House of a Thousand Screams (7 page)

What was that creak? Was the poltergeist sneaking up on us now? If it could make dress dummies and bedspreads come to life, what else could it do? Could it take over our parents? Control them? Make them wander through the house like robots?

I shuddered and burrowed farther into the covers. Something hard poked my arm. I felt around and found the object. I peered at it in the dark.

The magic glasses!

But I'd left them in my room! I clearly remembered putting them down on my dresser. Right before I went to brush my teeth.

“Freddy?” I called softly.

No answer.

“Freddy, wake up.” I reached up and gave him a shove.

“What?” He sat up, rubbing his eyes. “What is it? What?”

“The magic glasses,” I said urgently. “Did you bring them in here from my room?”

Freddy leaned down from his bunk and grabbed his own glasses from the nightstand. “No.”

“Well, why are they in my bunk, then?” I felt panic rising again, grabbing me by the throat.

The glasses had moved on their own!

“Maybe the poltergeist put them there,” Freddy suggested.

Maybe. But why?

I slipped the glasses on and looked around the room. It was easy to see in the dark with them on. Another magic quality they had, I guess. No poltergeist in the room.

Then I heard another noise from downstairs. A new noise. The sound of something scraping, shuffling against the floor.

Something was down there. I was certain of it. Was it planning to get me and Freddy? Or Mom and Dad?

Stay calm,
I told myself.

Yeah, right.

I pushed back the covers and climbed out of bed. “Get up,” I ordered Freddy.

We couldn't just lie there in the dark, waiting for whatever it was to come get us. We had to
do
something.

Even if it meant risking our lives!

W
e needed weapons. The best we could come up with was Freddy's baseball bat and my tennis racket. Oh, well, better than nothing. Holding them ready, we tiptoed down the hall.

I still had the magic glasses on. So I spotted him right away. The little hairy guy from the attic. Leaning calmly against the stair railing. He looked as if he was waiting for a bus.

I jumped forward and swatted at him.

He vanished! Just like that!

I spun around. “Where'd he go?” I asked softly.

“Peeps,”
I heard in my ear.

“Ack!” I squawked. “Freddy! The poltergeist! He's on my shoulder!”

“Hold still!” Freddy ordered, and swung the bat.

I barely ducked in time to save my head. “Watch it, lamebrain!” I whispered furiously. “You almost decked me.”

“I didn't mean to,” he argued. “I can't see the stupid poltergeist, remember? I was just trying to help.”

I reached up and felt my shoulder. Nothing there.

“Well, he's gone anyway,” I said. “That's what matters. Now, for pete's sake, keep quiet. The last thing we need is for Mom and Dad to wake up and catch us out here. They'd ship us to the loony bin for sure.”

We crept down the stairs. The poltergeist kept popping in and out of sight. Each time, I took a swing at him with my racket. And missed.

He was playing with us! The little creep!

When we reached the downstairs hall, the poltergeist stood on a chair. Waiting for us. His little black eyes glittered at me. I pounced and thwacked the racket on the seat of the chair.

Nothing.

“Did you get him?” Freddy asked.

“No,” I growled. I flipped on a light.

“How come you keep missing?” Freddy wanted to know.

I gave him a look. “He keeps vanishing. How do you expect me to hit something that can just blink on and off like that? I think he pops from one place to another.”

Then I heard
“Peeps”
again. And felt something land on my head. Oh, yuck!

I slowly raised my hands, trying to catch the little guy by surprise. All I caught was air.

Frustrated, I pulled off the glasses and handed them to Freddy. “Here, you try. Maybe you can do better. And use my racket instead of that bat. That way at least you won't kill
me
while you're trying to bean
him.”

Freddy leaned the bat against the wall and gave me his glasses to hold. Then he put on the magic glasses.

“There he goes!” he called immediately. He sped toward the den. I followed.

When I got there, I found Freddy standing still as a statue. The light was on—his hand was still on the switch. The tennis racket hung loose in his other hand.

All around us was that weird little sound:
“Peeps. Peeps. Peeeeeeps!”

I felt cold. “What's going on?” I said. “Freddy, what's wrong?”

Silently, he handed me the glasses. I slipped them on.

And gasped.

The room was filled with poltergeists!

They sat on the bookshelves, and the television. They hung from the lamps, from the ceiling fan. They danced along the curtain rods. They bounced on the sofa cushions.

There were
dozens
of the little guys. Some were covered with brown hair. Some with black. Some with
red. Three or four were spotted, like Dalmatians. I even saw one with black-and-white zebra stripes. And all their tubelike mouths were working overtime.
“Peeps. Peeps. Peeeeps!”

Then, all at once, every single one of them stopped
peepsing.
And turned to face us.

