by B. A. Frade
“What? Let me see.” I took the book from her as new writing appeared.
Be patient. Soon, the fun will begin. Oh, yes. Soon, the fun will begin—and your ending will be written.
I jerked back. “Um, it’s started again.” I tried giving the book back, but she shook her head.
“Nuh-uh. Your turn.”
I could tell the whole “special friend” thing had her creeped out. How could I tell? Because of the twin thing. Also, because I was freaked out too. I gave her the flashlight, and she shined it on the page. A new paragraph emerged before our eyes.
The twins have their differences—Olivia’s a tidy soccer star who likes to plan ahead. Aidan’s a slobby prankster who likes to improvise. But they have much in common too. They both like eating s’mores. They both like playing with Snort. They both like camping out. They both like being alive.
Liv sucked in her breath when I came to that last line.
“Sticks and stones may break our bones,” I reminded her—and myself too.
“But words can never harm us,” she finished.
I nodded and read on.
They share a unique connection too—“a twin thing,” they call it. They finish each other’s sentences, read each other’s moods and expressions just by looking at each other’s faces. Why, sometimes, it’s as if they share a brain, the way they instinctively know what the other is thinking.
Liv and I exchanged a look. True, the look said.
Then we exchanged another that yelled, That’s creepy! Cut it out—stop sharing my brain!
“I’ll just get on—” I started.
“With the story,” Liv finished.
We groaned at the same time, then groaned again because we’d groaned at the same time.
But is their connection really so very strong, or can it be broken as easily as, say, a bone… or one’s sanity? The Scaremaster intends to find out. Tonight, Olivia and Aidan’s “twin thing” will be put to the ultimate test. How? That’s for me to know. And for them to survive.
There was a long pause then, as if the Scaremaster was collecting his—her? its?—thoughts before continuing.
“The suspense is going to kill me,” I muttered after more than a minute had passed.
The second I said them, I wished the words back. I half expected the Scaremaster to write something like, “Oh, no, Aidan. The suspense isn’t going kill you. But my special friend might.” I held my breath, but the page remained blank. Still—
“Here’s an idea,” I said, working to keep my voice jaunty in the hopes that Liv wouldn’t hear the spike of panic in it. “Let’s stop talking and read to ourselves if new stuff appears.”
“Yeah. I like that idea.”
We huddled over the mysterious book and watched as a big section of new writing materialized on the page.
How fortunate the twins are to have such a perfect spot for their campout. Perfect… and so perfectly isolated. Overhead, the trees sway in the wind, their rustling leaves like voices whispering too softly to be understood. Tiny creatures of the night skitter unseen beneath the brush of the forest floor. An eerie mist rises over the lake, shrouding the island from view. The purple-blue twilight slowly deepens into shades of gray. Soon, the gray will turn to black. Soon, the mist will creep over the lake’s borders. Soon—oh, so very soon—the fun will begin. The twins, meanwhile, remain blissfully unaware of what lurks beyond the touch of their campfire’s glow. Here’s a hint: The slumbering beast now stirs awake. When darkness falls, he’ll seek the lake.
“Woof!” Snort leapt to her feet with a sudden sharp bark, startling Liv so much she dropped the flashlight. It winked out.
Ears perked, Snort faced the forest behind us. She growled low in her throat. Her ruff stood on end.
I put Tales from the Scaremaster aside and looped my hand through her collar. “Snort, what—”
“Shhh!” Liv hissed at me. “Listen!”
A branch snapped. Then another. A light flickered briefly through the trees and vanished. I strained my ears and picked up the sound of soft footfalls. Whatever was out there was coming in our direction. And it was trying not to be heard.
Chapter Nine
I know what trying not to be heard sounds like, because I often try not to be heard when playing pranks on Liv. For the briefest moment, I felt a stab of guilt for all the times I’d sneaked up behind her.
Snort whimpered and pulled against my hold. I tightened my grip on her collar—I wanted her near us in case the thing out there came over here—and searched the darkness beyond the firelight. The red-orange glow cast our shadows onto the tent wall, the flickering flames making them dance and jump even though we sat frozen in place. I thought I saw a dark shape moving in the shadows, but it must have been a trick of the firelight, because when I looked again, it was gone. I didn’t dare breathe, afraid I’d miss hearing something.
