The Five Masks of Dr. Screem Page 4

  I gasped as the blowing winds suddenly stopped. The silence startled me. Here we were, my brother and I. Alone on this dark, cold Halloween night.

  Really alone. More alone than we’d ever been.

  And about to do battle with a powerful, evil, lying wizard.

  Peter pulled the list of masks from his pocket. It trembled in his hand.

  “Where do we go?” he asked, staring into the darkness. “Where do we start?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t have a clue. I couldn’t even begin to think straight.

  Peter and I began to jog down the long driveway. At the street, the hedges rose up like dark ocean waves frozen in place.

  A tall streetlamp cast a triangle of dim light over the hedges.

  “Peter — look.” I grabbed his shoulder and stopped him. I pointed to the bottom of the hedge. “See that?”

  He squinted hard. “Yes,” he answered in a whisper. “Something is tucked in the hedge.”

  My heart started to pound. “Is it a mask? Is it possible?”

  We carefully made our way down the driveway to the hedge.

  I dropped to my knees and lowered my head nearly to the ground. Yes. It was a mask.

  “The insect mask,” Peter whispered.

  In the light from above, it looked olive green. It was shaped like a long face, kind of like a grasshopper’s. I saw wiry antennae on top of the smooth green head. Tiny black eyes. The mouth hung open, revealing a stringy black forked tongue.

  “Wow, that’s ugly,” Peter said.

  I reached out with a trembling hand and touched it. I ran my hand along the top of the head. “I think it’s rubber,” I whispered. “But … it feels … warm.”

  “Screem tried to hide it in the hedge,” Peter said. “But he didn’t hide all of them. This hunt isn’t so tough.”

  I stared at it. Just the sight of the ugly mask sent chill after chill down my back.

  “Go ahead. Pick it up,” Peter said.

  I reached down again — then stopped. “Peter,” I whispered, “did he deliberately leave it showing? Is it a trap?”

  Peter gazed up and down the street. “I don’t see anyone, Monica. Grab the mask. Quick. Put it on before Screem comes back for it.”

  I bent down and reached for the mask. The insect’s buggy little eyes gazed up at me. The antennae quivered in a gust of wind.

  I picked it up in two hands. I started to pull the mask to my face.

  But I stopped with a sharp cry.

  “Peter — it … it moved!” I gasped. “I felt it move! It’s … ALIVE!”

  13

  “No way!” Peter exclaimed.

  I stretched out the opening and gazed inside the mask.

  “Oh, gross!” I cried. “Oh, sick!”

  I dropped the mask to the grass.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” Peter asked.

  “The mask … it’s filled with bugs!” I choked out.

  “Huh?” He took the mask in his hands and gazed inside the opening. “Oh, wow. It’s totally infested!”

  The mask was crawling with fat insects. They scrabbled all over the smooth inside of the mask. They rolled and climbed over each other.

  Peter handed the mask back to me. “Monica, you have to put it on,” he said. “Before Screem comes back for it.”

  “But — but —” I sputtered again. “I can’t, Peter. All those disgusting bugs. There are hundreds of them. How can I put it over my face?”

  “You have to!” Peter cried. “You have to do it, Monica. You heard what Bella said. You have to wear the masks so Screem won’t take them back.”

  I gazed into the mask and felt sick. The bugs were fat and brown and slimy wet.

  “We’ll take turns,” Peter said. “I’ll put on the next one.”

  He pushed the mask to my face. “Go ahead. We want to see Mom and Dad again — don’t we?”

  I stood frozen there, the mask in my hands. A bug crawled out of the mask and walked over my hand. My skin prickled. I wanted to scream.

  My stomach was doing flip-flops. I shook the bug off my hand. It was sticky. I could still feel it on my skin.

  “Do it, Monica,” Peter urged. “Go ahead. Put it on.”

  I couldn’t. No way.

  “Do it, Monica,” Peter repeated. “Hurry.”

  My stomach heaved. My throat tightened. I felt like I was about to puke.

  I took a deep breath. I shut my eyes.

