35 - A Shocker on Shock Street (3 page)

“First stop is The Haunted House of Horror!” Linda called after us. “Good
luck!”

I turned back to see her waving to us, her long red hair fluttering in the
wind. A strong breeze blew against us as the tram made its way down the hill.
The sky was nearly as dark as night. Some of the white studio buildings were hidden by the fog.

“Stupid gun,” Marty muttered, rolling it around in his hands. “Why do we need
this plastic gun? I hope the whole tour isn’t this babyish.”

“I hope you don’t complain all afternoon,” I told him, frowning. “Do you
realize how awesome this is? We’re going to see all the great creatures from the
Shocker
movies.”

“Think we’ll see Shockro?” he asked. Shockro is his favorite. I guess because
he’s so totally gross.

“Probably,” I replied, my eyes on the low buildings we were passing. They all
stood dark and empty.

“I want to see Wolf Boy and Wolf Girl,” Marty said, counting the monsters off
on his fingers. “And… the Piranha People, and Captain Sick, The Great
Gopher Mutant, and—”

“Wow! Look!” I cried, pounding his shoulder and pointing.

As the tram turned a sharp corner, The Haunted House of Horror loomed darkly
in front of us. The roof and its tall stone turrets were hidden by the fog. The
rest of the mansion stood gray against the dusky sky.

The tram took us nearer. Tall weeds choked the front lawn. The weeds bent and
swayed in the wind. The gray shingles on the house were chipped and peeling.
Pale green light, dim, eerie light, floated out from the tall window in front.

As we rode closer, I could see a rusty iron porch swing—swinging by itself!—on a broken, rotting porch.

“Cool!” I exclaimed.

“It looks a lot smaller than in the movie,” Marty grumbled.

“It’s exactly the same house!” I cried.

“Then why does it look so much smaller?” he demanded.

What a complainer.

I turned away from him and studied The Haunted House. An iron fence
surrounded the place. As we moved around to the side, the rusty gate swung open,
squeaking and creaking.

“Look!” I pointed to the dark windows on the second floor. The shutters all
flew open at once, then banged shut again.

Lights came on in the windows. Through the window shades, I could see the
silhouettes of skeletons hanging, swinging slowly back and forth.

“That’s kind of cool,” Marty said. “But not too scary.” He raised his plastic
gun and pretended to shoot at the skeletons.

We circled The Haunted House of Horrors once. We could hear screams of terror
from inside. The shutters banged again and again. The porch swing continued to
creak back and forth, back and forth, as if taken by a ghost.

“Are we going inside or not?” Marty demanded impatiently.

“Sit back and stop complaining,” I said sharply. “The ride just started.
Don’t spoil it for me, okay?”

He stuck his tongue out at me. But he settled back against the seat. We heard
a long howl, and then a shrill scream of horror.

The tram made its way silently to the back of the house. A gate swung open
and we rolled through it. We moved quickly through the overgrown, weed-choked
backyard.

The tram picked up speed. We bounced over the lawn. Up to the back door. A
wooden sign above the door read: ABANDON ALL HOPE.

We’re going to crash right into the door! I thought. I ducked and raised my
hands to shield myself.

But the door creaked open, and we burst inside.

The tram slowed. I lowered my hands and sat up. We were in a dark,
dust-covered kitchen. An invisible ghost cackled, an evil laugh. Battered pots
and pans covered the wall. As we passed, they clattered to the floor.

The oven door opened and closed by itself. The teapot on the stove started to
whistle. Dishes on the shelves rattled. The cackling grew louder.

“This is pretty creepy,” I whispered.

“Ooh. Thrills and chills!” Marty replied sarcastically. He crossed his arms in front of him. “Bor-ring!”

“Marty—give me a break.” I shoved him away. “You can be a bad sport if you
want. But don’t ruin it for me.”

That seemed to get to him. He muttered, “Sorry,” and scooted back next to me.

The tram moved out of the dark kitchen, into an even darker hallway.
Paintings of goblins and ugly creatures hung on the hallway walls.

As we approached a closet door, it sprang open—and a shrieking skeleton
popped out in front of us, its jaws open, its arms jutting out to grab us.

I screamed. Marty laughed.

