My Friends Call Me Monster

by R. L. Stine

  I shook my head hard. This was too disturbing.

  It was like I couldn’t take it all in. I recognized all the words she said, but they didn’t make sense to me.

  She couldn’t be saying what I thought she was saying.

  Was Mrs. Hardesty an alien? From another planet? Sent here by some alien commander with a name no human could pronounce?

  And was she planning a war — monsters against humans?

  No. Please — no.

  If it was true, I was the only human on Earth who knew about it. The only human on Earth who could stop her.

  But, whoa. Wait. I’m big and I’m strong — but I’m just a twelve-year-old kid.

  If I was going to stop Mrs. Hardesty and her monster war, I was gonna need HELP. A lot of help!

  I stared into the room. The monsters had closed in on Mrs. Hardesty. One of them was licking her face. Another green scaly beast was licking the back of her hand. Two of them had their front legs around her shoulders and were hugging her.

  And she kept cooing to them and saying, “My babies … my babies.”

  I had to get away from there. I had to tell someone. Everyone!

  The main thing was to escape this house without being caught.

  I turned. I gripped the banister. I started to climb the stairs.

  I made it up three steps — and then I couldn’t help it. I SNEEZED.

  Caught.

  There was no way she didn’t hear that.

  It wasn’t a quiet sneeze. I never learned how to sneeze quietly.

  I swallowed hard and held my breath. I stood there with one foot on one step, the other beneath it on a lower step.

  I froze there — every muscle tensed — and shut my eyes. And waited for her to call me down there.

  But no.

  I heard her gooey-sweet voice. “Does one of my babies have a cold?”

  I let my breath out slowly. She thought one of the monsters had sneezed!

  I turned back to the room. Through the open door, I saw Mrs. Hardesty walk to a refrigerator against the back wall. “Are my babies hungry? Are you ready for din-din?”

  This got them all excited. They began huffing and puffing and jumping up and down. Two of them got into a head-butting contest. Each time their heads collided, it made a wet smack.

  Mrs. Hardesty pulled open the fridge door and leaned inside. She came out with big hunks of red, raw meat.

  She tossed the meat chunks high in the air. They landed on the floor. The excited monsters dove headfirst for them.

  They scrambled for the meat. Head-butted and shoved and tackled each other out of the way.

  The smack of their bodies rang out over the sick gobbling and slurping. They sucked the meat chunks into their open mouths and swallowed them whole. Then they tossed back their heads, opened their mouths wide, and let out deafening, two- and three-minute burps.

  As the monsters devoured the meat, Mrs. Hardesty stepped to the side. She crossed her arms in front of her and watched. She had an adoring smile pasted on her face. She actually thought these slobbering, burping beasts were cute!

  A few minutes later, the meat was gone. The last monster finished his roaring burp. The basement room grew quiet.

  Mrs. Hardesty stepped forward. “Okay, my babies,” she said. “Listen up now. I want you to lay more eggs.”

  The creatures stood at attention, their eyes locked on her. A short chubby one made a gurgling noise and vomited up his meat onto the floor. He bent down and quickly ate it a second time.

  “Lay more eggs!” Mrs. H told them. “We will use some of them to hatch more babies. And I will feed some of the eggs to the kids at my school. Then to the whole town! And then — monsters rule! Monsters rule! Monsters rule!”

  Her chant got the monsters all psyched. They nodded their heads up and down. They danced as if getting ready for battle. A few of them did some more head-butting.

  “The Commander will be proud!” Mrs. Hardesty shouted, pumping a fist in the air. “We will take over this puny planet — or my name isn’t Hyborg-Xrxuz!”

  The monsters were pumped. They roared and hopped up and down.

  “Oh, wow,” I murmured. “Oh, wow.”

  Mrs. Hardesty wasn’t really Mrs. Hardesty. She had a weird alien name — because she was an alien!

  An alien who came to Earth to get rid of humans and make a home for these ugly monsters.

  I spun around and ran up the basement stairs as fast as I could. The monsters were making such a racket down there, I knew Mrs. H couldn’t hear me.

