The Horror at Chiller House

by R. L. Stine

  We stared at him in silence. I didn’t take my eyes from the key.

  He had started to slip it into the lock — then he stopped. What question made him stop?

  “Where are your parents?” he asked.

  No one spoke. Sam and I exchanged glances.

  Why did he ask that question? Was he saying he wouldn’t let us out of the park unless our parents were nearby waiting for us?

  “They’re … in the parking lot,” I said. It was the first thing that popped into my head.

  “Yeah,” Jessica chimed in. “Waiting for us. In the parking lot.”

  The three guards studied us. “Let’s see,” Gold Badge said.

  He peered through the exit gate. I could see the lighted parking lot on the other side.

  “The lot is empty,” he said. “I don’t see anyone waiting for you out there.”

  I let out a sigh. I wished I’d thought of a better lie.

  “Let us out,” Meg said. “We’ll find our parents once we’re out of here.”

  Gold Badge shook his head. “No can do,” he said.

  “Why?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You won’t let us go?”

  We surrounded him, all shooting questions at him at once.

  He slid the silver key back into his uniform pocket. He shook his head, saying no to all of our questions.

  I had a heavy, sinking feeling in my stomach. I wanted to grab the key from his pocket and unlock the gate myself.

  “Back off, kids,” one of the other guards barked.

  “I can’t let you go off on your own,” Gold Badge said. “I can’t release you without your parents.”

  “But our parents are expecting us at home,” I said. “If you let us go —”

  “Where is home?” he demanded.

  I didn’t answer. If I told him home was a few hundred miles from here, I knew I’d never get out. And I’d never be able to explain.

  None of us could.

  “Let’s go. Follow us,” a guard ordered.

  “Where are you taking us?” Jessica demanded.

  “To the security office,” he said. “We’ll wait there till we can locate your parents.”

  Should we tell them about Jonathan Chiller? About the game he was forcing us to play?

  I thought about it as the three Horrors marched us away from the exit gate.

  Maybe we should stay away from Chiller House. Maybe the old man is waiting there with all of his Hunters, crossbows ready.

  If we tell the guards about Chiller’s crazy game, will they believe us?

  Why should they?

  I decided not to say a word about Chiller. I studied the faces of my friends. I could see they were thinking the same thing.

  “We’re never getting out of here,” Sam muttered as we walked. He shook his head. “We came so close to escaping….”

  I shivered. It had to be after midnight, and the late-night air was cold and damp.

  The guards were herding us along the backs of the plaza shops. It was dark back here. The shops were all closed and empty, no light from their windows.

  “Are your parents staying at the Stagger Inn?” one of the guards asked.

  “Uh … not exactly,” I said.

  He stepped in front of us. It was so dark, we nearly bumped into him.

  “Not exactly?” he boomed. “What does that mean? Yes or no?”

  “No,” I answered.

  “Well, where are you kids staying?” he demanded.

  I couldn’t think of a good lie.

  “Nowhere,” Jessica spoke up. “We just got here today. We’re not really staying anyplace.”

  At least she was telling the truth.

  “Is that why you’re wandering the park at all hours?” Gold Badge demanded.

  “Uh … not really,” I said again.

  The guards motioned us forward. We continued walking along the backs of the shops.

  My brain was spinning. We have no choice, I thought. We’re going to have to tell them the truth.

  We stepped into a square of pale light. I turned and saw where we were.

  We were behind Chiller House. The light was on in the back room.

  I peered in through the window — and gasped.

  “I don’t believe this,” I muttered.

  I’d seen something that could change everything.

  Madame Doom was sitting on a stool in front of a dressing table. She had her back turned. But I could see her face clearly as she gazed into the dressing room mirror.

  As I watched, she pulled off her long black hair. A wig.

  Underneath the wig, she had thinning white hair pulled straight back off a wide forehead. She picked up a sponge and began wiping the color off her cheeks.

  “What’s up with this?” I murmured.

