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  My breath caught in my throat. This can’t be happening.

  I spun around, grabbed the sides of Brad’s mask, and pulled up hard.

  A few kids were shouting and screaming. Most of them just stood frozen in shocked silence.

  Finally, Brad and Marcus both started to laugh.

  “Gotcha!” Marcus shouted. “Did you really believe us?”

  Brad slid off his mask. He tossed it into the crowd of kids. “You guys are too easy to fool!” he declared.

  Brad and Marcus bumped knuckles and slapped each other high-fives.

  “Just a joke,” Polly’s mom announced, as if everyone didn’t already get it. “What a hilarious Halloween joke. You certainly got everyone’s attention.”

  Marcus and Brad were smiling at me. “Success!” Marcus exclaimed. “We shook up this party.”

  “We have to tell you all about the real ghost,” Brad said.

  “Yeah, sure,” someone groaned. “Like we’re going to believe you now.”

  The voices faded into the background. I suddenly felt a little scared.

  I could feel my mask moving. Kind of changing.

  A heavy feeling of dread formed in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t want to believe it, but the mask was growing warmer and warmer. And I could feel it shrinking, tightening to my face.

  Brad and Marcus had pulled a joke about how their masks wouldn’t come off. But this was no joke. This was really happening to me.

  I reached my hands up to my neck and searched for the bottom of the mask. I knew I couldn’t tug it off from the top. I had to grab the bottom and slide it up. Pull the mask off from the bottom.

  But, wait. No. Oh, please, no.

  My hands fumbled at my neck. I slid them up, then down, then back up.

  Where was the bottom of the mask?

  I couldn’t find the place where the mask ended and my skin began.

  The mask has melted itself to my skin.

  My hands were shaking like crazy now. My panic was making my whole body shake.

  I felt the mask tighten some more. It was alive. Yes. The old mask was alive.

  I felt it moving, warming up, stretching itself, melting to my skin.

  “HELP ME!” The scream burst from my throat.

  I pulled and strained frantically at the mask. But it was no longer a mask. It was attached to me. It was part of me.

  “Help me! I really need help! The mask — it’s melted to my face!”

  Brad and Marcus burst out laughing.

  Other kids started to laugh. Everyone stared at me, smiling, laughing, joking.

  “No — really!” I wailed. “I really need help! This old mask — it … it’s ALIVE!”

  More laughter.

  “Oh, please, Lu-Ann,” Polly’s mom said, chuckling and shaking her head. “The boys already pulled that joke. Take off the mask and come join everyone.”

  “I can’t!” I screamed. My voice sounded tinny, hoarse inside the mask. It wasn’t my voice at all. Somehow, even my voice had become ugly, monstrous.

  “I can’t take it off!” I wailed again. “Please — I’m not joking! Somebody help me!”

  I gripped it with both hands and pulled with all my might.

  Kids laughed. Marcus and Brad were laughing, too.

  And suddenly, my fear gave way to something else. Suddenly, I was no longer terrified.

  Now I was angry. Now a burning, furious anger swept over me.

  I felt about to blow up. Yes. Explode. Explode in screaming anger.

  What am I going to do? I’ve never felt anything like this in my life!

  I balled my hands into tight fists. I clenched my jaw. I felt every muscle in my body tense — so hard I could barely breathe.

  As my anger boiled, I made one last attempt to pull off the mask. I tore at it. Scraped it with my nails. Ripped my fingers at the eyeholes.

  But there were no eyeholes. There was no mask. It was my face now. The hideous, sharp-toothed, green scaly face was my face.

  I couldn’t hold myself in any longer. I felt it erupt inside me. My body churned — as if I were vomiting my anger!

  An animal roar burst from deep down. A terrifying, menacing bellow of horror. So loud and furious, it even frightened me.

  But I couldn’t stop the anger. I lost myself. Lost Lu-Ann. Lost myself in the boiling sea of anger. Sank into it. Sank deep into the red, blinding red of my hate and fury.

  I raised my eyes to the costumed kids in Polly’s living room. They were still laughing. The idiots. The stupid jerks. They thought I was putting on some kind of show.

