Series 2000- Return to Horroland

by R. L. Stine

  They disappeared around the side of the pyramid.

  “Can we do something less scary? Please?” Clay begged.

  Luke laughed at Clay. “How about a race?” He grabbed Clay’s glasses from his face and took off.

  “Hey—give me those!” Clay chased after him.

  I hurried after them. Clay caught up with Luke and tackled him around the waist.

  “Okay! Okay!” Luke cried. He handed the glasses back. But first he smeared his thumbs over the lenses. “Pretend it’s a foggy day!” he told Clay. Then he danced away, laughing like a maniac.

  “Where are we?” I asked, glancing around. Across from us, I saw a small store. GRAVEYARD GIFT SHOP, a sign proclaimed. I saw tombstones in the window. And some grinning skulls.

  A shiny white building rose up in front of us. A bright red-and-white sign over the door read: HAPPY TOOTH GAME. A giant painting of a grinning molar covered the front wall.

  “That looks good,” Clay declared. “Come on.”

  “Sure. Why not? Let’s go in,” I said, staring at the grinning tooth. “How scary can that be?”

  Another smiling tooth was painted on the glass door of the building. I pushed open the door and led the others inside.

  We found ourselves in a waiting room. Plastic chairs and couches. A low coffee table piled high with tattered old magazines. A gurgling tropical fish aquarium in one wall.

  A female Horror in a white nurse’s uniform smiled at us from behind a desk at the front of the room. Above her head, another red-and-white sign: A HAPPY TOOTH IS A HAPPY TOOTH.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I whispered to Luke.

  He shrugged.

  “This looks good,” Clay sighed. “Not too scary.”

  “It looks bor-ring,” Luke complained.

  “Do you have an appointment?” the nurse asked. She glanced down at a thick appointment book.

  “No, we don’t,” I replied.

  “Well, that’s no problem.” Her smile grew wider. “We have a lot of dentists.”

  “Huh? Dentists?” I cried. “This is some kind of game—right?”

  She stood up. “Follow me.”

  She pushed open the door behind her and held it for us. We stepped into a bright white room, so bright I shut my eyes.

  I heard shrill, whirring sounds all around.

  And kids screaming. And crying.

  Blinking against the brightness, I stared in shock at an endless row of dental chairs. Gleaming white chairs and spit sinks.

  What a horrifying scene!

  There had to be at least twenty or thirty chairs, with a screaming patient in almost every one.

  White-uniformed dentists hunched over their patients. Drills whistled. The screams and cries couldn’t drown out the terrifying drills.

  Another nurse strode rapidly toward us. She carried a clipboard in one hand. “The Monster Dentist will see you now,” she rasped. “Follow me.”

  “No. Wait—” I held back.

  “Let’s go-get out of here,” Clay stammered.

  Luke stared openmouthed down the endless row of dentists, whirring drills, and screaming, crying patients.

  “Please stop!” a little girl shrieked in the chair closest to us. She struggled to push away her dentist. But he leaned closer, lowering his drill. “It hurts! It hurts!” she wailed. “Stop!”

  The boy in the next chair was sobbing at the top of his lungs. “Rinse!” his dentist screamed into his face. “I said rinse!”

  I raised my eyes from the poor, crying kid to the dentist—and uttered a startled gasp. The dentist really was a monster!

  They all were!

  They all had hairy, dripping snouts. Yellow fangs curled out from blubbery purple mouths. Pointed ears poked up from the thick black fur that tumbled down over their round, glowing eyes.

  They gripped their drills in huge, hairy paws. Lowered their bulky bodies over their screaming, helpless patients.

  “You broke my tooth!” a boy wailed halfway down the long row of chairs. “You broke it!”

  “Owwwwwww! Help me—somebody!” Another cry, from nearby. “He’s drilling my tongue!”

  I turned my eyes away, swallowing hard. My stomach churned.

  “Follow me, please!” the nurse repeated, shouting over the cries and screams and the shrill roar of the drills. “Your Monster Dentist is ready for you now.”

  “No way!” Clay and I cried in unison.

  “We’re out of here!” Luke declared.

