“Everybody up in the jungle village knows it. He really exists. He lives out there in the remote forest. Nobody in the village dares to utter his name,” whispered Maureen. On her face lay an expression of awe.
“What kind of thing are you talking about,” I asked.
“It’s the invisible Giant. He lives in the deep forest, shrouded by dense fog. He is as large as a tree, 100 feet tall or more. Nobody could see him, only my Grandpa did. The Giant has only one huge eye, located in the middle of his forehead. I saw his eye only one time, when I was eleven years old. It is blood-red, of a size larger than a dish, and burns like fire.”
“How come you know so much about the Giant?”
“The Giant was my grandfather’s friend. Grandpa would whistle, and the giant would appear in less than a moment. Through his connection with the Giant, Grandpa obtained a lot of power. He could go from one place to another in a glimpse of an eye, no need for shoes or a car. The Giant gave him other powers, too. ”
“Did your grandfather have to pay a tribute?”
“The Giant is a ghost, a demon,” whispered Maureen. “He needs blood. Once a month, at the time of the full moon, Grandpa killed a chicken. He then offered the blood to the demon. You have to give the ghost what he wants. If he demands your blood, you have to give it, too.”
“And what if he didn’t make a monthly blood sacrifice?”
“He would have died.”
“Doesn’t sound one should mess with that kind of demon.”
“Better not,” whispered Maureen, and shook her head.
©2004 by Franz L Kessler
