by R. L. Stine
“I’m already gone,” OverTime said. “You have to work overtime to catch me!”
I ducked as another heavy melon came crashing down. It splattered on the floor and sent a wave of goo over my boots.
When I looked up, they were both gone.
I let out a long sigh. I shook my head sadly.
Another horrible defeat.
As a superhero, I was a total failure. And it was all Blue Strawberry’s fault.
Why was she determined to ruin my superhero career? Who was she?
I found out.
After dismissal the next day, my friends George and Walter were on the soccer field behind the school, working on a new horror video. I recognized Mickey and Alonso, even though they were wearing ugly orange masks covered in black warty spots and dangling eyeballs.
“How do we look?” Alonso asked as I trotted over to them.
I pretended to study him. “Did you get a haircut?”
“Ha,” he replied. “You’re a riot, Mason.”
George had his phone raised. He motioned me away with his other hand. “Move it, Mason,” he said. “We’re shooting a scene.”
“What’s this video called?” I asked. “Weirdos on the Playground?”
“You are seriously not funny,” Walter said. “The new video is going to be awesome. It’s called Martians from Montana.”
“Huh?” My mouth dropped open. “How can Martians be from Montana?”
Walter grinned. “See? Got you thinking already! It’s not your typical horror video, Mason. It makes you think. It makes you question things.”
“You wouldn’t understand it,” his twin said.
“This mask is hot,” Mickey complained, lifting it off. “Look. My face is sweating.”
“Put it back,” George told him. “We can shoot the scene—if Mason would just back off.”
I took a couple of steps away. “Okay, okay.”
Across the field, some kids from the elementary school had started a soccer game. Their shouts rang out over the grass.
George groaned and lowered his phone. “Go tell them to shut up,” he told Walter.
“You do it,” Walter snapped. “Why do I have to do it?”
“We’re going to hear them on the video,” George said. “Go tell them to be quiet.”
“Why me?”
“I’m the director today,” George replied. “That means I’m the boss.”
“Give me the phone,” Walter said. He swiped at it. Missed. “I’ll be the director. You go stop their game.”
“I’m the director,” George insisted. “You were the director of Freakazoids from the Planet Freak, remember? And it was seriously boring.”
Walter stuck his chin out. “Was not.”
“Yes, it was.”
“Hey, guys—” Mickey said, pulling off his mask again.
Walter gave George a hard shove. The phone nearly slipped from George’s hand.
George shoved the phone into his pocket. He punched his brother in the stomach.
Walter let out an oooof sound. He doubled over for a second. Then he charged at George and tackled him to the grass.
“Hey, guys—?” Mickey repeated.
I couldn’t believe it. The twins were rolling in the grass, wrestling hard, grunting and groaning.
Are twins always like this?
Alonso had his phone raised and was recording the fight.
That’s when I decided to step in.
I dropped down beside them. Grabbed Walter by the shoulders and struggled to tug him off George.
“Get off me!” he screamed. “Get off, Mason! I’ll pound you! You’re hamburger meat! I mean it!”
I tightened my grip and swung him off his brother. “Hamburger meat?”
George scrambled to his feet, gasping for breath.
I held on to Walter until he started to calm down. Then I let go and climbed to my feet. I had grass stains on my shirt and jeans. Sweat poured down my face.
My first victory, I thought. Score one for the Night Howler!
Forget Dr. Maniac and the supervillains. Maybe I should just break up playground fights from now on.
The two brothers bumped knuckles. George wiped dirt off his chin with the back of his hand.
Alonso waved his phone in the air. “I got it all on video,” he declared. “Maybe we can work a fight scene into the story somewhere.”
“Awesome,” Mickey said through his mask. “These two brothers are so freaked by the Martians from Montana, they go berserk on each other.”
“I didn’t go berserk,” Walter said. “George did.”
“Did not,” George snapped. “You tackled me.”
“You punched me. You went berserk, bro.”
George raised a fist. “You want to see berserk? I’ll show you berserk!”
Mickey tossed his mask to the ground. “I’ve got to get home,” he said. He turned and stomped away.
Alonso shrugged. “He’s right. It’s getting late.” He handed his mask to Walter. His face was bright red and drenched in sweat.
“Okay. Break time,” George said. “Break time, everybody! Be back on the set tomorrow afternoon!”
I think I’m the only one who heard him. Everyone had scattered by that time, even his brother.
I waved. “See you tomorrow,” I said.
A heavy feeling washed over me as I walked home. I knew I wouldn’t be the Night Howler for long if I kept blowing every mission. So far, I’d had fail after fail.
I gritted my teeth and fought back my disappointment. I had to have a victory. I had to defeat the next villain I faced. I promised myself I’d find a way to win.
At home, I climbed the stairs to my room and tossed my backpack onto the bed. Stella’s door was open. “Hey, Stella—are you home?” I shouted.
No answer.
I pulled out my science notebook and carried it to my desk. I started to sit down when I saw something at my dresser. I squinted across the room.
“Something is wrong here,” I murmured out loud. “Something is very wrong.”
