Vampire Breath by R. L. Stine Read Free Book Online

the thick carpet. The gas lamps cast a gloomy,
dim light. Our shadows seemed to hide behind us as we walked.
    Cara and I stopped at the first door we came to. I grabbed the brass knob and
turned it. The heavy door creaked as it opened.
    We peered into a large, square room filled with furniture. The furniture was all covered with white sheets. Chairs rose up
like ghosts beside a long, covered couch. In a corner beside a darkened
fireplace, a grandfather clock stood guarding the room.
    Cara pointed to the heavy black drapes that stretched over the far wall.
“There must be a window behind there. Let’s check it out.”
    We raced across the room. My shoes slipped on the floor. Glancing down, I saw
nearly an inch of dust spread over the floor.
    “I don’t think this room has been used for a while,” I said.
    Cara didn’t reply. She grabbed an end of the heavy drape and tugged. I
reached to help her. The drape slid back. A dust-smeared window stood behind it.
    “Great!” I cried.
    “Not so great,” Cara replied glumly.
    I saw instantly what she meant. The window had thick black bars across it.
    “Uggggh.” With a disgusted groan, Cara shoved the drape back into place. We
hurried back into the hall and tried the door across the hall. We stepped into a
small room filled with luggage trunks. The trunks were stacked on top of each
other up to the high ceiling.
    No window in this room.
    The next room had an enormous, old dark wood desk in its center and shelves of ancient-looking books from floor to
ceiling. Another heavy, black drape covered the window.
    I eagerly pulled the drape back—to find another dust-covered window. And
more thick, black bars. “Weird,” I muttered.
    “This castle is like a prison,” Cara said in a shaky whisper. Her dark eyes
glowed with fear. “But there has got to be a way out.”
    We crept back into the long hall. I stopped when I heard a soft fluttering
sound.
    Bat wings?
    Were the vampires returning?
    Cara heard it, too. “Hurry,” she whispered.
    We pushed open the next door and darted inside. I carefully closed the door
behind us. Then I turned and saw that we had entered a big dining room.
    The long table filled most of the room. It was bare except for a tall
candelabra in its center. Stubs of white candles poked up in the candelabra. Wax
had dripped in small puddles onto the tabletop. The puddles were buried in a
gray layer of dust.
    “No one has been in here in a long time,” I muttered.
    Cara was already at the window. She pulled back the drape to reveal another
barred window.
    “Aaaggggh!” She tore at her hair in frustration. “Every window! Every window
has bars!” she wailed. “And we can’t keep walking through these halls. Someone will find
us.”
    Staring at the long, dust-covered dining room table, I had an idea. “Vampires
don’t eat,” I said.
    “So what?” Cara cried. She slammed her fist against the heavy black drape.
    “So they probably never go in the kitchen,” I continued. “We’ll be safe in
the kitchen. And maybe there is a kitchen door. Maybe…”
    Cara sighed. “Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.” She shook her head glumly. “There are a
thousand rooms in this creepy old castle. How will we even find the kitchen?”
    I took her by the shoulders and guided her to the door. “Well, this is the
dining room, right? Maybe the kitchen is close to the dining room.”
    “Maybe maybe maybe,” she repeated bitterly.
    I guided her into the hall, then led the way to the next door. We pushed it
open and peeked inside.
    No. Not the kitchen.
    We quickly crept down the hall, trying door after door.
    No kitchen. No kitchen.
    We kept glancing back, watching for Count Nightwing, hoping we wouldn’t bump
into him.
    We turned a corner. Found ourselves in a narrower, darker hallway. I tried
the first door.
    Yes!
    An old-fashioned kitchen with a wide fireplace hearth, a wood-burning stove, and blackened pots and pans hanging on the wall
beside the