Wanted

by R. L. Stine

  I grabbed her by her tiny shoulders. “Where are you going, little girl?” I snarled. “I’m going to help you. I’m going to help you eat all your candy!”

  I snatched her trick-or-treat bag from her hands. Shoved her aside.

  Then I frantically ripped the bag to pieces.

  Candy bars flew everywhere. I grabbed them as they fell. Swiped them off the ground — and jammed them into my mouth, grinding them up … gobbling them … gobbling — wrappers and all — crushing them in my huge, pointed teeth.

  The little girl was sobbing loudly now. Her face was all wet and twisted in fear.

  It made me laugh. I spotted her sparkly tiara on the ground. Picked it up and plunked it on my smooth, bald head.

  Then I ran off, tore full speed down the street. Laughing my head off. Laughing in a high, shrill animal voice. Letting the cold air rush at my burning face. My burning, ugly face.

  I ran hard and fast. Ran like a wild creature, past the tall, silent trees and the dark houses.

  Ran till I couldn’t hear her unhappy cries anymore.

  I had to stop to catch my breath. Where was I? I didn’t recognize the houses. The moon was still behind the clouds. Darkness covered the street signs.

  Got to get control.

  Got to do an act of kindness before I completely disappear and become this evil creature forever.

  Up ahead, I heard a car door slam. I turned and saw a young man standing beside a small SUV. He was shaking his head and muttering under his breath.

  I took a few steps toward him. As I came closer, I saw that he was staring down at a flat tire. Angrily, he slammed his fist on the car hood.

  I walked closer. He gasped when he saw me. My face must have scared him.

  “That’s a really frightening mask,” he said. “You startled me.”

  “Happy Halloween,” I grunted.

  “Not too happy for me,” he said. “I’m miles from home and look.” He pointed to the flat tire.

  I nodded. What did he want me to say?

  He waved a cell phone in front of me. “My phone is out of power. I can’t call anyone to come change the tire.” He squinted at me. “Do you have a phone I can use?”

  I shrugged. “Sorry.”

  “Hey, how old are you? Aren’t you out awfully late by yourself?”

  Why was this guy asking me so many questions? The anger started to build up inside me.

  Stay calm. Stay in control.

  “I’m going to a party,” I lied in my raspy voice. “A few blocks from here. My parents know where I am.”

  He thought for a moment. “Would you do me a big favor?”

  “Do you mean an act of kindness?” I asked.

  That made him laugh. “Yeah, I guess. Could you stay here and watch my car? I’ve got a lot of valuable things in the trunk.”

  “Stay here?” I said.

  “Just for a minute or two. I’m going to run over to those houses over there and see if anyone will let me use their phone. I can’t lock the car. The locks are broken.”

  “No problem,” I grunted. “I’ll wait here. It’s an act of kindness, right?”

  He nodded. “Yes. Thank you.” He squinted at me. “Isn’t that mask really tight?”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “Really.”

  “Okay. Be right back.” He took off running. I spotted a house with its lights on about half a block away.

  I leaned my back against the SUV. I shut my eyes.

  I’m doing an act of kindness.

  If only I could fight off the evil power from the mask. The evil power that invaded my mind. I could feel it now, waves of evil, red-hot anger, muscle-gripping fury.

  I gritted my teeth. I tightened every muscle in my body. I concentrated … concentrated on pushing back my evil thoughts.

  But …

  “Here’s an act of kindness!” I howled.

  I bent down and gripped the flat tire in both hands. Then with all the strength of my unspeakable anger, I ripped the tire off the car!

  I heaved the tire into the street. It bounced to the other curb.

  Then I tossed back my head and laughed. I couldn’t keep the horrible laughter inside me.

  I could feel the blood pulsing in my veins now. Pulsing in my head. Throbbing like a crazy drumbeat.

  I leaned over the rear tire, grabbed it — and ripped it off the car. I heaved it beside the other one.

  Panting like an animal, I moved to the other side of the car. I pulled the other two tires off and slammed them to the ground.

