by R. L. Stine
I gripped the back of the desk chair with both hands. “What do you think we should do?” I asked.
All three of them began talking at once.
“Right from the start, I said we have to call the police,” Eden said. “I know it’s hard for you, Hope.”
“We all know how hard it is,” Angel agreed. “But he’s killed two kids. And he’s following us everywhere.”
“He’ll kill again,” Jasmine offered in a tiny voice. “We don’t want to be responsible for that.”
“She’s right,” Eden said heatedly. “If someone else dies because of Darryl, it will be our fault. We will be just as guilty as he is. Because we didn’t turn him in.”
I swallowed hard. They all agreed on what we should do. They all agreed that we should tell the police what we knew.
But could I do it?
Could I really go to the phone and turn in the person I cared the most about in the whole world?
“Maybe I could talk to him,” I suggested, one last desperate attempt to save him. “Maybe I could convince him to go get the help he needs.”
Eden sighed. “They don’t call you Hope for nothing,” she said, shaking her head.
“He won’t listen to you,” Angel said softly. “You know he won’t, Hope. He never does. If you try to talk to him, he’ll only get angry again.”
“You remember the last time you tried to help him,” Eden added. “He yelled at you—didn’t he? He called you horrible names.”
Yes. Yes, he did.
Her words brought it back. I saw Darryl’s anger again. Heard him say those ugly things to me. Saw him staring up at my dorm window with such hatred on his face. And felt the hurt all over again.
“If you try to help him,” Eden continued. “There’s no telling what he will do.”
“He’s so dangerous,” Jasmine murmured. She shuddered.
I heard a sound in the hall. With a gasp, I turned to the door, expecting Darryl to come bursting in.
But it was just someone walking past our room.
I took a deep breath. My mouth suddenly felt so dry. “Okay,” I whispered. “We can’t live in fear like this. Wondering what horrible thing Darryl will do next. Who he will hurt. Who he will kill.”
I gripped the back of the chair tighter, so tight my hands ached. “Okay. Okay. Okay. Okay,” I chanted. “We have to call the police. We have to end this nightmare.”
I raised my eyes to the phone. It was only a few feet away on the desktop. But I realized I couldn’t get over there.
I couldn’t be the one to turn Darryl in.
“Eden—will you make the call?” I asked.
She nodded grimly. “Okay.” She climbed up from her chair and strode quickly to the phone. “Okay, Hope. I’ll do it.”
She picked up the receiver.
And someone pounded hard on our door.
chapter 31
Jasmine let out a shriek. Eden gripped the receiver and spun to the door. I jumped to my feet.
“Who—who is it?” I tried to call, but my voice came out in a choked whisper.
“It isn’t Darryl,” Eden said, frowning. “He never knocks. He just barges in.”
She was right. I took a deep breath and crossed to the door. I pulled it open a crack.
And stared at Ollie, the night guard.
“Is there a problem?” I asked.
“A young man left this,” Ollie replied. He held up a jacket. Angel’s jacket. “Is it yours? He said a blond girl left it in his car.”
So Angel had been with some guy in a car, I realized. Probably making out in a parking lot, knowing Angel.
“It’s my roommate’s jacket.” I took the jacket from Ollie. “Thanks a lot. I’ll give it to her,” I said.
He nodded his bald head and started back to the elevator.
I closed the door behind me and turned back to my roommates. Eden was already talking into the phone.
I tossed the jacket to Angel. “You forgot this,” I told her.
“Sshhhh.” Eden raised a finger to her lips. “I’m talking to a police sergeant.”
I stepped up beside her, my heart suddenly pounding.
Were we doing the right thing?
Yes. Finally. We were finally doing what we should have done a long time ago.
Poor Darryl …
My poor baby …
“Yes. I’m in room 13-B,” Eden was telling the officer. “Roommates? Yes. I have three roommates.” She told him our names.
“The boy’s name is Darryl Hoode,” Eden continued. She glanced up at me. “He lives downstairs in Fear Hall,” she reported. “Yes. On the boys’ floor.”
I heard a rattling at the back window. The wind shaking the fire escape railings.
“Please hurry,” Eden was saying to the officer. “We—we don’t know where Darryl is right now. But he’s really dangerous. Please—we’re very scared. All four of us—we’re so scared.”
She hung up the phone and turned back to us. Her chin was trembling. Her face pale.
“I—I did it,” she uttered.
“What did he say?” I demanded breathlessly. “Did he say they were sending someone?”
Eden nodded. “He said to lock our room door,” she reported. “He said not to open it for anyone—until the officers arrive.”
“But—it doesn’t lock!” Jasmine cried. “The lock is broken!”
“Don’t panic. They’ll be here in ten minutes,” Eden replied. “We should be okay, Jasmine. We should—”
She stopped with her mouth open as we heard more rattling at the back window.
