by R. L. Stine
“I had the good luck for a long time,” Hannah said, wiping her wet cheeks with both hands. “Remember when I had so much good luck? Then it ran out. The skull went dark. And he forced me—he forced me to pass the skull on to you!”
I stared at her in disbelief. “But who is he?” I cried. “How can he do this?”
“Haven’t you guessed?” the hooded figure boomed. The red eyes glowed like two angry suns. “Haven’t you figured it out yet, Luke? I am the Fate Master. I decide who has good luck and who has bad!”
“No,” I whispered. “That’s … crazy.”
“It’s the truth,” Hannah said, her voice breaking. “He controls me. And now you.”
“Luke,” the evil figure whispered, lowering himself toward me. “Did you really think you could have all that good luck without paying for it?”
“I didn’t want to give the skull to you,” Hannah whispered, holding on to my arm. “I gave you a chance to hand it back to me, remember? Remember during my game? I asked if you had seen it?”
I nodded sadly, feeling my face grow hot.
“I knew you had it. Why didn’t you give it back then?” Hannah demanded. “I gave you a chance to return it. I didn’t want you to keep it.”
“Too late for that now!” the Fate Master rasped. “Now you are BOTH mine!”
“No way!” I protested. “I don’t believe any of this! This can’t be happening! It—it’s some kind of bad joke!”
“It’s not a joke,” Hannah whispered. “Look at me.” She pointed to her red-blotched face, her bandaged foot, the wheelchair.
“No!” I insisted. “It won’t happen to me! I won’t let it! I’ll—I’ll make my own luck!”
The bulky, black coat shook as the Fate Master uttered a hoarse laugh. It sounded more like dry coughing than laughter. “Young man, do you really think you can go up against FATE? I control EVERYTHING that happens! Do you really think you can defy FATE?”
“I don’t care what you say!” I screamed. “I’m not going to be some kind of slave! You can’t control me! You can’t!”
The Fate Master sighed. The red eyes faded inside the hood. “Do I really have to prove myself to you? Okay. So be it.”
He leaned closer. So close that I could see into the hood. I could see that he had no face! Just two glowing eyes floating in blackness.
“Luke—that concussion you had in the gym?” he rasped. “I’m afraid it’s much worse than you thought. Feel your ears.”
“Huh?” My hands shot up to my ears. I felt wetness.
Warm wetness.
I lowered my hands. My fingers dripped with blood.
My ears were bleeding!
I felt the warm blood pour down my earlobes, trickle down the sides of my face.
Frantically I pressed the palms of my hands against my ears.
“That won’t stop the bleeding, Luke,” the Fate Master whispered. “That blood won’t clot. It’s just going to keep pouring out. Bad luck, I’m afraid. Very bad luck.”
“No—please!” I pleaded. “Make it stop!”
The eyes flared. “Do you believe in me now? Do you believe that you belong to me?”
“Okay,” I said. “Okay. I believe you.”
“Your fate is in my hands—both of you. You must pay for the good luck you had. You must suffer bad luck now—”
“No—please!” I begged. “I need more time. Things are just starting to go right for me. The basketball team … my animation … the swim team … I’ll do anything. I need more time!”
“NO MORE TIME!” The hoarse rasp echoed off the tile walls. Angry flames shot out from the blackness of the hood.
“But—” I started, shrinking back beside Hannah.
“I control you!” the Fate Master boomed. “I decide your luck from now on! Do you want me to go easy on the two of you? DO you?”
“Y-yes,” I stammered. “I’ll do anything. Anything!”
The Fate Master was silent for a long moment. The eyes faded, as if retreating into the distance, then glowed brightly again. “If you want me to go easy on you both,” he said finally, “here’s what you have to do….”
“Pass the skull on to another,” the Fate Master ordered.
“Huh? You—you want me to give it to someone else?” I stammered.
The eyes sparked beneath the hood. “Pass it to that big kid, the one called Stretch. I’ve had my eye on him. I will give him good luck for two months. Then I will claim him as mine.”
