Free The Conclusion by R.L. Stine

him?
    I couldn’t go back to that school. I couldn’t bear the staring eyes, the grinning faces.
    Everyone knew. Everyone.
    I stayed home the entire next week. I stayed in my room, crying and thinking. Thinking about how much I hated everyone in the world. Especially myself.
    Luckily, I had Eden, Jasmine, and Angel. They stayed with me. They talked with me night and day. They were such good friends.
    They tried to comfort me. They tried to tell me to be strong, to go back to that high school and pretend that nothing had happened.
    But I couldn’t do that. My heart was broken. And I felt so . . . stupid and ashamed.
    And then Darryl appeared.
    Darryl was so wonderful. A boy I could trust.
    Darryl really cared about me. He asked me out. He asked me to go driving around with him.
    Darryl understood me right from the start. He knew all about Mark’s joke. He agreed that Mark was a sick creep.
    I felt so good cruising around Shadyside in my car with Darryl at the wheel. So relaxed. So comfortable and happy.
    We saw Mark walking on Park Drive, two or three blocks from the high school. Darryl tensed and leaned forward. He gripped the steering wheel with both hands.
    He waited for Mark to start across the street.
    Then he jammed his foot down on the gas pedal—and shot the car into Mark.
    Mark never knew what hit him.
    The front of the car slammed into Mark’s side and sent him flying. His arms and legs flew out. He hitthe pavement on his face and stomach. And bounced a couple of times.
    I’ll never forget the feel of the bump under our tires as Darryl drove the car over Mark’s body.
    First the front tires bounced, then the back.
    Then Darryl shot the car into reverse—and backed over Mark. Bump. Bump.
    And then we rolled over Mark again. Bump. Bump.
    Then we backed over him again. Bump. Bump.
    Then we zoomed away, squealing with laughter, laughing till tears rolled down our cheeks.
    What a day. What a memory . . .
    I blinked a few times, blinking my thoughts away. I gazed around the dark living room of the abandoned sorority house, and realized that Darryl had vanished.
    Has he left for good? I wondered.
    I didn’t think so. Darryl was impossible to control. Impossible.
    Melanie and her roommates in Fear Hall said I was crazy, I remembered. That’s what they told the police.
    But I’m not crazy.
    I need my friends. My good friends. Friends who will never leave me, never leave me alone.
    I hugged myself tightly, feeling a deep chill. The room seemed to grow darker as my eyes wandered around it.
    What will Darryl do now? I wondered.
    He was in such a rage. Will he try to hurt Chris? Will he try to kill Chris?
    â€œI hope not,” I murmured aloud.
    Chris is such a great guy. He doesn’t deserve to be murdered by Darryl. He doesn’t deserve what happened to the others.
    But, of course, I can’t control Darryl.
    Can I?

chapter
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17
Chris
    W ill and I had been shooting a few racks at the pool hall on Elm across from the campus. The place was noisy and crowded as usual, and Will and I had a good time.
    It helped to take our minds off all the horrible things that had been going down in the past few days. When you have to concentrate on hitting a cue ball straight, you don’t have time to think about crazed murderers stalking the campus.
    Will and I were becoming pretty good buddies. We hung out together more and more. He was nearly as bad a pool player as me, so the game was close and exciting.
    Naturally, I ran into Big Al there. At first, he pretended he didn’t know me. His idea of a funny joke. Then he joined Will and me at our table.
    He cleared the table before we could pocket a single ball. Big Al has spent a lot of time in pool halls.
    â€œI’ve got to run, man,” he said, after slapping my back so hard that my eyes nearly popped out. “You guys are no competition.”
    â€œWe’re just suckering you,” Will joked.