Rampage of the Goblins

by Tommy Donbavand

  Previously on Scream Street…

  Mr and Mrs Watson were terrified when their son, Luke, first transformed into a werewolf. But that was nothing compared to their terror at being forcibly moved to Scream Street – and discovering there was no going back.

  Determined to take his parents home, Luke enlisted the help of his new friends, Resus Negative, a wannabe vampire, and Cleo Farr, an Egyptian mummy, to find six relics left behind by the community’s founding fathers. Only by collecting these magical artefacts would he be able to open a doorway back to his own world.

  Just as Luke and his friends finally succeeded in their quest, Mr and Mrs Watson realized how happy Luke had become in his new home and decided to stay on in Scream Street. But the newly opened doorway was becoming a problem – Sir Otto Sneer, the street’s wicked landlord, was charging “normals” from Luke’s world to visit what he called “the world’s greatest freak show”.

  To protect Scream Street, Luke, Resus and Cleo must try to close the doorway by returning the relics to their original owners – and this time their quest involves precious gemstones, a terrible curse … and some very bad smells.

  Chapter One

  The Attic

  The faceless men stumbled like robots across the lawn towards the front of the house. Smooth, blank skin covered where their eyes, noses and mouths should have been. Each figure was dressed in a shiny purple jumpsuit with “G.H.O.U.L.” printed on the back.

  There was a slight shimmer in the air, then the ghost of a young boy materialized among the men. He studied them closely as they shambled towards the house.

  “Psst! Over here!” The voice was coming from a large bush in the middle of the front lawn. The ghost hovered towards it cautiously. “Er … hello?”

  A pale face appeared among the leaves, a tongue licking nervously over small fangs. “Get in here!” Resus Negative ordered.

  Obediently, the ghost floated into the small space at the centre of the bush where the vampire was hiding.

  “What’s going on?” he asked, intrigued.

  “You tell me,” replied Resus. “We’ve been watching this house for days – ever since the Spectre family moved away. I’ve got cramp in muscles I never knew I had!”

  “Why?”

  “Probably because I’ve been stuck in this bush since eight o’clock this mor—”

  “No,” said the ghost, “why have you been watching the house?”

  “So that we’d know when someone else moved in,” said Resus. “We needed to work out when the Movers would be busy so…” He paused, pushing a leafy branch to one side and allowing daylight to fall across the ghost’s face. “Hang on, I know you, don’t I?”

  The ghost nodded. “My name’s Ryan,” he said. “Ryan Aire. You helped to rescue me after I’d been kidnapped by the Nightwatchman.”

  Resus winced at the memory. The Night-watchman had been a dark, evil creature who terrorized sleeping children. The young vampire and his friends had very nearly died in his clutches. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  “We’re the ones moving in,” said Ryan with a smile. “When I returned home after you rescued me, I told my family all about you – the three brave kids from Scream Street. My dad said it was the sort of place we should live, so he asked G.H.O.U.L. to move us.”

  Resus couldn’t resist a grin. “Three brave kids, eh?” he said. “You know, I was the one who did most of the rescuing. The other two just followed my— Aargh!”

  One of the Movers had pulled Resus out of the bush and clamped a hand to his forehead. A voice echoed through the vampire’s mind: “Where do the CDs go?”

  Resus pulled the hand away crossly. “I’ve no idea where the CDs go!” he exclaimed. “This isn’t my stuff.”

  “Those are my mum’s CDs,” said Ryan, melting out of the bush. “I can show him where she keeps them. You can come too if you like…”

  But Resus was already hurrying across the lawn. “Another time,” he called back over his shoulder. “Right now I’ve got some news to pass on!” He leapt the garden fence and raced away.

  “I knew it wouldn’t be long before the Movers had a job on,” said Resus as he crossed Scream Street’s central square with his friends, Luke Watson and Cleo Farr. “This is our chance.”

  “Did Ryan say where the Spectres had moved to?” asked Cleo.

