by R. L. Stine
And leapt.
Kimmy’s face twisted into a mask of horror.
She didn’t move to catch Corky. Didn’t raise her arms.
And Corky hurtled to the floor, hitting hard with a sickening thunk!
Chapter 21
Not Okay
Corky opened her eyes to silence.
White silence.
The gym had become so quiet.
Faces emerged and came slowly into focus, blurred, distorted, shadowy faces.
“I couldn’t move!” she heard a shrill voice crying somewhere above her. “I couldn’t move. I couldn’t raise my arms!”
It was Kimmy’s voice.
The shadowy faces brightened. Corky realized she was lying on her back, staring up at the gym ceiling.
The pain was like a raging river, rolling over her entire body.
Miss Green peered down at her, her features tight with worry.
Other faces stared down.
Ronnie’s face was drawn and pale. She had tearstains on her freckled cheeks.
Debra stared down at Corky, her cold blue eyes wide, her lips pursed in fear.
She could hear Kimmy sobbing now, loud sobs.
It was so cold now. So cold and silent. And the pain was everywhere.
“I wanted to catch her,” she heard Kimmy tell someone, her voice shrill and trembling. “I tried to catch her. But something held my arms down!”
That’s what Bobbi had said, Corky thought.
The faces above her slipped back into darkness.
That’s what happened to my sister, she realized.
Something had held Bobbi’s arms down. Something had paralyzed Bobbi. Only no one would believe her.
I believe you, Bobbi. I believe you.
Because I know what was responsible. I know what did it.
It was the spirit.
The evil spirit is here.
It’s right here.
But where?
It tried to kill me. It tried.
And then the most horrifying thought: maybe it did kill me.
The faces darkened even more.
She heard Kimmy sobbing.
And then the darkness swallowed her.
When Corky opened her eyes, a different face stared down at her.
“Mom!”
Her voice came out choked and dry.
Mrs. Corcoran, her eyes watery, smiled down at Corky. “You’re going to be okay,” she said, putting a cool hand on her forehead.
Corky tried to sit up, but pain forced her back onto the pillow. “Where am I?”
“You’re in the hospital,” her mother said. Her smile appeared frozen in place—it didn’t fade, even when she talked. “The emergency room.” She dabbed at the corner of one eye with a wadded-up tissue.
The room came into focus. Actually, Corky saw, it wasn’t a room. Just a small rectangular cubicle with gray curtains for walls.
“You’re going to be okay,” Mrs. Corcoran repeated, still offering Corky that forced smile.
No, I’m not, Corky thought glumly.
“You bruised a rib. And you broke your arm. That’s all,” her mother informed her.
So the spirit didn’t kill me, Corky thought, turning to stare at the gray curtains. It didn’t kill me. This time.
But next time …
“Your father is filling out some forms,” Mrs. Corcoran said. “When he’s finished, we can go home. Isn’t that great? You’re going to be okay.”
Corky forced a smile back at her mother. I’m not going to be okay, she thought. I’m never going to be okay.
The evil spirit had killed Bobbi.
And tonight it was in the gym. Tonight it tried to kill me.
I’m not okay. Not okay. Not okay.
A dark-haired young intern in a white coat appeared suddenly above her. “Can you sit up?” he asked, smiling. “I’d like to check the cast one more time.”
Holding her by the shoulder, he helped Corky to a sitting position. To her surprise, she saw a large white cast encasing her right arm.
“I wouldn’t try to do any backflips for a while,” the doctor joked.
“Sean, what are you doing up this late?” Mrs. Corcoran scolded.
Corky’s brother, who had greeted them eagerly at the front door in his pajamas, shrugged his slender shoulders.
“He refused to go to bed,” explained Mrs. Barnaby, the neighbor who had been baby-sitting. “He said he had to see his sister’s cast.”
“Well, back away from the door so your poor sister can get inside,” Mr. Corcoran exclaimed.
Scan’s eyes grew wide with excitement when he saw Corky’s cast. “Wow! Can I touch it?”
