You got it!

Giants might be real, but at least Bigfoot’s a Hoax!


All of these thoughts crowded Dean’s mind and he was absently shoving his phone back in his pocket when it happened.

Behind him, a massive spring responded to his presence. A steel door thicker than a wall slammed shut behind him, and Dean was surrounded by metal bars as thick as his arms.

Trapped, with a hungry giant missing in the forest. No way to reach Sam by cell, and no way to get out of the cage.

To be sure, Dean pulled on the thick bars that comprised the sides of the cage. They didn’t budge. The massive metal door of the cage could be used for warehouses, and no matter how he pushed, nothing happened. The damn thing must weigh a ton.

Dean slumped down with a frustrated sigh.

Seconds later, a sound came to him through the woods. The crashing sound of footsteps, like he’d been chasing only moments before. The leaves around him shook, and Dean knew that Jacob was coming.

And he was caught in a trap.

A trickle of sweat dripped down Dean’s neck. They only knew a little about the teenager. There was no way of knowing how Jacob would react to them after his dash from the cliff. Why had he run away? Was he afraid of what would happen if he was around two bite-sized people while he was so hungry?

The footsteps were hurried, rushed. Dean hesitantly got out his machete, prepared to fight for his life if it came down to it. Sam was on his own by the cliff, investigating Jacob’s belongings and campsite. If there was a fight, and Dean lost, Sam would have no warning that Jacob was dangerous. No way of even knowing that Jacob and Dean had run into each other out in the forest. For all Sam would know, Dean was still combing the trees in search of the giant.

Leaves rustled, and a huge hand came into view as a maple tree was pushed out of the way with a lingering creak. Hungry brown eyes fell onto Dean’s small form, and deep shadows covered Jacob’s face as another echoing growl came from his stomach.

Dean took a step back from Jacob, and felt his back press up against the thick metal wires of the cage. He was cornered. Holding the large knife defensively in front of his chest, he was prepared to go down fighting.

It was hard to forget that every single bit of lore they’d found on giants specifically called out the fact that they ate people. Jacob might be reasonable enough, but this hex or curse or whatever it was might change him when he was hungry, a lot like what a werewolf went through during the full moon. Without fresh hearts, werewolves would die, so their instincts compelled them to hunt humans, even people that they knew and respected in their normal life. Jacob had only met them that day, and most of their time had been spent tracking him down.

If he was operating by instinct, he might see them as a threat. Dean had emptied his clip into Jacob’s palm in an attempt to escape a grab.

Dean hadn’t missed the hunger that shone in Jacob’s eyes when he pushed aside that tree.

“Jacob,” Dean greeted, a strain in his voice. “We’re all friends here, right?”

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