  I turned and saw the young man returning, walking slowly down a driveway.

  Wiping my hands on the sides of my costume, I turned again and bolted away.

  I heard him call to me, but I didn’t look back. I ducked my head and ran into the late-night breeze. Ran to darkness.

  Darkness.

  Where I belonged.

  How can I do an act of kindness when the evil of the mask overpowers me each time?

  Is there a way to trick it?

  I stopped when I recognized the house across the street from me. Polly’s house. The lights still on. The living-room window glass shattered, glittering shards on the lawn.

  Polly’s house. Where my night of horror had started.

  And where it was about to continue.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Polly’s mother dropped the vacuum cleaner hose and glared angrily at me.

  Polly had a plastic garbage bag in her hand. She was collecting pieces of glass and lumps of food off the floor. She had changed into jeans and a gray sweatshirt.

  The living room was still a horrible mess. The food table still lay on its side. The rug was stained and spotted with food and spilled drinks. It looked like a hurricane had blown through.

  Hurricane Lu-Ann.

  “Go away, Lu-Ann,” Polly said through gritted teeth. “Why did you come back? You’re not welcome here.”

  “I’ll call the police,” her mom said. “They were already here once. They couldn’t believe the damage one girl could do.” She sighed. “My insurance company won’t believe it, either.”

  “You ruined my party,” Polly said in a trembling voice. “We all … we all just wanted to have some fun. And you ruined it!”

  They both narrowed their eyes and scowled at me.

  “I … I’m so sorry,” I murmured. “I came back to apologize. And to help clean up.”

  “We don’t want your help,” Polly’s mom said.

  “Why did you do it, Lu-Ann?” Polly asked.

  “I … don’t know,” I answered. “I can’t explain it.”

  “Do you hate me? I thought we were friends.”

  “I don’t hate you, Polly,” I said. “It’s just …”

  “Why do you still have that horrible mask on?” her mom demanded. “Take it off. It’s not funny. It’s making me sick. Really.”

  “I can’t take it off!” The words burst out of me. “Don’t you see?” I screamed. “It won’t come off!”

  “That’s not funny,” Polly said. “I thought you came back to help us. So why are you telling such a stupid lie?”

  “It’s not a lie,” I said, trying to calm down. “Look at me, Polly. Look —”

  Her mom let out a long sigh. “Just go home, Lu-Ann. You’ve done enough damage for one night.”

  She turned to the living-room window. Gusts of cold wind blew in through the open hole. “I can’t get anyone out here this late to cover up the window. It’s freezing in here. Look what you’ve done. Just look what you’ve done.”

  “I can help,” I said.

  She was right. I’d done a horrible thing. But she wasn’t trying to understand. She didn’t want to believe me about the mask. She said I was a liar.

  A liar … a liar … a liar …

  “I can help,” I said. “Watch.”

  I picked up a long-handled broom. And I swung the handle into a table lamp. The lamp cracked and toppled off the table, shattering on the
floor.

  Then I swept the broom over the mantel, knocking all the little pumpkins to the floor. I walked over them and stomped hard on them, smashing their pumpkin goo into the carpet.

  Then with my incredible evil strength, I pushed the tip of the broom handle into the back of the couch. It split the leather and slid right through the couch, and poked out of the other side.

  “See how I can help?” I screamed.

  Polly and her mom were running around in frantic circles, shouting and wailing in a total panic.

  “Go home, Lu-Ann! Go home! Go home! You’re sick!” Polly shrieked, her face bright red, her eyes bulging in horror and disbelief.

  Her mom grabbed the phone. I knew she was calling the police.

  All I wanted to do was apologize and help them clean up the mess I’d made. But I couldn’t control myself. The Haunted Mask was telling me what to do. Forcing me to do its evil.

  I tipped over the coffee table. Then I picked up the vacuum cleaner cord and tore it in half.

  Polly came charging at me and tried to tackle me. I spun away and darted to the stairs.

  Breathing hard, I ran all the way up to the attic. The lamp was still on. The black-and-gold chest sat open near the wall. Costumes were strewn over the floor. The closet door was closed.