Corky extended it to him. “Go ahead. If that’s a thrill for you.”
“No, wait,” Sean said excitedly. “I want to sign my name on it. You’re supposed to sign casts, right?”
“Not tonight, please!” their mother begged.
“Corky’s had a rough night,” Mr. Corcoran told Sean. “Give her some space.”
“Can I write a message on it?” Sean asked, ignoring his parents as usual. “You know. Something funny.”
“Tomorrow,” Corky said shakily. “I’m really feeling kind of weird right now.”
Sean made his pouty face, but backed off.
“You got two calls,” Mrs. Barnaby told Corky, pulling her wool coat over her shoulders, adjusting her scarf. “I wrote them down. One from a Debra; one from Ronnie someone. I told them you were still at the hospital.”
“Thanks,” Corky said wearily. “I’ll call them tomorrow.”
Mrs. Barnaby said good night and headed for home.
Sean argued for a short while. Then he agreed to let Mr. Corcoran tuck him into bed. “Tomorrow I’m going to write something really stupid on your cast,” he warned Corky.
“Thanks. Can’t wait,” his sister replied dryly.
“I’m going to run you a hot bath,” Mrs. Corcoran told Corky. “The doctor said it would be good for your sore muscles.”
Corky shrugged. “Okay, I guess.”
I’ve been attacked by an ancient evil force, she thought scornfully, and Mom thinks a bath will help!
“You just have to be careful not to get the cast wet,” her mother warned.
“I’ll try,” Corky muttered.
She followed her mother up the stairs. After entering her room, she lowered herself carefully into a sitting position on the edge of the bed.
Her ribs ached. Her arm throbbed under the cast.
I can’t do anything, she thought, uttering an exasperated cry. I can’t even undress myself.
She heard the rush of water in the bathtub across the hall. A few seconds later her mother appeared in the doorway, shaking water off her hand. “Let me help you change.”
Corky felt embarrassed to be undressed by her mother, but she was too weary to protest. Her mother slipped a cotton robe around Corky, then helped her tie the belt. “This isn’t going to be easy,” she told her daughter. “But we’ll manage.”
Corky sighed in response and started toward the bathroom.
“Do you want me to help you get in the tub?” Mrs. Corcoran called after her. “You’ve got to be very careful.”
“No, thanks, I’ll manage,” Corky said.
She stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind her. The room was steamy and warm. The steam felt good against her cheeks.
She bent and turned off the water with her left hand.
“Just call me Lefty,” she said aloud.
She stared down into the deep aqua tub. The bath looked inviting. Every muscle in her body ached.
This is going to feel good, she thought.
She had started to pull off the robe when she realized that someone was standing behind her. She turned quickly.
First she saw the maroon and white cheerleader outfit.
Then she saw the girl’s face.
“Kimmy!” Corky cried in surprise. “What are you doing here?”
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Chapter 22
Corky’s Bath
The white steam rose up around Kimmy. Her dark eyes glowed in the misty light.
“I wanted to get rid of you forever,” she said coldly, speaking in a low, husky voice.
Corky backed up against the closed bathroom door. “Kimmy—what? What are you saying? You’re frightening me.”
Kimmy’s normally pink cheeks flushed scarlet. “I’m not Kimmy,” she announced in the strange, husky voice.
“Kimmy, listen—” Corky started. Her ribs ached. Pain throbbed down her arm. “I’m so tired. I—”
“You didn’t cooperate,” Kimmy said, taking a step toward Corky. “You were supposed to die—like your sister.”
“Now, wait!” Corky cried. “Kimmy—”
“I’m not Kimmy!” she snarled, then let out a roar that blew away all the steam. “I am what you fear most!”
“No!” Corky tried to shriek, raising her good hand to fend off the menacing figure before her.
The puzzle is solved, she realized, feeling paralyzed by dread, unable to move, to call for help, to take her eyes off the advancing girl.
The puzzle is solved.
The evil spirit is revealed.
It’s been inside Kimmy.
