then beaver was screaming at him from his awkward sprawl in the toilet , telling him to get out , to shut the door , and the thing turned back to the sound of his voice as if recalled to temporarily forgotten business , and it was beaver 's eyes it went for this time , his fucking eyes , beaver writhing and screaming and trying to hold on as the thing chattered and chattered and bit , its tail or whatever it was flexing and tightening around beaver 's waist , pulling beaver 's shirt out of his overalls and then slithering inside against his bare skin , beaver 's feet jerking on the tiles , the heels of his boots spraying bloody water in thin sheets , his shadow flailing on the wall , and that mossy stuff was everywhere now , it grew so fucking fast - jonesy saw beaver thrash backward in a final throe ; saw the thing let go its grip and leap clear just as the beav rolled off the toilet , his upper half falling into the tub on top of mccarthy , old mr behold-i-stand-at-the-door-and-knock .