  The closet …

  Once again, I pictured the ghost inside the closet. The terrifying ghost that had grabbed me and tried to pull me inside.

  Suddenly, I had a crazy idea.

  I took a few steps toward the closet door, thinking hard.

  That hideous old ghost … I never had a chance to warn Polly about him.

  Maybe I could scare the ghost away. Maybe I could use the evil of the Haunted Mask to chase the ghost from the closet.

  That would be an act of kindness for Polly and her mother, right? That would be an act of unbelievable kindness. The kind Marcus’s dad was talking about.

  My hand trembled as I reached for the closet door. But before I could pull it open, I heard a sound. I turned and saw Polly at the top of the steps.

  She gazed around the long room until she found me. “Lu-Ann, hear those sirens?” she said. “Those are the police. Coming for you.”

  Yes. I could hear them. Very faint. Far away. But getting closer.

  I didn’t have much time. I squeezed the handle to the closet door.

  Polly came running toward me. “What are you doing? Lu-Ann, get away from there. The police will be here in minutes. You can’t hide in that closet.”

  “I … don’t want to hide,” I murmured. “I’m going to do you a big favor. There’s a ghost —”

  I tugged the closet door open.

  Polly burst up beside me. “Get away. Get out of here.”

  “Wait,” I said. “I —”

  I didn’t get to finish my sentence.

  A bony hand shot out of the darkness of the closet and wrapped its skeletal fingers around Polly’s shoulder.

  “Huh?” A startled cry escaped her throat as a second hand grabbed on to her.

  The old ghost appeared in the closet doorway with his cracked skull, patchy skin, and sunken eyes. “So lonely …” he groaned.

  I saw him tighten his grip on Polly. Tighten it until she screamed.

  “Help me! Oh, help! He’s got me! He’s pulling me! Help me! He’s pulling me into the closet!”

  And as I stared, frozen in horror, the disgusting old ghost gave a hard tug.

  And Polly vanished into the darkness.

  “Hahahahahaha!”

  A burst of evil laughter escaped my throat. I tossed back my head and laughed.

  No, Lu-Ann. Fight the evil. Fight it.

  I clamped a hand over my mouth, struggled to hold in the laughter.

  Fight the evil, Lu-Ann.

  I forced myself to move. I lurched forward and stumbled into the closet. Blinking in the dark, I spotted the old man, now with his hands around Polly’s waist, pulling her … dragging her deeper into the closet.

  “So loooooonely …” he moaned.

  “No way!” I shouted.

  I wrapped my arms around Polly and pulled her free. Then I leaped at the old ghost. Tackled him around his bone-hard waist.

  A squeak escaped his ragged throat. “The mask … Nooo … The mask …” He went down hard.

  I heard the crack of bones. He let out a soft wisp of air. One leg cracked and split off his body. It came sliding out from his black pants leg.

  I lifted myself off him. In time to see his head crack in two. It rolled off his bony neck. Rolled against the wall with the sunken eyes staring straight up.

  He didn’t move.

  Polly stood with her hands wrapped around her chest. Shaking. Eyes rolling in her head.

  I grabbed her gently and led her out of the closet, into the light of the attic. “You’re okay,” I whispered, smoothing her hair off her face. “Polly, you’re okay now.”

  “Thank you, Lu-Ann,” she said.

  I grabbed at the mask over my face. I knew I had done it. Saving Polly from the ghost had to be an act of unbelievable kindness.

  I tugged both sides up.

  Come off. Come OFF.

  I fumbled for the bottom of the mask. Struggled to lift it up. To slide the tight, hot mask up my face.

  No.

  Not happening.

  Please … please come off!

  Saving Polly wasn’t enough. Or had Mr. Wright lied? Had he given me the wrong solution?

  No. Why would he do that?

  He was an expert on all kinds of masks. He would know how to remove the Haunted Mask.

  I tried one more time. I tugged at it. I twisted it. I pinched it hard and pulled.

  Noooooo.

