Free Night of the Giant Everything by R. L. Stine Page B

see me as I darted past.
    I reached the exit and hurtled outside. I left the door wide open. Birds flew out and soared toward the sky.
    I took off, running down the gravel path in my bare feet. Behind me, I could hear the men’s angry shouts over the deafening bird cries.
    I watched to see if they were coming after me. But no. They were too busy with their escaped birds.
    How did I get home? It was all a dark blur to me.
    I ran all the way. I kept away from the roads. I tried to stay behind hedges and trees. I ran through backyards.
    It was a dark night, no moon or stars. I don’t know if anyone saw me, a naked twelve-year-old boy running as hard as he could.
    Mom and Dad were so happy to see me. Of course, they had a million questions for me. I said, “I’ll tell you everything. Just let me get some clothes on!”
    I can’t tell you how happy I was when my jeans and T-shirt
fit!
    At the dinner table, I told Mom and Dad everything, from the beginning. Dad called the police to tell them about the two men and their science lab in the woods.
    Then I settled down to my favorite dessert. Chocolate ice cream with chocolate syrup over it.
    The spoon felt good in my hand. It was the right size.
    I was the right size. The
world
was the right size again.
    The chocolate ice cream was helping to calm me down. All three of us had big smiles on our faces.
    Then I heard a flapping sound at the window.
    I gasped as Bugsy came flying in. Mom and Dad cried out in surprise.
    The bird fluttered over the dining room table.
    “He—he followed me home!” I stammered.
    And then Bugsy landed on my shoulder. His claws dug into my T-shirt.
    He leaned his beak forward.
    “No!” I cried. “No, Bugsy! Don’t kiss! Don’t kiss! Bugsy! Oh, nooooo!” I wailed. “He
kissed
me!”

WELCOME BACK TO
THE HALL OF HORRORS
    Well, Steven, that’s quite a tall tale you told me. Or should I call it a
short story?
    Here. Let me pick you up and carry you to your room for the night. Whoa. Are you putting on weight? You must weigh at least two pounds.
    Tonight you will sleep in the guest deadroom. I have a comfy dresser drawer made up for you.
    Don’t be afraid. There are no birds flying around in the Hall of Horrors. Well … only vultures.
    I am the Story-Keeper, and I will keep your story here where it belongs.
    But now I’m being rude. We have a new guest.
    Come right in, young woman. Don’t be afraid of my pet scorpions. They only sting when they haven’t been fed for a while.
    Hmmmm … Have I fed them recently? I don’t remember.
    What is your name, dear? Monica? I see you are carrying a Halloween mask. A very ugly, frightening mask. Does this mean you have a Halloween story for me?
    Come in. Plenty of room in the Hall of Horrors. You know … There’s Always Room for One More Scream.

Ready for More?
    Here’s another tale from the Hall of Horrors:

    THE FIVE MASKS OF
DR. SCREEM
1
    My brother, Peter, tightened the belt around his white karate uniform. “Monica,” he said, “if you get more Snickers bars than me, can we trade?”
    He didn’t wait for me to answer.
    “Mom, are we allowed to eat unwrapped candy?” he shouted. Mom was downstairs. How did he expect her to hear him?
    He did a little dance and gave me a hard karate chop on the shoulder.
    “Ow. Stop it, Peter,” I groaned. I rubbed my shoulder.
    He laughed. “You’re such a wimp.” He pretended to chop me again. I ducked away.
    “Can you get dizzy from eating chocolate?” Peter asked. “Freddy Milner says if you eat enough chocolate, you get so dizzy, you can’t walk straight.”
    “Don’t try it tonight,” I said.
    He staggered around the room till he crashed into the wall. Then he leaped in the air and did a high karate kick.
    “Look out!” I screamed. He almost kicked my laptop off the desk.
    “Why don’t you get out of my room and wait downstairs?” I said.
    “Why don’t you make me?” he said. He grinned his toothy grin as he raised both fists.
    Peter