  “I didn’t ask,” admitted Resus. “I left straight away to get you two. What matters is that with the Movers out of the way we can get up into their attic and give Heru back his relic!”

  He pulled an ancient, mummified heart from under his cape. The organ, wrapped in bandages, was the third of six relics the trio had collected in order to open a doorway back to Luke’s world. However, they now had to return it to its original donor to close the portal and rid the community of invading tourists.

  A thin, ginger-haired man stood by the multi-coloured doorway in the middle of the square. He gave the trio a cheery wave, then turned to collect money from another group of normals as they stepped through into Scream Street.

  “Look,” said Cleo with glee. “They’re having to stoop to get in!” Luke and Resus watched as a particularly tall man bent down to fit through.

  The doorway had originally been made up of six different-coloured bands of light, but each time the trio returned one of the founding fathers’ relics, one of the stripes in the arch disappeared. With two relics already returned, only four colours remained: yellow, purple, green and orange. And the doorway was definitely shrinking.

  “They’ll be crawling in on their hands and knees before long,” grinned Resus.

  “Not soon enough for my liking,” said Luke with a sigh as he watched the group of normals beginning to explore the square. “Come on…”

  The trio dodged through the crowds until they reached the Movers’ own house, number 5. Resus was about to slide one of his fake fingernails into the lock on the front door when Cleo stopped him.

  “Try this,” she suggested, handing him a small object. Luke looked at it over Resus’s shoulder and saw what appeared to be finger bones.

  Resus stared in astonishment. “A skeleton key!” he exclaimed. “I’ve never seen one in real life. Where on earth did you get it?”

  “Back when we were still in Egypt, a couple of explorers broke into my tomb,” Cleo explained. “They were going to use this to open my sarcophagus before my dad burst in and scared them off. They dropped it as they fled.”

  “Can it open anything?” asked Luke.

  Cleo shrugged. “I’ve never used it before.”

  “Hang on,” said Resus. “If you’ve had a skeleton key all this time, why have I been risking my nails in every locked door and window we’ve come across?”

  “I’d forgotten all about it until last night,” said Cleo. “I found it in an old jewellery box when I was tidying my room.”

  “Typical,” scowled Resus. “What else have you got stashed away in your room that we could have used? A banshee silencer? A set of rat pulverizers?”

  Luke snatched the key from Resus impatiently. “Are we going to use this, or argue about it?” He slipped it into the lock. At first it seemed too small, but slowly the bones began to move, expanding and realigning until they fitted perfectly.

  The key then turned of its own accord and the door swung open. Luke quickly ushered his friends inside and Cleo closed the door behind them, plunging the house into blackness. The trio crept tentatively along the silent hallway.

  “I don’t know why the Movers insist on living in the dark,” said Resus, pulling a flaming torch from his cloak.

  “They’re blind,” Cleo reminded him. “Why would they need lights?”

  Resus shrugged. “We can’t be the
first people ever to visit them.”

  “By ‘visiting them’, I assume you mean ‘breaking in’?” said Luke. “That’s what we’re doing, remember – so keep your voices down!”

  The vampire led the way, keeping a look-out in case one of the Movers had decided to take a day off and stay at home.

  At the top of the stairs, they stopped at the foot of a ladder leading up to the attic.

  “This is it,” said Luke. “Just remember to watch out for the spiders.”

  Cleo shuddered. The last time the three children had entered this attic, they had become trapped in thick webbing and almost been smothered by the thousands of tiny black spiders that had been placed around Heru’s sarcophagus to guard it.

  Resus gripped the handle of his torch. “The spiders hate fire, remember?” he said. “Leave them to me. I’ll be right behind you.”

  Luke began to climb the ladder. When he reached the top, he slid back the bolt and pushed open the trapdoor in the ceiling before climbing through it into the attic.

  Cleo and Resus clambered after him and the three of them stood silently for a moment.

  “The spiders…” said Cleo, cocking her head to one side. “I can’t hear them.”

