The giant lay sprawled in the middle of the street, pinned down, it seemed, more by the devil's eyes than by his gun.
"You killed them! They're dead because of you!"
She pulled her children closer and waited.
The crowd muttered of red coats, of Lost July. So that's who he was. Shouldn't somebody….?
There. Behind what was left of the market, four, five men with guns. Would that be enough?
The man in red whispered something, 'goodbye' something. Was he talking to the giant? Then he pulled the trigger, and it didn't matter.
One monster down, one to go.