Series 2000- Return to Horroland

  Series 2000- Return to Horroland

  R. L. Stine

  (2012)

  * * *

  GOOSEBUMPS 2000 NO. 13 RETURN TO HORRORLAND

  R. L. STINE

  COPYRIGHT 1999 PARACHUTE PRESS, L.L.C.

  BOOK JACKET INFORMATION

  Goosebumps

  No. 13

  APPLE FICTION

  Long time no scream!

  Welcome to the new

  millennium of fear

  Goosebumps (R)

  SERIES 2000

  “There’s a food stand over there,” I said, pointing. A Horror in a purple apron leaned against a small cart.

  We hurried over to it. A sign on top of the cart read: FINGERS

  “Great! You got chicken fingers?” Luke asked the Horror.

  She shook her head. “No. Just fingers.”

  I lowered my eyes to the cart. Steam rose up. I saw a pile of fingers toasting inside. Human fingers.

  “They’re pretty good with ketchup,” the Horror rasped.

  SCHOLASTIC INC. RL4 008-012

  RETURN TO HORRORLAND

  Why did my brother, Luke, and I return to HorrorLand?

  We never planned on it. We never wanted to see that terrifying place again. We tried not to think about our narrow escape last summer from that frightening park.

  Now, it was a gray winter day six months later. Rain pattered on the den window. Blasts of wind shook the glass.

  I gazed at the TV, waiting for my favorite show to begin.

  Without any warning, icy fingers gripped my neck.

  “The ghoul attacks!” a voice rasped.

  “Luke—let go of me!” I shrieked. I grabbed my brother’s wrists and tugged his hands away.

  “Ha ha. He got you, Lizzy!” Luke’s friend Clay tossed back his head and giggled. Clay thinks my brother is a riot. He laughs at every obnoxious thing Luke does.

  I jumped off the couch, tackled Luke, and pinned him to the floor. “Why are your hands so cold?” I demanded angrily.

  Luke grinned up at me. “I put them in the freezer.”

  Clay thought that was hilarious too. He laughed and slapped the arms of his chair.

  Is there anything dumber in the world than a ten-year-old boy?

  Yes. Two ten-year-old boys.

  “Why don’t you go put your head in the freezer!” I snapped at Luke. Sitting on his chest, I pressed his skinny arms to the floor.

  “Get off me, Lizzy,” he growled.

  “Make me,” I replied.

  Okay, okay. Hanging out with ten-year-olds makes me a little obnoxious too. I’m supposed to be the calm one in the Morris family. But sometimes Luke sends me over the edge.

  “Get off me!” he pleaded. “I … can’t … breathe!”

  His face turned bright red. He struggled to squirm free. But he wasn’t strong enough to throw me off.

  “This is the only way to get you to sit still,” I said. Luke has way too much energy. He’s always bouncing off the walls. He can’t even stay still when he’s asleep. He falls out of bed at least once a night. Really!

  “Hey—the show is coming on,” Clay interrupted. “Cut it out, you two.”

  I climbed off Luke, tucked my T-shirt back into my jeans, and returned to my place on the couch. I rubbed the back of my neck. It still felt cold from his icy fingers.

  Luke stood up, grumbling. He brushed back his straight black hair and dropped onto the arm of Clay’s chair. He grinned at me and stuck out his tongue.

  Very mature.

  I glared back at him. But it’s impossible to stay angry at someone who looks so much like you.

  Luke and I are both tall and thin. We both have blue eyes, straight black hair, and very fair skin. If I wasn’t two years older and four inches taller, we really would look like twins.

  “Look out!” he cried. He scraped both hands over Clay’s head, messing up his hair.

  Clay twisted away. But instead of getting angry, he laughed. I told you—he thinks everything Luke does is hilarious. Clay even thinks it’s funny when Luke smears his eyeglasses with his thumbs.

  Weird.

  Clay is short and stocky. With his glasses, his round face, and his short, feathery blond hair, he reminds me of a chubby owl.

