Their Biggest Fan (Chapter 5) (Patreon)

“GO! GO! GO!” Delilah shouted.

Her pulse railed. She slapped her thighs raw from the pounding countdown pace of the game, and unleashed a bellow of such magnitude it would’ve registered on the Richter scale. “COME ON, YOU CAN TAKE THEM! SHOW THEM WHAT WE’RE MADE OF. CRUSH THEM! CRUSH… THEM!”

At this point, even the home team faithful were starting to wilt a little. Apprehension plagued the stadium. There was a ghostly unspoken sense of being held captive, even though everyone was free to do as they pleased, and Delilah would’ve been horrified to think that what she saw only as bone-deep affection for the team and the sport itself was causing most everyone present to picture vivid daydreams of the competition being “crushed,” as Delilah insisted on putting it. Especially those visitors who’d entered the stadium at the same time as the giantess, and watched those svelte, spotless, barge-sized bare feet trampling meticulously among them, stepping in the people-free pockets of ground, her battle-hardened naked soles impacting and packing down the very stone.

“Delilah…” Chris hissed to the speaker once his friend had stopped shouting for a moment. “Please, listen to me. I don’t think you can tell, but you’re really getting people riled up in here. Look, it’s just a game. It’s okay. Just… please, calm down.”

Delilah seemed not to notice the world around her now, however. Her unblinking eyes were glued exclusively to the match and the tiny players in constant flux. The longer she watched, seeing mistakes she could’ve prevented if she was participating, the girl began to feel urges. Though she’d never act upon them, of course, she couldn’t help but imagine the satisfaction she’d have in reaching a hand down into the stadium again, this time stabbing the pitch with her pinky finger to make her mark. Her smallest digit would be more than enough to put the game back in the favor of the home team: a few flicks and swings here, maybe some pokes or fake-out whips there. Certainly she wouldn’t seriously hurt anyone, as little more than a brush from her fingertips would put the visiting team out of commission. Delilah grinned, vicariously living out the feeling of being able to help this home team, and the fans who cared so much, just like her. That would really be something.

It was down to the final few minutes now. The home team was trailing, by fewer points than before, but nonetheless bringing up the caboose. Their opposition, however, wasn’t feeling especially triumphant or confident in their lead, as they still couldn’t shake the nightmarish what-if thoughts of how catastrophically Delilah would react to a loss at this critical point in the season. Some away-teammates had even taken to playing half-heartedly, missing shots, as they could feel Delilah’s spotlight gaze zeroing their every move, and noticed her fingers curling ever-tighter around the rim of the stadium. Surely she was strong enough to rip the whole complex right out of the ground if she put her mind to it?

“Come on. Come on, now…” Delilah cheered. She gave her vocal cords a brief rest, but was so focused it sounded like she was speaking in tongues. “Take them. Take… them. Cross the line, that’s it. Left. On your left. Pivot. That’s it. Don’t stop now, don’t stop. Don’t let them stand in your way. They’re nothing. Runthem over. Step on them.”

This round of unintended speeches from the giantess was somehow even more unsettling to the crowds than before, as instead of having her forte demands blasted down from the sky like cannon-fire, it sounded like the golden super-fan was putting a spell on her beloved home stadium. What’s more, it actually seemed to be working. The home team was officially terrified of the consequences if they failed their biggest supporter, and were pouring out every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears they had to spare, and then some; players even chanced fouls, which the referees saw, but ignored, having come to dread a similar fate if the giantess’s cheering was for naught. The away team, ironically working in tandem now with their rivals, still put up a good show, but had collectively come to revere their own security over one silly game, and so forgot most of their training. Finally the crowd, though it still had a few rebellious outliers who didn’t surrender to Delilah’s crows, had mostly fallen silent. No clapping, no cheering; not that Delilah noticed, as her own loud exuberance covered them all up anyway. Both the home team and away team fans sat breathless, watching the sky instead of the pitch, no longer caring about the outcome of their own side, but merely praying that the fire-hearted goddess looming above them was pleased with the outcome.

With seconds remaining, and the score miraculously tied, the home team’s offense had one last chance to come out on top. Everyone, Delilah included, watched silently with twisted stomachs and panic in their throats; all except the giantess, of course, felt this way for reasons entirely separate from competitive spirit. The biggest fan leaned as far over the stadium as she’d yet dared, until her honeyed locks hung like silken streamers over the upper decks. At the last possible instant, the player who would later be considered a hero by every normal-sized human in attendance, including the away team, took the shot and scored, pulling the home team ahead by one point.

“YES! THAT’S HOW WE DO IT!” Delilah erupted. This piercing of the gravely quiet atmosphere caused nearly every spectator to jolt in their seats as if an electric shock had been tripped under their chairs. Relief soon washed over them, and each person in the stands rose gladly to their feet to clap and cheer that things had ended on good terms for them all. Delilah, unsurprisingly, produced the grandest reaction of all, cheering with a breath-draining aplomb that started in a low bass register and ended as a soprano yodel. When she’d finished, the giantess thrust both fists above the sports complex and spread her fingers, waving and saluting to show her enthusiasm and support. However, just as she opened her hands, several earthmover trucks’ worth of dust and grass from the outside field came splattering out of Delilah’s palms and finger crevices, descending like dirty snow upon the entirety of the stadium. Startled, the giantess looked to her sides, and noticed two distinct impressions in the ground shaped like her clenched fists, which she’d apparently driven right into the hard earth without noticing. As a small blessing, however, Delilah had been holding onto the ground so tight, that she’d pulverized all the land she’d accidentally scooped up into a fine powder, resulting in a dusty cloud descending on the stadium that didn’t hurt anyone, but definitely led to a lot of asthmatic hacking.

“Whoops!” Delilah shrieked, upon realizing what had happened. She tried to grab as much of the floating muck as she could, but when it slipped through her fingers, she could only cup her hands over her lips, mildly mortified. Her cheeks blushed a deep shade of cherry-humiliation. With the game over, her stickily compassionate disposition became apparent again. “I’m so, so, so sorry, everyone! But… good game! To everyone! That was wonderful! I’ll, um, clean this up, I promise.”

“Oh, boy…” Chris breathed. He kneaded his temple, wondering how he was going to explain all this to Delilah on the way home.

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THE END