And then I was just afraid because I did hear something.
“Brwoooooohhhh…”
My eyes met Liv’s. Hers were as wide as saucers and black with fear. I guessed mine looked the same. I knew we were sharing the same thought too: We were about to meet the Scaremaster’s special friend.
Snort whined. I looked at my hand on her collar and back up to Liv, telling her with a glance that I was going to let Snort go.
She bit her lip and shook her head violently. I frowned a question: Why not?
“Brwoooooohhhh!”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a strange glow in the woods. Before I could make out what it was, a figure fell out of a tree.
Liv and I shrieked. Still clinging to Snort’s collar, I scuttled backward, my bare feet tearing gouges in the ground as I tried to get up. Liv looked paralyzed as the figure lurched upright and loomed toward her. It paused, alternating between moaning and gulping in ragged gasps as it swayed drunkenly just outside the firelight.
“Liv,” I squeaked. “Liv!”
The slumbering beast now stirs awake.
The first line of the Scaremaster’s rhyme raced through my brain as I stared with revulsion at the horror show that stood over my sister. Its misshapen head bulged with lumpy growths. A scaly red scalp showed through patchy tufts of black hair. The mouth pulled grotesquely to one side, exposing nasty gray teeth and pustule-ridden gums. Sunken eyes and nose holes—no nose, just holes—peeked out of its welt-covered face. A hump rode one shoulder, the arm beneath dangling uselessly. Blood spattered its torn shirt. My terror-stricken gaze dropped, and I saw where the blood had come from—the razor-sharp butcher knife clutched in the creature’s other hand. A single red drop dripped from the point.
“Brwoooooohhhh!”
The ghoul moaned again and took a faltering step toward Liv. Snort pulled so hard she nearly tore my arm out of its socket. I fell forward to my knees and let go.
She charged the monster. The freak flung up its arms. My heart seized. One downward swing of the knife, and Snort would be sliced open. I couldn’t let that happen. I staggered to my feet and lowered my shoulder. But just as I was about to pile-drive the murderous zombie into oblivion, I heard something that stopped me in my tracks.
“Down, Snort! Get off me, you stupid mutt, will you? Sheesh!”
The walking corpse had dropped the knife in order to fend off Snort’s attack. Except Snort wasn’t attacking—not with her teeth, anyway. She was on her hind legs, her front paws on the blood-soaked fiend’s shoulders, slobbering the hideous face with excited kisses while her tail wagged so hard I thought her backside would achieve liftoff.
My heart rate slowed to normal. I strode forward, picked something up off the ground, and held it out. “You lost your hump.”
The gruesome creature managed to free itself from Snort’s loving embrace. “Oh. Thanks.” It accepted the wadded-up pillow I offered and then tore off its head. “Hey, Aidan.”
“Hi, Josh.” I fist-bumped my best friend. A scrawny kid with a wiry build who was a few inches shorter than me, he waggled his dark eye
brows and grinned. I gestured toward the head. “Nice mask.”
He nodded. “Yeah, it’s decent. Uncomfortable, though. Hot under there.”
“Well, full-coverage rubber usually is,” I noted. “Personally, I prefer—”
“Are you kidding me?” Liv scrambled to her feet. It didn’t take a twin thing to know she was furious. What took me by surprise was that her fury wasn’t aimed at Josh. Its full force was directed right at me.
“What? What did I do?” Then it hit me. “Wait, you think I planned this—this—whatever this is?”
She planted her fists on her hips and stared daggers at me. “You’re saying you didn’t? First the weird lady in Meyer’s. Then Tales from the Scaremaster with its story about the slumbering beast. And suddenly, ooh, look—a beast appears!” She jabbed a finger into Josh’s chest.
“Ow! Hey!” Josh rubbed his chest with a wounded look.
Liv ignored him. “How long have you been planning this, Aidan?”
