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Authors: R. L. Stine
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Cally. I’ll try.”
Half an hour later Cally still couldn’t fall asleep. She glanced at her clock-radio. Nearly one-thirty. I’m going to look like death for my first day at work, she thought miserably. She sat up and lowered her feet to the floor. If only I could turn my mind off, she thought. If only I could stop thinking about Kody and her ghosts. If only I could stop thinking about those poor people thirty years ago, sitting in my living room—sitting right downstairs—with their heads ripped off. If only I could turn it all off and get to sleep. She rubbed her cheeks. They were burning. So hot, she thought. I’m so hot. She stood up and made her way through the darkness out into the hall. The bathroom was two doors down. Tiptoeing over the creaky floorboards, she made her way to the bathroom and clicked on the light. I’ll splash a little cold water on my face, she told herself. Then I’ll feel cooler. Better. I’ll be able to sleep. Yawning, she turned on the tap. Closing her eyes, she cupped both hands under the faucet, then splashed the liquid onto her face. It took a few seconds for the putrid smell to reach her nostrils.
And then, staring into the gurgling sink, Cally opened her mouth and gagged.
Chapter 13
Chunky green liquid, as sour smelling as vomit, poured out of the faucet, plopping into the sink. It ran down Cally’s cheeks, dripped onto her neck, then onto the front of her nightshirt. Uttering a low wail of horror, she tried to wipe it off with both hands. But her hands were also covered in the disgusting, thick goo. She stared as the green chunks plopped into the sulk. “Ohhh,” Cally groaned. The smell was overpowering. Her stomach lurched. She bent over and began to vomit. “Cally—are you sick? Cally?” Kody burst into the bathroom. She let out a groan as the putrid odor invaded her nostrils. “Ohhhh.” Cally moaned and retched again. Her hair fell over her face, and she realized she had smeared the green liquid into it. “What is that stuff?” Kody cried, holding her nose. She froze for a moment, staring at the thick green liquid plopping down from the faucet. Then she reached out with her free hand and tried to turn the faucet off. But the liquid kept pouring down, “It—it won’t stop!” Kody screamed. The sink was full. The green liquid slopped over the sides of the sink and dripped to the floor. Cally cried out and leapt back as she felt it drip onto her bare feet. Kody struggled to turn off the faucet. But the knob was stuck. And the chunky green liquid kept flowing out. “What’s going on?” Mr. Frasier’s sleep-filled voice called from the hallway. Cally heard his heavy footsteps over the creaking floorboards. “Daddy—help us!” Her stomach still churning, she grabbed a bath towel off the rack and struggled frantically to wipe the sticky substance off her face. “Oh, good Lord!” Mr. Frasier cried, appearing in the bathroom doorway. He didn’t have his glasses, so he squinted at the gurgling substance overflowing the sink. “Aaaagh.” His face twisted in disgust as he inhaled the foul aroma. Holding his nose, he glanced from Cally to Kody. Then he stepped into the bathroom and reached for the knob on the sink. “It—it won’t turn off,” Cally said, gagging. Before Mr. Frasier could reply, James’s shrill cries burst into the room. “I hear him! I hear him!” Cally tossed the towel down. James appeared in the doorway. His red and white pajamas were twisted so that his pale stomach showed. “Do you hear him?” he demanded, tugging at Mr. Frasier’s pajama sleeve. “Do you hear Cubby?” “Huh?” Mr. Frasier let go of the faucet and turned to James. The green liquid continued to pour out, spattering the floor as it overflowed. Over the steady gurgle, Cally heard soft barking, as if from far away. “I hear it!” she cried. “Oooh—what’s that smell?” James demanded. The barking grew louder, high-pitched, frantic wails. “I hear it
Half an hour later Cally still couldn’t fall asleep. She glanced at her clock-radio. Nearly one-thirty. I’m going to look like death for my first day at work, she thought miserably. She sat up and lowered her feet to the floor. If only I could turn my mind off, she thought. If only I could stop thinking about Kody and her ghosts. If only I could stop thinking about those poor people thirty years ago, sitting in my living room—sitting right downstairs—with their heads ripped off. If only I could turn it all off and get to sleep. She rubbed her cheeks. They were burning. So hot, she thought. I’m so hot. She stood up and made her way through the darkness out into the hall. The bathroom was two doors down. Tiptoeing over the creaky floorboards, she made her way to the bathroom and clicked on the light. I’ll splash a little cold water on my face, she told herself. Then I’ll feel cooler. Better. I’ll be able to sleep. Yawning, she turned on the tap. Closing her eyes, she cupped both hands under the faucet, then splashed the liquid onto her face. It took a few seconds for the putrid smell to reach her nostrils.
And then, staring into the gurgling sink, Cally opened her mouth and gagged.
Chapter 13
Chunky green liquid, as sour smelling as vomit, poured out of the faucet, plopping into the sink. It ran down Cally’s cheeks, dripped onto her neck, then onto the front of her nightshirt. Uttering a low wail of horror, she tried to wipe it off with both hands. But her hands were also covered in the disgusting, thick goo. She stared as the green chunks plopped into the sulk. “Ohhh,” Cally groaned. The smell was overpowering. Her stomach lurched. She bent over and began to vomit. “Cally—are you sick? Cally?” Kody burst into the bathroom. She let out a groan as the putrid odor invaded her nostrils. “Ohhhh.” Cally moaned and retched again. Her hair fell over her face, and she realized she had smeared the green liquid into it. “What is that stuff?” Kody cried, holding her nose. She froze for a moment, staring at the thick green liquid plopping down from the faucet. Then she reached out with her free hand and tried to turn the faucet off. But the liquid kept pouring down, “It—it won’t stop!” Kody screamed. The sink was full. The green liquid slopped over the sides of the sink and dripped to the floor. Cally cried out and leapt back as she felt it drip onto her bare feet. Kody struggled to turn off the faucet. But the knob was stuck. And the chunky green liquid kept flowing out. “What’s going on?” Mr. Frasier’s sleep-filled voice called from the hallway. Cally heard his heavy footsteps over the creaking floorboards. “Daddy—help us!” Her stomach still churning, she grabbed a bath towel off the rack and struggled frantically to wipe the sticky substance off her face. “Oh, good Lord!” Mr. Frasier cried, appearing in the bathroom doorway. He didn’t have his glasses, so he squinted at the gurgling substance overflowing the sink. “Aaaagh.” His face twisted in disgust as he inhaled the foul aroma. Holding his nose, he glanced from Cally to Kody. Then he stepped into the bathroom and reached for the knob on the sink. “It—it won’t turn off,” Cally said, gagging. Before Mr. Frasier could reply, James’s shrill cries burst into the room. “I hear him! I hear him!” Cally tossed the towel down. James appeared in the doorway. His red and white pajamas were twisted so that his pale stomach showed. “Do you hear him?” he demanded, tugging at Mr. Frasier’s pajama sleeve. “Do you hear Cubby?” “Huh?” Mr. Frasier let go of the faucet and turned to James. The green liquid continued to pour out, spattering the floor as it overflowed. Over the steady gurgle, Cally heard soft barking, as if from far away. “I hear it!” she cried. “Oooh—what’s that smell?” James demanded. The barking grew louder, high-pitched, frantic wails. “I hear it
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