  He tried to straighten his hair. But Luke messed it up again. Then the two of them started a playful shoving match. Clay gave Luke a hard elbow shove. Luke fell off the chair arm and landed hard on the floor.

  “Be quiet. It’s starting,” I scolded.

  “It’s a strange world …,” the deep voice on the TV screen announced. “And now it’s time to prove it—on The Strange Report.”

  Luke and I love The Strange Report. It has the weirdest people in the world, telling the weirdest stories. Derek and Margo Strange are the hosts. They are a husband-and-wife team who travel all over the world, searching for wackos and weirdos.

  Last week, they had a man on who ate his own car. He said he could eat anything. He ate a bicycle on camera to prove it. Next he was going to eat a live parrot—but they stopped him in time.

  One of my favorites was a woman who owned a hundred cats. She knew them all by name. She said she gave each one of them a tongue bath every day. They showed the woman licking one of her cats. Yuck. It was really gross.

  Luke and I laugh our heads off at this show.

  “It’s sick,” Clay insists. “It’s totally sick.”

  I guess that’s why Luke and I like it so much.

  Where do Derek and Margo Strange find these people?

  “Look at this kid!” Luke exclaimed, pointing at the screen. “What’s he doing on this show? He looks normal!”

  The kid seemed to be about my age. His name appeared on the bottom of the screen: Evan Ross. He was squeezing a ball of gloppy green stuff in one hand.

  “It’s very dangerous,” he was telling Margo Strange. “If people eat a little of it, they’ll start to grow.”

  “What do you call it?” Margo asked the kid.

  “Monster Blood,” he replied.

  Margo nodded solemnly. She has a very pretty, very serious face. With her straight coppery hair, green eyes, and full red lips, she looks a lot like Agent Scully on The X-Files.

  Margo never laughs at her guests. Even when they are totally nuts. She and Derek always take them seriously.

  The camera moved down to a metal bucket on a table beside the kid named Evan. The bucket was filled with Monster Blood. The green goop bubbled over the top.

  “And you say that Monster Blood can turn a person into a giant?” Margo asked Evan.

  Evan nodded. “Animals too,” he said, dropping the blob of green stuff into the bucket. “At school, our classroom hamster ate some, and it turned him into a giant killer hamster!”

  Luke and Clay burst out laughing. “Whoa! A giant hamster!” Luke declared. “King Kong Hamster!” He jumped up, strutting and grunting like a gorilla, pounding his chest.

  “This kid just wants to get on TV!” Clay snickered. “What a phony baloney.”

  “We have some videotape,” Derek Strange said. “Someone in Evan’s school had a camcorder and shot this home video of Cuddles the hamster.”

  “This I’ve got to see!” I declared, leaning closer to the TV.

  They switched to the videotape. The picture was dark and blurry. I could see a school hallway. A long row of lockers.

  Then I heard a roar. It sounded like a lion’s roar, very angry. I heard kids screaming. The picture bounced and jerked.

  And a huge, furry brown creature rumbled into the hall. It opened its mouth in a ferocious roar. And swung huge brown paws.

  “That’s Cuddles,” Evan explained over the roars and cries of th
e videotape. “That’s Cuddles after Monster Blood.”

  The huge hamster twitched its pink nose. Its whiskers batted against the tile walls.

  Luke, Clay, and I fell on the floor laughing.

  “That can’t be real!” Clay cried. “It’s got to be someone in a big hamster costume!”

  “It’s sick! Sick!” Luke declared, laughing and slapping the floor.

  “Why are you kids watching this?” a voice called. All three of us turned to see Mom in the den doorway. She had her arms crossed in front of her. She frowned at the TV screen.

  “Why do you watch such a dumb show?” she demanded. “What a waste of time.”

  “But it’s funny!” I protested. “See this kid with the giant hamster? He has this green stuff—”

  I didn’t get to finish. The front doorbell chimed.

  “I’ll get it!” I cried. I pushed past Mom and scrambled to the door.

  “Who is it?” I called out.

  I pulled the door open. Uttered a startled gasp.

  And stared out at Derek and Margo Strange.

  “Huh? Whuh?” I tried to speak, but no words came out.

