Who Let the Ghosts Out?

by R. L. Stine

  “You didn't help me,” Phears snapped. “I didn't get Nicky and Tara—did I! They went invisible. So now you're going to help me again. Where are they? They're here with you now, aren't they, Max. Make them appear. Do it—now!”

  In the gray mist that swirled around him, I suddenly could see his eyes. Solid white eyes, white as snow, staring coldly.

  And I realized Phears wasn't staring at me. He had lowered his gaze to my hand.

  “You're wearing the wishing ring, Max,” he said, floating closer inside his dark cloud. “That proves you're hiding Nicky and Tara from me.”

  My throat tightened. I couldn't breathe. Panic swept over my body. I glanced around frantically. “Nicky? Tara? Are you here?” I whispered. “Help me!”

  No reply. Where did they go?

  “Nicky? Tara?”

  A shadowy hand reached out from the fog. “I'll take the ring, Max. It will help me capture your two ghost friends. You won't be needing it— since you'll be slowly, slowly dissolving inside the roach's stomach.”

  The giant cockroach burped again. Its fat black legs danced on the stage floor as if it was eager to start eating.

  Phears' hand grabbed for the glowing red ring.

  I jerked it away from him.

  Wishing ring? Did he say wishing ring?

  Did it grant wishes? Could I wish Phears away?

  I raised the ring close to my face. It glowed brightly, like a Christmas light. I could feel its warmth radiate against my face.

  I took a deep breath. I held the ring close.

  I shut my eyes. “I wish I was home safe and sound!” I shouted.

  Did I get my wish?

  24

  I OPENED MY EYES. No.

  Phears still floated over me.

  “Nice try, Max,” he said. “But we both wished at the same time.”

  I gazed at the ring. Its glow was a little dimmer. Our wishes must have canceled each other out.

  I took a deep breath and wished again. “I wish Phears would disappear forever!”

  “I wish Nicky and Tara's parents were in my grasp!” Phears shouted at the same time.

  The red glow of the ring dimmed to purple.

  I didn't wait. Holding the ring to my mouth, I tried again.

  “I wish for Phears to be trapped inside that giant cockroach!”

  “I wish for Max to dissolve inside the cock-roach's belly while he's still alive!” Phears made a wish too.

  Again, we canceled each other out. In a panic, I stared at the ring. Dead. No color at all.

  Phears tossed back his head and laughed. “It's all used up, Max. Now you are helpless.”

  Phears motioned to the giant cockroach. Its antennae began to rotate wildly. It bobbed its head as it began to lumber toward me. Its mouth pulled open and again I saw the disgusting blob of yellow saliva that roaches use to dissolve their food.

  “Nicky? Tara? Can you help me?” I whispered.

  I glanced all around as the cockroach swung its huge armored body toward me. And I saw someone peeking out from the curtain. A girl standing at the control panel at the side of the stage.

  Traci!

  She came back! Was she worried about me?

  The cockroach raised its head and sniffed me. A sickening sour aroma fumed from its open mouth.

  I tried to run. But Phears used his powers to hold me in place.

  Twisting around, I watched Traci. Her mouth was wide with horror. Her hands were pressed to her face. She stood beside the spotlight switch.

  Yes. The spotlight switch.

  And I had an idea. A last, desperate idea. Could I give Phears a surprise? Could I startle him long enough for me to scramble away?

  I twisted my body. Waved to Traci. I motioned for her to pull the spotlight switch.

  She stared back at me, frozen in horror.

  I motioned again. Please, Traci. Please understand. Turn on the spotlight. Pull the switch!

  No.

  She didn't get it.

  She stared back at me, hands pressed to her cheeks.

  Goodbye, Traci, I thought.

  The saliva bubbled in the cockroach's open mouth.

  I'm cockroach food, I realized.

  That's how I'll end up—cockroach food.

  25

  I GRITTED MY TEETH and waited for the insect to suck me into its drooling mouth.

  And then a flash of bright light forced my eyes shut.

  I stumbled backward, away from the giant cockroach.

  The light swept over the stage.

  I heard Phears let out a shrill scream. I opened my eyes and saw him holding up his hands, struggling to shield himself from the bright circle of white light.