  And I jammed the mask down over my head.

  I didn’t move.

  I didn’t open my eyes.

  The mask fell loosely over my face. I could feel the tiny insect legs poking at my cheeks. The bugs scrabbled down my cheeks … down my neck.

  I could feel them on my chin. Feel them trying to squeeze into my mouth.

  I couldn’t stand it.

  I wanted to jump out of my skin.

  “Peter — help me!” I shrieked. “They’re BITING me! Ohhh … help. They’re BITING my face!”

  14

  The pain ended suddenly.

  I stopped screaming. A hush fell over me. The only sounds I heard were the pounding of my heart and my wheezing, panting breath.

  I opened my eyes. The night was a blur of purple and black.

  “Peter?” My voice was muffled by the heavy rubber mask. But at least the bugs were gone. Vanished. “Peter?”

  I squinted out through the eyeholes of the insect mask. “Peter!”

  Where were we? We weren’t standing in front of the tall hedge. We appeared to be in a thick woods.

  My eyes finally focused on Peter. To my surprise, he didn’t turn to me. He was staring wide-eyed, straight ahead.

  I turned to follow his gaze — and cried out in shock.

  “Peter — what are those things?”

  “Big insects,” he answered. His whole body shook, but he didn’t move his eyes. “They’re … like giant praying mantises, Monica. A dozen of them. I — I don’t believe it!”

  “They’re taller than we are!” I cried.

  The smooth green insects were at least eight feet tall. They had long, slender heads with bulging black eyes as big as teacups on each side. Their antennae swayed in the wind, making a scup scup scup sound as they bumped each other.

  They stood erect on their back legs. I saw giant wings draped behind their backs like silvery capes.

  Their mouths moved up and down rapidly. It took me a while to realize they were chewing. Chewing … chewing … Their teeth made a grinding sound that made my ears ache.

  “It — it’s like a horror movie,” Peter murmured, moving closer to me. “How did this happen?”

  “The mask,” I said in a whisper. “It must be the evil magic of the mask.”

  We watched them, listening to their grinding teeth as they kept chewing … chewing …

  And suddenly they were moving forward. Coming at us quickly, antennae whipping the air as they stepped over the tall grass on their broomstick legs.

  Grinding … grinding … grinding …

  Their huge black eyes glowed as they lowered their flat heads.

  “Peter — run!” I gave him a shove and lurched to the side.

  “Oh, noooo.” I let out a moan. Nowhere to run. The big insects surrounded us. They formed a tight circle, trapping us.

  They raised wiry front legs. They rubbed them together in front of their flat chests as they stepped closer.

  “Wh-what are they going to do?” Peter stammered. “Eat us?”

  “The mask,” I muttered. “The insect mask is doing this.”

  I knew what I had to do. I had to pull the evil mask off.

  I grabbed the sides and tugged.

  No.

  It didn’t budge.

  I grabbed it by the top. But the rubber was too slippery. I couldn’t grasp it tightly enough.

  Chewing … grinding … the insects stepped closer. Their antennae waved rapidly over their heads.

  Frantic, I grabbed the bottom of the mask. I t
ried to pull it apart so I could free myself from it.

  No. No way.

  “Peter — help me!” I cried.

  Too late.

  A giant mantis lowered itself — and bumped its head against the side of my head.

  “Owww!” I cried out as pain rocketed down my head, down my body. It felt as if I’d been slammed by a wooden board.

  It battered me again. Slammed its long, heavy head into mine.

  Stunned, I felt my knees fold. Pain shot through my head and down my whole body.

  And before I could move, it lifted me. Lifted me in its short, sticky front legs.

  Lifted me off the ground. And pulled me up … up … toward its enormous grinding teeth.

  15

  “No! No! NO!”

  The screams tore from my throat until I couldn’t yell anymore.

  I could see gobs of yellow drool on the insect’s pointed teeth. The jaw moved back and forth above my head.

  It pulled me closer to its grinding teeth. Its head loomed like a gigantic parade balloon.

  I thrashed my hands. I kicked my feet.

