by R. L. Stine
“You want to lock me up again, don’t you?” Gena accused. “You want to lock me away in that gray hospital. But you can’t, Maggie. You can’t! I got out once. I’m not going back!”
“When?” Maggie asked, desperate to keep her talking. “When did you get out?”
“Just before you moved here,” Gena said. “I came back to my house. But everyone was gone. So I had to live up here.”
“In the attic?”
Gena nodded.
“You’ve been living up here the whole time?”
Gena nodded again. “Your house is empty all day long. I had the place to myself. I don’t eat much, so nobody missed the food I took out of the fridge. And the way you all leave your keys laying around—it was so easy to get one made. I could come and go as I pleased.”
Suddenly she sprang forward without warning.
She grabbed Maggie by the hair and pulled hard, with surprising strength.
“Ow! Let go!” Maggie cried out, trying to break free.
But Gena had caught her off balance.
Maggie fell hard.
Grasping Maggie’s hair, Gena pulled her head back, exposing Maggie’s throat.
She raised the knife.
She held it high as they both heard rapid footsteps up the creaking attic stairs.
“Hey!” Andrea’s startled face appeared in the open stairwell.
“Hi, Andrea,” Gena said casually as if they were old friends. “I’m going to kill your sister for you now.”
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Gena tugged Maggie’s hair hard until Maggie’s head rested on the bed. “I’m ready, Andrea,” she announced.
“Andrea!” Maggie cried in horror. “You—you planned this with her?”
Andrea climbed into the room. “Wait—” she said softly.
“Do you really hate me that much?” Maggie shrieked.
“Wait!” Andrea insisted, louder, moving toward them over the creaking floorboards. “Who are you?” Andrea cried to Gena. “Let go of her!”
“But I’m doing it for you, Andrea,” Gena replied, sounding hurt. “She’s mean to you. She’s mean—like Miranda.”
“For me?” Andrea cried. “What did you do for me?”
“I did everything for you,” Gena replied softly.
“Maggie—I’ve never seen her before!” Andrea cried. “Never! You’ve got to believe me!”
“Stop her!” Maggie choked out, staring up at the knife.
Gena pulled harder on her hair, bending her back on the bed. The pain roared down Maggie’s body, paralyzing her.
“Stop her, Andrea! Don’t let her kill me!” Maggie pleaded.
“I did everything for you, Andrea,” Gena continued, ignoring Maggie’s terrified cries. “I hurt those two girls for you. So you could be on the swim team.”
“You what?” Andrea shrieked.
“Oh, no,” Maggie gasped. “She’s the one who hurt Dawn and Tiffany. I don’t believe it.”
“And I pushed the knife into your sister’s pillow, Andrea,” Gena confessed proudly. “You know. To give her a little scare. To get her ready for tonight.”
“But I don’t want you to kill her!” Andrea wailed. “Who are you? What is going on? How did you get into our house?”
“Shut up, Andrea,” Gena said softly.
She lowered her gaze to Maggie. “It’s time,” she whispered. “It’s time for mean sisters to die.”
With a desperate cry, Maggie reached up and grabbed Gena’s hand, the hand that gripped her hair.
“Ow!” Gena cried out as Maggie dug her fingernails into the girl’s wrist.
Gena jerked her hand free, releasing Maggie’s hair.
She brought the knife down—hard and fast.
Maggie rolled out from under it.
The blade cut into the mattress an inch from Maggie’s side.
Maggie struggled to pull herself off the bed.
But Gena dove on top of her, knocking her back with such force that Maggie’s head bashed into the headboard.
Just like in the dream!
The thought flashed into Maggie’s mind.
The nightmare—it’s coming true.
They struggled on top of the mattress. Gena was too strong, too determined.
She brought the knife down again.
Maggie uttered a terrified moan as everything went black.
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Everything went black.
But Maggie realized she was still alive, still struggling in the darkness. wThe knife had missed her.
She squirmed free from Gena’s grasp. Rolled off the bed.
And realized why everything had gone dark.
Andrea had pulled the canopy down on top of them.
“Quick!” Andrea urged. “Maggie—quick!”
Andrea held one end of the canopy and motioned frantically to Maggie.
Maggie didn’t hesitate. She grabbed the other end of the canopy—and they lowered it over Gena.
Gena kicked and struggled, trying to get free.
The hand holding the knife shot out.
Andrea grabbed the wrist, and pulled open the fingers. The knife bounced onto the floor.
“Wrap her up!” Maggie cried.
Working together, the two sisters began to wrap the squirming girl in the canopy.
“What on earth—” Mrs. Travers cried from the stairwell.
“Call the police! Hurry, Mom!” Maggie called.
They heard her run to the phone to call the police.
