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Fear Hall: The Beginning
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FEAR HALL: THE BEGINNING
R.L.STINE
Franco Accornero
POCKET BOOKS
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com
1997 Parachute Press, Inc.
First Archway Paperback printing July 1997
The sale of this book without its cover is unauthorized. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Neither the author nor the publisher has received payment for the sale of this “stripped book.”
FEAR HALL: THE BEGINNING authorKEYvalue000000
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By R.L. STINE
Available from Archway Paperbacks
Published by Pocket Books
He’s Out of Control …
“You killed my friend,” Angel snapped. She made a move toward the phone on the desk. “I have to call the police.”
“NO!” Darryl screamed. “You can’t!”
He moved to block her.
“I have no choice. Move out of the way,” Angel ordered. She tried to slip past him to reach the phone.
But Darryl shoved her roughly back.
“I won’t let you, Angel!” he cried. His eyes bulged. His normally pale face darkened to red. “I’ll kill you too!”
BOOKS BY R.L. STINE
FEAR HALL
THE BEGINNING
FEAR STREET SAGAS
A NEW FEAR
HOUSE OF WHISPERS
FORBIDDEN SECRETS
THE SIGN OF FEAR
THE HIDDEN EVIL
DAUGHTERS OF SILENCE
CHILDREN OF FEAR
FEAR PARK
THE FIRST SCREAM
THE LOUDEST SCREAM
THE LAST SCREAM
THE FEAR STREET SAGA
THE BETRAYAL
THE SECRET
THE BURNING
FEAR STREET SAGA COLLECTOR’S EDITION
FEAR STREET CHEERLEADERS
THE FIRST EVIL
THE SECOND EVIL
THE THIRD EVIL
99 FEAR STREET: THE HOUSE OF EVIL
THE FIRST HORROR
THE SECOND HORROR
THE THIRD HORROR
Available from ARCHWAY Paperbacks
For orders other than by individual consumers, Pocket Books grants a discount on the purchase of 10 or more copies of single titles for special markets or premium use. For further details, please write to the Vice-President of Special Markets, Pocket Books, 1633 Broadway, New York, NY 10019-6785, 8th Floor.
For information on how individual consumers can place orders, please write to Mail Order Department, Simon & Schuster Inc., 200 Old Tappan Road, Old Tappan, NJ 07675.
The sale of this book without its cover is unauthorized. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Neither the author nor the publisher has received payment for the sale of this “stripped book.”
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
AN ARCHWAY PAPERBACK Original
An Archway Paperback published by
POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc.
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
Copyright © 1997 by Parachute Press, Inc.
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
ISBN: 0-671-00874-9
eISBN: 978-1-439-13702-4
First Archway Paperback printing July 1997
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3
FEAR STREET is a registered trademark of Parachute Press, Inc.
AN ARCHWAY PAPERBACK and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster Inc.
Cover art by Franco Accornero
Printed in the U.S.A.
IL 7+
FEAR HALL: THE BEGINNING
part one
Hope
chapter 1
All the books you read about Ivy State College tell you that it’s a quiet, pretty school. Not a big university, but a good school, with friendly instructors and about three thousand students from all over the country.
That’s what the books and pamphlets tell you.
They don’t tell you about Fear Hall.
My name is Hope Mathis, and I can tell you about Fear Hall—because I live there.
Fear Hall is the biggest student dormitory at Ivy State. It’s a tall, redbrick building. Sort of old-fashioned looking, with a thick carpet of ivy running down the sides, curling into some of the windows.
I’d guess that maybe fifty girls live in the rooms on my floor, the thirteenth floor. Fear Hall is only a block from The Triangle. That’s the big, grassy area in the middle of campus.
But even though our dorm is so close to the center of the campus, it’s only half full.
Know why?
Because of its bad reputation.
As soon as I moved my stuff into my room—13-B—in September, the other girls started telling me stories about Fear Hall. Frightening stories.
They told me that the dorm was named after Duncan Fear. He donated the money to have it built. He’s a guy from a rich family that lives in Shadyside. That’s a town about fifty miles from here.
The Fear family is supposed to be unlucky, or evil, or something. And I guess a lot of unlucky and weird things have happened in my dorm.
I don’t mean strange sounds at night. Creaking doors. Stuff like that.
I mean things like girls seeing ghosts. And strange creatures floating through the halls. And kids disappearing and never being seen again.
I’m not sure if I believe any of the stories.
But the campus store sells T-shirts and sweatshirts that say: I SURVIVED FEAR HALL.
Sure, it’s a joke. But a lot of kids at Ivy State don’t think it’s funny. And I think that all the jokes and weird stories are the reason why the dorm is only half full.
Some floors are totally empty. But my little room on the thirteenth floor is crowded enough.
I have three roommates—Angel, Eden, and Jasmine.
