You didn't get far. The giant had you caught before you made it three paces. You briefly felt the radiating warmth of the hand before it wrapped around you, one of those enormous fingers pushing into your face as your legs dangled helplessly. Then the lifting began, a tremendous g-force hitting you and your stomach dropping out as you were lifted higher, higher...and then you were transferred to his other hand, far above the ground, on his open palm. Now you needed to stay on this hand to live - a fall of this distance would be lethal, even with your durability.
He stared at you, utterly transfixed, his dark eyes wide as he examined his find. You didn't move, just looked furtively around, trying to scope out exits. There weren't any. You hyperventilated, trembling with abject terror.
"The fuck are you?" he asked, in a rough, British accent.
You gulped. Not a good start.
"I'm-I'm-I'm-" you couldn't get the words out. But just that one was enough for the athlete to raise his eyebrows even more.
"You TALK?" he said loudly, and you covered your ears. You just nodded. "Holy shit, mate."
"I'm C-Cal," you managed to say. "Please let me go."
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