I Am Slappy's Evil Twin

by R. L. Stine

  That’s my only explanation for why I did it. And, of course, it was a decision I regretted as soon as we climbed the stairs and stepped into the dark museum of horrors.

  I fumbled for the ceiling light switch. Before I managed to click on the light, I saw eyes staring at me from all around the long, narrow room. The eyes of Dad’s creatures. Werewolf heads and monster masks. A life-sized vampire sculpture. Bat eyes, glowing scarlet even in the darkness.

  Finally, I managed to turn on the light. It flickered overhead, and all the creatures came into focus. Still scary, even in the yellow light. All the creatures appeared to be watching us … watching us and waiting to pounce.

  Of course, I was letting my imagination run away with me.

  But wouldn’t you?

  If the two wooden dummies could come to life, couldn’t the other creatures begin to move around, too? Couldn’t they begin to walk and growl and talk and … attack?

  The little camera almost slipped from my hand. I realized my hands were ice cold and wet with sweat. I gripped the GoPro tightly and held it close to my chest as I led the way down the aisle of display cases.

  “Get ready,” Kelly said. She walked close behind me, close enough to bump me as we made our way to the back of the attic. “Get the camera ready, Luke.”

  I obediently raised the camera. I took a deep, shuddering breath. We stepped up to the glass display case. We both stopped a few inches away and peered down through the glass lid.

  Empty.

  The case was empty.

  “G-gone,” I stammered. I turned to Kelly. But before I could say anything more, I felt a hand grab my shoulder. Hard fingers pressed painfully into my shoulder from behind.

  Kelly and I both started to scream, high wails of terror that shook the attic walls.

  My knees started to fold. I grabbed the top of the case to hold myself up. The hard fingers dug into my shoulder.

  I spun around—and stared at the grinning dummy, his green eyes alive with excitement. His wooden hand held its grip on me, squeezing so tightly, I wanted to scream.

  “Enough playtime, kiddies!” he rasped in his tinny, hoarse voice. “Let’s make a REAL horror film!” He tossed back his head and laughed his cold, ugly laugh.

  I tugged free and staggered back to the wall. I tried to rub the pain from my throbbing shoulder. “Slappy—” I choked out.

  I saw Snappy, his twin, standing against the wall. “Slappy, play nice,” he scolded. “Why can’t you ever get along with others?”

  Slappy spun on his brother. “Shut your wooden mouth. I’ll pound your head like a woodpecker!”

  Snappy shook his head sadly but didn’t reply.

  Slappy lurched forward and swiped the little camera from my hand. He turned it on Kelly and me. “Okay—scream. Let’s hear you scream! Give it all you’ve got!”

  Kelly and I couldn’t help it. We screamed. I hoped our cries might wake up Dad.

  “Why are you doing this?” Kelly yelled at Slappy. “Why?”

  He ignored her question. He just tossed back his head and laughed again. Then he shoved the camera into Kelly’s hands.

  “Okay. Get a good close-up of ME now. Get a good profile shot. Be sure to get my BETTER SIDE! Hahahaha!”

  Kelly’s hands shook as she pointed the camera at him.

  “Know my better side?” Slappy rasped. “The OUTside! Hahaha!”

  “Is that a joke?” Snappy asked.

  “YOU’RE a joke!” Slappy cried. He swung back to Kelly. “Keep filming. Keep filming. Know what I’ve decided to call this movie? The Boy in the Glass Coffin. Catchy, huh?”

  Without warning, he rushed forward, stretched out his arms—and grabbed me around the waist. Tightening his wooden hands around me, he hoisted me off the floor. He had such incredible strength, it was like he was raising a feather.

  “Let GO!” I screamed. “Put me down!”

  I thrashed my arms wildly and swung my legs hard, trying to kick him.

  “Snappy, get over here. Don’t stand there like a dummy. Grab his legs. Help me. Grab his legs!”

  Snappy sighed and shook his head. But then he strode up to me, grabbed my legs, and held them tightly together.

  “Let GO!” I screamed. “What are you doing? Let GO of me!”

  I squirmed and twisted, but they were too strong. They carried me across the floor to the open display case.