  Derek Strange narrowed his eyes at me. Margo Strange smiled. In person, her red hair was even brighter and her eyes were even greener than on TV.

  “Are you Lizzy Morris?” Margo asked.

  “Whuh? Uh …”

  “Who is it?” Mom stepped up behind me. She also let out a gasp as she recognized our two visitors.

  “Mrs. Morris?” Margo asked, a smile spreading over her dark red lips.

  “The kids were just watching you on TV!” Mom exclaimed.

  “More-Monster Blood,” I choked out, my heart pounding.

  “Oh, right. The Monster Blood show,” Derek said, chuckling. “We taped that show in Atlanta a few weeks ago.”

  “What a weird kid,” Margo said. “He swore his story was true. But Derek and I didn’t really believe it.” She wiped a splash of rainwater off her forehead.

  “Come in. Come in,” Mom said, holding open the storm door. “It’s still raining. You’re getting all wet.”

  I saw a long white limousine parked at the foot of our driveway. “I can’t believe you’re really here!” I gushed, starting to feel a little more normal.

  “We flew in from New York to see you,” Margo said. “It’s great to be back in Chicago again.”

  Mom led them into the den. “We have visitors,” she told the boys.

  When they saw the Stranges, Luke and Clay nearly exploded. Their faces turned bright red. Their mouths burst open. They looked like two balloons about to pop.

  “I’m glad you enjoy our show,” Margo said, glancing at the TV screen.

  “Yes. We came from New York to personally thank you for watching!” Derek said. He laughed heartily to show he was joking.

  I stared at him. How was this possible? Derek Strange standing in my den? He was tall and handsome. In person, he looked bigger than on TV. With his straight black mustache and wavy, dark hair, he looked a little like Tom Selleck.

  Except I saw now that his hair wasn’t real. The top didn’t match the sides. Standing this close, I could see the line of his toupee. It looked as if he were wearing a furry black cat on his head!

  “We came to talk to you about something very important,” Margo said.

  “Sit down. Sit down, please!” Mom twittered. “What can I bring you? Would you like some coffee?”

  Margo shivered and hugged herself. “Coffee would be nice. I got a little chilled in the rain.”

  She straightened the sleeves of her navy blue business suit and then perched on the edge of the couch. Derek dropped down heavily beside her, loosening his tie.

  “I’ll be right back with the coffee,” Mom said. “Then we can talk about why you’ve come.” She hurried to the kitchen.

  Luke clicked off the TV. “I’m Luke and this is my friend Clay,” he said.

  “We know,” Derek Strange replied.

  I held my breath. What a weird thing to say, I thought. Why does he know us? Why have they come here?

  “What are you doing here?” Luke blurted out.

  Derek leaned forward, still tugging at his tie. His dark eyes moved from Luke to Clay to me. “Some evil aliens landed in your backyard,” he said softly. “They plan to kidnap the three of you in their spacecraft and operate on you. Margo and I are going to film it.”

  “Excuse me?” My mouth dropped open.

  Derek burst out laughing.

  Margo gave him a playful shove. “Shut up, Derek,” she scolded, shaking her head. She turned back to us. “Don’t pay any attention to him. He has a sick sense of humor.”

  “I must have a sick sense of humor,” Derek told her, grinning. “I married you!” He laughed at his own joke.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off the furry toupee perched on Derek’s head. He looked so young and handsome on TV. Up close, he appeared much older, with yellow skin and wrinkles under his eyes. I tried to picture him bald.

  Margo’s voice broke into my thoughts. “I understand you’ve been to HorrorLand,” she said, her green eyes locking on mine.

  “It was … scary,” Clay muttered.

  “It was gross!” Luke cried. “Our car blew up and the monsters turned out to be real and—”

  “How did you know we were there?” I interrupted him. “That was last summer.”

  “We saw the HorrorLand attendance records,” Derek replied. “Actually, we stole them from the park. And we found your names and addresses on the list.”

  “We want to do a show about HorrorLand,” Margo added, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Derek and I want to take you back to HorrorLand and film you.”