“No, I can’t do that!” I protested. “It isn’t right! It isn’t—”
The Fate Master uttered a furious growl. “Then you will suffer bad luck your whole life. You and everyone in your family!”
I shivered in fear. My mind spun. I felt the warm blood start to trickle from my ears again.
Could I do it? Could I trap Stretch the way I had been trapped?
I felt Hannah tug my arm. “You have to do it, Luke,” she whispered. “It’s our only chance. Besides, Stretch has been asking for it—hasn’t he? He’s not a friend of yours. He’s an enemy. Stretch has been asking for it all year.”
True. Stretch wasn’t my friend. But could I be responsible for ruining Stretch’s life? For turning him over to the Fate Master?
Hannah gazed up at me from the wheelchair with pleading eyes. “Do it,” she whispered. “Save us, Luke. Do it.”
I turned to the Fate Master. “Okay,” I choked out. “I’ll do it.”
The eyes flashed, from red to sunlight yellow. The big coat opened and appeared to fly up. It raised itself over me like giant bat wings. Floated over me … then floated down.
I felt myself covered in a heavy darkness.
I couldn’t move. It spread over me … blacker … blacker.
I felt so cold. So cold and lost. As if I had been buried, buried deep in the cold, cold ground.
And then I blinked and saw pinpoints of light. Flickering white lights that grew brighter, so bright I had to squint.
It took me a while to realize I was back in the gym. Back on the gym floor. A crowd huddled around me. Tight expressions, worried faces.
Someone leaned over me. A face came into focus. Coach Bendix stared down at me, the whistle hanging from his neck.
“Coach—?” I tried to speak, but the word came out a whisper.
“Don’t move, Luke,” he said softly. “You’ve had a concussion, but you’re going to be okay.”
“A concussion?”
“Lie still,” he instructed. “An ambulance is on the way.”
A concussion?
It didn’t happen! I realized.
The hooded figure with the glowing eyes. The Fate Master stepping out of locker 13. Taking away my good luck. Ordering me to pass the skull to Stretch.
It didn’t happen!
It was a dream. A nightmare caused by my concussion.
I jumped to my feet. The floor swayed beneath me. The bleachers appeared to tilt to one side, then the other.
I saw Hannah in her wheelchair at the side of the bleachers.
She’s still in the gym! I told myself happily. We never left the gym. It didn’t happen. None of it happened.
I felt so happy. So free!
Before I even realized it, I was running. Running to the door.
“Luke! Hey—Luke! Stop!” I heard Coach Bendix calling to me.
And then I was out the gym doors. And racing through the dark, empty hallways. Running full speed.
So happy. And so eager to get away from there! Away from the school. Away from my nightmare.
Did I stop at my locker?
I must have stopped there because I had my jacket on when I burst outside. Into the frosty night air. I saw a tiny sliver of a moon high in a purple-black sky. I stopped for a second to breathe in the cold, fresh air.
Then I ran across the teachers’ parking lot to the bike rack. I’d ridden my bike to school. And now I planned to put the pedal to the metal—to race all the way home.
“Yes!”
So happy. I felt so happy, I could have danced all the way home.
I jumped on my bike. Grabbed the handlebars.
Whoa. Something wrong. A scraping sound.
I climbed off and glanced down. A flat tire. No. Two flat tires.
“Oh, wow,” I murmured. How did that happen?
No big deal. I’ll get the bike tomorrow, I decided. I started to jog across the parking lot, heading to the street. My sneaker felt loose. I squatted down to tie the shoe lace—and it ripped between my hands.
No problem, I told myself. I have plenty of shoelaces at home. I started walking, turned onto the sidewalk, crossed the street. Behind me I could hear shouts and cheers coming from the gym. I guessed that the game had started up again.
“Go, Stretch!” I murmured.
As I made my way down the next block it began to rain. Softly at first. But the wind picked up, and then the rain started coming down in sheets.
I zipped my jacket and leaned into the wind. But the rain drove me back, wave after wave of freezing water.