  I’ll show them it isn’t pretend.

  I attacked. I leaped over the banister and landed on a boy in a mummy costume. We both toppled to the floor. I wrapped my hands around his throat and squeezed until he squeaked.

  Then I jumped to my feet. I lowered my shoulder and ran into a couple of girls. They fell backward and slammed into a wall.

  I tossed back my head and let out another furious roar.

  Kids weren’t laughing anymore. Now they were screaming. Now they were backing away in fright.

  Ha.

  I leaped up and ripped streamers off the ceiling. I knocked over a table and sent a lamp crashing to the floor. “Stop! Stop! Lu-Ann — stop!” I heard Mrs. Martin screaming.

  I grabbed a pumpkin pie off the food table and smashed it in her face. Then I hoisted up the food table in both hands and tipped it on its side.

  All the food and drinks slid to the floor. The punch bowl shattered into a million pieces, sending the orange drink pooling over the carpet.

  Kids screamed in terror. I saw a couple of girls run out the front door.

  Polly had a phone to her ear. Was she calling the police?

  I didn’t care. I couldn’t control myself. Couldn’t control my red rage.

  I ripped a painting off the wall and smashed its glass frame against the banister.

  Kids shrieked and screamed.

  I loved it!

  Polly’s mom was still wiping pie off her face. I heaved a vase at the wall. She spun toward me and sprang forward, trying to tackle me.

  With a cry, I dodged past her outstretched arms. I took a flying leap and dove right through the living-room window.

  Glass shattered and crashed all around me.

  I landed on my knees. Then I climbed quickly to my feet. And took off, roaring down the street, screaming like a crazed animal.

  The cool night air felt good on my hot face. I was panting hard, my chest heaving up and down.

  I ran to the street. Stopped at the bottom of Polly’s driveway. And ripped the mailbox off its pole. I threw it at the house.

  My shoes slapped the pavement as I ran along the sidewalk. I knew I should stop running. I knew I should try to fight this anger.

  But it was too powerful. I wasn’t strong enough to battle it.

  I felt sooooo ANGRY.

  I saw three little kids trick-or-treating at a brightly decorated house across the street. I waited till they were halfway down the front lawn. Then I ran up to them, roaring.

  I grabbed their candy bags and ripped them to pieces. Candy went flying over the grass. Two of the kids started to cry.

  That made me laugh.

  I tipped over a bike in the next driveway. I bent down, grabbed a sprinkler hose — and ripped the hose in two with my bare hands. Water went gushing over the lawn.

  What next? What next?

  I turned the corner and ran, searching for more trick-or-treaters to scare.

  I slowed down when I heard sounds behind me. Heavy footsteps on the pavement. I heard a shout.

  Who was coming after me?

  I spun around — and saw Marcus and Brad running fast.

  “Lu-Ann — wait up! Lu-Ann!” Marcus called breathlessly.

  “Stop! We want to help you!” Brad cried.

  “Help me?” I grunted in a raspy voice that wasn’t mine. “You want to help me? Here’s what I think about your help!”
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  I grabbed Brad and sank my teeth into his shoulder.

  He screamed, more in surprise than in pain.

  I laughed and let him go. I could feel thick drool running down my chin. I slid my fangs together, grinding them, preparing to bite again.

  “Lu-Ann — just stop,” Marcus said, motioning me back with both hands. “You need help.”

  “You’ll need help when I’m finished with you,” I snarled. I raised both hands and curled them like claws, ready to scratch their eyes out.

  What am I doing?

  These are my FRIENDS.

  “Lu-Ann — let us help you,” Marcus said.

  Brad rubbed his shoulder where I had bitten him. “We’ll take you home,” he said. “Your parents can call a doctor.”

  I tossed back my head and roared in reply.

  The sound frightened them. They both took a step back.

  “Is it the mask?” Brad asked. “Is the mask making you do these things?”

  “We’ll help you take it off,” Marcus said. His voice trembled.

