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Authors: R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead)

59 - The Haunted School (7 page)

BOOK: 59 - The Haunted School
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We took six or seven steps—and then I let out a scream as someone knocked
me to the ground.

 

 
19

 

 

“Ohhhhhh!” A terrified moan escaped my throat.

I rolled onto my back.

A black cat tumbled beside me.

A cat?

It had jumped onto my shoulders from a tree limb.

The cat stared up at me with gray eyes. Its black fur bristled. Its tail
stood straight up.

And then it took off, vanishing into the fog.

I pulled myself shakily to my feet.

“Tommy, what happened?” Ben demanded.

“Didn’t you see that cat?” I cried. “It jumped down on me. Knocked me to the
ground. I thought… I thought…” The words caught in my throat.

“Are you okay? I couldn’t see it,” Ben replied. “The fog—it’s so thick. All
of a sudden, you screamed. You scared me to death!”

I rubbed the back of my neck. Why did the cat jump on me like that? I
wondered.

Maybe it’s lonely, I decided. With no other people around.

And just as I thought that, I heard a girl’s voice. “Over here!” she called.

And then a boy, very nearby, shouted: “Don’t let them get away! Grab them!”

 

 
20

 

 

Ben and I squinted into the fog. We heard shrill voices. And then the thump
of footsteps over the grass. But we couldn’t see anyone.

We didn’t know which way to run.

“This way! Over here!” the girl repeated breathlessly to her friend.

“Stop them!” another girl chimed in.

Ben and I spun around. “Who’s there?” I tried to shout. But my voice spilled
out weak and frightened. “Who is it?”

And then, figures appeared in the swirling fog. Shadowy, gray figures.
Running toward us and then stopping just near enough to see through the curtain
of gray.

Staring, surprised faces.

Their arms out. Bodies tense. Hair blowing in the circling mist.

I backed up to Ben. We stood back to back, gaping out at them as they formed
a tight circle around us.

“They’re—kids!” Ben exclaimed. “More kids!”

Are they the rest of the missing class? I wondered.

“Hey—!” I called to them. “What are you doing out here?”

They stared back at us in silence.

The fog billowed and shifted. I saw a short, black-haired girl whispering to
a big kid in an old-fashioned-looking black jacket. And then the fog covered
them again, and they seemed to vanish before my eyes.

Other kids appeared and disappeared. There must have been about twenty of
them.

They spoke softly to one another, gazing out at us, keeping in a tight
circle.

“What are you doing out here?” I repeated, trying not to sound as frightened
as I felt. “My friend and I—we’re lost. Can you help us?”

“You still have color,” a girl murmured.

“Color. Color. Color.” The word was repeated among the circle of gray kids.

“They must be the other kids from the class,” Ben whispered. “The kids Seth
and the others warned us about.”

Seth’s warning flashed back into my mind:
“They’re crazy. They’ve all gone
crazy.”

“We’re lost!” I cried. “Can you help us?”

They didn’t reply. They whispered excitedly among themselves.

“Turn, turn,”
a boy called suddenly. So loud, I jumped back.

“What did you say?” I demanded. “Can you help us?”

“Turn, turn,”
a girl repeated.

“We don’t belong here!” Ben cried. “We’re trying to get away from here. But
we’re totally lost.”

“Turn, turn,”
a few voices murmured.

“Please—answer us!” I begged. “Can you help us?”

And then they all chanted,
“Turn, turn.”
And they began to dance.

Keeping the circle tight, they moved to the right in a rapid rhythm. They
raised one leg high, and stepped to the right. Lowered the leg and gave a little
kick. Then another high step to the right.

Some kind of weird dance.

“Turn, turn,”
they chanted.
“Turn, turn.”

“Please—stop!” Ben and I both pleaded. “Why are you doing that? Are you
trying to scare us?”

“Turn, turn.”
The dark, dancing figures moved in and out of the swirling
fog.

The fog lifted for a moment, and I saw that they were holding hands as they
danced. Holding hands tightly. Keeping the circle closed.

Keeping Ben and me inside.

“Turn, turn,”
they chanted. A step, then a kick.
“Turn, turn.”

“What are they doing?” Ben whispered to me. “Is it a game or something?”

