The Horror at Chiller House

by R. L. Stine

  He shoved a card into my hand. Then he handed a card to each of the other five kids.

  “These are Helper cards,” he said. “See the face on your card? That person will be your Helper. The Helpers know where the chests are hidden, and they will help you find them.”

  I gazed at my card. A fat, sweaty man in a floppy white chef’s hat. His name was at the bottom in bold black type: CHEF BELCHER.

  I glanced at some of the other cards. MURDER THE CLOWN. MONDO THE MAGICAL. MADAME DOOM.

  “Find the person on your card,” Chiller said. “Show them the card. Then they will know you are playing the game. They will help you and give you important clues.”

  “How do we know we can trust you?” Marco demanded.

  Chiller snickered. “Do you have a choice?”

  I stared at my Helper card. Was there really a Chef Belcher? Did these helpers know where the chests were hidden? Or was Chiller just messing with us?

  Meg asked the question that was running through all of our minds. “If we find a little Horror, will you really let us go home?”

  Chiller’s cheeks turned pink. He narrowed his eyes at Meg. “I sent you home the last time — didn’t I? Do you think I’m a cheater?”

  He waved us toward the door with both hands. “Go. The game starts now. Go find your Helpers. Find the red chests. Good luck.”

  Marco grumbled something under his breath. Beside him, Andy looked pale and frightened. The two girls walked together as we started for the door.

  Sam and I bumped as we both reached for the doorknob. I pushed the door open and took one step outside.

  “Oh, wait. Come back,” Chiller called.

  We all turned back.

  “Wait,” he said. “I almost forgot. I forgot to tell you the dangerous part.”

  We shuffled back to the front counter. I had a fluttery feeling in my chest. I get that when I’m scared or nervous.

  What did he mean by dangerous?

  “I can’t believe I forgot the best part,” Chiller said. His little eyes flashed. He bent down and picked something up from behind the counter.

  A few kids gasped when they saw it. A crossbow.

  “You see,” Chiller said, “some of my friends and I are having a hunting party.”

  He fumbled in his drawer and pulled out a feathered arrow with a long shaft. “And guess what we’re hunting, kids? We’re hunting YOU.”

  “Whoa! Wait a minute!”

  “You’re joking — right?”

  “No way! This can’t be real!”

  We all started shouting at once.

  I had my eyes on the arrow as he carefully fitted it into the crossbow.

  “Hunting you will add a lot of excitement to the game,” he said. “While you hunt for the red treasure chests, we hunt for you!”

  We were all shouting and asking questions.

  I don’t think he heard us. His eyes looked hazy. He seemed to be in his own world.

  “Father never thought I was a good hunter,” he said. “I wish he were here to see how skilled I have become.”

  He raised the crossbow. Aimed it over our heads at the back wall of the shop.

  A target hung on the wall between the two rows of shelves.

  Chiller narrowed his eyes. Aimed carefully — and fired.

  The arrow bounced off the wall. It missed the target by at least three feet.

  “Uh-oh,” Chiller muttered. “This could get messy.”

  He blinked when he turned back to us. I think he’d forgotten we were there. He gripped the crossbow tightly in one hand.

  “This is a joke — right? You can’t really hunt us,” I said. “Those arrows aren’t real — right?”

  He shrugged the shoulders of his old-fashioned jacket. “It’s a game. Just a game,” he muttered. “We all love games, right? Have fun with it. And … if you play well, you won’t get hurt.”

  What does THAT mean?

  Chiller pulled another arrow from the drawer. “My friends and I are giving you a head start,” he said. “We won’t come after you till tomorrow morning. Or is it tonight? I forget.”

  He frowned and shook his head. “You’d better stay alert.”

  Again, we all started shouting and protesting.

  “Get going!” Chiller shouted over our cries. “You’re wasting time. The game has started.” He waved us to the door again.

  “What about the real Horrors?” I demanded. “All the park workers. Do they know about your game?”

  “Of course not,” Chiller replied. “I don’t think they’d approve.”

  “So what if we tell them?” I asked.