  My legs felt rubbery and weak. My heart was thumping in my chest.

  But I ran out the back door and kept running.

  I had to tell everyone. I had to warn everyone. We were all in danger.

  A horn honked and tires squealed as I ran across the street. I hadn’t even looked to see if anyone was coming. I heard the driver shout at me from his open window. But I didn’t stop.

  The houses and yards were a blur. I ran all the way home. Mrs. Hardesty’s cheer rang in my ears: “Monsters rule! Monsters rule!”

  I saw her pumping her fist in the air as the monsters bounced up and down. “Monsters rule! Monsters rule!”

  No way! I told myself.

  I burst in through the back door. Mom and Dad were standing in the kitchen. Dad was chopping onions at the table. His face was red, and tears rolled down his cheeks. Mom was stirring a pot on the stove.

  They turned when I came roaring in.

  “Michael, where have you been?” Dad asked through his tears.

  I struggled to catch my breath. “I was at Mrs. Hardesty’s,” I choked out. “Mom! Dad! She’s hatching big green monsters. She keeps them in her basement. She’s going to turn everyone in town into monsters!”

  Dad set down the onions. He blinked at me. “That’s pretty serious, Michael,” he said. “Let’s get the police over there and put an end to this!”

  Dad’s onion tears rolled down his cheeks, and he laughed.

  Mom laughed, too.

  I stood there still breathing hard, my legs trembling. I gritted my teeth and watched them laugh at me.

  “Michael, we know you don’t like your teacher,” Mom said finally. “And yes, I’ll admit she’s a little different….”

  “But there’s no point in making up crazy stories about her,” Dad said.

  Mom tapped me on the head with her long wooden spoon. “Good imagination,” she said.

  “Why don’t you sit down at your computer and write up that story?” Dad added. “Maybe you’re going to be a science fiction writer.”

  “Aaaaaagh!” I let out an angry cry. “It’s not science fiction!” I screamed. “It’s real!”

  I could feel myself start to lose it. I almost grabbed the spoon out of Mom’s hand and tossed it out the window.

  Almost. I caught myself just in time.

  I balled my hands into tight fists at my sides and stomped out of the kitchen.

  When those disgusting monsters and Mrs. H and her commander ran the world, it wouldn’t be so funny — would it?

  I stormed into my room and slammed the door behind me.

  I tossed my backpack onto the bed and started pacing furiously back and forth.

  Who would believe me?

  Would Daisy and DeWayne believe me? Maybe. But who cared? They couldn’t help.

  I needed to find somebody who could stop Mrs. Hardesty.

  Mr. Wong? Maybe. The town police? Maybe. The National Guard unit my cousin Brad is in? Maybe.

  But they wouldn’t believe me, either.

  No one would believe me — unless I had proof.

  I banged my forehead against the wall. I had my cell phone with me in the attic. Why didn’t I take pictures?

  Why?

  Now I knew what I had to do. I had to go back there and take good, clear pictures of those monsters. Then people would have to believe me.

  I shuddered.

  I had no choice. I was the only one in the w
orld who knew about Mrs. Hardesty’s plot. I was the only one who could stop her.

  I sat down at my computer. I IM’d Daisy and DeWayne. I asked them to come with me, back to Mrs. H’s house. I told them it was a total emergency.

  They both said no.

  DeWayne wrote:

  SOUNDS LIKE A BAD PLAN. NO WAY I’M EVER GOING ON HER BLOCK AGAIN.

  Daisy wrote a very short message:

  ALLERGIC TO GIANT EGGS. SORRY.

  Okay. Okay. I was on my own.

  “I can do this,” I told myself. “They don’t call me Monster for nothing.”

  * * *

  Saturday morning, I checked out the camera in my cell phone. I snapped some shots of Mom and Dad at breakfast, just to make sure it was working. Then I tucked it carefully into my jeans pocket.

  Mom and Dad hurried off to play their Saturday morning golf game.

  I hurried off to save the world.