  “It can’t come off,” I growled. “It’s my face now.” I took a step toward them, curled hands still raised. “What’s the matter? It’s not pretty enough for you?”

  They glanced at each other and didn’t reply. I could see they were terrified.

  Should I bite them again?

  No. This was getting boring. I needed more excitement. After all, it was Halloween night. And I had more anger to burn, more damage to do.

  “Lu-Ann, please —” Marcus held his hand out to me. “Let us take you home.”

  I slapped his hand away, spun around, and took off. I ran through three front yards, then an empty lot.

  I turned back. Were they following me? No.

  They had given up.

  Great friends. I should have bitten them both.

  I turned a corner and kept running. My chest was burning, but I felt as if I could run forever.

  Run and roar forever.

  The houses ended, and I saw a row of small shops across the street. They were all dark except for the store at the end.

  As I crossed the street, I read the neon sign over the door. MASKS & MORE.

  The front window was brightly lit with rows of ugly masks on display. A sign read: MEXICAN DAY OF THE DEAD MASKS.

  Marcus’s dad’s store. Mr. Wright. This had to be his Halloween store.

  I stopped and stared into the window.

  Mr. Wright has studied old masks. He is an expert on old masks.

  Maybe he can help me. Maybe he can help me get this mask off.

  He HAS to help me!

  I grabbed the door handle so hard, I ripped it off the door. With a low growl, I tossed it aside. Then I went roaring into the store.

  It was a tiny shop with costumes hanging from metal racks, jammed on both sides of the narrow aisle. A jungle of costumes stretching into the aisle.

  Masks were hung side by side on three walls, nearly from floor to ceiling. Dozens and dozens of animal masks and monster masks and funny masks and scary masks. A glass display case held all kinds of shiny badges, belts, tiaras, and wands.

  There was barely room to walk. The lights were dim, casting strange shadows over the rows of empty-eyed masks. I squinted to the back of the store. No sign of Mr. Wright.

  I let out a rasping roar. “Anybody here?”

  Costumes scraped against one another as if they were alive. Masks grinned down at me.

  “Anybody here? Mr. Wright?”

  He appeared from behind a pile of red and black costumes in the back. He was carrying a skeleton mask in one hand and a can of Coke in the other.

  Startled, he dropped the soda can when he saw me. It clanged to the floor and Coke spilled over his shoes.

  Mr. Wright is a big man, tall and wide and nearly bald. He wears thick, black-rimmed glasses that are always falling down his nose. He was dressed in dark denim jeans and a white turtleneck sweater under an open brown sports jacket.

  He bent to pick up the Coke can. Then he stood and stared at me. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Wright, it’s me, Lu-Ann,” I growled. “Help me. I need your help!”

  He squinted through his glasses at the mask over my face. “Who are you? What did you say?”

  I glimpsed myself in the mirror beside him. My face was green, the skin cracked and lined like lizard skin. My eyes were huge and bloodred. My two rows of fangs poked from my open mouth with drool running down my chin.

  “Help me — please. Can you help me?”

  He didn’t say a word. He stood there staring hard at me. Studying my face. Studying the mask.

  After a long while, he raised his big hand and pointed at me. “Get out!” he boomed. “Get out of here! Out of my store — now! You’re evil! Evil!”

  “No, Mr. Wright,” I begged in my ugly, rasping voice. “It’s me — Lu-Ann.”

  “Out!” he screamed. He took a step toward me, still waving his finger in the air. “Out! Out of my store!”

  “BUT I NEED HELP!” I roared.

  My rage took over. I started grabbing masks off the wall and ripping them in half with my bare hands. I knocked over two racks of costumes. I smashed my fist through the glass display case.

  Mr. Wright came charging at me. He had his big arms spread wide to grab me. “Out! Out of here!”

  I had no choice. I leaped over the costumes I had spilled into the aisle. And I took off running. Back onto the street.

  Mr. Wright filled the doorway to the shop. He shook his fist at me. “Go away! Go away! I don’t want your evil near me.”

  “It’s me!” I screamed. “Lu-Ann! Please — listen to me. Your son Marcus is my good friend. You know me. I am Lu-Ann. Really. Can’t you help me get this mask off?”

