How I Met My Monster (9780545510172)

by Stine, R. L.

  I went past the second floor landing, turned, and started down to the first floor. But I stopped halfway when I heard strange sounds.

  Not talking.

  I heard a grunt. Then a low growl.

  I gripped the banister. It sounded like two dogs were having a fight down there.

  I peered down. The curve of the stairway hid them from sight.

  I heard an angry snarl. And then the sound of teeth gnashing. A squeal. Another squeal. Hard thumps. Like someone bumping the wall. And then two throaty growls.

  I held my breath and listened.

  Could there be a dogfight in the stairwell?

  My legs trembled. I gripped the banister tighter.

  I had to see what was going on down there.

  Loud growls erupted. More thumps and bumps.

  I lowered myself to the next stair. Then one more. Slowly, carefully, I crept down the stairway, gripping the banister tightly in my cold, clammy hand.

  The stairs turned. I stopped and stared. Stared in horror at three ugly monsters.

  Red-eyed. Covered in dark fur like gorillas. Growling and wrestling on the concrete floor. Swiping at each other. Snapping their long teeth playfully.

  Yes. They were playing. Three ugly, growling monsters wrestling for fun.

  “Noooo.” A frightened moan escaped my throat. I spun around and started to run up the stairs.

  Did they hear me?

  I heard growls and thuds.

  Yes. They were coming after me.

  My foot missed a step. I fell forward. Fell hard. Banged my knees on the metal stair. My glasses flew off.

  They had me. No way to escape them.

  I shut my eyes and waited for them to pounce.

  After a few terrifying seconds, I raised my head. I looked behind me.

  No monsters.

  I could hear their noisy wrestling match below. Their growls echoed up the narrow stairwell.

  They hadn’t seen me.

  Quickly, I pulled myself up. My knees throbbed. I rubbed them. I could feel blood on my leg. I’d cut both knees.

  Ignoring the pain, I grabbed my glasses and pulled myself back up the three flights to my apartment. I let myself in, breathing hard.

  “Mom — monsters!” My voice came out choked and small.

  She came into the hallway, wiping her hands on a red-and-white dish towel. “Bean? Back so soon? Where’s the sour cream?”

  “M-monsters,” I stuttered. I pointed frantically. “At the bottom of the stairs. Three of them.”

  Mom’s expression turned angry. “Bean, I don’t have time for this now. Dinner is going to be late.”

  “No. Mom. Please —” I pleaded. “Please listen to me. They’re down there. I saw them. They —”

  She folded the towel between her hands. “Deal with them, Bean.”

  I gasped. “Huh? Deal with them? Mom, what does that mean?”

  She didn’t answer. I grabbed her arm. My hand was icy and damp. “Come with me. Hurry. I’ll show you.”

  She pulled back. “Bean, I’m not happy about this. I’m trying to prepare dinner.”

  “Just come with me!” I screamed. I tugged her hard toward the apartment door.

  “Okay, okay. I’m coming.”

  I led the way onto the landing. “Three monsters,” I said. “You’ll see. You’ll see I’m not making it up.” I started down the first flight of stairs.

  She followed close behind. “Are you sure —?”

  I raised a finger to my lips. “Sssshhh. They’ll hear us.”

  “But, Bean —”

  “Mom. Sshhh. They’ll hear us. They’ll attack,” I whispered.

  My heart was racing. I didn’t want to go back down there. But I had to prove to Mom that I wasn’t crazy. I had to show her what I’d seen. I had to make her believe.

  I grabbed her hand as we drew close to the first floor. We followed the stairway as it curved.

  “You’ll see,” I whispered. “You’ll see.”

  We tiptoed silently down a few more stairs.

  Mom squeezed my hand. Another step. Another.

  And then I opened my mouth in a horrified cry.

  The landing was empty. No monsters. No one.

  Mom let go of my hand. She let out a sigh. “Bean, Bean, Bean,” she whispered. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “You — you’ve got to believe me,” I stammered. “They were here. I saw them.”

  “Of course they were,” she said. “There are monsters everywhere. Everywhere you look.”