  And that’s when I recognized the face in the mirror.

  Jonathan Chiller!

  Sam bumped my shoulder and pointed to a side of the window. And I saw a clown costume hanging on a peg. A clown mask with an ax attached to the top.

  Beside that, a chef’s apron and hat. A mirrored face mask. A magician’s top hat. Other costumes.

  “Oh, wow!” I exclaimed. I stood up straight.

  “What’s wrong with you kids?” a guard asked sternly. “Let’s get moving now.”

  We ignored him. We were all staring in shock through the back window of Chiller House.

  And for the first time, we all knew the truth.

  Jonathan Chiller was also Chef Belcher, Madame Doom, Murder the Clown, and all the others.

  Jonathan Chiller played every character.

  There was only one enemy — one Hunter. That old man sitting in front of the mirror.

  “Look — on that shelf!” Marco cried.

  Yes. On a shelf above the mirror — six little red chests.

  I turned to the others. “Everything Chiller does is a total fake,” I said. “He made us think all those people were hunting us. But it was only him.”

  “We outnumber the old man six to one,” Marco said. “Let’s go get him and collect those Horrors.”

  “Only one little problem,” I said. I motioned to the three guards.

  “I don’t know what you kids are jabbering about,” Gold Badge said, stepping toward us. “And I don’t really care. You’re in a world of trouble.”

  “Trespassing in the park after closing hours,” one of his partners said.

  “You kids should stop talking among yourselves and start thinking about telling us the truth,” the leader said. “Now, let’s move. To the security office.”

  We took a step or two. Then stopped as a high-pitched voice rang out from down the long row of shops.

  “Help me! Somebody!”

  Everyone froze. The voice was shrill and frightened.

  “Help! Help me! I need help! Anybody! HELP ME!”

  The cries seemed to freeze in the air.

  The voice was so terrified, I felt a cold shudder run down my body.

  The three Horror guards took off running, moving heavily along the backs of the shops.

  “This is our chance,” Jessica said. “Move!”

  The guards disappeared into the thick blackness. We started to run along the side of Chiller House toward the front.

  I ran next to Jessica. She couldn’t hide the smile on her face.

  “That was you — wasn’t it?” I said. “You did that voice crying for help?”

  She nodded. Her smile grew wider. “My dad is a ventriloquist. He taught me how to throw my voice.”

  “You totally fooled those guards,” I said.

  We reached the front of the store. Andy lowered his shoulder and pushed the front door open.

  The bell above the door clanged loudly as the six of us burst into the front aisle. Chiller came walking out from the back room.

  He wore a dark brown bathrobe and bedroom slippers. He blinked and his eyes went wide. He was definitely surprised to see us all there.


  “Get out of here,” he said softly, calmly. “The Hunters will be here soon. You will be sitting ducks.”

  “Nice try,” I said. “But we know your secret.”

  “We know you’re all alone.”

  “No, I’m not,” Chiller insisted. He raised his eyes to the door.

  It swung open and the three guards rushed in. They scowled angrily at us.

  “Sorry about this, Mr. Chiller,” the leader said. “They tricked us.”

  “Tell you what,” Chiller told the guards. “Take them to the Bottomless Barbecue Pit and drop them in. Bring them back when they are crispy on the outside and medium well done — okay?”

  “No problem,” the guard said. He turned to us. “Okay, Roast Meat — let’s move.”

  I gasped as the guards moved toward us.

  “You’re really going to barbecue us?” Jessica cried.

  Chiller laughed. “No. I’m joking. I admit it. I have a sick sense of humor.”

  He waved the guards back. “Thanks for your help. But you three can leave,” he said. “I can handle these kids on my own. They are my special guests. I’ll see that they get home safely.”

  The guards frowned and shook their heads. Grumbling to themselves, they turned and disappeared out the front door.

  Chiller stood beside the counter, a tense smile on his face. He still had a smear of Madame Doom’s makeup on one cheek. “Well, well,” he murmured. “Here we are.”

