GTS Syndrome Vol 2 Ch 5: The Coldness Of Reality!

The screaming didn't stop—not until Penelope made it.

I turned and saw it. One of them was still alive, if you could call that twisted, writhing thing "living." It dragged itself toward me, leaving a thick smear of dark red on the rocks. Its legs were shattered, mashed into paste from Penelope's earlier stomp. But even with its bones ground to powder, it clawed its way forward, eyes glowing like twin moons of madness in the dusk. It screeched like a dying crow caught in a snare, its voice echoing into the coming night.

Then boom—Penelope's boot slammed down from above like divine judgment.

"Disgusting trash," she said coldly.

She twisted her boot for good measure, turning what was left into a dark red puddle that shimmered like oil in the firelight. I just stood there, chest rising and falling too fast, sword still in my hand. Everything felt... quiet. Too quiet. My ears rang. My fingers tingled.

Then her voice broke through.

"Braden?" she said, kneeling down so that her massive face filled the sky above me. Her expression had softened. "Are you okay?"

I blinked a few times. "Yeah," I said, my voice rasping out. "No bites."

She let out a sigh of relief, her shoulders relaxing. "Thank goodness," she said with a small smile, her dimples just barely visible. It was the kind of smile you'd get from a kid who just found their lost puppy—not the kind you expected from someone who just flattened five once-human monsters into soup.

With a hand the size of a wagon, she helped me up. My legs were still a little shaky, but standing helped. I glanced toward the pile of corpses—their limbs bent wrong, their mouths locked in forever-screams, glowing veins slowly dimming.

"Damn..." I muttered. "It's just... sad. They used to be men, y'know?" I said, not looking at her. "They were people once. Real ones. And now..."

Penelope followed my gaze for a moment, silent. Then she straightened, reaching a hand down between her breasts like she was digging in a coin purse.

"Oh, I got dinner," she said brightly.

I blinked. "Wait, what?"

Thump.

She dropped something onto the ground beside me.

It writhed.

I stumbled back a few steps. The thing had rough tan-and-black scales like cracked stone, claws that clicked on the rock, and a thick horn curving from its nose like a buried blade. It was as big as Penelope's palm, maybe a little bigger—and I'm saying that from the point of view of someone who could stand comfortably on her nail.

"What the hell is that?" I barked.

"It's a Thundrapine," she said, shrugging. "Lots of protein."

I stared at it, watching it breathe fast and hard, its sharp eyes darting between me and her towering form. "You're seriously gonna eat that? Right now? After... all that?"

"Sure." She crouched down beside it and started pulling together what looked like a spit from nearby branches—branches thicker than my torso.

I looked at the crushed bodies. Then I looked at her.

"How can you do that?" I asked, quieter now. "How can you just... switch it off like that? Those guys—we just fought them. Killed them. They were messed up, sure, but they were men. You don't feel anything?"

Penelope glanced at the bodies for a second, then back at me. Her eyes were harder now. Less dimple, more dagger.

"I don't find it hard," she said. "Those things aren't men anymore. And even if they were, they're too weak to survive. The weak have no place in this world, Braden. You shouldn't waste your sympathy on them."

Her voice was matter-of-fact. Not cruel. Not angry. Just... factual. Like she was talking about weeds in a garden.

I didn't say anything right away. Just stood there, listening to the sizzle of the fire and the strange, wet noise the Thundrapine made when it twitched. I glanced up at her again.

There it was. That look—like her eyes were made of stone. Like nothing could move them.

Is that how she sees them? Is that how she sees... me?

The question hit me so fast I nearly said it out loud. But I didn't. Because I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

Instead, I just watched her sit down—her massive form shaking the ground like a localized quake. She smiled again, lighting the makeshift fire pit with a flick of her finger like it was a match.

"I'll get this guy cooked up in no time," she said. "We'll eat, then sleep. Long walk ahead tomorrow."

I gave a half-hearted nod and sat down on a rock a few feet away—well out of boot range. The fire crackled, the scent of singed lizard-thing already creeping into the air.

She hummed a little tune while she worked. I stared into the flames, not sure if I was more afraid of the monsters we'd just fought... or the woman who saved me from them.

Penelope didn't say a word while she cooked.

I watched the fire dance in her eyes, watched the sharp glint of her fingers as she rotated the skewered Thundrapine over the makeshift spit. The monster sizzled, its skin crackling and splitting to reveal white muscle beneath. It smelled... edible. Not good, not bad—just food. Which, I guess, was good enough for the night we'd just had.

I tried to think of something to say. A joke maybe. Something light. But every time I opened my mouth, I could still hear the screams.

They'd been human once. Or close enough. But those sounds? The screeching, the snarling, the scratching of bone against stone—it was like something out of a nightmare. And Penelope had silenced them like it was nothing. A snap of the wrist. A twist of the boot. One of them had tried crawling again, its body broken in half. She hadn't even flinched—just reached down, wrapped her fingers around its skull, and crack.

Just like that.

We didn't talk about it. She didn't bring it up. And I... couldn't.

Dinner was quiet. She tore the cooked lizard creature in half and handed me a piece roughly the size of my arm. I chewed in silence while she devoured the rest with careful, measured bites—trying not to gross me out, I think. It was oddly sweet, in a terrifying way.

Afterwards, I leaned back on a smooth piece of stone and watched the fire die. The sky was a strange shade of violet now, stars just barely peeking through the haze. The wind picked up—dry, sharp, and bitter cold.

That's when Penelope leaned in close.

Her face filled my view, half-shadowed by the flickering flame. Her cheeks were tinged with red, though I couldn't tell if it was the heat or something else.

"Hey... Braden?" she said softly.

I looked up. "Yeah?"

"In these parts," she murmured, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "it gets... really cold for men at night."

I blinked. "Uh... yeah. I guess so."

She looked away for a second, then back down at me, biting her bottom lip. "So I thought... maybe we should sleep together. Just for warmth."

My throat went dry. "W-what?"

"You know, just so you don't freeze," she added quickly, her voice higher now, her blush deepening. "I'll keep you safe."

I opened my mouth, closed it, then tried again. "O-ok... That makes sense."

Her lips curled in a tiny, relieved smile. "Good."

She reached down and picked me up with both hands—gentle as always, like I might break. I didn't resist. I didn't want to resist. The warmth of her palm was immediate, her scent like faint woodsmoke and lavender. She brought me close to her chest, and then slowly, carefully, slipped me between her breasts.

They were soft, impossibly warm, and massive beyond reason—two mountains of flesh pressed just enough to keep me cradled safely. My entire body sank slightly as she adjusted her posture.

"I'll lie on my back," she said, more to herself than to me. "That way you won't fall."

She settled down, lowering herself into the rocky clearing. The moment she touched the ground, the earth rumbled beneath us—a low, steady BOOM that echoed in my ribs. For a moment, I felt like I was plummeting, the sheer scale of her movement warping my senses.

Then—stillness.

I was nestled against her heartbeat now, a deep, slow thrum like a distant drum echoing through the hills. Her skin was smooth and warm, her breath a steady gust of wind over my head.

"Good night, Braden," she whispered, voice muffled by the closeness.

I smiled to myself, my body finally relaxing into the comfort and safety that only she could offer. "Night, Penelope."