Templar and Saria

There was that noise again, the sound a thousand times a thousand tons makes when it stirs on a bed the size of Rhode Island. Templar was lying on thick fibers of brown carpet, each individual stem about as round as a telephone pole was wide, groups of them together made for a lousy place to sleep, but it was the only real option.

Sleeping on the floor, of a room that wasn't his own, within a house that wasn't his own. The waking man was up against the same wall the bed was placed against. His new home was dark, but light from the morning sun was pouring into the room more and more by the minute, soon it would be bright enough that the girl slumbering peacefully above him would wake, and he'd try once again to avoid her discovery.

It was the morning of Templar's third day of his new life, he was a tiny man in the world of a sleeping goddess, and the land of a million dangers. His memory was hazy at best, a few still images are all he could remember of the time leading up to his predicament. He lived only few houses down, this was the neighborhood he'd grown up in, but now it was a much different place. He remembered walking over to welcome the new neighbors, but very little after that was discernible.

Templar sat upright against the wall, with a sigh and exhalation of morning breath he lifted his hand and ran it through his short jet black hair. He was tired and ill kept, of course not having showered and a bit dirty from his recent exploits. Just yesterday the young man had wandered far enough into the room to scrounge up some pieces of an enormous chocolate chip cookie, one that had apparently been lost by his new warden while she enjoyed it in bed. He had removed his shirt entirely, and scooped up as much of the feast as he could, carrying it back to his secretive hideout like some ridiculously miniscule Santa Claus.

Reflecting once again on his situation, the insect-like human sat for a few minutes mentally trying to assess the new day, and decide on a new course of action. Food was now a lesser priority, yesterday's haul had seen to that, but water was the new immediate concern, second of course to dying. The last collection of days had actually gone well all things considered. Templar had at first reacted with fervent denial when he awoke at his current stature, which over time he concluded was little more than an about an inch. He had started out near the front door of the house, and it was the evening. In his first day he'd made it to the first room he could find, which was the girls room he now resided within. The only time he'd actually seen the woman was for a brief moment on the second night, she had been out of the house most of the day, and he caught her just as she passed out that evening.

It was Saturday now, and Templar was determined to make progress in his ordeal, either by being rescued entirely or just by achieving another day of survival.

He stood up to what could jokingly be called his full height and began to walk towards the side of the bed which was opposite the wall. He cursed forgetting to put his phone in his pocket upon leaving his home earlier in the week, in fact he regretted ever coming over to provide a pleasant gesture of welcome in the first place. Without his technology he had to rely on the sunlight to keep track of time and time was his new best friend in the universe.

After a few minutes of walking he nearly reached the edge of the bed, above him he began to see a bit of the ceiling, which seemed like miles away, accompanied by the room's lone ceiling fan. It was definitely about the time when the girl awoke the previous day. He needed her to wake up and leave the room, Templar couldnt risk moving while she was asleep, only to be caught out somewhere in the open if she were to wake. The thought loomed in Templar's head just as the enormous bed and its slumbering goddess did above him that very moment. What if she were to discover me? he thought silently to himself. A simple young woman in typical circumstances was just... a person. She was no more harmful than any other in normal life. Now however, thought Templar unpleasantly, she could kill him by accident if he wasnt careful, and never know he even existed.

The few minutes of silent contemplation yielded no change in the situation. Templar looked up at the edge of the bed anxiously, its metal crossbars and frame covered by white sheets and various linens still betrayed no sign of activity from its inhabitant. Templar sat back down, he was still tired from the day before, and everything that had happened. He was in fairly good shape, just out of his teens at twenty-three, if he made it in life long enough he swore to take even better care of himself in preparation for times like these.

He sighed once again, his eye lids were still heavy and his muscles were sore from all his tiny exercising. He laid back down, surely when his new roommate woke up she'd be loud enough to wake him as well, then he could begin another day of adventure; another day of new terrors and facing a new outlook on life. His eyes shut once more, as his final thoughts were of the huge, delicious cookie shard he'd stolen the day before, it had been something he would have never experienced in his normal life.

