Series 2000- Are You Terrified Yet?

by R. L. Stine

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m not brave, Amy. I’ve been terrified ever since I moved to Middle Valley. I—”

  “Craig, I saw how brave you are— remember?” Amy interrupted. “I saw you risk your life to rescue that baby in the car. And I saw you climb that tree to save the little boy. And rescue the bird’s nest, and—”

  “It was all an accident,” I insisted. “Please—let me finish.”

  I took another deep breath. Confessing the truth was hard. But I had to do it.

  “You know when Travis said I used to be called Can-Can-Can-Craig? It’s true. That’s what kids called me at my old school. They called me Can-Can-Can-Craig because I was a total wimp. And I still am, Amy.”

  Silence at her end of the line. I could hear her breathing. But she didn’t say a word.

  “All of these dares,” I continued. “They’re scaring me to death. I can’t take it anymore. That’s why I’m finally telling you the truth. I want you to call off the bet. Call the whole thing off.”

  I sighed. “I’m too scared. I really am. Call off the bet. Okay? Okay?”

  Silence again at Amy’s end.

  Finally! I thought. I finally got through to her.

  “Craig, you’re such a nice person,” she said finally.

  “Excuse me? Nice?”

  “You’re the nicest guy I ever met!” she gushed. “It’s just so nice of you to worry about Travis and Brad.”

  I swallowed hard. “Huh? What are you talking about, Amy?”

  “I know why you said all that,” Amy replied. “You don’t think Travis and Brad can afford to lose a hundred and twenty dollars. And you don’t want to embarrass them. That’s so nice of you!”

  “But—but—” I sputtered.

  “So that’s why you’re pretending to be afraid,” she continued. “You don’t want them to lose all that money. That’s so nice of you! I can’t believe it!”

  I took another deep breath. “So you’ll cancel the bet?” I asked hesitantly.

  “Of course not!” she replied. “We’re going ahead with it, Craig. They deserve to be taught a lesson.”

  “But I can’t climb into a coffin with a real corpse!” I whined.

  Amy laughed. “Of course you can. I know it’s no big deal. Stop pretending. I’ve got to go. My dad is yelling for me to finish my math. Bye.”

  I heard a loud click. The line went dead.

  I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the phone in my hand.

  “It’s no use,” I muttered out loud.

  Amy won’t believe me. She won’t believe that I’m a total coward—no matter what I say.

  I’ve got to do something to stop this, I told myself.

  But what?

  The phone rang in my hand. I jumped up and dropped it to the floor.

  Even a ringing phone scares me! I thought. Why won’t Amy believe me? What am I going to do?

  I picked up the phone. “Hello? Amy?”

  “No. It’s me. Brad.”

  “Oh, hi,” I said. “Are you having trouble with the third math problem too?”

  Brad didn’t answer my question. “It’s tomorrow night, Craig,” he said in a low, solemn voice.

  My heart started to pound. I nearly dropped the phone again. “Excuse me?”

  “Travis says to meet at the same place,” Brad replied. “At the funeral parlor. Tomorrow night.”

  Amy and I walked through the clear, cool night. A pale sliver of a moon floated low over the rooftops against a gray-blue sky. The trees stood silent and still.

  We met Travis and his friends outside Travis’s house. Then we let Travis lead the way to his father’s funeral parlor.

  Frankie and Gus tossed a tennis ball back and forth as we walked. Gus kept missing it and having to chase it over the dark front lawns.

  Travis, Brad, and David all wore solemn expressions.

  They mean business tonight, I told myself.

  “Do you guys really have a hundred and twenty dollars to lose?” Amy called to them.

  “Sure,” Brad replied. “There are five of us. So we don’t have to chip in that much.”

  Travis spun around and started walking backwards. “Do you have the money?” he challenged Amy.

  “We don’t need any money,” Amy replied sharply. “We’re not going to lose.” She clapped me on the back. “Craig and I only have one problem.”

  “What’s that?” Travis demanded.

  “How to spend all that money!” Amy exclaimed.

  Travis scowled and spun back around. “We’ll see,” he muttered.