The skeleton snapped back into the closet. The tram turned a corner. I saw
flickering light up ahead.

We rode into a large, round room. “It’s the living room,” I whispered to
Marty. I raised my eyes to the flickering light and saw a chandelier above our
heads, with a dozen burning candles.

The tram stopped beneath it. The chandelier began to shake. Then, with a
hiss, the candles all flickered out at once.

The room plunged into darkness.

Then a deep laugh echoed all around us.

I gasped.

“Welcome to my humble home!”
a deep voice suddenly boomed.

“Who is that?” I whispered to Marty. “Where is it coming from?” No reply.
“Hey—Marty?” I turned to him. “Marty—?” He was gone.

“Marty?”

My breath caught in my throat. I froze, staring into the darkness.

Where did he go? I asked myself. He knows we aren’t supposed to leave the
tramcar. Did he climb out?

No.

If he had, I would have heard him.

“Marty?”

Someone grabbed my arm.

I heard a soft laugh. Marty’s laugh.

“Hey—where are you? I can’t see you!” I cried.

“I can’t see you, either,” he replied. “But I didn’t move. I’m still sitting
right next to you.”

“Huh?” I reached out and felt the sleeve of his shirt.

“This is cool!” Marty declared. “I’m waving my arms, but I can’t see a thing.
You really can’t see me?”

“No,” I replied. “I thought—”

“It’s some kind of trick with the lights,” he said. “Black light or
something. Some kind of neat movie special effect.”

“Well, it creeped me out,” I confessed. “I really thought you disappeared.”

“Sucker,” he sneered.

And then we both jumped.

A fire suddenly blazed in the big brick fireplace. Bright orange light filled
the room. A big black armchair spun around to reveal a grinning skeleton.

The skeleton raised its bony yellowed head. The jaws moved.
“I hope you
like my house,”
its voice boomed.
“Because you will never leave!”

It tossed back its head and let out an evil cackle.

The tram jolted to a start. We rumbled out of the living room. Into a long,
dark hallway. The skeleton’s laugh followed us into the hall.

I fell back against the seat as we picked up speed.

We whirred around a corner. Down another long hall, so dark I couldn’t see
the walls.

Faster. Faster.

We whipped around another corner. Made another sharp turn.

We were climbing now. And then we took a sharp dip that made both of us throw
up our hands and scream.

Around another sharp turn. Up, up, up. And then we came crashing down.

A wild roller-coaster ride in total darkness.

It was awesome. Even better because we didn’t expect it. Marty and I screamed
our heads off. We bumped hard against each other as the tram whirled around in
the black halls of The Haunted House of Horrors. Up, up, again—then we tilted
sharply down.

I hung on to the front of the car for dear life. I gripped it so hard, both
hands ached. There was no seat belt, no safety bar.

What if we tumbled out? I wondered.

The car tilted sharply sideways, as if reading my frightened thoughts. I let
out a shriek and lost my grip. I slid against the side of the car. Marty fell on
top of me.

I frantically reached out for something to hold on to.

The car tilted back rightside up. I took a deep breath, slid back into place
on the long seat.

“Whoa! That was
excellent
!” Marty cried, laughing. “Excellent!”

Gripping the front of the car, I took another deep breath and held it. I was
trying to slow my racing heart.

A door swung open in front of us, and we burst through it.

The car bounced hard. I saw trees. The gray-fogged sky.

We were back outside. Racing through the backyard. Both of us were tossed
from side to side as we roared over the weeds, zigzagging through the dark trees.

“Whoa! Stop!” I choked out. I couldn’t catch my breath. The wind blew hard
against my face. The tram clattered and squealed as we bumped over the rough
ground.

We were out of control. Something had definitely gone wrong with the tram.

Bouncing hard on the plastic seat, holding on tightly, I searched for someone
who could help us.

No one in sight.

We bumped onto the road. The tram started to slow. I turned to Marty. His
hair was blown over his face. His mouth hung open. His eyes rolled around in his
head. He was totally dazed.

The tram slowed, slowed, slowed, until we were creeping smoothly along.

“That was
great
!” Marty declared. He smoothed back his hair with both
hands and grinned at me. I knew he had been scared, too. But he was pretending
that he enjoyed the crazy, wild ride.

