by R. L. Stine
I didn’t blame him. The explosion was really scary.
And when I realized that we could have all been inside the car when it went off, I had cold chills down my back.
“Maybe there’s a car rental place we can call,” Mom suggested.
Mom is like me, calm in any emergency.
We followed Dad as he went running up to the ticket booth at the entrance. A green monster stood in the booth. He had bulging yellow eyes and dark horns curled over his head. It was a really great costume.
“Welcome to HorrorLand,” he said in a gruff, low voice. A loud stab of organ music rose up from inside the ticket booth. “I am a HorrorLand Horror. All of the Horrors and I hope you have a scary day.”
“My car!” Dad cried frantically. “There was an explosion. I need a phone!”
“I’m sorry, sir. No phones,” the guy in the monster costume replied.
“Huh?” Dad’s face was bright red again. His forehead was drenched with sweat. “But I need a phone! Right away!” Dad insisted, glaring angrily at the green monster. “My car exploded! We’re stuck here!”
“We’ll take care of you,” the Horror replied, lowering his gruff voice nearly to a whisper.
“You’ll what?” Dad cried. “We need a car. I need to get to a phone! Don’t you understand?”
“No phones,” the monster repeated. “But, please, sir. Allow us to take care of you. I promise we will take care of everything. Don’t let this spoil your visit to HorrorLand.”
“Spoil my visit?!” Dad shrieked, his face growing even redder. “But my car —!”
Another loud stab of organ music made me jump. The creepy music made me feel as if I were actually in a horror movie!
“We will take care of you. I promise,” the Horror said. A strange smile crossed his face. His yellow eyes lit up. “Please enjoy your stay, and do not worry about transportation. The other Horrors and I will see that you are properly taken care of.”
“But — but —” Dad sputtered.
The Horror gestured toward the park. “Please enter as our guests. Free admission. I apologize for your car. But, please, do not worry. I promise you will have no need to worry about your car.”
Dad turned back to us, sweat dripping down his forehead. I could see that he was really upset.
“I — I can’t enjoy an amusement park now,” he said. “I can’t believe this happened. I really can’t. We’ve got to get a car somehow, and —”
“Oh, please, Dad!” Luke cried. “Please! Can’t we go inside? He said he’ll take care of it for us.”
“Just for a little while?” I joined my brother in pleading.
“We’ve had such a long drive,” Mom told Dad. “Let’s go in for a short while. Let them blow off some steam.”
Dad thought about it, frowning hard. “Okay. Just for a little while,” he agreed finally.
The organ music grew louder as we stepped through the gate. “Wow! Look at this place!” I cried. “It really is like being in a horror movie.”
We were standing on a brown cobbled street. Strange dark cottages tilted up on both sides of the street. Tall trees along the street nearly blocked out all the sunlight. The air carried a chill.
Low howls, like wolf howls, floated out from the cottages. “Cool!” Luke declared.
A sign proclaimed: WELCOME TO WEREWOLF VILLAGE. DO NOT FEED THE WEREWOLVES. IF YOU CAN HELP IT.
The frightening howls grew louder.
Luke and I laughed at the sign.
I saw a green monster, one of the Horrors, staring out at us through a dark window in the cottage across the narrow street. Another Horror walked past carrying a very real-looking human head. He grasped it by its long blond hair and bounced it up and down, sort of like a yo-yo, as he walked.
“Cool!” Luke proclaimed again. It seemed to be his word of the day.
We walked along the cobbled street. The sound of our thudding sneakers echoed off the cottage walls.
“Ohh!” We all let out cries of surprise as a long, low, gray wolf ran in front of us. It disappeared around the side of a cottage before we really got a good look at it.
“Was that a real wolf?” Clay asked, his voice shaking.
“Of course not,” I told him. “It was probably a dog. Or else it was mechanical.”
“Well, they certainly keep this park clean,” Mom said, trying to sound cheerful. “There isn’t a piece of trash or dirt anywhere. Of course, it isn’t very crowded.”
