Night of the Living Dummy by R. L. Stine Read Free Book Online Page A

doorway.
    What was that eerie light?
    It took her a while to focus. Then she realized she was staring at the dim yellow light from inside the refrigerator.
    The refrigerator door was wide open.
    And… the refrigerator was empty.
    “What—what’s going on here?”
    She took a step into the kitchen. Then another.
    Something cold and wet surrounded her foot.
    Lindy gasped and, looking down, saw that she had stepped into a wide puddle.
    An overturned milk carton beside her foot revealed that the puddle was spilled milk.
    She raised her eyes to Kris, who was standing in darkness across the room, her back against the wall, her hands raised to her face in horror.
    “Kris, what on earth—”
    The scene was coming into focus now. It was all so weird, so… wrong. It was taking Lindy a long time to see the whole picture.
    But, now, following Kris’ horrified stare, Lindy saw the mess on the floor. And realized why the refrigerator was empty.
    Everything inside it had been pulled out and dumped on the kitchen floor. An orange juice bottle lay on its side in a puddle of orange juice. Eggs were scattered everywhere. Fruits and vegetables were strewn over the floor.
    “Ohh!” Lindy moaned in utter disbelief.
    Everything seemed to sparkle and gleam.
    What was all that shiny stuff among the food?
    Kris’ jewelry!
    There were earrings and bracelets and strands of beads tossed everywhere, mixed with the spilled, strewn food like some kind of bizarre salad.
    “Oh, no!” Lindy shrieked as her eyes came to rest on the figure on the floor.
    Sitting upright in the middle of the mess was Mr. Wood, grinning gleefully at her. He had several strands of beads around his neck, long, dangling earrings hanging from his ears, and a platter of leftover chicken on his lap.

 
    13

    “Kris, are you okay ?” Lindy cried, turning her eyes away from the grinning, jewelry-covered dummy.
    Kris didn’t seem to hear her.
    “Are you okay?” Lindy repeated the question.
    “Wh-what’s going on?” Kris stammered, her back pressed against the wall, her expression taut with terror. “Who—who did this? Did Mr. Wood—?”
    Lindy started to reply. But their mother’s howl of surprise from the doorway cut off her words. “Mom—” Lindy cried, spinning around.
    Mrs. Powell clicked on the ceiling light. The kitchen seemed to flare up. All three of them blinked, struggling to adjust to the sudden brightness.
    “What on earth!” Mrs. Powell cried. She started to call to her husband, then remembered he wasn’t home. “I—I don’t believe this!”
    Barky came bounding into the room, his tail wagging. He lowered his head and started to lick up some spilled milk.
    “Out you go,” Mrs. Powell said sternly. She picked up the dog, carried him out, and closed the kitchen door. Then she strode into the center of the room, shaking her head, her bare feet narrowly missing the puddle of milk.
    “I came down for a drink, and I—I found this mess,” Kris said in a trembling voice. “The food. My jewelry. Everything…”
    “Mr. Wood did it,” Lindy accused. “Look at him!”
    “Stop it! Stop it!” Mrs. Powell screamed. “I’ve had enough.”
    Mrs. Powell surveyed the mess, frowning and tugging at a strand of blonde hair. Her eyes stopped on Mr. Wood, and she uttered a groan of disgust.
    “I knew it,” she said in a low voice, raising her eyes accusingly to the two girls. “I knew this had something to do with those ventriloquist dummies.”
    “Mr. Wood did it, Mom,” Kris said heatedly, stepping away from the wall, her hands tensed into fists. “I know it sounds dumb, but—”
    “Stop it,” Mrs. Powell ordered, narrowing her eyes. “This is just sick. Sick!” She stared hard at the jewel-bedecked dummy, who grinned up at her over the big platter of chicken.
    “I’m going to take the dummies away from you both,” Mrs. Powell said, turning back to Lindy and Kris. “This whole thing has just gotten out of control.”
    “No!” Kris