  Yes! Traci had come through! She had switched on the spotlight.

  I thought maybe the bright light would startle Phears and give me time to escape. I had no idea the light would hurt him!

  But under the spotlight, the thick fog quickly burned away. Phears stood exposed, his solid white eyes blind with panic.

  Unable to escape the light, Phears started to shrink. He shrank until he was the size of a rabbit, then as small as a mouse. Tinier …tinier…until he was a speck on the stage floor.

  An ant. Phears had shrunk to the size of an ant. And as I stared in amazement, Joey wobbled over. The pigeon dropped its head, snapped open its beak, and swallowed Phears.

  Joey stared up at me, head tilted, as if expecting another treat. Then he turned, flapped his wings, and flew out the auditorium window—with Phears inside his belly.

  Was Phears gone for good?

  The giant cockroach had vanished. I ran to the side of the stage. “Thank you, Traci!” I shouted.

  But she had run away again from the terrifying scene. How could I ever explain it to her?

  I didn't have time to think about that. I ran out the back door of the auditorium and jogged toward home. I had to tell Tara and Nicky what had happened!

  I saw a group of trick-or-treaters parading up a driveway across the street. On the next block, kids in ghost and mummy costumes were comparing the candy in their bags. Normal kids. Having a normal Halloween.

  I burst into the house and ran up to the safety of my room. I felt like climbing into bed and pulling the covers up over my head.

  But there were Nicky and Tara, sitting crosslegged on the floor, dozens of candy bars spread out between them.

  “Where were you?” I screamed. “Where were you?”

  “Trick-or-treating,” Nicky said calmly, holding up a bag full of candy.

  “Wow. It's so easy to get a lot of candy when you're invisible!” Tara said, chewing on a half-eaten Snickers bar. “We just slip into a house and take handfuls!”

  “But—but—but—” I sputtered.

  “How did the rest of your act go?” Nicky asked. He had a chocolate smear on his chin.

  “Go? It didn't go!” I screamed. “How could you go trick-or-treating when I needed your help?”

  Tara shrugged. “Easy. The act was bombing. We couldn't stand to watch you flop like that.”

  “But—Phears showed up!” I cried. “He's still after you. He tried to feed me to a cockroach. But Traci shined bright light on him and he shrank. Then Joey ate him and—and—”

  I had to stop to catch my breath.

  Tara shook her head sadly. “He'll be back. We haven't seen the last of him.”

  Nicky shuddered. “We won't be safe until we find our parents.”

  Tara finished her candy bar and reached for a box of Junior Mints. “But see, Max? You can be brave when you get the chance. That's so totally awesome. I'm proud of you.” She slapped me on the back with a chocolatey hand.

  “But—but—” I sounded like a motorboat starting up. “But—but—”

  Nicky shoved away some candy and motioned for me to sit down beside him. “Aren't you glad we're haunting you?” he asked, smiling. “Doesn't it feel good to be a hero?”

  I dropped down between them. “Shut up and pass the Milky
Ways,” I said.

  TO BE CONTINUED.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Robert Lawrence Stine's scary stories have made him one of the bestselling children's authors in history. “Kids like to be scared!” he says, and he has proved it by selling more than 300 million books. R.L. teamed up with Parachute Press to create Fear Street, the first and number one bestselling young adult horror series. He then went on to launch Goosebumps, the creepy bestselling series that gave kids chills all over the world and made Goosebumps the number one children's series of all time (The Guinness Book of Records).

  R.L. Stine lives in Manhattan with his wife, Jane, their son, Matthew, and their dog, Nadine. He says he has never seen a ghost—but he's still looking!

  Check out this sneak preview of the second book in R.L. Stine's Mostly Ghostly:

  Have You Met My Ghoulfriend?

  NICKY AND TARA STILL live in Max's bedroom, and while they've found some clues, they still don't know what happened to their parents. Meanwhile, the evil ghost Phears is still desperate to get his hands on Nicky and Tara, and to pressure Max into turning them over, Phears brings a Berserker Ghoul to inhabit Max's body—and make Max go berserk when he least expects it! But Max, Nicky, and Tara aren't giving in to Phears. They have a few tricks up their sleeves— like one very talkative ghost cat, who's taken up residence inside the tunnel to the ghost world. …

  I FLEW INTO MAX'S room inside a white moth.