Dad lingered behind. “I — I’ve got to find a phone,” he said fretfully. “I can’t enjoy this until I know we have a way to get home.”
“But, dear —” Mom started.
“There’s got to be a phone somewhere,” Dad interrupted. “Go on without me.”
“No. I’ll come with you,” Mom said. “You’re in such a frantic state. You’ll need me to make the calls for you. The kids will have a better time without us hanging around anyway.”
“Leave them?” Dad cried. “You mean, let them go on their own?”
“Of course,” Mom said, hurrying back to him. “They’ll be perfectly fine. This looks like a very nice place. What could happen?”
What could happen?
With those words, Mom and Dad rushed off to find a phone.
“Meet back here!” Mom called to us.
Luke, Clay, and I were suddenly on our own.
I turned to watch Mom and Dad hurry away.
I turned back in time to see a gray wolf edging out from behind the cottage. It lowered its head and let out a rumbling warning growl.
All three of us froze as we realized its hungry red eyes were locked on us.
4
I cried out and pulled Luke and Clay back.
The wolf slithered out, holding its head low, glaring up at us with wide red eyes, its mouth open hungrily.
“It — it’s real!” Clay declared, swallowing hard. I had my hand on his shoulder. I could feel him trembling.
The wolf let out a deep growl. Then it slid back behind the cottage wall. “I think it’s some kind of robot or something,” I told Clay.
“Let’s go somewhere else,” Clay replied, suddenly very pale.
“What does that sign up there say?” Luke asked. He went running over the dark cobblestones to the sign, and Clay and I followed. The sign read: NO PINCHING.
Luke laughed. “That’s stupid.”
“What a dumb sign!” Clay agreed.
“That sign was meant just for you, Luke!” I exclaimed. I gave him a hard pinch on the arm.
“Hey! Can’t you read?” he shouted angrily, pointing to the sign.
I saw a green Horror watching us from down the street. Then I saw a family making its way behind the row of cottages. There was a mother, a father, and a little girl. The little girl was crying for some reason. The parents had their hands on her shoulders and looked very upset.
A wolf howl cut through the air.
“Let’s find some rides!” Clay suggested.
“Some scary rides!” Luke added.
Walking side by side, keeping close together, we made our way out of the Werewolf Village. The street widened into a round plaza. Bright sunlight returned as soon as we stepped out of the village.
Several purple-and-green buildings surrounded the plaza. I saw a few more families and several green-costumed Horrors keeping an eye on everything. A pudgy Horror behind a purple-and-green cart was selling ice cream cones — black ice cream!
“Yuck!” Luke declared, making a face.
We hurried past the cart, past another no pinching sign, and stopped in front of what appeared to be a tall purple mountain.
“It’s a ride!” I told them.
A doorway was cut into the side of the mountain. And above the doorway was a sign: DOOM SLIDE. WILL YOU BE THE ONE TO SLIDE FOREVER?
“Cool!” Luke cried, slapping Clay a high five.
“I’ll bet you climb to the top, then slide all the way down,” I said, pointing to the top of the
mountain-shaped building.
“Let’s go!” Luke cried excitedly.
We ran to the building, then through the open doorway in its side. It was dark and cold inside. A wide ramp curved up toward the top.
I could hear kids squealing and laughing, but I couldn’t see them. The three of us half walked, half ran up the ramp, eager to get to the top.
About halfway up, we stopped to read another sign: WARNING! YOU MAY BE THE ONE TO SLIDE TO YOUR DOOM!
Now I could hear kids screaming as they slid down. But it was too dark to see anything. “Are you scared, Clay?” I asked, noticing his tight expression.
“No way!” he insisted, embarrassed by my question. “I’ve seen these things before. They’re like really huge sliding boards. You just sit on them and slide down.”
“Hurry!” Luke shouted, running ahead of us.
“Hey — wait up!” I called. I followed them to the top of the ramp. We found ourselves on a wide platform. A row of long, curving sliding boards stretched to the end of the platform. The sliding boards were numbered from one to ten.