  “Are you filming this?” Slappy shouted to Kelly. “This is AWESOME! What a killer scene! Don’t miss this!”

  “Be gentle, Slappy,” his twin scolded. “You don’t want to hurt him.”

  “I’ll hurt YOU if you spoil this dynamite scene!” Slappy cried.

  The two dummies held me high over the glass case, then lowered me into it.

  “No! No way!” I cried.

  But before I could climb out, they lowered the lid over my head.

  “You can’t do this! Let me out—now!” I screamed, pounding on the glass wall.

  Slappy fiddled with the lock. I heard it click. Then he tossed the key away.

  “Let me OUT!” I screamed. I pounded on the glass with both fists.

  I could feel my face turning red. I tried to swallow but couldn’t. It felt as if my heart had jumped into my throat. Through the glass, I saw Kelly frozen with the little video camera still raised.

  “I love it! Let’s see some real terror now, Luke!” Slappy cried. “Bang on the glass. That’s good. Lots of feeling. Okay. Scream, Kelly. Let’s hear it. Sell it! I smell an Academy Award performance! Keep beating the glass, Luke. You’re red in the face now. Excellent. I’m loving it. Love that panic. Keep screaming. Keep pounding. Keep up the panic, everybody! Hahahahaha!”

  Gasping for air, I stopped beating my fists against the glass wall. I held my breath and tried to force my heart to stop beating so hard and fast against my chest. Sweat poured down my face.

  I hunched on my knees, the lid just an inch or two above my head. The air quickly became hot in the glass case. Despite the heat, I felt cold chills at the back of my neck.

  Through the glass, I saw Kelly finally lower the little camera. Her eyes were wide with fright. She gazed at me, then turned back to Slappy.

  “Let him out! Why are you doing this?” she demanded in a trembling voice.

  “Because I can do whatever I want!” the dummy replied. “Did you forget? I’m Slappy!”

  “Don’t brag,” Snappy said softly. “It isn’t nice to brag.”

  Slappy gave his twin a two-handed push. “I’ll try to be more polite, Snappy,” he said. “Is there a polite way to tell you to shut your wooden trap?”

  “That hurts my feelings,” Snappy replied.

  Slappy tilted his head back and laughed. Then he turned back to Kelly. “Your father likes horror movies. We’ll see how he likes THIS one!”

  “You have to let my brother out of there!” Kelly declared.

  Slappy shook his head. “The only thing I have to do is destroy your father. First, Snappy and I are going to frighten him. Then we’re going to ruin his film. Then we’re going to ruin his LIFE!”

  “You … you … can’t do that. You can’t hurt my dad,” Kelly stammered.

  “Oh, yes I can.” Slappy cackled. “He thinks he’s going to sell us to two different collectors. He thinks he’s going to split us up. I’m afraid Mr. Harrison, the big movie director, will have to pay for that idea!”

  “But … you and Snappy don’t even like each other!” Kelly cried.

  “Mainly, I don’t like YOU!” Slappy growled.

  I pressed my face against the glass wall of the display case. “Kelly, run downstairs!” I called. “Get Dad! Hurry!” But she didn’t hear me.

  Instead of trying to get to the attic stairs, Kelly lurched at Slappy. She wrapped her hands around his head and tried to slam him to the floor.

  But he was too strong for her. He ducked low and pulled his head free. Then he shot forward and gave her a hard head butt. I could hear the craaaack of the collis
ion through the glass.

  Kelly groaned and sank to the floor on her knees. Slappy came at her and swung his shoe hard in a vicious kick. She dodged to the right, and his foot sailed over her shoulder.

  With another loud groan, she grabbed his leg, pulled it with all her strength—and the dummy clattered to the floor.

  Snappy stood frozen, watching the fight, half-hidden behind a tall display case. I silently urged Kelly to get up. Get up and run downstairs.

  And to my surprise, she did it. Slappy’s legs had tangled. He twisted his body, struggling to climb to his feet.

  Kelly jumped over him and took off for the stairs.

  “Come back!” Slappy called after her. “The scene isn’t over. The horror is just beginning! Hahaha!”

  Kelly vanished down the stairs. I hunched on my hands and knees. And waited. Waited for her to bring Dad.

