Napalm vomited a gusher of magma at Vincent and the red flesh sizzled and smoked, but Vincent did not stop. His flesh burned as he grappled with Napalm, wrapping his massive thick arms around the writhing fire creature. Steam billowed and Vincent’s shrill and very human voice was a long, drawn-out howl of rage, but he did not let go of the living volcano. Slowly, inexorably, screaming incoherent gibberish words, mad Vincent dragged Napalm toward the water by the Okeanos’s bow.

For a heart-stopping moment, the two great monsters wrestled for control, Napalm spraying fire and roaring, Vincent screeching and pulling.

Dekka felt like a mere human watching the gods battle. They smashed and battered each other: Napalm belched fire, Vincent’s poisonous flails stung him again and again, and with each passing second Vincent dragged Napalm another foot closer to the channel.

Now Vincent’s remaining meat puppets rushed at Napalm, slammed into his legs even as they burned, slapped him with their own tendrils, which curled like leaves in a fire.

Then, with the majestic slowness of a falling redwood, both Vincent and Napalm fell backward, banged against the prow of the Okeanos, and tumbled into the water.


Monster, Chapter 26