I heard a crackling sound nearby—and saw jagged, white lightning streak across the front yard across the street. A deafening boom of thunder shook the ground.
I pressed forward. Trees creaked and nearly bent sideways in the torrents of wind and rain. I couldn’t move. I ducked under a broad-trunked tree for safety.
But a loud crack of lightning sent a tree branch crashing to my feet.
“Ohh!” I cried out. A close call!
I jumped over the fallen branch. Sharp pieces of the limb scratched my arm as I struggled to race away. Another jagged bolt of lightning crackled a few feet in front of me, sizzling over the wet grass.
Squinting through the downpour, I saw smoke snake over the lawn. The grass was burned black where the lightning had spread.
The wind shoved me backward. Sheet after sheet of rain washed over me. I choked. Struggled to breathe.
And then … just beyond the rain … just beyond the heavy waves of dark water … I saw two glowing lights … two red eyes … like dark headlights … Two evil eyes, moving with me, watching me.
The Fate Master.
It wasn’t a dream. I suddenly knew that my flat tires—the storm—the lightning, the pounding rain—it was all a show. A show of strength.
I staggered up my driveway. Slipped on the wet gravel. Sprawled facedown on the soaked stones.
“Nooooo …”
I struggled to my feet. Stumbled onto the front stoop.
A deafening, shattering crash made me spin around. I saw one of the oak trees in front of the house split in half. It appeared to move in slow motion. One half shivered but stayed upright. The other half of the broad, old tree came crashing onto the roof of the house.
Windows shattered. Roof tiles came sliding down.
I covered my head with one hand. And pushed the doorbell. Frantically pushed the bell. “Let me in! Mom! Dad!” I pounded on the front door with both fists.
Where were they?
The lights were all on. Why didn’t they open the door?
A crash of thunder made me jump and cry out. Above the front stoop rainwater poured like a waterfall over the sides of the gutters. Waves of rain rattled the living room window and battered the bricks of the front wall.
“Let me in!” I screamed over another roar of thunder. I pounded the front door until my fist ached.
Then I heard a window slide open. I turned to our neighbor’s house. Through the curtains of rain, I saw Mrs. Gillis poke her head out the bedroom window. She shouted something. But I couldn’t hear her over the roar of rain.
“They’re not home!” I finally heard her shout. “They had to go to the hospital, Luke.”
“What? What did you say?” My heart jumped. Had I heard correctly?
“It’s your dad. He fell down the stairs. He’s okay. But they took him to the emergency room.”
“No!” I cried. I beat my fists against the door. “No! No! No!”
The Fate Master was putting on a show for me. He was showing me who was boss. Giving me a little taste of what the rest of my life could be like.
“Okay!” I shouted, cupping my hands around my mouth. Water pounded me, washed over me, battered me against the house. “Okay—you win!” I screamed. “I’ll do it! I’ll do whatever you say!”
And I did.
The next morning I gave the skull to Stretch.
I found Stretch at his locker before school started. Giving him the yellow skull was the easiest thing in the world.
Stretch was leaning into his locker, searching the shelf for something. His backpack stood open on the floor. I pulled the skull from my jeans pocket—and dropped it into his backpack.
He didn’t see anything. He didn’t even know he had it.
“Hey, Stretch—how’s it going?” I asked, trying to sound calm, natural. As if I hadn’t just done something terrible to him. Something that would ruin his life forever.
“Yo—hey, Champ!” He slapped me a hard high five, so hard my hand stung. “How’s your head, man? It looks as ugly as ever!” He laughed.
I stared at him. “My head?”
“That was a nasty collision,” he said. “Your head must be hard as a rock. You feeling okay?”
“Yeah. Not bad,” I replied.
Stretch snickered. “Well, thanks for letting me get some playing time.” He started to close up his backpack.
I stared at the backpack, picturing the skull inside it. The skull I had passed on to Stretch. The tiny, red eyes were probably glowing again. Stretch was going to have a lot of good luck for a while. But then …
“Maybe you and I can practice together later,” Stretch said, slamming his locker shut. “I can give you some more pointers. Make you look like you know what you’re doing!”
