They Call Me Creature

  Go ahead and scream.

  No one can hear you. You’re no longer in the safe world you know.

  You’ve taken a terrifying step …

  into the darkest corners of your imagination.

  You’ve opened the door to …

  Welcome…

  I’m R.L. Stine. Let me introduce you to the newest visitor to The Nightmare Room. That’s Laura Atkins, the tall, pretty girl surrounded by animals. Those are strays Laura found in the woods behind her house.

  Laura loves the woods and its creatures. It’s where she feels most at home. Unfortunately, there’s a creature lurking in the woods that Laura will be sorry she met. In fact, there are several creatures hiding among the trees that don’t belong there. That don’t belong anywhere.

  Laura’s father has been acting strangely. He used to love walking in the woods with her. But now he orders her to stay away. Does he know something that Laura doesn’t? Does he know that the path through the woods leads directly to … THE NIGHTMARE ROOM?

  Contents

  PROLOGUE

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  About the Author

  Preview: The Nightmare Room #7 The Howler

  Credits

  About the Publisher

  Copyright

  Prologue

  They call me Creature.

  But I’m not. I’m a human being. I’m a person.

  I was born human. I lived most of my life as a human. I am still a human.

  I act like a person. I think like a person.

  I am not a creature!

  Yes, sometimes I get urges. I get such powerful cravings.

  When the feeling comes over me, I can’t help myself. I can’t control myself.

  I get so hungry. So hungry … as if my whole body needs to feed. And feed and feed.

  As I prowl the woods, I must kill for food. I must slash and tear and chew. I fill my belly and keep on feeding. I let the warm juices run down my chin.

  Afterward, I force myself to look in a mirror. And I cry out in pain, in sorrow. In shame.

  Creature … you ugly creature.…

  I wasn’t always like this. I didn’t always have to hide my face.

  Now I live in the shadows. I have no friends. No one I can trust.

  I am so lonely.

  I am so tempted to talk to someone. So eager to tell my story to someone who will listen.

  But I cannot let my guard down. No one must know. No one must ever know what I am.

  That’s why I force myself to look in the mirror.

  I stare at my face and then I remember.

  I remember. I remember.

  I remember why they call me Creature.

  “CAW CAW CAW CAW!”

  “It’s okay, Mr. Crow,” I said softly. I finished bandaging the bird and set it down gently in its cage.

  “CAWW CAWWW!” It struggled to flutter its broken wing. “Dad, do you think it will heal?”

  Dad didn’t answer. He turned the page of the magazine he was reading.

  “Dad? What do you think?”

  He picked up a pencil and circled a sentence on the page.

  “Dad?”

  “Did you say something, Laura?” My father glanced up and squinted at me through his thick, black-framed glasses.

  “Do you think the wing will heal?” I asked again.

  “What wing?” Dad returned to the magazine and started scribbling notes in the margin.

  I caught the surprise on my friend Ellen’s face. She hadn’t seen Dad’s new faraway personality.

  Far away.

  That was the best way to describe my father these days. Even when we were in the same room together, he seemed to be someplace else.

  Lucky, the big stray cat I’d found in the woods, bumped past me, nearly knocking over the bird cage. He began licking Dad’s hand with his long tongue.

  Dad jerked his hand away. “Please take the cat out. I’m trying to concentrate.” He circled more sentences, pressing so hard, the pencil point broke with a sharp snap.

  “Where am I supposed to put him?” I sighed. “I can’t use the shed anymore since you’re working in there.”

  Dad stared at the crow and Lucky, as if seeing them for the first time. “Why can’t I live in a house, Laura? Why do I have to live in a zoo?”

  “You’re a vet!” I cried. “You’re supposed to love animals—remember?”

  Ellen forced a laugh. But I could see she was really embarrassed. She had never seen Dad and me yelling at each other. She hadn’t seen Dad since … since he changed.

  I had stopped inviting my friends over because I never knew what Dad was going to say or do. But Ellen was my best friend, and I missed hanging out with her. So I asked her to come over today. But maybe it was a big mistake.

  I picked up the cage in one hand and Lucky in the other. I took them both down the hall to my room and shut the door.

  I swung my camera around my neck. “Come on, Ellen,” I said. “Let’s get to the woods.”

  Our house sits on the edge of a quiet country road. Our back lawn is deep and lush and ends at the woods. So I’ve always considered the woods and the little streams that flow through it part of my backyard.

  That’s where I feel the happiest. It’s so beautiful in the woods, so peaceful and filled with life.

  In the mornings before I go to school, I stand in the center of our lawn and stare out at tall, leafy trees that seem to stretch on forever. Then I breathe in the morning scent of fresh pine. I love that smell.

  I checked out my camera, making sure I had put in a new film cartridge.

  Ellen brushed back her straight, black hair. She loves her hair. She’s always pushing it back, pulling it to the side, sweeping her hands through it.

  I’m totally jealous of her hair. Mine is long, and red-brown. It’s totally unmanageable.

