The Coffin Club Read Online Free

alien abductions, and hoaxes. Just as I began to click out of one such site, I spotted something of interest. Instead of green-headed monsters, one blogger claimed that the night before he spotted a crop circle, he‘d seen a swarm of hovering bats.
    I thought I‘d stumbled onto something big. The entry had to be posted by a Harvard scholar, a scientist, or a Nobel Peace Prize winner. Instead it was signed Bob from Utah.
    Bob could have been a crackpot like any other, a bored kid in study hall posting erroneous entries on websites, or, like me, a vampire-obsessed mortal with an overactive imagination. But I took his single entry as a sign.
    There was one way to investigate my theory further. I had an advantage that Bob in Utah didn‘t—I was dating a vampire.
    ―Are you sure you don‘t want to come with me?‖ my aunt asked as she picked up an African drum lying next to the fireplace.
    ―I‘m beat—no pun intended,‖ I teased, shutting down the computer. ―Do you mind if I just crash?‖
    Even if I wasn‘t preoccupied about reuniting with Alexander, the thought of amateur drummers learning how to bang on instruments for two hours was enough to make me mental.
    ―There‘s plenty of tofu patties in the fridge and soy pudding in the cabinet. I‘ll call you on your cell at break to check in.‖
    ―Thanks, Aunt Libby,‖ I said, giving my dad‘s sister a hug. ―I really appreciate your letting me visit you again.‖
    ―Are you kidding? I love having a roommate. Just bolt the door behind me and don‘t buzz anyone in. And please, don‘t get abducted by aliens. Your father would kill me.‖

    3

The Manor House

    O nce again I found myself waiting at a bus stop. This time I hung outside Aunt Libby‘s apartment in the drizzling rain anticipating the arrival of the number seven. I paced back and forth for what seemed like an eternity, waiting for it to turn down my aunt‘s street.
    I had to admit I wasn‘t overly excited to be boarding another bus, having just ridden one for several hours, but it beat borrowing Aunt Libby‘s bike and cycling across town in the rain. It was imperative that I reach the manor house before sunset, otherwise Alexander might be out for the evening and my surprise reunion would be delayed.
    Finally I saw a bus lumbering around the corner and almost cheered when I saw it displayed a yellow seven digitally. I shoved my money in the change receptacle and quickly grabbed the cold aluminum pole. Though the bus was half empty and many seats were vacant, I chose to stand for the duration of the ride. Having missed the Lennox Hill stop the last time, I refused to have anyone or anything blocking my view and further delay reaching Alexander. My heart beat faster with every stop and acceleration. I thought I‘d caught a break since there weren‘t that many passengers on the bus, but twice as many were waiting to board the number seven at the next stop. After what felt like the span of summer break itself, I spotted Lennox Hill Road. I remembered that to notify the driver of my desire to disembark, I needed to pull on the white wire that ran above the windows. I repeatedly tugged on the cord like I was signaling an SOS.
    ―I heard you!‖ the driver shouted back.
    The rain had ceased. I hurried up Lennox Hill Road, scurrying through puddles and jumping over slimy but cool earthworms.
    Rain-soaked estates lined the street. The pristine grass lawns were drenched and several branches and leaves were scattered in the asphalt driveways.
    Then, at the end of the cul-de-sac, plain as a stormy day, sat the monstrous manor house.
    The gruesome estate appeared to be even more overgrown and unkempt than the last time I‘d visited it.
    Steam seeped into the air, creating a spooky fog around the palatial home. Moss and wild vines overtook the house like a giant spiderweb. Stone gargoyles sitting upon the jagged wrought-iron gates seemed to smile at me as I approached. Sticking in the half-dead, weed-filled