  That made Chiller laugh. “Do you really think they’ll believe such a crazy story?”

  “You — you’re not joking?” Andy stammered. “You and your friends are really going to hunt us?”

  Chiller didn’t answer. Instead, he raised the crossbow — and sent another arrow flying toward the wall target.

  This one went so wild, it hit the ceiling and stuck there.

  I stared up at it. The arrow had a suction cup at the end.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. He was trying to scare us, but he wasn’t using real arrows.

  “Come on, let’s go,” Marco said. He trotted to the door. “We’ve got to get away from here.”

  We stampeded out of the store. I was the last to leave. I turned at the doorway.

  Behind the counter, Chiller had that same foggy look on his face. He was talking, even though he was all alone.

  I didn’t really understand what he was saying.

  “I’m a hunter, Daddy,” he said. “See? I’m a hunter — just like you wanted.”

  We ran out onto the plaza. It was a warm night. The air smelled of popcorn and cotton candy. A tiny sliver of a moon hung low in the sky.

  Lights were flickering out. The park was closing. People were hurrying to the exit gates.

  We ran together, dodging baby strollers, families, and groups of teenagers.

  Finally, we came to a stop beside the front wall of the hotel, the Stagger Inn. I turned back toward the plaza. I couldn’t see the Chiller House shop from there. Somehow, that made me feel a little better.

  We leaned against the stone wall of the hotel and struggled to catch our breath. A Horror passed by pushing a purple food cart. “Chicken heads on a stick!” he shouted. “I have a few stale ones left. How about it? Crunchy chicken heads on a stick. It tastes better than it sounds.”

  I don’t think any of us were hungry.

  Meg shook out her curly red hair. She stepped away from the wall. “Listen, guys,” she said, “this isn’t as bad as it sounds.”

  “Yeah. At least the arrows aren’t real,” I said. “That’s the good news — right? And the bad news —”

  “Even if we find the red chests, we don’t know if Chiller will really let us go home,” Marco said. “That’s the bad news.”

  “He did this to me before,” Meg said. “Last Halloween he brought me here. He made me play a different game. A crazy game. I had to prove to him that I was me!”

  “Oh, wow!” Jessica shook her head. “He brought you back here twice?”

  “Yes,” Meg replied. “Last time, I was terrified. Scared out of my mind. But in the end, I held one of those little Horrors. And it sent me home.”

  “I don’t care,” I said. “I don’t like this game. No way I trust Chiller. I just want to get out of this park, as far away from that crazy old guy as I can get.”

  “You can’t trust him,” Andy said. “Like I told you, he gave me a cord with an old dog tooth on it. He said it was a Wishing Tooth. And guess what? When I wished on it, this zombie dog came back to life, searching for its tooth!”

  “He sold me these Insta-Gro Pets,” Sam said. “And when I got home, I was attacked by vicious hamsters.”

  “Hamsters?” Jessica cried. “Vicious hamsters?!”

  We all burst out laughing.

  Sam blushed. “It’s not funny,” he muttered. �
��Hamsters have teeth, you know.”

  That made us laugh again.

  “I could tell you an even weirder story,” Marco said. “How I met The Ooze and had to fight these supervillains. It was totally insane.”

  “Enough stories,” I said. “I guess we all have crazy stories, thanks to Chiller.” I pointed. “There’s the exit gate. Duh. Why don’t we just walk out of here?”

  “Yeah, why not?” Sam agreed. “Look at all the people leaving. We’ll just walk out with them.”

  “Then we can find someone with a phone that works,” Jessica said. “And call for help. No problem.”

  I watched people walking easily through the turnstiles. “Piece of cake,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  Had Chiller forgotten that we could just walk away from his crazy game?

  I took off, jogging toward the gate. I had that fluttery feeling in my chest again. This time, I knew it was just excitement about escaping.

  The others came trotting behind me. No one spoke. We were all eager to get to the other side of the gate, into the parking lot, where we could get help.

  I reached the exit first. I took a deep breath. Walked slowly. Tried to look calm.

