“You see now why we need your help, Father?” Jack asked.
The priest wiped the vomit from his lips, surveying the carnage in the town square. Some buildings had been tossed across the street. Others obliterated entirely. The bodies of townsfolk were smeared across the rubble, like a bloody lacquer of skin, flesh, and bone. It was all too clear why the famous Jack the Giant Killer had sought his assistance.
“Perhaps we should have foreseen this,” Jack continued. “Giants have souls too. It was just a matter of time before my work would give rise to a giant poltergeist.”