  “Hey—no tricks tonight?” I asked. “No one popping out of a coffin in a silly Halloween costume?”

  “No tricks tonight,” Travis replied. “We don’t need any tricks, Craig. There’s a real corpse in there.”

  David bumped me off the sidewalk. “Are you terrified yet?” he asked, grinning. “Tell the truth—are you, Craig?”

  Amy lowered her shoulder and bumped David. He is twice her size—but she knocked him off the curb and sent him sprawling into the street. “Craig isn’t even going to answer that question,” she sneered.

  We stopped at the hedges behind the parking lot. The funeral parlor stood dark and silent, as it had the other night.

  But tonight, no rain. And no wind. Everything still. Eerily still.

  Still as death.

  Following Travis, we made our way to the back window. Our shoes scraping over the asphalt parking lot was the only sound.

  We stepped into the deep darkness behind the building. Travis raised both hands and slid the window up easily. He motioned for me to climb in first.

  I hesitated. “Is there really a corpse in there?” I asked in a trembling voice.

  Travis nodded. “Yes. A real corpse. How many times do I have to tell you? He was delivered this morning.”

  “Still fresh,” Gus joked.

  But no one laughed.

  I remembered the last time we came here. I remembered the big plastic bag delivered by the two men in the van.

  I shuddered. I tried to imagine what a dead body looked like. What it felt like.

  Travis glanced behind us tensely. “Come on, hurry, Can-Can-Can-Craig. Get in. Before someone sees us.” He gave me a boost onto the window ledge. “Come on. It’s show time.”

  I took one last glance back at my friends.

  Am I really doing this? I asked myself.

  Then I uttered a sigh, turned, and lowered myself into the building.

  The sharp, sour smell of formaldehyde greeted me once again. I covered my nose and tried to breathe through my mouth.

  I heard a scrambling behind me. The thud of shoes on the floor. The others climbed through the window.

  Travis clicked on a ceiling light and dimmed it. I squinted around the gray room. The dim light cast long, eerie shadows over the floor, like dark pools. I had the sudden feeling that if I stepped into one, I’d sink and never be seen again.

  I shook that thought away and took a few steps toward the row of coffins. The lids were all shut. The polished wood glowed under the pale ceiling light.

  I felt a hand squeeze my shoulder. I turned to find Travis grinning at me. “What’s your problem?” I demanded.

  A mocking smile spread over his freckled face. “A little tense, Can-Can-Can-Craig?”

  I didn’t answer. I stared at the row of coffins.

  “I decided to give you a break,” Travis said, still squeezing my shoulder.

  “Excuse me?” I replied. “A break?”

  He nodded. “I know you’re terrified. We don’t want to scare you to death!”

  Some of the others laughed.

  Big joke.

  “So you don’t have to climb in with the old guy,” Travis continued, guiding me to a coffin in the middle of the row. “You just have to shake his hand and then give him a nice, cheek-to-cheek hug.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh, wow. Thanks for the break.”

  Hug a corpse?

/>   Travis grinned at me. “If you just want to pay us the money and forget about it …?”

  “No way!” Amy broke between us, shoving Travis’s hand off my shoulder. “This is too easy! Too easy!”

  Travis stepped up to side of the coffin. “Okay. Whatever you say.”

  He motioned for Brad to help him. The two of them grabbed the coffin lid and slid it up.

  I gasped as the old man’s body came into view. I’d never seen a dead person before.

  He lay on his back, in a black suit, white shirt, and dark tie. His arms stretched stiffly at his sides, hands clenched into chalk-white fists.

  He had wispy white hair, brushed straight back over a speckled forehead. His eyes were closed. His lips appeared to be lipsticked red. His skin was kind of orange, not real-looking at all.

  Not a joke this time, I realized, staring down wide-eyed at him. He isn’t going to sit up and grab my jacket.

  He’s really dead.

  I leaned over the coffin. Could I shake his hand? Could I hug him?

  “Go ahead,” Amy urged. “No problem— right, Craig?”

  “I—I guess,” I stammered.