  “No way!” Luke and I cried in unison.

  “I’m never going back there!” Clay exclaimed, shaking his head.

  “What’s going on?” Mom asked cheerily. She returned to the den, carrying a tray with the coffeepot and mugs. “Have we found out the reason for this mysterious visit?”

  “They want to take us to HorrorLand!” Luke blurted out.

  Mom’s face tightened into a fretful frown as she set the tray down on the coffee table. She shuddered. “That dreadful, frightening place,” she murmured. “Why would anyone want to go there?”

  “We think something suspicious is going on there,” Margo replied. “Maybe something very dangerous.”

  “We think the TV viewers should be warned about HorrorLand,” Derek added, reaching for the coffeepot and pouring himself a mug. “We want to find out why the park keeps moving every few months. Did you know it moved to Florida a few weeks ago?”

  “No. We didn’t,” Mom said, shaking her head.

  “We want to expose HorrorLand,” Derek continued. “Maybe put it out of business.”

  “But why do you want to take us there?” I demanded, my voice shaking.

  “You’ve been there,” Derek replied. “You know what to expect.”

  “But—but—” I stammered. “Isn’t it just some kind of cable TV horror show with monsters? Last summer, they told us it was all just a game show.”

  “We don’t think so,” Margo replied solemnly. “We want to find out the truth. We—”

  “I’m very sorry,” Mom interrupted, frowning. “But it’s much too terrifying. I’m afraid you two people have traveled a long way for nothing. I can’t allow the children to return to that park.”

  Margo set down her coffee mug. “But they’ll be perfectly safe,” she told Mom. “Derek and I will never let them out of our sight. We’ll be right there, taping them secretly, taping everything that happens. The kids will never be in any real danger.”

  Mom bit her bottom lip. “I don’t think so,” she replied thoughtfully.

  “And we are prepared to pay you ten thousand dollars,” Derek said. “For one weekend.”

  I saw Mom swallow hard. Her expression softened.

  We could really use ten thousand dollars. Dad lost his job at the bank. He has been work
ing only part-time since the fall.

  Mom sighed. “Well … maybe if my husband and I came along.”

  “I’m sorry,” Margo said. “We can’t take you. Derek and I have to pretend to be the parents.”

  Mom thought some more. “You’re sure the kids will be perfectly safe?” she asked.

  “Perfectly safe,” Derek replied, raising his right hand as if swearing an oath. “Margo and I will be right there with them, taping what goes on. I promise you they’ll be okay, Mrs. Morris.”

  “Well …” Mom hesitated. “I have to check with my husband. Let me go call him.”

  Luke and I exchanged glances. It appeared that we were about to return to HorrorLand. How did we feel about that? Horrified? Excited? Sick?

  I couldn’t decide.

  “Can Clay come too?” Luke asked the Stranges. “He was with us last summer.”

  Margo nodded. “Yes—if his parents approve.”

  “Do we … do we have to go on the rides?” Clay stammered. His eyes were wide behind his glasses. He had that frightened owl look again.

  “Remember that floating coffin ride?” Luke asked him. “And the Doom Slide?”

  “Yuck.” Clay made a sick face.

  “We want to show the world how horrifying that park is,” Margo said. “We want to show everyone how dangerous it is. How irresponsible the owners are.”

  “But do we have to go on everything?” Clay asked in a tiny voice.

  Mom returned before the Stranges could answer. She nodded solemnly. “It’s okay with us,” she told them, “as long as you guarantee their safety.”

  “We guarantee it,” Derek said with a smile. “Thank you for cooperating.”

  Margo was applying a fresh coat of red lipstick to her lips. “We’ll come back for you next Friday,” she said. “And we’ll all fly down to Florida together. We can talk about our plans on the plane.”

  “We’ll bring you the check for ten thousand dollars next Friday,” Derek promised Mom, climbing to his feet. He turned to us kids. “You’re not really frightened—are you?”

  “Uh … well …” I hesitated.

  “No way,” Luke said. He always has to be the brave one. “I’m not scared. I can’t wait.”