The vampire climbed out of the bush and ran on. Luke began to follow, when a hand burst out of the soil and grabbed his ankle. A head appeared beside the hand: a head with green cracked skin, broken teeth and dull eyes. Luke had played enough computer games to know what had hold of his leg.
It was a zombie.
Chapter Four
The Transformation
“Resus!” yelled Luke. His voice was swallowed up by the howling wind and the vampire continued running, unaware that he was now alone.
Luke turned back to try to free his leg. The hand that gripped it was covered in scabs and sores. Broken fingernails were blackened with dirt and dried blood. If he tried to pull free, he was likely to be scratched and possibly infected with some terrible disease.
Luke gazed into the zombie’s milky eyes. The creature grinned at him, revealing a mouth crawling with lice and maggots. A cockroach scuttled out of a nostril and up into the zombie’s left ear, dragging a trail of black snot behind it.
“Dude!” the zombie said. “What’s the scoop?”
Luke stared at the hideous creature. Had it really spoken to him? Surely zombies were more interested in consuming your brains than engaging you in conversation?
“Excuse me?”
“Everything’s, like, whizzing around, man!” continued the monster. “Caught me off guard and I totally lost my leg!”
“It’s, er, a poltergeist attack,” explained Luke. “They’re known to have a bit of a temper, apparently.”
“Poltergeist…” mused the zombie aloud. “Bogus, dude!”
“Absolutely!” agreed Luke, gesturing towards the creature’s grip on his ankle. “But I’m afraid this is my leg, not yours.”
“No way!”
“Yes,” said Luke. “Sorry.”
Resus reappeared beside him. “I wondered where you’d got to.”
“Busy meeting the locals,” said Luke.
“What’s the matter, Doug?” Resus asked.
“It’s totally tripping me out, man!” replied the zombie. “The new dude here reckons this leg is his!”
“It is,” said Resus. He peered through the hedge and spotted something wedged behind a garden gate. “I think you’ll find this leg is yours,” he added, retrieving the green-skinned limb.
“Far out, little vampire dude!” beamed Doug. The zombie released Luke’s ankle and began to sink back into the ground. “Turf!” he yelled as the hole closed in over his greasy, matted hair. “I found it! Get the sewing kit, man!”
As Resus helped him to his feet, Luke made a mental note to be much kinder to computer-game zombies from now on.
The road widened into a square. Luke noticed there were other roads leading away from it: eight in total. Scream Street was shaped like a giant spider.
Standing proudly on one side of the square was a large shop: a brightly lit sign announced that this was Everwell’s Emporium. Resus pushed open its silver doors and stepped inside. A bat tethered to a perch above the doorway let out a piercing squeal to announce the arrival of another customer.
Luke had barely followed him in when a shining sphere shot straight for his head, and he had to duck to avoid being hit. The fortune-teller’s crystal ball shattered into a thousand pieces against the door frame. The shop was in chaos: glass bottles and coloured gems soared around the ceiling as the poltergeist attack continued to grow in strength.
In the centre of the shop stood a small figure wrapped from head to toe in bandages. It gazed intently into a handheld mirror, ignoring the mayhem around it.
“Cleo?” said Resus. “What are you doing here?”
The girl shoved the mirror out of sight and rubbed furiously at a pink stain on the dressings around her mouth. “I, er, just came to see if Eefa had finished putting her spell together!”
Resus stared at her. “Are you wearing lipstick?” he asked.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” replied Cleo, pulling bandages up from her chin to conceal the colourful blemish.
“You’re a mummy!” Luke exclaimed.
“Not yet,” replied the girl. “I’m much too young to have children!”
“No, I meant—”
“Just messing with you!” The mummy punched him playfully on the arm. “I’m Cleo,” she said. “You must be the new kid.” The trio jumped as a shelving unit crashed to the floor behind them. “What a welcome to Scream Street this is!”
“He’s a werewolf,” announced Resus.
Cleo’s eyes widened. “What, with all the claws and howling and stuff?”
Luke nodded.
“Cool!”
“Where’s Eefa?” asked Resus.