  The mask was my skin now. My skin. My hideous green skin.

  The sirens grew very loud. The police were on Polly’s block now. Seconds away.

  I took off running. Down the two flights of stairs. Through the back hall and out the kitchen door.

  I ran as fast as I could, the sirens blaring in my ears.

  Faster … Faster …

  I ran to the street. Ran past houses and yards. Ran till I saw only a stream of dark colors all around me. Ran under the cold glow of the Halloween moon.

  Ran … Ran …

  But to where?

  Where could I go?

  My three least favorite things in the world?

  Soggy Oreo cookies.

  Homework on any day of the week.

  Walking in a pumpkin field at night.

  So here I was, Devin O’Bannon, walking through an endless pumpkin field on a cold October night. No moon in the sky. And chilly gusts of wind that made the fat pumpkin leaves scrape and slap one another.

  And just to make the moment perfect, my twin sisters, Dale and Dolly, both six, tagging along. Pulling my hand, tugging me through the tangles of disgusting leaves and vines, tripping and singing, and laughing at their older, wiser brother — as always.

  Did I wish I was back home, sitting on my friend Lu-Ann’s couch, tossing down handfuls of popcorn and trading insults with her?

  Three guesses.

  But like I said, here I was, walking through the pumpkin field with my sisters. My Number Three least favorite thing to do. Mainly because pumpkins are so creepy. I mean, have you ever looked at pumpkin leaves?

  They are big dudes. Fat and kind of round. They remind me of baseball gloves. They look like they’re about to grab you and pull you and suck you inside them. You know. Like those snapping plants that like to eat flies.

  And those fat, ugly leaves are noisy, too. When the wind comes up and they slap against one another, it sounds like hands clapping. Weird.

  Clap clap clap clap. A whole field of hands clapping.

  And you know why they’re clapping? Because they’ve just grabbed some poor victim and sucked him inside the vine.

  Okay, okay. Maybe that’s not true. Dad says I have a runaway imagination. And that’s what I’d like to do. Run away. Because t
his pumpkin farm is creepy with a capital C.

  And I haven’t even started to talk about the vines. They’re mostly hidden beneath the fat, clapping leaves. That’s so you can trip over them more easily.

  Pumpkin vines are thick and long. Wider around than snakes. Really. That’s exactly what they look like. Long, thick snakes with pumpkins growing at one end.

  Yuck — right?

  And that’s not all that’s scary about this farm. There’s a huge black cat named Zeus who follows us everywhere. Zeus has the most evil stare I’ve ever seen. Talk about bad luck. He definitely has the Evil Eye.

  And he follows me silently. Watching … always watching.

  Then there’s Mrs. Barnes. She’s the housekeeper and cook who came with the farm. Mrs. Barnes is a big, round woman with long black braids that go all the way down her back. Like vines.

  Her face is round and her body is round. As if she’s built of pumpkins!

  But I’m being unfair. She is actually very nice. She has a warm, friendly smile and a soft voice, and she gave me an extra stack of pancakes this morning, which were great.

  But not great enough — because here I was on this cold October night a week before Halloween, walking with my sisters in this endless field of pumpkins.

  “This is so awesome!” Dolly exclaimed. She did a little dance on the soft, mushy ground.

  It’s such a pain to have a sister who is wrong all the time.

  It’s an even bigger pain to have two sisters who are always wrong.

  But they’re both cute as they come, with ring-lets of blond hair and big blue eyes, giggly laughs, little turned-up noses, and dimples in their chins.

  Dad calls them little leprechauns.

  Leprechauns come from Ireland, where he was born. And he means it as a compliment. But I looked up leprechauns online, and it said they were little creatures who do a lot of mischief.

  Dolly and Dale started dancing around a big pumpkin, singing some dumb Halloween song. Dale grabbed me and tried to pull me into their circle to do the dance with them.

  Like that was really going to happen.

  Let’s be honest. I was totally creeped out in this field. I mean, it was very dark and there could be hundreds of real snakes slithering along the snaky vines. And all kinds of other creatures.