In the dim light, I saw two Horrors watching us approach. They stood in front of the sliding boards. Their bulging yellow eyes lit up as we hurried over to them.
“Do you slide all the way down?” Luke asked one of them.
The Horror nodded.
“Do you go really fast?” Clay asked, lingering a few feet behind us.
The Horror nodded again. “It’s a long way down,” he rumbled.
“Be careful which slide you pick,” the other Horror warned. “Don’t pick the Doom Slide.” He gestured to the number painted in black in front of each slide.
“Yes. Don’t pick the Doom Slide,” his partner repeated. “You’ll slide down forever and ever.”
I laughed.
He was just trying to scare us — wasn’t he?
5
I chose slide number three because three is my lucky number. Luke sat down on top of the slide next to mine, slide number two. And Clay scrambled over to the far end and dropped down onto slide number ten.
I glanced back to see what the Horrors were doing. But before I could focus on them, I felt the bottom tilt underneath me.
I let out a long, high-pitched shriek as I began to slide.
I raised my arms over my head, leaned back, and screamed all the way down. My cries echoed in the enormous dark canyon of the Doom Slide building.
It felt great. The slide curved and curved, and I swirled down in the darkness, faster and faster.
In the shadowy light, I could see Luke in the slide next to mine. He was lying on his back, staring straight up with his mouth wide open.
I tried to call out to him. But the slide curved away, and I curved with it.
Down, down.
I was sliding so fast, the darkness became a solid blur.
The slide curved up, then around, then down again. I’m a human roller coaster, I thought happily.
Down, down. Darker and darker.
I’m sliding faster than the speed of light, I thought.
I glanced from one side to the other, trying to see Luke and Clay. But it was too dark, and I was moving too fast.
Too fast.
And then, bump.
A chute opened up. I hit the ground hard, landing on the seat of my jeans.
Outside. I was back outside.
Bump.
Luke bounced out beside me. He hit the ground, still lying on his back, and made no attempt to get up. He grinned up at me. “Where am I?”
“Back on the ground,” I told him, climbing to my feet. I brushed off the back of my jeans, then reached behind my head to straighten my braid. “Great ride, huh?”
“Let’s go again,” Luke said, still lying there.
“We can’t go again if you don’t get up,” I said.
“Help me.” He reached up a hand.
I groaned as I tugged him to a sitting position. “Get up yourself,” I said impatiently.
“You were screaming in there,” he told me. “I did it on purpose,” I said. “I wanted to scream.”
“Yeah. Sure.” He rolled his eyes. Then he pulled himself to his feet. “Wow. I’m a little dizzy. How fast do you think we were going?”
I shrugged. “Pretty fast, I think. It’s so dark in there, it’s hard to know how fast you’re going.”
And then I realized we were missing a member of our sliding party. I stared at the closed chutes on the wall of the building. “Hey — where’s Clay?”
“Huh?” Luke had forgotten about him, too.
We both stared at the side of the building, waiting for Clay to pop out.
“Where is he?” Luke demanded shrilly. “He couldn’t be that much slower than us — could he?”
I shook my head. I was starting to feel really nervous. I had a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach. And my hands were suddenly cold and clammy.
“Come on, Clay,” I pleaded, staring at the wall. “Come on out.”
Luke scratched his black hair. “Where’d he go?” he asked. “Why didn’t Clay come out?”
“Maybe he came out the front,” I said. “Maybe slide number ten dumps you out in front. Let’s check it out.”
As we ran around the building toward the front, I scolded myself for getting scared so easily. Of course Clay came out in a different chute. He was probably waiting for us in front of the building. He was probably worried about us.
As we rounded the purple building, the wide, circular plaza came into view. I searched for Mom and Dad, but they weren’t there. I saw a couple of other families on the other side of the circle, and the pudgy green Horror leaning on his ice cream cart.
No sign of Clay.
Luke and I kept running, up to the front entrance of the Doom Slide. We stopped a few feet from the dark opening.