  I scowled at her angrily. Why was she making fun of me? Why couldn’t I get her to take the whole thing seriously? There were real monsters here. My life was in danger. And all she did was laugh at me.

  I felt defeated. Weak and defeated. Too weak to argue with her.

  She gave me a gentle push with both hands. “Go get the sour cream.”

  I tried to call Lissa that night, but she didn’t answer her phone. I tried to think about other things. I didn’t want to go crazy being obsessed with monsters day and night. But I couldn’t concentrate on my math notebook. And I read a few chapters of The Call of the Wild without even seeing what I was reading.

  Face it. I was totally messed up.

  I kept thinking about Monroe and going over everything I’d seen. Every clue led to Monroe being a monster.

  This afternoon, those three monsters were wrestling on the first floor. And where does Monroe’s family live? On the first floor. They were wrestling just a few feet from his apartment.

  Were they Monroe and his brother and sister?

  What a mystery. My head was spinning. I was afraid to go to sleep. What if I had the monster dream again? What if the monster returned to my room, came to make me his next victim as he had promised?

  I stayed up really late, and then I slept a deep sleep without any dreams.

  The next day slid by in a blur. I struggled to listen to Mrs. Fielding and to do my schoolwork. But it was like my brain was in a different place.

  Lissa’s swim meet was after school. Monroe joined me as I crossed to the pool building. I didn’t really want to be with him. Face it, I was totally scared of him now.

  But I had no choice. I couldn’t tell him I didn’t want to sit with him.

  I opened the doors and was greeted by a roar of voices. A big crowd of kids and teachers had come to watch the first girls’ swim meet of the year.

  Lissa was doing her warm-up in the deep end of the pool. She moved gracefully through the sparkling blue water. The ceiling lights reflected in the pool, like spotlights shimmering on the surface. She raised her head and waved to us. Then went back to her steady strokes.

  I counted a dozen girls on our team. They all wore red-and-blue swimsuits, the school colors. When the other girls’ team arrived from Harding Middle School, the pool became jammed with swimmers.

  The voices, the whistles blowing, the laughter, the splashing water — the sounds rang loudly off the blue tile walls.

  Monroe and I sat in the third row on the far end of the bleachers. He mopped his forehead with one hand. “It’s hot in here,” he said. “And the air is so wet.” He wiped his sweat on my jeans leg.

  “Hey, give me a break,” I groaned. “Don’t you love the smell of chlorine?”

  “We should jump in the water,” he said. “Cool off.”

  I squinted at him. “In our clothes?”

  “It would be bold.” He snickered.

  “You go first,” I said.

  “Dare me?”

  Was he serious?

  We both laughed.

  I was pretending everything was normal. I didn’t want to give Monroe any clues that I was suspicious of him.

  Miss Greene, the girls’ team coach, blew her whistle, calling all the girls to the side. The Harding girls continued their warm-ups.

  “Lissa is in the first event,” I told Monroe. “She says it’s her best chance. She really wants to win this race.”

  “Loo
k at that girl!” Monroe said, pointing. He pointed to a Harding girl climbing out of the pool. She was big and powerful looking, and at least six feet tall. “Is she really in middle school? She’s a giant!”

  “Hope she isn’t racing against Lissa,” I said.

  A few minutes later, I knew that it wasn’t Lissa’s day.

  The tall, powerful Harding swimmer lined up to swim against her. Lissa was doomed.

  She swam well. She did her best. But she was no match for the Harding girl. Lissa finished nearly half a lap behind her.

  I watched Lissa slump unhappily at the side of the pool. Water dripped down her face. She didn’t even bother wiping it from her eyes. She kept shaking her head and muttering to herself.

  I felt bad. I knew the race meant a lot to her.

  I wanted to go tell her what a good job she did. But the next race was starting. Lissa pulled herself from the pool and, still shaking her head, walked to the team bench.

  “Too bad,” Monroe said. “Lissa didn’t stand a chance. That Harding girl could eat Lissa for lunch!”

  Why did Monroe think so much about lunch?

