Claws!
GOOSEBUMPS HorrorLand™
Also Available from Scholastic Audio Books
#1 REVENGE OF THE LIVING DUMMY
#2 CREEP FROM THE DEEP
#3 MONSTER BLOOD FOR BREAKFAST!
#4 THE SCREAM OF THE HAUNTED MASK
#5 DR. MANIAC VS. ROBBY SCHWARTZ
#6 WHO’S YOUR MUMMY?
#7 MY FRIENDS CALL ME MONSTER
#8 SAY CHEESE—AND DIE SCREAMING!
#9 WELCOME TO CAMP SLITHER
#10 HELP! WE HAVE STRANGE POWERS!
#11 ESCAPE FROM HORRORLAND
#12 THE STREETS OF PANIC PARK
GOOSEBUMPS HORRORLAND BOXED SET #1-4
WELCOME TO HORRORLAND: A SURVIVAL GUIDE
#13 WHEN THE GHOST DOG HOWLS
#14 LITTLE SHOP OF HAMSTERS
#15 HEADS, YOU LOSE!
#16 SPECIAL EDITION: WEIRDO HALLOWEEN
#17 THE WIZARD OF OOZE
#18 SLAPPY NEW YEAR!
#19 THE HORROR AT CHILLER HOUSE
GOOSEBUMPS HorrorLand™
HALL OF HORRORS
#1 CLAWS!
GOOSEBUMPS®
NOW WITH BONUS FEATURES!
NIGHT OF THE LIVING DUMMY
DEEP TROUBLE
MONSTER BLOOD
THE HAUNTED MASK
ONE DAY AT HORRORLAND
THE CURSE OF THE MUMMY’S TOMB
BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR
SAY CHEESE AND DIE!
THE HORROR AT CAMP JELLYJAM
HOW I GOT MY SHRUNKEN HEAD
THE WEREWOLF OF FEVER SWAMP
A NIGHT IN TERROR TOWER
WELCOME TO DEAD HOUSE
WELCOME TO CAMP NIGHTMARE
GHOST BEACH
THE SCARECROW WALKS AT MIDNIGHT
YOU CAN’T SCARE ME!
RETURN OF THE MUMMY
REVENGE OF THE LAWN GNOMES
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Goosebumps
HALL OF
HORRORS
CLAWS!
R.L. STINE
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Welcome Back to the Hall of Horrors
Preview
About the Author
Copyright
WELCOME TO THE HALL OF HORRORS
THERE’S ALWAYS ROOM FOR ONE MORE SCREAM
You’re right—you can’t find it on the HorrorLand map. This old castle is a place for very special visitors only. This is a place for kids who have stories to tell.
Step inside. Welcome to the Unliving Room. Yes, it’s cold in here — cold as the grave.
Come sit by the fire. I like the way the flames make the shadows dance on the wall. Want to hear something strange? When the fire is out, the shadows still dance on the wall.
I am the Story-Keeper. Here in the darkest, most hidden part of the park, I keep the doors to the Hall of Horrors open.
Kids find their way here. Frightened kids. Haunted kids. They are eager to tell me their stories. I am the Listener. And I am the Keeper of their tales.
Those shadowy faces on the wall? They are paintings of the kids who brought their frightening tales to me. Funny how their eyes seem to follow you around the room—isn’t it?
We have a visitor today. That boy sitting by the fireplace, so pale, with his hands clasped so tensely. His name is Mickey Coe.
Mickey is twelve. A nice-looking young man. But something has creeped him out. Let’s go talk to him.
“What is your story about, Mickey?”
“It’s about a black cat.”
“Aah, yes. A black cat. You may not know this, but black cats can be lucky.”
“Not for me,” Mickey says.
“Well, go ahead, Mickey. I am the Story-Keeper. Start at the beginning. Tell me your story.”
Mickey swallows. He makes a gulping sound. “Are you sure? It’s pretty weird and scary,” he says.
Go ahead, Mickey. Don’t be afraid. There’s Always Room for One More Scream at the HALL OF HORRORS….
1
“Let me hold her for a while.”
Amanda grabbed the cat from my hands and bumped me out of the way. She bumped me so hard, I almost fell onto the couch.
“You don’t have to grab,” I muttered.
“It’s faster, Mickey,” she said. “You’re as slow as a banana.”
Banana?
She’s weird.
The Caplans laughed. “I thought you were best friends,” Mrs. Caplan said. “Do you always argue like that?”
“No. Never,” I said.
“Yes. Always,” Amanda said.
Mrs. Caplan is a tall woman with long, straight black hair, thick black eyebrows, and big green eyes. She loves to wear bright colors, red and purple and yellow.
She has a deep voice and speaks as if she’s onstage. She told us she wanted to be a Broadway actress. But she ended up a drama teacher in the high school instead.
Mr. Caplan is shorter and less colorful. And quiet. He has short, wavy hair, mostly gray. And he wears round, black-framed glasses that make him look a little like an owl.