“In here!” shouted a voice. Eefa Everwell appeared from a doorway at the back of the shop, protecting herself from flying objects with a circular tray. Luke blinked. This was a witch? Instead of the wart-covered hag he had imagined, Eefa Everwell was stunningly beautiful.
Pure white hair streaked with silver ran down her back. Her flawless skin was complemented by her dark violet lipstick and nail polish. Eyes the colour of emeralds smiled at Luke.
Resus reached over and closed Luke’s mouth. “Don’t worry,” he said, grinning. “Eefa has this effect on everyone. It’s some kind of enchantment charm. You’ll soon learn to ignore her.”
Luke had just decided he wanted nothing more than to stare at this vision of beauty for the rest of his life, when a lamp shaped like a dragon bounced off his head, jolting him back to reality. Cleo grabbed his hand and dragged him behind the counter. Resus and Eefa joined them.
“Have you finished the spell, Eefa?” asked Cleo.
“Almost,” the witch said, gesturing towards a scroll of parchment whirling around the centre of the shop, “but it was pulled out of my hands when the attack started.”
“I’ll get it!” shouted Cleo. Before anyone could stop her, the mummy had climbed on top of the counter and jumped into the commotion beyond. A windchime crashed down from the ceiling and she was forced to swerve to one side.
“Get back here!” yelled Resus.
Cleo stuck her tongue out at him as she snatched the parchment from the air. “Got it!” she grinned. She was running back to the safety of the counter when a jar of pulsing blue liquid smashed into a display of scented candles. The liquid sprayed over the candle flames and a ball of fire exploded into the air.
Cleo was thrown back by the blast, smashing into the wall and collapsing beneath a large cotton wall-hanging. The fire spread quickly. Luke leapt over the counter and pulled the burning wall-hanging off the mummy, but it was too late. Cleo was on fire.
The mummy screamed as her bandages burned. Eefa grabbed a rug and began beating at the flames. “Resus!” she shrieked. “Get some water!”
Luke glanced up at the vampire. Resus was rooted to the spot, licking the tips of his fangs as he studied the flames, the fire reflected in his dark eyes.
Turning back to the blaze, Luke spotted a gap in the flames and dashed forward. Clutching Cleo’s hand, he began to drag her away from the inferno. With a roar, the flames exploded, throwing him to the floor.
Luke jumped back to his feet, angrily rubbing at his scorched flesh. His eyes opened wide as a familiar feeling washed over him. His head swam and everything slowed to a crawl inside his mind. He was starting to transform.
“Not now!” he pleaded aloud, but the change had already begun. Wolf fur spread across his body like a thick blanket and Luke gritted his teeth against the agony that was to come. To his amazement, nothing else happened. The transformation stopped after the fur was in place.
Luke discovered his skin was now shielded from the heat of the fire, and cautiously he stepped into the flames. His clothes quickly burnt away, but the dense fur protected his body. Lifting Cleo, Luke carried her out of the fire and laid her on the shop counter.
Eefa hurried to the mummy, raising her hands over her burnt body and chanting under her breath. Cleo cried softly with the pain.
Then there was a sound
like wind being sucked down a drain, and the bottles and jars still flying through the air fell to the floor with a smash. The poltergeist attack was over as quickly as it had started.
Luke tore a curtain from the window and wrapped it around himself as the thick strands of fur retracted into his skin. Within seconds he was human again.
Resus crunched over to him through the broken glass. “That was amazing!” he said. “I just froze, but you were great. How did you do that?”
“I don’t know,” replied Luke. “I didn’t change completely.”
Eefa looked up from the spell she was working over Cleo. “You’re in Scream Street,” she said. “Werewolves have lived here before and they all experienced partial transformations of some kind or another.”
Resus clapped Luke on the back. “I take back what I said earlier,” he beamed. “You’re anything but a normal.”
Luke allowed himself a smile. Perhaps living in Scream Street wouldn’t be so bad after all…
His thoughts were interrupted by the screech of the bat as the door opened. Bella Negative appeared, a serious expression on her face.