  But the slender front legs gripped me tightly. And raised me higher.

  “NOOOOOOO!” Another scream ripped from my mouth and made my throat ache.

  The mantis’s jaws opened wide.

  I tried to squirm. I tried to kick the front of its trunk.

  But it held me helpless. And then …

  To my surprise, it didn’t shove me into its grinding mouth. Instead, it turned. And carried me away from the circle of giant insects.

  I saw Peter being carried by another insect. The big bug had my brother cradled under one bent leg, pressed against its smooth body.

  Peter screamed in protest. But the insect gripped him tightly. He couldn’t move.

  The two insects carried us side by side. They walked stiffly, their bodies bobbing on their thin legs.

  They both stopped suddenly. I glanced down. I saw a line of leafy shrubs.

  The insect holding me leaned forward and began to lower me onto a shrub.

  I let out a sigh of relief. Did this mean it wasn’t going to eat me?

  The spindly legs lowered me onto my back. I gazed down. The bush was only a few feet tall. Maybe I could drop to my feet and run.

  I took a deep breath. I started to move. Slowly, I lowered myself …

  “YOWWWWW!”

  I wailed in pain as the insect jabbed its pointed pincer into my chest. It leaned over me, bringing its head down close to my face. It chomped its jaws.

  It kept me pinned down with the sharp pincer pressed against the front of my gymnastics T-shirt. I was trapped on top of the bush. I couldn’t move.

  “Peter — are you okay?” I called. “Peter?”

  I heard him shout from somewhere nearby. I struggled to turn. But the big mantis had me pinned too tightly to the bush.

  I gazed down toward my feet and saw something that filled me with horror.

  “No! Oh, please — NO!” I screamed.

  The insect was using its other pincer to pull thread from its belly.

  Working quickly, it pulled a long line of sticky white thread from its body. And to my horror, it was wrapping the thread around my legs.

  Like a spider’s webbing. The thread slid out silently, an endless line of it.

  The insect worked feverishly, wrapping my knees together tightly now.

  “Peter?” I called.

  Again, Peter uttered a cry. But he was too far away. I couldn’t hear what he was saying.

  The insect worked faster. Circling my waist now. Pulling more sticky white string from its belly. Tightening it.

  I tried to kick and break through the string, but it was too strong.

  The insect held me in place with its sharp pincer and kept spinning the thread, tighter and tighter.

  The giant mantis was wrapping me inside a thick cocoon.

  “No! Please!” My cries came out shrill and hoarse.

  I swung my arms, but I couldn’t reach the big insect. I tried to twist my body. Twist myself free.

  But the ugly bug had me pinned down. And now it was wrapping its thread around my neck. Round and around.

  Working so fast. Spinning. Wrapping me like a caterpillar in a cocoon.

  The thread whipped around my neck. And now the insect was starting on the mask that covered my face. It was going to wrap the mask tight to my face in the thick webbing.

  The thread swung tightly around the bottom of the mask. In a few seconds, my mouth would be covered.

  One last scream.

  “Peter!” I cried. “Peter — are you here? DO something!”

  16

  I heard Peter scream my name. Then his face appeared above mine.

  His eyes were wide with fear. His mouth hung open. He was breathing hard.

  “I — I broke free,” he stammered.

  “Do something,” I pleaded. “Hurry. I won’t be able to breathe inside this cocoon.”

  Several giant insects lumbered up behind him.

  The giant mantis ignored Peter and continued to pull the white webbing around me.

  Suddenly, Peter swung away from me. At first, I thought he planned to fight the insects with karate chops and kicks.

  But no. He ducked between two big mantises. I saw him dive to the ground.

  A second later, he stood up. He raised one hand high. “Monica — look!”

  He swung his trick-or-treat bag in the air.

  “Hey, look!” he shouted to the huge insects. “Check this out!”

  He raised the shopping bag high over his head. Then he dumped all the candy onto the ground.

  “Go get it!” Peter cried. He motioned to the candy. “Candy! Mmmm good! It’s for you! Go get it! Yummm!”