  I took a few steps toward him. “We saw the red chests in your back room,” I said. “Give us the little Horrors and send us home.”

  Chiller’s smile faded. “No, I shall not,” he said. “You haven’t won the game.”

  “Yes, we have,” I insisted. “We know your secret. We know you are all alone.”

  “We know you played all the Hunters,” Marco said, stepping up beside me.

  Chiller’s eyes narrowed behind his old-fashioned square glasses. He stared at us coldly. His mouth turned down in an angry scowl.

  Marco and I took a step back. I didn’t like the menacing expression on the old man’s face. What did he plan to do?

  To my surprise, he let out a loud sob.

  His stern expression fell apart. His whole face appeared to droop.

  “Of course I’m all alone,” he wailed. “I wasn’t allowed to have friends. I had to stay in my room and create my own world. I had to create my own friends.”

  He slammed his fist down on the counter. “The only way I can have friends is if I play them myself!”

  He lowered his head. He stood there muttering to himself.

  I turned to the other kids. Everyone looked surprised. Confused.

  “Are you going to let us go home now?” I asked Chiller.

  He just kept muttering to himself. I don’t know if he even heard me. He had his head down. It was like he was in his own world.

  “We can rush right past him,” Jessica whispered. “We can make a run for the back room. Grab those chests. Pull out the little Horrors and let them take us home.”

  “Yes. Let’s do it,” Marco said.

  Chiller hadn’t moved. Did he hear what we planned to do?

  I motioned everyone forward. Walking quickly, we started down the aisle toward the back room.

  We didn’t get far.

  Suddenly, Chiller pulled himself up straight. He stepped away from the counter. I guess he’d been listening the whole time.

  “This is still my game,” he said. “And guess what. I don’t like to lose!”

  He moved to block the door to the back room. “I’m a hunter! I’m a real hunter!” Chiller screamed at the top of his lungs. “You are my prey. You will not get away!”

  We froze and stared at him as he screamed. What was our next move? What could we do?

  To my surprise, Meg pulled something off a display shelf. Then she dropped to her knees on the floor. I squinted into the light and saw that she had two space alien figures in her hands.

  She stood them on their legs. She made them face each other. She moved their metal arms up and down.

  What is she doing? I wondered. Has she totally lost her mind?

  “What do you think you are doing?” Chiller demanded angrily. He took several heavy steps toward Meg.

  “Can you show me how these work?” Meg asked. “These space aliens are pretty awesome.”

  Chiller stared at her. I could see he was thinking hard.

  Meg moved the two figures on the floor. “How do you make this one move its head?” she asked Chiller. “Do they come with weapons?”

  Marco picked up a small robot figure and dropped next to Meg on the floor. “I’m totally into comic superheroes,” he said. “This looks like a Bot villain from The Ooze.”

  He moved his robot toward Meg’s two aliens.

  I had my eyes on Chiller. Now I knew what Meg and Marco were trying to do. But would Chiller really fall for such a cornball trick?

  Jessica quickly joined in. She picked up three more Bots from the table. “We can have a war,” she told Meg and Marco. She sat down beside them. “Here. Line up your figures.”

  Meg turned to Chiller again. “Will you show us how to work these?”

  No way will this work, I thought.

  To my shock, a smile spread over Chiller’s face. He walked over to Meg and the other two kids on the floor.

  He squatted down and picked up one of Meg’s alien figures. “The controls are inside the head,” he told her. “Watch.”

  He pushed something on the alien’s back, and the head snapped to one side. I saw a row of red and black buttons inside the alien’s neck.

  Chiller began to show them what the different buttons did.

  I shook my head. Was he so desperate for friends that he really believed Meg, Marco, and Jessica were interested in his toys?

  Meg’s plan to distract Chiller seemed to be working. He was down on the floor with them.