“Aidan had nothing to do with it. This was all us!”
Jenna, a wide grin on her face, strolled out of the darkness and swung an arm around her brother. Josh hadn’t hit his growth spurt yet, but he still looked taller than his sister thanks to his towering ’fro of super-soft black hair, which I now recognized as the same hair that had poked in tufts through the scalp of his mask. His eyes, a shade darker than mine and Liv’s, danced with mirth.
Jenna’s long, loose curly locks were draped over one shoulder. She was dressed in black shorts and a black T-shirt. Her startling green eyes contrasted with her brown skin and turned her pretty face into something truly arresting. I caught myself staring at her for a minute too long before blinking myself back to the conversation.
“You were great, little brwoooohhh,” Jenna said, imitating Josh’s monster moan perfectly. “Made my job easy.”
Realization slowly dawned on me. “You’re saying… you concocted this? You and Josh?”
Jenna waggled her eyebrows. “Not bad, huh? I’m just mad you let go of Snort! If you’d held on a little longer, you wouldn’t have figured out it was Josh so soon. Still”—she held up her phone—“I had plenty of time to start recording and keep it rolling.”
I remembered the strange glow in the woods I’d seen before the monster—before Josh—fell out of the tree. My stomach dropped. “Recording? You mean—”
“Oh yeah.” Jenna waved her phone playfully. “Captured the whole prank right here.” She pouted. “Too bad my battery is so low. I don’t want to risk using it up or else I’d post the video right now. Oh, well. Tomorrow, everyone we know can enjoy your performance.”
Josh flashed me a gleeful smile. “Gotcha!”
Chapter Ten
Okay. Maybe I deserved to be the one pranked for once. I just wished Jenna hadn’t seen me looking like an idiot, not to mention the countless others who would see her post. Jenna has tons of followers because she is so impossibly cool. It was going to be demoralizing.
Another thought crossed my mind then. I looked at Liv. From her expression, I could tell she was having the same thought: Were Jenna and Josh somehow behind Tales from the Scaremaster too? It seemed far-fetched, and yet… Josh had dropped out of the tree just after we got to the line about the beast. The timing was almost too perfect.
“Let me understand. All this”—I cut my hands through the air to indicate the costume and the book by the fire—“was something the two of you worked out together? When? Why?”
Jenna preened. “The when is earlier today. Remember when Liv texted us?”
“Yeah. You said you had to convince your parents to let you do the campout, and that you’d meet us here if you could.”
“Mmm, yes.” Jenna nodded with self-satisfaction. “That was a lie to give us time to put Josh’s costume together.”
“The costume.” Liv and I exchanged glances. “Nothing… else?”
“Well,” Jenna said, “we had to wait for it to get dark enough out so we could get into position without you seeing us. But other than that…” She shrugged.
“You actually deserve credit for the special effects, Aidan,” Josh put in, indicating his blood-soaked clothes and the butcher knife, which upon closer inspection turned out to be rubber. “I found that squeeze bottle of fake blood in your backpack when I was putting my stuff in the tent earlier.” He grinned at me. “You almost caught me in there when you came back from the lake. I had to sneak out the back door!”
“He nearly pulled the whole tent down on top of him,” Jenna complained. “You sure that thing is up right?”
“It’s fine,” I huffed. “Exactly how long have you guys been hiding in the woods?”
Before Josh could answer, Liv cut in. “Fake blood?” she asked, her eyes narrowed dangerously at me. “What fake blood?”
“Um…”
She whirled around and dove into the tent. Seconds later, she emerged with my backpack. “Sharpie. Silly String,” she said, removing each incriminating item. “And, yep, here it is. Fake blood. You were going to prank me tonight, weren’t you?”
I went on the offensive. “I might have. They did.” I shoved the items back into my pack, my slingshot along with it.
“Only to give you a taste of your own medicine,” Liv pointed out.
“More like a huge helping than a taste,” I grumbled.
“The bigger the better, if you ask me.”
“Which I didn’t.”
“I don’t care,” Liv fumed. “I’m with them. We’re tired of you pulling stupid pranks on us.”
