Your own size.

The Hitcher pelted down the passageways of his warren, making it safely to a dark corner in which he now stood, hands on knees, wheezing for air. Armed with nothing but himself he'd cut his losses and scarpered to save his own scabby hide.

When he'd caught his fetid breath, he stood straight and clicked his neck rheumatically from side to side.
“I've lost 'em” he cackled to himself, pleased to have bought some thinking time.
“Wait and see, boys," he muttered to the air "I'll get me own back and 'ave my way wiv that girly, yet.”

A noise a little way in front of him pricked his ears. He inched over to it.
“'Ello?” He asked, cautious. “Is that you, Ernie?" He hissed. "Did they miss you?”
Something sounded like a foot, shuffling, it really was very dark in that section of the caverns. His back to the lighter passage, he squinted into the inky corner, hands in front of him, groping blindly till they found themselves grasping some long, soft hair.

“Oh ho ho, what's this? Run, did ya? Been hidin' in the darkness? Fought you could get away from ole Baboo Yagu?” His voice rasped and reeked of lechery.
The tone hardened. “You thought wrong.”
He drew in a long, ragged, breath and let it hiss its way out between his rotten teeth. “Now, how's about you let me get on wiv me little game then, eh? I 'ope yer still in yer school uniform, you slut" he taunted. "Is now good for you..?”
No reply, just another foot shuffle. He tugged at the hair.
“... I said would you like me to rape you now, little girl?
The hair moved.
“... Where's the fun in that?” came the reply, at last... an octave or so deeper than the Hitcher had been expecting.
“I... wh- eh!?”
The voice was low and next to his ear now. “How's about I have you instead?" It uttered.
He would have replied but a vice-like hand was constricting his throat like a hungry Boa. The voice continued, in dark velvet mockery of his own words.
"Is now good for you?”
Before the Hitcher could try and force a single syllable's response through his rapidly flattening windpipe, stereo pain white-sliced its way through his being. Both his nose and his decaying man-bags simultaneously exploded in a dual attack – a headbutt full in the face and a swift, strong, knee to the now very, very unhappy-sacks.

Alex didn't feel the effects of the collision himself, the wrath consuming him was all-powerful and didn't allow pain.

The Hitcher folded under the unexpected agony and nausea of the shattered nose and testes - no accordion or minions to protect him here in the deeper, darker recesses of his labyrinth.
Instead of following through on his threat, Alex dragged the wretched creature, squalling, by the hair till they reached one of the wider areas he'd found on his way through while looking for the girl.
It was lighter here.
There was Jay, White Wolf, Jacky, Davie, and Jaxx. They looked like they were getting things under control. And there she was - the impetuous Molly stood further back, towards the entrance hole.

He hauled the repugnant individual by its armpits now, and thrust it into the middle of the assembled Dwarfers, sneering his revulsion.
“I don't know what the f*ck this sack of shit is, or what the hell it wants, but it frightens and rapes little girls.”
He glared at it, stone cold. “... I don't like things that rape little girls.”

Giving Jay a nod of deference, he left the sick creature in the others' care and walked on past, towards the place he'd initially dropped down in pursuit of Molly, on Seymour's instruction. She was staring curiously beyond him and as he walked past he wordlessly turned her and took her with him.
As they moved away, an obscene screech chased after them, followed by further, gurgled, exhalations of horror, before an even more disturbing silence. Darkness had descended.

Sharkbait.

He didn't look back.

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