Free The First Horror by R. L. Stine Page A

out of the room, heading down the hall to the attic stairs. Cally was right behind her. “Daddy—are you okay?” she shouted up the stairs. Silence. “Daddy?” Cally stared up the steep, dark stairs. Then she turned to Kody, her eyes wide with fright. “Why doesn’t he answer?”

Chapter 15
    “Daddy—are you all right? Can you hear me?” Cally’s thin voice echoed up the steep stairs. She breathed a loud sigh of relief as her father appeared at the top of the stairs. Pressing his hands against the walls on both sides, he came down slowly, one step at a time. When he stepped into the light, Cally saw that his expression was dazed and confused. “Daddy?” she started to say, taking his hand. It was as cold as ice. “Heads,” he murmured, trembling all over. He blinked several times as if trying to blink away what he had seen up there. “Huh? What did you see up there?” Mrs. Frasier demanded from the bedroom doorway. “H-heads,” Mr. Frasier stammered, his eyes dancing wildly. “Three human heads. A woman—two children. No! No!” He let out a wailing sob. With a shudder, Cally glanced up the attic stairs. “No!” her father screamed. “Don’t look! Don’t go up there! So much blood … the heads … the poor heads. Call the police! Hurry! Somebody—call the police!”
    After the police officers finished their search, Cally showered for nearly half an hour. But no matter how much she scrubbed, the sour smell clung to her. Why couldn’t the police find anything in the attic? Cally wondered. Why couldn’t they explain the bloodstains on the bedroom ceiling? A doctor had been called. He gave Mr. Frasier something to calm him and help him sleep. Poor Daddy, Cally thought. When the doctor left, Cally’s mother had also taken a long shower, trying to wash away the dark, caked blood.
    The two sisters and their mother worked for hours to clean the disgusting green liquid off the sink and bathroom floor. When they finished, they all showered again. Pulling a robe over a fresh nightshirt, Cally made her way downstairs to get a cold drink. The kitchen clock revealed that it was nearly five in the morning. Cally could hear her mother in the den with James, speaking in low, soothing tones, trying to calm the poor boy. Cally listened for Cubby’s barking. But all she could hear now was the hum of the refrigerator and her mother’s low voice from the den. As she poured herself a glass of orange juice, Kody wearily entered the kitchen. “It’s a little early for breakfast,” she groaned. “But pour me a glass too.” Cally still felt shaky. She nearly dropped the glass as she handed it to her sister. “Now maybe you’ll believe me about this place,” Kody said, her green eyes locked on Cally’s. Cally felt a cold chill run down her back. She nodded solemnly, unable to hide her fear. “Yeah. Maybe I will,” she whispered. “But, Kody- -what can we do?”
    “I’m going to talk to Mr. Lurie,” Cally’s father said. “He had to know about the weird problems with this house! If he refuses to make everything right, I’m going to demand our money back and ask him to tear up the mortgage!” It was a little after ten now. The family was sitting around the kitchen table, yawning, resting their heads in their hands, trying to choke down toast and tea. Only Mr. Frasier had slept, thanks to the doctor’s medication. The others had been too frightened to return to their rooms, and Mr. Frasier had stretched out on the couch in the den. Cally stared across the table at her father. His eyes still darted around rapidly, and he was breathing hard. He talked quickly in a breathless voice Cally had never heard him use before. He kept muttering crazily about the three heads and the police. He should lie down, Cally thought, worried. He isn’t really making sense. He isn’t ready to be up. Cally had called the boutique and explained that she couldn’t go in to work. Luckily, the inventory hadn’t been completed,