  “Me neither,” agreed Luke. “The webs are still here, though.”

  Resus held the torch out at arm’s length. Swathes of dull, grey gossamer hung limply from the roof beams. “It’s all dried out!” he exclaimed.

  “I don’t like the look of this,” Luke admitted.

  “So, the spiders have gone,” said Cleo. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

  Resus shrugged. “I suppose so,” he said. “It means we won’t have to fight our way past them to get to Heru.”

  “I’m not worried about the spiders,” said Luke. “But what’s Heru doing without anything to protect his sarcophagus?”

  “Maybe he didn’t need them once he gave you his relic?” suggested Cleo.

  “Maybe,” Luke replied, unconvinced. “Let’s find him as quick as we can, give the heart back and get out of here.”

  Luke felt more of the dry gossamer brush against his cheek as he pressed on across the attic, the others close behind. The old webbing deadened the sound of their footsteps, and he could hear his own heartbeat thumping loudly in his ears. Then he saw a movement in the shadows ahead.

  He could just make out a figure in the gloom, seated by the furthest wall. “Heru?” he whispered. “We’ve got something for you…”

  “I’m afraid Heru doesn’t live here any more,” growled a deep voice.

  A lump caught in Luke’s throat and he squinted at the speaker in the dim light. It couldn’t be…

  But it was. Sitting in an armchair in the exact spot where Heru’s sarcophagus should have been was Scream Street’s landlord, Sir Otto Sneer.

  Chapter Two

  The Mouse

  “What are you doing here?” Luke asked incredulously.

  Sir Otto bit down on his cigar. “You were expecting someone else?” he teased.

  “Where’s Heru?” Cleo demanded. “What have you done with him?”

  The landlord pulled a mock-innocent face. “Done with him?” he asked. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about…”

  “Don’t play games with us!” snapped Resus.

  “Or what?” demanded the landlord, jumping to his feet. “Do you really think three kids can get one over on me?”

  “The doorway to my world is shrinking, Sneer,” said Luke. “We’ve already returned two of the founding fathers’ relics…”

  Sir Otto blew a cloud of noxious cigar smoke into Luke’s face. “And that’s where it stops, boy,” he snarled. “You might have won a battle or two, but it is I who shall prevail in the war!” He smoothed a crease from the white silk scarf tied around his neck. “After all – how can you give Heru back his heart if he’s not here?”

  “We’ll find him,” Luke assured the landlord. “Just you watch!”

  A mouse scuttled in front of them, its whiskers twitching.

  “Blasted mice everywhere!” bellowed Sir Otto, swinging his leg and kicking the rodent across the attic floor.

  Cleo hurried over to where it had slammed into the wall. “You monster!” she cried, collecting up the dazed mouse and cradling it in her palm.

  Sir Otto spat out the butt of his cigar and crushed it with his boot. Pulling a fresh one from his pocket, he leant in to Resus to light it from the flaming torch. “This has been fun,” he rumbled. “I’d love it if we could get together like this more often. But I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible…”

  As he finished speaking, three Movers stepped out of the darkness behind the children. The landlord touched his fingers to the forehead of the one standing closest to him. “Take them downstairs,” he instructed.

  Luke struggled as the Mover secured the final leather restraint around his wrist. He, Resus and Cleo were all strapped into chairs in the Movers’ kitchen, their hands, feet and necks securely bound.

  Sir Otto entered carrying the flaming torch. “You might have wondered why the Movers have no facial features,” he growled. “The reason is this: if they cannot see, hear, taste or smell, they can never accidentally reveal the true location of G.H.O.U.L.’s communities.”

  “How interesting,” said Luke sarcastically. “Have you ever considered taking over from Dr Skully?”

  Sir Otto ignored the remark and wedged the torch behind the door handle. “Contrary to popular belief,” he continued, “Movers are not born as obedient robots. They start out just like you or me – well, me anyway – and have their senses removed manually.”

  “You mean they’re human?” Cleo gasped, struggling to turn her head and look up at the smooth-skinned face of the Mover beside her.