  I didn’t hesitate another second. I motioned for Andy and Sam to follow me. Then the three of us took off, running to the back room.

  As we thundered past, Chiller’s eyes bulged in surprise. He stuck out a hand, trying to trip me.

  But I jumped over his arm and kept running.

  I reached the back room easily, with Andy and Sam close behind.

  “Stop! Freeze!” Chiller shouted from the front. “Get out of there! That’s private! Get out!”

  But I dove to the shelf. I grabbed two of the little red chests. I tossed one to Sam. Andy grabbed two more.

  “Get out of there!” Chiller shouted. I could hear him thudding toward us.

  I pulled open the red chest. Reached inside.

  Empty.

  I turned. Andy and Sam held the lids open on their chests.

  Empty. All empty.

  Jonathan Chiller stepped into the doorway. He stood there blocking our way out.

  He smiled a cold smile and quietly said two words.

  “You lose.”

  Chiller stood there blocking our escape. He had beads of sweat on his balding head. His cheeks were red. He was breathing hard.

  “Maybe I like to play games,” he said. “And maybe you think I’m desperate for friends. But I’m not stupid.”

  He narrowed his eyes behind the square glasses. “But now I think we know who the stupid ones are. Did you really think you could escape so easily?”

  “Y-you said it was a game,” I stammered. “You said we could go home when it was over.”

  “I’ve got a few NEW games we could play,” he said in his hoarse, croaky voice. “But I don’t think you’ll like them — because you’re already LOSERS!”

  “Let us go,” I said. “Give us a break. We’ve been here all night. We don’t want to play any more games.”

  That made him laugh. A sick, shrill laugh that sounded like a cough.

  “You don’t have a choice,” he said. “Maybe we shall play the Shrink-A-Head game. Does that sound like fun?”

  We stared back at him. No one
answered.

  “Did you know it’s possible to shrink a head while it’s still on a living body?” His tiny eyes flashed behind the glasses. He rubbed his hands together.

  “You all have such perfectly lovely heads for shrinking. I can shrink them down to the size of a prune. Really, I can. It’s so quick, too. Not exactly painless, but it’s quick. Does anyone want to volunteer?”

  Was Chiller serious?

  In the front room, I could see the greenish-yellow shrunken heads dangling from the ceiling.

  I searched desperately around the little room for a weapon I could use — anything that might get us out of there.

  But there was nothing useful on the dressing table with all its makeup jars and bottles. Nothing useful among all the masks and costumes hanging on the wall.

  Or was there?

  A crazy idea popped into my head. Crazier than Meg picking up the toys and starting to play.

  Friends … Chiller’s friends …

  Desperate for friends … Chiller wouldn’t want to LOSE his friends … His friends …

  Meg had tried a crazy trick. Now it was my turn.

  I dove forward. I pulled the Murder the Clown mask off its hook. The ax bobbed on top of the mask. I slid the mask down over my face. I moved it till I could see out the eye holes.

  “Hey — stop it! Put that down!” Chiller screamed.

  I wrapped the red clown ruffle around my neck.

  I motioned to Sam. He pulled Chef Belcher’s hat onto his head. He tugged the chef’s apron off its hook and began to wrap it around him.

  Jessica pushed Chiller out of the doorway. She ran to the dressing table and pulled on the long black hair of Madame Doom’s wig. She reached for Madame Doom’s long purple scarf.

  Meg slipped on Mondo the Magical’s top hat. She reached for his tuxedo jacket.

  “Stop it! Stop it!” Chiller wailed. His face turned bright red. His eyes bulged till it looked as if they could pop out of his head.

  He made a grab for me. But I ducked away.

  “You can’t do this!” he cried. “Those are my friends! You can’t! You can’t!”

  Wearing our costumes, we began to circle Chiller. And we began to repeat, over and over, in low voices: “Good-bye, Jonathan Chiller … Goodbye, Jonathan Chiller … Good-bye, Jonathan Chiller …”