We all turned—and saw Darryl climb in from the fire escape.
“What’s up?” he asked.
chapter 32
“ Darryl—what were you doing out there?” I demanded. I tried to sound calm. Normal. I didn’t want to raise his suspicions.
A strange grin spread over his face. “Never mind that,” he replied. “What were you doing in here?”
“I—I don’t know what you mean,” I stammered.
He took a few steps into the room. And turned to Eden. “Hi, Eden,” he said with exaggerated warmth. “How’s it going?”
Eden shrank back as Darryl moved toward her. “What’s your problem?” she demanded.
“Like to talk on the phone?” Darryl asked. His smile faded. His eyes narrowed angrily.
“Leave Eden alone, Darryl,” I warned. I tried to sound firm, but my voice trembled.
“Like to talk on the phone, Eden?” Darryl repeated, moving steadily toward her. Forcing her back. Back to the window. “Like to tell stories about me on the phone?”
“Darryl—wait!” Eden cried.
“Did you think I didn’t hear you?” Darryl screamed, suddenly in a rage. “Did you think I wasn’t out there the whole time? Did you think I wouldn’t know what you were trying to do?”
“Darryl—get back!” I cried. “Don’t touch Eden! We all decided—”
He let out a furious roar.
Eden raised her hands to shield herself.
“How could you?” Darryl roared. “How could you turn me in to the police?”
“Darryl—we decided we had no choice,” I choked out. “We can’t let you—”
I didn’t get the rest of my words out.
Instead, I opened my mouth in a scream as Darryl grabbed Eden.
“Let her go! Let her go!” Angel shrieked.
Eden opened her mouth to scream.
But Darryl clamped a hand over it.
His other arm wrapped around her waist. He held her from behind.
“Let her go! Don’t do it! Don’t!” I wailed.
His eyes were wild. His mouth opened in a roar. He lifted Eden off the floor.
Lifted her. Lifted her.
Lifted her above his head with both hands as she squirmed and thrashed her arms and legs.
“Let her go!”
“Put her down!”
He lifted her higher. Held her above his head
.
And then brought her down hard against his upraised knee.
I heard a sickening crack.
“Ohhhhh.” A moan of pain escaped Eden’s throat. He cracked her back, I realized.
He cracked her. Cracked her in two.
Her eyes rolled up in her head. Her head dropped and bounced against the floor.
And then, with a loud groan, Darryl lifted her again.
This time Eden didn’t squirm or struggle. This time she hung limply in his arms.
He lifted her again. Lifted her. Her arms drooping down. Her mouth open. Eyes shut.
Lifted her. Lifted her.
And heaved her out the open window.
A second later, I heard a thud from the pavement below. Thirteen stories below.
“Nooooooo.” A wail of horror burst from my lungs.
Jasmine was crying. Angel stared open-mouthed, frozen in place.
“Nooooooooo!”
I dove for Darryl. “You killed her! You killed Eden!” I shrieked.
I grabbed the front of his flannel shirt.
He glared at me, hunched over, panting like an animal. Like a wild animal.
Wild with fury, I tugged at his shirt with both hands. I reached up to scratch his face.
Missed.
He ducked away. Pulled free.
“You killed Eden! You killed Eden!” I cried.
Still panting, he nodded. His hair wild about his face. His eyes bulging. Sweat rolling off his forehead.
I dove for him again. I wanted to hurt him. I wanted to kill him.
He dodged away. Leaped onto the windowsill. Out the window.
Dropped onto the fire escape.
And vanished.
“He killed her. He killed her …” I repeated.
Jasmine cried, hands covering her face. Angel still hadn’t moved.
A knock on the door.
And a voice called in, “Police!”
chapter 33
“Oh—!”
The officer pounded on the door.
I turned to the window. The room spun. The floor tilted up.
I saw Eden’s horrified face again. And again I heard the sickening crack when Darryl snapped her back.
Jasmine and Angel were on their feet now, huddled together, arms around each other.
Their faces blurred in front of me. The room faded and threatened to go dark.
I’m going to faint, I realized.
“No—!”
I forced myself to remain standing.
I tried to move to the door—but something held me back.
Some kind of invisible force kept me from moving.
My fear? The horror I’d just seen?
I must have been in shock.
“Open up! Police!” the voice called in.
“Quick—” I whispered to Angel and Jasmine. “Quick—”
I started to the window.
I didn’t know what I was doing. I had to be in shock. In total shock.
“Quick—” I repeated.
I lifted my knees onto the windowsill. And stared out at the night.
All a blur. The sky. The stars. The dark campus buildings all around.
A hazy blur.
I stumbled out onto the fire escape. “Hurry,” I whispered.
And my two roommates joined me on the narrow, metal stairs.
We gripped the railing. Pressed our backs against the brick wall.
And listened as the door opened.
I peeked in and saw two blue-uniformed cops. Followed by Melanie.
