07 - Fright Knight

by R. L. Stine

  Like moonlight glinting off armor.

  With one finger on my lips, I signaled Carly to keep quiet. We tiptoed through the shadows side by side. A cobweb trailed across my face. I brushed the sticky web aside. And caught my breath.

  Sir Thomas! There he was.

  He sat on a full-size model horse, right in the middle of the conservatory. The high glass dome arched above him.

  I blinked.

  For a second I thought I saw him move.

  I blinked again.

  I took a step closer.

  “Awesome!” My voice echoed in the big empty room.

  A high ladder stood next to the model horse. The ladder Dad always used to set up his exhibits.

  “See? You were scared for nothing.” I knew I didn’t have to whisper anymore. “Dad and Mr. Spellman must have done it. They must have moved the knight in here when we were doing our homework.”

  I noticed then that they had also moved most of Dad’s medieval weapons in here, too. Almost his entire collection. About a dozen lances hung on the wall to the left of the knight. And on the wall to the right of the knight I saw a display of big metal swords and shields.

  Propped up in the corner, I spotted Dad’s fake suit of armor, too. He’d bought it for a display in the museum and it had all the details of real armor. It even looked real from a distance. But close up you could tell it was made of cheap, thin tin.

  I’d always loved that fake armor. But now that we had the real thing, it didn’t look like much.

  “Looks like they brought a lot of stuff in here,” I said.

  Carly wrinkled her nose. “Why?”

  “Why?” A Carly question if I ever heard one. “Probably because there’s more room in here. More people will have a chance to see the armor and all the cool weapons a knight like Sir Thomas needed to fight his enemies.”

  I stared up at Sir Thomas again. “He’s awesome, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah, awesome,” she echoed halfheartedly.

  Seated on the horse, Sir Thomas appeared ready to fight. He carried a long, pointy lance in one hand. His other hand wrapped around the horse’s reins. In that same hand he also grasped a shield.

  The ghostly white moonlight flickered off Sir Thomas’ helmet. It sparkled against his lance. It made the armor glow with a powerful green light. Glow from the inside.

  It was the coolest thing I ever saw in my whole, entire life. I wanted to get as close as I could. Really, really close.

  I walked toward him.

  “Mike, what are you doing?”

  Over my shoulder I saw Carly take a step back. “Dad might not like it if you—”

  “Dad won’t mind.”

  Oh, yes, he would, a little voice inside said. He’d mind big-time. You’ll be grounded for the rest of your life if he catches you messing around with that armor.

  But I’m not going to mess with it, I answered the voice. I only want a closer look. Just one tiny peek. I’ve got to see where that green glow is coming from. Dad will understand.

  “It’s truly excellent, isn’t it?”

  I don’t know if Carly answered me or not. I wasn’t listening.

  All of a sudden I had to touch the armor.

  I stood really close now. I stretched up as far as I could. That didn’t help much. Sir Thomas sat on his horse. And the horse stood on a platform. Like I said, I’m sort of short.

  Hey, but that’s what ladders are made for, right? I grabbed the ladder and started climbing up.

  “Mike, you’re not going to—”

  I ignored Carly. I ignored everything. Everything but the weird feeling that traveled down my arms. Tingling in my fingers.

  I climbed to the very top of the ladder.

  From up there the armor looked better than ever. I caught my breath. I studied the fancy designs on the breastplate and helmet. There were even a couple dents. I figured Sir Thomas got those in battle.

  I gazed at the visor. The part the knight raised so he could eat and talk.

  I gazed into the slit above the visor. The space where the knight looked out. It looked dark and empty.

  I hooked my left arm around one side of the ladder. Then I leaned out as far as I could. My fingers brushed Sir Thomas’ helmet.

  The tingling got stronger.

  “See. Nothing to worry about.” I glanced down. Carly stared up at me. Her eyes were round. Her mouth hung open. “I bet I can even get a look inside.”

  Stretching out really far, I hooked my finger around the bottom of Sir Thomas’ visor. I nudged it open.

