Chapter 23 #2
“What the fuck was that?” Seymour groaned. “Seriously? Your eyeball? You’re throwin’ fucking eyeballs?”
Day hopped to the ground, and the fur on the back of her neck above the collar of her kimono stood up. She put herself in front of Seymour, saying, “No… That is not an eyeball.”
The eyeball twitched, doubled in size, and then cracked.
“The hell?” Seymour gasped.
Jerry flipped them off as he ran off into the distance, screeching, “Later, losers!”
“Losers? Hey! Fuck you! Come back here, you bald Bullwinkle lookin’ motherfucker!” ” Seymour shouted, already trying to chase after him. “I’m gonna fuckin’—”
Day grabbed Seymour’s hand, pointing at the doorway they’d come through. “We need to leave. Right now.”
“What? No! The brain is right there! I’m not—”
The eyeball doubled in size again.
And again.
From the crack, something slick, scaly, and bright blue bulged outward.
The eyeball then burst and a gigantic glittering snake uncoiled before them.
It was thirty feet tall, thick as a school bus, and its long jaws were lined with rows of sharp teeth.
There was a giant spike on the tip of its tail as long as Seymour was tall.
It reared up like a cobra ready to strike and hissed, bright red eyes glowing furiously.
Seymour wheezed. “What in the fuckin’ Pokemon bullshit—”
The snake monster opened its mouth and struck.
Right at Seymour.
He thrust the paddle forward, forcing it into the monster’s jaws.
The monster roared and shook its head, rearing back.
“Go!” Day screamed, grabbing Seymour’s arm and dragging him toward the door.
“Goin’, goin’, fuckin’ goin’! Seymour bolted. “The fuck is that thing?”
“A wyrm!” Day screamed. “It eats humans and—”
“Fuckin’ figured!”
“Run!”
The wyrm let out another roar, and there was a loud snap.
No doubt the paddle breaking.
Super.
Seymour didn’t dare look back, running as hard as he could. He didn’t even wait for Day, knowing if he made it through the doorway that she would be pulled through alongside him by the anchor of the Inro. He had to keep going. He had to go. He had to get back—
Thwump.
The side of the wyrm’s tail crashed into Seymour, and he flew.
There was enough time to be scared.
Seconds ticked by, each one an eternity, and Seymour wildly thought he was going to die. He was going to break something, maybe his neck, and he’d never see Day or Sariel again.
Sweet, beautiful Sariel, who had absolutely told him what a stupid idea this was.
Hindsight and all that.
Seymour hit the ground with incredible force and rolled, slamming into a twisted rack. The world spun, pain burst throughout his chest and back, and he wheezed weakly. Breathing hurt. Trying to focus his eyes hurt.
Fuck.
He didn’t see Day, but he could hear her roaring and snarling as she attacked the wyrm.
The wyrm’s focus was only Seymour, and it whipped toward him and raised its head for another strike.
Seymour couldn’t push himself up. He couldn’t get away. He stared up at the wyrm, managing to defiantly spit out a mouthful of blood. “Fuck… you.”
The wyrm roared and lunged.
Seymour closed his eyes to wait for the inevitable.
But it never came.
The wyrm roared—a sound of pain.
And anger.
And…
Seymour opened his eyes, his chest lurching.
It was Sariel!
Sariel was in his first angel form and had blocked the attack with a flap of his wing. He took off into the air as the wyrm growled and snapped at him. “Day!” he shouted. “Get Seymour out of here! Now!”
“No! No, Day, you will not get Seymour out of here!” Seymour watched helplessly as Sariel flew around the snake monster, dipping in and barely avoiding another strike. “What the fuck are you doin’ here?”
“Saving you!”
“That was fuckin’ rhetorical and you know it!”
Sariel didn’t reply, too busy trying to keep the wyrm’s attention by striking at its eyes.
Such a close attack put him in reach of the wyrm’s teeth, and it snapped down on his leg.
He screamed and continued pounding the wyrm’s face until thick black blood oozed from its jaw, but it didn’t release him.
Seymour’s heart ached, and he curled his hands into fists. “Day! Hey! Where are you? We’ve gotta help him!”
Day was out of breath as she ran up to him, blood smeared across her mouth and neck. “I’m trying!”
“Can’t we shove it back into that damn eyeball?”
“Judging by the size, it’s a very old creature. It would take exceptionally powerful magic to create a pocket dimension to trap it in again!”
Seymour groaned. “And we don’t have any of that, right?”
“No, we do not. Summon the chochin-obake! And stay back!” Day dropped to all fours and ran back to the wyrm with a fierce snarl.