  “They’re more than just human,” replied the landlord. “They’re normals. Usually the meddlesome type who stick their noses into vampire sightings and rumours of zombies. The type who ask too many questions. Occasionally one of them discovers the existence of a place such as Scream Street, and then G.H.O.U.L. is forced to, shall we say … take them out of the picture.”

  “They’re turned into Movers against their will?” cried Resus. “That’s barbaric!”

  “It is indeed,” Sir Otto agreed. “I could be charging those same normals to come in and look around!”

  “You’re despicable,” growled Luke as his straps were tightened.

  “Yes,” beamed the landlord, “I am, aren’t I? I have told the Movers that you are to be recruited to the cause. Your eyes, noses, ears and mouths will be removed and replaced with skin from your backs.”

  Cleo whimpered softly and shrank back in her chair.

  Sir Otto leant down to give her a malicious smile. “I’ll inform your parents that you set off on another of your little adventures and – sadly – failed to return. And the best part is that you’ll never be able to tell anyone any different!”

  Resus swallowed hard, his mouth dry.

  Sir Otto pressed his hand against the forehead of the nearest Mover. “Begin with the werewolf,” he ordered. “If he tries to transform, you’ll find two more ‘volunteers’ at number 13 – his parents!” With a final glare at the children, he turned and marched out of the kitchen. A few seconds later they heard the front door slam behind him.

  The faceless men began to root through the kitchen for makeshift tools. One of them produced an ice-cream scoop from a drawer.

  “OK,” gulped Resus. “This is officially bad! What do we do?”

  “I don’t know,” admitted Luke. “I could change into my werewolf and try to fight back, but I don’t dare in case they go after my mum and dad next.”

  “Look!” hissed Cleo as something in the shadows caught her attention. “It’s the mouse from the attic – the one Sir Otto kicked.”

  “Brilliant,” scoffed Resus. “We’re about to get our eyes popped out of our heads, and all you care about is some stupid rodent.”

  “Just look
at it!” insisted Cleo. “It’s getting bigger!”

  Luke winced as another of the Movers picked up a pair of rusty scissors.

  “She’s right!” exclaimed Resus. “The mouse is growing!”

  “Oh good,” said Luke. “Do let me know when it’s big enough to leave home and get a nest of its own…”

  “Not that kind of growing!” yelled Cleo. She watched in amazement as the creature’s ears shrank back into its head and its tail widened, gradually growing into a thick flap of material.

  The Movers, now with a hammer added to their toolkit, turned towards Luke.

  “Think of something – fast!” he cried.

  Resus was still looking at the mouse. “I don’t believe it…” he croaked. A human face appeared where the mouse’s nose and whiskers had been, and its soft, grey skin became a long leather coat. “It’s you!”

  One of the Movers raised the scissors to Luke’s face and Cleo screamed.

  Shakily, the figure stood, pressed his hand to the temple of the nearest Mover and barked a single word. “Stop!”

  Then he collapsed to the floor.

  Luke, Resus and Cleo helped Zeal Chillchase out into the Movers’ back garden, where he slumped against the house, clutching at his side. It had clearly taken a supreme effort for him to stand and untie all three children.

  Cleo knelt beside him. “Are you OK?” she asked. Zeal Chillchase was the Tracker who had moved Luke and his family to Scream Street, and while the children remained nervous of the powerful figure, he had proved to be a trusted ally by promising to help them in their quest to close the doorway to Luke’s world.

  “I think Sir Otto broke one of my ribs when he kicked me,” he wheezed. “If not for that, I’d have shapeshifted back and stopped the Movers earlier.”

  “Was it true what Sir Otto said?” asked Resus. “Does G.H.O.U.L. really turn nosy normals into Movers?”

  Zeal Chillchase shifted to ease his discomfort. “That used to be the way they did it,” he replied. “But not for decades. The Movers are immortal, so once G.H.O.U.L. had enough of them, they stopped recruiting.”