Free House of a Thousand Screams by R.L. Stine Page A

whispered.
    â€œWho knows? It’s smart,” I pointed out. “It’s probably planning some kind of strategy. Here, help me move this chair away from the table.”
    We got me positioned with a straight shot at the door. I wanted to be the first thing it saw when it came through. If I could just get close enough to grab it . . .
    Then I could make sure Freddy had the time to get away.
    The seconds ticked by in silence.
    Suddenly I heard a frantic clatter of talons on wood.
    An instant later a ball of greasy blue fur shot through the door.
    The monster! It tore straight at me.
    I snatched the knife off the table. “Run, Freddy!” I shouted.
    The creature hit me full in the chest. I fell backward, chair and all, to the floor.
    Freddy streaked out of the kitchen.
    The monster clawed at my arms and head. I swiped at it with the knife. Snarling, it walloped my hand.
    â€œOw!” I howled with pain. The knife flew out of my grasp and clattered across the floor.
    What now? I was so scared, I didn’t even think. I just hauled off and punched the monster in its furry blue stomach.
    It gagged. And the little zebra-striped man came popping out of its mouth!
    The poor little guy was covered in slime. You could barely make out his stripes. But he was alive and well! He fled across the floor.
    â€œGo on, little guy!” I yelled.
    I punched the monster again.
    â€œGNNNNNARRR!” it howled. Clawed fingers snatched for my eyes. I pulled back.
    But not fast enough. The monster’s claws ripped the glasses right off my face.
    In despair I watched them fly across the room. They hit the wall. And shattered into a zillion pieces.
    â€œNo!” I shouted. “No! No!”
    Without the glasses I couldn’t see the monster. It could be anywhere. Sneaking up behind me.
    I was finished!

19

    W ithout the glasses I was blind! Where was the monster?
    I could hear its claws on the kitchen tile. Closer. Closer. It seemed to be taking its time. Making me sweat.
    Frantic, I scooted over to the kitchen counter. I grabbed one of the cabinet door pulls and tried to haul myself up.
    I felt a whoosh. Eau de garbage filled my nostrils. The monster must have leapt past me to the countertop.
    Something sticky and repulsive swept over my cheek. The thing was licking me! I screeched with terror and leapt nearly all the way across the room. Bad leg and all!
    I huddled against the far wall, frantically rubbing at the gunk the monster’s slimy tongue had left on my face. I gagged at the feel of it. Cold and slimy. And it really reeked.
    I heard the monster skittering across the countertop. A drawer opened. And a shish-kebab skewer rose into the air.
    It hovered for a minute, then arrowed through the air. Straight at me! I yelled and shut my eyes.
    Thoink!
    Was I a shish kebab? I didn’t feel any pain. Cautiously, I opened my eyes and looked to the right, where the sound had come from.
    The skewer had pinned my shirtsleeve to the wall.
    I yanked my shirt free. The monster is playing with me, I thought. It’s enjoying itself. Like a cat playing with a mouse. Only I’m the mouse!
    I climbed painfully to my feet. Where was the vicious thing? I couldn’t hear its clattering claws anymore.
    I eyed the doorway. Maybe I could get away! I lunged for it.
    Invisible claws raked across my ankle. I stumbled and cracked my chin on the tile floor. Tears of pain rose in my eyes.
    Invisible hands grabbed my ankles and dragged me, screaming, back to the sink. The monster was so strong!
    And then I heard it smack its lips.
    I scrambled to my feet. Greasy, ropy arms wrapped around my knees, trying to drag me down. I scanned the counter desperately. There must be something I could use as a weapon.
    My gaze fell on the flour canister. A picture flashed through my mind. Tiny tracks in the powder on my dresser.
    I had an idea.
    It could work only if Mom had refilled the flour canister since the pie-making