The bottom dresser drawer. It was open an inch or two.
I didn’t remember opening it this morning.
I stared at it. Today was Wednesday. Not laundry day. So Mom or Dad would not have opened it.
I stepped away from the desk and glanced around my room. Whoa. Wait.
My closet door. I remembered clearly that I had left it open. I was late for school. In a hurry. I didn’t close the door—but it was closed now.
My muscles tensed. My senses went on high alert.
What was that balled-up pair of socks doing on the floor beside my wastebasket? Had I tossed them there? No. I didn’t think so.
I knew what had happened. I knew someone had been in my room.
And, of course, I knew who that someone was.
“Stella?” I shouted her name again. I stepped out into the hall. “Stella? Are you home?”
No answer.
She must be at her after-school guitar lesson.
I realized my hands were clenched into tight fists. I slowly unclenched them. I told myself to calm down.
Okay. Stella was snooping around in my room.
What was she looking for? Was she just snooping as usual for no reason?
I glanced at the loose floorboard where my costume was hidden. As far as I could tell, the floorboard hadn’t been touched.
I folded my arms in front of my chest. Sometimes that helped me calm down. Then I crossed the hall into Stella’s room.
I clicked on the ceiling light. Stella kept her room perfectly neat at all times. Everything in its place. Her walls were covered with photos and posters of her favorite singers and groups. They were all tacked up straight in neat rows.
Stella makes her bed every morning. How weird is that?
And she doesn’t toss her dirty clothes on the floor like I do. She drops them all in the laundry hamper in the bathroom. Just to make me look bad, I think.
Her laptop was sh
ut. Her desk wasn’t littered with papers and books. Even her stuffed leopard that she used to sleep with stood up straight and alert on the top of her bookshelf.
What a freak!
I glanced all around. Why was I in her room? I wasn’t sure. Was I just paying her back for snooping around in my room?
I turned and started to leave. But I stopped a few feet from the door.
Her closet was open a tiny bit. Without thinking, I started to cross the room.
The door squeaked as I pulled it open wider. Dresses and tops were all neatly hung up. I clicked on the closet light. On the floor, Stella’s shoes were perfectly lined up.
Some old board games were stacked against the back wall. A basketball rested in the corner. My basketball. “So that’s where the little thief hid it,” I murmured.
And then something caught my eye at the far end of the closet. Something red, half-hidden behind some faded jeans, rolled up on the floor.
I ducked low and moved deeper into the closet. I stepped to the back and bent to lift up the red item. Clothing. Folded up into a ball.
Carrying it in my arms, I backed out of the closet. Then I unrolled it under the ceiling light. “Oh, wow!” I murmured.
I stared in shock at the red cape. I let the cape fall to the floor. I unrolled the red tights. And then the long-sleeved top with the blue insignia on the front.
My whole body started to shake. I knew what I was holding.
Blue Strawberry’s costume.
“Stella!” Her name burst from my lips. “Stella!”
Stella was Blue Strawberry!
Hahaha. You know what I always say? Family comes first!
What’s more important than family, everyone?
And if you’re going to have a battle of superheroes, why not keep it in the family?
Know what I would do if I were Mason?
I’d tear a biiiiiiig hole in Blue Strawberry’s costume.
She’d never leave the house in it again! Hahaha.
See? That’s why I’m a superhero. You think I’m just a beauty. But I have brains, too! Hahaha!
My hands trembled as I carefully rolled the costume back into a tight ball. My brain was doing flip-flops. I stepped back into the closet and stuffed the costume where I’d found it.
Then I hurried back to my room. I closed the door and threw myself onto the bed. I covered my head with my hands and shut my eyes.
I felt dizzy. I tried to breathe normally, but my chest was heaving, and my breath came out in fast gulps.
How could this happen?
How could my sister be my archenemy?
I jumped up and started to pace back and forth. I had to think. I had to figure this out.
How did it happen? How?
I thought maybe I knew. Maybe it happened that day we visited the comic art museum. Maybe the same thing that happened to me happened to Stella.
Maybe she met a superhero who wanted to give it up. Like the Night Howler. He didn’t want the job anymore. He convinced me to take it.
Maybe she ran into Blue Strawberry. Maybe Blue Strawberry wanted to retire, too. My sister would grab the chance to take on the job. What a perfect way to show she was better than me!
She knew I was the comic book fan in the family. But now she would be even greater than a fan. She would be an actual supervillain!
I ignored my dizziness as I paced back and forth. She must be having so much fun defeating the Night Howler night after night. And she must be so happy that no one knows her secret.
Well, I knew it now. And I wasn’t going to pretend that I didn’t.
I had to stop her. If I couldn’t, I would never be a success as a superhero.
* * *
A few hours later, the four of us sat around the dinner table. Dad brought home a bucket of chicken. But I could barely choke down a tiny wing.
I kept staring across the table at Stella. She was in a great mood, talking nonstop about a history quiz she had aced, and how she slaughtered some girl in a tennis match after school, and how awesome her guitar teacher is.
She laughed and grinned and joked and didn’t stop yakking.
