The "Cephalowhahoozies" in question give this last statement about as much heed as Josua himself does when his mother orders him to clean his room; which is to say, none at all. The shadow-tentacles just extend themselves further toward the young self-proclaimed king causing him to yelp and leap back.
The tentacles are now encroaching on Kate and Lynne's personal space as well and the two twins have backed themselves up to the wall and can get no further from the door. Lynne kicks desperately out at the tentacles and it snares her foot. She manages to break away, but her shoe is not so lucky. It gets gobbled up by the dark shadows.
What do we do?
I don't know --
One of the cephalopod's long arms has wrapped itself around Josua's middle and is tugging him toward the door. He beats futilely at the dark umbras shouting, "Ceph -- cepha -- I command you to let go of me!"
But unseen by the girls, another word has scrawled itself across a new page of the book. . . .