We’re all freshmen. We’ve only been here a month. But we’re really close friends. We’re like a family. Because we all knew each other in high school.
It’s a good thing we’re so close. Because the four of us are squeezed into a room that’s barely big enough for one!
Should I describe my roommates?
Well, maybe I should start with me. I’m about five seven. Not too tall, not too short. I have blond hair—long and straight, because I don’t like to spend a lot of time on it.
I have light brown eyes and an okay face. I think it’s a little too round. And I think my eyes are too close to my nose.
I guess I could lose a few pounds. Maybe more than a few. But I don’t mind being a little chubby.
Whatever. I’m not the kind of girl who spends a lot of time gazing into mirrors.
At least I don’t spend all my time worrying about every bite of food
the way Angel does. Angel is skinny and blond and very hot looking. The guys all go nuts for her.
She has a soft, little voice that sounds more like purring. The guys all think that’s really sexy. And she slinks around in tights and midriff tops, even though it’s fall.
My other roommate, Eden, is sort of the opposite of Angel. She’s kind of plain and grungy. You know. She wears a lot of big sweaters and sweatshirts over baggy chinos. Lots of flannel shirts from L.L. Bean. No makeup at all. She has light brown hair, very curly, that just bounces around on her head.
Eden has a hoarse, scratchy voice. She’s kind of loud. She says whatever is on her mind. And she’s always cracking jokes.
Eden writes to her mother. Just about every night. They seem to have a really close relationship—not like me and my mom.
Unlike Angel, she doesn’t seem at all interested in the boys here at Ivy State. I’ve never even seen her talking to a boy.
Eden calls Angel “Miss Purrrfect.” I don’t think Angel likes it. But she and Eden get along okay—for opposites.
Jasmine is the quiet one. I’ve known her for three years. And I’ve been living with her in this tiny room since September, and I can barely tell you a thing about her.
She’s very shy. It’s almost impossible to get her to talk about herself. I think she grew up somewhere out west. But I’m not sure.
She’s very pretty. She has bright green eyes that crinkle up when she smiles. She has a great smile that shows off all her teeth. And she has wavy, straw-colored hair that falls perfectly down past her shoulders.
But Jasmine is so shy and self-conscious, I don’t think she knows how pretty she is. She doesn’t go out much. She’s the brain of our group. Always has her face in a book.
She’s taking some really hard courses. Advanced courses. Jasmine thinks she might want to go into pre-med. But she isn’t sure she’s smart enough.
Believe me—she’s smart enough. If we could only find a way to build up her confidence!
Anyway, that’s our little group. The four friends of 13-B.
We’re all very different. But we were really happy.
Until the night the trouble started.
That night, everything changed.
I’ll never forget being awakened that night. Hands shook me roughly.
Still half asleep, I opened my eyes. Squinted up in the darkness.
My eyes stopped at my clock radio. Nearly one in the morning.
The hands shook me again. I sat up in my bed.
“Darryl—what are you doing here?” I whispered. My throat was clogged from sleep.
Darryl is my boyfriend. He leaned close. His hands still gripped my shoulders. I could smell beer on his breath.
I glanced around to see if he had awakened my three roommates. No.
“Darryl—” I whispered. “Get back to your room. You know boys aren’t allowed on the girls’ floors after ten.”
He didn’t move. His hands tightened on my shoulders. Even in the dim, gray light from the window, I could see the fear on his face.
“What are you doing in here?” I repeated.
“Hope, I’m in big trouble,” he said.
chapter 2
I sat up and squirmed out from under his hands. I swallowed hard. “Trouble?” My mouth felt so dry. My breath was sour from sleep.
He nodded and took a step back. A hoarse cry escaped his throat.
“You’ve got to help me,” he said, his voice cracking.
I raised a finger to my lips. “Shhhh. You’ll wake up Angel, Eden, and Jasmine.”
He stared blankly at me. As if he didn’t understand my words. “I don’t care who I wake up,” he said finally. “I mean—I’m in trouble, Hope. I—I did something terrible.”
I felt a chill roll down my back. The skin on my arms prickled.
I stood up and pulled down the long, white cotton nightshirt I was wearing.
I pushed back my hair. The room was cold. But I felt drops of sweat on my forehead. “What did you do?” I demanded in a hoarse whisper.
His pale blue eyes flashed, gray in the dim light. His mouth opened and closed. No sound came out.
He shook his head. His longish hair fell over his face. He swept it back behind the shoulders of his leather bomber jacket. “I followed you,” he confessed. “I followed you tonight. I saw you out with that guy Brendan.”
I gasped. “But that wasn’t me!” I protested. “I didn’t go out with Brendan. Angel did.”
Darryl grabbed me. His fingers tightened around my arms. “Don’t lie to me!” he shrieked. “I saw you!”