Gena was wrapped tightly in the canopy. She stopped struggling and lay still on the bed.
“I—I hope you can explain this all to me,” Andrea said, holding Gena down, struggling to catch her breath.
“I think I can,” Maggie replied, forcing a smile. “For the first time, I think I can.”
“Do you really think Gena’s older sister made me dream that dream? Do you really think she was trying to warn me about Gena?” Maggie asked.
Mrs. Travers sipped her coffee. “That’s as good an explanation as any,” she replied thoughtfully.
Maggie, Andrea, and their mom were sitting around the kitchen table, sipping coffee from white mugs. The police had just left, taking Gena with them. Through the kitchen window, they could see the red morning sun lifting itself over the trees.
“Old Gus really protected us, didn’t he?” Maggie said, rolling her eyes.
Hearing his name, Gus trotted in from the living room. He rested his head on Maggie’s thigh.
Maggie patted his warm head. “What a good guard dog, you are, Gussie. Yes. You’re a real killer. Thanks for telling us we had someone living with us in the house this whole time!”
Gus gazed up at her adoringly, as if he were being given the highest praise.
Maggie smiled at Andrea. “You saved my life.”
Andrea shrugged. “Hey—it was the least I could do.”
“You can have the canopy bed now,” Maggie offered, grinning.
“No thanks. You have it,” Andrea replied.
“No, really,” Maggie insisted. “You have it.”
“No way!” Andrea cried.
“Maybe we’ll give it to Gus,” Mrs. Travers suggested. “He deserves some bad dreams!”
“Could I have a water bed?” Andrea asked their mother suddenly.
“Yeah. You could practice your breaststroke in it!” Maggie teased.
“There’s nothing wrong with my breaststroke,” Andrea insisted sharply. “It’ll be good enough to beat you at the meet!”
“The swim meet!” Maggie cried in alarm. “It’s today—and we’ve been up all night!”
“What a nightmare!” Andrea shrieked.
“Please—” Maggie rested a hand on top of her sister’s. “Don’t ever use that word in this house again.”
“Nightmare! Nightmare! Nightmare!” Andrea chanted.
“Sisters,” Mrs. Travers muttered dryly, shaking her head.
Gu
s nodded his head as if he agreed totally.
“Good night, all,” Maggie said, climbing up and starting to her room. “Good night—and sweet dreams.”
About the Author
“Where do you get your ideas?”
That’s the question that R. L. Stine is asked most often. “I don’t know where my ideas come from,” he says. “But I do know that I have a lot more scary stories in my mind that I can’t wait to write.”
So far, he has written nearly three dozen mysteries and thrillers for young people, all of them bestsellers.
Bob grew up in Columbus, Ohio. Today he lives in an apartment near Central Park in New York City with his wife, Jane, and thirteen-year-old son, Matt.
Dear Readers,
Welcome to Fear Street—where your worst nightmares live! It’s a terrifying place for Shadyside High students—and for YOU!
Did you know that the sun never shines on the old mansions of Pear Street? No birds chirp in the Fear Street woods. And at night, eerie moans and howls ring through the tangled trees.
I’ve written nearly a hundred Fear Street novels, and I am thrilled that millions of readers have enjoyed all the frights and chills in the books. Wherever I go, kids ask me when I’m going to write a new Fear Street trilogy.
Well, now I have some exciting news, I am writing a brand new Fear Street trilogy right now. The three new books are called FEAR STREET NIGHTS. The saga of Simon and Angelica Fear and the unspeakable evil they cast over the teenagers of Shadyside will continue in these new books. Yes, Simon and Angelica Fear are back to bring terror to the teens of Shadyside,
The new FEAR STREET NIGHTS will be published Summer 2005, Don’t miss it, I’m very excited to return to Fear Street—and I hope you will be there with me for all the good, scary fun!
THE NIGHTMARES NEVER END … WHEN YOU VISIT
Next: DOUBLE DATE
Girl-chaser Bobby Newkirk boasts to his friends that he can go out with both identical Wade twins, Bree and Samantha, in one weekend. But Bobby soon discovers that dating quiet Bree and wild Samantha may prove fatal. He’s sure one of the Wade twins is out to get him—the question is, which one?
the party room
by Morgan Burke
The party room is where all the prep school kids drink up and hook up. All you need is a fake ID and your best Juicy Couture to get in.
One night, Samantha Byrne leaves with some guy no one’s ever seen before … and ends up dead in Central Park. Murdered gruesomely. Found at the scene of the crime: a school tie from Talcott Prep.
New York is suddenly in the grip of a raging media frenzy. And a serial killer walks amidst Manhattan’s most privileged—and indulged—teens.
And the party isn’t over yet. … Last Call in June 2005!
Published by Simon Pulse