“Yeah. Great.” I tried to pretend, too. But my voice came out weak and shaky.

“I’m going to tell your dad that the roller-coaster ride through the halls
was the
best
!” Marty declared.

“It was kind of fun,” I agreed. “And kind of scary.”

Marty turned away from me. “Hey. Where are we?”

The tram had come to a stop. I pulled myself up and peered around. We had
parked between two rows of tall evergreen bushes. The bushes were slender,
shaped like spears reaching up to the sky.

Above us, the afternoon sun was trying to break through the fog. Rays of pale
light beamed down from the gray sky. The tall, thin shadows of the bushes fell
over our tramcar.

Marty stood up and turned to the back of the tram. “There’s nothing around
here,” he said. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. Why did we stop?”

“Do you think—?” I started. But I stopped talking when I saw the bush move.

It wiggled. Then the bush next to it wiggled, too.

“Marty—” I whispered, tugging his sleeve. I saw two glowing red circles
behind the bush. Two glowing red
eyes
!

“Marty—there’s someone there.”

Another pair of eyes. And then another pair of eyes. Staring out at us from
behind the evergreen bushes.

And then two dark claws.

And then rustling sounds. The bush tilted as a dark figure leaped out.
Followed by another.

Snarling, growling.

I gasped. Too late to run.

We were surrounded by the ugly creatures. Snuffling, wheezing creatures, who
staggered out from the bushes. Reaching out, reaching out for us, they began to
climb into the tram.

Marty and I jumped to our feet.

“Ohhhhhh.” I heard Marty let out a frightened moan.

I started to back away. I thought maybe I could scramble out the other side
of the car.

But the snarling, growling monsters came at us from both sides.

“L-leave us alone!” I stammered.

A monster covered in tangled brown fur opened his jaws to reveal long, jagged
rows of yellow teeth. His hot breath exploded in my face. He stepped closer.
Then he swiped at me with a fat paw and uttered a menacing roar. “Would you like
an autograph?” he growled.

I gaped at him, my mouth hanging down to my knees. “Huh?”

“Autographed photo?” he asked. He raised his furry paw again. He held a
black-and-white snapshot in it.

“Hey—you’re Ape Face!” Marty cried, pointing.

The hairy creature nodded his head. He raised the photo to Marty. “Want a
photo? This is the autographing part of the tour.”

“Yeah! Okay,” Marty replied.

The big ape pulled a marker from behind his ear and bent to sign the photo
for Marty.

Now that my heartbeat was returning to normal, I began to recognize some of
the other creatures. The guy covered in purple slime was The Toxic Wild Man. And
I recognized Sweet Sue, the walking-talking baby doll with real hair you can
brush. Sweet Sue was really a mutant murderer from Mars.

The frog-faced guy covered from head to toe with purple and brown warts was
The Fabulous Frog, also known as The Toadinator. He starred in
Pond Scum
and
Pond Scum II,
two of the scariest movies ever made.

“Frog—can I have your autograph?” I asked.

“Grrrbbit. Grrbit.” He croaked and slipped a pen into his wart-covered hand.
I leaned forward eagerly and watched him sign his photo. It was hard for him to
write. The pen kept slipping in his slimy frog hands.

Marty and I collected a bunch of autographs. Then the creatures went snarling
and wheezing back into the bushes.

When they were gone, we both burst out laughing. “That was so dumb!” I cried.
“When I saw them creeping out from behind the bushes, I thought I’d have a cow!”
I glanced down at the photos. “But it’s kind of cool to get their autographs.”

Marty made a disgusted face. “It’s just a bunch of actors in costumes,” he
sneered. “It’s for babies.”

“But—but—they looked so real,” I stammered. “It didn’t look as if they
were wearing costumes—did it? I mean, The Toadinator’s hands were really
slimy. And Ape Face’s fur was so real. The masks were awesome. I couldn’t tell
they were masks.”

I brushed the hair out of my eyes. “How do they get into those costumes? I
didn’t see any buttons or zippers, or anything!”

“That’s because they’re movie costumes,” Marty explained. “They’re better
than regular costumes.”

Mr. Know-It-All.