by R. L. Stine
“Put down that toy. It can’t help you,” The Masked Mutant declared, moving closer.
“I’m not kidding,” Libby insisted in a shrill voice. “It isn’t a toy. It really is a Molecule-Melter.”
The Masked Mutant laughed again and took another step closer. Then another step.
Libby aimed the gun at The Mutant’s chest. She pulled the trigger.
A high-pitched whistle burst out of the gun.
The Masked Mutant took another step closer. Then another.
26
Libby lowered the plastic gun.
We both stared in horror as The Masked Mutant came nearer.
He took one more step. Then stopped.
A bright white light circled his body. The light became a crackling electrical current.
The Mutant uttered a low moan. Then he began to melt.
His head melted down into his mask. Tinier and tinier—until it disappeared completely. The empty mask slumped on to the shoulders of his costume. And then the rest of his body melted away, shrinking until there was nothing left but a wrinkled costume and cape, heaped on the carpet.
Libby and I stood staring down at the costume in silence.
“It—it worked!” I finally managed to choke out. “The toy gun—it worked, Libby!”
“Of course,” she replied with surprising calm.
She walked over to the empty costume and kicked it with her sneaker. “Of course it worked. I warned him it was a Molecule-Melter. He wouldn’t listen.”
My brain was doing flip-flops. I didn’t really understand. It was just a toy pistol. Why did it destroy the mightiest mutant on Earth?
“Let’s get out of here!” I pleaded, starting toward the door.
Libby moved to block my path. “I’m sorry, Skipper,” she said softly.
“Sorry? What do you mean?”
She raised the plastic pistol and aimed it at me. “I’m sorry,” she said, “because you’re disappearing next.”
27
At first I thought Libby was joking. “Libby, put down the gun,” I told her. “You have a sick sense of humor!”
She kept the plastic gun aimed at my chest.
I let out a feeble laugh.
But I quickly cut it short when I saw the hard expression on her face. “Libby—what’s your problem?” I demanded.
“I’m not Libby,” she replied softly. “I hate to break the news to you, Skipper—but there is no Libby.”
As she said those words, she began to change. Her red hair slid into her head. Her cheeks grew wider. Her nose lengthened. Her eyes changed from green to black.
She stretched up, growing taller. Muscles bulged on her skinny arms. And as she grew, her clothing changed, too. Her jeans and T-shirt appeared to melt away—replaced by a familiar-looking costume.
The costume of The Masked Mutant.
“Libby—what’s going on?” I cried in a tiny, frightened voice. I still didn’t understand. “How are you doing that?”
She shook her head. “You don’t catch on very fast, do you?” she said, rolling her eyes. Her voice came out deep and booming. A man’s voice.
“Libby, I—”
She swept her cape behind her. “I’m The Masked Mutant, Skipper. I changed my molecules into a girl your age and called myself Libby. But I’m The Masked Mutant.”
“But—but—but—” I sputtered.
She tossed the toy gun aside and grinned at me triumphantly.
“But you just melted The Masked Mutant!” I cried. “We both saw him melt!”
She shook her head. “No. You’re mistaken. I just melted The Magnificent Molecule Man.”
I gaped at her in astonishment. “Huh? Molecule Man?”
“He worked for me,” she explained, glancing down at the crumpled, empty costume on the floor. “Sometimes I ordered him to dress like me. To keep people off my track.”
“He worked for you—and you melted him?” I cried.
“I’m a villain,” The Masked Mutant replied, smiling. “I do very bad things—remember?”
It all started to come clear. There never was a Libby. It had been The Masked Mutant all along.
The Masked Mutant stepped over the crumpled costume to move closer to me. Once again, I pressed my back against the wall. “Now I have no choice. Now I have to do something very bad to you, Skipper,” he said flatly, his black eyes staring hard into mine through his mask.
“But—why?” I cried. “Why can’t I just leave? I’ll go straight home. I’ll never tell anyone about you. Really!” I pleaded.
He shook his head. “I can’t let you leave. You belong here now.”
“Huh?” I gasped. “What are you saying, Libby—I mean, Mutant?”
“You belong here now, Skipper,” he replied coldly. “I knew it when I saw you on the bus for the first time. I knew you were perfect when you told me you knew everything about my comics.”
“But—but—” I sputtered again.
“It’s so hard to find good characters for my stories, Skipper. It’s so hard to find good foes. I’m always looking for new faces. That’s why I was so pleased when I discovered you.”
His evil grin grew wider. “Then when you recognized my headquarters building, I knew you were right. I knew you were ready to star in a story.”
The smile faded quickly. “I’m so sorry, Skipper. But the story is over. Your part has come to an end.”
“What—what are you going to do?” I stammered.
“Destroy you, of course!” The Mutant replied coldly.
I pressed my back against the wall. I stared back at him, thinking hard.
“Good-bye, Skipper,” The Masked Mutant said softly.
“But you can’t do this!” I screamed. “You’re just a character in a comic book! But I’m real! I’m a real, live person! I’m a real boy!”
A strange smile formed on The Mutant’s lips. “No, you’re not, Skipper,” he said, snickering. “You’re not real. You’re just like me now. You’re a comic book character, too.”
28
I pinched my arm. It felt as warm and real as always.
“You’re a liar!” I shouted.
The Masked Mutant nodded. A pleased smile formed on his face. “Yes, I’m a liar,” he agreed. “That’s one of my better qualities.” His smile faded. “But I’m not lying this time, Skipper. You’re not real anymore.”
