Read 31 - Night of the Living Dummy II Online

Authors: R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead)

31 - Night of the Living Dummy II (9 page)

BOOK: 31 - Night of the Living Dummy II
6.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

 

 
22

 

 

“Grab him!” I cried to my sister.

I reached out both arms and made a frantic dive for the dummy. But he
scampered to the side and slipped away from my tackle.

His blue eyes flashed excitedly. His red lips twisted in an ugly grin.

“Give up, slaves!” he rasped. “You cannot win!”

Sara held back, hands against the door frame. I could see the fear in her
eyes.

I made another grab for Slappy. Missed again.

“Sara—help me!” I pleaded.

Sara took a step into the room.

I leaped at Slappy, grabbed one boneless ankle.

With a grunt, he pulled out of my grasp. He darted toward the door—and ran
right into Sara.

The collision stunned them both.

Sara staggered back.

Slappy teetered off balance.

I threw myself at him, caught his arms, and pulled them behind his back.

He squirmed and twisted. He kicked out furiously.

But Sara grabbed both of his big leather shoes. “Tie him in a knot!” she
cried breathlessly.

He kicked and thrashed.

But we held tight.

I twisted his arms behind him. Twisted them around each other. Twisted.
Twisted. Then tied them in as tight a knot as I could.

Slappy squirmed and bucked, grunting loudly, his wooden jaws clicking.

When I glanced up from my work on the arms, I saw that Sara had wrapped his
legs in a knot, too.

Slappy tilted back his head and uttered a roar of rage. His eyes slid up into
his head so that only the whites showed.
“Put me down, slaves! Put me down at
once!”

With one hand, I grabbed a wad of tissues from my bed table and jammed it
into Slappy’s mouth.

He uttered a grunt of protest, then went silent.

“Now what?” Sara cried breathlessly. “Where should we put him?”

My eyes shot around the room. No, I decided. I don’t want him in my room. I
don’t want him in the house.

“Outside,” I instructed my sister, holding on to the knotted arms with both
of my hands. “Let’s get him outside.”

Struggling to hold on to the bucking legs, Sara glanced at the clock. “It’s
after eleven. What if Mom and Dad hear us?”

“I don’t care!” I cried. “Hurry! I want him out of here! I never want to see
him again!”

We dragged Slappy out into the hall. Mom and Dad’s door remained closed.

Good, I thought. They hadn’t heard our struggle.

Sara carried him by the knotted legs. I held on to the arms.

Slappy had stopped struggling and squirming. I think he was waiting to see
what we were going to do with him. The wad of tissues had silenced his cries.

I didn’t know where to take him. I only knew I wanted him out of the house.

We carried him through the darkened living room and out the front door. We
stepped into a hot, sticky night, more like summer than spring. A pale sliver of
a moon hovered low in a blue-black sky.

There was no breeze. No sounds of any kind. Nothing moved.

Sara and I carried the dummy to the driveway. “Should we take him somewhere
on our bikes?” she suggested.

“How will we balance him?” I asked. “Besides, it’s too dark. Too dangerous.
Let’s just carry him a few blocks and dump him somewhere.”

“You mean in a trash can or something?” Sara asked.

I nodded. “That’s where he belongs. In the trash.”

Luckily, the dummy didn’t weigh much at all. We made our way to the sidewalk,
then carried him to the end of the block.

Slappy remained limp, his eyes rolled up in his head.

At the corner, I spotted two circles of white light approaching. Car
headlights. “Quick—!” I whispered to Sara.

We slipped behind a hedge just in time. The car rolled by without slowing.

We waited for the glow of red taillights to disappear in the darkness. Then
we continued down the next block, carrying the dummy between us.

“Hey—how about those?” Sara asked, pointing with her free hand.

I squinted to see what she had spotted. A row of metal trash cans lined up at
the curb in front of a dark house across the street.

