“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,Kocchicoyyo, 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 wasclearly 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.
