R. L. Stine_Mostly Ghostly 03 (3 page)

I shone my light around the room. My trembling hand made the light beam dance over the back wall.

The circle of light stopped on oozing green goo dripping down the wall. The floor beneath it was puddled with goo.

I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry.

I didn’t want to come here because I’d thought it was a waste of time. But now I wasn’t so sure.

The high-pitched laughter … the creaking footsteps over our heads … the strange blasts of cold, wet wind … the green globs of sticky goo. Were there really ghosts here?

Aaron raised the camcorder and taped the oozing green stuff. “Ectoplasm caught on tape for
the first time in recorded history,” he said in a deep voice into the microphone. “Evidence that the ghosts we seek are close by. They may even be watching us now.”

He turned the camcorder on me. “Max, are you scared?”

“Maybe a little,” I said. “But I still don’t think there are ghosts in this old house.”

I didn’t want to admit on the video how frightened I was.

I have real ghosts at home, I thought. But they’re not scary.

I wanted to get out of there. Okay, I’m not the bravest person in the world. But I couldn’t leave Aaron alone.

Teeth chattering, I took a deep breath and followed Aaron back into the hall. I tensed my body for the wind blasts. But the air was still now.

We turned and followed another hallway, which turned into another hallway and another.

“I’m kinda lost,” Aaron said.

“Me too,” I replied. “Maybe that's the kitchen.” I pointed ahead.

We stepped into a square, low-ceilinged room. Gray light washed in from a dust-covered window. Big cartons were stacked along one wall.

“Just a big closet,” Aaron murmured. He pulled up the lid of a carton and peered inside. “Yuck. Moldy old books. They’re totally rotting.”

I stepped up to a tall grandfather clock against one wall. As I raised the flashlight to its face, the slender black hands started to move. They both spun wildly, faster and faster.

“Oh!” I let out a startled cry and staggered back.

Aaron looked up from the carton of books. “What's wrong?”

“That clock—” I pointed. “Uh … ” Now the hands were perfectly still. “Nothing,” I muttered. “Forget it. Guess I’m just a little creeped out.”

I turned away from the clock. My flashlight stopped on a long box near the window. Whoa. Wait. Not a box.

“Aaron—” I whispered. “Look. Is that a coffin?”

He spun around, eyes wide.

Yes. A long, black coffin, polished and shiny. We stepped over to it.

“Do you think there's someone in it?” Aaron asked. “Who would keep a coffin in a storage closet?”

“A vampire,” I said.

“We don’t want a vampire,” Aaron said. “We’re doing ghosts.”

I stared at the lid. The wood was smooth and shiny, reflecting the gray light from the window.

“Open it,” Aaron said. “Go ahead.”

“Whoa. No way,” I told him. “
You
open it.”

“I’m holding the camcorder,” he replied. “I
have to tape what happens. Go ahead. Open the lid.”

I jammed my hands into my parka pockets. “I don’t think so.”

Aaron sighed. “Come on, Max. You don’t want to do the history of Paraguay, do you? Open the lid. We’re going to get an A here. I just know it.”

I stared at the brass handles on the lid. My legs were trembling. My heart pounded in my chest. Paraguay was starting to sound pretty good.

“Go ahead. I’m taping,” Aaron said.

I pulled my hands from the parka. I moved closer to the coffin. I reached for the handles.

Slowly, slowly, I began to pull up the coffin lid. I lifted it an inch … two inches …

And the lid shot open!

Without warning, a grinning skeleton leaped up, bones clattering. Before I could move, it stretched out its arms—and made a grab for me.

I heard Aaron's scream of horror behind me.

And then my scream rose over his. My trembling legs collapsed.

And I fell facedown into the coffin!

I LET OUT ANOTHER
horrified cry. Somehow I pushed myself up to my knees. Then I scrambled out of the coffin. My heart pounded so hard, my chest hurt. I staggered back, gasping for breath.

Grinning at me, the skeleton rattled and shook. I saw the deep empty sockets where its eyes had been.

And then I saw the metal rod holding the skeleton up. And the coiled springs that had made it stand.

“It … it's a total fake,” I said.

The skeleton stood still now, arms at its sides, head slumped at an angle.

