Attack of the Graveyard Ghouls

by R. L. Stine

  “Time to go! Time to go, everyone!” I could hear Mrs. Webster calling from the graveyard gate.

  But I stared down at the tombstone I had just knocked over. The crow, lying on the ground.

  With a groan, I pulled off the backpack and set it against a tree. Then I bent down and struggled to pull the big stone back up.

  “Oh, wow,” I muttered.

  It weighed a ton. I couldn’t budge it.

  “Hey — somebody help me!” I called. But they were all heading down the hill. Even Audra.

  “Hey! Wait up!” I called after her.

  I let go of the big stone, stood up, and took a step toward the gate.

  And a hand reached up from the ground — and wrapped itself around my ankle.

  I opened my mouth to scream — but only a tiny squeak escaped.

  The hand tightened its grip on my ankle. I could feel the cold of its flesh wrap around me.

  “Noooooo.” I uttered a low moan of horror. And kicked hard.

  And burst free.

  I lurched forward. My baseball cap flew off. I didn’t stop to pick it up. I ran.

  Ran through the broken gate. “Wait up! Wait up!” I shrieked. “A hand! A hand from a grave!”

  Audra, Frank, Buddy, and a few other kids turned to stare at me. “Spencer, what’s your problem?” Buddy called.

  I spun away from them and stared back into the graveyard.

  The hand. The cold, cold hand that had poked up from the dirt — where was it?

  Where?

  No sign of it now.

  The graveyard stood silent and still. A tiny brown-and-black chipmunk darted between tilting gravestones. I stood watching it, catching my breath, waiting for my body to stop trembling.

  Was it really a hand that grabbed me? The hand of a graveyard ghoul?

  Or did my foot get tangled in a vine or weed?

  I stared at the tall grass between the gravestones. Nothing moving. Nothing there.

  With a sigh, I turned and hurried after the rest of the class. They were halfway down the hill.

  Running breathlessly, I caught up to Audra. She eyed me suspiciously. “What’s wrong, Spencer? What happened to you?”

  “Nothing,” I replied. “I just like graveyards. You know. I like the … uh … atmosphere.”

  Yeah. Sure.

  I hope I never have to go up there again! I told myself.

  Little did I know that I’d be back in the graveyard before the night was over. With no chance of getting out alive.

  “Where is my backpack?” I heard Jason’s shrill voice from down the hall.

  I was sitting in front of my computer after dinner, finishing an English paper. Downstairs, I could hear my little brother and sister crying. And I could hear Mom sounding very stern: “I won’t talk to you two till you stop crying. Now, stop it! Please!”

  I tried to shut out all the noise and concentrate on my homework. But Jason popped his head into my room. “Where is my backpack?” he demanded.

  “How should I know?” I lied.

  “I need it for tomorrow, and it isn’t in my closet,” Jason whined.

  I stared hard at him. Thinking. Thinking …

  And I realized where his backpack was. I’d left it up in the graveyard!

  “It was right on my shelf!” Jason cried. “And I need it tomorrow morning.” His voice was climbing higher and higher.

  “Uh … I think I might know where it is,” I confessed.

  I shut my eyes. I pictured myself in the graveyard this morning. I set the stupid backpack down against a tree.

  When I thought that a hand grabbed my ankle, my baseball cap flew off, I remembered. But I didn’t stop to pick it up. I ran out of there as fast as I could. And I forgot all about the backpack, too.

  Now what?

  “Go get it!” Jason demanded angrily. He tried to pull me up by the shoulders. “You’re not allowed to borrow my stuff. Go get it, Spencer — or I’m telling!”

  I could still hear Remy and Charlotte crying downstairs, and Mom screaming at them to stop.

  If I tell Mom I took Jason’s backpack and left it in the graveyard, she’ll kill me! I decided.

  “No problem,” I told my brother. “Calm down. I’ll go get it.”

  Why did I say that? Was I really going to climb up to the Highgrave Cemetery at night?

  Did I have a choice?

  I sent Jason back to his room so I could think. Then I paced back and forth in my little room, three steps one way, three steps back, my mind racing.

