R. Stine - Werewolf Skin

So I smiled and quietly told them, “Maybe I’ll be a pirate too.”

I spooned up the last of my soup.

I had no way of knowing that in a few hours, when the moon rose to its peak in the sky, I’d be nearly face-to-face with a real werewolf.

After Hannah went home, I made my way to my little bedroom. I straightened up a bit, shoving clothes into the dresser drawers.

I’m not the neatest person in the world. Let’s face it-I’m a total slob. But I knew if I let the clutter pile up in this tiny room, I’d never find anything.

I sat down at the desk and wrote a short letter to Mom and Dad. I told them everything was fine. I wrote that I’d have at least a thousand great photographs to show them when they came home from France.

When I finished addressing the letter, I wasn’t feeling sleepy. But I decided I should probably go to bed, anyway.

I started to the closet to find my pajamas. But I stopped at the window.

And stared out at a pale orange light.

A light in a side window of the Marlings’ house!

The light shimmered between two tilting trees, their leaves vibrating in the wind. A pale orange rectangle of light on the bottom floor of the house, near the back.

A bedroom window?

I pressed closer to the glass and squinted hard into the darkness. Squinted into the dim rectangle of orange.

Was I about to see one of the Marlings? I held my breath and waited.

I didn’t have to wait long.

I let out a gasp as a silhouette crossed the window next door. A gray figure caught in the rectangle of orange.

Was it a man?

I couldn’t tell.

The silhouette moved. It’s an animal, I realized.

No. A man.

Mr. Marling?

I pressed against the glass, squinting hard. Was it a large dog? A man? I couldn’t see clearly.

The silhouette moved away from the window.

And then I heard a long, high animal wail.

The sound floated out through the window next door. Floated across the narrow space between our houses.

The high, animal howl swept into my room. Swirled around me.

Such an ugly, frightening sound. Half-human, half-animal. A cry I had never heard before.

A chill rolled down my back. And then another.

Another howl made me gasp.

I stared out as the silhouette returned to the window. A creature with its head tilted back. Its jaws open, uttering such frightening animal cries.

I’ve got to take a picture, I told myself. I’ve got to photograph the howling silhouette.

I spun away from the window. Dove across the tiny room to the dresser.

Reached for my camera.

My camera?

It was gone.

“No-!” I uttered a shocked cry.

My hands fumbled frantically over the desktop.

I left the camera there. I knew I had.

But no. No camera.

My eyes swept around the room. I had just straightened up. Everything was in place. The desktop. The dresser.

No camera. No camera.

I dropped to my knees and searched under the bed.

No camera.

I crawled over to the closet. Pulled open the door. And searched the closet floor.

As I searched, another wolf howl burst into my room. Higher. Shriller.

And then I heard two howls together. The sirenlike wails blending in a strange, sour harmony.

Was it Mr. and Mrs. Marling?

As I climbed to my feet, I heard a scraping sound. Wood against wood.

The sound of a window opening.

I heard a heavy THUD.

Feet landing hard on the ground.

And then I heard low grunts. Heavy, thudding footsteps.

Footsteps right outside my room!

I dove back to the window. Breathlessly, my heart pounding, I stared out.

Too late.

No one out there now.

All dark. The orange light gone from the Marlings’ window. The house completely covered in black again.

The trees shaking, black against the blue-black sky. The leaves silvery, shimmering under the bright light of the moon.

I stared out there for a long moment, waiting for my heart to stop racing. Listening for the high howls, the heavy, thudding footsteps.

Silence now.

My camera…

I forced myself to turn away from the window. I hurried out of the room and down the short hall to the living room. Did I leave the camera case here when Hannah and I returned from the woods?

No. No sign of it.

I checked the kitchen. Not there, either.

“Aunt Marta! Uncle Colin!” I called them. My voice came out tinier than I’d planned.

I ran back down the hall. Past my room. Past the bathroom and the linen closet. Their room stood at the end. “Have you seen my camera anywhere?” I cried.

I shoved open the door to their bedroom.

Dark in there. Dark and empty.

I could smell Aunt Marta’s flowery perfume. And the sharp odor of photo-developing fluid.

They’ve gone out to the woods to photograph animals, I realized.

I’m all alone here.

I took a deep breath and held it. Calm down, Alex, I instructed myself. You’re perfectly okay. You’re perfectly safe.

You will find your camera as soon as you get calm. It’s probably right out in plain sight. But you’re so crazy and pumped up, you can’t see it. Just calm down!

I took another long, deep breath. I was starting to feel calmer.

I closed my aunt and uncle’s bedroom door and started back down the hall.

I was halfway to my room when I heard the soft, scraping sound.

And then the thud of footsteps.

I froze. And listened.

More footsteps. Heavy thuds.

Where were they coming from?

Overhead?

Yes.

I peered up at the low ceiling.

Another scraping sound. More thudding footsteps. They’re in the attic! I realized. Whatever those howling creatures are-they’re in the house!

I dropped back against the wall. My whole body shook.

I swallowed hard. And listened to the heavy footsteps above my head.

I’ve got to get out of here! I told myself. I’ve got to get out of this house!

I’ve got to tell Uncle Colin and Aunt Marta!

But my legs felt like Jell-O. I didn’t know if I could walk.

I took a shaky step. Then another.

And then I heard a new sound from upstairs.

I stopped and listened.

Humming? Was someone humming?

With a burst of energy, I grabbed the door to the attic. I pulled it open and shouted up the stairs, “Who’s up there? Who is it?”

“It’s me, Alex!” a familiar voice called down.

“Hannah-?” I choked out. I stared up to the attic. “Wh-what are you doing up there?”

“Didn’t your aunt tell you I came back?” Hannah called.

“No, she didn’t,” I replied.

“She said she had some old clothes up here that might make a good costume. So I came back to check it out.”

Her head appeared at the top of the stairs. “Why do you sound so weird?”

“I–I thought-” I began. But the words caught in my throat.

I started up the stairs.

“No-!” Hannah cried. “Don’t come up!”

I stopped on the third step. “How come?” I called.

“I’m not dressed. I’m trying on stuff,” she explained. She smiled down at me. “Besides, I want to surprise you. There’s some awesome old stuff up here. Your aunt and uncle must have looked really weird when they were young.”

Her head disappeared from view. I could hear the rustle of clothes up there.

I backed down the stairs. “Hey-do you know where my camera is?” I asked. “I’ve looked all over the house, and-”

“Oh, no!” Hannah groaned. Her head appeared again. This time she wasn’t smiling.

“What?” I called up to her.

“Your camera, Alex. Do you think maybe you left it in the woods?”