  I couldn’t see his face. He was a big shadow with the store light shining behind him. “Maybe you used to be Lu-Ann,” he shouted. “But now you are the Haunted Mask. And I know all about the evil you bring.”

  “No. It’s still me!” I insisted. “I’m still Lu-Ann. Please, help me. How … how do I take this mask off?”

  “Do you really want me to tell you how to remove the Haunted Mask — or is this some kind of trick?”

  “No. It’s not a trick,” I said. “Please tell me.” A gob of drool ran down my chin and spattered the pavement at my feet. “What do you know about this mask? How do I take it off?” I grunted. “Tell me how to take it off.” I tugged at the sides of my face, tugged the soft, warm, scaly green skin.

  He stood there for a long moment, arms crossed, blocking the doorway.

  “The Haunted Mask cannot be taken off,” he said.

  Can’t be taken off?

  I stared at him for a moment. Then I raised both fists above my head and let out a furious wail.

  He backed into his shop. “I’ve read a lot about the Haunted Mask. It was given to a shop owner named William. The day he got it, he and the mask disappeared and were never seen again. According to legend, the mask cannot be taken off — unless …”

  “Unless?” I croaked.

  “Only an act of unbelievable kindness can remove it,” he said. “That’s all I know. Now go away. Go and take your evil with you.” He slammed the door to the shop.

  “Kindness? You want kindness?” I cried. “I’ll show you kindness.”

  I picked up a big stone from the street and heaved it at his shop door. It made a loud thunk, then bounced off.

  Then I ran down the row of darkened shops, breaking windows, laughing like a crazed hyena … laughing … laughing and shattering glass … running full speed down the empty street.

  I was a prisoner of the Haunted Mask, a prisoner of its evil.

  But under all the anger and rage, I was still Lu-Ann. Still frightened, terrified Lu-Ann.

  What’s going to happen to me? I wondered. How evil am I going to get?

  I couldn’t stop. I smashed the window of the last store on the block and kept running. A burglar alarm clanged in one of the stores.
And somewhere in the distance, I heard a siren approaching.

  I darted across the street and ran into the darkness of a small, heavily wooded park. Running beneath the trees, I struggled to think. Struggled to think like Lu-Ann.

  An act of kindness.

  I have to fight the power of the mask and do an act of kindness.

  The only way to free myself …

  The mask fought back. It tried to drown out these thoughts with thoughts of evil, of hurting people, of smashing and wrecking everything in my path.

  Those angry feelings were overpowering. I couldn’t control them. And when I saw the little girl sitting on the curb, I felt the anger bubble up in me, and I knew she was in big trouble.

  From me.

  She was dressed in a princess costume. But her sparkly tiara lay on the ground next to her. She had her head in her hands. Under the street-light, I saw her dark hair bobbing up and down, and I knew she was crying.

  I opened my mouth to roar, to terrify her.

  But somehow I choked it back. And I dropped down beside her on the curb.

  It took her a while to notice me. Finally, she raised her head, sniffling, and wiped tears off her cheeks.

  “What’s wrong?” I whispered.

  “Lost,” she replied in a trembling voice.

  “You’re lost?”

  She nodded, still wiping away tears. She had her eyes down. She hadn’t seen my hideous face yet.

  “I was with all these kids. But I can’t find them now. I don’t know where they went.”

  “And you don’t know how to get home?”

  “No. I’m lost.” Her shoulders quivered. More tears poured from her big, dark eyes.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll help you,” I said softly in my hoarse, raspy voice. “I’ll take you home. No problem.”

  Her eyes went wide. “You will?”

  “Yes.”

  An act of kindness.

  An act of kindness to get rid of this evil mask.

  “Thank you,” she said in a tiny voice. And then she turned to me.

  She looked at me for the first time.

  Her smile vanished, and her mouth trembled, then opened wide in a scream of horror.

  “You’re so UGLY!” she shrieked. She jumped to her feet. She tried to run. But she wasn’t fast enough.