“Yeah. It's a jack-in-the-box thing,” Aaron said. “Like in a carnival fun house. I knew it.”

I spun around. “Oh, right. You knew it? If you knew it, why did you scream?”

He patted his camcorder. “For the tape. You know. To make it more dramatic. I only screamed for the tape.”

I still hadn’t caught my breath. “You got it all
on tape? Me screaming and falling into the coffin and everything?”

He laughed. “Yeah. I got it.”

“Maybe we’ll have to edit that part out,” I said.

“Yeah, maybe,” Aaron said. “I mean, you’re the class brain, right? Everyone calls you Brainimon because you’re so smart. No one wants to see the smartest kid in the class shaking like a leaf and falling face-first into a coffin—do they?”

He laughed again. He was enjoying this too much!

I was thinking hard. If the skeleton was fake, the rest of the eerie sounds must be fake too.

“I’m outta here,” I said. “This is a big waste of time.”

I started toward the door. Aaron chased me and grabbed me by the shoulder. “What's the chief export of Paraguay?” he asked. “What's the national flower? How do their elections work?”

“Okay, okay. I’m staying,” I said.

We stepped into the hall and found ourselves at a steep stairway that led upstairs. “I know there are ghosts in this house,” Aaron said. “They’re probably hiding in the bedrooms up here.”

The stairs creaked and groaned under our boots. Part of the railing had broken away. At the top, we faced a long, narrow hall with closed doors on both sides.

The glass had broken away in the window at
the end of the hall. Flimsy white curtains blew in the breeze, waving to us like ghostly figures.

I felt a chill. I had a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach. Something was warning me that there was
real
danger nearby.

Aaron and I stepped into the first bedroom. The room was big and cluttered with furniture—a canopy bed, a long dresser, armchairs, and a couch. Everything was covered with dust. The room smelled like stale cigarette smoke.

Heavy drapes covered the windows. I moved my light along the wall—and stopped at a narrow door. I pulled open the door and peered into another hall. A secret hallway!

“Hey, Aaron, check this out.” I kept the light down on the floor ahead of us as we crept into this new hallway. There were no lights or windows. It was like a low, narrow tunnel.

I held back. It reminded me of the creepy tunnel I’d found behind my bedroom wall. The tunnel that led from the living … to the world of ghosts.

I’d gone into that terrifying tunnel once. I never wanted to go in there again.

I shivered. This is a different tunnel, I told myself. It's not even a tunnel. It's just a hallway in an empty old house.

“Let's go,” I said.

Our footsteps echoed loudly as we hurried
through it, keeping close together. The hall ended at a small alcove with three doors side by side.

“This is excellent!” Aaron said. He was videoing the whole thing. “Hidden rooms at the end of a hidden hallway. Awesome.”

The first door seemed to be locked from the inside. Aaron couldn’t get the door to budge, so he tried the middle door, and it opened easily.

We stepped into a huge room cluttered with cartons, stacks of old children's books, a beat-up wooden baby crib, an old-fashioned bike, and piles of old clothes. “Check it out!” Aaron exclaimed. He bent to search through a stack of old comic books.

A long time ago, this must have been a children's room. I saw a pile of board games against the wall. The boxes were faded and torn. I started to pick up the game on top—Parcheesi.

But a sound behind me made me drop it and spin around. “Aaron, did you hear that? Like a howling sound?”

I listened hard and heard it again. A long, low howl, like a dog in pain. And then I heard a sharp tapping on the door.

Had we closed the door? I thought we’d left it open.

Another tap on the door. And then knocking sounds
coming from the wall
!

My fear tightened every muscle in my body. I
forced myself to breathe. “Aaron—what's up with that?” I turned back to him. “Hey—Aaron? Do you hear it?”

I didn’t see him.

The howl rose, louder now, as if it was right behind me in the room. And now the tapping came from all four walls.
Taptap taptaptap
—surrounding me!

“Hey, I don’t like this,” I said. I ran over to the stack of old comics. “Aaron? Where are you?”

I swept my light around the cartons and piles of old clothes. “Aaron? Come on—answer me! Is this a joke or something? It isn’t funny.”

I couldn’t find him. Why didn’t he answer?

“Hey, Aaron? Aaron?”

