by R. L. Stine
“It was an accident,” I said. “I’ll make him understand. I’ll make him give my body back to me.”
“Oswald Manse will never forgive you,” the man whispered. “Oswald Manse is mean. He and his brother were filled with a cruelty so deep, some said they were pure EVIL.”
“Oswald Manse and his brother burned down half this town,” the old woman croaked. “They set it on fire — for fun. People died. So many people …” The old woman’s voice trailed off.
“You’ll never get your body back from Oswald Manse!” the man declared. “Oswald is too mean to give it back!”
“I will get it back!” I shouted. “I don’t care how mean he is! It’s my body — not his! There must be some way I can get it back!”
“There is a way. Tell him. Tell him,” the old woman murmured.
“How?” I cried. “How can I get it back? Tell me!”
“You must discover how on your own,” the man answered.
I tried to get the ghouls to tell me more, but they refused. They took up their slow dance of death.
I stared at them, at their gaunt, lifeless faces. I floated helplessly, watching these shadows of death, watching their ugly, twisted bodies dance — and felt the tug of the force again. It began to pull me back down to the open grave.
I have to get away from this graveyard now! I struggled against the strange force. But how? How am I going to do it without a body … ?
The ghouls continued their silent dance, circling the graves, kicking their stiff legs, hands and arms cracking, raising their skeletal grins to the moon.
I felt myself being pulled down … down to the dark, cold grave.
Then, suddenly, a strong wind picked up.
It swept me away from the ghouls’ unearthly pull.
The wind carried me high over the gnarled trees and swept me with a rush to the ground.
I felt myself spread over the ground, over the thick carpet of dead leaves. And then I heard the leaves begin to rustle and whisper.
A soft sound at first.
Then louder.
A dry crackling. Moving through the leaves. Closer.
The crackling spread. Grew. And became a roar.
Floating in the leaves, I gazed toward the startling sound.
Listening … listening …
Until I saw the rats.
They moved in a dark sea of gray, rushing in waves through the leaves around the gravestones. Dozens and dozens of them, skittering over the ground. Whipping the leaves with their scaly tails. Uttering sharp squeals of hunger.
Scrawny, starving rats, searching for food.
Sniffing at the dirt.
Sniffing at the graves of the dead.
Sniffing for prey.
As I stared in horror, I saw a rabbit scamper out from behind a tombstone.
The rats rushed forward.
The rabbit rose up on its hind legs. Froze in fear.
A tidal wave of coarse gray fur surged over the poor creature. It disappeared in the sea of gray.
It happened so fast.
The rats scattered, busily gnawing on their meal of tender, juicy meat.
In seconds, very little was left of the rabbit.
I stared at the stampeding rats, sickened at the sight.
Sickened — and desperate.
I stared at the rats — and knew what I had to do.
The rats gathered in small clusters, busily gnawing away at their prey.
I need a body, I told myself.
I can’t escape this graveyard without a body.
I am only air. I will be forced to float here forever. Or else I will be pulled back down into the grave.
Can I invade a body the way the ghoul invaded mine?
Can I take over another body?
Underneath me, a rat stood by itself, stomach bloated, its red eyes glowing in the dark.
A wave of sickness washed over me.
Am I really thinking of invading that rat’s body?
I turned away from the creature. The thought was too frightening, too disgusting.
Spencer, you have to warn your family, I realized. Oswald Manse is mean. Your family could be in danger. And whatever he does — you’ll be blamed. He’s in your body!
Try! I instructed myself. Try to possess that rat.
It will take you out of here. It will take you to your home.
And then …
And then what?
Let’s take it one step at a time, I decided.
Feeling sick, nearly frozen with fear, I turned back to the rat beneath me.
And dove forward.
As I plunged down, the rat’s beady eyes jerked up — as if it could see me.
Its tail twitched.
It turned — as if to run.
Before it could move, I forced myself onto its head.
I remembered how the ghoul had pressed itself down over me. Starting at my head, it had pushed inside. Down. Down …
Could I do the same thing to this rat?
I concentrated. Down … down … through its fur. Through its skin. Into the body.
Tight. It was so tight in here. Tight and hot. I tried to make myself smaller.
Concentrate … concentrate.
I could feel the rat twisting and turning. It squirmed. And squealed in terror.
It threw its head from side to side, trying to shake free of me.
I concentrated harder. Fixed my thoughts on burrowing inside. Deeper. Deeper.
The rat thrashed on the ground. It rolled violently, left and right. It shook its body fiercely.
Then the body quaked in a final shudder — and the creature went limp. It slumped to the ground, totally still.
I gazed around me. So hot in here. Hot and wet.
I tried to focus. Everything was a gray blur.
I blinked my eyes. I had eyelids. Real eyelids — attached to a real body!
I let out a cry. “I did it! I’m INSIDE the rat! I took over the rat’s body!”
I moved my legs — my four short legs.
Yuck.
I let out a squeal. “I don’t want to be a rat. I want to be me.”
Don’t think about it now, I scolded myself. Don’t think about anything but getting home and warning everyone about the evil ghoul.
I turned, still testing my legs.