I refused to believe him. “I feel the way I always have,” I declared.
“But I changed you into a comic book character,” he insisted. “Remember when you entered this building for the first time? Remember when you walked through the glass door and a beam of light passed over you?”
I nodded. “Yes. I remember that,” I muttered.
“Well, that was a scanner,” The Masked Mutant continued. “When you stepped through it, it scanned your body. It turned you into tiny dots of ink.”
“No!” I shouted.
He ignored my cry. “That’s all you are now, Skipper. Tiny dots of red, blue, and yellow ink. You’re a comic book character, just like me.”
He slid toward me menacingly, his cape spreading out behind him. “But I’m sorry to say you’ve made your last appearance in my comic book. Or in any comic book.”
“Wait!” I cried.
“I can’t wait any longer,” The Masked Mutant replied coldly. “I’ve already wasted too much time on you, Skipper.”
“But I’m not Skipper!” I declared.
“I’m not Skipper Matthews,” I said. “There is no Skipper Matthews.”
“Oh, really?” he asked, rolling his eyes. “Then who are you?”
“I’m The Colossal Elastic Boy!” I replied.
29
The Masked Mutant uttered a low gasp. “Elastic Boy!” he exclaimed. “I thought you looked familiar!”
“Good-bye, Mutant,” I said in a deep voice.
“Where are you going?” he asked sharply.
“Back to my home planet of Xargos,” I replied, s
tarting toward the door. “I’m not allowed to guest-star in other comic books.”
He moved quickly to block the door. “Nice try, Elastic Boy,” he said. “But you have invaded my secret headquarters. I have to destroy you.”
I laughed. “You can’t destroy Elastic Boy!” I boasted. “I’ll stretch out my elastic arms and wrap you in them, and squeeze you into Play-Doh!”
“I don’t think so,” The Masked Mutant replied dryly. He let out an angry growl. “I’m tired of all this talk, talk, talk. I’m going to tear you to pieces—and then tear your pieces into tiny pieces!”
I laughed again. “No way!” I told him. “I’m elastic, remember? I can’t be torn into pieces. I bend—but I don’t break! There’s only one way that Elastic Boy can be destroyed!”
“What’s that?” The Masked Mutant asked.
“By sulphuric acid,” I replied. “That’s the only thing that can destroy my elastic body!”
A pleased smile spread behind the masked face.
“Oops!” I cried. “I didn’t mean to let that slip out!”
I tried to make it to the door. But I wasn’t fast enough.
I saw The Masked Mutant quickly begin to change. He changed into a steaming hot wave of sulphuric acid.
And before I could move, the tall wave of acid swept toward me.
30
With a loud cry, I leaped away.
The tall wave swept past. It missed me by inches.
I turned and watched it splash over the carpet. The carpet began to sizzle and burn.
“Yes!” I shouted gleefully. “Yes!”
I had never felt so happy, so strong, so triumphant!
I had defeated The Masked Mutant. I had totally tricked him. I had destroyed the most evil supervillain ever to walk the planet!
Me! A twelve-year-old boy named Skipper Matthews! I had sent The Masked Mutant to his doom!
Such a simple trick. But it had worked.
From reading the comics, I knew that The Masked Mutant could change his molecules into anything solid. And then change back again.
But I tricked him into changing himself into a liquid! And once he changed into a liquid, he could not re-form himself.
The Masked Mutant was gone forever.
“Skipper, you are a clever guy!” I shouted out loud. I was so happy, I did a little dance on the thick carpet.
I couldn’t believe The Masked Mutant had believed that I was Elastic Boy. I’d made that name up. I’ve never heard of any Elastic Boy!
But he fell for it. And now the evil supervillain is gone! I thought happily.
And I am alive! Alive!
I couldn’t wait to get home and see my family again. The bus ride seemed to take hours.
Finally, I was running up my front lawn. Into the house through the front door.
I immediately saw a brown envelope lying on the mail table. The new issue of The Masked Mutant.
Who needs it? I asked myself.
I ignored it and hurried to say hi to my parents. I was so glad to be home, I was even happy to see Mitzi. “Mitzi—how about a game of Frisbee?” I asked.
“Huh?” She gaped at me in shock. I never want to play anything with my little sister.
But, today, I just wanted to be happy and celebrate being alive.
Mitzi and I hurried out to the back yard. We threw a Frisbee around for about half an hour. We had a great time.
“How about a snack?” I asked her.
“Yeah. I’m starving,” she replied. “Mom left some chocolate cake on the counter.”
Chocolate cake sounded just right.
Humming happily to myself, I trotted into the kitchen. I pulled down two plates from the cabinet. Then I found the big cake knife in the drawer.
“Don’t make your slice bigger than mine!” Mitzi warned, watching me carefully as I prepared to cut the cake.
“Mitzi, I promise I won’t cheat you,” I said sweetly. I was in such a good mood, even Mitzi couldn’t get me upset.
“This looks like awesome chocolate cake!” I exclaimed.
I slid the big knife over the cake.
It slipped.
“Ow!” I cried out as the knife blade cut the back of my hand.
I raised my hand and stared down at the cut. “Hey!” I uttered in surprise.
What was trickling out from the cut?
Not blood.
It was red, blue, yellow, and black.
INK!
“Cool!” Mitzi cried.
“Where’s that new Masked Mutant comic?” I asked. I suddenly had the feeling that my comic book career wasn’t over!
Scanning, formatting and
proofing by Undead.