  The air was growing thin inside the case. My breath had steamed one side of the glass. I was drenched in a cold sweat.

  The two dummies stood against the wall, ignoring me. They were arguing. Their big wooden hands flew in the air in front of them as they shouted at each other.

  Hurry, Dad. Please hurry, I thought. It’s getting hard to breathe in here. Please hurry.

  Finally, I heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Kelly came bursting into the attic. Dad followed, moving slowly, still half-asleep, fiddling with the belt on his bathrobe.

  He took a few steps. Then he stopped, and his eyes bulged when he saw me in the glass case.

  “Dad—now do you believe us?” Kelly cried.

  Dad didn’t move. Maybe he thought he was still asleep and dreaming the whole scene. He squinted hard at me.

  “What on earth—” he muttered finally.

  Then he lowered his eyes to the floor and stepped back in surprise.

  I saw what he was staring at. The two dummies. They were tangled up, in a lifeless heap on the floor against the wall. Dad pushed one in the back with his bare foot. It flopped limply against the floor.

  “Do you see?” Kelly cried, pointing a trembling finger at me in the glass case. “Dad—you see what they did to Luke? You believe us now—right?”

  Dad rubbed his beard with both hands. “Kelly, get serious,” he said. “Did you really think you could fool me with this trick?”

  Kelly’s mouth dropped open. “Huh? Trick?”

  Dad poked the dummy again with his toe. “You really want me to believe that these dummies put Luke in the case? Look at them, Kelly. They’re not alive. They don’t move on their own.”

  “But, Dad—”

  “If you wanted to fool me,” Dad said, “why didn’t you at least stand the dummies up? Why did you toss them in a heap on the floor?” He scowled. “Now, let’s get your brother out of there before he suffocates. Where’s the key?”

  Kelly blinked. “I don’t know. Slappy threw it across the room.”

  “Stop it, Kelly!” Dad screamed. Dad is such a quiet guy, it’s always a shock when he raises his voice. Kelly actually jumped. “No more dummy talk,” Dad said. “Find the key.”

  Kelly scrambled down the row of display cases. She dropped to her knees and began searching the floor.

  Dad stepped up to the case and peered in at me. “Are you okay?” he asked. “This was a really stupid thing to do.” He shook his head. “You two are supposed to be smart. Why on earth did you decide to play these stupid dummy games?”

  They’re not games, I thought. The twin dummies are really out to teach Dad a lesson. They are dangerous.

  We had to convince Dad before they did something really horrible. But how?

  “Found it!” Kelly shouted from across the attic. She came running over with the key in her hand.

  A few seconds later, I was out of the glass case, legs trembling, drenched in sweat, breathing hard, my chest moving in and out like an accordion.

  Dad put a hand on my shoulder. “Promise me you’ll never pull a stupid stunt like this again.”

  “It wasn’t a stunt!” Kelly’s jaw clenched. She only did that when she was furiously angry. “Dad, you have got to believe us.”

  She grabbed the GoPro camera and shoved it into his hands. “Check this out. It’s all on video. Watch it, Dad. Then it’s your turn to apologize to Luke and me.”

  Dad fumbled the camera between his hands. Then he raised it close and studied the screen. Squinting hard, he pressed a button. Then another.

  He raised his eyes to Kelly. “It’s blank. There’s nothing here.”

  Kelly let out a cry of disgust and slapped her forehead. “Luke—” she shouted. “Did you forget to press the RECORD button?”

  She was right. I never pressed it.

  Just kill me now, I thought.

  Dad tucked the camera into his bathrobe pocket. “You promised there wouldn’t be one more dummy incident,” Dad said. “Remember? You and your brother promised, Kelly.”

  “But, Dad—”

  “So … I have no choice. You two are off the movie. You have to break it to your friend Jamal. You’re not going to the set. You’re not going to be in the film.”

  A few minutes later, I climbed into bed. Even though it was a warm night, I pulled the covers up to my chin. My body was still shaking, and my brain was whirring with angry and frightening thoughts.

  Thoughts about the two dummies and their plan to ruin Dad.

  Thoughts about how Dad might never trust Kelly and me again.

  He said we were acting stupid.