  I stepped up behind a family with two little kids. The parents helped push the kids through the turnstile. They walked away into the parking lot.

  My turn.

  Good-bye, HorrorLand. Good-bye, Jonathan Chiller.

  I grabbed the turnstile. Pushed it.

  And let out a scream of pain and horror as a powerful blast shook my body.

  It sent me staggering.

  Pain jolted every part of me. I dropped to the ground.

  Breathe … Breathe … Come on, breathe, Ray.

  I couldn’t move.

  My arms and legs buzzed and shook. I sucked in a deep breath of cool air. I lifted my head slowly. I tried to blink away the yellow and red splotches that flashed in front of my eyes.

  The other kids huddled around me. Sam helped pull me to my feet. “You got a way powerful shock,” he said.

  “We could see the flash of electricity,” Marco said.

  I blinked some more. The pulsing colors were fading away. I took another deep breath. Started to feel normal again.

  I turned to the gate. I saw two women walk out without any trouble.

  “How did Chiller do that to you?” Andy asked.

  “I think I know how,” I said. I pulled the Chef Belcher Helper card from my jeans pocket. “Chiller must have planted some kind of sensor in these cards. When the card goes up to the turnstile, it sets off the electrical charge.”

  “Bet you’re right,” Marco said. He pulled out his card and studied it. “There’s got to be a chip in here that sets off the shock.”

  “Okay. So let’s just throw away our cards and walk out of here,” Jessica said.

  I liked her. She was bold. She didn’t seem to be afraid of anything.

  “What did you choose at Chiller’s shop the first time you were here?” I asked.

  “I told you. A two-headed coin,” she replied. “It took my friend and me back to a medieval kingdom. Really. Don’t ask me about it. I know you won’t believe me.”

  “I believe you,” Marco said. “Chiller can do a lot of weird things. But who says we can’t just dump the cards and walk out of here?”

  I handed him mine. He collected all the others.

  I didn’t see any trash cans. We spotted an empty food cart across from the exit. The sign on the side read: CHOCOLATE CHIP SUSHI ICE CREAM. There was no one near it.

  Marco pulled open a drawer in the front of the cart and shoved the trading cards inside. He slammed the drawer shut and hurried back to us.

  “What are we waiting for?” he cried. “Let’s go. We’re outta here.” We all began to walk quickly.

  The park had emptied out. I didn’t see anyone else around. I started to jog. “I’ll go first,” I said. “I’ll see if it’s safe.”

  I took a deep breath. I grabbed the turnstile.

  I clenched all of my muscles. Was I going to get another painful jolt of electricity?

  No.

  Holding my breath, I started to push the turnstile …

  … and the heavy metal gate came crashing down in front of it. The gate made a clanging roar as it thundered to the pavement.

  Trapped. Trapped inside.

  I ducked back and glanced up and down the exit. The iron gate had come down like a wall. No way out.

  “I … don’t believe it,” Sam said, shaking his head. “We were so close.”

  “Chiller wins this round,” I said.

  “Let’s get those cards back and find our Helpers,” Jessica said. “The faster we find them, the faster we get out of this crazy place.”

  I spun around. I started to race to the ice cream cart.

  I skidded to a stop — and uttered a shocked cry. “Oh, no. I don’t believe it!”

  The cart was gone.

  Marco grabbed my shoulder. He pointed. “There it goes!”

  A fat green-and-purple Horror in a white apron was pushing the cart away.

  “Get him!” I cried.

  The Horror looked stunned as we ran after him and circled the cart. He stared at us. “You dudes like sushi-frutti ice cream?”

  “We need something in your cart,” I said. I didn’t wait for him to move. I reached over and slid open the top drawer. I grabbed the cards and shut the drawer for him.

  “Try a scoop,” the Horror said. “I’ve got lima bean sherbet, too.” He made a pouty face when he saw we weren’t interested. “Afraid it will spoil your appetites?” he asked.

  “Our appetites are already spoiled,” Jessica said.

  We hurried away. Back to the side of the Stagger Inn. I passed out the cards. I gave everyone the card they had before.