  I spun to the door. Pulled the handle.

  The door didn’t budge.

  Was it just stuck?

  I tugged the handle harder.

  No. The door was locked.

  Clay pounded frantically on the door with his fist. “Let us out! Hey—let us out!”

  “No exit,” the nurse said sternly.

  She motioned with her clipboard—and three big, white-uniformed monsters came lumbering toward us. “These guards will take you to your dentists. Good luck.”

  “No—please!” I pleaded.

  “We changed our minds!” Luke cried.

  “Isn’t this supposed to be a game?” Clay wailed.

  The guards grabbed us roughly in their fur-covered paws. We twisted and squirmed. But they were too strong for us. They dragged us down the long row of screaming, crying kids.

  “You broke all my teeth!” a boy wailed.

  “Help me! Help me!” a girl cried as the Monster Dentist lowered his drill to her face. She clamped her mouth shut and twisted her head away from him.

  “Open up—or I’ll drill through your lips!” the dentist growled.

  I turned back, searching for Derek and Margo. Where were they? Did they follow us in? were they hiding somewhere, taping all this?

  Weren’t they going to help get us out of here?

  “No. Please—” I begged as the guard strapped me into a dentist chair near the end of the row. Water gurgled into the white spit sink beside me. I glanced down and saw dark bloodstains on the side of the sink.

  “Ohhh—please—” I moaned.

  A Monster Dentist popped up beside me. He looked like all the others. He grunted through his dripping snout and snapped his curled fangs together.

  “Let me go!” I pleaded. “I don’t want to do this!”

  “Don’t worry,” he growled. His booming voice seemed to come from somewhere deep inside him. “I’m a painless dentist.”

  “Huh? Painless?”

  He nodded. “Yes. This won’t hurt me one bit!”

  He reached over my head for the drill.

  “A happy tooth is a happy tooth!” he bellowed. “I’ll drill some big holes and see how happy your teeth are!”

  “No—no! Please!” I begged.

  But he pushed a button. The drill roared to life. Andwitha clumsy, lurching move, he lowered it to my mouth.

  m Above his snout, the dentist’s eyes flashed with excitement. His thick purple lips curled up in an evil grin.

  The whirring drill whistled over my face. Closer … Closer …

  I opened my mouth in a shrill scream.

  Then I shot up both fists, frantically trying to push the monster away.

  My fists made a THUNK sound against his chest.

  Gasping for breath, I stared up at him, squirming, twisting, trying to free myself from the heavy leather strap that held me in the chair.

  He bent forward again.

  I shot my fists up as hard as I could. Another loud THUNK.

  His chest is solid, I realized. Hard as … wood!

  He uttered a growl from deep inside his chest and slowly lowered the whirring drill again.

  I shoved my hands against his face.

  “Hey!”

  Wood?

  Smooth wood. Not skin.

  He’s made of wood, I realized. He’s some kind of robot!

  This isn’t real! I told myself. The Monster Dentists aren’t real.

  But what about the screams? The wails and terri
fied cries of the kids? Are they real?

  I didn’t have time to find out. Growling angrily, the robot dentist lowered the drill.

  I ducked under it, then shoved it away with both hands.

  The dentist leaned over me, eyes wide, mouth curled down in an ugly snarl.

  With a cry, I grabbed his snout. Grabbed it and twisted it.

  His eyes shut. His shoulders slumped.

  His hand let go of the drill. His arms lowered themselves stiffly to his sides. His whole body rocked for a moment, then stood still.

  Hanging above me, the drill stopped whistling.

  I stared up at the dentist, struggling to catch my breath, to slow my pounding heart. He shut down, I realized. The snout must be a turn-off switch.

  I shook my head hard, as if trying to force away the wails and cries of kids and the whistle of drills.

  “Robots,” I murmured out loud. “Robots.”

  My hands shook so hard, it took forever to unhook the strap that held me down. I slid out of the chair and lurched forward on trembling legs.

  “Luke? Clay? Where are you?” My voice came out weak and shrill. I knew they couldn’t hear me over the noise.