  David laughed. He pointed at me. “Look at Can-Can-Can-Craig. He’s shaking! Look at him!”

  Frankie and Gus laughed too.

  Brad stood down at the end of the coffin, near the old guy’s feet, chewing his bottom lip nervously. The corpse’s black shoes glowed like new under the ceiling light.

  “Shake his hand,” Travis ordered. “Go ahead. If you can.”

  I swallowed hard. I couldn’t take my eyes off the orange face, the speckled forehead, the bright, lipsticked lips.

  “Give up?” Travis demanded. “Can’t do it?”

  “I—I’m doing it,” I insisted.

  I took a deep breath and held it. Then I started to lower my right hand into the coffin.

  I shut my eyes.

  Am I really doing this? Am I really going to touch a dead man?

  Yes.

  I opened my eyes—and wrapped my fingers around the white fist.

  Yuck. The hand felt hard. Cold.

  It didn’t feel like a hand. It felt like stone.

  “Shake,” Travis ordered.

  I shook the hand. Once. Twice.

  “Ohhhh.” I dropped it and jumped back.

  The guys all laughed.

  “Craig did it!” Amy declared. “You lose, Travis.”

  I shook my right hand hard, trying to shake away the touch of the corpse.

  “He isn’t finished. It’s hug time,” Travis said.

  “You don’t win unless you give the guy a hug,” David chimed in.

  My stomach did a major flip-flop.

  “You have to hug him cheek to cheek,” Travis insisted.

  Oh, wow.

  How gross.

  I have to press my face against that cold orange skin?

  “Craig has no problem with that,” Amy declared. “Show them, Craig.”

  Thanks for all the support, Amy, I thought bitterly.

  I wouldn’t be in this mess if it wasn’t for you.

  They were all staring hard at me. Watching. Waiting.

  I had no choice. I had to hug the corpse.

  I turned to the coffin. I leaned over the side and started to lower my hands toward the old man.

  A loud creaking sound made me stop.

  I stood straight up.

  And heard another CREAK.

  I turned to my friends. Their faces were startled, wide-eyed. They heard it too.

  “What is that?” I whispered.

  Another CREAK.

  I glanced down the row of coffins.

  And saw a coffin lid move. And then another.

  All down the row, the coffins were slowly opening.

  I let out a cry and staggered back against the wall.

  Gazing across the room, I saw hands pushing the lids up from inside coffins. Swollen red hands. Bruised purple hands. Pale hands white as flour.

  “We—we’ve disturbed the dead!” I shrieked.

  The lid stood straight up on the coffin next to us. I heard an ugly hoarse groan. A green-skinned corpse sat up, turning its decayed head. It tried to open its eyes—but they were sewn shut!

  The room filled with throaty groans and sighs like air escaping from tires. Another coffin lid lurched open. A corpse with a yellowed, rotting face began to lower itself heavily from its coffin.

  Another corpse lurched to a sitting position across from him. I gasped as I saw the white worms wriggling out from his nostrils.

  “Noooo!” Travis opened his mouth in a howl of horror.

  “This is … impossible!” David shrieked.

  “We disturbed them! We disturbed them!” I wailed.

  We all screamed as a closet door swung open. The door slammed hard against the wall.

  And hideous corpses fell out, staggering like sleepwalkers. Eyes sewn shut, their skin splotchy, falling off their gray skulls. Arms outstretched, they moved so stiffly, groaning, groaning from deep in their caved-in chests as they staggered across the room.

  Toward us.

  Amy screamed.

  Travis and Brad backed up beside me, their mouths open, eyes wide.

  I heard another gasping groan. And turned to see a corpse drop to the floor. His head was covered in a floppy, wide-brimmed hat. He wore a huge trench coat, many sizes too big for him. With another groan, he pulled himself up and began staggering toward us.

  As he lurched forward, the hat tilted back. We screamed as his face came into view.

  Half a face. Only half a face. Gray skin stretched over bone. A dead mouse clinging to his empty eye socket.

  “Nooooo!” We all howled in horror.

  But our cries were drowned out by the deep, ugly groans. The gasping breaths … the hissing sighs.

