Free R. L. Stine_Mostly Ghostly 03 by One Night in Doom House Page B

quivering bare trees.
    No sign of Mr. Morgo, at least. But what would I find inside? Were Nicky and Tara still here?
    I slipped on a patch of ice. Caught my balance. Then, breathing hard, crunched my way along the side of the house.
    Squinting in the darkness, I saw a low window near the back. The glass had been broken out. I stopped when I heard voices inside.
    My heart started to pound. Sliding my boots over the snow, trying not to make a sound, I crept up to the window. Moving slowly, carefully, I peeked into the house—and let out a gasp of horror.
    Ghosts—at least a dozen of them.
    I saw a young boy with his eyes missing and a gaping hole where his nose should be. His lips flapped as he made a crazy jabbering sound.
    He floated beside an old woman in a long, tattered gray dress. She was bald—and I saw long brown worms crawling over her scalp in place of hair.
    One ghost had his head tossed back. His face was rutted with deep red scars. His yellow eyes rolled wildly as he stared at the ceiling, and he laughed at the top of his lungs, laughed without stopping.
    Two young girl ghosts floated beside him. Theyhad clumps of dirt clinging to their clothes. When they raised their arms, I saw that the skin had rotted off their hands. Their bony fingers cracked loudly as they balled them into fists.
    And in the middle of these ugly ghosts … trapped in the middle … I saw my two frightened friends, Nicky and Tara.

27
    TARA GRIPPED NICKY'S ARM tightly. They both were trembling with fright. The ugly ghosts floated in a line now, laughing and hissing, whispering and jabbering. They backed Nicky and Tara up against a wall.
    Flickering candles provided the only light. As I stared through the window, the ghosts appeared to fade in and out of the dancing shadows.
    A tall, frail-looking ghost in overalls and a torn flannel shirt scratched his peeling scalp. His eyes glowed red in the candlelight, and he gave Nicky and Tara a cold, toothless smile.
    Another ghost had half his face missing, the skull poking through on his left side.
    I leaned on the windowsill and stared in through the broken window. I saw two bearded, scarred, scowling ghosts hold up two silver life pods.
    Nicky and Tara glanced frantically around the room. I knew they were searching for a way to escape. But they were backed against the wall, and the ghosts pressed closer and closer.
    “We’ll keep you two inside these life pods for a while,” a deep voice said.
    And then I saw Mr. Morgo appear in the middle of the line of ghosts. His dark coat swirled around him. His hat was pulled low over his blond hair.
    The bearded ghosts raised the life pods out toward Nicky and Tara.
    “Let us go!” Tara cried in a high, trembling voice. “We can’t help you.”
    “We’re telling the truth!” Nicky shouted.
    Morgo shook his head. “You’ll be very comfortable inside a pod. Your parents kept
us
inside them—until Phears came along and stole the pods and set us all free.”
    He floated closer to Nicky and Tara. “Have you had the pleasure of meeting Phears?”
    Nicky and Tara didn’t answer. They both stared in horror at the life pods, shimmering in the flickering light.
    “Why not make it easy on yourselves?” Morgo said. “Tell us where your parents are, and we’ll let you go.”
    “We
told
you!” Tara cried. “We don’t know. I swear!”
    “We came here to ask you,” Nicky added. “We hoped that
you
could help us find them.”
    The ghosts all laughed—chilling hoarse laughs that sounded like coughing.
    Morgo was the only one who didn’t laugh. He kept his icy blue-eyed stare on my two friends. “Well, why don’t we just keep you snug and safe in one of these pods,” he said. “And we’ll all wait for your parents to come looking for you.”
    “No, please—” Tara begged.
    “We can’t help you. Really,” Nicky said. “Don’t make us go inside those things.”
    Morgo didn’t reply. He nodded to one of the bearded ghosts. The ghost