  The visor squeaked.

  It didn’t squeak like the museum floor squeaked. That was a friendly kind of squeak.

  This squeak made my bones vibrate. It made my teeth ache.

  The ladder wobbled. I steadied myself.

  Before I even realized it, I stood face-to-face with the helmet.

  Nothing to see. Nothing but a blackness. Blacker than the night.

  I leaned over farther and peered inside. Blackness. Thick, dense.

  I caught a whiff of something putrid—a pile of old garbage that had been around awhile. Say, a few centuries.

  I felt sick to my stomach.

  Then I heard a long groan. Like someone moaning from the other end of a long tunnel.

  The sound grew louder. It filled my head. It drowned out the noisy whoosh of the blood rushing in my ears.

  I leaned back and felt the ladder wobble under me. My entire body broke out in gooseflesh.

  Something was moving. Inside the helmet. Something was coming. A black shadow!

  The shrieking and moaning grew louder. And louder.

  The armor trembled. Then shook violently.

  With a ghastly cry that chilled my bones, the shadow rose up out of the armor.

  I was done for.

  6

  The shadow rose out of the armor and came straight at me.

  With my eyes squeezed shut, I heard a creepy sound of fleshy wings flapping around my head and neck.

  I swatted wildly at the air. Then it flew around my head and dived at me from the other side.

  I tried to duck. Too late.

  The biggest, blackest, ugliest bat that ever lived flew right into my face.

  I stared into two terrifying glowing red eyes. The bat’s horrid mouth opened, baring sharp fangs. I saw its wicked claws flex. Ready—ready to dig into me.

  I swung my arms over my head as the bat swooped at me again. Big, creepy wings flapped against my ear.

  “Whoa!” I yelped. I lost my balance and fell backward off the ladder.

  I landed on the floor with a thud. I felt like a bug hitting a car windshield.

  “Are you all right?” I looked up and saw Carly standing over me. She offered me a hand up.

  With a loud grunt I pulled myself to my feet. All my bones seemed to be in one piece. But just barely. I’d lost one of my slippers, and my pajamas had twisted all around my legs.

  “Have a nice flight?” Carly asked sweetly.

  “Very funny.” I dusted off the seat of my pajamas. I spotted my missing slipper over by Sir Thomas’ horse. I grabbed it and slipped it on. “That bat had to weigh at least fifty pounds. Its wings stretched out about a yard.”

  Carly made a face. “Bats! Yuck! Where did it go? Is it still here?” She covered her head and stared at the ceiling.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “It just flew away.”

  Carly glanced at the ceiling again. “I don’t know about you, but I’m going back to bed.”

  “Go ahead.” I stepped back to let her by.

  I watched Carly quickly walk out of the conservatory. She disappeared into the shadows on the far side of the room. A minute later I heard the sounds of her footsteps as she climbed the stairs.

  I sighed. It was late. I had school tomorrow. First thing in the morning I had to give my report. I hoped I didn’t nod out right in the middle of it.

  Staying up suddenly seemed like a huge waste of time.

&nb
sp; Had I found a ghost?

  No.

  All I found was my stupid sister.

  And a bat.

  I sighed. Pretty disappointing. I headed for the door. My slippers scuffed across the floor.

  But about halfway across the room I thought I saw something. Out of the corner of my eye.

  Something moving.

  Metal flashing in the moonlight.

  I stopped and squinted through the shadows at the armor.

  Wasn’t Sir Thomas staring in the other direction the last time I looked at him?

  I shook my head. I rubbed my eyes.

  No. Couldn’t be.

  Right?

  The question tapped at my brain. My insides suddenly quivered. I decided to get out of the conservatory. Fast.

  My racing footsteps slapped against the tile floor.

  My heart pounded against my ribs.

  At the door I quickly glanced back at Sir Thomas.

  He was right where he belonged.

  I let out a deep breath and started the long trek to the stairs.

  I crept through the kitchen, finding my way by the light of the moon. A cold, spooky glow flowed through the windows.