  And now we can’t be in the movie.

  I sat up, turned, and punched my pillow hard. I had to punch something!

  I was still sitting up when I heard the sounds from my bedroom window. The window was open, and I could see the pale yellow light of a full moon, low in the night sky.

  I listened. It sounded like someone giggling. Shrill laughter.

  I nearly tripped and fell, tangled in my bedsheet, as I bolted to the window. I peered down to the backyard. And there they were.

  The two dummies. Slappy and Snappy. Clapping their hands above their heads, twisting and turning and kicking. Doing a wild, crazy dance under the moonlight.

  Were they celebrating their victory over Kelly and me?

  I watched them dance for a few seconds. Then I turned and raced out into the hall.

  Dad had a glass of juice in his hand. He was about to go into his bedroom.

  “Dad!” I screamed. “Hurry! Come fast!” I motioned with both hands for him to follow me to my room.

  He hesitated. I rushed forward, grabbed his arm, almost spilling the juice. I tugged him into my room. Up to the window. “Look!” I cried.

  “Just look.” I tilted his head down.

  Then I peered down to the yard beside him.

  The two dummies were gone.

  The next morning, a Saturday, Dad was already dressed and setting the breakfast table when Kelly and I came downstairs. We were yawning and droopy and sleepy-eyed. I know I hadn’t slept much, and I bet Kelly hadn’t, either.

  “Listen, Dad—” I started.

  But he raised a hand to silence me. “No time for any discussions this morning,” he said. “I’m having an important breakfast meeting here. I asked Lucy to set up your breakfast on the patio by the pool.”

  Lucy is our housekeeper. She has her own apartment in the guest house on the other side of our swimming pool.

  “Who’s coming?” I asked, yawning.

  “Simon Benedict,” Dad said. “He’s the exec producer of my last four films. Know what that means? It means he puts up the money. He pays for everything.”

  “So you want to impress him?” Kelly said. She picked up a fork and twirled it between her fingers.

  Dad took the fork from her and returned it to the napkin it had been placed on. “I don’t have to impress Simon,” he said. “We’ve known each other a long time, and I’ve made a lot of money for him.”

  Dad smiled. “But I do want to stay on his good side.”

  Kelly an
d I made our way to the patio. “Dad does want to impress this guy,” Kelly whispered. “He never makes breakfast for anyone here at the house.”

  I followed her out the back door. It was a beautiful, warm, cloudless Los Angeles morning. The trees shimmered on the hills around our house, and the air smelled sweet like flowers.

  A squirrel stared at us from the center of the patio. It was eyeing a nut on a lounge chair cushion. The nut must have fallen from one of the fruit trees that overhangs the patio.

  The pool glistened like silver, reflecting the morning sun above us.

  I turned when a shadow caught my eye. A slender blue-black shadow at the edge of the house. I grabbed Kelly’s shoulder. “Look.”

  We both gazed at the two dummies. They leaned against the redwood shingles at the back wall of the house, half-hidden in shade. They were watching us.

  “I don’t believe it,” I muttered.

  Kelly opened her mouth to reply, but stopped. Slappy was motioning with one hand, waving us over.

  We both hesitated. But we knew we couldn’t ignore them. We had no choice. We had to find out what they wanted.

  I turned back and looked for Lucy. Did she see them, too?

  No. Lucy had put out our breakfast on the glass table by the pool and had gone back inside.

  I took a deep breath and led the way toward the dummies. When we came close, they grabbed us by the arms and tugged us out of sight, around to the side of the house.

  “What are you doing out here?” I demanded, jerking my arm free. “What do you want?”

  “Do you want us to leave?” Slappy rasped, his glassy green eyes reflecting the sun, making them appear on fire. “Do you want Snappy and me to leave? I’ll tell you how you can do it.”

  “Is this a joke?” Kelly asked. “Are you serious?”

  “I’m serious,” Slappy said, his jaw clicking as it moved up and down.

  Snappy nodded but didn’t speak.

  “You do one thing for me. And my brother and I will disappear, and you’ll never see us again,” Slappy said.

  Kelly and I just stared at them. My brain was spinning. Could we really get rid of these two frightening pests?