“Where is Kimmy?” Corky demanded, finding her voice. “What have you done with Kimmy? Did you kill her?”
At first the creature didn’t respond. Her dark eyes reddened, then glowed like fire. Her hair—Kimmy’s black hair—rose up around her head, flew up like dark flames.
The low, raspy voice declared, “I have been in Kimmy ever since that night. That night in the cemetery. The night you thought you sent me back to my grave!”
Corky stared in silent horror into the creature’s eyes, glowing like coals on a fire, at the dark hair flying wildly around its face.
“You thought you were defeating me,” the evil spirit continued. “You should have known better. Ronnie was there too. And Debra was there. And Kimmy, lucky Kimmy.”
“You moved from Jennifer’s body to Kimmy’s,” Corky whispered, slumping weakly back against the door.
Kimmy’s eyes grew even brighter, so bright Corky had to look away. “Why?” Corky asked. “Why are you doing this? Why did you kill Chip and Jon? Why are you trying to kill me?”
“Kimmy’s enemies became my enemies,” the voice rasped. “I paid Chip back for dumping Kimmy and for liking you. Jon was following me everywhere. He was coming too close to the truth. I knew that when I saw him with Sarah Beth.” She paused. Her dark eyes narrowed icily. “He’s gone now.”
“But why kill me?” Corky cried in a shrill, frightened voice she didn’t recognize.
“I have to pay you back for that night in the cemetery. You tried to destroy me. Now you must be destroyed.”
“No!” Corky cried. She reached for the doorknob.
But the door wouldn’t budge.
“Time for your bath,” the husky voice said. “So nice of you to draw a hot, steamy tub. Now, Corky dear, you can die like your sister.”
With startling strength, Kimmy grabbed Corky by the hair, jerked her toward the tub, and started to force her head down into the hot water.
Chapter 23
Down the Drain
“Ohh!” Corky tried to pull back as Kimmy pushed her head down toward the steaming tub.
But Kimmy was too powerful.
The steaming water seemed to rise up to meet Corky.
I’m going to drown, she thought.
I’m going to die now.
She closed her eyes as her face met the water.
So hot. So burning hot.
She held her breath. Twisted her body. Tried to force her head up.
Kimmy pushed with inhuman strength.
Deeper. Corky felt the water fill her ears. Rise up over her hair.
I’m drowning now.
I’m dead.
Pictures whirred wildly through her mind. Faces. All of her friends. People she didn’t recognize.
Her chest ached.
I can’t hold my breath much longer. My lungs are going to explode.
More pictures raced through her mind. A jumble of faces. She saw her family. She saw Sean. Sad-faced Sean.
Now he won’t get to sign my cast, she thought.
He’ll wake up, and I’ll be dead.
Dead, dead, dead.
And Sean will be alone.
No! A voice screamed in her head.
No—I can’t let this happen! I can’t let the evil win again!
As her fear turned to anger and her anger flamed to desperate rage, Corky reared up against the powerful force with all her strength—and swung the heavy cast.
“Oh!” Kimmy groaned as the elbow of the cast clubbed the back of her head.
Momentarily stunned, her fiery eyes faded to black. She stumbled forward.
And as she stumbled, Corky stood up, water pouring off her head. She grabbed Kimmy’s wildly flying black hair with her left hand, jerked the head downward with all her might—and pushed Kimmy’s face into the steaming hot water.
Corky turned and, still grasping Kimmy’s hair with her good hand, leaned the cast on Kimmy’s head. And pushed.
Down. Down.
Kimmy’s head was entirely submerged.
She struggled to get up. Her arms flailed frantically. She kicked with her legs. She strained to raise her head.
Her chest heaving, the pain shooting through her body, Corky leaned all of her weight against Kimmy’s head, pushing, pushing it down, bearing down with the heavy cast.
Kimmy thrashed and fought.
She pushed up with inhuman strength, pushed up, up, strained against Corky’s cast, struggling to remove her head from the water.