I swallowed hard. “I don’t think so,” I replied.

The fog shifted again. It lowered over the grass, then billowed away.

I squinted at the chanting faces as they moved in the circle.

Their expressions were hard.

Their eyes cold.

Cold, unfriendly faces.

“Turn, turn. Turn, turn.”

“Stop it!” I screamed. “Give us a break! What are you doing? Please—somebody explain!”

“Turn, turn.”
The chant continued. The circle of kids moved to the right.
They stared at Ben and me, as if challenging us—as if daring us to stop them.

“Turn, turn.

Turn to gray.

Turn, turn.

Turn to gray!”

The circle spun around us. The kids danced in rhythm in the billowing fog. A
steady, frightening rhythm.

So cold… so menacing.

So
crazy
!

“Turn, turn.

Turn to gray.

Turn, turn.

Turn to gray.”

And suddenly, watching the eerie dance, listening to their machinelike chant,
I knew. I knew what they were doing. It was some kind of weird ceremony. They
were watching us, holding us there. Holding us there until we were gray like
them.

 

 
21

 

 

“Turn, turn.

Turn to gray.”

As the kids moved in their tight circle, chanting softly, I studied their
faces. So hard… so cold.

They were trying to frighten us.

I counted nine girls and ten boys. All dressed in old-fashioned clothes. Big,
heavy shoes. And I suddenly wished this was all an old movie. All just a movie
and not really happening to Ben and me.

“Turn, turn.

Turn to gray.”

“Why are you doing this?” Ben shouted over their eerie chant. “Why won’t you
talk to us?”

They continued their circle dance, ignoring his cries.

I turned to him, leaning close so that he could hear me. “We have to make a
run for it,” I said. “They’re crazy. They’re going to keep us here. Until we are
totally gray like them.”

Ben nodded solemnly, his eyes on the circle of kids.

He cupped his hands around his mouth to reply to me. And I gasped. His hands
were completely gray.

I raised both of my hands to my face. Gray. Solid gray.

How far had the gray traveled? How much time did Ben and I have?

“We’ve
got
to get away from them,” I told him. “Come on, Ben. On the
count of three. You run this way. And I’ll run that way.” I motioned in two
different directions.

“If we take them by surprise, maybe we can break through,” I said.

“And then what?” Ben replied.

I didn’t want to answer that question. I didn’t
know
the answer.
“Let’s just get away from them!” I cried. “I can’t stand that stupid chanting
for one more second!”

Ben nodded. He sucked in a deep breath.

“One…” I counted.

“Turn, turn.

Turn to gray.”

The chanting kids had tightened their circle. They were nearly arm in arm.

Had they read our minds?

“Two…” I counted. I tensed my leg muscles. Prepared to run.

The curtain of fog had lifted. Puffs of mist clung to the ground. But I could
see dark houses beyond the circle of kids.

If we can break through their linked arms, maybe we can hide in one of those
houses, I thought.

“Good luck,” Ben murmured.

“Three!” I shouted.

We lowered our heads and started to run.

 

 
22

 

 

I went about four steps and slipped on the wet grass.

“OW!” I cried out as pain shot up my right leg. Did I pull a muscle?

The chanting stopped. The gray kids let out shouts of surprise.

My leg throbbed with pain. I had to stop. I bent to rub the leg muscle.

Raising my gaze, I saw Ben dart toward the circle. “Aaaiiiii!” He let out a
wild scream as he ran.

Two boys tackled him: one high, one low. Ben dropped to the grass, and they
fell on top of him.

“Get off! Get off me!” Ben shrieked.

A boy and girl grabbed me roughly. They spun me around. And shoved me hard
toward Ben.

“Let us go!” I cried. “What are you doing? Why are you keeping us here?”

They pulled Ben to his feet. And shoved us together.

They grouped around us quickly, bodies tensed, ready to capture us if we
tried another escape.

“We’re not going anywhere,” I sighed. “Will somebody
please
explain
what is going on here.”

“Turn, turn,”
a girl with long gray braids said in a husky voice.

“I’ve
heard
that!” I cried angrily.

“Turn to gray,”
the girl added. “We’re waiting for you to turn.”

