Series 2000- Attack of the Graveyard Ghouls Page 4

  And out.

  Yes!

  I could feel the wind again. So fresh and cold.

  I floated over the graves. Tossed back, then forward by the gusting

  winds on the hilltop.

  I had no power of my own, I realized.

  52 No power at all.

  Without a body, I was helpless. I could go only where the wind carried me.

  “I want my body back!” I cried as I tossed on the plunging, swirling

  currents.

  Did that ghoul really plan to take over my life?

  Did he plan to be Spencer Kassimir forever?

  No, I decided. He’s a ghoul. He wanted to use my body to escape the grave.

  And now that he has it …

  Now that he has it, what does he plan to do?

  My parents, my brothers and sister - are they in danger?

  You’re not going to find the answers until you get out of here, I told

  myself.

  But how? HOW?

  Whoa. A gust of wind swept me lower.

  I saw a flicker of light over a gravestone. Then another. And another.

  Small flashes of bright light, flickering over all the gravestones now.

  And then dark shapes began to form in the mist. Figures rising up all

  around me, rising from the graves.

  People?

  No. Not people.

  Shadows of people. Their features pale, almost transparent. Shadows

  hovering over the graves, staring blankly, lifelessly straight ahead.

  Tossed by the wind, I watched in helpless terror

  51

  as the figures floated up. I recognized old people and young, with

  withered skin and sunken eyes. Arms missing. Some of them toothless.

  Some with hardly any flesh at all.

  A young woman drifted over her grave. Patches of blond hair stuck to her

  skull. She wore a pale pink dress, stained with mud, half-eaten away,

  crawling with white worms.

  A man rose up from his grave. His dark hair slicked down and combed

  neatly, over a skeletal face with no skin and no eyes. A bug poked its

  head from one empty eye socket. The man grinned up at me, a hideous,

  broken-jawed grin.

  The shadow of an old woman rose up from her grave - and I gasped. Shiny

  gray slugs - hundreds of them - clung to the bald spot on the back of

  her yellowed skull.

  She turned slowly and stared up at me with the one eye remaining in her

  fleshless face.

  A man in a rotted black suit drifted up from his grave. He raised his

  lifeless face and opened his mouth as if tasting the wind.

  And then he stared up at me. “You’re one of us now,” he whispered. He

  flicked out his tongue, black with decay, and licked his cracked, rutted

  lips.

  “You’re a ghoul,” he whispered. “You’re a graveyard ghoul.”

  “You’re a graveyard ghoul,” the old woman repeated, scratching the back

  of her head.

  53 “Welcome!” the young man rasped. “Welcome to the world of the undead!”

  “The legend - it’s true!” I gasped. “The ghouls DO climb out of their

  graves at night! They DO float over the tombstones!”

  “Yes. The legend is true,” the old woman rasped. “At night we pace the

  graveyard. We cannot sleep.”

  “Join us, Spencer. Float over the tombstones with us! You’re one of us

  now. You’re a graveyard ghoul!” the man exclaimed.

  “I don’t want to be a ghoul!” I cried. “I don’t want to float over the

  gravestones! I want my body back!”

  “You can’t have it back,” the man whispered.

  “It’s gone,” the old woman croaked.

  “Gone. Gone,” all the ghouls chanted as they rose up from their graves.

  “Your body is gone, Spencer. You’re one of us now.”

  54 Nooooo!” I wailed. My cry rose and fell on the wind.

  The ugly, grinning ghouls ignored me. As I gaped in horror, they formed

  a circle. Bony hands grabbed bony hands. And they began to dance.

  A dance of the dead.

  As the mist faded, the shadowy figures moved in and out of the

  moonlight. Bending awkwardly, their legs shuffling stiffly. Hideous

  grins on their broken, decayed faces.

  Dancing. Dancing as I floated over them.

  And as they danced, I felt myself being drawn to them. Floating toward

  them. Floating down toward the toppled gravestone. An invisible force

  pulling me back to the open grave.

  “Nooooo!” I screamed in protest. “I don’t want to

  55 be a ghoul. I don’t want to haunt the cemetery. I want my body back.

  Tell me how to get it back!”

  The ghouls stopped their eerie dance.

  As soon as they did, I felt the force stop pulling me.

  “He wants his body back! the old woman cackled to the others.

  “It’s gone.” The man in the black suit floated out of the circle. He

  moved toward me. “I told you - your body is gone.”

  “Gone. Gone,” the other ghouls took up the chant.

  “I know it’s gone,” I shouted. “But I’m going to get it back!”

  “Gone. Gone,” the ghouls droned in hushed tones.

  “You’ll never get it back,” the man declared over the ghouls’ droning.

  “Why not?” I screamed.

  “Don’t you know who stole your body?” he asked.

  “No. I don’t.”

  The ghouls fell silent. No more chanting. They all turned toward the man

  as he spoke.

  “Oswald Manse stole your body,” he said. “You knocked over his

  tombstone. You angered him.”

  “It was an accident,” I said. “I’ll make him understand. I’ll make him

  give my body back to me.”