“Fuck, fuck, fuckin’ shit!” Seymour dug deep into his thoughts to remember the words. “Coochie—no. Uh, Kocchi coy yo, uh, chocobo chewbacca. Fuck! Choco-chin, oh bakky!”
Nothing.
He cringed.
A small tap on his hip made him jump—which really he should have been expecting—and he flinched. “Oh! Fuck! Hey!”
It was Choco, the red lantern man, and he waved.
“Hey! My man! Buddy!” Seymour pointed at the wyrm. “Can you and your boys go help them out? Go kick that Pokemon’s butt?”
Choco wobbled his giant head and then ran off, his tongue wagging.
Within seconds, dozens of the lantern men were there and following behind him to attack the wyrm. They climbed over it like ants, punching and kicking, and the wyrm writhed angrily, finally releasing Sariel.
Sariel flew high and dove down at the back of the wyrm’s head. Day went for its body slithering across the ground. It was certainly too big for her to swallow whole, but she opened her mouth as wide as she could and bit down on the closest coil while the lantern men swarmed around her.
Day’s bites were pulling out chunks and leaving gaping wounds that bled thick black ooze, and Sariel’s strikes had managed to swell up one of the wyrm’s eyes. Still, the wyrm didn't seem fazed, and it resumed its brutal attacks on Sariel and forced him to retreat higher in the air.
Seymour looked for a weapon—something, anything!
The brain.
It was right there, only a short jog away…
And oh, that wasn’t the only thing.
There was Jerry.
That little shit.
Jerry was sneaking along the deformed landscape, making a beeline for the crystal. He appeared to be alone, but he was clearly being wary of the wyrm he’d released. Still, he was closing in fast.
Fuck.
If Seymour didn’t stop him now, he could run off with the brain again. The madness with Mr. Heiss’s deal and Talos and the faeries would keep going. Maybe even forever. He couldn’t let that happen.
Not when he was so close.
He found himself walking toward the crystal and then broke into a run. He could grab the cords and use those to climb up to the brain. Maybe wrap one of them around Jerry’s throat while he was at it for unleashing that eyeball wyrm.
The crystal had several jagged peaks, and Seymour snatched up a thick section of cord to hurl at the closest one. It caught, and he gave it a yank to see if it would hold. It didn’t budge, and he grabbed it tight.
“No!” Jerry shrieked. “You— You get away from there!”
“Eat my ass, fucker!” Seymour scrambled upward, trying to clambor up the side of the crystal. His hands slipped, palms burning, but he kept going. It was slow, and he regretted every day he hadn’t worked out, but he was making progress.
He made it to the peak, and he grunted as he struggled to gain traction against the slick surface of the crystal.
He could hear Jerry slipping and sliding on the other side, and though he couldn’t see him, Jerry sounded close.
Seymour managed to pull himself up, and he tried to reach out for the brain.
It was right there.
Mere inches from his fingertips.
Shit, shit, shit!
He couldn’t grab it.
He tried to pull himself up higher, muscles on fire from the strain, and he gritted his teeth as he snarled from the exertion. He could feel gravity trying to drag him down, the ache in his body stabbing into him, but he kept going. He had to do this. He had to. He couldn’t give up.
But then he heard Sariel scream.
Seymour whipped his head back and nearly lost his grip on the slippery crystal, but he needed to see what was happening.
Oh…
Oh no.
One of Sariel’s wings was not flapping, and he was barely staying in the air.
His legs dangled frighteningly close to the snapping jaws of the wyrm, and Day’s best efforts to distract it had done little more than earn her some tail swipes.
The lantern men didn’t seem to be breaking through the wyrm’s tough hide, and at least a dozen of them got thrown off as it whipped its tail with a furious snarl.
A few of them had been speared on the giant spike, flailing wildly.
Seymour stared back at the crystal.
Fuck—okay, he was almost there.
He could get it.
He had to get it.
He had a mission, a goal, and he had to finish it. Nothing else mattered because nothing else mattered. Everyone and everything always left, it all ended, he was always alone, and—
To avoid this fate, you need to change your path as soon as you can.
Oh.
This was it.
The moment that would change everything.
Seymour was passionate and brave, but he was also stubborn, selfish, and arrogant.
He’d spent years alone, angry and aching for something more he couldn’t put a name to.
Nothing had ever lasted because he had never felt satisfied, always left empty and yearning once the spark of a new affection faded away.
But then he’d found an angel and discovered what he’d been searching for all this time did have a name.
It was Sariel.