“He isn’t here!” Luke cried, struggling to catch his breath.
I was breathing hard, too. And the heavy feeling of dread in my stomach grew even heavier. “No. No Clay,” I muttered.
“What are we going to do?” Luke asked. His blue eyes were wide with fear.
I saw a green Horror woman standing just inside the entrance. “Hey!” I called as I ran over to her. “Did you see a kid come out of there?” I asked breathlessly.
The yellow eyes on the Horror’s mask bulged and appeared to light up. “No. This is the entrance. No one comes out here,” she replied.
“He’s blond and sort of chubby. He wears glasses,” I told her. “He’s wearing a blue T-shirt and denim shorts.”
The Horror shook her head. “No. No one comes out this way. Did you check the back? Everyone comes out the back.”
“He didn’t!” Luke said shrilly. “We were there. He didn’t come out.” My brother’s voice was high and squeaky. He was breathing so hard, his chest was heaving up and down. He was in a panic.
I was frightened, too. But I knew I had to stay calm. For Luke’s sake.
“He didn’t come out the back,” I told the Horror, “and he didn’t come out the front. So what happened to him?”
The Horror was silent for a long moment. Then she said in a low voice just above a whisper, “Maybe your friend chose the Doom Slide.”
6
I stared at the woman in the Horror costume. “You — you’re joking, right?” I stammered. “I mean, the Doom Slide — that’s just a joke.”
She stared back with her bulging yellow eyes and didn’t reply. “The signs give a warning,” she said. “There’s always a warning.”
She turned and disappeared into the dark entrance. Luke and I goggled at each other. I swallowed hard. My throat suddenly felt very dry. My hands were cold as ice now.
“This is stupid,” Luke muttered. He jammed his hands into his jeans pockets. “It’s just a dumb slide. Why is she trying to scare us?”
“I guess that’s her job,” I told him.
“We’ve got to find Mom and Dad,” Luke muttered.
“We’ve got t
o find Clay first,” I told him. “If Mom and Dad find out we lost Clay, they’ll get angry and make us go home as soon as we find him.”
“If we find him,” Luke said glumly.
I glanced back across the plaza. No Mom and Dad. Two teenagers were buying black ice cream cones from the Horror at the cart. Two Horrors were sweeping the plaza with push brooms, working side by side.
Far in the distance, I could hear the howl of a wolf from the Werewolf Village.
The sun was high in the sky now. I could feel it beaming down on top of my head and on my shoulders. But I still felt cold all over.
“Clay — where are you?” I asked, thinking out loud.
“He’s sliding forever,” Luke said, shaking his head. “Sliding forever and ever on the Doom Slide.”
“That’s dumb,” I replied. But Luke had given me an idea. “Come on,” I said, tugging the sleeve on his T-shirt. I started pulling him to the dark entrance.
“Huh? Where?” Luke pulled back.
“We’ll go on the slides again,” I told him.
His mouth dropped open in protest. “Without Clay? We can’t go on it again without Clay.”
“We’re going to find Clay,” I said, grabbing his arm this time and pulling him to the dark open doorway.
“You mean —?” My brother was starting to catch on.
I nodded. “Yes. We’ll follow him. We’ll take the same slide he took.”
“Slide number ten,” Luke murmured. And then he added in a solemn whisper, “The Doom Slide.”
“We’ll take it, and it will lead us right to him,” I said.
We climbed the ramp in silence. The rapid thud of our sneakers echoed in the vast hollow mountain.
We ran past the sign about halfway up to the top. I read it again as I passed it by: WARNING! YOU MAY BE THE ONE TO SLIDE TO YOUR DOOM!
Clay — are you still sliding? I wondered.
I shook my head hard, shaking away the thought. Of course he wasn’t still sliding. What a stupid idea!
The two Horrors were still standing at the top of the slides. “Be careful which slide you pick,” one of them warned.
“We know which one we want,” I said breathlessly. “Slide number ten. Both of us. Together.”