“Looks good,” I said. “Let’s shove him in and clamp down the lid. Maybe the
trash guys will haul him away tomorrow.”

I led the way across the street—and then stopped. “Sara—wait,” I
whispered. “I have a better idea.”

I dragged the dummy toward the corner. I motioned to the metal drain down at
the curb.

“The sewer?” Sara whispered.

I nodded. “It’s perfect.” Through the narrow opening at the curb, I could
hear running water far down below. “Come on. Shove him in.”

Slappy still didn’t move or protest in any way.

I lowered his head to the drain opening. Then Sara and I pushed him in
headfirst.

I heard a
splash
and a hard
thud
as he hit the sewer floor.

We both listened. Silence. Then the soft trickle of water.

Sara and I grinned at each other.

We hurried home. I was so happy, I skipped most of the way.

 

The next morning, Sara and I came to the kitchen for breakfast together. Mom
turned from the counter, where she was pouring herself a cup of coffee.

Jed was already at the table, eating his Frosted Flakes. “What’s
he
doing down here?” Jed asked.

He pointed across the table.

At Slappy. Sitting in the chair.

 

 
23

 

 

Sara and I both gasped.

“Yes. Why is that dummy down here?” Mom asked me. “I found him sitting there
when I came in this morning. And why is he so dirty? Where has he been, Amy?”

I could barely choke out a word. “I… uh… I guess he fell or
something,” I finally mumbled.

“Well, take him back upstairs,” Mom ordered. “He’s supposed to be kept in the
closet—remember?”

“Uh… yeah. I remember,” I said, sighing.

“You’ll have to clean him up later,” Mom said, stirring her coffee. “He looks
as if he’s been wallowing in the mud.”

“Okay,” I replied weakly.

I hoisted Slappy up and slung him over my shoulder. Then I started to my
room.

“I—I’ll come with you,” Sara stammered.

“What for?” Mom demanded. “Sit down, Sara, and eat your breakfast. You’re both going to be late.”

Sara obediently sat down across from Jed. I made my way down the hall.

I was halfway to my room when Slappy raised his head and whispered in my ear,
“Good morning, slave. Did you sleep well?”

I tossed him into the closet and locked the door. I could hear him laughing
inside the closet. The evil laugh made me shake all over.

What am I going to do now?
I asked myself.
What can I do to get rid of
this creature?

 

The day dragged by. I don’t think I heard a word my teacher said.

I couldn’t get Slappy’s evil, grinning face out of my mind. His raspy voice
rattled in my ears.

I won’t be your slave!
I silently vowed.
I’ll get you out of my house—out of my life—if it’s the last thing I do!

 

That night, I lay wide awake in my bed. How could I sleep, knowing that evil
dummy sat in the closet a few feet away?

The night was hot and steamy. I had pushed the window open all the way, but
there was no breeze. A fly buzzed by my head, the first fly of spring.

Staring up at the twisting shadows on the ceiling, I brushed the fly away with one hand. As soon as the buzzing vanished,
another sound took its place.

A click. A low squeak.

The sound of the closet door opening.

I raised myself up off the pillow. Squinting into the darkness, I saw Slappy
creep out of the closet.

He took a few shuffling steps, his big shoes sliding silently over my carpet.
He turned.

Was he coming toward my bed?

No.

His head and shoulders bobbed as he pulled himself to the door. Then out into
the hall.

He’s going to Sara’s room, I knew.

But what was he going to do there? Did he plan to pay us back for what we did
to him last night?

What new horror was he going to create?

I lowered my feet to the floor, climbed out of bed, and followed him out into
the hall.

 

 
24

 

 

My eyes adjusted quickly to the dim yellow light from the night-light at the
other end of the hall. I watched Slappy slither toward my sister’s room. He
moved as silently as a shadow.

I held my breath and kept my back against the wall as I followed behind him.
When he turned into Sara’s room, I stepped away from the wall and started to
run.