  A tall, purple-skinned corpse led the others. Head bowed, eyes sewn shut, he pulled one leg forward, then the other.

  Suddenly, he stopped.

  I let out a cry as his left hand fell off. It hit the floor with a soft plop and bounced under one of the lab tables.

  The corpse paused for only a second, then came lurching blindly toward us once again.

  “Let’s get out of here!” Gus screamed, his face twisted in panic.

  Too late.

  They had us cornered. They had us backed against the wall.

  I glanced down at the old man, the only corpse that didn’t rise up.

  Shuffling their heavy shoes over the floor, the corpses moved closer. Closer.

  “Craig—do something!” Amy shrieked.

  “Huh?” I gasped. “Me?”

  “Stop them!” Travis cried, shoving me forward. “Craig—you can do it! You’re the only brave one here!”

  “I am?” I choked out.

  “Yes! You win the bet!” Travis cried in a trembling voice. He was so frightened, so pale, all his freckles had disappeared!

  “You win! You win!” Travis declared. “Just stop them! Do something!”

  “But what can I do-do?” I stammered in a tiny voice, my whole body trembling.

  “Do something!” Amy wailed. “You have to save us!”

  She gave me a hard shove.

  I stumbled forward.

  And a tall corpse dove forward and wrapped its rotting arms around my waist.

  “Let go! Let go!” I shrieked.

  I squirmed and struggled.

  But the green-skinned corpse, eyes sewn tight, maggot-infested hair down over its rotting face, grasped me tighter.

  I heard the others screaming.

  I looked up and saw them running—flying—to the back window.

  David reached the window first. He dove through it and vanished outside.

  The corpse wrapped its clammy hands around my waist. “Unh unh unh.” It grunted in my ear, its sour breath tingling my skin.

  Gus and Frankie scrambled over each other, squeezing themselves out the window at the same time. Travis vanished too. Amy fol
lowed. Brad dove out headfirst.

  “Come back,” I gasped. “It—it won’t let go! Come back!”

  “Wait!” I heard Amy cry. “Hey— wait! We can’t leave Craig in there!”

  “We’ll get help!” I heard Travis promise, his voice shrill with panic. “We’ll call the police!”

  With a hard tug, I pulled myself free of the corpse’s grip.

  I scrambled to the window and peered outside.

  And watched them all running across the parking lot, running full speed, running away in total terror.

  I waited for about half an hour. Then I walked to Brad’s house.

  He must have been watching for me out the window. He pulled open the front door before I rang the bell.

  “That was awesome!” he exclaimed.

  I slapped him a high five. “Yeah. Awesome. Thanks for helping me, Brad,” I said.

  We both started to laugh. We slapped each other another high five.

  I followed Brad into his living room. “Your brother and his friends were excellent corpses!” I declared. “They scared everyone to death!” I laughed. “Even I almost believed them!”

  “They looked so perfect,” Brad agreed. “All that disgusting green and purple makeup on their faces. The way they staggered with their eyes shut.”

  His smile suddenly faded. “Hey—don’t ever tell Travis I helped you with this,” he said.

  “No. No way,” I promised.

  “I just thought enough was enough,” Brad explained. “It was getting too mean. Time to end it once and for all. Besides, I owed you one for helping me with Grant in school the other day.”

  “Yeah. I’m glad it’s all over,” I sighed. I dropped onto the couch. “Be sure to tell Grant thanks, okay? And tell him to thank his friends too.”

  Brad chuckled. “Grant loves to scare people,” he said. “I didn’t have to ask him twice.”

  “Maybe we can all relax now and just be friends,” I said. “I mean—”

  I didn’t finish because Grant came striding into the room.

  “Hey, Grant—” I started.

  Grant frowned at me. “Sorry my friends and I couldn’t make it tonight,” he said.

  “Huh?” Brad and I both gasped.

  “But—but—” I sputtered.

  “What do you mean?” Brad demanded shrilly.

  Grant shook his head. “My friends and I—we showed up at the funeral parlor. But the doors were all locked. No way to get in. So we left.”