  I can’t go up there alone, I knew.

  Once again, I felt the cold fingers tightening around my ankle.

  No. No way I can go to the graveyard alone.

  I took a deep breath, picked up the phone, and punched Audra’s number. “Could you do me a little favor?” I blurted as soon as she picked up.

  “A favor? Who is this? Spencer?”

  “Yeah. It’s me. Can you come up to the graveyard with me — for just a second? I need to get a couple of things up there.”

  There was a very long pause on her end. Then, finally, Audra said, “You’re joking — right?”

  * * *

  I told Mom and Dad I was going over to Audra’s to do homework. Then I slipped out the back door, zipping my jacket against the cold wind that blew down from the hillside.

  I tested my flashlight as I trotted through the backyards. It sent an orange circle of light over the frosty grass.

  Audra met me at the side of her garage. She wore a heavy down parka, and she had her hair tucked under a wool ski cap.

  “Are we really going up to the graveyard to get a baseball cap and a backpack?” she asked, shaking her head.

  “I already explained,” I said, shining the flashlight in her face. “It’s the backpack I have to get. I never should have borrowed the stupid thing from Jason in the first place.”

  We leaned into the wind and began our climb. The tall grass up the hillside was slick from the frosty dew. Audra grabbed my arm, and we made our way up slowly.

  “Frank called me right after you did,” she said.

  “Huh? What did he want?” I asked.

  “He wanted to borrow my history notes. But I told him I was going up to the graveyard with you.” Audra laughed. “Frank sounded really surprised.”

  “Why did you tell him what we were doing?” I demanded.

  She shrugged but didn’t answer. We stepped around a clump of scraggly, bare trees. Their limbs trembled in the wind, making a soft creaking sound.

  “Why did you scream up in the graveyard this morning?” Audra asked. “Tell me the truth this time.”

  “Huh, me? Scream? I … uh … thought I saw something.”

  “You don’t believe in those graveyard ghouls you wrote about in your English paper, do you?” Audra’s green eyes studied me.

  “No way,” I muttered.

  I gazed up to the top of Highgrave Hill. No strange flickering lights tonight. No eerie mist. The moon floated low in a clear black sky.

  We stopped as we walked through the open gate.

  I swept my flashlight over a row of old tombstones. They tilted against each other as if asleep.

  I jumped as something leaped out from the bottom of a tall, narrow gravestone.

  A rabbit.

  Audra laughed. “Spencer — you jumped a mile! It’s only a little bunny rabbit.”

  “Let’s grab the backpack and get out of here,” I murmured. “I’m pretty sure I left it near that double grave.”

  A cloud rolled over the moon. I struggled to see as the graveyard darkened. I raised the beam of light and swept it along the rows of graves.

  “I wish I brought a flashlight, too,” Audra whispered. I saw her shiver. “It’s so dark up here now.”

  “Just stick close to me,” I said. I felt as frightened as Audra did, but I’d never let her know that.

  The wind whistled as it blew through the gnarled, old graveyard trees. The bare limbs shook and c
reaked. Tall grass brushed against the tilting gravestones, making a SHUSSSSH SHUSSSSH sound.

  We made our way along a row of low graves. “Oh!” I cried out as my left foot sank into a hole. Pain shot up from my ankle. I rubbed the foot till it stopped hurting.

  “I’m okay. Just twisted it a little,” I explained.

  I climbed a low rise and turned into the next row. And spotted the backpack on the ground, resting against a bent, old tree.

  I hurried over to it, kneeled down, and grabbed it with both hands. The dew had frozen on it, spreading a thin layer of frost over the canvas. I brushed it off with one hand.

  I could hear Audra breathing hard behind me — loud, rasping breaths.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Why are you out of breath?”

  She didn’t reply.

  I continued brushing the frost off the backpack. But I stopped when I heard leaves rustling in front of me.

  I raised my eyes to the sound. I gazed down the row of tombstones — as someone stepped out quickly from behind a tree.

  “Who —?” I uttered.

  Too dark to see.