PANIC WASHED OVER ME.
I swept the light rapidly around the room. “Aaron! Aaron!” No answer. No sign of him.

Howl after howl rang in my ears. The pounding on the walls grew louder and louder, as if a hundred people were banging on the other side, banging to be let in.

I turned to run—and stumbled over a wooden dollhouse. I tumbled to my knees. Trembling, I started to stand up. “Ohh.” I let out a cry as I felt something brush my cheek. Something cold and soft.

“No, please—” Something cold touched the back of my neck. Icy fingers. Invisible. “Please—”

The room grew colder. The howls rose and fell. I felt something warm plop onto my shoulder.

“Ohh.” I glanced down. It was a glob of green goo.

I raised my eyes. Thick green goo dripped from the ceiling and slid down the walls. As it dripped, it hissed with steam, hot against the cold air.

“Aaron—where are you?” I screamed over the steady drumming on the walls.

And then floating above me, I saw a face. A woman's face, long white hair trailing from her head. Her eyes shut tight. The face flickered above me. Whoa. Wait. Her eyes weren’t shut. They were missing! I gasped in horror—and she faded away.

I spun to the door. I knew I had to get out of there.

I tried to run. But icy hands tightened around my shoulders and held me in place.

The hissing green goo pooled around me on the floor. And an arm floated just over my head. A pale skinny arm without a body.

It vanished and was replaced by two bare legs and a foot. Floating … floating in the cold air. The foot had no toes! The toes had been sliced off. I could see the dark scabs at the end of it.

The foot vanished and a man appeared, sad-looking, staring down at me with pleading eyes. Hands reached for me. I saw several people floating under the dripping ceiling, all sad, all pale, their mouths moving as if they were trying to talk to me.

A hand shot out and grabbed for the silver pendant around my neck. The pendant is shaped like a bullet. My mother found it when we moved into our house, and she gave it to me for good luck.

With a cry, I jerked back. The hand wrapped tightly around my pendant and started to pull.

“No!” I slapped it away.

I spun around, holding the pendant with both hands.

“Aaron—where are you?”

The howls turned to moans. The drumming on the walls became deafening. My boots stuck in the thick hot goo. I gazed up at the sad, damaged faces and bodies moving so slowly, as if in a nightmare.

But this is real, I thought. Horribly real.

I was shivering from the cold. My teeth were chattering. Icy fingers brushed my cheeks.

I lurched away from them. Tugged and tugged—and finally unstuck my boots from the thick green ooze—and staggered to the door. I grabbed the knob and pulled it hard. To my surprise, the door opened easily. Back in the hidden hallway I ran, leaving the howls and drumming behind.

I turned a corner, breathing hard. Someone stood hunched in a doorway. A dark figure.

I stopped. And raised my light.

Aaron?

“Aaron, where did you go?”

“Nowhere. I was in that kids’ room. With you.”

“No, you weren’t. I looked for you,” I said. “How did you get out here?”

He shook his head groggily. “I … don’t really
remember. I was looking for you, Max. I couldn’t seem to find you anywhere.”

I pointed toward the room. “Real g-ghosts,” I stammered. “You missed them. Real ones.”

“No way,” Aaron said. “This whole place is a fake. You were right, Max.”

I didn’t want to argue. I just wanted to get
out
.

We ran to the end of the hidden hallway, out the narrow door, down another long, dimly lit hall. We found the stairway and took the steps down two at a time.

I didn’t look back. I didn’t want to see anything following me.

Curtains fluttered in a strong breeze over a broken window. The floor creaked beneath us as we ran.

The front door!

I reached it first, gasping for breath, my side aching.
I grabbed the knob and yanked the door open.

“No!” I let out a cry of disappointment. Not the front door. A closet.

I turned away and started to run again—but something caught my eye. Something shiny on the closet floor.

I bent down to investigate. And saw a pile of silver objects. Bullet-shaped objects. Just like the one I wore around my neck.

What were they doing in this closet?

I grabbed a bunch and shoved them into my parka pocket. Then I started to run again.

“Hey, Max—slow down,” Aaron called. “What's your hurry?”

“I want to get
out
of here!” I shouted.

The halls twisted and curved. We ran past the dining room, a den we hadn’t seen, the huge ballroom—and found ourselves back at the dining room.