Zits from Python Pit #6 (9 page)

We quickly made our way down from the tower, led by François.

“Well, I for one am glad that's over,” said François. He chuckled nervously and continued, “Yes, Tikoloshe is a stickler for ritual.”

We passed by the smashed wall that opened into the jungle. The sun had set while we were in the tower, and now it was fully dark. The jungle was alive with the sounds of creatures of the night.

I looked over at Shane. One nostril of his nose was completely sealed shut with zits.

“Are you okay?” I asked him.

“My nose is so numb I can barely feel it now,” said Shane. “But I'll be glad to finally sleep in a real bed tonight.”

“What makes you think it's going to be a real bed?” asked Gordon. “I think François said something about a tarantula mattress.”

“Highly recommended,” François said. “It will really help with your posture. It's almost as good as hanging upside down.”

We all walked up to a huge iron door I hadn't seen before.

François opened it and peeked down a set of massive stone stairs.

“Let me just prepare everyone for our new residents,” said François. “I'd hate for someone to be mistaken for a snack.”

As soon as François had disappeared into the darkness, I turned to Director Z.

“What did we just get ourselves into?” I asked him. “Did we really just pledge our afterlife?”

“What does that mean, anyway?” said Gordon. “Are our souls in trouble?”

“Or our complexions?” Ben asked.

“I'm not sure,” Director Z responded. “But taking part in that ritual may have been worthwhile.”

“How was it worth our afterlife?” Ben squeaked.

“We learned something,” said Director Z. “Didn't we, Chris?” He looked at me, waiting for me to say something.

“Uh . . . ,” I stumbled.

“Think, Chris!” said Director Z. “The pendant might give you power, but your intelligence comes from within. What did we see out of the ordinary?”

“You mean, aside from the oh-so-ordinary ritual of giving our soul to a troll?” asked Gordon.

“Soul Troll,” snickered Clive. “Yo. I've heard of that band.”

“François freaked out when the statue hit the candle,” I said.

“Yes?” asked Director Z, digging deeper. “And? What does that tell us?”

“That François is really concerned about keeping the statue safe?” I asked.

We could hear paw-steps coming up the stairs.

“Exactly,” whispered Director Z. “Now think about what that means. That's what I'll be doing.”

“Come on then,” said François. “Everyone is excited to meet you.”

We wound our way down the huge, dark spiraling staircase into the cold, deep dungeon of the ruins.

The dungeon buzzed with excitement.

“Because of all the light that filters into the top of the ruin, most of the residents start their evenings here,” said François.

“I feel like we're in a pit,” said Gordon.

“I love it!” said Grigore. “So homey!”

Low moans and groans floated up the stairs from below. We came down the final steps and found ourselves in a sea of old zombies, vampires, and other horrific creatures from all over the world.

“There are a lot of monsters here,” I whispered. “I can't even count them all.”

“Almost too many,” Director Z whispered back. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Like François said, they're coming from all over . . . but why?”

“But, Boss,” said Grigore, “they seem so happy.”

An old zombie turned to us and smiled. His jaw quickly popped off.

François bent over to pick it up. “Now,” he said, “it would be best if the children slept down here at night while the residents wreaked havoc on Yangambi.” He shoved the zombie's jaw back in place, and it smiled at us again.

“That's one crooked grin,” said Shane.

“What's Yangambi?” I asked François.

“That's the nearby town,” he responded.

“This Tikoloshe,” said Director Z. “He lets you roam free in the town?”

“Like I said,” said François, “Tikoloshe has given us freedom that we could only imagine before. But the residents aren't strong. They can't do too much damage. Though I hope the chickens are restocked tonight.”

“But you said that Tikoloshe was going to make you all strong,” I said. “What then?”

“Well, then we'll have even more fun,” said François. “The best is yet to come.”

“So you'll destroy the town and kill the residents?” asked Nabila. “What about the monster code?”

François blinked at her, stared into space strangely for a moment, and then growled, “What do you know about the monster code?” He flung his wings wide open and lunged at her.

Nabila fell to the ground and covered her face. François loomed over her.

“Back off, fur ball,” yelled Gordon, and he pushed François back.