  Ellen’s eyes flashed. “Are we going into the woods because of your science project? Or because you want to see that boy you met there last week?”

  I let out a groan. “Because of my project,” I said. “Life isn’t only about boys, you know.”

  “Well, you’re the one who was talking about him all morning. ‘I wonder if I’ll see him again. I wonder where he lives. I wonder if he has a girlfriend.…’” She laughed.

  “Okay. Okay.” I had to admit it. I had been thinking about Joe a lot since I ran into him by Luker Pond.

  “It’s just that boys don’t usually notice me,” I said. “And he seemed so nice. And when I told him about my science project, he seemed really interested.”

  “Then we have two projects,” Ellen stated. “The science project and the boy project! Let’s go.”

  “We just have to find Georgie,” I said.

  “You’re going into the woods?” Dad frowned at me. “You need other interests, Laura. Why don’t you go to the movies?”

  I sighed. Dad has loved the woods his whole life. That’s where I get it from. Since I was little, he and I always roamed the woods for hours and hours, exploring, talking,
laughing. We could always talk about anything.

  Now he spent his time locked up in the little shed in our backyard. And he was always silent or grouchy.

  “I have to work on my science project,” I said. I followed Ellen through the back door.

  She’s tall and skinny and all legs, like a deer. With her big, dark eyes and sort of innocent, round face, Ellen reminds me of a delicate, graceful doe.

  If she’s a doe, I’m a fox. My red-brown hair is kind of like fox fur. I’m short and quick, and I have wide-apart brown eyes and a foxy smile.

  I’m always comparing all the kids I know to animals. I guess it’s because I love animals so much.

  Ellen and I stepped out into a cool, crisp spring day. A string of puffy clouds floated low over the trees. The air smelled fresh and sweet.

  “Sorry about Dad,” I said to Ellen. “He’s so different ever since he left his job at the animal hospital. I’m kind of worried about him.”

  “Maybe you should call your mother. Ask her for some advice,” Ellen suggested.

  “I did call her. But she said I needed to be patient. She said leaving a job is a big deal, and he probably needs time to adjust.”

  “That makes sense,” Ellen said.

  I frowned. “I wish my mom was here. I really miss her. Phone calls and e-mail just aren’t the same.”

  My mom moved to Chicago after she and Dad divorced five years ago. They gave me a choice—and I chose to live with Dad.

  “Some kids might think I made a weird choice,” I admitted. “But I could never live in a city. If I didn’t live near the woods, I’d go crazy.”

  “Chicago sounds pretty exciting to me. I’d move there in a minute,” Ellen said. She peered into the distance, at a large black bird flapping over the trees.

  I watched it, too. Its wings beat rapidly against its body. Hard, almost frantic.

  Another bird rose from the treetops. Flying toward us. Then changing direction abruptly. Flying away. Then back toward us. Frantic. Confused.

  The woods echoed with a sharp cry as another bird soared from the treetops. Then a cloud of birds rose up. A dark cloud of beating wings. Beating so hard, it sounded like thunder.

  I blinked, startled. “What is going on?” I cried.

  More birds flew from the woods. Hundreds of them. Flying in a tight circle. Blocking out the sun. Plunging us into darkness.

  Ellen grabbed my arm. “Wow. What is that?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know,” I gasped, watching the birds, a black tornado swirling, spinning above the trees. “I’ve never seen birds swarm like that!”

  The birds screeched and cawed. Flying low then rising high, flying round and round, circling the woods, squawking louder with each turn.

  I heard the snap of a twig behind me.

  I turned and saw that Dad had followed us outside. Behind his thick glasses, he gazed up at the sky. His hand trembled as he pushed a lock of hair from his eyes.

  “Something has them stirred up,” he whispered. “Something is wrong out there, Laura. Don’t go. Don’t go into the woods today.”

  “I—I have to go,” I replied. “My project …”

  Dad stared at the swirling black funnel cloud of shrieking birds. “Birds don’t act like that unless something is terribly wrong,” he said softly.

  And then he took off, running full speed across the back lawn.

  “Dad!” I shouted. “Dad—where are you going? Come back!”

  He didn’t turn around. I watched him vanish into the trees.

  “What is he doing?” Ellen asked, her hands pressed to her face.

  “I don’t know,” I said, huddling next to her. We watched the dark cloud of birds, circling, circling. Their shrill, frantic cries echoed in my head.

  I raised my hands to my ears to block out the noise—and the cries suddenly stopped. The birds circled now in eerie silence. Their flapping wings slowed.

  They swooped down, down to the woods. Hidden by the leafy treetops, they disappeared. The sky glowed in the sunlight again. And once again I could hear the gentle rustle of the wind.

  Ellen collapsed onto the grass. “That was so totally scary. Those birds—they seemed really angry. I thought they were going to attack us. But then they just vanished.”

  “I’ve never seen anything like that before,” I said, my heart pounding. “I’ll bet Dad is right. Something stirred them up. But what?”

  I cupped my hands around my mouth. “Dad? Where are you?”

  No reply.