They raised their eyes to the open window. I pulled back before they saw me.
My heart pounding, I pressed back against the wall and struggled to hear what they said.
“We got a call from a girl named Eden,” the cop was telling Melanie.
“Huh?” I heard Melanie react with surprise. “What did she say her name was?”
“Eden,” the cop repeated.
“Eden? I don’t know any girl named Eden,” Melanie replied. “Are you sure you got the name right?”
The policeman was silent for a moment. Then he said, “Yeah. Eden. She said she and her three roommates lived in 13-B.”
Silence again.
Then Melanie said, “Roommates? She said she lived in 13-B and had roommates?”
“That’s right,” the policeman grunted.
“A girl named Hope lives in here, Officer,” Melanie told him. “But, look—it’s a single room. One bed—see? Hope doesn’t have any roommates. She lives in here by herself.”
chapter 34
I heard more footsteps. More voices.
I peeked into the room and saw Margie and Mary in the room. All three girls were talking at once. The two police officers had to ask them to be quiet.
“One at a time,” a cop said impatiently. I saw him check his little writing pad. “What about Angel and Jasmine?” he asked the three girls.
They all shook their heads. “I don’t know any girls with those names,” Melanie said.
“Hope is kind of weird,” Margie added. “She always seemed to be having loud arguments. Sometimes we’d hear her talking till late at night. But she’s always alone in here.”
“She works in a restaurant,” Mary offered. “Campus Corner, off Pine Street. She’s a waitress there.And once I saw her sitting in a booth, arguing with herself. Finally, the boss had to call her to the kitchen.”
“Hmmmmm.” I watched the cop write something on his pad.
“I saw Hope in the cafeteria the other day,” Margie chimed in. “She was sitting there talking to herself. It was pretty weird.”
“I’ve asked her if she’s okay several times,” Melanie told the cop. “I mean, I thought maybe she needed help. But she never wanted to talk to me.”
Margie glanced toward the window. I pulled my head back.
“What about this boy, Darryl?” the other cop asked the three M’s.
“Huh? Darryl?” Melanie replied. “I don’t know anyone named Darryl. Does he go to Ivy State?”
“We were told he lives downstairs,” the cop said. “On the boys’ floor.”
Margie and Mary let out startled laughs. “There aren’t any boys in this dorm!” Mary cried.
“There is no boys’ floor,” Melanie agreed. “It’s an all-girls dorm.”
“Oh, wow!” Mary cried. “Do you think Hope made those other kids up? Did she imagine them?”
“Sounds like we have a loony,” one of the cops said. “A dangerous loony.”
“Maybe we’ve got a multiple personality here,” his partner replied. “Do you think this Hope is all four girls? And Darryl too?”
“Maybe,” the cop said softly. “The question is—did Hope cut up those two boys? Those boys aren’t imaginary. Those two boys were real. And they were murdered by someone real.”
“We’d better find her—fast,” his partner said.
“I knew Hope was crazy!” I heard Margie exclaim.
“But can she really be a killer?” Melanie cried.
I didn’t want to hear anymore.
I felt so angry—so furious—I wanted to dive back into the room and strangle Melanie and her two roommates with my bare hands.
How could they talk about me that way? How could they?
I pressed my back against the brick wall and turned to Angel and Jasmine. “They won’t find us—will they, girls?” I whispered.
They both shook their heads.
“And by the time the police find us,” I continued, “Melanie and her roommates will be dead. They will pay for calling us crazy. They will pay—right?”
“Right,” Jasmine whispered.
“Right,” Angel agreed.
“Right, Darryl?” I whispered. “We’ll pay the three M’s back—right, Darryl?”
He appeared beside me. He always appears when I want him to.
That’s one reason I love him so much.
When I need him, I only have to think about him—and he magically appe
ars.
“We’ll pay them back—right, Darryl?” I repeated.
“Right,” Darryl whispered in my ear.
And then I heard a sharp cry from inside the room. And a policeman shouted, “There she is! On the fire escape! Catch her!”
TO BE CONTINUED …
DON’T MISS THE TERRIFYING ENDING, IN
FEAR HALL: THE CONCLUSION
About the Author
“Where do you get your ideas?”
That’s the question that R.L. Stine is asked most often. “I don’t know where my ideas come from,” he says. “But I do know that I have a lot more scary stories in my mind that I can’t wait to write.”
So far, he has written over a hundred mysteries and thrillers for young people, all of them bestsellers.
Bob grew up in Columbus, Ohio. Today he lives in an apartment near Central Park in New York City with his wife, Jane, and son, Matt.
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At the stroke of midnight…you are on Fear Street. Your footsteps echo as you walk past rows of houses. Houses with blank windows that seem to stare down at you. That seem to know your deepest, darkest secrets. Confide those secrets here…
Find out more about yourself, your friendships, your loves and your fears.