I took a deep breath — then took off.
I ran through the grass. My whiskers brushed up against the tall blades. The grass tickled me. My stomach rubbed the dirt as I ran.
I’m a rat! I told myself.
I’m smelling the air like a rat. And seeing everything through rat eyes. The wind brushed through my fur. My tail trailed in the air behind me.
A million strange sensations. I tried to ignore them as I scuttled over the grass, out through the graveyard gate.
“Someone — help me. Help me!”
I stopped as I heard a faint voice calling from behind me.
Startled, I perked up my ears.
Was someone calling out to me? Who was calling for help?
I stared into the darkness, struggling to focus my strange new eyes.
No one. No one there.
So I scurried on.
“Help me … please …” I heard the small voice again.
No time, I thought. I can’t go back there.
I turned and trotted down the hill.
What would I find when I returned home? Was Oswald Manse as mean as the ghouls said?
Would I be able to figure out how to get my body back from him?
Or was my body lost to me forever?
The dry leaves scraped against my belly as I hurtled down Highgrave Hill toward home. My sharp claws pierced the dirt as I ran.
Running so low to the ground felt strange. The trees, even the blades of grass, towered over me. I felt so small — so defenseless.
But my sense of smell was strong. Too strong. The smell of the dirt stung my nostrils.
I ran and ran.
&nbs
p; A night crawler poked its head up from the ground in front of me. I stopped to watch it.
It slithered out of its dark hole and slowly wriggled toward me.
My whiskers twitched as I inhaled its sweet aroma. Mmmmm. A fat, juicy worm.
Before I could stop myself, I pounced. I sank my teeth deep into the worm’s rubbery skin.
Its sweet juices washed over my tongue. I chewed furiously. Chewed it into pulp, swallowing rapidly.
Then I licked the fur around my mouth to collect the last drop of its dark liquid.
What have I done? I thought in horror. I ate a worm! And I liked it!
With the sweet taste still in my mouth, I started to run again.
I ran quickly, but my short rat legs didn’t cover much ground. My lungs burned, but I pushed harder.
Home, home. You’re going home. I tried to cheer myself on. But what am I going to do when I get there? I wondered.
How am I going to warn everyone? I’m a rat!
Don’t think about that now, I told myself, panting. You still have your brain, Spencer. You’ll figure it out when you get there.
I scampered over a rotted log. Wet mold clung to my fur. I shook myself hard and kept running.
My heart pounded. My throat burned.
Finally, the ground leveled off. Houses came into view, rising over me like enormous castles.
I stopped to catch my breath. Where am I? I wondered. Down so low, the houses didn’t look familiar. The blades of grass were as thick as a jungle. The chitter and hiss of insects were deafening.
I scampered through backyards, staring up at the dark windows. As I ran, my stomach churned and growled.
I’m hungry again, I realized. In fact, I’m starving.
That big worm didn’t fill me up. I have to find food. I have to eat — now!
The hunger felt overwhelming. It blocked out all other thoughts.
Find food … Find food …
I stood up on my hind legs and sniffed, my whiskers twitching.
Yes! My nostrils filled with a strong aroma of food.
Dropping back to all fours, I saw an overturned garbage can, silvery in the moonlight.
Yes! Yes! My stomach churned harder. A thick gob of drool ran from my open mouth.
I plunged through the grass and leaped into the spilled garbage. Yum! Big chunks of hamburger! Old hamburger, already turning green. The delicious odor of the rotting meat made me drool even more.
I grabbed up a big chunk in my front paws and shoved it greedily into my mouth. The decaying meat slid down my tongue. I grabbed another hunk.
A scrabbling sound made me spin around.
I saw two red eyes in front of me. Heard a hiss of warning. Then I felt a hard swipe, a scratching blow across my throat.
I uttered a shrill cry and staggered back.
Another rat! Two rats. No. More!
They swarmed over the garbage. Grabbing up chunks of the rotten meat. Chewing. Chewing loudly, gobs of drool running from their mouths.
And as they hungrily devoured the meat, they circled me. Red eyes glowing, they moved in. Chewing, chewing the whole time, they closed in on me.
And raised their claws to fight.
I tried to fight them off. A shrill warning hiss burst from my throat. I raised my claws and thrashed the air.
Two squealing rats jumped me, one from the front, the other from behind.
I felt sharp teeth dig into the fur on my shoulder.
With a squeal, I dodged under them. Pulled back hard and swiped my claws furiously in front of me.
Why are they attacking me? I wondered. I’m a rat. I’m one of them!
Maybe they can sense that I’m different, I thought. Maybe they can tell I’m not exactly like them.
What am I going to do? I wondered. I can’t fight them all!
With a shrill cry, a rat leaped for my throat. Claws scraped over my back.
I jumped free. Backed up. Backed up till I couldn’t move.
I’m trapped, I realized. Trapped against the back wall of the house.
A line of red eyes glared at me as the rats swarmed in for the kill.
My whole body shuddering, I pressed my back against the stone wall. And saw the cable a few inches to my right.
The slender cable-TV cord. My eyes followed it up along the rain gutter.
