Free Phantom of the Auditorium by R. L. Stine Page B

“He’ll
hear
you!”
    “But we
want
to find him,” Zeke reminded Brian.
    I sneezed seven times. Then one more for good luck. Finally, I was all sneezed out.
    “He heard that. I
know
he did,” Brian fretted. His eyes darted around in fear.
    The door slammed shut.
    “Nooo!” We all jumped and cried out.
    My heart leaped to my mouth. Every muscle in my body tied itself into a knot.
    We turned to stare at the door. Someone had closed it, I knew. It hadn’t been blown shut by any wind.Zeke was the first to move. Lowering his flashlight, he hurtled to the door. He grabbed the knob and pushed hard.
    The door didn’t budge.
    Zeke lowered his shoulder against the door. Twisting the knob, he pushed again.
    Still no success.
    He banged his shoulder against the door. Pushed again. Strained against the door with all his weight.
    When he turned back to us, his face revealed his fear for the first time. “We — we’re locked in,” he said softly.

21
    I rushed up beside Zeke. “Maybe if all three of us try,” I suggested.
    “Maybe,” Zeke replied. But I could see he didn’t have much hope.
    I swallowed hard. Seeing Zeke so frightened made me even
more
frightened.
    “Yeah. Let’s all push together,” Brian agreed, stepping up beside me. “We can
break
the door down if we have to.”
    Way to go, Brian!
I thought.
He’s finally showing some spirit.
    We lined up against the door and prepared to push.
    I took a deep breath and held it. I was trying to calm myself down. My arms and legs felt as if they were made of chewing gum.
    This is just so scary,
I realized.
If we are locked in this tiny room and can’t get out, we could be here for the rest of our lives. We are miles and miles away from the rest of the world.
    Everyone will search and search up above. And they’ll never find us. And even if we yell and scream at the tops of our lungs for help, there’s no way anyone could hear us.
    We’ll be trapped here forever.
    I took another deep breath. “Okay, on the count of three,” I said. “On three, everybody push.”
    Zeke started to count. “One … two …”
    “Whoa! Wait a minute!” I interrupted. I stared at the door. “We pushed the door to get in here — right?”
    “Yeah, I guess,” Zeke replied, staring hard at me.
    “So it won’t
push
open from the inside,” I said. “We have to
pull
it open.”
    “Hey — you’re right!” Zeke cried.
    I grabbed the knob, twisted it, and pulled hard.
    The door slid open easily.
    And there was a man standing in the doorway.
    My flashlight moved up to his face. I recognized him instantly.
    Emile. The little white-haired man who said he was the night janitor.
    He blocked the doorway and glared in at us, an ugly, menacing scowl on his scarred face.

22
    “Let us go!” I shrieked.
    He didn’t move. His strange gray eyes moved from Zeke to Brian to me.
    “You have to let us out of here!” I insisted. And then I added meekly, “Please?”
    His scowl grew even angrier. The light from the flashlight made the long scar on his cheek look even deeper.
    He didn’t budge from the doorway. “Why are you down here?” he demanded in his hoarse whisper of a voice. “Why are you in my home?” “So — you
are
the Phantom!” I blurted out. He narrowed his eyes at me in surprise. “Phantom?” His expression turned thoughtful. “I guess you could call me that.” Brian uttered a low cry. “This is my home sweet home,” the man said angrily. “Why are you here? Why didn’t you listen to my warnings?”
    “Your warnings?” I asked. I was shaking so hard, the light from my flashlight was dancing all over the wall.
    “I did everything I could to keep you away,” the Phantom said. “To keep you from my home.”
    “You mean the paint on the backdrop? Swinging down from the catwalk? The scary mask in my locker with the note?” I cried in astonishment.
    The Phantom nodded. “I tried to warn you. I didn’t want to hurt anyone. But I had to protect my