  “Oswald Manse will never forgive you,” the man

  56 whispered. “Oswald Manse is mean. He and his brother were filled with

  a Meanness so deep, some said they were pure EVIL.”

  “Oswald Manse and his brother burned down half this town,” the old woman

  croaked. “They set it on fire - for fun. People died. So many people …

  ” The old woman’s voice trailed off.

  “You’ll never get your body back from Oswald Manse!” the man declared.

  “Oswald is too mean to give it back!”

  “I will get it back!” I shouted. “I don’t care how mean he is! It’s my

  body - not his! There must be some way I can get it back!”

  “There is a way. Tell him. Tell him,” the old woman murmured.

  “How?” I cried. “How can I get it back? Tell me!”

  “You must discover how on your own,” the man answered.

  I tried to get the ghouls to tell me more, but they refused. They took

  up their slow dance of death.

  I stared at them, at their gaunt, lifeless faces. I floated helplessly,

  watching these shadows of death, watching their ugly, twisted bodies

  dance - and felt the tug of the force again. It began to pull me back

  down to the open grave.

  I have to get away from this graveyard! I struggled against the strange

  force. But how? How am I going to do it without a body … ?

  57 The ghouls continued their silent dance, circling the graves, kicking

  their stiff legs, hands and arms cracking, raising their skeletal grins

  to the moon.

  I felt myself being pulled down … down to the dark, cold grave.

  Then, suddenly, a strong wind picked up.

  It swept me away from the ghouls’ un
earthly pull.

  The wind carried me high over the gnarled trees and swept me with a rush

  to the ground.

  I felt myself spread over the ground, over the thick carpet of dead

  leaves. And then I heard the leaves begin to rustle and whisper.

  A soft sound at first.

  Then louder.

  A dry crackling. Moving through the leaves. Closer.

  The crackling spread. Grew. And became a roar.

  Floating in the leaves, I gazed toward the startling sound.

  Listening … listening …

  Until I saw the rats.

  They moved in a dark sea of gray, rushing in waves through the leaves

  around the gravestones. Dozens and dozens of them, skittering over the

  ground. Whipping the leaves with their scaly tails. Uttering sharp

  squeals of hunger.

  Scrawny, starving rats, searching for food.

  Sniffing at the dirt.

  Sniffing at the graves of the dead.

  58 Sniffing for prey.

  As I stared in horror, I saw a rabbit scamper out from behind a tombstone.

  The rats rushed forward.

  The rabbit rose up on its hind legs. Froze in fear.

  A tidal wave of coarse gray fur surged over the poor creature. It

  disappeared in the sea of gray.

  It happened so fast.

  The rats scattered, busily gnawing on their meal of tender, juicy meat.

  In seconds, very little was left of the rabbit. Bits of muscle. A puddle

  of blood. Bones picked clean.

  I stared at the stampeding rats, sickened at the sight.

  Sickened - and desperate.

  I stared at the rats - and knew what I had to do.

  59 The rats gathered in small clusters, busily gnawing away at their

  prey. Ripping at the last shreds of the rabbit with their chiseled teeth.

  I need a body, I told myself.

  I can’t escape this graveyard without a body.

  I am only air. I will be forced to float here forever. Or else I will be

  pulled back down into the grave.

  Can I invade a body the way the ghoul invaded mine?

  Can I take over another body?

  Underneath me, a rat stood by itself, stomach bloated and full of rabbit

  meat, its red eyes glowing in the dark.

  A wave of sickness washed over me.

  Am I really thinking of invading that rat’s body?

  60 I turned away from the creature. The thought was too frightening, too

  disgusting.

  Spencer, you have to warn your family, I realized. Oswald Manse is mean.

  Your family could be in danger. And whatever he does - you’ll be blamed.

  He’s in your body!

  Try! I instructed myself. Try to possess that rat.

  It will take you out of here. It will take you to your home.

  And then ?

  And then what?

  Let’s take it one step at a time, I decided.

  Feeling nearly frozen with fear, I turned back to the bloated rat

  beneath me.

  And dove forward.

  As I plunged down, the rat’s beady eyes jerked up as if it could see me.

  Its tail twitched.

  It turned -as if to run.

  Before it could move, I forced myself onto its head.

  I remembered how the ghoul had pressed itself down over me. Starting at

  my head, it had pushed inside. Down. Down …

  Could I do the same thing to this rat?

  I concentrated. Down … down … through its fur. Through its skin.

  Into the bloated body.

  Tight. It was so tight in here. Tight-end hot. I tried to make myself

  smaller.

  Concentrate … concentrate.

  61 I could feel the rat twisting and turning. It squirmed. And squealed

  in terror.

  It threw its head from side to side, trying to shake free of me.

  I concentrated harder. Fixed my thoughts on burrowing inside. Deeper.

  Deeper.

  The rat thrashed on the ground. It rolled violently, left and right. It

  shook its body fiercely.

  Then the body quaked in a final shudder - and the creature went limp. It

  slumped to the ground, totally still.

  I gazed around me. So hot in here. Hot and wet.

  I tried to focus. Everything was a gray blur.

  I blinked my eyes. I had eyelids. Real eyelids - attached to a real body!