“Ow,” shouted François, and he fell onto the cold dungeon floor.

Gordon gave me a puzzled look. “I didn't even push him that hard.”

I looked down at François, and for a moment his fur changed color from brown to gray.

“Hey, his fur is—” I started to say, but before I could finish, it had turned back to brown.

He moaned on the floor.

The other monsters began to crowd around us. They fidgeted and growled.

“Can I help you up, old man?” asked Director Z. He reached down to help François.

“Don't touch me!” yelled François. “And I'm not old.”

“No, you don't
look
old,” said Director Z pointedly. “I can agree with that.”

“Now, everyone, back off,” said François. “I'm sorry . . . I don't know what came over me.”

The monsters all growled and swayed, their old bodies forming a tight circle around us.

I helped Nabila up. Her face was covered in dozens of zits.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I think so,” she replied. “My face feels like it's crawling with zits.”

“That's because it is,” I said. “Now I'm the only one who doesn't have them.”

“This has got to stop,” said Gordon. “All these zits are giving me more zits.”

“How are you doing, Shane?” I asked. I looked over to Shane and saw the largest green booger I had ever witnessed in my life hanging from his nose. It was so big it looked like it was moving and it had eyes. I squinted to get a better look, but I couldn't tell if I was making up the eyes. It was covered in a thin layer of pus.

SNNNNNNNARF!

Shane snorted the super-pus booger back into his nose. “I'm just feeling a little congested now.”

“Congested with what?” I asked. Did anyone else just see what was hanging out of Shane's nose?

Before anyone could answer, a banshee stepped forward and locked eyes with Clarice.

“Betty?” asked Clarice. “Poor old Betty, is it really you?”

Betty's eyes burned red, and she opened her mouth.

She had the sharpest teeth I had ever seen on a banshee, and started screaming as she jumped at Clarice.

Clarice screamed. The monkey screeched.

I thought my ears were going to bleed as the two banshees wrestled each other down to the floor.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

“Clarice!!!” I yelled.

“Get off of me, you old bird!” yelled Clarice.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

“Betty's screaming is making the other monsters crazy!” Ben yelled, pointing at the crowd of monsters that closed in around us. Fangs flashed. Arms reached out.

Some headed to Betty to help. Others, wide-eyed and drooling, headed for us, licking their lips.

“Snackie!” yelled a massive, hairy, tusked monster on two legs with bug eyes. “Oh, snackieeeee!!!”

“I'm sick of everyone thinking we're snack food,” said Gordon. A zombie pounced on him, and he pushed him back. Gordon turned to Clive and said, “Tell your friend to chill!”

“Sorry, dude,” said Clive. “I don't speak Brazilian.”

Betty and Clarice rolled around on the floor, knocking over Ben and Nabila.

“Watch out!” Nabila yelled. “Those teeth are like razors.”

“Stop being such a ninny,” Clarice yelled at Betty. “Get control of yourself.” Clarice pulled Betty's hair, and Betty SCREEEEEEEECHed again.

The monkey screeched and pointed ahead. The tusked monster was headed right for me.

I held up my pendant and yelled, “I am your Director and I demand that you stop this instant!”

ROOOOOOOOOOOAR!

The tusked monster didn't care that I was a Director. I tried to back up, but the battling banshees were in the way.

Betty just wouldn't leave Clarice alone. Betty lifted her head, opened her toothy mouth wide, and came down on Clarice's neck.

Shane roundhouse kicked Betty in the face. She rolled off of Clarice and knocked over the tusked monster before it could sink its claws into me. I jumped to the right as Betty got up, pushed Shane to the floor, and jumped on Clarice again.

“It's all right!” screeched Clarice. “I've got this. Watch the other ones, though. I don't trust their shifty eyes.”

The younger, stronger monsters of Gallow Manor bared their fangs, bugged their eyes, and pushed back the older monsters of The House of Eternal Rest.

“I'm so confused,” said Twenty-Three. “I knew Earth wasn't the most peaceful place, but I always thought monsters were supposed to help other monsters!”

“François!” I yelled. “Get up and do something before someone gets hurt!”

“I told you,” said François from the safety of the floor, “you're not giving any orders around here.” He wrapped his wings around his head. “I can't deal with this anymore.”

