by K. Weikel
THE HUNTED MANSION #2:
THE HAUNTED BAND ROOM
K. WEIKEL
THE HAUNTED BAND ROOM
K. Weikel
Published by K. Weikel Publishing
Copyright © 2005 by K. Weikel
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For my parents and family: thank you for always being there and supporting my decisions.
And to my teacher Mrs. Limas. Thank you for the confidence boost you gave me with my writing.
1. MAYBE THE END, MAYBE NOT
Hi! Remember me?
Yeah, I’m a ghost. So what?
I bet you remember Katelin. You know, the one who saved me from a vampire? Well… let’s just say this was probably the end. Let’s refresh your memory.
Katelin fiddled for the doorknob. She bumped her hand against it and slowly turned it. Bright light! Twelve werewolves pounced at Katelin, but after her short scream, everything disappeared.
“What just happened?” I croaked.
“I-I-I d-don’t know,” she replied.
I gulped, “There has to be a solution.”
“Yeah. But what?” she asked.
“I-I don’t know.”
“Megan, if you say there has to be a solution, what is it?”
I didn’t answer.
“Megan?!”
I still didn’t.
“MEGAN!!”
“What is it?”
“I told you—”
“Okay, now you’re freaking me out with that disappearing act.”
“Not me—” I whispered.
Then faded.
2. FRIEND OF FAUX?
You know I hate playing those ‘games’ right? Well I can kinda control my temper. Kinda not.
I walked to the end of the street to the eerie old house and knocked on the door that looked as if it was about to come off of its hinges.
I wasn’t surprised when the white, clammy gloves greeted me.
“Boo!” I shrieked.
The gloves jerked back like they were startled.
I laughed hard.
There were now white, clammy, scardy-hands!
“Katelin is not!” boomed a voice.
“Hey! Do not look at me! It is not my fault!” shrieked another.
“Yes. It is. You had responsibility of the girl. You have to do it!”
I peeked through the door. There I saw a werewolf, a vampire, a bat, a black cat, a ghost, and the pair of hands. The cat was speaking.
“It’s still not my fault!”
“Yessss!” the vampire hissed.
“I know where she was. She was at her house. Now—”
“I smell blood,” the vampire said. “Human blood. It is familiar.”
He sniffed the air.
“Yessss! Blood!”
I held my breath and hid around the corner and in the darkness of the walls protruding from door just as he stepped out.
He sniffed.
“My ssscent isss gone.”
I peeked back in the room.
“We can’t—!”
Megan? I thought.
“She’s my friend! I don’t want her to end up like me!”
3. I SEE YOU!
“Megan?” I croaked in a low whisper. She and the cat cocked their head my direction.
“Huh?”
I gasped, and ran. Out of the spooky old mansion. The last thing I saw was Megan running out of the Band Room.
I saw that my house came back!
I sprung into my house and ran to my room, slamming the door shut. I jumped onto my bed and thought: How could she? I mean her! She just—!
“Ughhh!” I groaned.
I grabbed my diary, hearing my hermit crab wake up. I walked over to Gravity (my hermit crab) and wet his sponge. I changed his food, and moved his two loose shells from the sand. After I finished, I started to write:
August 25, 2006
Dear Diery,
Megan betrayed me. I don’t want to trust her anymore, but because of the way she stood up for me in front of a vampire, werewolf, cat, bat, a ghost, and a pair of floating hands, I kinda sorta still trust her. I’m confused. Help me Diery!
Sinceraly,
Katelin.
P.S. WHAT SHOULD I DO!
“I see you!”
4. WHY?
“Wh-wha-WHAT!” I said.
I jumped and turned from my diary.
“Why?” Megan asked, her eyes watery.
“Why what?” I croaked.
“Why did you go back?” she cried.
“What do you mean? I went back because of you.”
“Yeah, but you—”
A long silence fell between the two of us. Two girls. Ghost and human.
“You—don’t—trust me. Do you?”