I drew myself up. “My pranks aren’t stupid. They’re clever. You—”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Time-out, twins!” Jenna stepped between us, bouncing the palm of one hand on the fingertips of the other. “Listen up, and listen up good. One, I was promised an unhealthy number of s’mores tonight. And two”—she moved to the fire pit and picked up Tales from the Scaremaster—“what the heck is this?”
“It’s a book,” Josh supplied helpfully.
Any last hope I had that they were somehow behind the book fizzled when I saw their curious looks. I caught Liv’s eye and tried to figure out if she wanted to tell Josh and Jenna about the weird writing. But for once, I couldn’t read her expression. So I just went with my gut instinct, which was not to risk looking foolish for a second time that night, and kept my answer short and sweet.
“We found it earlier.”
“In the lake,” Liv added.
So much for not looking foolish.
“In the lake?” Jenna laughed. “You mean by the lake.”
“No. In,” Liv insisted. “And get this—it wasn’t even wet.”
“Huh.” Jenna examined the cover and shrugged. “It cleaned up nice, I guess, but it doesn’t seem very impressive. The title is pretty lame.”
“Don’t insult it,” Liv warned. “It doesn’t like that.”
Jenna gave her a funny look.
“It’s… um, it’s kind of an unusual book,” I said.
“Unusual, how?” Josh wanted to know.
“We’ve been communicating with it,” Liv blurted, “and it’s been writing a story about us.”
Jenna held a hand to her ear as if she’d misheard. “Come again?”
“The words just sort of materialize up through the paper,” I mumbled. When I said it aloud, I couldn’t believe how stupid it sounded. Stupid, and impossible.
Josh didn’t seem to think so. “Cool!” he said. “Think it will write something about me?”
“Josh, don’t be dumb,” Jenna said. She looked at me suspiciously. “Are you behind this?”
“What? No! It’s not a prank. I promise,” I said. “Liv, tell her.”
Liv bit her lip, stared at the fire, and toyed with her hair. “At first, I thought it was something he’d done.” A brief smile crossed her face. “But now I don’t. It’s way too clever for him to have orchestrated.”
“Gee, thanks,” I muttered.
Liv’s smile faded, repla
ced by a look of fear. “Maybe you should just read it,” she suggested to Jenna.
“Oh, I will. I mean, come on. Gotta have spooky stories on a campout,” Jenna said. “Just like you gotta have s’mores. Speaking of which… I’m ready for some. You guys?”
Josh pumped his fist. “Yes!”
Twenty minutes and several servings of gooey, chocolaty goodness later, Jenna licked her fingers and reached for Tales from the Scaremaster again. “Story time,” she said in a librarian singsong voice.
“I want to see.” Josh scooted closer to his sister, picked up the flashlight Liv had dropped earlier, and shined it at the book.
“Okay,” Jenna said, “here goes nothing.”
Which was exactly what Liv had said before nothing… turned into something.
Chapter Eleven
I held my breath. Part of me hoped the Scaremaster’s story would still be there, because if it wasn’t, I might never live it down. Liv might not either, but I wasn’t quite as concerned about that.
But then I flashed back to the moment the freaky writing first appeared. The words bleeding up through the page. The Scaremaster calling us by name. That spooky rhyme warning us—no, not warning. Threatening.
My skin crawled. Yeah, I thought, hugging myself, I’ll be just fine if the book is blank. Then we can have ourselves a regular old campout, minus the frightfest.
Jenna flipped open the cover. The story was still there. She glanced around at each of us, then licked her lips and read aloud the passages about Liv being in trouble for insulting the Scaremaster. (“Guess I shouldn’t have called it lame,” Jenna nervously joked) and how the Scaremaster liked finding children alone in the dark (Josh scrunched in even closer to her when she came to that part). Then she got to the rhyme at the very end:
The slumbering beast sleeps no more. Amid mist and muck, it slogs toward shore.
“Hold on,” Liv interrupted with a frown. “That’s not how the rhyme went. Remember, Aidan? When we read it earlier, the beast was stirring awake.”
