by R. L. Stine
We passed a row of rooms, then turned a corner. “I think the front desk is that way,” I said, pointing.
But Sheena and Matt weren’t listening to me. They were staring into a wide glass window. I saw the word CAFÉ in big red letters on a sign above the window.
“Oh, wow!” Sheena cried. She pulled me to the window.
I peered into the café. “It’s Britney and Molly!” I cried.
The two girls sat across from each other. They were at a little round table in front of a huge mirror that hung on the wall. They had tall ice cream sodas in front of them. But neither girl had taken a sip.
“Why do they look so sad?” I asked.
Sheena pounded on the glass and shouted, “Hey — Britney! Molly!”
The two girls stared at each other. They didn’t move.
Sheena pounded harder on the window. “They can’t hear us,” she said. “Let’s go in.”
I grabbed the door and tried to pull it open. It didn’t budge. I tried pushing it. No way. I shoved harder. No.
I pressed my face against the glass to get a better look inside. No other entrance. No other windows.
“Why can’t they hear us?” Sheena cried. She pounded on the window with her fists. She cupped her hands around her mouth and screamed their names.
The two girls didn’t move.
I pounded on the door. Then I kicked the door. It made a thunderous BANG.
The girls sat staring at their ice cream sodas.
“What’s going on?” I cried. “Why can’t they hear us?”
Sheena didn’t give up. My sister never gives up. She pounded on the window and shouted their names.
“What’s that?” Matt asked. He pointed to a metal box next to the door. “Check it out. It has a slot in it. Maybe our room keys open the door.”
I pulled my purple-and-green key card from my wallet. I shoved it into the slot and tried the door. No. It didn’t budge.
I had an idea. “Matt,” I said. “Try the secret card. Maybe you need that weird card to get into this restaurant.”
“Worth a try,” Matt said. He pushed the gray card into the slot.
A green light flashed on. The door buzzed. He pushed it open. “Yes!” he cried. “We’re in! We —”
I followed him into the café — and stopped short. I let out a startled cry. “Hey!”
We were standing in an empty room.
“Where’d they go?” I cried.
“The place is totally empty!” Matt said.
I walked over to Britney and Molly’s table. No ice cream sodas. The napkins were neatly folded. The silverware hadn’t been used.
“Weird,” I muttered. I turned and gazed into the mirror. It covered the entire back wall. My reflection and Matt’s reflection stared back at us.
One reflection was missing.
“Sheena?” I called. “Where are you? Where did you go?”
“Don’t be funny,” Sheena said. “I’m standing right next to you.”
I spun around. My breath caught in my throat. “But … I can’t see you!” I cried.
“Don’t be stupid,” Sheena said. “This is no time for dumb jokes.”
“I can’t see you, either, Sheena,” Matt said. “It’s not a joke. Look.” He pointed to the mirror.
I turned and looked again. And saw the two of us in the mirror. My reflection stood next to Matt’s reflection.
Beside me, I heard Sheena gasp. “Oh — no. I … I’m INVISIBLE!”
My name is Matt Daniels, and my terrifying story began on a typical morning. In my house, typical means totally annoying. Because who showed up just as my sister, Livvy, and I were finishing our breakfast?
The kid from next door. Bradley Wormser.
Everyone at school calls him Worm, and it’s a pretty good nickname for him. Trust me.
Bradley shows up in our kitchen almost every morning, just as Livvy and I are finishing breakfast. And he gobbles up whatever he can grab.
He’s so skinny, it’s hard to believe he could eat everything on the kitchen table if we let him. He really does look like a long, lanky worm with glasses!
I have this idea that one day I’m going to glue the Pop Tarts to the table. Then I’m going to enjoy the look on Bradley’s face as he struggles to pull them up.
I’m great at inventing stuff. And I’m really interested in science. And I’m a pretty good athlete.
But none of that helps me against Worm Wormser. He drives me nuts!