I ignored the question.
“DO YOU?!” she screeched.
“Barely.” I whispered.
“What?” She whispered back.
“Barely,” I said louder.
“Thought so.” She turned away, sniffling. “I now feel alone.”
“Why?”
“No one trusts me anymore!”
“Well I do!” I said. “Sort of.”
“See? You’ve changed!”
“Sort of!”
“Who you talking to, Kat?” my dad smiled as he walked in.
“Um…” I looked at Megan, who was staring at me with wide-eyes. If I told him who I really was talking to, he would think I was insane! “Myself.”
“Well, keep it down, would ya?”
“Sure dad,” I said and he closed the door.
I realized I was holding my breath.
I released air out of my lungs, and breathed in, out, in, out.
“You better not come back tomorrow,” she said to me after a quick silence.
“Why?”
“Because that’s where—when they will be making the plan.” Her voice dropped down to a whisper, and I could barely hear her. She looked over her shoulders like someone could hear her.
“So what’s the plan?” I asked because she didn’t tell me.
“Just don’t go back,” She said sternly.
“Okay, okay.”
She gave me a look like she didn’t completely believe me.
“Promise?” She held her hand out for me to shake.
I sighed and put my hand in hers, moving it up and down.
“I promise.”
5. IT’S HORRIBLE!!
The next morning, I woke up in my bed. I know I promised Megan that I wouldn’t go over to the Haunted Mansion at the end of the street, but I had the guts and the thrills to go back and see what they’d planned.
I walked into the kitchen to find my mom getting my six-year-old brother named Dawson cereal.
I got down a bowl and a cup from the cabinets. Cereal made a clanging sound in the bowl as I poured it. The milk made them crackle.
“Someone’s in a good mood,” my mom said to me.
“Something like that,” I smiled.
“Who are you, and what have you done with my daughter?” She joked.
“Nothing,” I responded to my mom.
When I finished eating, I threw on some flip-flops and a different pair o
f clothes. I opened the front door, and the warm air greeted me.
“Two. Days.” I whispered, and then I walked out of the door.
It took a few minutes for me to get to the end of the street, but I managed. I, once more, knocked on the eerie doors. The two gloves greeted me and I nodded, confirming that they were still there, and walked away. When the gloves were gone, I leaped through an open, rusty, broken window.
I walked through the cobwebbed kitchen I had stepped into and headed up the stairs, stopping at the band room doorway.
“We have two days until her birthday. I’d say, we’d better do it now, or else, she might find out how to defeat us. We need more power. Just enough to overcome her strength, to overcome her powers. Just enough to do just that.”
6. THE HORROR
Powers? I thought. What powers?
I thought so hard, I forgot about the ghosts and stuff.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the black cat looming around and I saw its ears perk up.
“Oh no!” I sighed.
I ran. I didn’t care if they were following me, I didn’t care if they were lunatics! I didn’t care at all. All I was caring about right there and then was to get out of there!
I ran to the door. I yanked it open; a soft, warm wind greeted me. I burst out the door and ran, without stopping, all the way to my house.
I quickly and quietly opened the door to my entryway slowly. As my sketchers went clunk, clunk, I walked down the hall. I quietly opened my bedroom door and kicked off my shoes.
I was flopping on my bed when Megan appeared.
“Go. Away.” I whispered.
“Why?” she asked.
“Just. Go. Away.” I was pushing it!
“But—”
“I said, go away!”
I could tell she was mad, but I know she was happy still, and shy, but brave.
I knew she was always alone, and I knew she told me not to go back, I knew she was my best friend, I knew what she has to live with too, but I shouldn’t trust her. 1) Because she tells me, well almost tells me, what to do. 2) She barely listens to me. 3) I ask her questions and she ignores them. 4) I don’t know what else. I’ve only known her for five, maybe six days. I lost track.
Megan disappeared into thin air. Why wasn’t I used to it? I mean, YET?!!!
7. DEAR