  And eating humans? Was that a clue?

  “Hey, I’ve got to go,” he said. He jumped off the side of the bleacher. “I only came to see Lissa. Are you staying?”

  I watched the next two girls start to swim. “Yeah, I’ll stay,” I said. “I want to wait and talk to Lissa.”

  “Later, dude.” He disappeared behind the bleachers.

  A cheer went up as the girl on our team reached the far end of the pool, kicked off the wall, and began to return. I turned and saw Lissa on the bench. Her head was down. She wasn’t even watching.

  A few of the races were close. But we lost almost all of them. The Harding team was just too strong.

  After the last race, the teams strode into the locker rooms. The bleachers emptied. I climbed to my feet and began to pace back and forth along the side of the pool. I knew Lissa would come out, and I wanted to see her.

  My footsteps echoed in the empty pool building. The only sound. The sudden silence felt strange. I kept my eyes on the locker room door as I walked back and forth along the pool edge.

  “Huh?” I uttered a startled cry when I heard a heavy splash.

  I turned toward the sound — and froze. A dark form rolled through the water, sending up low waves as it moved.

  “Hey!” I shouted.

  I stood at the deep end. The dark blob swam rapidly toward me. Like a seal. Or a walrus.

  And then it raised itself in the water.

  My knees went weak as I stared at the furry, clawed, red-eyed monster in front of me.

  “Nooooo!” A scream escaped my throat.

  I tried to stagger back. But my legs refused to work.

  The creature was surprisingly fast.

  It raised itself high. Leaped up from the water. Wrapped its big, furry arms around my waist. And pulled me into the pool.

  The shock of the cold water made me freeze for a second.

  The monster kept me close to its body and sank below the surface.

  I held my breath as the water rose over my head. My heart pounded so hard, I could feel the blood pulsing in my ears.

  I waited … waited for it to let go of me. But it held me tight, pressing me hard against the thick fur of its chest.

  Did it plan to drown me?

  I began to thrash my arms and legs. I tried to kick it … kick its legs. I squirmed and turned my head. I wanted to butt my head against it. Or bite it.

  Wild colors swirled past me. Was I passing out? I knew I couldn’t hold my breath much longer.

  I raised both fists and pushed against its chest. It held on tight. Bubbles escaped my mouth. My chest felt about to explode.

  Frantic, I raised both hands — and raked my fingernails down the creature’s front.

  I felt it pull back. Its hold on me loosened.

  I scraped my nails down its fur again, trying to dig deep into its flesh.

  And yes. YES!

  Its arms dropped away. It seemed to retreat.

  I didn’t give it a chance to recover. I slid free. Raised my hands and, kicking hard, forced my body to rise to the surface. Gasping, choking, I sucked in breath after breath.

  I could see the inky, dark figure below me at the bottom of the pool. It was real. I wasn’t imagining it.

  I had to get out of there. But it was too fast for me. As I struggled to swim to the side of the pool, it bobbed to the surface. I turned and saw its red-eyed stare.

  Water rolled down my face. I was still panting hard. But I stared back at it. And a hoarse scream burst from my throat.

  “What do you want? Why are you here? Is that you, Monroe? Monroe? What do you want?”

  The monster uttered a deep moan. “Monroe?” it snarled. Its voice was a dry rasp, like it was vomiting the word. “Monroe?”

  “Yes. Are you Monroe?” I cried.

  It stared hard at me. “Maybe …” it growled.

  Then it dove at me. Wrapped its claws around my chest. Slashed through my clothes. Pulled me … pulled me down again.

  It’s going to drown me.

  But no. It heaved me to the surface. I rose up, spluttering and choking.

  I heard footsteps at the far end of the pool.

  The monster heard them, too. It pointed at me and rasped: “You’re next. You’re next!”

  My nightmare come true.

  “You’re NEXT!”

  And then it shot past me, kicking hard, its red eyes still locked on me. It grabbed the side of the pool and hoisted itself up. The big body sent a tidal wave of water over me.

  And when the wave had passed, the monster had vanished. I heard its clomping, heavy footsteps behind the bleachers.