“Luke,” she said. “It’s your mum.”
Chapter Five
The Landlord
Back in the kitchen of 13 Scream Street, Luke watched as Bella Negative bandaged his mum’s broken arm.
“We were sheltering beneath the table when the iron stove flew over and hit your mum,” said Alston. “There was nothing we could do.”
“What about magic?” asked Luke. “Eefa was helping Cleo at the shop.”
“Eefa was just easing Cleo’s pain,” said Bella. “Injuries have to heal naturally here, just like in your world.”
“My world!” snapped Luke. “None of this would have happened if we had just been left alone in ‘my world’!”
“This is your world now,” said Bella. “You’re a werewolf; you belong here.”
“My mum and dad don’t belong here, though, do they?” shouted Luke. He spun round. “Look at them! They’re terrified.”
“Luke,” said Mr Watson. “It’s OK…”
“No, Dad, it’s not OK,” said Luke. “This is all my fault – you’re here because of me! I’m taking you home.”
“That’s impossible,” said Alston, “unless you’re Samuel Skipstone.”
“Who?”
“Samuel Skipstone wrote a book about Scream Street,” explained Bella. “Legend says he discovered the only way out.”
“Then I’ll read that!” said Luke.
“It’s nothing but a fairy tale,” insisted Alston. “Once you’ve been brought to Scream Street, you’re here to stay.”
“That’s ridiculous!” shouted Luke. “There must be a way out. We can’t—”
The front door smashed open and then a large, sweating man appeared in the kitchen doorway, puffing at a thick cigar. Foul smoke filled the air around him.
“Sir Otto!” said Alston.
“Why are all the lights on in this house?” roared the man, stroking a silk scarf that covered his neck. “You’re wasting gas!”
“We’ve been clearing up after the poltergeist attack,” explained Bella. “This family has just arrived and Mrs Watson has broken her arm.”
The man opened his mouth to reply but stopped when a tall, thin figure with lank ginger hair entered the room. “I don’t get it, Uncle Otto,” he said.
“How many times do I have to tell you, Dixon?” the man growled. “When we’re out in public, you are to refer to me as Sir.”
“Sorry, Sir Uncle Otto,” smiled Dixon. “I just don’t understand why you got me to kick the door down when there are people inside. We could have knocked!”
Sir Otto slapped his nephew across the head. “Idiot!” Regaining his composure, he turned back to Bella. “You know the rules! Only one light to be burning at a time. No exceptions!”
Sir Otto pulled the cigar out of his mouth and smiled nastily at Luke. “Hello, little freak,” he purred. “I’m Sir Otto Sneer, your new landlord.” Then he turned to his nephew. “Dixon,” he roared, jamming the cigar back between his lips. “Disconnect them!”
“You can’t!” shouted Alston. “They need gas!”
“Then they should have obeyed the rules,” snarled the landlord as he disappeared out into the street. Within minutes, the house was plunged into darkness. The only sound was of Mrs Watson sobbing.
“I’ve got to take my mum and dad home,” muttered Luke.
Bella appeared beside him. “There might be a way,” she whispered. “But you’ll have to do some work first.”
“What kind of work?” asked Luke.
“Schoolwork!”
“And, of course, a very warm welcome to our newest pupil!”
Luke stared at his new teacher – or, rather, through his new teacher. Dr Skully was a skeleton. “I spent a long career as a laboratory skeleton,” he had explained earlier. “Now retired, I devote my life to teaching others.”
Luke was sitting with Resus and Cleo in Dr Skully’s dining room, set up as a classroom complete with desks, a blackboard and bookshelves.
“Biscuit, anyone?” asked the teacher’s skeletal wife as she entered with a tray of hot drinks and snacks.
“Really, Tibia,” scolded the teacher lightly. “How many times must I ask you not to simply barge in without— Oh, my, are those chocolate chip?”
Luke took the opportunity to lean across and whisper to Resus, “This is all very cosy, but how does it help me get my parents home?”
“My mum said there’s a book that shows how to open a doorway to your world,” replied the vampire. “Skipstone’s Tales of Scream Street.”