  I staggered a few steps down the row of chairs. And saw Luke across from me. He had both hands pressed over his face, but I recognized him from his hair.

  A Monster Dentist bent over him, drill in hand, roaring, “I’ll drill your lips! I’ll drill your lips!”

  “No, you won’t!” I cried. I dove forward. Grabbed the hairy snout—and twisted. The dentist let out a sound like air escaping a tire, lowered his head and arms, and didn’t move.

  “Luke—it’s okay!” I cried. I had to pry his hands from his face. He stared at me, blinking, swallowing hard.

  “The dentists—they’re all robots!” I cried.

  “I knew that!” he replied.

  Typical.

  “Of course they’re robots,” he said. “You didn’t think they were real—did you?”

  What a liar! If he knew they were robots, why was he covering his face like that?

  I wanted to switch the dentist back on and let him drill on Luke for a while. But instead, I unhooked the strap and tugged Luke out of the chair.

  We found Clay a few chairs down. His glasses had fallen into his lap. His eyes were shut tight. His face was drenched in sweat.

  I switched off his dentist. Luke shook Clay hard, as if waking him up. “It’s okay,” he told his friend. “It’s not real.”

  Clay opened his eyes and stared at us as if he didn’t recognize us. Luke and I both pulled him from the chair.

  I searched frantically for an exit. I couldn’t stand listening to the screams and cries for one more second!

  were they real? were the screaming kids all robots too?

  I didn’t care.

  I spotted a back door across the room, half-hidden by a gray curtain. The three of us raced toward it. We slid past the curtain, pushed the door open, and bolted out.

  “Whoa!” I cried out as I nearly ran into Derek and Margo.

  “Excellent!” Derek cried, patting his tiny camcorder.

  “That was awesome!” Margo declared. “You kids were great. We got the whole thing on tape from that window over there.” She pointed.

  “But—but—” I sputtered.

  “We could have been wrecked!” Clay wailed. “Those dentists … all of our teeth …” He shuddered.

  I shut my eyes, held my breath, and counted to ten. “Calm, Lizzy,” I instructed myself. “Be calm …”

  “It was kind of funny,” Luke declared. “I knew those dentists were fake.”

  “You did not!” I cried angrily. “You were just as scared as Clay and me.”

  “No way!” Luke insisted.

  “I think the kids were all robots too,” Derek said, frowning. “So far, everything has been fake. That’s not good for the show.”

  “You’re right,” Margo agreed. “We want to prove that something terrible is going on here—right? We want to expose how dangerous this park is. So, we need to find some real horror.”

  I swallowed hard. “That was real enough,” I murmured, pointing back to the dentist office.

  Two Horrors strolled by, carrying brooms, their green tails swinging behind them. Derek and Margo quickly hid their camcorders behind their backs.

  “I think we should … rest for a while,” Clay suggested shakily. He took off his glasses and mopped his sweaty forehead with the sleeve of his T-shirt.

  “Real horror,” Derek muttered, ignoring him. “Yes. We need to find some real horror. You kids have been resting for too long!” He laughed.

  No one else joined in.

  “Hey, I’m just trying to cheer you up,” Derek grinned. “I want all three of you to survive this place. I really do.” He rubbed his chin. “Well … maybe two out of three!”

  Margo shoved him. “You’re not funny, Derek. Can’t you see? They don’t appreciate your sick jokes.”

  Derek’s grin faded. “We do need to find something really dangerous,” he murmured. “Or else we don’t have a story.”

  “Hey—how about that place?” Margo cried.

  I turned and squinted up at the tall, narrow building across from us, stretching high over the park. Then I read the sign on its gate.

  “Oh, no. No way!” I cried.

  Luke went running up to the building entrance. “Stop right there!” I called, chasing after him. “We’re not doing this. No way!”

  He read the sign out loud: “Elevator Shaft Ride. World’s Fastest Free Fall. It’s a Scream. Drop in Anytime.”

  I grabbed Luke’s shoulders with both hands and started to march him away. “But it sounds cool!” he protested.

  “Not cool. No way I’m going to go falling down an elevator shaft,” I told him.