  The figure moved toward me, taking long strides.

  “Audra!” I cried, finally recognizing her. “What were you doing over there?”

  But then a more frightening question burst into my mind: If Audra was over by the tree, who was breathing so hard behind me?

  With a cry, I spun around.

  No one there. No one.

  Someone had stood breathing hard behind me, I knew. Loud, raspy breaths. So close behind.

  If it wasn’t Audra, who was it? Where did they go?

  A chill ran down my back. The backpack slid out of my hand. I bent to pick it up.

  When I stood, Audra had vanished again.

  “Audra? What’s going on?” I cried.

  “Sorry.” Her voice rose up from a grassy slope. “I lost you in the dark, Spencer. There is a really awesome gravestone here. You should check it out.”

  I swung the backpack onto my shoulders. Then I raised the flashlight and aimed it in Audra’s direction.

  She was bent over a tiny gravestone carved in black. “It’s a little baby’s grave,” she called, her voice muffled in the rush of wind. “And it has a long lullaby engraved on the stone. It … it’s so sad, Spencer.”

  “That baby probably died a hundred years ago,” I muttered. I started over to her, the circle of orange light from the flashlight bouncing off the gravestones. “I found the stupid backpack. We can go, Audra.”

  “Okay. Just come take a look at this,” she called.

  Fiddling with the backpack, I started along the row of graves toward her. But the light beam stopped on something on the ground.

  My cap! My baseball cap.

  I had forgotten all about it.

  “All right!” I cried happily.

  I bent down. Scooped it off the grass.

  And screamed.

  Resting snugly inside the cap — a head!

  A real human head!

  Dark, sunken eyes stared at me. The mouth hung open loosely, revealing black toothless gums.

  My stomach heaved. I started to gag.

  My hands began to shake, and the head dropped out of the cap. It bounced against my shoe and rolled into the grass.

  “A … head!” I choked out. Too weak for Audra to hear.

  “Spencer, what are you doing?” she called through the darkness.

  My stomach heaved again. I could still see those blank, sunken eyes.

  “Audra … help!” I gasped. “A head. Someone’s head was in my cap!”

  “Huh?” I heard the crunch of leaves. Audra came running over. “I can’t hear you, Spencer.”

  “Look —” I waved the cap in my hand.

  “Is that your cap?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at me.

  “The head …” I murmured through chattering teeth. “A real head!” I pointed.

  She gazed down at the grass. “Where?”

  The flashlight trembled in my hand. I struggled to hold the light steady. “There!” I cried.

  Holding the sides of her ski cap, Audra squinted into the light. Then she turned back to me. “I don’t see anything, Spencer.”

  I stared down, moving the light in slow circles over the grass. No … no … no …

  No head.

  Vanished.

  But I knew I had seen it. Those cold, sunken eyes stayed in my mind.

  “Graveyard ghouls,” I murmured. “I … I thought it was some kind of legend. You know, a creepy ghost story everyone in town shared. But —”

  Audra placed a hand on the shoulder of my coat. “Spencer, take it easy. You’re shaking all over.”

  I opened my mouth to reply — but a sound made me stop.

  A scraping, scratching sound, followed by soft thuds.

  And then, a voice moaned on the wind, “Spencer … give … me … back … my … head!”

  “Noooo!”

  I screamed. Spun around.

  I heard high-pitched laughter. And saw Frank Foreman step into the row of graves. Buddy Tanner followed close behind him, along with two big, beefy guys I recognized from school.

  “Well? Give me back my head!” Frank declared. They burst out laughing all over again.

  “How long were you standing there?” I choked out. “What are you doing here?”

  Frank grinned at Audra. “Audra told me you two were coming up here for a picnic. So how come we weren’t invited?”

  “It’s not a picnic,” Audra snapped. “I told you not to come, Frank.”

  “We’re leaving now, anyway,” I said. I started toward the gate.

  Frank moved quickly to block my path. “You sure, Spencer?” he taunted. “You sure you’re leaving?”

