Every 50 years, the giants come to destroy the village.
The village's inhabitants toil, from sunrise until sundown, growing the tedious crops they need to survive. Problems that plague most civilizations, such as famine, disease, and murder, were the least of their concerns, because twice every one hundred years, their home is annihilated by a race of other-worldy giants.
During the course of many years, they tried to prevent these attacks with a myriad of different approaches. But each plan, no matter how genius it was in design or cleverness, ultimately failed. The once proud people became powerless and trivial. The only thing as certain as the giants was death.
Several times the village was rebuilt in a strategic location. Each location was unique in how its terrain was able to conceal or prevent access. One location was buried many miles deep inside the green forest, its location was only known to a few outsiders. Nevertheless, it was found and destroyed. Another was built on the side of a cliff in a deep canyon. To the villagers surpise, the giants climbed very well and some punched in through the rock behind them. The present village is located not far from the original location. It resides in the fertile valleys hugging the long snake river.
The villagers go about their daily chores fearing when the next attack shall come. Only the oldest villagers remember any of the previous attacks. And the young ones find the stories hard to believe. But the pictures painted on the walls of the temple, illustrate quite vividly the past. Giants, as tall as the trees, and about as wide as the river, made even the toughest warriors quiver with fear. Their triangular shaped heads had eyes that glowed like the sun. Their mouths, set in a permanent scowl, shot fire into huge plumes.
Conventional weaponry, such as arrows and axes, proved useless against the giant's thick metal hides. New specialty weapons were built, some massive in scale, and all of them failed. The heartbreak experienced by some inventors after seeing their life's work dismantled like a child's toy, was unbearable. Many chose to go down with their creations.
Days before an attack, the approaching giants could be heard. A frightening, unnatural sound that reverberates from the mountains , through the trees, and eventually making it to the the village. It is first heard as a low oscillating noise similar to a strong gust of wind but not quite, and then, as the giants near, it is heard as a deep rumble that engulfs and muffles all attempts to converse. The villagers flee into the hills that surround their valley as soon after the first sound is heard. The hills provide a bird's eye view of the assault.
One by one, the giants emerge from a neighboring line of trees. And quickly begin to stomp the village into pieces. And when all is destroyed, they stomp the pieces into pieces.
While they flattened the village, their glowing yellow eyes stared, fixed to the villagers who watched from the hills. They stared a gaze that never broke contact. As they violently stomped through the debris of the once proud village, they seemed almost oblivious to where they stepped. The villagers knew from the stories passed down through the generations that the giants would be satisfied with taking the village and should leave them unharmed, as long as they did not interfere with their business.
When the giants were done with their bidding, they stood still and the world became silent. For what would seem like an eternity but was actually only a few minutes, they stared across the valley up into the hills at the cowering villagers, as if to gloat. As if to say, 'Look and admire our power over you.'
Some villagers fainted. And then a booming noise came forth. It was hard to discern at first but became more evident as the sound of laughter. The giants were laughing at them. One giant noticed a herd of cows feeding, and kicked all of them with one kick into the river.
Then away they went, with gargantuan strides, quickly disappearing into the horizon.
