The Final Nightmare

by Rodman Philbrick

  I stared in surprise. It was Bobby’s attic room! The old-fashioned bedroom from a long time ago.

  The greenish light vanished and a sad gray light took its place. I stepped inside, bringing the iron bar with me. But as I looked around, the big door swung soundlessly shut behind me. I heard the sharp snick! of the lock.

  My stomach felt hollow. But my first worry was finding Sally. Then I’d work out how to get out of here.

  The room had no windows, just Bobby’s narrow little bed, battered toy chest, and rocking chair. Nothing else. No one else.

  The air had a heavy feel to it, like fear and unhappiness mixed together for a long time.

  I’d been here before, of course, and nothing good ever happened in this room. But the bed and chair were empty. There was nowhere for Sally to hide. I stared around me like I’d been struck stupid.

  I’d been so sure Sally would be here. Now what?

  Why did Bobby’s ghost want me up here?

  A tiny, far-off cry made the little hairs on my neck stand on end.

  It was a desolate, hopeless cry. The cry of a child who didn’t expect anyone to come.

  Slowly I turned around, holding my breath.

  17

  The closet!

  I found myself staring at a low door cut in the sloping wall.

  That’s where the cry was coming from.

  I rushed to the door and grabbed the small knob. Locked. Of course. What else did I expect? Nothing was easy in this miserable old house.

  My mind flashed on the iron bar. I’d left it propped against the wall inside the massive door.

  In two steps I had it in my hand and turned back to the closet door. “Stand back, Sally,” I yelled. “I’m going to break it down.”

  “Jason!” came Sally’s voice, scared and joyful at the same time. “Help!”

  “I’m coming,” I shouted, bashing a hole in the door. In minutes I had the thing in splinters and seconds later Sally jumped into my arms.

  “Bobby was in there forever,” she said, her voice thick with crying. “No one would come let him out. But I knew you would come. I told Bobby you would come.”

  “Bobby locked you in the closet to see if I would come?” My heart felt like a chunk of ice.

  “Not really,” said Sally. “It was a—a ’speriment. But I was really scared.”

  I clutched her to me, thinking black thoughts. We had to get out of this house!

  But first, we had to get out of this room.

  I hoisted Sally against my shoulder and started for the door. But there was no big ring on the inside. No doorknob, either.

  I didn’t think it would be as easy to break down as the closet door. But, then, it wasn’t really there, was it? It was just the door Bobby’s imagination had made. This whole place was just a ghostly nightmare, right? So why did everything feel so solid, so real?

  “Stand back, Sally,” I said, putting her on the floor and grabbing up the iron bar. I ran at the door as hard as I could, the bar straight out in front of me.

  I braced myself for impact and wasn’t at all prepared for what happened. The heavy bar kept going right through the door. The door made a sucking noise as it swallowed in the bar and spit me out.

  I staggered backward and fell.

  Sally screamed.

  There was a brown blob in her hair and it was moving. I grabbed at it and the blob dissolved all over my fingers.

  Desperately I wiped my hand on my shorts.

  I looked around us. The walls were moving, melting and oozing toward us. It was a small room and getting smaller, fast!

  The room was turning to slime.

  Slime dripped in long, gooey strings to the floor. I felt something land on my head and saw a fat, brown slug plop onto Sally’s cheek.

  She batted at it and smeared herself with goo.

  The walls inched closer.

  We were going to be smothered in slime.

  Sally pulled at my hand. “In the closet,” she cried. “Back in the closet!”

  Amazingly, that splintered doorway was the only thing that wasn’t melting out of shape. And there was light coming from inside it.

  Sally scrambled inside. It didn’t look like there was room for me. I felt the room lap at my shoe.

  No, I wasn’t going to fit.

  The wall made sucking noises as it ate my shoe.

  Slime crept up my ankle.

  18

  “Come on, Jason,” screamed Sally, yanking at my hair. “Come on!”