“You don't want Tikoloshe to be mad at you, do you?” I asked François. “What if you hurt one of his residents?”

François stared at the battle for a second and then said, “Fine. Help me up.”

Gordon and I helped François up.

He raised his wings and yelled, “Enough, everyone. It's time to head out, anyway—let's begin our night!”

But nobody listened.

“Better try harder than that, bat man,” said Pietro. “These guys are getting stronger by the second.”

“I . . . I . . . ,” stammered François, “can't control them anymore!”

EEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

I had almost forgotten about Clarice.

She screeched the loudest she had screeched yet and lifted her hand high in the air. She made a claw and stared Betty directly in the eyes. “Enough,” Clarice hissed. Her nails shone in the darkness.

EEEEEEEE-SWIPE!

“Whoa!” said Shane.

Clarice scratched Betty's face before Betty could attack with her razor-sharp teeth. Betty dropped to the floor . . .

. . . and the dungeon went deathly silent.

All of the old monsters who were struggling with my friends stopped and shuffled around aimlessly as if nothing had happened.

“That's all you got?” Gil asked the adze he had been fighting. The adze ignored him and headed up the stairs to start his night in Yangambi.

“Clarice!” yelled Betty, clutching her bloody, wrinkled face. “What did you do to me? And why are you here?”

“What am I doing?” asked Clarice, plucking the skin from under her fingernails. “What were
you
doing? It's like you were possessed.”

“Well, I guess you broke the spell!” said Betty. “Come here and give an old girl a hug!”

The two banshees hugged. The rest of the monsters shrugged and headed for the stairs.

François walked up with them. He turned at the first stair. “Well, we'll be out for the night,” he said. “For your safety, I'll lock the door at the top from the outside.”

“Wait, WHAT?!” Gordon screeched. “You can't do that!”

Gordon rushed at François again. This time I held him back. “What does it matter?” I said. “We know they're coming back.”

I watched François carefully as he headed up the stairs.

“He looks defeated,” said Nabila, walking over to me. “His wings are hanging down low. He seems tired.”

“His act is wearing thin,” said Director Z. “Whatever it is he's hiding, I think he's going to reveal it soon.”

“We should track him,” said Ben. “Keep an eye on him. Keep an eye on all of them.”

Director Z motioned to Pietro.

“I'm on it,” said Pietro. He jumped up the stairs and had turned into a werewolf by the time his paws hit the third stair.

“Thanks, Pietro!” I said.

“Do you think François will let Pietro join?” asked Nabila.

“François looks like he won't even notice him slink up the stairs,” I said. “He probably wouldn't even notice us.”

“So let's go,” said Gordon. “This place is giving me the supercreeps.”

“I thought you were the one who couldn't handle much more jungle,” said Nabila. “And we can't leave Chris alone. Remember, he can't leave.”

“Yes, stay with me,” I said. “We have the secret lair of these monsters all to ourselves. Let's look for clues about this Tikoloshe. And what happened to their Director.”

I turned back to the two banshees. Clarice now had a lace handkerchief in her hand and was dabbing Betty's face with it.

“Well, the good news is, it gets better from here,” said Clarice. “I'm sorry that I nearly scratched your face off, but I hope it made you realize how much you need to moisturize.”

“Oh, that's not going to do me any good, darling,” said Betty. “Not for someone my age.”

“I would have lost my mind if I didn't hold on to some piece of my youth when I was alone and sapped of all my energies,” Clarice said. “I kept myself looking good and ended up kissing quite the interesting gentleman just a little while back.”

“Who?” asked Betty.

Clarice simply pointed up the stairs.

“The werewolf?” gasped Betty. “My, my! I always knew you liked the hairy ones, but still . . .”

“Cut the kissy stuff,” said Gordon.

“Oh, he's right, we're just gossiping,” said Clarice. “Is there somewhere more private we could speak?”

“Yes, yes, what am I thinking?” Betty chuckled. “Come to my room, and I'll boil frog water for some tea.”

The two ladies giggled and screeched as they made their way down the hallway.

“C'mon,” I said. “Let's follow them into the hall. We can search the monsters' rooms for clues while they're all out on the town.”