  “We’d better split up,” I said.

  Andy bit his bottom lip. I could see him thinking hard. “I … I don’t really want to go on this scavenger hunt alone,” he murmured. “Look. I’m not afraid to admit it. I’m scared.”

  “He’s right,” Meg said, moving closer to him. “Maybe Chiller wants to split us up. Maybe we stand a better chance if we stick together.”

  “If we stick together, it just makes it easier for the Hunters,” Jessica said.

  “What if we go in pairs?” I suggested.

  “That might work,” Andy said.

  “Okay. Let’s go in twos,” I said. “We’ll search for the Helpers. Maybe some of us will get lucky and go home. If anyone is left or in trouble or something, meet behind Chiller’s shop in two hours.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Jessica said.

  So we split up into twos. Marco and Jessica. Andy and Meg. That left Sam and me.

  Sam squinted at my Helper card. “Hey, I remember that guy,” he said. “Chef Belcher. Yeah. I remember his restaurant. Sick. The food was totally sick.”

  “Do you remember where the restaurant is?” I asked.

  Sam nodded. “Follow me.”

  * * *

  We made our way through the empty park. The little sliver of a moon was high overhead now. The air turned cooler. It was too quiet. I wished there were other people around.

  I thought about my parents and my brother back home. I wondered if they had discovered I was gone. I wondered if they were in a total panic.

  I felt major panic myself. As we followed the path toward Wolfsbane Forest, I kept my eye out for someone carrying a crossbow.

  Sam led the way to a tiny place called The Spear-It Café. The sign by the door read: IF YOU CAN SPEAR IT, YOU CAN EAT IT!

  We walked in together. It was just a lunch counter with a row of red stools. The air smelled stale and greasy.

  On the other side of the counter, I saw a man in a white uniform with a white chef’s hat on his head. He stood with his back to us and scraped a fry griddle with a long-handled spatula.

  Sam and I took seats at the counter. “Hi,” I said. “Are you Chef Belcher?”

&nbs
p; He turned around. He pulled off his chef’s hat and mopped his sweaty forehead with it. He was bald and red-faced and dripping with sweat. His blue eyes rolled around in his head as if they were loose or something.

  “Aah, welcome, victims!” he cried, rubbing his hands together.

  I guess he was trying to be funny.

  Before we could say anything, he whipped his hand up — and trapped a fly inside it. “Got to be fast,” he said.

  He carried the fly to a big pot on the stove and dropped it in. “It’s my famous Everything Stew,” he said. “Flies give it flavor.” He winked at us. “Just because I went to barber school doesn’t mean I don’t know the right ingredients to use.”

  I swallowed. My stomach felt fluttery. “We were told to talk to you,” I said.

  “Sure,” Belcher replied. “First, try the stew.” He scooped two big helpings into bowls and carried them to the counter. “Go ahead. It’s on the house.”

  Sam and I gazed into our bowls. The stew was crawling with flies.

  “Sam and I aren’t very hungry,” I said.

  Belcher wiped more sweat off with his chef’s hat. Then he pulled the hat back on his head.

  I held up the Helper card. He took it and studied it. His wild eyes rolled around crazily.

  “Not a bad picture of me,” he murmured. “Do you know which is my best side?”

  “Which side?” I asked.

  “The outside!” He chuckled. He slid the card around in his greasy fingers.

  “We’re playing a game,” Sam said. “We’re supposed to find six red chests.”

  “My chest is red,” Belcher said. “I have a pretty bad rash.”

  I think he was making another joke. But Sam and I didn’t laugh.

  This guy was totally annoying.

  “You’re a Helper, right?” I said. “Can you help us find one of the little red chests?”

  “Maybe,” he said. He scratched his chin. “I can’t get it for you. That’s against the rules. But I can lead you in the right direction.”

  “Awesome,” I said.

  Belcher scrunched up his chef’s hat and dropped it onto the counter. He pulled off the stained apron and let it fall to the floor. “Follow me,” he said.

  He led us out of the restaurant, around the side to the back. Clouds covered the moon. There were no lights back here.