  Shuddering with disgust and terror, I strained with all my might to free my foot.

  But what was the use?

  “Jason, there’s a door,” cried Sally. “Hurry!”

  I jerked my head up.

  Bright light blinded me. Behind it I thought I could make out stairs.

  My heart pounded with hope. I yanked my foot out of the wall and scrambled into the closet. Squinting in the light I let Sally take my hand and lead me onto the stairs.

  Behind us the closet door, whole once again, slammed shut.

  What did Bobby have in store for us next?

  The blinding light winked out, leaving millions of red spots in front of my eyes.

  “Bobby saved us,” said Sally cheerfully. As my eyes adjusted I could see a smear on her cheek that looked like a squashed worm.

  I sucked in my breath, realizing where we were.

  We were on the attic stairs. The regular attic stairs. The real attic stairs. Above us the door was shut, although I could hear faint eating-type sounds behind it. Below us, the hall door was open and faint moonlight filtered up.

  “I want to go downstairs,” said Sally. “I want Winky.”

  “Winky’s in your bedroom,” I said, lifting her into my arms.

  I went down the stairs, almost expecting they’d dissolve into goo under my feet. But the steps stayed rock solid and I was able to get Sally back to her bedroom without anything bad happening.

  “There’s Winky!” Sally murmured sleepily. “Just like you promised!”

  I tucked her in and patted her on the head.

  “You’re the best brother in the world,” Sally said.

  And then she fell asleep.

  Back in my own bedroom, I suddenly felt exhausted. Totally whipped. I was barely able to crawl into bed before I collapsed and closed my eyes. Another few seconds and I’d be out like a light.

  Out like a light.

  But it was the light that was keeping me awake. A blue glowing light coming from the walls.

  I sat up.

  Not again! I couldn’t stand this! I had to get some sleep!

  The blue light was coming from the mirror on the closet door. Once before Bobby had left messages on the mirror there. Now it was glowing again.

  I rubbed my eyes and looked at the mirror.

  The mists in the glass were darker this time, like thunderclouds. Clouds swirling thickly, boiling, and blowing apart as if something inside was fighting for control.

  And when the mists cleared, I could see a coffin in the mirror. No, not a coffin, an old trunk. An old trunk like the trunk in the cellar.

  As I watched in horror, the lid of the trunk opened. Something came out of the trunk, reaching up to the other side of the mirror.

  A skeleton hand.

  The fingertip of the skeleton hand glowed. Slowly the hand began to write on the other side of the mirror.

  FIND THE WITCH

  19

  When I opened my eyes again it was morning. All night I’d been dreaming about the skeleton inside that old trunk, and the message Bobby left me on the mirror.

  I didn’t care what the little ghost wanted me to do—I wasn’t going down in that basement again. No way! Even the thought was enough to almost make me barf.

  I leaped out of bed and ran to the bathroom to brush my teeth. I shuddered as I looked in the bathroom mirror. Don’t you dare leave me another message, I thought.

  And then a feeling of relief flooded me.

>   I wouldn’t have to FIND THE WITCH like the ghost wanted. Because today was the day Dad was going to see about getting us out of here!

  That thought made me feel so cheerful I even felt hungry all of a sudden. I couldn’t wait to get downstairs and get some of that breakfast I could smell cooking.

  As I hurried toward the stairs I heard giggling coming from Sally’s room. My heart flip-flopped. I couldn’t help but feel a little bad about leaving Bobby in the lurch. I only hoped he didn’t know that what we had planned.

  I tiptoed down the hall to Sally’s room.

  “No, silly,” I heard Sally say. “You can come home with me.”

  There was a short silence, then Sally said, “Yes, you can so come. I want you to come.”

  I poked my head around the door. Sally was sitting on the side of her bed holding Winky, her stuffed bunny, and talking to her invisible friend, Bobby.

  “Hi, Sally,” I said brightly. “You okay this morning?”

