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

week before. And nothing strange or frightening had happened in the house since then. No need to scare Abbie, Brandt decided. No need to make her think I’m some kind of paranoid nutcase. She followed him inside. Brandt stepped into the kitchen to give the newspaper to his mother. She was washing the breakfast dishes. He found Abbie in the living room, staring at his father’s wall of old weapons. “What’s all this stuff?” she asked. “It’s so strange and primitive looking.” “This is my dad’s collection of arms and armor,” Brandt explained. “He’s really into old tribal weapons and stuff.” “How did he get it all?” Abbie asked. She stared at the thin, feathered darts in fascination. “Did he buy them?” “No. We lived on a remote island in the Pacific for a couple of years,” Brandt told her. “The people there were into weird stuff. They had all kinds of bizarre customs and ceremonies.” “Like what?” Abbie asked. Brandt paused, remembering. “Well, they used a lot of weird herbs to mix love potions and things like that. They believed in spirits and ghosts.” “Wow,” Abbie said. “It must have been cool to live there.”
    “It was interesting,” Brandt admitted. “But it was difficult too. They thought differently from us. Like, they believed every animal and person has two spirits, not just one.” “You mean like split personalities?” “No,” Brandt explained. “One spirit is your personality. It’s what makes you different from other people. And the other spirit is a sort of life force that keeps you alive. That’s why they sacrifice animals and drink the blood.” “I don’t get it,” Abbie said. “They think the blood contains the animal’s life force—and if they drink it, their own life force will get stronger.” “And what happens to the other spirit—the personality spirit?” Abbie asked. “That becomes your ghost. Your personality spirit can haunt people if it wants to.” Abbie stared at the wall thoughtfully. “Did you ever see a ghost while you were there?” she asked. “No,” Brandt replied. “No, I never did.” Abbie stepped closer to the wall, examining a spear. Brandt heard the telephone ring in the kitchen. A moment later his mother called, “Brandt! Phone!” “I’ll be right back,” he told Abbie. He hurried into the kitchen. His mother handed him the phone and stepped away, wiping down a counter. “Hello?” “Hi, Brandt. It’s Jinny.” Brandt couldn’t hide his surprise. “Jinny—hi!” he exclaimed. “I haven’t talked to you all week. I thought maybe—” Brandt didn’t get to finish his sentence. A loud, clattering crash from the living room interrupted him. He dropped the phone receiver when he heard the chilling scream. Abbie’s scream.

Chapter 20
    Abbie’s screams rose shrilly. Brandt cried out in surprise and raced out of the kitchen. “Abbie?” He found her on the floor, pinned under the heavy suit of armor. “Help me!” Abbie cried. “I can’t move!” “Oh, my goodness!” Mrs. McCloy cried, right behind Brandt. “How did this happen?” Brandt struggled to lift the metal suit off Abbie. “It—it won’t budge!” he stammered. Abbie moaned and tried to move one of her arms. “Hurry,” she pleaded. “I can’t breathe. It’s so heavy.” Brandt struggled to lift the armor. His mother stepped to the other side and bent to help. They managed to move it just enough for Abbie to wriggle out from under it. “Are you all right?” Brandt asked. “Does anything feel broken?” Abbie remained seated on the floor, her expression dazed. She rubbed her arm. “It—it just flew off the wall,” she murmured. “I was looking at it- -and it flew off the wall. It didn’t just fall, Brandt. It flew!” “It was hanging very securely,” Mrs. McCloy said, puzzled. “I know we checked the hooks three times. Nothing like this has happened before.”
    Brandt helped Abbie to her feet. He led her to the couch.