Wanted by R. L. Stine Read Free Book Online Page A

three of us pressed our shoulders to the door, hoping to keep him inside. Heart pounding, I expected the door to come flying open and the old ghost to come raging out at us.
    But no. The door didn’t budge. The only sound was our rapid, wheezing breaths.
    We darted away from the closet. “He’s … gone.” I hugged myself to stop my shivers. “It’s … just like my story,” I murmured.
    Both boys turned to me. “What story?” Marcus asked.
    â€œAn evil old ghost living in a closet. It’s like a story I made up for Mitch the other night. But how can that be ?”
    I didn’t want to think about it. It was just too weird. “Let’s get out of here.” I ran to the stairs. My legs were shaking. “We have to tell Polly. We — we have to warn everyone. We have to tell them there’s a ghost in the attic.”
    I grabbed the ugly green mask and pulled it on. Weird. It felt strangely warm. Not rubbery. Soft and warm as human skin.
    â€œLet’s go,” Marcus said from behind the red devil mask. He helped Brad pull on the bald-man mask with its head split open and bleeding. “If these old costumes don’t scare everyone, we’ll totally terrify them when we tell them about the ghost in the attic.”

My mask felt a little tight and uncomfortable. I tugged at it, trying to stretch it a bit as I raced down the stairs to the party. Brad and Marcus followed close behind me.
    Halfway down, I saw that the balloon game had ended. Polly and her mother were handing out plastic squirt guns. I saw a row of candles on the table. I knew this was the old squirt-out-the-candles game we’ve played since we were five.
    Big whoop.
    I stopped almost at the bottom of the stairs.
    â€œThere’s a …” I started to tell them about the ghost upstairs. But I stopped. I don’t know why. Instead, I lifted the green, scaly arms of my costume. And I roared: “ You’re all DOOMED! ”
    Behind me, Marcus and Brad let out hideous screams, shrieks like from a bad horror movie.
    â€œDOOMED!” I cried at the top of my lungs. My voice sounded strange, kind of raspy through the ugly green mask. “You’re DOOMED!”
    Polly dropped the bundle of squirt guns in her hands. The kids all turned to the stairway. I heard a few kids scream.
    â€œWho are you?” Polly’s mom shouted. Her eyes were wide with alarm. “How did you get upstairs? Do you belong at this party?”
    â€œWe’ve haunted the attic for one hundred years!” Marcus boomed in a creepy old man’s voice.
    â€œNow we will haunt YOU!” Brad yelled.
    â€œI will call the police if you are crashing this party,” Polly’s mom said, frowning at us. “If you do not leave —”
    â€œThat’s Brad,” a boy said, pointing. “I recognize his voice.”
    â€œYes. Brad and Marcus,” another boy chimed in.
    Polly’s mom looked very relieved. She laughed. “And is that Lu-Ann in the green mask with all those horrible teeth? You three fooled us. You gave us a good scare.”
    Kids all started talking at once. They stared at the old masks and costumes we were wearing.
    â€œTake off your masks so we can see it’s really you,” Polly said.
    Brad reached for his mask with both hands. He started to pull it off, gripping the split halves of the head. “Hey —” he uttered a startled cry.
    The room grew quiet.
    Brad tugged again. “I … can’t … get it off,” he groaned.
    On the step above him, Marcus was pulling hard on the red devil mask. “Whoa. Mine won’t come off, either.”
    I turned and watched both boys struggle and strain and tug.
    â€œIt’s stuck to my skin!” Brad cried. “Help me! It’s totally stuck to me!”
    â€œPlease — help!” Marcus wailed. “I’m trapped in this thing. It won’t let go! It