The Horror by Rodman Philbrick Read Free Book Online

because she’d been locked in the basement.
    A few minutes later she got up and went into the kitchen and a second after that there was a blood-curdling scream.
    I ran into the kitchen. Katie stood there shaking, a broken glass at her feet.
    â€œWhat happened?” I asked.
    She pointed at the window. “Something’s out there. It was horrible. This huge hairy face was pressed up at the window, grinning at me.”
    â€œWhat did it look like?” I asked.
    Katie shivered. “I don’t know. Like a monster, I guess.”
    â€œYou must have scared it away,” I said. “There’s nothing there now.”
    I ran to the door and opened it, which was probably not that smart but there was no one—and no thing—there.
    Katie poured another glass of lemonade and we went into the living room.
    I was back helping Sally when Katie screamed again.
    â€œNo! It’s horrible! Horrible!” Katie pointed at the living room window.
    I swung around to look just as a hunched shape dropped out of view.
    Sally started to cry.
    Suddenly something scratched from outside the front door.
    â€œKatie, I want Katie,” said a strange, spooky voice through the door. “I will drink your blood.”
    I yanked open the door and a large lump in a big, black sweatshirt fell into the hall. “Ow!” it cried.
    I prodded it with my foot and it got up. Its face was a horrible mass of sores and warts with hairs growing out of them. Blood dripped from one eye.
    With a screech of fury, Katie pushed me out of the way and grabbed the thing by the nose.
    The horrible face peeled off in her hands.
    â€œOw,” said Steve, rubbing his nose. “Can’t you guys take a joke?”
    â€œI’ve had enough jokes from you two to last me a lifetime,” snapped Katie, throwing the mask on the floor and flouncing out of the room.
    â€œYou scared my little sister half to death,” I told Steve. “You’d better go home.”
    â€œSorry,” said Steve. “It was just a joke.”
    â€œSee you tomorrow,” I said. “And no more jokes.”

18
    Not long after Steve left I went up to my room. The house was a creepy place, no doubt about that, but my bedroom was pretty cool. It was big with high ceilings and a neat, old-fashioned window seat. The kind where you lift a lid that hides a toy box. Not much furniture—just my bed and a battered table I glued airplane models on, and an even rattier old bureau my mom said was a valuable antique.
    Built into the closet door was something that was almost as good as a fun house mirror. It made me look like a nine-foot high beanpole with a kink in the middle. If I jumped up and down in front of that mirror it made my reflection slither like a snake.
    I messed around with the old mirror for a while, but tonight it was boring. I tried reading, but my books were boring, too. I liked science fiction and scary-monster stuff but somehow with a ghost or two in the house the thrill wasn’t the same.
    So I put together some warm clothes and rolled up my extra blanket for later. I was going to wait for Katie to go to bed and then go get Sally and take ourselves out to sleep under the cherry tree where, maybe, it was safe. Safer than inside, anyway.
    Last night had been no big deal but I didn’t think the house would let us off that easy two nights in a row.
    And it was my job to keep Sally safe.
    So I lay down on the bed with my clothes on and stared up at the ceiling. Trying to stay awake no matter how heavy my eyelids got.
    But I couldn’t fight it. The bed was so soft. My eyelids drooped and I fell asleep.
    The next thing I knew there was a light shining in my eyes.
    I was too late. It had started.
    My room was filled with silvery blue light. A cold, cold light that made my skin look gray, like a corpse’s.
    The light was coming out of my closet! No, not the closet. The mirror on the closet door. The mirror was