  “Wheeeeew.” I let out a long whoosh of air. I turned toward the footsteps and saw Coach Greene come walking out of the locker room. She stopped when she saw me bobbing in the deep end of the pool.

  “Bean?” Coach Greene shouted. “Bean? Is that you? What on earth! What are you doing in the pool?”

  Think fast, Noah. Think fast.

  “The breast stroke?” I said.

  When I climbed out of the pool, I couldn’t stop shaking. Part of it was the cold. Part of it was my fright at almost being drowned by a hideous monster.

  Coach Greene found a blanket somewhere and wrapped it around me. She made me call home. Dad was there. He said he’d come pick me up in the car.

  Lissa came out of the locker room and waited for my dad with me in front of the school. Coach Greene had told her what happened. Lissa kept her eyes on me, expecting me to explain. But I really didn’t feel like talking.

  “It … it was the monster,” I said finally. “The one from my nightmares. It grabbed me and pulled me into the pool. It held me down. It tried to drown me.”

  “Wow,” she murmured, shaking her head. “Wow. Are you going to tell your parents?”

  “Yes,” I said. I didn’t have to think about it. I mean, this time I nearly drowned. “I have to make them believe me. I need help. I’m not crazy. The monster said I’m next. It really wants to get me.”

  She was silent for a moment. I saw Dad’s blue Ford Focus on the next block. He honked his horn. “Bean, do you still think it’s Monroe?”

  “Yes,” I said. “It has to be Monroe. He left the swim meet early. Right after your race. He didn’t really have a reason. He just disappeared.”

  “But why would Monroe do that? Why would he want to scare you? Why would he try to drown you?”

  “Because he’s a monster? Maybe he can’t control himself. Maybe when the monster brain takes over, he has to kill and destroy. He has to act like a total beast.”

  Lissa bit her bottom lip. “Maybe,” she murmured. “But I still don’t think you have enough proof. I don’t think you can say for sure that it’s Monroe.”

  I couldn’t talk about it any longer. Dad pulled the car to the curb in front of us. He pushed open the front door and s
tared at me with the blanket wrapped around me.

  “Bean, what happened?” he asked.

  “I’ll tell you later,” I said.

  I decided to tell Mom and Dad at dinner.

  I practiced in my room. I planned to keep my voice low and steady. I was going to start at the beginning. Tell them about Monroe running toward the school in sunlight, and how I suddenly saw a monster the size of a gorilla running where Monroe had run.

  Then I’d calmly, quietly tell them about the monster in the hamburger restaurant at the mall. And then the monster eating the gerbils in Dad’s store. I’d explain how that had to be Monroe. It all had to be Monroe.

  This time, I’d make them believe me. This time, I’d convince them to help me.

  “My nightmares are coming true,” I planned to tell them. “There’s a monster after me, and he won’t stop until I’m as dead as that gerbil.”

  I rehearsed in my room, pacing back and forth. I stood at the window and peered down at the street. And planned what I was going to say.

  Finally, Dad called from the kitchen. “Dinner, Bean. Your favorite tonight. Lamb chops.”

  I love lamb chops. I like picking them up in my hand and eating the meat off the bones. But tonight I didn’t feel hungry at all.

  “Mmmm. Smells good,” I said. I took my place at the table.

  Mom forked two lamb chops and a baked potato onto my plate. “So what happened at school this afternoon?” she asked. “Did you fall into the pool?”

  “Tell us what’s up with you,” Dad said.

  “Well …” I took a deep breath. “It’s kind of a long story,” I said.

  “We have time for a long story,” Dad said. He spooned some brussels sprouts onto his plate. “Go ahead.”

  “Well …” My throat suddenly felt dry. “I have to tell you something … about Monroe,” I said.

  “That’s a coincidence,” Mom said. “Because we have something to tell you about Monroe.

  I dropped my fork. “Huh?”

  “Mom has to go to Florida to do some work for NASA,” Dad said. “She and I decided we’d make a vacation of it. We’ll be gone for about a week. And guess what?”

  “What?” I said.