  “Can’t we get something to eat?” Clay whined.

  Luke waved a fist in front of Clay’s face. “How about a knuckle sandwich?” he grinned.

  “Luke, that’s so lame,” I said. “Don’t you ever get tired of saying dumb things like that?”

  “No,” he replied.

  “Time is passing,” Derek said, checking his watch. “We need to find something really dangerous.”

  “Hey—there’s a food cart,” Clay cried.

  I turned and saw a short female Horror in a purple apron pushing a small purple cart. The three of us headed over to it. But I stopped when I read the words painted in bright yellow on the side: CARAMEL HEADS.

  “What is that?” I cried.

  The Horror motioned to the cart. “Shrunken heads on a stick,” she replied, “covered in caramel.”

  “Yuck.” I felt my stomach churn.

  “The outside is very sweet,” the Horror told us. “The head inside is kind of sour. Except for the eyeballs.”

  She held one out to us. It looked like a caramel apple. Except beneath the thick, gooey layer of brown caramel, I could see two closed eyes and the bump of a nose.

  Clay groaned. I covered my mouth.

  “That head—it isn’t real, right?” Luke asked.

  “Right,” the Horror answered. And then she burst out laughing. “We would never use real heads here in HorrorLand—would we?” she asked sarcastically.

  She raised the stick toward us. “How many do you want? One for each of you? Or more? You know, two heads are better than one.” She laughed again.

  We didn’t laugh. I squinted at the caramel-covered head. At the closed eyes, the ears poking through the brown goo … the lips …

  And then I let out a gasp as the lips parted. Through the layer of caramel, I saw the mouth open. Saw it move. Saw the tiny lips silently form the words: “Help … me …”

  “We don’t want any!” The scream burst from my mouth.

  I spun around searching for the Stranges. were they taping this? Did they see the lips move on the shrunken head?

  No. They were gone. They had vanished again.

  The Horror pushed her cart aw
ay, chuckling to herself, her tail wagging behind her.

  Clay grabbed my arm, his face pale, his chin quivering. “Lizzy, did you see that? Was that real?” he whispered.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. We’ve got to find Derek and Margo. They disappeared again, and we don’t know what they want us to do next.”

  “Maybe they went up ahead,” Luke suggested. He began half skipping, half dancing down the path.

  “Luke—wait up!” I called after him. “We’re supposed to stick together.”

  We made our way past the dark towers of Dracula’s Castle and then something called the Insect Garden. I could hear loud buzzing and snapping sounds on the other side of the tall hedge. I shivered. I really didn’t want to see what was over there.

  The path curved around to a narrow, slow moving river. “Check it out!” Luke cried, pointing to a bunch of small wooden crafts bobbing in the water. “The coffin ride is still here. Remember that?”

  I read the sign: COFFIN CRUISE. A RELAXING FLOAT TO THE GRAVE.

  “Of course I remember that horrible ride!” I exclaimed. Last summer, our whole family had floated down the river in coffins. A slow, relaxing ride—until the lids slammed shut on us, and we discovered the coffins were filled with spiders.

  “I’m never going back on that,” Clay declared. “Never!”

  “Where are the Stranges?” I asked impatiently. “Why do they keep disappearing all the time? It really isn’t fair.”

  “Yeah. They promised they’d watch us,” Clay agreed.

  We followed the path up from the river. Now we were walking in the shadow of an endless brick wall. Tall trees rose up behind the wall, blocking the sunlight.

  The air grew colder. I didn’t see anyone else around here.

  “I-I don’t think Derek and Margo came this way,” I stammered. “I think we’ve walked too far. We should turn back.”

  “Let’s just see what’s up ahead,” Luke insisted. He was walking backwards, doing a hopping dance step.

  And he backed right into a huge, hulking Horror, who appeared out of nowhere.

  “Hey!” Luke cried out in surprise. He stumbled away from the Horror.

  The Horror glared at us sternly. He was a mountain—at least eight feet tall! His green arms were bare under his purple uniform, showing off biceps as big as volleyballs!

  “I—I think we’re lost,” I told him.