Free They Call Me Creature by R.L. Stine Page A

trees. “I saw them heading into the woods.”
    â€œOh, no,” I moaned. If Dad found out that kids went into the woods, he would stop the party!
    I had to bring them back—fast.
    I took off running across the backyard. “I’ll be right back!” I called. I made my way onto the path and started to shout as I entered the woods. “Ellen? Hey, Ellen? Stevie?”
    No reply.
    I followed the path through a growth of tall weeds, over a fallen log. “Ellen? Stevie? Where are you guys?”
    I walked all the way to the pond, then turned around.
    How could she do this to me? I asked myself angrily. Doesn’t she know how much trouble she’s getting me into?
    I wandered in circles, calling out their names. I became angrier and angrier as I walked.
    â€œStevie? Ellen?” I called. My eyes searched the trees. “Are you here?”
    No reply.
    A bird cawed. An ugly, raw sound, as if it had something stuck in its throat.
    â€œHey—if you’re hiding, it isn’t funny!” I yelled.
    I heard footsteps. Fast, running footsteps through the trees behind me.
    I spun around. “Ellen? Stevie? Is that you?”
    â€œHunnh hunnh.” Animal grunts. Very close by.
    I froze. My breath caught in my throat.
    â€œHunnnnh.” A long, low grunt.
    And then a high, shrill squeal. A horrible, frightening cry—like an animal in pain.
    I ran toward the sound.
    My heart pounding, I raced from tree to tree, searching frantically, frightened of what I’d find.
    In front of me I saw a clump of evergreen shrubs shaking. A flash of red through the greenery. Then I heard a long, loud ripping sound. It reminded me of a Velcro shoe being torn open.
    My heart skipped a beat as I moved closer to the shrubs.
    I heard a moan, soft and weak.
    And then I stopped when I heard the chewing. The crack of bone breaking.
    Loud chewing … chewing … chewing …
    I couldn’t stand it anymore.
    I had to see what was on the other side of the shrub.
    With a pounding heart, I moved around the bushes, looked down at the ground—and opened my mouth in an endless scream.
    A deer was sprawled on its side in the tall grass. Its head had been torn off. The head sat straight up a few feet from the body. One eye stared blankly at me. The other eye had been yanked out.
    The body had been clawed apart. Pale white bones and bright red meat poked out through the torn fur. A swarm of flies already buzzed around the opening.
    â€œIt … it’s half-eaten,” I choked out.
    I stared in horror at the deer. Most of the insides had been ripped out and devoured. The fur sagged loosely, like an empty bag.
    â€œOh, sick,” I moaned, finally turning away. “Sick.”
    What kind of animal did this? There were no bears in these woods. So what was big enough and strong enough—and hungry enough—to do this?
    And what if the deer hadn’t come along? I thought.
    I was so close to it. Would the animal have found me instead? Would it have ripped me apart and devoured me?
    My whole body twisted in a violent shudder. I spun away from the dead deer. And realized that Ellen and Stevie were still out here. I had to find them. I had to make sure they were okay.
    I circled back around the evergreen shrubs and found a path that curved towards the pond.
    I started to follow the path when I heard the sound of footsteps again. With a frightened cry, I whirled around—and saw a man coming toward me, running fast. Eyeglasses glinted in the light.
    â€œDad!” I shouted. “Dad—what are you—”
    I didn’t finish my question.
    As he drew closer, I gaped in horror at him. At the red stains all down the front of his clothes.
    The red … the bright, wet red …
    My dad—he … he was covered in blood.

 

    â€œThe blood,” I muttered.
    I took a step back, my whole body tight with fear.
    My dad stood hunched in front of me, breathing hard.