“Yeah. Maybe,” I said.
Stretch’s expression turned serious. “Actually, you’re not bad, man,” he said. “I mean it. You are so improved. I mean, you’re almost pretty good! Really.”
I don’t believe this! I thought. Stretch is actually paying me a compliment.
I shrugged. “It was just luck,” I muttered.
Just luck. Ha ha.
“No way!” Stretch insisted. “Luck had nothing to do with it, man. It was hard work and skill. No kidding. It isn’t luck. You’re good!”
I swallowed hard. I suddenly felt like a total creep.
Stretch was being so nice to me. And what had I done to him? I just gave him a life of bad luck, a life of slavery to the Fate Master.
“Whoa. Forgot my science notebook,” Stretch groaned. He dropped his backpack to the floor and turned to unlock his locker.
I stared down at the backpack, feeling dizzy, feeling sick.
What am I going to do? I asked myself. What am I going to do?
My bad luck continued all day.
I answered the wrong questions on my algebra test and got an F. Miss Wakely warned me that I’d have to do extra work if I didn’t want to fail the course.
At lunch the milk in my milk carton was lumpy and sour. I didn’t notice until I had gulped down a big mouthful. Then I nearly puked my guts up in front of everyone.
After lunch I started to comb my hair in the boys’ room—and a huge clump came out on the comb. I gasped in horror and tugged out another clump of hair.
I’m going to lose all my hair! I realized.
As I hurried out of the bathroom, I caught my shirt on a nail and ripped one sleeve off. I was so upset, I bumped into Miss Wakely from behind. Her coffee cup flew out of her hand, and scalding hot coffee splashed all over her.
I found Hannah after school. She came rolling slowly down the hall in her wheelchair. Her foot was still bandaged. Her face was still covered in red blotches. And I saw that one of her eyes was swollen shut.
“Hannah—I’ve got to talk to you!” I cried.
“Did you pass it on?” she asked in a loud whisper.
“Huh?”
“I’ve lost my voice,�
�� she whispered. “Did you pass the skull on to Stretch? We’ve got to change our luck. I can barely see. My skin itches like crazy. I can barely talk. I—I can’t go on like this, Luke.”
“I’ve got to find the Fate Master,” I said.
Hannah grabbed my torn shirtsleeve. “You’ve got to do what he said. You’ve got to obey him. It’s our only chance.”
“How do I find him?” I asked.
“He will find you,” Hannah whispered. “He appears in places of bad luck. You know—broken mirrors, wherever the number thirteen is written.”
“Come with me,” I said. I led the way to my locker. I waved to some guys heading to the pool for swim team practice. I wanted to be with them. But this was more important.
“We’ve got to talk to the Fate Master,” I told Hannah. “Maybe he’ll come through my locker again.”
Hannah groaned in pain as she wheeled herself behind me. “My foot hurts so much!” she whispered.
“He promised to end the bad luck,” I said.
I turned the combination lock, then pulled open my locker door. A burst of sour air choked the hall. I gagged, then held my breath.
“Look—” Hannah choked out. She pointed to the floor of the locker.
It was littered with dead birds. A pile of brown-and-gray sparrows, all dead and decaying.
“He left us a present,” I murmured. “Where is he? Is he going to appear?”
We didn’t have to wait long.
A few moments later I saw the glow of the red eyes at the back of the locker. And then the dark figure stepped over the pile of dead birds and floated out, hunched beneath the black hood.
“Have you done what I asked?” he rasped, the fiery eyes burning into mine. “Have you given me a new slave?”
“Yes,” I replied, avoiding his stare. “That was our deal, right? And now will you stop torturing us? Will you end our bad luck as you promised?”
The hood bobbed up and down. “No,” he said softly.
Hannah and I both uttered cries of protest.
“Did you really think you could make a deal with the Fate Master?” he boomed. The open coat floated up like bat wings. “I don’t make bargains with anyone! I don’t make promises! You will take whatever Fate dishes out!”