  Mrs. Hardesty’s blue Civic wasn’t in her driveway. Was she away?

  I circled the house a few times to make sure.

  No signs of life. Nothing moving.

  I crept up close to the front and peered into the living room window. I saw a newspaper folded up on the couch. A coffee mug on the table beside it.

  No Mrs. Hardesty.

  I crossed my fingers. Maybe she was out shopping for more meat or something. I could just slip down to the basement. Take a bunch of photos. And leave.

  Maybe …

  I crept around to the back. I peeked into the kitchen window.

  “OH!”

  I uttered a cry and dropped to the ground.

  A green monster was standing in the kitchen — staring right out at me!

  I hunched below the window, squeezing myself into a tight ball. And waited for the creature to stick its head out the window. Or to come flying out the back door to grab me.

  But no.

  After a minute or so, I realized it probably hadn’t seen me. So I took a deep breath and pulled myself back up to the window.

  The monster stood over the stove. It had a long white spatula tucked in one claw. It was stirring something in a big frying pan.

  Eggs?

  I squinted through the window. Yes, it was cooking up a big pan of eggs.

  Now it had its back to me. I straightened up a little higher to see better.

  How did it escape from the basement?

  And how did it know how to cook?

  A thousand questions whirred through my mind. I shook them away and reached into my jeans for my phone. I raised the phone to the window and steadied it.

  No. No good. Too dark in the kitchen.

  I clicked the phone shut and shoved it back into my jeans pocket. I pressed my nose against the window. I watched the monster stir the eggs with the long spatula.

  And then the creature stuck out its other claw. It grabbed up a big hunk of egg and slid it into its mouth. It turned to the side. I could see the smile on its snout as it chewed.

  It chewed the eggs for a short while, then swallowed.

  And instantly, the monster began to change. Its whole shape wriggled and pulled in. Its green head shrunk and shifted — until it became a human head!

  In seconds, the monster transformed into Mrs. Hardesty!

  I gasped. I nearly hit my head on the window.

  Mrs. Hardesty was a monster, too!

  The eggs changed her back to her human body.

  If only I had taken a picture.

  If only Daisy and DeWayne had come with me. I’d have witnesses. I’d have proof.

  I watched Mrs. Hardesty reach into the pan. She picked up another chunk of scrambled egg. She took a big bite.

  In seconds, she stood there — a monster again!

  Another bite of egg. And she transformed back into Mrs. Hardesty.

  Wow! I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. But I realized how powerful those eggs were. They could turn you from a monster into a human and back again — in seconds.

  “No one will ever believe this!” I muttered to myself. And she planned to bring these eggs to school and feed them to everyone!

  I slid down to the ground. I sat with my back to the wall, trying to think. Trying to make a plan.

  How could I get pictures of this without being caught?

  Even with the pictures, would anyone believe the power of the eggs?

  I shook my head, trying to clear my brain.

  And the back door swung open. Mrs. Hardesty stepped out onto the stoop.

  “Michael!” she cried. “I thought I saw you. What are you doing here?”

  I struggled to my feet. “Uh … well …”

  Panic froze my brain.

  She stared at me, gripping the spatula tightly in one hand.

  “Uh … I needed help,” I said finally. “With a homework assignment. I … I thought maybe you could help me.”

  “On a Saturday morning?” she asked. “It’s very early.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “What was I thinking?” I started to walk away.

  “Come in, Michael,” Mrs. Hardesty said. “Don’t hurry away. You’re just in time. I want you to try my special eggs.”

  “Huh?” I gasped. No way!

  I almost blurted out, “I saw what they do!” But I stopped myself at the last second.

  “Come in, Michael.” She held the door open.

  “I can’t,” I said. “I’m late for … uh … I’m late for something.”

  Lame. How lame was that?

  “It will only take a second,” Mrs. Hardesty said. “It’s a new egg recipe. You’ll be the first to try it.”

  No, I won’t. I saw you try it!

  “I … I think I might be allergic to eggs,” I said.

  She laughed. “Not these eggs. These eggs are special.” Then her smile faded. “Michael, get in here,” she ordered.

