Read Online 46 - How to Kill a Monster by R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead) - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead)
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down my arm.
Then he lowered his enormous teeth—as he prepared to chew off my hand.
30
“Nooooo!” A horrified shriek tore from my throat.
The monster’s jaw swung down. His mouth gaped open. The bugs swarmed over his
yellow teeth. He lowered his mouth to my hand.
Then he stopped.
And let me go.
He backed away, staring at me. Staring at my arm, eyes bulging.
I stared at my arm too. It was covered with disgusting, monster saliva.
The monster raised his hands and clutched at his throat now. Choking. Choking
on something.
He raised his wet eyes to me.
“You—you human?” he choked out.
“He can talk !” Clark gasped.
“You human? You human?” he demanded.
“Y-yes, I’m a human,” I stammered.
The monster threw back his head and groaned. “Oh, no. I’m allergic to
humans.”
His eyes rolled up.
He staggered forward and collapsed against the door to the outside. It
crashed open under his heavy weight. Moonlight streamed in.
He lay there on his stomach. He didn’t move.
I rubbed my wet arm and stared down at the swamp monster.
Was he really dead this time?
31
“Gretchen! Let’s go!” Clark yanked me toward the open door.
We stepped over the monster. I glanced down at the creature one last time.
His eyes were shut. He didn’t breathe. He didn’t move.
“Come on, Gretchen!” Clark pleaded.
Is he really dead? I stared at the swamp monster. I wasn’t totally sure.
But I did know one thing—I wasn’t going to hang around to find out.
Clark and I ran out through the broken door. We found Charley already there,
waiting for us. We bolted down the path—away from the house. Into the swamp.
I was so surprised to find it was dark out. Had we really fought the swamp
monster all day?
A pale moon hung over the cypress trees, casting an eerie glow over them.
The mud rose up over my ankles as we made our way through the marshy ground. Through the tall weeds. Through a blanket
of heavy mist.
My shoes plunged into deep pools of water.
Tripped over upraised roots.
I swiped at the long beards of gray that hung from the trees. Swiped them
from my face as we headed deeper and deeper into the swamp.
When the house was no longer in view, we stopped running. Stopped to catch
our breath.
I listened in the darkness for footsteps.
The swamp monster’s footsteps.
There weren’t any.
“We did it! We killed the monster!” My voice rang out in the night.
“And we escaped!” Clark cheered. “We’re free! We’re okay!”
“Yes!” I shouted. “We really did it!”
Now that we had stopped running for our lives, we stepped through the swamp
carefully. Leaping over the inky puddles and gnarled tree roots.
The night air echoed with strange sounds.
Low gurgling. Scampering footsteps. Piercing cries.
But I didn’t care.
I had already battled my worst nightmare—the swamp monster. Battled him and
won.
“Hey! Clark!” I suddenly remembered the other letter! “We never read Grandma
and Grandpa’s letter. The second letter!”
“So what?” Clark replied. “We don’t have to read it. The monster is dead. We killed it. Just as they told us to do in the
first letter.”
“Where is it? Where’s the letter?” I demanded. “Take it out, Clark.” I
stopped walking. “I want to know what it says.”
Clark pulled the crumpled envelope from his jeans pocket. As he smoothed out
the wrinkles, a fierce animal cry cut through the swamp.
“I—I don’t think we should stop now,” Clark said. “We can read it later.
After we reach town. After we call Mom and Dad.”
“Read it now,” I insisted. “Come on. Don’t you want to know what it says?”
“No,” Clark declared.
“Well, I do,” I told him.
“Okay. Okay.” Clark ripped open the envelope and slipped out the letter.
A light wind began to blow, carrying the sharp animal cries to us.
The dark trees rustled over our heads.
Clark began to read slowly, struggling to see in the dim
Then he lowered his enormous teeth—as he prepared to chew off my hand.
30
“Nooooo!” A horrified shriek tore from my throat.
The monster’s jaw swung down. His mouth gaped open. The bugs swarmed over his
yellow teeth. He lowered his mouth to my hand.
Then he stopped.
And let me go.
He backed away, staring at me. Staring at my arm, eyes bulging.
I stared at my arm too. It was covered with disgusting, monster saliva.
The monster raised his hands and clutched at his throat now. Choking. Choking
on something.
He raised his wet eyes to me.
“You—you human?” he choked out.
“He can talk !” Clark gasped.
“You human? You human?” he demanded.
“Y-yes, I’m a human,” I stammered.
The monster threw back his head and groaned. “Oh, no. I’m allergic to
humans.”
His eyes rolled up.
He staggered forward and collapsed against the door to the outside. It
crashed open under his heavy weight. Moonlight streamed in.
He lay there on his stomach. He didn’t move.
I rubbed my wet arm and stared down at the swamp monster.
Was he really dead this time?
31
“Gretchen! Let’s go!” Clark yanked me toward the open door.
We stepped over the monster. I glanced down at the creature one last time.
His eyes were shut. He didn’t breathe. He didn’t move.
“Come on, Gretchen!” Clark pleaded.
Is he really dead? I stared at the swamp monster. I wasn’t totally sure.
But I did know one thing—I wasn’t going to hang around to find out.
Clark and I ran out through the broken door. We found Charley already there,
waiting for us. We bolted down the path—away from the house. Into the swamp.
I was so surprised to find it was dark out. Had we really fought the swamp
monster all day?
A pale moon hung over the cypress trees, casting an eerie glow over them.
The mud rose up over my ankles as we made our way through the marshy ground. Through the tall weeds. Through a blanket
of heavy mist.
My shoes plunged into deep pools of water.
Tripped over upraised roots.
I swiped at the long beards of gray that hung from the trees. Swiped them
from my face as we headed deeper and deeper into the swamp.
When the house was no longer in view, we stopped running. Stopped to catch
our breath.
I listened in the darkness for footsteps.
The swamp monster’s footsteps.
There weren’t any.
“We did it! We killed the monster!” My voice rang out in the night.
“And we escaped!” Clark cheered. “We’re free! We’re okay!”
“Yes!” I shouted. “We really did it!”
Now that we had stopped running for our lives, we stepped through the swamp
carefully. Leaping over the inky puddles and gnarled tree roots.
The night air echoed with strange sounds.
Low gurgling. Scampering footsteps. Piercing cries.
But I didn’t care.
I had already battled my worst nightmare—the swamp monster. Battled him and
won.
“Hey! Clark!” I suddenly remembered the other letter! “We never read Grandma
and Grandpa’s letter. The second letter!”
“So what?” Clark replied. “We don’t have to read it. The monster is dead. We killed it. Just as they told us to do in the
first letter.”
“Where is it? Where’s the letter?” I demanded. “Take it out, Clark.” I
stopped walking. “I want to know what it says.”
Clark pulled the crumpled envelope from his jeans pocket. As he smoothed out
the wrinkles, a fierce animal cry cut through the swamp.
“I—I don’t think we should stop now,” Clark said. “We can read it later.
After we reach town. After we call Mom and Dad.”
“Read it now,” I insisted. “Come on. Don’t you want to know what it says?”
“No,” Clark declared.
“Well, I do,” I told him.
“Okay. Okay.” Clark ripped open the envelope and slipped out the letter.
A light wind began to blow, carrying the sharp animal cries to us.
The dark trees rustled over our heads.
Clark began to read slowly, struggling to see in the dim
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