“Drown! Drown!” Corky said without even realizing it. “Drown! Drown!”
And then Kimmy’s mouth opened wide.
A raging wind poured from her mouth.
Into the water.
A wind so hot, so fierce, the water instantly began to boil and bubble.
And still Corky pressed down. Battling the force, she pushed Kimmy’s head back down, submerging it so the raging wind made boiling tidal waves roll across the tub.
The tiny room filled with steam. Thick, white clouds of it rose up from the tub, scalding hot. Corky began to choke on it.
I can’t see, she realized. It’s thicker than any fog.
She couldn’t see her own arm. Couldn’t see the cast. Could no longer see the head she was holding under the water.
The white steam grew even thicker.
Corky blindly choked, gasping for air.
And hung on.
Hung on to the struggling head as the wind raged and the bathwater tossed and churned. Hung on blindly.
I’m suffocating, she thought. I can’t breathe. I’m drowning in a cloud. Drowning in a thick, scalding cloud.
Suffocating … like Bobbi.
But she held on. And pushed. Pushed with her remaining strength, pushed in spite of her pain, pressed the head under the rolling hot water.
The steam cleared. Corky could see again.
Under the water Kimmy uttered a loud groan.
A disgusting green liquid poured from her mouth. The stench of it rose up from the tossing water.
Corky gagged, struggled to hold her breath, trying not to breathe.
The thick green liquid oozed out of Kimmy’s mouth. Took shape. Formed a long snakelike figure.
Longer, longer.
It coiled around the bottom of the tub. More. More rolled out of Kimmy’s open mouth.
“Drown! Drown! Drown! Please—drown!” Corky screamed.
Leaning on Kimmy’s head with the cast, she reached down and pulled open the drain.
She heard a gurgling sound.
And stared in disbelief as the foul-smelling, green liquid snake was sucked down the drain.
Chapter 24
The End?
As it oozed down the drain, the thick green liq
uid made a disgusting sucking sound that grew louder and louder, echoing in Gorky’s head, vibrating, vibrating until the walls appeared to shake.
Still holding Kimmy’s head down even though the water had been drained, Corky held her breath, trying to avoid the putrid odor that invaded her nostrils.
The white steam, rising from the tub, rolled over her, wrapped her up like a hot, wet blanket.
The last of the undulating green gunk gurgled into the drain.
Corky shut her eyes. When she opened them, the steam had vanished. The room was clear.
Silence.
She stared down into the tub.
The green ooze was gone.
The water had drained out too.
Kimmy uttered a low cry.
With a sob of relief, Corky loosened her grip on Kimmy’s head.
“Hey!” Kimmy cried. In her old voice, not the frightening, raspy voice of the evil spirit.
“Hey!” Bent over the empty tub, Kimmy shook her head, beads of water rolling off her black curls.
Reluctantly, Corky let go of Kimmy’s head and backed away from the tub, her arm throbbing under the heavy cast, her entire body aching.
Kimmy turned around slowly, her dark eyes wide with confusion. She pushed herself up from the tub and stood breathing hard, her chest heaving. She stared at Corky as if she didn’t recognize her.
“Corky?” she cried uncertainly, squinting, her mouth dropping open. Her eyes darted around the small room. “Where am I? What am I doing here?”
Despite her weariness, Corky let out a whoop of joy. “Kimmy, is it you?”
The question seemed to confuse Kimmy even more.
Corky offered her a hand. “Kimmy, I don’t believe it!” She helped pull Kimmy to her feet.
Kimmy gripped the sink to steady herself. “But how …? I mean, I don’t understand.” She suddenly reached up and grabbed her hair with both hands. “I—I’m wet. I don’t—”
“Take it easy,” Corky said softly. “Let’s get out of here. Let’s go downstairs, and—”
“But how did I get here?” Kimmy demanded. “I was in the Fear Street cemetery. You were struggling. Wrestling with Jennifer over that open grave.”
“That’s the last thing you remember?” Corky exclaimed. “Kimmy, that was months ago!”