  The moonlight shimmered against a huge, old broadsword hanging on the wall. Next to the sword hung a set of heavy chains. The links looked like teeth.

  Hungry teeth. Grinning at me.

  I couldn’t help it. I shivered.

  Get a grip, I told myself. You’re acting like a dweeb. A total nerd. This is the Museum of History’s Mysteries, right? It’s home, right? What are you scared of?

  I didn’t stop to answer myself. I just walked a little faster.

  The coffin room looked exactly the way we had left it.

  Or did it?

  The lid on Dracula’s coffin… I didn’t remember it being open like that. Just a tiny crack.

  I didn’t stop to check it out. I dashed into the mummy room.

  I saw good old Charlie. Right where he always stood. His eyes still stared their mummy stare. His arms still jutted out straight. Mummy fingers dangling.

  Reaching for me as I rushed past.

  A flutter in the pit of my stomach told me not to think about that.

  But by then it was too late.

  My head whirled. I took a deep breath.

  And choked on a mouthful of mummy dust.

  I needed fresh air. Fast.

  I bolted out of the mummy room. Up ahead I saw the doors that led out of the museum. The doors in the parlor. I sprinted toward them, coughing and gasping.

  Air. I needed air.

  The doors are the big, double kind. The kind they have at school. They have those metal handles that you press down to open. I grabbed the door handle and pressed.

  The door didn’t move.

  I tried again. I pushed against it with my whole body.

  Nothing. The door didn’t budge an inch.

  I dragged my hand over the wall. I felt the light switch and flicked on the overhead lights. Something told me I wasn’t going to like what I saw.

  My breath caught in my throat. It was a knight’s sword.

  Someone had jammed it right through both sets of door handles.

  I threw myself against the doors and pulled and pulled at the sword. It was heavy. It didn’t budge.

  I was trapped!

  7

  “Trapped.”

  I heard my voice echo in the emptiness all around me.

  I stood up again and wrapped both my hands around the cold, hard handle of the sword. I took a deep breath and pulled again.

  Harder and harder.

  My arms ached and blood pounded in my head.

  No use.

  Panting, I beat the sword with my fists.

  Nothing.

  I backed up and gave the door and the sword a ninja kick.

  My foot throbbed with pain. But the sword didn’t even jiggle.

  Trapped.

  This time the word echoed inside my head.

  I had to backtrack. Through the entire museum. Through the mummy room. The coffin room. And the creepy kitchen.

  I had to go through the conservatory. I had to reach the back door at the far side of that room. Or else… I stopped myself from thinking that far. I didn’t want to think about the evil knight. Not now.

  “I can’t be trapped. I can’t be trapped. I can’t be trapped.”

  I chanted the words out loud as I ran through the dark shadowy rooms.

  “How could I be trapped? Carly went out that way. Just a couple minutes ago. There’s no way anyone could have stuck that sword in the door since then. I would have seen them. Sure. Yeah. That’s right. No way. I would have seen them for sure.”

  I kept walking and talking out loud to myself. And I hung on to my blue marble pendant. I’m not sure why. But I felt better when I was holding it. Braver.

  I stopped at the conservatory door. I opened it a crack and peeked inside.

  Sir Thomas was still there—sitting on his horse.

  Just like when I left him.

  I didn’t breathe a sigh of relief. I don’t think I breathed at all. The whole time. I held my breath as I brushed under Dad’s weird plants. I held my breath as I hurried past the ladder.

  When I got all the way past Sir Thomas and nothing happened, I finally let the breath go. I didn’t slow down, but the knots in my stomach loosened up a little.

  The back door loomed closer. And closer. I walked faster. And faster. It came closer still.

  Almost in reach now.

  Then I heard a strange sound.

  A creaking sound.

  Shivers raced up my arms and legs. My knees wobbled.

  I told myself, “Keep walking. Do not turn around and look.”

  The creaking grew louder.

  But I had to look. I couldn’t stop myself.

  I turned very slowly.

  What I saw made me freeze in place. My heart stopped.

  The suit of armor.