  I let out a cry. “I did it! I’m INSIDE the rat! I took over the rat’s

  body!”

  I moved my legs - my four short legs.

  Yuck.

  I let out a squeal. “I don’t want to be a rat. I want to be me.”

  Don’t think about it now, I scolded myself. Don’t think about anything

  but getting home and warning everyone about the evil ghoul.

  I turned, still testing my legs.

  I took a deep breath - then took off.

  I ran through the grass. My whiskers brushed up against the tall blades.

  The grass tickled me. My stomach rubbed the dirt as I ran.

  I’m a rat! I told myself.

  62 I’m smelling the air like a rat. And seeing everything through rat

  eyes. The wind brushed through my fur. My tail trailed in the air behind

  me.

  A million strange sensations. I tried to ignore them as I scuttled over

  the grass, out through the graveyard gate.

  “Someone - help me. Help me!”

  I stopped as I heard a faint voice calling from behind me.

  Startled, I perked up my ears.

  Was someone calling out to me? Who was calling for help?

  I stared into the darkness, struggling to focus my strange new eyes.

  No one. No one there.

  So I scurried on.

  “Help me … please … ” I heard the small voice again.

  No time, I thought. I can’t go back there.

  I turned and trotted down the hill.

  What would I find when I returned home? Was Oswald Manse as mean as the

  ghouls said?

  Would I be able to figure out how to get my body back from him?

  Or was my body lost to me forever?

  63 The dry leaves scraped against my belly as I hurtled down Highgrave

  Hill toward home. My sharp claws pierced the dirt as I ran.

  Running so low to the ground felt strange. The trees, even the blades of

  grass, towered over me. I felt so small - so defenseless.

  But my sense of smell was strong. Too strong. The smell of the dirt

  stung my nostrils.

  I ran and ran.

  A night crawler poked its head up from the ground in front of me. I

  stopped to watch it.

  It slithered out of its dark hole and slowly wriggled toward me.

  My whiskers twitched as I inhaled its sweet aroma. Mmmmm. A fat, juicy worm.

  Before I could stop myself, I pounced. I sank my teeth deep into the

  worm’s rubbery skin.

  64 Its sweet juices washed over my tongue. I chewed furiously. Chewed it

  into pulp, swallowing rapidly.

  Then I licked the fur around my mouth to collect the last drop of its

  dark liquid.

  What have I done? I thought in horror. I ate a worm! And I liked it!

  With the sweet taste still in my mouth, I started to run again.

  I ran quickly, but my short rat legs didn’t cover much ground. My lungs

  burned, but I pushed harder.

  Home, home. You’re going home. I tried to cheer myself on. But what am I

  going to do when I get there? I wondered.

  How am I going to warn everyone? I’m a rat.

  Don’t think
about that now, I told myself, panting. You still have your

  brain, Spencer. You’ll figure it out when you get there.

  I scampered over a rotted log. Wet mold clung to my fur. I shook myself

  hard and kept running.

  My heart pounded. My throat burned.

  Finally, the ground leveled off. Houses came into view, rising over me

  like enormous castles.

  I stopped to catch my breath. Where am I? I wondered. Down so low, the

  houses didn’t look familiar. The blades of grass were as thick as a

  jungle. The chatter and hiss of insects were deafening.

  I scampered through backyards, staring up at

  65 the dark windows. As I ran, my stomach churned and growled.

  I’m hungry again, I realized. In fact, I’m starving.

  That big worm didn’t fill me up. I have to find food. I have to eat - now.

  The hunger felt overwhelming. It blocked out all other thoughts.

  Find food … Find food …

  I stood up on my hind legs and sniffed, my whiskers twitching.

  Yes! My nostrils filled with a strong aroma of food.

  Dropping back to all fours, I saw an overturned garbage can, silvery in

  the moonlight.

  Yes! Yes! My stomach churned harder. A thick gob of drool ran from my

  open mouth.

  I plunged through the grass and leaped into the spilled garbage. Yum!

  Big chunks of hamburger! Old hamburger, already turning green. The

  delicious odor of the rotting meat made me drool even more.

  I grabbed up a big chunk in my front paws and shoved it greedily into my

  mouth. The decaying meat slid down my tongue. I grabbed another hunk.

  A scrabbling sound made me spin around.

  I saw two red eyes in front of me. Heard a hiss of warning. Then I felt

  a hard swipe, a scratching blow across my throat.

  66 I uttered a shrill cry and staggered back.

  Another rat! Two rats. No. More!

  They swarmed over the garbage. Grabbing up chunks of the rotten meat.

  Chewing. Chewing loudly, gobs of drool running from their mouths.

  And as they hungrily devoured the meat, they circled me. Red eyes

  glowing, they moved in. Chewing, chewing the whole time, they closed in

  on me.

  And raised their claws to fight.

  67 I tried to fight them off. A shrill warning hiss burst from my

  throat. I raised my claws and thrashed the air.

  Two squealing rats jumped me, one from the front, the other from behind.

  I felt sharp teeth dig into the fur on my shoulder.

  With a squeal, I dodged under them. Pulled back hard and swiped my claws

  furiously in front of me.