Read Online 31 - Night of the Living Dummy II by R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead) - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead)
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to prove that I wasn’t crazy, that Slappy
really was doing these horrible things.
I slammed my history book shut. No way I could read about the firing on Fort
Sumter tonight.
I paced back and forth for a while. Thinking. Thinking hard. But getting
nowhere.
What could I do?
What?
After a while, my head felt about to split open. I reached up both hands and
tugged at my hair.
“Aaaaagh!” I let out a furious cry. Of anger. Of frustration.
Maybe I’ll just get rid of Slappy, I decided.
Maybe I’ll take him outside and toss him in the trash.
And that will end the whole problem.
The idea made me feel a little better.
I turned and took two steps toward the closet.
But I stopped with a gasp when I saw the doorknob slowly turn.
As I stared in shock, the closet door swung open.
Slappy stepped out.
He slumped forward and stopped a few feet in front of me.
His blue eyes glared up at me. His grin grew wider.
“Amy,” he rasped, “it’s time you and I had a little talk.”
19
“Amy, now you are my slave,” Slappy said. His threat came out in a harsh,
cold rasp. The eerie voice made me shiver.
I stared back at him. I couldn’t reply.
I gaped into those glassy blue eyes, that red-lipped smirk.
“You read the ancient words that bring me to life,” the dummy whispered. “And
now you will serve me. You will do everything I ask.”
“No!” I finally managed to choke out. “No! Please—!”
“Yes!” he cried. The grinning wooden head bobbed up and down, nodding. “Yes,
Amy! You are my slave now! My slave forever!”
“I w-won’t!” I stammered. “You can’t make me—” My voice caught in my
throat. My legs wobbled like rubber. My knees buckled, and I nearly fell.
Slappy raised one hand and grabbed my wrist. I felt the cold, wooden fingers
tighten around me.
“You will do as I tell you—from now on,” the dummy whispered. “Or else…”
“Let go of me!” I cried. I struggled to tug my arm free. But his grasp was
too tight. “Or else what?” I cried.
“Or else I will destroy your sister’s mural,” Slappy replied. His painted
grin grew wider. The cold eyes glared into mine.
“Big deal,” I muttered. “Do you really think I’ll be your slave because you
wreck her painting? You’ve already wrecked Sara’s room—haven’t you? That
doesn’t mean I’ll be your slave!”
“I’ll keep on destroying things,” Slappy replied, tightening his grip on my
wrist, tugging me down toward him. “Maybe I’ll start wrecking your brother’s
things, too. And you will be blamed, Amy. You will be blamed for it all.”
“Stop—” I cried, trying to twist free.
“Your parents are already worried about you—aren’t they, Amy?” the dummy
rasped in that harsh, cold whispery voice. “Your parents already think you’re
crazy!”
“Stop! Please—!” I pleaded.
“What do you think they’ll do when you start wrecking everything in the
house?” Slappy demanded. “What do you think they’ll do to you, Amy?”
“Listen to me!” I shrieked. “You can’t—”
He jerked my arm hard. “They’ll send you away!” he rasped, his eyes flashing
wildly. “That’s what your parents will do. They’ll send you away. And you’ll never see them
again—except on visiting days!”
He tilted back his wooden head and uttered a shrill laugh.
A low moan escaped my throat. My entire body shuddered with terror.
Slappy tugged me closer. “You will be an excellent slave,” he whispered in my
ear. “You and I will have many good years together. You will devote your life to
me.”
“No!” I cried. “No, I won’t!”
I sucked in a deep breath. Then I swung my arm hard, as hard as I could.
I caught the dummy by surprise.
Before he could let go of my wrist, I pulled him off balance.
He let out a startled grunt as I lifted him off the floor.
He’s just a dummy, I told myself. Just a dummy. I can handle him. I
can beat him.
His hand fell off my wrist.
I
really was doing these horrible things.
I slammed my history book shut. No way I could read about the firing on Fort
Sumter tonight.
I paced back and forth for a while. Thinking. Thinking hard. But getting
nowhere.
What could I do?
What?
After a while, my head felt about to split open. I reached up both hands and
tugged at my hair.
“Aaaaagh!” I let out a furious cry. Of anger. Of frustration.
Maybe I’ll just get rid of Slappy, I decided.
Maybe I’ll take him outside and toss him in the trash.
And that will end the whole problem.
The idea made me feel a little better.
I turned and took two steps toward the closet.
But I stopped with a gasp when I saw the doorknob slowly turn.
As I stared in shock, the closet door swung open.
Slappy stepped out.
He slumped forward and stopped a few feet in front of me.
His blue eyes glared up at me. His grin grew wider.
“Amy,” he rasped, “it’s time you and I had a little talk.”
19
“Amy, now you are my slave,” Slappy said. His threat came out in a harsh,
cold rasp. The eerie voice made me shiver.
I stared back at him. I couldn’t reply.
I gaped into those glassy blue eyes, that red-lipped smirk.
“You read the ancient words that bring me to life,” the dummy whispered. “And
now you will serve me. You will do everything I ask.”
“No!” I finally managed to choke out. “No! Please—!”
“Yes!” he cried. The grinning wooden head bobbed up and down, nodding. “Yes,
Amy! You are my slave now! My slave forever!”
“I w-won’t!” I stammered. “You can’t make me—” My voice caught in my
throat. My legs wobbled like rubber. My knees buckled, and I nearly fell.
Slappy raised one hand and grabbed my wrist. I felt the cold, wooden fingers
tighten around me.
“You will do as I tell you—from now on,” the dummy whispered. “Or else…”
“Let go of me!” I cried. I struggled to tug my arm free. But his grasp was
too tight. “Or else what?” I cried.
“Or else I will destroy your sister’s mural,” Slappy replied. His painted
grin grew wider. The cold eyes glared into mine.
“Big deal,” I muttered. “Do you really think I’ll be your slave because you
wreck her painting? You’ve already wrecked Sara’s room—haven’t you? That
doesn’t mean I’ll be your slave!”
“I’ll keep on destroying things,” Slappy replied, tightening his grip on my
wrist, tugging me down toward him. “Maybe I’ll start wrecking your brother’s
things, too. And you will be blamed, Amy. You will be blamed for it all.”
“Stop—” I cried, trying to twist free.
“Your parents are already worried about you—aren’t they, Amy?” the dummy
rasped in that harsh, cold whispery voice. “Your parents already think you’re
crazy!”
“Stop! Please—!” I pleaded.
“What do you think they’ll do when you start wrecking everything in the
house?” Slappy demanded. “What do you think they’ll do to you, Amy?”
“Listen to me!” I shrieked. “You can’t—”
He jerked my arm hard. “They’ll send you away!” he rasped, his eyes flashing
wildly. “That’s what your parents will do. They’ll send you away. And you’ll never see them
again—except on visiting days!”
He tilted back his wooden head and uttered a shrill laugh.
A low moan escaped my throat. My entire body shuddered with terror.
Slappy tugged me closer. “You will be an excellent slave,” he whispered in my
ear. “You and I will have many good years together. You will devote your life to
me.”
“No!” I cried. “No, I won’t!”
I sucked in a deep breath. Then I swung my arm hard, as hard as I could.
I caught the dummy by surprise.
Before he could let go of my wrist, I pulled him off balance.
He let out a startled grunt as I lifted him off the floor.
He’s just a dummy, I told myself. Just a dummy. I can handle him. I
can beat him.
His hand fell off my wrist.
I
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