“Let go,” I whispered. “Please, Darryl—”
He has a terrible temper. Sometimes he really scares me.
One second he’ll be perfectly in control. The next second he’ll be in a screaming rage. A total lunatic.
He can also be very understanding. Very kind.
I met Darryl back in high school. He rescued me. From a guy named Mark.
But that’s a very long story.
I was so glad that Darryl decided to come to Ivy State. It’s been awesome to have him here with me. He and my three roommates have really helped me make the big jump from high school to life at college.
If only he weren’t so jealous. So possessive.
He never wants any other guy to look at me!
At first, I was flattered. I mean, no boy ever cared about me that much before.
But when I saw how jealous Darryl became … when I saw his temper rage out of control … I knew I’d have to be careful.
I knew that Darryl could be someone to fear.
“Darryl—let go,” I pleaded. “That wasn’t me you saw with Brendan. It was Angel. I swear.”
He let out a sigh. His hands loosened their grip on my arms. “I—I did something terrible,” he stammered.
“What?” I demanded. “What did you do?”
His pale eyes locked on mine. “I carved him, Hope,” Darryl whispered. “I carved him.”
chapter 3
I couldn’t help myself. I let out a scream. And sank back onto my bed, my head spinning.
I heard stirring around the room. Eden groaned. “What’s going on?”
“Who screamed?” Angel cried.
The ceiling lights flashed on. All three of my roommates uttered startled gasps when they saw Darryl standing over me.
“You’re not allowed in here!” Eden shouted. She pulled her blankets up to her chin.
Jasmine gaped at him silently, her blond hair tangled around her face.
“Darryl, what’s your problem?” Angel asked softly. She jumped to her feet. “Why did Hope scream?”
Darryl spun around, his mouth open. Now everyone could see the fear on his face.
Eden shrank back. Jasmine eyed him suspiciously. Angel crossed her arms in front of her pajama shirt and stared hard at him.
“Darryl thought he saw me out tonight with Brendan,” I explained. “He thought—”
“But I was out with Brendan!” Angel protested. “I was wearing Hope’s red outfit. You’re so weird, Darryl. How could you think—”
Darryl’s angry stare silenced her.
“I think I killed him,” he murmured.
“Noooo!” Eden shrieked, pressing her hands to her face.
“You’re kidding—right?” Angel whispered hopefully.
Darryl’s expression showed all of us that he wasn’t kidding.
“You’ve got to help me,” Darryl pleaded, turning back to me. “I’m pretty sure I killed him. I carved him really bad. I just lost it.”
He sighed. “You know how I get sometimes, Hope.”
I gazed past Darryl. Eden had covered her face with both hands. I could see Jasmine trembling from across the room. Her chin quivered. She was about to burst into tears.
Angel stood perfectly still, her arms crossed in front of her. She chewed her bottom lip and stared hard at Darryl.
“We can’t help you,” Angel said finally. “What
do you expect us to do? Hide you under the bed?”
“You’ve got to help me!” Darryl exploded. He tore off the leather jacket and heaved it against the wall. “I—I think someone may have seen me. I’m not sure. I panicked and ran up here.”
His pale eyes pleaded with me. “I didn’t know where else to go,” he added softly.
“Darryl, we can’t do anything,” Eden insisted, lowering her hands from her face. Her eyes were red and wet.
“You killed my friend,” Angel snapped. She made a move toward the phone on the desk. “We have to call the police.”
“No!” he screamed. “You can’t!”
He moved to block her.
“We have no choice,” Eden insisted.
“Move out of the way,” Angel ordered. She tried to slip past him to reach the phone.
But he shoved her roughly back.
“I won’t let you, Angel!” he cried. His eyes bulged. His normally pale face darkened to red. “I’ll kill you too!”
Angel opened her mouth to scream.
A hard knock on the door made us all turn.
The police!
chapter 4
I froze.
My heart stopped.
I saw a flash of white light. I really felt as if I’d stopped breathing.
Another round of hard raps on the door set me into motion. I took a deep breath—and shoved Darryl toward the clothes closet. “Quick—get in!” I ordered.
He stumbled over a pile of dirty clothes in the center of the floor. Then fumbled open the closet door and slipped inside.
I spun back to the door.
How did the police get here so quickly? I wondered. How did they know that Darryl was hiding in my room?
Another series of hard knocks.
“Who is it?” I called breathlessly.
“It’s me—Melanie,” a voice called.
One of the nosy girls from 13-A across the hall. The three M’s—Melanie, Mary, and Margie.
I really can’t stand any of them.
All three of them are so smug and superior. Real preppies. I mean, the worst kind. They all went to fancy, private high schools. And they really turn their noses up at public school kids like me and my roommates.
I’ve had a few unpleasant run-ins with Melanie. A few weeks ago, there was a mix-up with the laundry. Somehow she thought I stole a silk sweater of hers.