35 - A Shocker on Shock Street Read Online Free

complainer.
    I turned away from him and studied The Haunted House. An iron fence
surrounded the place. As we moved around to the side, the rusty gate swung open,
squeaking and creaking.
    “Look!” I pointed to the dark windows on the second floor. The shutters all
flew open at once, then banged shut again.
    Lights came on in the windows. Through the window shades, I could see the
silhouettes of skeletons hanging, swinging slowly back and forth.
    “That’s kind of cool,” Marty said. “But not too scary.” He raised his plastic
gun and pretended to shoot at the skeletons.
    We circled The Haunted House of Horrors once. We could hear screams of terror
from inside. The shutters banged again and again. The porch swing continued to
creak back and forth, back and forth, as if taken by a ghost.
    “Are we going inside or not?” Marty demanded impatiently.
    “Sit back and stop complaining,” I said sharply. “The ride just started.
Don’t spoil it for me, okay?”
    He stuck his tongue out at me. But he settled back against the seat. We heard
a long howl, and then a shrill scream of horror.
    The tram made its way silently to the back of the house. A gate swung open
and we rolled through it. We moved quickly through the overgrown, weed-choked
backyard.
    The tram picked up speed. We bounced over the lawn. Up to the back door. A
wooden sign above the door read: ABANDON ALL HOPE.
    We’re going to crash right into the door! I thought. I ducked and raised my
hands to shield myself.
    But the door creaked open, and we burst inside.
    The tram slowed. I lowered my hands and sat up. We were in a dark,
dust-covered kitchen. An invisible ghost cackled, an evil laugh. Battered pots
and pans covered the wall. As we passed, they clattered to the floor.
    The oven door opened and closed by itself. The teapot on the stove started to
whistle. Dishes on the shelves rattled. The cackling grew louder.
    “This is pretty creepy,” I whispered.
    “Ooh. Thrills and chills!” Marty replied sarcastically. He crossed his arms in front of him. “Bor-ring!”
    “Marty—give me a break.” I shoved him away. “You can be a bad sport if you
want. But don’t ruin it for me.”
    That seemed to get to him. He muttered, “Sorry,” and scooted back next to me.
    The tram moved out of the dark kitchen, into an even darker hallway.
Paintings of goblins and ugly creatures hung on the hallway walls.
    As we approached a closet door, it sprang open—and a shrieking skeleton
popped out in front of us, its jaws open, its arms jutting out to grab us.
    I screamed. Marty laughed.
    The skeleton snapped back into the closet. The tram turned a corner. I saw
flickering light up ahead.
    We rode into a large, round room. “It’s the living room,” I whispered to
Marty. I raised my eyes to the flickering light and saw a chandelier above our
heads, with a dozen burning candles.
    The tram stopped beneath it. The chandelier began to shake. Then, with a
hiss, the candles all flickered out at once.
    The room plunged into darkness.
    Then a deep laugh echoed all around us.
    I gasped.
    “Welcome to my humble home!” a deep voice suddenly boomed.
    “Who is that?” I whispered to Marty. “Where is it coming from?” No reply.
“Hey—Marty?” I turned to him. “Marty—?” He was gone.

 
 
7
     
     
    “Marty?”
    My breath caught in my throat. I froze, staring into the darkness.
    Where did he go? I asked myself. He knows we aren’t supposed to leave the
tramcar. Did he climb out?
    No.
    If he had, I would have heard him.
    “Marty?”
    Someone grabbed my arm.
    I heard a soft laugh. Marty’s laugh.
    “Hey—where are you? I can’t see you!” I cried.
    “I can’t see you, either,” he replied. “But I didn’t move. I’m still sitting
right next to you.”
    “Huh?” I reached out and felt the sleeve of his shirt.
    “This is cool!” Marty declared. “I’m waving my arms, but I can’t see a thing.
You really can’t see