Seymour’s heart dropped. “Yeah, that can’t be good.”
The back door of the bakery was open, and Day led Seymour through a bright shiny kitchen to a doorway standing in the middle of the floor next to several large racks.
The doorway was simply that—a door and frame.
Seymour didn’t even bother questioning it. He patted his shoulder. “Let’s get goin’, kitty girl.”
Day nodded to a large long-handled paddle next to the racks. “Maybe grab that?”
“That works.”
Paddle in hand, Seymour opened the door and stepped through.
They were still inside the bakery, but…
Everything waswrong.
The space was infinitely bigger, as if entire sections of the room had been snatched up, turned into taffy, and then stretched out into obscene proportions by some Salvador Dali inspired entity. The racks were now several yards behind them, yet the ovens glinted right above their heads, and the empty space between the broken sections went as far as Seymour could see.
Far off in the distance was the giant crystal structure Day had described, and there were indeed dozens of thick cords running across the floor toward it. It was impossible to deduce what the other ends of the cords were anchored toor what purpose they served, as they also went on seemingly forever to the edge of the horizon.
The giant crystal was Seymour’s focus—especially the glittering crystal brain hovering over the top.
“Holy shit,” Seymour breathed out in an urgent whisper. “It’s right fuckin’ there!”
Day clapped. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”
Seymour jogged toward it, glancing around warily. They seemed to be alone, but he had the distinct feeling that it wouldn’t be for very long.
The crystal was a giant raw hunk of what appeared to be quartz and had to be at least ten feet tall. The cords were wound around its thick base, though it wasn’t clear how they were attached. Seymour grabbed one and pulled, asking, “Reckon I can use this to climb up there?”
“Ireckonyou might break your neck,” Day drawled, imitating Seymour’s accent. “How about I jump up there and?—”
A door opened where one hadn’t been before, and Seymour whirled around to find Jerry the squonk standing there now.
Jerry squeaked in terror, scrambling back to the door. It vanished before he could reach it, and he tumbled to the floor. “Oh, no, no, no! Not you again!”
“Yes, me again!Jerry!” Seymour raised the paddle over his head. “How’s it goin’? Miss me? Wanna tell me how to get that fuckin’ brain down, huh?”
“I can’t tell you that!” Jerry shouted, crawling backward frantically and looking very much like a flailing crab. “We’re so close! They’ll kill me if I don’t?—”
“What the fuck do you think I’m gonna do? Huh?” Seymour waved the paddle. “I know you can’t see her, but I got me a kitty girl here who will snatch you up like the last damn potato chip?—”
“I don’t want to eat him,” Day whispered loudly.
“What?”
“He looks icky.”
Seymour scoffed. “And all the other monsters you ate haven’t been?”
“Well… he’s extra icky.”
“Kitty girl, this is a bad time to get picky ’bout your diet. I’m sure he won’t taste that bad.” Seymour paused. “Okay, maybe he will. But?—”
“How about I bite him? I could bite his head off and spit it right out?—”
“Hey! You!” Jerry snapped. “I can hear you!”