  Sally turned and smiled at me. “Bobby is such a silly,” she said, hopping down off the bed. “He thinks we’re going to go away and leave him.”

  I brushed her hair back from her face, feeling uneasy. “Let’s go have breakfast,” I said.

  Dad was sitting at the table when we went into the kitchen.

  He ruffled Sally’s hair and stood up, a stiff look on his face. “Jason, why don’t you grab a muffin and walk outside with me while your mother gives Sally her breakfast.”

  Uh-oh. Trouble City. But I hadn’t done anything!

  As we walked out to the spot under the cherry tree, I ticked off the possibilities in my head. Had the witch smashed up the garage? Or slashed Dad’s tires?

  But Dad didn’t look like he was mad when he looked at me and cleared his throat. “I went down to the realtors this morning,” he began.

  Great!

  “Your mother thought maybe we should move, considering what happened here while we were gone. Well, it turns out there isn’t another place available for fifty miles around. It is the height of the summer, after all.”

  The corn muffin turned to lead in my stomach.

  “But while I was at the realtors,” Dad went on gravely, “I heard something that explains what happened here the other night.”

  My head shot up. Did he finally believe me? Could it really be?

  “Seems there was another place vandalized just a couple blocks away. It was a vacant cottage and whoever it was really tore the place apart—kicked and stove in the walls, knocked holes in the roof, smashed up the little furniture that was there. A real mess.” Dad shook his head.

  I knew what was coming.

  “I talked to the police chief and he thinks the same gang is responsible for what happened here. Our place has been empty for years and with it being dark and no car in the driveway they must have thought it was still vacant. Then you kids surprised them and Katie got hurt. I suppose we were lucky it wasn’t worse.”

  I felt like a black cloud just opened over my head. And it was never going to go away. “But, Dad—”

  “The chief doesn’t think they’ll be back. He figures you scared them almost as much as they scared you. But he’ll be sending a cruiser by regularly, especially at night. I don’t know that it’s any better than ghosts, son, but I thought it might set your mind at rest.”

  I knew it was no use arguing. I pretended to be convinced by this story about the vandals and by the time Steve called for me, Mom and Dad were feeling more relaxed.

  Steve and I decided to go mess around at the lake.

  “We’ll take Sally along with us, Mom,” I said.

  Mom smiled as if she was lucky to have a son like me. “That would be great, Jason,” she said. “Your dad and I still have a lot of work to do on the Hartsville project.”

  My mom and dad are architects, designing a town complex for Hartsville. The sooner they were done, the sooner we could leave the house on Cherry Street and go back home.

  While we walked down to the lake, I filled Steve in on what had happened with my parents while Sally ran on ahead with her plastic pail and shovel.

  “We’re never going to get out of that house,” I said dejectedly, kicking a stone into the smooth surface of the lake. “The ghosts are going to win.”

  “We’ll think of something,” said Steve. “Here comes Lucy. Maybe she’ll have an idea.”

  He waved and Lucy came running down, black ponytail flying. She ran past us and leaped into the lake, splashing water in all directions. Steve and I were soaked.

  A minute later we were all splashing each other and laughing and I almost forgot about my troubles.

  We took turns keeping an eye on Sally. She couldn’t really swim but she thought she could and she kept wanting to go out too deep and play with the big kids.

  The lake was really warm that day and we didn’t get out of the water until we were starved.

  As we got dried off I knew there was only one thing to do. I described to Steve and Lucy the message Bobby had written in my mirror.

  “The witch is down there,” I said. “We found that out the hard way, and Bobby wants us to check out that old trunk, that’s why he showed it to me in the mirror. The basement is where we’ll find the secret to everything! That’s why the old witch doesn’t want us down there.”

  Steve and Lucy avoided my eyes.

  “This time I’m going to get that trunk no matter what,” I said. “Who wants to come with me?”

  Lucy and Steve looked at each other, then at me.

  “I gotta go,” said Lucy, throwing her towel over her shoulder and scampering up the little beach. “See you guys later.”

