Free Night of the Living Dummy by R. L. Stine Page A

of a sleeve brushing the doorframe.
    Kris pushed herself to her feet. Her legs felt shaky as she crept to the door, following the moving shadow.
    Out into the hallway. Even darker out here because there were no windows.
    Toward the stairway.
    The shadow moved more quickly now.
    Kris followed, her bare feet moving lightly over the thin carpet.
    What’s happening? What’s happening?
    She caught up to the shadowy figure on the landing. “Hey!” she called, her voice a tight whisper.
    She grabbed the shoulder and turned the figure around.
    And stared into the grinning face of Mr. Wood.

 
    19

    Mr. Wood blinked, then hissed at her, an ugly sound, a menacing sound. In the darkness of the stairwell, his painted grin became a threatening leer.
    In her fright, Kris squeezed the dummy’s shoulder, wrapping her fingers around the harsh fabric of his shirt.
    “This—this is impossible!” she whispered.
    He blinked again. He giggled. His mouth opened, making his grin grow wider.
    He tried to tug out of Kris’ grasp, but she hung on without even realizing she was holding him.
    “But—you’re a dummy!” she squealed.
    He giggled again. “So are you,” he replied. His voice was a deep growl, like the angry snarl of a large dog.
    “You can’t walk!” Kris cried, her voice trembling.
    The dummy giggled its ugly giggle again.
    “You can’t be alive!” Kris exclaimed.
    “Let go of me— now!” the dummy growled.
    Kris held on, tightening her grip. “I’m dreaming,” Kris told herself aloud. “I have to be dreaming.”
    “I’m not a dream. I’m a nightmare!” the dummy exclaimed, and tossed back his wooden head, laughing.
    Still gripping the shoulder of the shirt, Kris stared through the darkness at the grinning face. The air seemed to grow heavy and hot. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe, as if she were suffocating.
    What was that sound?
    It took her a while to recognize the strained gasps of her own breathing.
    “Let go of me,” the dummy repeated. “Or I’ll throw you down the stairs.” He tried once again to tug out of her grasp.
    “No!” Kris insisted, holding tight. “I—I’m putting you back in the closet.”
    The dummy laughed, then pushed his painted face close to Kris’ face. “You can’t keep me there.”
    “I’m locking you in. I’m locking you in a box. In something !” Kris declared, panic clouding her thoughts.
    The darkness seemed to descend over her, choking her, weighing her down.
    “Let go of me.” The dummy pulled hard.
    Kris reached out her other hand and grabbed him around the waist.
    “Let go of me,” he snarled in his raspy, deep rumble of a voice. “I’m in charge now. You will listen to me. This is my house now.”
    He pulled hard.
    Kris encircled his waist.
    They both fell onto the stairs, rolling down a few steps.
    “Let go!” the dummy ordered. He rolled on top of her, his wild eyes glaring into hers.
    She pushed him off, tried to pin his arms behind his back.
    He was surprisingly strong. He pulled back one arm, then shoved a fist hard into the pit of her stomach.
    “Ohhh.” Kris groaned, feeling the breath knocked out of her.
    The dummy took advantage of her momentary weakness, and pulled free. Grasping the banister with one hand, he tried to pull himself past her and down the stairs.
    But Kris shot out a foot and tripped him.
    Still struggling to breathe, she pounced onto his back. Then she pulled him away from the banister and pushed him down hard onto a step.
    “Oh!” Kris gasped loudly as the overhead hall light flashed on. She closed her eyes against the sudden harsh intrusion. The dummy struggled to pull out from under her, but she pushed down on his back with all her weight.
    “Kris—what on earth—?!” Lindy’s startled voice called down from the top step.
    “It’s Mr. Wood!” Kris managed to cry up to her. “He’s… alive !” She pushed down hard, sprawled over the dummy, keeping him pinned beneath her.
    “Kris—what are you