***

There was a different noise. Templar lay still and mostly asleep as he kept hearing an annoying clicking sound. In no particularly pattern or rhythm it kept clicking and clacking away. He disregarded it and kept his eyes shut, he was really happy with his state of rest, generally in a world this immense the many common noises that regular people hear are trivial, but at his size everything Templar heard was amplified a dozen times. It was louder now, and extremely close. Then a new feeling came into being, a slight tug on his shirt, low and down by his waist, it was just about in sync with the clicking. Bringing both hands up to his face and rubbing his sore eyelids, Templar regained his vision as he sat up with his elbows.

An incredibly frightening scene filled his vision, a great black beetle, half his height and the length of a motorcycle was chewing contently on the bottom of his shirt. The creature's small mandibles were trying to snip the fabric into smaller pieces so it could ingest the remnants of cookie and chocolate still stained upon it.

Completely alarmed Templar shot up to his feet and stumbled back a a yard or two. The black beetle still munched on a fist sized piece of Templar's shirt, which it had torn off while he slept. After it finished chewing the beetle looked up and over to the new visitor, slightly confused it slowly trotted over to where Templar was now standing.

No! Hey! Templar said in a panic,No! You get back, go own now, get outta here!

Templar was taking a few steps back every moment, matching the insects advances each time it crawled purposefully closer. The black beetle didnt seem like a threat, but Templar hated bugs, and this thing would certainly devour his only set of clothes if he sat idle and allowed it to.

Come on man, I need this shirt, cant you just go back to where the cookie was? Templar reasoned, completely in vain as it were, the insect of course having no comprehension of his language or his gestures.

As Templar continued to back peddle he didnt realize that now both he and the black beetle were exposed from beneath the bed, now standing out in the sunlight without concealment. The beetle continued to pursue Templar, it was completely focused on the sweet sugar stained cotton that it had just acquired a powerful taste for and it would slowly, but relentlessly try to reunite with it.

The miniscule man started to slow, just as the beetle did in fact. It reminded Templar of a large dog, or even a cow, so concerned with simple needs it focused on nothing else but its primitive desires.

As this curious thought crossed into Templar's mind, it was immediately shattered by a loud metal moaning sound. The huge supports of the bed flexed and contorted under the shifting weight of the owner it cradled. The moaning and scraping was loud, grand echoes bombarded the tiny ears of the human below, not enough to strike pain, but as loud as a battleship being torn in two just offshore from a beach.

Without warning an immense finger with an artificially painted nail slammed into the ground, annihilating the entire area where the poor black beetle had been, just mere meters away from Templar. The crash of the impact sent the tiny man off his feet and to the ground, as the chitinous carapace of the insect was destroyed utterly in an instant with a horrendous cracking and crunching. The tip of the finger began a grinding motion, from side to side it worked its tip back and forth creating a mess of broken, plastic-like remnants and syrupy brown fluids.

The finger lifted slowly and as it did it revealed the mangled mess of the beetle, sticky blood inched upwards with the skin of the finger, small dark fragments dropped back to the ground as did strings of brown goo.

Ugh, nasty. A booming voice rang out, like the loudest thunder of the worst kind of storm.

Templar looked up as the finger retracted back up with the girls hand, she brought it up to her face as her eyes narrowed, inspecting the remains of her kill as it stuck grimly to her fingertip. She rubbed the tip of her index finger and thumb together in some kind of frustrated temporary cleaning effort, as she did so her eyes panned back down to the tiny being below.

Templar looked up at her, she was partially hanging over the edge of her bed, her right arm tucked under her chest as bits of her long, white hair hung down passed her face. His eyes were wide and full of terror as he sat down paralyzed and unable to move. He was frozen, completely immobile with fear, the yellow eyes of the goddess pinned his insignificant body to the floor, without any effort whatsoever.

The girl let out a sigh, then spoke once again,

Another one hmm? Guess I'll have to clean a bit later today.

With sheer horror Templar saw her left hand begin to move again. With great speed it was moving outstretched over to where he sat motionless, the same index finger quickly extending outward, ready to crush him into the carpet just as it had the poor black beetle.