Read Online April Fools by Richie Tankersley Cusick - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Richie Tankersley Cusick
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Social Issues, Horror & Ghost Stories, Friendship, Mysteries & Detective Stories, Adolescence, Horror Fiction, Traffic accidents
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hand.
There were wet globs of red on her fingers . . .
and the smell made her gag and step back off the curb.
Belinda stared at the mailbox in horror.
It's Frank playing a joke again . . . it has to be Frank . . . some sick^ stupid joke and damn you, Frank, for what you got us into --
She couldn't put her hand back in there. Yet -- whatever it was -- she couldn't leave it inside.
Carefully she listened, but nothing moved. The thing in the mailbox was dead -- it had to be dead -- and by the smell of it, had been dead a long time.
Slowly she eased her fingers inside . . . groping . . . groping . . . she felt something soft beneath the slime.
Holding her breath, she cupped her palm around it and lifted it out.
The scream she'd been holding back rose into her throat and stuck there, the awful, hideous thing in her hand looking back at her beneath a smeared coating of mashed entrails.
It was a head.
Once it had been part of a doll.
Once it had probably been beautiful.
Only now its face had been slashed repeatedly and someone had stitched it sloppily back together with thick, black thread.
It was grinning at her.
And where its eyes should have been, there were only deep, black holes.
Chapter 8
"Okay, Hildy, start talking."
Belinda's voice was surprisingly calm as she turned the plastic bag upside down beside Hildy. The doll's head fell out with a thud, and Hildy gagged, scooting back on the bench.
"Belinda, are you crazy? Get that thing away from me!"
"I mean it, Hildy, I want to know the truth." Belinda squatted on the grass in front of her and ignored the first bell as the campus cleared. Hildy's mouth dropped open in surprise.
"This isn't a joke?"
"You tell me. Someone put it in my mailbox yesterday." She shuddered at the memory, but kept her eyes on the other girl's face. "Hildy?"
"Oh, God, Belinda -- it's making me sick--" Hildy got down on the ground beside her and clutched at her stomach. "Look, there's Frank now. Why don't you ask him?**
"Truants! Get to class!" Frank flashed his most disarming grin, and bent to give Hildy a kiss. "My
fan club awaits me and --" As his senses suddenly became aware of the doll's head, his whole face looked repulsed. 'What the hell is that?"
"I was hoping you could tell me," Belinda said coolly.
Frank stared at her for a long moment, a faint touch of mockery flickering in his eyes. "Oh, so I see Fm still on your hit list, huh, Belinda?"
"Come on, Frank, if you did it, just say so."
'Well, aren't we feeling just a tiny bit paranoid today?" He kicked out at the head, sending it rolling onto the ground. Its sockets gaped up at him. "Is this supposed to remind me of something?"
"Frank, please." Hildy grabbed his arm. "We'd all like to just forget --"
"Yeah? Well, tell that to your neurotic friend here. Tell her to forget it instead of driving the rest of us nuts."
"Frank!" Hildy pleaded, but he shook her off, throwing one arm around Belinda and pulling her close.
"If anyone finds out anything" he smiled sweetly, leaning down into Belinda's face, "it'll be because of you. And you wouldn't want anything to happen to me, would you, Belinda? Because you know and / know, that you still think I'm pretty wonderful --"
"Oh, Frank, just stop it." Behnda pushed at him, but he held her tighter, his grin widening.
"You think about what's at stake here -- if any questions come up, / wasn't the one driving, remember?"
The look on Hildy's face was positively stricken. Belinda saw it through a haze of anger, and thought for a split second that Hildy was going to faint.
"And I promise you, Belinda Swanson," Frank added, his finger wagging back and forth, playfully, in front of her face, "I'll swear Hildy wasn't driving, either."
Belinda felt numb as he sauntered away. She was trembling all over, drenched in cold sweat. Hildy was as pale as marble, and as Belinda prodded the doll's head back into the bag with her shoe, Hildy reached weakly for her arm.
"Belinda . . . just don't
There were wet globs of red on her fingers . . .
and the smell made her gag and step back off the curb.
Belinda stared at the mailbox in horror.
It's Frank playing a joke again . . . it has to be Frank . . . some sick^ stupid joke and damn you, Frank, for what you got us into --
She couldn't put her hand back in there. Yet -- whatever it was -- she couldn't leave it inside.
Carefully she listened, but nothing moved. The thing in the mailbox was dead -- it had to be dead -- and by the smell of it, had been dead a long time.
Slowly she eased her fingers inside . . . groping . . . groping . . . she felt something soft beneath the slime.
Holding her breath, she cupped her palm around it and lifted it out.
The scream she'd been holding back rose into her throat and stuck there, the awful, hideous thing in her hand looking back at her beneath a smeared coating of mashed entrails.
It was a head.
Once it had been part of a doll.
Once it had probably been beautiful.
Only now its face had been slashed repeatedly and someone had stitched it sloppily back together with thick, black thread.
It was grinning at her.
And where its eyes should have been, there were only deep, black holes.
Chapter 8
"Okay, Hildy, start talking."
Belinda's voice was surprisingly calm as she turned the plastic bag upside down beside Hildy. The doll's head fell out with a thud, and Hildy gagged, scooting back on the bench.
"Belinda, are you crazy? Get that thing away from me!"
"I mean it, Hildy, I want to know the truth." Belinda squatted on the grass in front of her and ignored the first bell as the campus cleared. Hildy's mouth dropped open in surprise.
"This isn't a joke?"
"You tell me. Someone put it in my mailbox yesterday." She shuddered at the memory, but kept her eyes on the other girl's face. "Hildy?"
"Oh, God, Belinda -- it's making me sick--" Hildy got down on the ground beside her and clutched at her stomach. "Look, there's Frank now. Why don't you ask him?**
"Truants! Get to class!" Frank flashed his most disarming grin, and bent to give Hildy a kiss. "My
fan club awaits me and --" As his senses suddenly became aware of the doll's head, his whole face looked repulsed. 'What the hell is that?"
"I was hoping you could tell me," Belinda said coolly.
Frank stared at her for a long moment, a faint touch of mockery flickering in his eyes. "Oh, so I see Fm still on your hit list, huh, Belinda?"
"Come on, Frank, if you did it, just say so."
'Well, aren't we feeling just a tiny bit paranoid today?" He kicked out at the head, sending it rolling onto the ground. Its sockets gaped up at him. "Is this supposed to remind me of something?"
"Frank, please." Hildy grabbed his arm. "We'd all like to just forget --"
"Yeah? Well, tell that to your neurotic friend here. Tell her to forget it instead of driving the rest of us nuts."
"Frank!" Hildy pleaded, but he shook her off, throwing one arm around Belinda and pulling her close.
"If anyone finds out anything" he smiled sweetly, leaning down into Belinda's face, "it'll be because of you. And you wouldn't want anything to happen to me, would you, Belinda? Because you know and / know, that you still think I'm pretty wonderful --"
"Oh, Frank, just stop it." Behnda pushed at him, but he held her tighter, his grin widening.
"You think about what's at stake here -- if any questions come up, / wasn't the one driving, remember?"
The look on Hildy's face was positively stricken. Belinda saw it through a haze of anger, and thought for a split second that Hildy was going to faint.
"And I promise you, Belinda Swanson," Frank added, his finger wagging back and forth, playfully, in front of her face, "I'll swear Hildy wasn't driving, either."
Belinda felt numb as he sauntered away. She was trembling all over, drenched in cold sweat. Hildy was as pale as marble, and as Belinda prodded the doll's head back into the bag with her shoe, Hildy reached weakly for her arm.
"Belinda . . . just don't
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