“Why?” I demanded. “Just tell us why.”

“No color in the moon,” she replied. “No color in the stars.”

“No color in my dreams,” a boy added sadly.

“Please—make sense!” Ben pleaded. “I—I don’t understand!”

I rubbed my sore leg. The pain had faded, but the muscle still ached.

“Just help us get back to the school,” I pleaded.

“We left the school!” a boy shouted. “No color in the school.”

“No color anywhere,” a girl cried. “We’ll never go back to school.”

“No school! No school! No school!” some kids chanted.

“But we have to get back there!” I insisted.

“No school! No school! No school!” they chanted again.

“It’s no use,” Ben whispered in my ear. “They’re totally messed up! They
don’t make any sense at all.”

I felt a chill. The air was turning colder.

A wave of terror swept over me. I struggled to fight it back.

Kids grabbed Ben and me. They pushed us roughly across the grass. They held
us tightly by the shoulders and forced us forward.

“Where are you taking us?” I screamed.

They didn’t answer.

Ben and I struggled to break free. But there were too many of them. And they
were too strong.

They pushed us up a dark hill. Wisps of fog swirled around our feet as we
climbed. The tall grass was wet and slippery.

“Where are we going?” I cried. “Tell us! Where are you taking us?”

“The Black Pit!” a girl exclaimed. She pressed her mouth close to my ear as
we walked. “Will you jump, or will we have to push you?”

 

 
23

 

 

“Pit? What kind of pit?” I screamed.

No one answered.

We stopped at the top of the hill. They kept their tight grip on Ben and me.
Over Ben’s shoulder, I saw four kids approaching. As they came nearer, I saw
that they were carrying four large buckets.

They set the buckets down in a row. They shoved Ben and me toward them.

Steam poured up from a dark, bubbling liquid inside. A sharp, sour aroma rose
up in the steam.

A girl carried a stack of metal cups in her arms. She handed a cup to a boy.
He dipped it into the thick black liquid. It made a hissing sound as the cup
dipped low into the liquid.

“Ohhh!” I gasped as the boy raised the steaming cup to his lips, tilted his
head back, and poured the disgusting liquid down his throat.

“No color in the cup!” a boy shouted.

“Drink the blackness!” a girl cried.

“Drink! Drink! Drink!” Kids cheered and applauded.

They lined up eagerly. And as Ben and I stared in horror, they each dipped a
cup into the smelly black gunk—and then drank it down.

“No color in the drink! No color in the cup!”

“Drink! Drink the blackness!”

I tried once again to break free. But three boys held me now. I couldn’t
move.

Kids were cheering and laughing. A boy drank a whole cup of the smelly black
liquid—and then spewed it into the air.

Loud cheers.

A girl spit loudly and sprayed black gunk into the face of the girl beside
her. A boy sprayed the black liquid up like a fountain.

“We cover ourselves in blackness!” a boy boomed in a loud, deep voice. “We
cover ourselves because there’s no color in the moon! No color in the stars! No
color on the earth!”

A girl spit black gunk over the hair of a short boy with glasses. The black
liquid rolled slowly down his forehead and over his glasses. He bent to fill his
cup, drank, and spit a gob of it down the front of the girl’s coat.

Laughing and cheering, hooting at the top of their lungs, they sprayed each
other. Spit and sprayed the hot black gunk until they were all drenched, all
dripping, covered in oily blackness.

“No color in the cup! No color in the drink!”

And then the hands gripped me tighter. And Ben and I were pulled to the top
of the hill.

I gazed down the other side. And saw a steep drop. And down below, at the
bottom…

Too dark.

I couldn’t see a thing. But I could hear the loud bubbling. I could see thick
steam floating up, wave after wave of it. And I could smell the sharp, sour odor—so strong, I started to gag.

“The Black Pit!” someone cried. “Into the Black Pit!”

Lots of kids cheered.

Ben and I were pushed to the edge of the dropoff.

“Jump! Jump! Jump!” some kids began to chant.

“Jump into the Black Pit!”

“But—why?” I shrieked. “Why are you doing this?”

“Cover yourself in blackness!” a girl screamed. “Cover yourself like us!”

BOOK: 59 - The Haunted School
9.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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