  Standing right behind me. Towering over me.

  How did it get off the horse?

  I took a gulp of air and forced myself to look up.

  Through the slit above the visor I saw a fiery red glow. When my gaze met that glow, it grew brighter. Hotter. Redder.

  Then I knew.

  Sir Thomas. He was in there.

  The armor creaked as he took a step closer.

  I felt myself stumbling backward. The room spun.

  “I… I… I…” I sputtered, trying to stay on my feet. Never taking my gaze off him for a second.

  Then with the scraping sound of metal against metal, Sir Thomas raised one hand. He pointed right at me.

  I stopped sputtering. My mouth hung open.

  “You!” His deep voice boomed from inside the suit of armor. “You will not escape me this time, evil wizard!”

  8

  “Me? A wizard?” I choked out the words.

  “Wait a second,” I sputtered. “I’m just a sixth grader at Shadyside Middle School. Ask anybody. I’m no wizard.”

  “Save your wizard’s lies for fools!” Sir Thomas’ words boomed all around me.

  The glass dome above us rattled and groaned, as if blasted by a huge gust of wind.

  “It is your doing, wicked one. You trapped me in this metal tomb with your evil magic.”

  “Me?” I shook from head to toe. My pendant swung back and forth across my chest. The blue smoke inside it swirled.

  “You’ve got me mixed up with somebody else. Honest. I’ve never even seen you before today, Sir Thomas. Sir Thomas, sir, I mean—” I added. Grownups usually like it when you act all polite. I figured it was worth a try.

  No such luck.

  “Vile one!” he roared. The fire behind Sir Thomas’ visor grew blood-red and flickered. He tilted his head to take a closer look at me.

  The next second I heard a furious snarl. Moving way faster than a guy should have been able to move wearing a couple hundred pounds of armor, Sir Thomas rai
sed his lance. He lunged at me. He held the point of it right at my throat. “Prepare to die, hateful wizard!”

  The needle-sharp lance pricked my skin. The metal felt fiery hot.

  He wanted to kill me.

  Slice me in half.

  Chop me up in little pieces. And then even smaller pieces after that.

  I didn’t stand a chance against him.

  I swallowed hard and took a giant step back.

  Sir Thomas rattled forward. He snarled again. The flames behind his visor flickered and hissed.

  “Did you think you could fool me by taking the shape of a young boy?” Sir Thomas roared at me. “I fought you when you turned yourself into a dragon. I fought you when you changed yourself into a wall of fire. And now…”

  The knight dug the lance tip into my skin. “Now, wizard, I will have my revenge!”

  I tried to scream for help. I tried to scream for Dad. Or even Carly.

  I croaked pathetically.

  Sir Thomas dipped his head and made a deep metallic grinding sound.

  I took a couple of steps back.

  The knight took a couple steps forward. He tossed his lance away. It clattered to the floor.

  Great! He finally believes me, I thought.

  Then he stepped even closer.

  “I have waited centuries for this moment, wizard. I want to see your evil eyes as you gasp for your dying breath,” his deep voice bellowed.

  I stared up at him, frozen with fear. I couldn’t move. I backed toward a corner. No place to hide. And I knew I’d never get past him alive.

  Dad had set up a whole bunch of medieval weapons around the horse. Too bad for me. Sir Thomas had his pick.

  “Should I use the broadsword?” Sir Thomas grabbed for it. “Or the mace?” He picked up the mace in his other hand.

  He swiped the big, heavy sword through the air. In the moonlight the sharp blade gave off an icy glint.

  Then he held out the mace at arm’s length.

  Sir Thomas’ mace looked like a big club. Studded with spikes all around the top. Metal spikes filed to needle-sharp points.

  They sparked at me. They flashed.

  I cringed. I imagined what they would feel like biting into my skin.

  “Chivalry!” I screamed the word. I forced myself to sound brave.

  “You call yourself a knight? A real knight wouldn’t attack an unarmed person. A real knight wouldn’t go against the code of chivalry. Mr. Spellman said so.”