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Beaten and bruised, Otto lay on the crumbled ground, his damaged tentacles coiled like wounded, twitching snakes around him. He looked up as the shadow of the glider fell on him.
“Say sayonara, sweetheart!” The Goblin cackled, his expression twisted with malice. He grabbed a pumpkin bomb, and his thumb moved toward the trigger. If the Goblin threw it, it was all over.
Otto helplessly watched the distorted face of the man he loved, and silently pleaded for him to come back..
The Goblin’s thumb twitched.
No… Norman’s thumb.
“Otto?” His voice was soft again. His horror mirrored Otto’s relief.