The Haunted Mask II by R. L. Stine Read Free Book Online Page A

normal. But
inside, I was burning up!
    I tried to tug the mask off. But it wouldn’t slide up. The hot rubber stuck
to my face.
    I groaned as the putrid odor washed over me again.
    I tugged harder. The mask didn’t budge.
    I gasped for breath.
    I grabbed the stringy hair—and pulled. I slid my hands under the chin—and
pushed.
    “Ohhh.” A sick groan escaped my throat. My hands dropped limply to my sides.
    I suddenly felt so tired. So weak.
    So totally weak.
    Every breath was a struggle. I bent over. My body began to tremble.
    I felt so weak. And old.
    Old.
    Was this how an old man felt?
    Calm down, Steve, I scolded myself. It’s just a rubber mask. It fits a little
too snug, that’s all.
    It’s stuck to your face. But you’ll pull it off, and you’ll be fine.
    Calm down. Count to ten. Then examine the mask in the mirror. Grab it from
the bottom, and you’ll be able to pull it up. No problem.
    I counted to ten. Then I stepped up close to the mirror.
    I nearly cried out when I saw my reflection. The mask really was awesome! So
real. So gross.
    With my eyes staring out of it, the face seemed to come alive. The brown lips
sneered back at me. When I moved my lips, they appeared to move too. The
green gobs of goo trembled inside the big nostrils. The spiders appeared to be
crawling through the tangled, yellow hair.
    It’s only a mask. A really cool mask, I said to myself.
    I started to feel a little calmer.
    But then a cackle escaped my throat. “Heh-heh-heh.”
    Not my cackle!
    Not in my voice! An old man’s cackle.
    How did that happen? How did I utter such a strange sound?
    I clamped my lips shut. I didn’t want to make that sound again.
    “Heh-heh-heh.”
    Another frightening cackle! In a shrill, high-pitched voice. More like a dry
croak than a laugh.
    I tightened my jaw. Clenched my teeth. Held my breath so I wouldn’t cackle
again.
    “Heh-heh-heh.”
    I wasn’t doing it!
    Who was cackling like that?
    Where was the shrill, dry laugh coming from?
    I gaped at the old face in the mirror, suddenly frozen in fear.
    And then I felt a strong hand grab my leg.

 
 
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    With a choked gasp, I whirled around.
    And peered down through the tight eyeholes of the mask.
    I instantly saw that it wasn’t a hand on my leg. It was teeth.
    Dog teeth.
    “Sparky—it’s you!” I cried. But my voice came out in a dry whisper.
    Sparky backed away.
    I cleared my throat and tried again. “Don’t be afraid, Sparky. It’s only me.”
My voice! It sounded more like a dry cough.
    It sounded like my grandpa!
    I had an old man’s face—and an old man’s voice.
    And I felt so tired. So totally weak and tired.
    As I reached to pet Sparky, my arms drooped as if they weighed a thousand
pounds. Both of my knees cracked as I bent down.
    The dog gazed up at me and tilted his head. His short stub of a tail wagged
furiously.
    “Don’t be scared, Sparky,” I croaked. “I was just trying out this mask.
Pretty scary, huh?”
    I lowered my face and tried to pick Sparky up.
    But as I leaned forward, I could see the dog’s eyes go wide with terror.
Sparky let out a shrill yip —jumped out of my hands, and went tearing
across the room, barking at the top of his lungs. Barking in total fright.
    “Sparky—it’s me!” I cried. “I know I sound different. But it’s me—Steve!”
    I wanted to chase after him. But my legs felt so weak, and my knees refused
to bend.
    It took me three tries to pull myself up to a standing position. My head
ached. I was too out-of-breath to run after Sparky.
    Too late, anyway. I could hear him barking his head off, already downstairs.
    “Weird,” I muttered, rubbing my aching back. I hobbled back to the mirror.
Sparky has seen masks before. He knew it was me. Why was he so scared? Was it my
weird voice?
    How had the mask dried up my voice? And why did I suddenly feel one hundred
and ten?
    At least, my face no longer felt on fire. But the skin of the mask still
pressed so tightly