  The insects stood stiffly in a line. Their shiny black eyes appeared to spin. Their mouths moved up and down.

  Suddenly, their wings fluttered behind their backs. And they made a high-pitched eeh eeh eeh sound. All of them at once. It sounded like a saw cutting through wood.

  Their papery wings rose on their backs as they bent their long bodies. They dove for the candy. They grabbed the candy in their jaws.

  The eeh eeh eeh sound was drowned out by the chomping and grinding as they devoured Peter’s trick-or-treat candy.

  The big mantis holding me prisoner suddenly froze. The white thread fell slack as the insect stopped spinning its cocoon.

  It turned away from me and dove to the ground. Its wings fluttered behind it as it snatched a candy bar in its jaws.

  “Peter — hurry,” I choked out.

  He ducked around the insects and stumbled up to me. He grabbed at the tightly wrapped cocoon and began to tear at it with both hands.

  “Hurry,” I whispered.

  “I — I’m doing my best!” he cried. “It’s so sticky and disgusting.”

  He ripped a section of cocoon off my waist. Then he frantically pulled at the webbing covering my legs.

  As he ripped and tore and raked at the thick threads, he kept glancing back at the big insects.

  Wings fluttered. The night air rang out with the clatter of grinding teeth.

  Peter ripped a section of webbing off my legs. He tried to toss it to the ground. But it stuck wetly to his hand.

  I kicked my leg free. I swung around and kicked the other leg out of the cocoon.

  My legs tingled and felt numb. I kicked them in the air a few more times, trying to get the blood flowing.

  Peter grabbed at the webbing over my hands.

  “No,” I said. “No time.”

  I twisted my body and slid down the side of the shrub to the ground. “Let’s go,” I whispered. “Run!”

  Peter took off, running along the row of shrubs, away from the insects.

  I stumbled after him. My legs were both still asleep. I couldn’t really feel them. And my hands were tied tightly in front of me.

  I couldn’t get my balance. But I knew we had to run.

  The
candy wouldn’t last forever. And then …

  “Oh, nooo!” Peter cried, gazing back. “They see us! They’re coming!”

  17

  Peter and I turned and ran along a line of tall bushes. I kept losing my balance and stumbling over the leafy ground.

  I heard the thud of footsteps. Glancing back, I could see the tall insects leaping after us on their hind legs. Their wings were spread high above their backs. Their antennae fluttered and swayed wildly.

  Eeh eeh eeh!

  The shrill sound became their battle cry.

  They were too tall. Too fast. No way could Peter and I outrun them.

  “They — they’re going to catch us,” I choked out, running close behind my brother. “They’re going to wrap us both in cocoons.”

  “No!” Peter shouted. He turned without warning and threw himself into a bush.

  In seconds, he disappeared. Pushed his way to the other side.

  I glanced back. The giant insects came running toward me. They reached out their spindly front legs, ready to grab me.

  I knew I had only seconds to act.

  I turned to the bush. So thick. I couldn’t find an opening.

  The thread over my hands was unraveling. I tugged at it. It was amazingly strong.

  I had a crazy idea. Frantically, I pulled off a length of the thread. With a desperate heave, I tossed one end to the top of the bush.

  I got lucky. It caught.

  As the insects closed in, I took a running leap at the bush. And gripping the thread in both hands, I swung myself out of their grasp. I landed on the top of the bush — and dropped to the other side beside my brother.

  Peter jumped back, startled.

  We both stood there, hiding behind the solid row of bushes. Inside the insect mask, my face was drenched in sweat. My whole body tingled. Patches of sticky webbing clung to my arms and chest.

  Would the ugly mantises come leaping through the bushes?

  If they did, they would capture us. Peter and I were too winded to run anymore.

  I listened hard. Listened for their tapping footsteps, their eeh eeh eeh chirp.

  But no. Silence.

  I stared through the eyeholes of the mask. I felt cold all over. Pure, cold dread.

  But still … silence.

  I turned — and gasped. I blinked several times, trying to focus my eyes.