  Before I knew it, I was sitting at her kitchen table.

  Her dark eyes flashed as she set a big plate of eggs down in front of me. “I’m so glad you stopped by,” she said.

  I gulped — and gazed down at the eggs. They were fluffy and bright yellow. They didn’t smell like eggs. They smelled kind of like hay and fertilizer. You know that smell when you drive past a farm in the summer?

  “I can’t,” I said. “I’m sorry. I had such a huge breakfast.” I started to stand up.

  But Mrs. Hardesty leaned over me, forcing me to sit back down. She took a fork and scooped a chunk of egg. Then she slid the fork into my mouth.

  “Eat up, Michael,” she said softly, her breath brushing my ear. “Delicious, right?”

  I didn’t want to swallow. But the egg slid down my tongue. It tasted like chalk. Very dry.

  My heart started to do a tap dance in my chest. My ears tingled.

  Mrs. Hardesty forced another forkful down my throat.

  I was terrified and angry at the same time. She tried to feed me more. I shoved her hand away. The eggs went flying across the table.

  Too late. Too late, I realized.

  I already felt strange. My whole body tingled. My skin felt rubbery. I shuddered.

  “You’ve been a lot of trouble, Michael,” Mrs. Hardesty said softly. She backed away. Her face was twisted in excitement.

  “You’ve been a lot of trouble to me — haven’t you?” she said. “But from now on, I think we’re going to get along just fine!”

  “Nooo —” I tried to cry out. But only a hoarse croak escaped my throat.

  I felt my arms shrinking, my hands folding into my wrists. I raised them — and groaned. My skin was green and covered in bumps. In place of fingers, I had claws.

  My stomach lurched. Strange sounds burst from my open mouth. I felt my face changing. I reached up and wrapped a claw around my long snout. A long, dry snake tongue whipped out of my mouth.

  I leaped up from the kitchen table. I jumped right out of my clothes. My chair went flying backward.

  I tried to run — and tripped over my jeans. My lizardy body
heaved in and out.

  I’m a MONSTER! I realized. It took only two little forkfuls — and I’m a MONSTER!

  I staggered back on my stubby legs. I felt sick. The room became a black-and-white blur. My tongue slid in and out.

  Mrs. Hardesty tossed back her head and laughed. “You look wonderful, Michael,” she said. She slapped my green bumpy back.

  “Unnnh unnnnnh.” I couldn’t make words.

  “You’re my little baby now,” Mrs. Hardesty said. “I’m going to keep you nice and safe with my other little babies. Won’t that be fun?”

  She dug her nails into my shoulders as she forced me down the basement stairs. Blocking my escape, she unlocked the door and pushed me in with the other monsters.

  “See you later, little babies,” she cooed. “Mama is going out to shop for supplies. I’m going to scramble up a big egg on Monday — big enough for the whole school!”

  She laughed a cold laugh. “Who said teachers don’t have fun!”

  She slammed the door. I heard the click of the lock.

  I spun away from the door and glanced around the room. Was there a window I could escape through? Another door?

  I had to get out of there and warn everyone. She was planning to turn the whole school into monsters on Monday!

  I shut my eyes, trying to think. Even if I escaped, how could I warn everyone? I couldn’t even speak. Besides, who would listen to a lizardy green monster?

  When I opened my eyes, I had a surprise. The other monsters had lined up. They stood in a straight line, staring at me.

  Their tongues flicked in and out. They lowered their heads, opened their jaws, and uttered low growls.

  Not friendly.

  I didn’t need any hints. I could see they weren’t happy about me.

  “Dudes, I’m on your side.” That’s what I wanted to say. Instead, it came out, “Urrrrrf urrrrrrf.”

  I started to back toward the door. But they moved quickly.

  They slid across the floor and formed a circle around me.

  I raised both front claws. I surrender.

  It didn’t impress them. The circle grew tighter as they closed in on me.

  Closer … closer …

  I was trapped in the middle. Nowhere to run.

  Their growls grew louder. And what was that snapping sound?