  “Give us a break, guys,” Audra pleaded. “You’re not funny. It’s cold up here and —”

  “And there really are ghouls,” I blurted out.

  I was sorry the moment I said it.

  Why did I let that slip? I knew they’d never let me forget it for the rest of my life!

  “Ghouls?” Buddy sneered. “Hey, Frank, he really believes that stuff.”

  “Of course he does,” Frank replied, grinning at me. “That’s because Spencer is a ghoul!”

  “Let us go!” I insisted.

  But Frank grabbed me by the shoulders. The flashlight fell from my hand. It clattered against a tombstone, hit the ground, and went out.

  “Spencer doesn’t want to leave,” Frank insisted.

  “Because he’s a ghoul,” Buddy added. “He’s a graveyard ghoul.”

  “Spencer is a ghoul,” the other two guys repeated.

  “Get lost!” I yelled, hoping I sounded brave. I jerked free of Frank’s grasp. I grabbed Audra’s hand, ready to run.

  “Come on, Spencer. You know you don’t want to leave,” Frank insisted. “You want to stay here, right? With the other ghouls?”

  “Leave him alone,” Audra demanded.

  “Hey — we’re just kidding around here,” Frank told her. He grabbed me and pinned me against a tree.

  “What’s the big idea?” I cried, starting to sweat despite the cold.

  Then I saw that one of the other guys had a rope — and my legs began to shake.

  “What are you going to do?” Audra screamed. “Leave him alone. This isn’t funny! Come on, Spencer. Let’s get out of here.”

  Frank pulled me away from the tree and shoved me up against a tall gravestone. I could feel the cold stone through my jacket.

  I swung my arm to hit Frank.

  But Buddy and another boy grabbed me. They pinned my arms behind me.

  I kicked my legs. I tried to yank free, but Frank’s friends held on tightly.

  “You’re going too far!” Audra shrieked. “This isn’t a joke, Frank! You can’t do this to him!”

  Frank laughed.

  Audra turned to me. “Don’t worry, Spencer. I’m going for help.” She spun away from us and vanished thr
ough the cemetery gate.

  “Let me go!” I yelled, twisting and turning, fighting to free myself.

  “Graveyard ghoul. Graveyard ghoul,” the boys chanted as they wound the rope around me, tying me tightly to the gravestone.

  “Let me go.” I kicked out as hard as I could. But that made them pull the rope even tighter.

  “Bye, ghooooul!” Frank howled. Then they all raced out of the graveyard and down Highgrave Hill.

  This can’t be happening! I thought, struggling to free myself.

  Tied to a gravestone in Highgrave Cemetery in the middle of the night!

  “Wait! Please!” I called to them.

  “Don’t leave me up here!” My heart pounded in my chest. I felt the gravestone on my back, so cold, so cold …

  “Please — come back!”

  “Frank, come back! Hey — guys!” I screamed.

  I could hear them laughing as they ran down the hill.

  “Help me! Hey — guys! Don’t leave me here!” I pleaded.

  I tugged at the ropes, screaming for help.

  A fluttering sound above my head made me freeze.

  I felt a rush of cold air against my face. Another flutter, and something flickered against my cheek.

  Bats!

  Dozens of chittering bats. My shouts had scared them — and sent them flying from the trees.

  I tried to duck as they darted low over my head. I saw flaring red eyes — and felt another rush of cold wind against my face.

  Back and forth they swooped, chittering, whistling, their wings fluttering so close.

  “Please —” I choked out. “Please —”

  Another low swoop. Another flash of tiny red eyes.

  And then they vanished into the treetops.

  Silence now.

  Except for the rapid thudding of my heart.

  “Spencer, stay calm,” I said out loud. “You’re not going to be out here all night. Someone will rescue you. Audra went to get help. She will bring someone. They will be up here really soon.”

  The bitter wind of Highgrave Hill picked up. It whipped the dead, brittle leaves on the ground. It blew dirt up into my face.

  The old trees creaked and groaned.

  A long, low moan from nearby made my heart skip a beat.

  “Where is Audra?” I asked out loud. “What’s taking her so long?”