I reached the bedroom doorway in time to see Slappy pick up a wide paintbrush
from Sara’s supply table. He took a step toward the mural on the wall.

One step.

And then another small figure leaped out of the darkness.

The lights flashed on.

“Dennis!” I cried.

“Stand back!”
Dennis ordered in a high, shrill voice. He lowered his
wooden head and charged at Slappy.

Sara sat up in her bed and uttered a frightened cry.

I could see the stunned expression on Slappy’s face.

Dennis flew at Slappy. He slammed his head into Slappy’s middle.

Slappy let out a loud
“Oooof!”
He staggered back. Fell.

A loud
thud
rang through the room as the back of Slappy’s head hit
Sara’s iron bedpost.

I raised both hands to my cheeks and gasped as Slappy’s head cracked open.

The wooden head split down the middle.

I watched the evil face crack apart. The wide, shocked eyes slid in different
directions. The red lips cracked and fell away.

The head dropped to the floor in two pieces. And then the body collapsed in a
heap beside them.

My hands still pressed against my face, my heart pounding, I took a few steps
into the room.

Dennis ran past me, out to the hall.

But my eyes were locked on the two pieces of Slappy’s head. I stared in
horror as an enormous white worm crawled out of one of the pieces. The fat worm
slithered and curled to the wall—and vanished into a crack in the molding.

Sara climbed out of bed, breathing hard, her face bright red from the
excitement.

The closet door swung open. Mom and Dad came bursting out.

“Girls—are you okay?” Dad cried.

We nodded.

“We saw the whole thing!” Mom exclaimed. She threw her arms around me. “Amy,
I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. We should have believed you. I’m so sorry we didn’t
believe you.”

“We believe you now!” Dad declared, staring down at Slappy’s broken head, his
crumpled body. “We saw everything!”

It was all planned. Sara and I had worked it out before dinner.

Sara convinced Mom and Dad to hide in the closet. Mom and Dad were really
creeped out by the way I was acting. They were willing to do anything.

So Sara pretended to go to sleep. Mom and Dad hid in the closet.

I left the closet door unlocked to make it easier for Slappy to get out.

I knew Slappy would creep into Sara’s room. I knew Mom and Dad would finally
see that I’m not crazy.

And then Jed burst out dressed as Dennis, with Dennis’ head propped up on
top of his turtleneck sweater.

We knew that would shock Slappy. We knew it would give us a chance to grab
him.

We didn’t know what a great job Jed would do. We didn’t know that Jed would
actually destroy the evil dummy. We didn’t know that Slappy’s head would crack
apart. That was just good luck.

“Hey—where
is
Jed?” I asked, my eyes searching the room.

“Jed? Jed?” Mom called. “Where are you? You did a great job!”

No reply.

No sign of my brother.

“Weird,” Sara muttered, shaking her head.

We all trooped down the hall into Jed’s room.

We found him in bed, sound asleep. He groggily raised his head from the
pillow and squinted at us. “What time is it?” he asked sleepily.

“It’s nearly eleven,” Dad replied.

“Oh, no!” Jed cried, sitting up. “I’m sorry! I forgot to wake up! I forgot I
was supposed to dress up like Dennis!”

I felt a shiver run down my back. I turned to my parents. “Then who fought
Slappy?” I asked. “Who fought Slappy?”

 

 

Scanning, formatting and
proofing by Undead.

BOOK: 31 - Night of the Living Dummy II
6.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Skin Walkers - King by Susan Bliler
Madness Rules - 04 by Arthur Bradley
Havana Jazz Club by Mariné, Lola
EMS Heat 06 - Red Lights and Silver Bells by Red Lights, Silver Bells
The Poison Oracle by Peter Dickinson
CnC 4 A Harvest of Bones by Yasmine Galenorn
Gator's Challenge by Eve Langlais
A Clockwork Fairytale by Helen Scott Taylor
Wanting by Richard Flanagan