Slowly the little things made a circle, surrounding us. My knees shook so hard I thought I was going to fall over. I reached out and grabbed the back of a chair.

“Wh-why is it quiet all of a sudden?” Freddy stammered. Without the magic glasses, he was lost. “What's happening?”

“You don't want to know,” I told him. “Just stick close to me.”

The poltergeists' black eyes gleamed. The circle closed tighter. And they drew nearer.

Nearer.

This was the end! I shut my eyes. I didn't want to see.

Then a new sound broke the silence. A much uglier sound than the poltergeists'
peepsing.
It snarled and rumbled like nothing I'd ever heard.

My eyes flew open. I spun around, trying to see what it was.

Then I realized the sound came from outside the room.

But whatever made it was moving toward the den.

With a mad burst of
peepsing,
the poltergeists scattered. One leapt to an electric socket. I gasped as
his body thinned, folded like paper, and squeezed through the tiny plug hole.

Others slipped like mist through cracks in the brick chimneypiece. One flattened itself and slid under the closet door. In a flash they were gone. We were alone.

The snarling noise grew louder. Clearly, whatever made that horrible sound had scared away all the poltergeists.

And if it could scare a poltergeist, what kind of horrible thing could
it
be?

Without realizing it, Freddy and I had backed up all the way to Mom's plate wall. Our backs were against it when a solid
thud
came from the other side. I could feel it all down my back.

Whatever was on the other side of that wall was powerful. And it was
coming after us!

A horrible bubbling growl ripped the air.

“We've got to get out of here,” I whispered.

Freddy didn't answer. He simply barreled out of the room.

“Wait for me!” I called, and tore out behind him.

We rushed up the stairs and into Freddy's room. I closed the door and turned the key in the lock.

“That should do it,” I said. I moved into the room.

Freddy stared past me. “Look!” he whispered hoarsely. He pointed at the door.

I looked.

The doorknob was turning. All by itself.

W
e both stared at the turning doorknob. I felt helpless, like a bird facing a snake.

We were cornered. Was this the end? Were they coming for us?

I heard Freddy whimper behind me. He sounded really scared. Not that I could blame him. My heart thudded like crazy in my chest. I felt cold sweat trickle down my back.

And then the doorknob stopped moving.

My breathing stopped too, for a moment. I shoved the magic glasses up on my nose and stared at the crack under the door. Were poltergeists about to start popping through?

Or something
worse
than poltergeists?

But nothing happened. Nothing at all.

After about five minutes my muscles started to relax. Maybe we'd live until morning after all. Still, I didn't want to take too many chances. . . .

“I think we should keep watch,” I told Freddy. “We'll take turns. I'll do the first watch. I'll wake you in an hour for the second. Deal?”

Freddy nodded gloomily. “Deal. But I'm too scared to fall asleep anyway.”

“Try,” I said, and patted him on the shoulder. Poor little Brainiac.

He climbed up to his bunk and lay down on top of the covers. I slid into the bottom bunk and leaned against the wall. I wore the magic glasses. I wanted to see them if they came.

The minutes slid by. I kept my eyes fixed on the door. My fingers clutched the baseball bat tightly. No way they were getting past me. No way. No way . . .

*   *   *

I woke up with a start at a peeping noise.

Hey! It was morning! Sun poured in the window. A robin perched on the sill, chirping. That must have been the sound that woke me.

I scrambled out of bed in a hurry. What if they'd come while I was sleeping? What if they'd done something horrible to Freddy?

But Freddy snored peacefully in his bunk. Whew! We'd survived the night.

I opened the door and peeped out. Everything seemed normal—at least in the upstairs hall.

Freddy made groggy waking noises. “What time is it? Is it my turn?” he murmured. Then he slid his glasses on. “Hey, it's morning! What happened?”

“I guess I fell asleep,” I admitted. “Sorry. But we made it through the night anyhow.”

Freddy blinked. “But what if they come back? What are we going to do?”

I bit my lip. “When we get home from school, let's try sticking close to Mom and Dad. Whatever they do, we do. If we're with them when the poltergeists come back, they'll
have
to believe us.”

“What do we do when Mom and Dad go to bed?” Freddy asked.

“We'll wait until they're asleep and sneak in with them. We'll sleep on the floor if we have to.”

Freddy swung his legs over the edge of the bunk and jumped to the floor. “I hope it works. I hope the poltergeists
do
try something in front of Mom and Dad. Because I get the feeling they aren't only trying to scare us.”

I knew what Freddy meant. I could still see the poltergeists in my mind. Closing in on us. Their eyes gleaming. Their faces full of hate.

Freddy was right. They didn't just want to scare us.

They wanted to get rid of us!