  I found a hole in the screen and slid right through. I'm used to slipping through small spaces. When you are an Animal Traveler, you can burrow deep or fly high. You can sail away from your enemies and come swooping back to take them by surprise.

  At times, I have made myself tiny enough to ride inside a mosquito. I enjoyed the darting, shooting, jumping ride. I have soared inside broad-winged hawks. And I have crept slowly but steadily inside earthworms.

  I love to move because I was kept still and in prison for so long. Captured by the Roland parents, the so-called scientists. My last ghostly breath taken from me. Held in a prison that was neither smoke nor spirit nor mirror nor air.

  Phears. Phears.

  My name struck terror in all who met me.

  Until the Rolands took my breath and made me even less than a ghost.

  But I escaped. My name is Phears and I had to escape. And I had to help the others float free of their prison. And now we ghosts are out. And I sail through the night inside this fluttering white insect.

  Tentacles quivering. The air electric. Because I am so close … so close to finding the Rolands and having my revenge.

  The two Roland kids—Nicky and Tara—will help me. Once I capture them, the parents will come to their rescue. And I shall have the parents, too. And then I shall destroy all four of them forever.

  These are my thoughts as I sail through the night on this unsteady steed. And, of course, I am not alone. I have brought the jabbering Berserker Ghoul with me. What a jolly fellow he is.

  He cannot sit still. He drums his hands and taps his feet and shuffles his legs up and down. A bony thing—with his shiny red top hat, red gloves, and striped jacket—rib bones poking out. What is he dressed for? Halloween? Ha, ha.

  He was a normal ghoul once, rising up from his grave, staggering through the night, terrorizing people as a ghoul must do. What made him go berserk?

  Was it the time I pushed away the shadows and showed him my face? He screamed for hours after that. I don't think he ever recovered.

  And now he cannot keep still. He bobs his head and tugs his ears. And jabbers nonsense without stop.

  Just the right fellow to teach this boy Max the difference between master and slave. Once my Berserker friend is inside Max, the boy will find himself out of control—and more terrified than any living creature before him.

  I wouldn't want this drooling idiot inside me!

  After a day or so of this ghoul's company, Max will come to me. “Please, Mr. Phears,” he will whimper. “Please ask me to do anything for you, and I gladly will.”

  Ha, ha.

  He's sleeping so soundly, burrowed in his bed, covers nestled over his head.

  I flutter over his hair—so close I can hear his soft breaths.

  Softly, softly.

  Yes, go, my Berserker friend. Go do your ghoulish work. Yes, slide out of here, hopping and popping and flapping your gums. And try to stay in one place, will you?

  I know you Berserkers like to hop from person to person, too jittery, too jumpy, to stay in one place. But I need you to stay inside Max. Stay long enough for Max to come begging on his knees to me. Then you may go jumping and jabbering on your way.

  Do you hear me?

  Can you hear me over your insane jabbering and bopping and bumping?

  Go, ghoul friend. Yes, ease yourself inside his head, through the open ear canal. Yes. Yes.

  Go inside and be yourself. Control the boy when he least expects it.

  Go berserk.

  And now, with twice as much room inside, I guide my white-winged carrier back to the window. Back out into the cool night we flutter together. Into the darkness, where I am most comfortable.

  Poor Max.

  What a terrifying surprise when he wakes up.

  Excerpt from Have You Met My Ghoulfriend?

  Copyright © 2004 by Parachute Publishing, L.L.C.

  Published by

  Delacorte Press

  an imprint of

  Random House Children's Books

  a division of Random House, Inc.

  New York

  Copyright © 2004 by Parachute Publishing, L.L.C.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or

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  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Stine, R.L.

  Who let the ghosts out? / R.L. Stine.

  p. cm.—(Mostly ghostly)

  Summary: A boy suddenly finds himself haunted by the friendly ghosts

  of two children while being pursued by an evil being.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-54926-6

  [1. Ghosts—Fiction. 2. Horror stories.] I. Title.

  PZ7.S86037Wh 2004

  [Fic]—dc22

  2003026133

  August 2004

  v3.0