He was our fifth-grade teacher last year. He was a pretty good teacher, except he talked about his vegetable garden too much.
And it was kind of weird having your next-door neighbor for your teacher.
Bella, the Caplans’ black cat, settled into Amanda’s arms and purred softly. Amanda grinned at me.
I knew what that grin was saying. Bella likes me better than you, Mickey.
“Bella doesn’t usually like to be held,” Mr. Caplan said, scratching his gray hair.
“She’s a sweet, sweet cat,” Mrs. Caplan said. “But she’s not a lap cat.”
“She sure has taken to you, Amanda,” Mr. Caplan said.
Amanda flashed me that obnoxious grin again.
She should be nice to me. I’m the one who got us this cat-sitting job.
But no problem. I’m used to my friend Amanda Underwood.
I mean, she has lived across the street from me my whole life. So she’s like a tree … or a rock … or a mailbox. You know. Something that’s just always been there.
Amanda seems a lot sweeter than she is. She is about two inches shorter than me. She’s kind of tiny and looks about nine or ten, even though she’s my age, twelve.
She has straight copper-colored hair, big blue eyes, and a tiny mouth shaped just like a little heart.
&
nbsp; A lot of words come from that tiny mouth. I mean, she says about a hundred words to my one. And she talks really fast, like she’s always excited and in a big hurry.
I guess I’m the quiet type — especially next to Amanda.
Don’t get me wrong. Amanda and I are best friends. We really like each other.
We just don’t always get along.
“So let me get it straight,” Amanda said, gently petting Bella’s back. The cat had her eyes closed and made soft purring sounds. “We come here to your house twice a day and feed Bella and give her water.”
Mr. Caplan nodded. “That’s right. And clean the litter box. Don’t forget that part.”
“That will be Mickey’s job,” Amanda said.
Nice!
“We’ll be sailing for six days,” Mrs. Caplan said. She moved her arms to show ocean waves. “But you can reach us if you need to. I’ll leave you the numbers.”
“I’ll leave you my brother’s number, too,” Mr. Caplan added. “In case you have any trouble.”
“We can handle it. Easy job,” I said.
“We won’t have any trouble,” Amanda said. “Look how sweet Bella is.”
The cat raised her head and gazed up at Amanda with her bright yellow eyes.
“She is so awesomely sweet,” Amanda said, cuddling the black cat.
Famous last words?
You have no idea.
2
The horror didn’t start until the second afternoon.
The idea was to care for Bella twice a day—before school and after school. It was an easy job. And fun—especially for me because I’ve always liked cats.
And the Caplans were paying us each fifty dollars for the week. Not too shabby, right?
The first day was good. We went in the morning before school. Bella seemed glad to see us. She meowed and rubbed against our legs.
“She’s hungry,” Amanda said. “I’ll feed her while you scoop out the litter box.”
“And tomorrow we’ll trade jobs?” I asked.
“Why would we do that?” Amanda replied.
It was early in the morning. I didn’t feel like fighting with her.
We fed Bella and petted her a little. Then we locked the door carefully behind us and hurried to school.
That afternoon, Amanda let me feed the cat. Bella gets dry food in the morning and wet food in the afternoon.
I had a little trouble opening the can. The pulltop snapped off.
“You’re as clumsy as an onion,” Amanda said. I told you she was weird. “Use the electric can opener, Mickey. Want me to do it?”
“I can handle it,” I said.
I opened the can easily. Pulled off the lid. Forked the disgusting, fishy stuff into Bella’s bowl.
“Don’t give it to her like that,” Amanda said, grabbing the bowl from me. “You have to mash it up first.”
“Since when are you the cat expert?” I asked.
“Since today,” she answered.
Bella sat on her haunches, staring up at the food bowl. Her yellow eyes didn’t blink.
I don’t think she cared if the food was mashed up or not. But Amanda always thinks she knows everything.
Bella gulped the food down hungrily.
“Should we play with her or something?” I said. “Think she’s lonely?”
Bella answered the question for us. She licked the bowl clean. Then she ran off to another room.
“Maybe cats don’t get bored or lonely,” I said.
“You have something disgusting stuck in your nose,” Amanda said. “I’ve been meaning to tell you all day.”
“All day?” I cried. “You waited all day?”
She tossed back her head and laughed.
“Mickey, how is it going with Bella?” Dad asked me at dinner that night.
“Perfect,” I said.
“If you have any trouble, just ask your mom or me for help,” he said.
“Okay,” I said. “But there won’t be any trouble.”
Wrong.
The next morning, we fed Bella and gave her fresh water. Amanda picked her up and put her in her lap. The cat pawed at her. She tapped Amanda’s shoulder like she was trying to tell her something.
That made Amanda laugh.
Then I heard her mutter, “Uh-oh. Oh, noooo.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Amanda was tugging hard at Bella’s tail. “We have a little problem,” she said.