I knew why she was in such a good mood. And it made me angrier and angrier.
After dinner, I followed Stella up to her room. I closed her door behind me.
She sat down on the edge of her bed and picked up her tablet. She began swiping the screen with her finger. She pretended I wasn’t standing there.
I cleared my throat. “I know what you’re doing,” I said.
She didn’t look up. Just kept swiping.
“I know what you’re doing,” I repeated, speaking more slowly.
She finally glanced up. “Looking at my friends’ Instagram photos?”
“No,” I said. “You—”
“I know, I know,” Stella said, groaning. “I should be doing my homework instead of looking at these. But what do you care?”
I gritted my teeth. “That’s not what I’m talking about, Stella.” My hands were balled into tight fists. I took a deep breath so I wouldn’t explode.
She lowered the tablet to her lap. “What’s your problem, Mason?” she asked. Total innocent face.
“I know you’re Blue Strawberry,” I blurted out.
Her eyes went wide. “WHAT?”
“Blue Strawberry,” I said. “Stop acting dumb, Stella. I know your secret.”
She blinked a few times. Then she squinted hard at me as if studying me. “My secret? I don’t get the joke, Mason.”
She was doing a great acting job. But I knew she was just stalling for time. I saw the costume in the closet. There was no way she could wriggle out of this one.
“Give up,” I said. “I know you’re Blue Strawberry.”
She laughed. “If I’m Blue Strawberry, you’re the Purple Cucumber.”
I stared at her, clenching and unclenching my fists. I felt ready to explode again.
“You’ve been reading too many comic books,” she said.
I spun around and started to cross the room to her closet. My plan was to pull out the Blue Strawberry costume and throw it in her face.
But halfway there, I heard my phone buzz in my room across the hall. The special Night Howler signal. I was being called on another mission.
“Gotta go,” I said. I turned and darted to my room. I left her sitting there, staring at me with that phony innocent look on her face.
I grabbed my phone and read the message on the screen. A villain named Randy Revenge was holding up a fishing goods store. Stealing thousands of dollars’ worth of expensive rods and reels.
I closed my bedroom door and pulled the Night Howler costume from its hiding place.
This was going to be a big night. I already had it planned.
I would go after Randy Revenge and capture him in a shadow. Blue Strawberry would follow me. But this time I’d be ready for her.
Before she could rain down any more fruit on me, I would capture her, too. And I would rip the mask off her face. And show Stella that I could no longer be fooled. Her game was up.
That was my plan.
And it worked. Almost.
I crept out of the house and ran down the front lawn toward the street. Halfway there, I turned back. The light was on in Stella’s room.
Was she getting ready to help Randy Revenge?
I’d read about Randy Revenge in some graphic novels. He was huge and powerful and angry. He had biceps the size of soccer balls. Seriously. He could punch his fist right through you!
Randy had a bad childhood. And now he wanted revenge against the whole world. He got his revenge wherever he could. And his amazing super-strength allowed him to overpower anyone who tried to grab him.
I didn’t plan to grab him. I planned to trap him in a shadow cloud. And tonight, I’d get MY revenge—by defeating Blue Strawberry.
I summoned a shadow and rode it in darkness to the fishing goods store. I stopped across the street and read the sign above the door: BA
IT YOUR HOOK.
The store was dark. But through the big front window, I could see someone moving around in there. Randy Revenge! I heard a hard thud and then a crash. Randy was so big, he was knocking over display cases!
I tossed back my head and uttered the Night Howler howl: “Aaaaaaaaawoooooooooooooh!”
Then I darted across the dark, empty street. Grabbed the door handle at the front of the store. Ripped the door open and burst inside.
In the dim light, I saw Randy in the middle of the store. His gray tights and his cape shimmered like silver. He wore a sleeveless black midriff shirt to show off his muscles.
His arms were filled with fishing rods. He dropped them when he saw me enter. They clattered to the floor all around him.
He spun to face me. “Night Howler!” he growled. He had a deep, gravelly voice. It sounded more like choking than talking. “What are you fishing for? I hope it’s not me!” he boomed.
“I’m fishing for compliments!” I said, sweeping my cape behind me. “All the compliments I’m going to get when I bring you in.”
He snickered and took a few steps toward me. “I like you, Night Howler,” he said. “So I’m going to be kind. I’m not going to torture you. I’m going to finish you off with just one quick punch.”
He took another step closer. He raised his right arm and flexed his enormous bicep. “This will only hurt for a second,” he snarled. “Then nothing will ever hurt you again.”
My heart leaped into my throat. My legs began to tremble. But I knew I had to stay calm. Stay focused. He was big and strong. But I had powers he couldn’t dream of.
“You don’t scare me,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I’m the Night Howler. My shadow will hold you no matter how strong you are.”
I raised both hands to summon a shadow.
He swung his fist. His punch landed like a stone hammer in the middle of my chest.
I heard a ringing sound just before the pain bolted through my whole body.
My legs collapsed.
I crumpled to the floor.
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. A heavy darkness swallowed me.
He killed me.
Well … actually, he didn’t kill me. He knocked me totally unconscious.