  Ellen climbed to her feet. “Do you still want to take photos?” She brushed her hair back. “Do you think it’s safe?”

  I stared at the sky over the trees. The sun sparkled brightly. No birds in sight. “We’ll be okay,” I told her.

  Georgie, my German shepherd, came trotting around the side of the house. His tail started wagging when he saw us.

  He came running up to me first. He knows I’m his best friend. I grabbed his neck, and we started wrestling on the grass.

  “We’re bringing Georgie with us—right?” Ellen asked.

  I nodded. “Of course. I wouldn’t go into the woods without him. Georgie and I have been exploring the woods together since he was a little puppy.”

  Ellen led the way across the grass, and I followed after her. The camera bounced against my chest as I walked. “My project is due in less than two weeks,” I groaned. “And I hardly have any photos.”

  My science project was to study the plant and animal life at Luker Pond. I had already photographed the different kinds of plant life. Now I needed to photograph some animal life.

  I thought it would be easy. But I had visited the pond every afternoon for a week, and I was having trouble finding animals.

  Ellen jogged up to the woods. Her hair swung behind her like a horse’s tail. Georgie and I caught up with her at the forest’s edge.

  She lifted her eyes to the sky above the trees. “What do you think happened?” she asked. “Do you think some big animal frightened the birds from their nests?”

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “And why did my dad—”

  I stopped short when I heard the howl.

  A high, shrill cry. The sound of an animal in pain.

  Georgie raised his head, tensed his back, and started to bark furiously.

  The animal howled again.

  I stepped into the woods and listened carefully, trying to locate the sound.

  Another howl. A wail of agony.

  But it wasn’t coming from the woods.

  I spun around. “Whoa. It’s coming from the garden shed,” I said, pointing.

  The shed is square and wood-shingled. It stands halfway between the house and the woods. It’s nearly as big as a one-car garage, with a solid wood door and a flat roof.

  “What’s in there?” Ellen asked. “What is crying like that?”

  “I don’t know,” I told her. “Dad won’t let me go near it.”

  Ellen squinted hard at the shed. The howling finally stopped. “Laura, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way—but it’s getting kind of creepy around your house.”

  I laughed.

  “What kind of work is he doing in there?” She continued to stare at the shed.

  I sighed. “Some kind of research, I guess. He gets too weird when I ask him about it, so I’m not exactly sure. I tried to go in and take a look last week. But he keeps the door locked.”

  I leaned down and petted Georgie. Then we stepped into the shade of the forest, onto a winding dirt path that curved through the tall trees.

  “Why did your dad leave his job at the animal hospital?” Ellen asked. “Was he fired?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, pushing a low branch out of the way. “He won’t tell me. He hardly speaks to me anymore. I don’t know what to think.”

  Ellen’s eyes flashed. She grabbed my arm. “I know what happened, Laura.” A sly grin spread over her face. “I know why he left his job. Your dad and Dr. Carpenter were goi
ng out—and she dumped him!”

  “YUCK!” I exclaimed. I put my finger down my throat and pretended to puke. “That is so not what happened,” I said. “Dad and Dr. Carpenter? No way.”

  Dad and Dr. Carpenter have known each other for four years, ever since she moved here to run the animal hospital. If she and Dad had some kind of romance going on, I’d know about it.

  “You’re wrong,” I said. “They never went out on a single date or anything.”

  “But she comes to your house all the time,” Ellen argued.

  “Not anymore,” I murmured.

  Dr. Carpenter used to come over a few times a week. We’d all hang out together. Watch videos or play Scrabble. Dad liked to make up crazy words to try to trick Dr. C. It was a lot of fun.

  I loved her visits. It was great to have someone I could talk to about stuff—friends, clothes, teachers.

  “I’m telling you—she dumped him!” Ellen insisted.

  Dad and Dr. Carpenter? I didn’t think so.

  But then why did Dad leave the animal hospital? Dr. Carpenter said Dad was the best vet in the world. She wouldn’t fire him—would she?

  We climbed over a fallen tree, blanketed with thick green and yellow fungus. We were almost to the pond.

  “Let’s talk about this fabulous birthday party I’m throwing for you,” I said. I wanted to change the subject. “I need a list. Who do you want me to invite?”

  “Only boys,” Ellen replied. She grinned.

  “You’re joking, right?” I said.

  “Why don’t you invite that guy you met, Joe?” Ellen suggested. “I’d really like to meet him.”

  “Hey!” I said sharply. “I saw him first!”

  I turned and saw Georgie examining a pile of dead leaves. Sniffing hard, he started to paw furiously at the leaf pile.

  “Georgie—get away from there!” I shouted. “Georgie—no!”

  Ellen made a disgusted face. “Whoa. What is he doing?”

  Ellen doesn’t really like being outdoors that much. She doesn’t like dirt, bugs, or forest animals. She’d much rather be home, reading a book or writing in her diary. She’s a great writer, and she’s the editor of our school newspaper.

  But because she’s such a good friend, she goes into the woods with me to keep me company.

  “Georgie—get away from there!” I shouted.