Chapter 1 #3
“I guess, uh…” Seymour had no idea.
He’d gotten roses for his mother, but he only remembered red and more red.
“A wreath would be lovely,” the woman whispered. “Especially if there’s no headstone yet.”
Neil gave a small nod of his head. “How about a wreath? Especially since there’s no headstone.”
Seymour glanced between them. “Uh, sure.”
Neil patted the wall and opened a door hidden there, revealing what looked to be a walk-in cooler. “Just give me one second and I’ll be right back.”
“Okay, great.” Seymour sighed. “Thank you.”
“No problem! Just a sec.”
The woman returned to her spot behind the counter.
“So.” Seymour hated the silence. “You been workin’ here long?”
She gave him a curious glance, but then she looked away as if she hadn’t heard him.
“Okay.” Seymour frowned.
Wow.
Definitely needed some lessons in customer service.
Seymour busied himself looking over more of the floral displays until the cooler door opened again.
Neil had a large wreath packed with daffodils, greenery, and little white flowers. He carried it to the counter, saying, “Okay, here we go!”
“Wow, okay. It looks great.” Seymour reached for his wallet.
“Yeah? I can get a bigger one.”
“No, this is perfect. Thank you both so much.” Seymour pulled out his credit card. “I really appreciate it.”
“Both?” Neil echoed.
“Wait.” The woman stared right at Seymour. “Can you see me?”
Seymour scoffed. “Of course I can see you. You’re standing right there.”
“Who the hell are you?” Neil demanded. “How can you see her?”
“It should be impossible!” She clutched her hands to her chest.
“What?” Seymour took a step back, laughing nervously. “Are you serious?” He looked between them. “She’s right there.”
“How many fingers am I holding up?” The woman waved her hand.
“Uh? Three? No, four.” Seymour huffed. “Stop movin’ your hand around.”
She gasped. “Dear God. He really can see me.”
“Of course I can!” Seymour frowned. “What the hell are y’all on? She’s not a damn ghost. I can see her clear as day.”
“Well, today just got much more interesting,” a new voice drawled.
Seymour glanced over to see a giant dog monster lazily trotting toward him.
It was an absolutely massive beast with black fur and flaming red eyes, and its back was arched up like every Halloween cat in the history of ever.
It had some sort of mange because big patches of fur were missing along its torso and chest, and beneath that were chunks of burning orange-red embers like its guts were fresh from the bowels of hell.
“What the fucking fuck? What the fuck is that?” Seymour lifted the wreath high over his head.
He had no idea what good a bunch of flowers would be against a dog monster, but maybe there was a chance it would be offended by the bright color.
He didn’t understand how it had appeared so suddenly, as if right out of thin air, and the chances of it howling and fleeing from daffodils seemed unlikely.
“This is a Flanders.” The dog monster peered at Seymour’s shoes. “Oh! Doc Martens. Not bad.”
“Huh?” Seymour continued to retreat, glancing over at the door.
Shit.
Flanders was between him and escape unless there was an exit inside the greenhouse.
Seymour kept backing up and looking around frantically. “This, this is fuckin’ crazy is what this is. I’m, I’m gonna go on and get now, so—”
“Wait! Please.” The woman hurried toward him. “We really need to speak with you. There’s no need to flip your lid, sweetie. This is just, well, it’s quite incredible!”
“Having someone around here with decent taste in shoes?” Flanders nodded. “Yes!”
“Oh, don’t you start,” Neil scolded, his eyes flicking now to Seymour. “Have you ever owned a bracelet with little dead people inside of it? Maybe someone in your family or something?”
“What?” Seymour scoffed. “What are you talking about?”
“Deep breath. Think hard.” Neil inhaled slowly. “Have you ever heard anyone talk about a magical item called the Reliquary?”
“No! What the fuck is that?”
“Complicated.” Neil grimaced a bit. “Look, I thought it was crazy too—”
A black mass of inky darkness materialized at Seymour’s feet.
“What the fuck is that?” Seymour shrieked.
It was small, about the size of a cat, and had a distinctly feline shape.
Though that shape shifted as easily as the stuff inside of a lava lamp, it had way too many bright green eyes dancing all over its body, and it appeared to be floating instead of actually walking along the ground.
Seymour froze as the creature rubbed around his legs and…
Purred.
“Oh, that’s Buffy!” The woman smiled. “She likes you!”
Seymour was too terrified to move. “What in the ever lovin’ fuck is goin’ on?”
“She’s sorta kinda an eldritch kitty monster?” Neil tried to offer what may have been an attempt at a friendly smile. “She’s really nice though. I promise.”
“Unless she’s hungry,” Flanders whispered loudly. “Spoiler, she dines only on human flesh.”
“Flanders! Shut up!”
“You’re not the boss of me.”
Neil groaned. “Oh my God.”
“Hey, hey!” The woman—ghost?—waved her hands frantically and stepped in between them. “You two quit it now!”
“He’s already tainted Lou with his plastic clog madness!” Flanders howled. “When will it stop? A whole city of people wearing those eye assaulting horrors?”
“For the last time! It’s not plastic!” Neil insisted stubbornly. “It’s a resin called Croslite and—”
“You made that up.”
Seymour knew this was his chance.
While they were busy arguing about shoes or whatever, he could make a run for it. He wouldn’t even worry about seeing the lawyer. He was going to get in his truck, drive away until Somerstown was nothing but a blip in his rearview, and then—
A big hand dropped on his shoulder, and a deep voice rumbled, “We got a problem here?”
Wait, no.
It wasn’t a hand.
It was a paw.
Seymour turned to identify the owner of the paw on his shoulder and found himself looking up, up…
At a werewolf.