Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen You think I'm scared right now? Well, I'm not. You seem to have me confused with someone who's scared of giant monsters. FIGHTING GIANT MONSTERS IS BASICALLY MY NUMBER ONE HOBBY. That's a lie. I am very much scared.

I need to make something clear: I am not trained to be an adventurer. I always dreamed of being one, sure. The same way you might dream about playing quarterback for the New York Giants—even though you are IN NO WAY QUALIFIED TO PLAY QUARTERBACK FOR THE NEW YORK GIANTS. And in that same vein, I am IN NO WAY QUALIFIED TO HANDLE DANGLING FROM THE TALONS OF A FLYING MONSTER! Craning my neck, I watch Fun Land shrink away as the King Wretch whisks me through the sky. I get a quick glimpse of my friends atop the Thunder Coaster. They'd better get that radio fixed, or this was all for nothing. The monster plunges, and I just about swallow my tongue. I look down between my dangling feet. We're, like, sixty feet above the ground. If I fall? Pancake-splattered-Jack-death action. And I mean, I love pancakes—chocolate chip with whipped cream, extra butter, mountains of warm maple syrup—but I have zero interest in any pancake-splattered-Jack-death action.

We're approaching Comically Speaking. The comic book store is ravaged. Entire walls have collapsed, and it's surrounded by piles of rubble. And there's something else. Two parallel lines of monsters stand in front of the store. I can't quite make out what brand of monsters these dudes are, but the stench of evil is extra strong. I narrow my eyes, trying to figure out what exactly I'm looking at. Just as things are coming into focus, I hear my hoodie tear, the fabric splitting, and then—

RIP! I plummet downward for a short moment, and then all I feel is PAINFUL AWFUL TREE-LIMBBREAKING- SMASHING ON MY BONES! And that is my least favorite bone sensation! I crash into a maple tree, then pinball from branch to branch, wood snapping and cracking. I ricochet into the crook of the tree, and then I'm swinging and splatting to the grass below.

I heave and heave, and at last I scoop up the Louisville Slicer. I shakily get to my feet. It takes a moment for my eyes to focus—but when they do, I realize why we haven't seen any Winged Wretches recently. They've been here. All of them. I'm looking at a full horde of Winged Wretches. They stand at attention, like castle guards. But they're staring at me—and I get no sense that they want to attack me or keep me away. What kind of guard doesn't try to keep enemies out? No, these Winged Wretches are here for a different reason. They're not guards at all—they're like some sort of nightmarish welcoming committee. But welcoming me to what? The King Wretch? I don't see him. After he dropped me, he disappeared. But... Hmm... Yes. Yes. I smell him. His odor is permeating the air, seeping through the crumbling walls. And I realize: He's inside Comically Speaking.

I could run. But I won't. And I think the King Wretch knows that. At this point, I must get answers. I will do whatever it takes to make sure the horrors of the latest vision don't come true. So I wrap my fingers tight around my blade and I walk forward... The Winged Wretches do not move. I hear only my sneakers on the snapping autumn leaves. I feel