3
“Problem?” I hurried over to them on the couch.
“My bubble gum,” Amanda said, tugging at the black fur on Bella’s tail. “It flew out when I laughed. And now it’s stuck to her tail.”
I bent down and studied the pink blob stuck in the black fur.
“Why were you chewing bubble gum at seven-thirty in the morning?” I asked.
“I always have bubble gum after breakfast,” Amanda said. “It helps get the egg taste from my mouth.”
She gave a hard tug.
The cat yowled and tried to jump away.
“Help me hold her!” Amanda shouted.
I grabbed Bella around the middle. She swiped at me with her front paws and tried to squirm out of my hands.
“Can’t you twist the gum off?” I asked, struggling to hold the cat still.
“Her fur is all stuck to it,” Amanda said. “I have to cut it off.”
She pushed Bella at me. I gripped her and held her tight against my chest. The cat’s heart was beating so hard.
I tried to calm her down. But her back was stiff and she held her tail straight out.
Amanda ran to the kitchen. A few seconds later, she returned carrying a pair of scissors. “Hold her still,” she ordered.
“I’m trying,” I said. “She doesn’t like this.”
“She’s being very good,” Amanda said. “She’s a very good cat.”
Amanda slid one hand down the cat’s tail. I couldn’t bear to watch. “Just don’t cut her tail off,” I said.
Snip snip.
“All done,” Amanda said. She held up a glob of pink gum covered in fur.
Bella pulled free and jumped to the floor. She turned and stared at us, her tail curling up behind her.
“Amanda, look what you did!” I cried. “She has a bald spot on her tail.” There was a circle bigger than a quarter where I could see the pink skin poking through.
Amanda shrugged. “It’ll probably grow back before the Caplans get home,” she said. “Cat fur grows fast.”
I shook my head. I felt kind of shaky.
Bella lowered her tail and padded into the other room.
“You can’t even see the bald spot,” Amanda said. “No one will notice.”
“We’re going to be late for school,” I muttered.
Amanda laughed. “Look at you, Mickey. You’re white as a sheet and you’re sweating!”
“So?”
“So what would you do if we had a real emergency with the cat?” Amanda asked.
“Totally freak out?” I joked.
We both laughed.
After school, we went to my house to drop off our backpacks. In my room, my goldfish were staring out of the tank at me. I picked up a box of fish food and started to sprinkle some into the water.
“Not like that.” Amanda grabbed the food box from my hand. “Just give them a little at a time, Mickey. You don’t want fat goldfish — do you? “
“Huh? Fat goldfish?” I tugged her hair just to be annoying. “Are you the goldfish expert, too?”
She ignored me and moved to the cage where I keep Zorro, my white mouse. Zorro twitched his pink nose and poked it through the cage bars. He likes attention.
“Are you sure he’s getting enough exercise?” Amanda asked.
“Why don’t you go on Animal Planet?” I said. “You could be the expert on every animal.”
Amanda tickled Zorro’s head. “Maybe I will,” she said. “Are you giving him carrots and fresh fruit?”
“What’s up
with all the advice?” I said. “You’re the one who stuck bubble gum to Bella’s tail.”
“Accidents happen,” Amanda said. Laughing, she shoved me out of the way so she could be the first one down the stairs.
We crossed the driveway, bumping each other, trying to knock each other over. And we were still arguing about who was an animal expert and who wasn’t.
When we were inside the Caplans’ house, it took a while to find Bella. She was in the laundry room, pressed between the washer and the dryer. It was a cozy spot. Maybe she stayed there a lot. Or maybe she was playing hide-and-seek with us.
She stared up at us with those yellow eyes. Stared hard. Of course, we knew what she wanted—her dinner.
Amanda and I turned and started for the kitchen. Bella stood up and followed us.
We were crossing the front hall when I saw something that made me gasp. “Oh, no! The front door!” I cried.
We had left it wide open.
I started toward it but bumped into Amanda. It took me a few seconds to catch my balance.
“Noooo!” I shouted as Bella took off, running toward the open door.
“Bella! No! Bella—stop!” Amanda and I screamed.
But the cat lowered her head and kept running.
“Bella—wait! Bella!”
The cat flew out the open door and darted down the front lawn.
We chased after her. My heart pounded so hard, my chest hurt. Amanda came right behind me, screaming Bella’s name.
I stopped short when I saw the big red truck rolling down the block.
Bella ran into the street.
My scream rose over the squeal of the brakes.
The truck skidded hard.
I heard a horrible high screech.
I saw the truck tire bump over Bella.
The truck jolted to a stop.
Then … silence.
4
The driver’s door swung open. The driver jumped down and came running toward us.
He was a big man with scraggly black hair and a short black beard. His belly bounced under the shirt of his wrinkled blue uniform.
“Bella! Bella?” Amanda had her hands cupped around her mouth and was still shouting the cat’s name.