“Skipstone?” said Cleo. “The man who claimed the Loch Ness Monster lived in his toilet bowl? Everyone knows his stories are crazy!”
Resus shrugged. “Even the weirdest nursery rhyme has some truth in it.”
“OK,” said Cleo, “it’s worth a try. But how do we find the book?”
“What do you mean ‘we’?” hissed Luke. “I’m doing this alone.”
“No, you’re not!” said Cleo. “I lay in silence for centuries while explorers searched my tomb. Now there’s an adventure on my doorstep, I’m not missing it!”
“You can count me in too!” grinned Resus.
Luke was surprised to feel relieved. He had no idea what might be involved in opening this doorway, and any help he could get would be welcome.
“Right!” said Dr Skully as he munched on a cookie. The crumbs bounced off his ribcage as they fell to the floor. “Maths books open to chapter—”
“Could you tell us about Samuel Skipstone, please, sir?” interrupted Resus.
“Skipstone?” said the teacher. “School is a place for facts, Master Negative, not the exploration of fictitious ramblings!” The skeleton shook his head. “Today we are here to study mathematics.”
Luke sighed as Dr Skully turned to the blackboard to write out a complicated algebra equation. “What do we do now?”
“Find the book ourselves,” replied Resus. “If anyone’s got a copy, it will be Dr Skully. We just need to search these bookcases.”
“But how do we get him out of the room?” hissed Cleo.
Resus winked. “Leave it to me!” He reached inside his cloak and pulled out a large bone, rotting shreds of meat still attached.
“Where did you get that?” asked Luke.
“You can thank my grandad,” replied Resus.
“He gave you that leg bone?” said Luke.
“This is his leg bone!” grinned the vampire.
“You’re disgusting,” moaned Cleo.
“Why?” said Resus. “He doesn’t need it; he’s been dead for years! Now, check this out…” He waggled the bone beneath the desk. “Scapula, here, boy!”
A skeleton dog padded into the room and took the bone in its teeth. It trotted through the open back door and out to a hole in the garden. Suddenly the dog seemed to become confused, and after looking from the bone to i
ts own skeletal body and back again, it jumped into the hole and covered itself with soil.
“Dr Skully,” called Resus, “Scapula’s burying himself in the garden again.”
“Oh, dear!” groaned the teacher, running from the room.
Resus leapt to his feet. “Right, we’ve got about two minutes!” he said. “We’re looking for Skipstone’s Tales of Scream Street.”
Luke began to search. The teacher’s shelves featured titles such as Dragon Wrangling, In Touch with the Spirits and 101 Ways to Clean Up After a Bog Monster, but there was no sign of Skipstone’s Tales of Scream Street. “This is hopeless!” he moaned.
“It’s got to be here somewhere,” said Resus. “Try the top shelf.”
“I’ll do it,” said Cleo, dragging a desk across the room and climbing onto it.
“Is it up there?” Luke asked.
“Is WHAT up there?” boomed a voice behind them. The trio spun round to find Dr Skully standing in the doorway. Scapula sat at his feet.
“Skipstone’s Tales of Scream Street, sir,” admitted Cleo, climbing down.
“And why would it be?” questioned the teacher. “Especially when I have explained that Skipstone’s writings are worth little, if anything, to the reader?”
“It’s Luke, sir!” said Resus. “He’s turning into a werewolf again! We were hoping there would be something in the book that would help him.”
Dr Skully turned to Luke. “Is this true?” he asked. “Are you in the early stages of your transformation?”
Luke swallowed hard. “Yes, sir,” he lied feebly, waving his arms around a little and pretending to growl. “Grrrr!”
The skeleton sighed. “Well, although there is no way to reverse a werewolf transformation, Samuel Skipstone did, apparently, research the subject.”
Luke’s eyes lit up. “Do you have a copy of his book, sir?” he asked.
“I own the only copy,” replied the teacher.
“Can we see it?” asked Cleo.
“Unfortunately not,” said Dr Skully, shaking his head. “It was confiscated.”
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