The rats were squealing excitedly. Claws scraping the air. Jaws moving up and down beneath glowing eyes.
I made my jump before they attacked. Grabbed the cable with both front claws. Skittered up the cable. Scrambled over the rain gutter to the rooftop.
I landed on the cold shingles with a loud PLOP.
My heart pounding, I scrambled to my feet. I didn’t glance down. I ran across the roof, up one slanted side, then down the other. To the front of the house.
Then I hid in the wet, leafy gutter. Catching my breath. Listening. Sniffing. All my senses alert.
When I was certain the rats hadn’t followed me up, I peered over the side of the gutter. To my surprise, I saw my house on the other side of the street.
Home! My heart thudded joyfully.
I gazed at it, trembling, as if I’d never seen it before.
And then, taking a deep breath, I scuttled down the gutter to the ground. And darted through the wet grass and across the street.
I stopped in the front yard. The house stood in darkness. I raised my eyes to my bedroom window. Dark.
Was the ghoul asleep in my bed?
Was my family okay?
I had to get inside. But how?
I started around the side of the house.
But a tingling feeling made me stop. My fur stood on end. My skin prickled.
DANGER!
All my senses were warning me — DANGER!
My body became a warning system. I knew I should be afraid. But I didn’t know why.
I sniffed the night air. Sniffed the strong aroma of an animal approaching.
I sniffed again. Sniffed it coming closer.
My fur stood up straight. I heard footsteps. Rapid footsteps, advancing quickly.
I jerked my head around. My ears twitched as the footsteps grew louder.
I stared into the darkness — and I saw him.
First I saw his eyes. Large green eyes glowing like headlights in the dark.
Then I saw his whiskered face. His slender trunk. His paws, moving so stealthily over the grass.
A cat.
Duke. Our black cat.
I let out a sigh of relief. Duke wouldn’t hurt me.
Duke trained his green eyes on me. He arched his back.
But I’m not me, I remembered. I’m a rat.
My whiskers twitched. My body trembled.
Duke’s fur stood straight up. His lips curled back. He hissed loudly — and pounced.
I tried to dart away, but he was too fast.
His claws closed around me. He pinned me to the ground.
I shrieked as his claws dug deep beneath my fur.
Duke held me down. He leaned over me. I could feel his hot breath on my fur.
I tried to wriggle free, but I couldn’t move.
“Duke — it’s me! It’s Spencer!” I tried to scream.
But only tiny squeaks came out.
And then the cat lowered his head.
I stared up helplessly as his jaws swung open.
His teeth clamped down. Clamped down. Clamped down.
The sharp teeth dug into my chest.
And then slid down my body and dug into my fleshy tail.
Whoooa.
The cat lifted me off the ground. And holding my tail in his teeth, began swinging me … swinging me back and forth.
The ground tilted up. The black sky swept down. The cat swung me wildly.
This is it, I thought. I’m going to die in a rat’s body, chewed to death by my own cat.
Noooo …
I felt myself swinging … swinging upside down.
I struggled to focus.
&nb
sp; I’m not going to die like this, I told myself. I won’t let it happen.
“Eeee eeee eeeeh.” I squealed in panic as the cat swung me hard. My tail throbbed with pain. The pain shot up my body.
Another hard swing.
I shot out both front paws.
And grabbed the fur on the back of the cat’s neck. With a loud groan, I dug my claws deep into his fur. Held on tight.
The startled cat shot open his mouth.
My tail slid out from between his teeth.
Gripping the cat’s fur, I hoisted myself onto his back.
Duke howled in protest. Arched his back. Rose up on his hind legs.
Bouncing on the cat’s writhing, tossing back, I held on.
And pulled myself up to his head.
I knew what I wanted to do. But could I hold on long enough?
The cat yowled and tossed his head.
Holding on tightly, I shut my eyes. And pushed.
Pushed down … down into deep darkness.
Duke’s furious yowling seemed to surround me. I plunged deeper, deeper into the sound.
Down …
Down …
And when I opened my eyes, I stared down at the rat.
Yes. I stared down at the rat, sprawled on its side, dead on the grass.
I tossed my head back and let out a long meeeeow. Then I bent down and picked the dead rat up in my teeth. I carried the rat to the back of the house and dropped it beside the kitchen door.
Sorry, Duke, I thought. Sorry to push you out of your body like that, boy. But I need it more than you do.
There are lives at stake. Many lives at stake.
I lowered my head and bumped open the little cat door.
Wow! I stood in the kitchen with all its familiar smells. So warm and clean.
I gazed around, purring, so happy to be back here. My eyes swept over the sink, the kitchen table, the refrigerator. I spotted my homework assignment on the kitchen counter.
Yesssss!
So warm and cozy in here, I felt like curling up in my basket near the radiator. I yawned and stretched.
No. No time, I reminded myself.
There’s a ghoul in this house. In my body.
Shaking away my sleepiness, I padded through the hall. Then I took the stairs two at a time.
I charged through Mom and Dad’s open bedroom door. I jumped onto the foot of their bed.
They lay sound asleep, blankets pulled up to their chins. Dad snored softly. Long strands of Mom’s dark hair had fallen over her face.