The Awakening Evil by R.L. Stine Read Free Book Online Page B

frail and sickly. But he walked toward her. Using the walking stick to help him.
    Just before he reached the bed, his eyes widened in terror.
    He raised the stick, as if to ward off an attacker.
    His head jerked back, as if someone had pulled it hard from behind.
    Then his head twisted sideways with a terrible snap.
    Jane screamed.
    Something had broken his neck! Some invisible, evil force!
    He crumpled to the floor.
    Jane jumped out of bed and clasped her husband in her arms. “Thomas!” she cried.
    She rocked him back and forth. He felt as light as a feather.
    â€œNo!” she cried. “No!”
    She pressed her cheek against his. He felt terribly cold. She held him so close that her tears rolled down his cheeks, instead of her own. They turned to ice when they touched his skin.
    His lips moved.
    He was trying to speak.
    She pressed her ear to his mouth. “What? What is it, Thomas?” she exclaimed.
    What was he trying to say?
    Then she heard his voice. Only a whisper. More like a breeze than spoken words.
    â€œYou … are … in … terrible … danger!” he breathed.

Chapter
11

    H is words chilled her.
    â€œDanger from what?” Jane cried.
    Thomas’s body began to fade in her arms. In moments she was holding nothing but air.
    She must have screamed, for her nurses ran into the room.
    â€œWhat are you doing out of bed?” cried the heavy one.
    â€œAnd opening the windows?” shrieked the thin one. “Oh, she is trying to do herself in, this one is. So we’ll be blamed!”
    The nurses lifted her back into bed. Jane’s teeth chattered violently.
    She was in danger. Thomas had said so. And she believed him.
    But from whom? From what?
    Don’t fall asleep, she ordered herself. You must stay alert. You must be ready to fight.
    But she was so tired, so weak. Her eyes drifted closed.
    When she woke, bright sunlight poured through the windows of her bedroom.
    She felt even worse. She no longer had the strength to turn over in bed.
    Dr. Pierce forced some medicine down her throat and she fell asleep again.
    When she opened her eyes, it was dark. Though the windows were firmly shut, the room felt as frigid as the night Thomas had come to warn her. Rain drummed against the windowpanes.
    The bony branches of the cherry tree tap-tap-tapped against the side of the house. The sound sent a shiver through Jane.
    â€œJason?” she murmured hopefully.
    No answer.
    She was all alone.
    Her body trembled horribly. She wrapped her thin arms around her knees, trying to stop shaking.
    I have to get out of bed, she told herself. I am losing my mind lying here in this room day after day.
    She swung her legs out of the bed. The cool air stung her flesh. She shook even harder.
    But she forced herself to keep going.
    She gasped when her bare feet touched the coldfloor. Her legs felt as thin and weak as toothpicks. She was amazed that they could support her.
    Jane moved slowly across the room toward her desk. Her breath came in ragged pants.
    Made it! She grabbed hold of the side of the desk and eased herself into the chair. Then she lowered her head against the desktop, exhausted.
    After a moment, she felt better. She lifted her head and looked at herself in the mirror.
    Her heart raced. She had no face!
    Then, with a laugh, she realized what had happened. The servants had taken down the mirror, leaving a dusty square on the wall where the mirror had once hung.
    They must not want me to see myself, she realized. I must look awful.
    She laughed harder. Her laughter sounded strange in her ears. How long has it been since I laughed at anything? she wondered.
    On her desk lay her calendar. It was open to February 13.
    That was the day. The horrible day that—
    â€œOh, Thomas,” she murmured. No tears came. All cried out, she thought. But her grief had not lessened. It felt like a large rock jammed inside her throat.
    What day is it today? she thought. How many days