  I turned to Steve.

  He darted away from me. “Hey, Sally,” he called. “Want a piggyback ride?”

  Sighing deeply, I started after them.

  I’d just have to do it myself.

  20

  “Find the witch. Find the witch,” I repeated, trying to psych myself up.

  I went upstairs for my flashlight and a baseball bat. This time I was on my own and I wanted the bat for protection.

  I checked around and discovered that Sally was taking her nap and Mom and Dad were working in their office. So no one would interrupt me.

  That was good, right?

  I opened my bedroom door and immediately slipped on something. I slid right across the room. Whaaat?

  Glancing down, I saw bits of myself looking up at me from all over the floor.

  As I caught my balance my foot skidded again and I almost fell. My feet crunched. There were big chunks of mirrored glass all over the floor!

  Then I looked across the room and didn’t see myself.

  The mirror in the closet door was gone! Smashed to pieces.

  Obviously the witch had taken her sledgehammer to my mirror. And I knew why.

  It was because of the message Bobby had put there last night.

  That proved I was on the right track.

  I swept up the broken glass, then headed back downstairs, keeping the image of the trunk in the front of my mind. I wouldn’t think about anything else. I’d get it and get out.

  The witch was scared, right? That’s why she smashed my mirror. Maybe she was even more scared than me.

  Don’t think about being scared, Jay, I told myself. Don’t think at all—just do it.

  I unbolted the basement door. It creaked loudly as it swung open.

  Get a grip, Jay. Grab that trunk and get out before the witch-thing knows you’re there.

  I took a deep breath, flipped on the light switch, and plunged down the stairs.

  There, I’d made it. And nothing had touched me. But where was the trunk?

  I stopped, my heart pounding, and looked around frantically.

  The old trunk wasn’t where it was supposed to be.

  I gritted my teeth in a panic. The witch-thing must have seen me by now. Any second she’d come roaring out of the shadows.

  Then I saw it!

  The trunk
was pushed back against the wall, almost hidden behind a tall stack of boxes.

  I waded into the mess, pushing boxes out of my way, heaving lamps and footstools and old shoes to the side to make a path.

  Not only did I have to reach the trunk, the second part of my plan was to drag it back up with me.

  I was making a lot of noise and concentrating on reaching my goal as fast as possible. So it was no surprise I didn’t hear her behind me.

  It was the stink that warned me.

  21

  All of a sudden I was gagging from the garbagey, dead-for-a-hundred-years smell.

  I spun around.

  The witch-thing leaped from behind a box, her eyes glowing in the dark.

  “Arrrrrggggg! You miserable boy!” shrieked the creature.

  Her sharp claws sank through the material of my shirt.

  Riiiip!

  My shirt tore as I slung her off me in terror.

  She hissed, yellow eyes glowing and quick as a flash I raised the baseball bat and swung. I heard a crunch as the bat connected.

  “Ahheeee!” The witch screamed and vanished back into the shadows.

  I was breathing hard but there was no time to rest. I grabbed the handle of the trunk.

  It was lighter than I expected.

  But what had I thought was in it? A body?

  I heaved and hauled the trunk through the path I’d sort of made, banging into boxes and knocking things over.

  Then I was clear of the mess of junk and halfway to the stairs. The bottom of the trunk scraped over the dirt floor as I dragged it, my breath sounding ragged in my ears.

  I reached the stairs and started humping it up, making an awful racket.

  My heart was ready to burst with effort.

  Suddenly a black shape darted out of the darkness and rushed me.

  The witch was back. Hissing and spitting, she grabbed hold of the handle on the other end of the trunk.

  “Mine!” she moaned. “Mine!”

  I yanked back harder but I was nearly out of strength.

  She pulled the trunk down a step, then another, dragging me down, too.

  The witch had won again—but I couldn’t let go.

  My hand seemed permanently frozen to that handle. She was pulling my arm right out of its socket!