This morning, Bradley waited till my mom’s back was turned. Then he dropped a fat, dead horsefly into my cereal. I stared down at the fly floating on top of the milk.
“Yucko,” Bradley said. “You don’t want that, do you, Matt? There’s a dead fly in it.”
He pulled the bowl away from me, tilted it to his face, and drank the cereal down. Then he spit the fly onto the floor. “Not bad,” he said, using Livvy’s sleeve to wipe his mouth. “A little soggy.”
“Let go of me!” Livvy cried.
He snapped his fingers an inch from her nose. He thinks that’s totally funny. Livvy hates it.
Mom has no idea what a pain Bradley is.
She was cleaning something at the sink. “Mom, can I have another bowl of cereal?” I asked.
“No seconds, Matt,” she replied without turning around. “You’ve got to watch your weight. Your big swim meet is coming up soon, remember?”
My stomach growled. Angrily, I grabbed a wet glob of cornflakes from Livvy’s bowl with my fingers — and stuck it onto Bradley’s nose.
Mom turned around. “Matt!” she shouted, glaring at me. “Don’t play with your food!”
“Yeah, Matt. Don’t play with your food,” Bradley said, grinning.
As soon as Mom went back to cleaning, he made a grab for Livvy’s Pop Tart.
Mom turned around again just as Livvy snatched it away. “Livvy, no fighting!” she snapped.
“But, Mom — ”
See what I told you? You spell Bradley’s name P-A-I-N.
This was the most important week of my life. And I didn’t need Bradley in my face.
I would love to invent something to make the creep disappear. Or maybe I could just ask him to disappear. But there are a few problems.
For one thing, he lives in the house right next door. And his mom and my mom are business partners. They both run a party catering business from our homes.
This means that Livvy, Bradley, and I are thrown together a lot.
And there’s one other big problem. Bradley worships me.
This morning, Bradley put his paws all over my new swim team T-shirt. “Matt, can I have this shirt? Where’d you get it? It’s awesome. It’s kinda small on you — isn’t it?”
He always wants to dress like me. He thinks it will make him popular, too. It’s pitiful, right?
And the guy never stops talking. “Did you see that scary movie on HBO last night? Claw? It totally creeped me out. When those two claws reached out of the basement and grabbed the kid by the shoulders?”
He squeezed Livvy’s shoulders with both hands. “Just like this. Ha-ha! I’m the vicious CLAW!”
“Stop! Let go!” my sister screamed.
“Livvy,” Mom scolded. “Stop being such a crab.”
Bradley laughed. He waited till my mom left the kitchen. Then he pulled a small orange-and-black can from his backpack. “Matt, check this out. Go ahead. Open the lid. I dare you.”
I groaned. “Now what?”
Worm spends all his time online. He plays these sci-fi battle games till late at night. And he’s always sending away for all kinds of weird things.
He shoved the can toward me. “Go ahead. Open it,” he said.
I pushed his hand back. “No way.”
He grinned. “Okay. I’ll do it.”
He gripped the lid and started to turn it. Then, suddenly, he stopped, and his eyes went wide. His smile faded. “Watch OUT!” he screamed. “It’s gonna BLOW!”
R.L. Stine�
�s book are read all over the world. So far, his books have sold more than 300 million copies, making him one of the most popular children’s authors in history. Besides Goosebumps, R.L. Stine has written the teen series Fear Street and the funny series Rotten School, as well as the Mostly Ghostly series, The Nightmare Room series, and the two-book thriller Dangerous Girls. R.L. Stine lives in New York with his wife, Jane, and Minnie, his King Charles spaniel. You can learn more about him at www.RLStine.com.
Goosebumps book series created by Parachute Press, Inc.
Goosebumps HorrorLand #2: Creep from the Deep
copyright © 2008 by Scholastic Inc.
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First printing, April 2008
e-ISBN 978-0-545-84032-3
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