How I Met My Monster (9780545510172)
R. L. Stine
Contents
Title Page
Welcome. You Are Most Wanted.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Preview: Goosebumps® Most Wanted #4: Frankenstein’s Dog
About the Author
Also Available
Copyright
Come in. I’m R.L. Stine. Welcome to the Goosebumps office.
Please excuse the mess. My housecreeper didn’t show up today because she’s sick. Uh-oh. That’s not a lumpy rug you’re standing on. She was sick all over the floor.
Please sit down. You can clean your shoes off later.
We had a monster party here last night. It was a surprise good-bye party for my friend Oggie. Oggie didn’t know he was going away. But at the end of the party, one of the guests ATE him.
That’s why it was a surprise good-bye party.
I see you are admiring the WANTED posters on the wall. Those posters show the creepiest, crawliest, grossest monsters and bad dudes of all time. They are the MOST WANTED characters from the Goosebumps books.
I am telling their stories in the Goosebumps: Most Wanted series.
You’re not afraid of monsters, are you? Well, what if there was a monster in your class at school? What if you were the only one who knew he was a monster? And what if he decided you were his next victim?
Then would you be a tiny bit afraid?
Well, here’s a boy named Noah Bienstock. The kids all call him Bean. He has a story to tell you about monsters.
Better read it carefully. You never know when someone might be planning a surprise good-bye party for you!
After you read Bean’s story, you will definitely know why the monster in his class is MOST WANTED.
Have you ever felt so frightened, you couldn’t breathe? Like your whole body just locked in fear, and you couldn’t even blink your eyes?
That’s how I feel right now. I can’t move and I can’t think straight.
My name is Noah Bienstock and I’m twelve. Everyone calls me Bean, even my parents.
I’m underwater. Deep underwater. And it’s cold down here. It feels like icicles brushing against my skin. Each ripple of the soupy green water makes me shiver.
I know I have to move. Because something is coming after me. Something dark and big.
I see only a billowing black shadow in the water. Like an inkblot. Moving fast, in a straight line. It starts to take shape. It’s some sort of creature.
Ohh. I’ve seen it before. It’s the monster.
I pull my arms forward and try to swim. My muscles don’t want to work. The water suddenly feels heavy, as if it’s pushing down on me, trying to sink me.
The shadow rolls over me, covering me in its darkness, making the water even colder.
I shudder. My whole body prickles from the cold. I want to scream. Scream for help. But I’m deep underwater.
No one can scream underwater. Even in a dream.
Yes, I know I’m dreaming. I’ve had this dream before.
I know it’s a dream, but I can’t stop my terror. Each time, the dream seems as real as my life. Each time, the monster behind the inky black shadow comes closer … closer to swallowing me up.
I ignore my pounding heartbeats and force myself to swim. I kick hard. My hands churn the water. Faster. Harder. But I can’t pull myself out of the cold shadow. It reaches over me with tentacles like some kind of octopus.
I can’t escape. It’s too fast, too big. The shadow spreads over me, making me shudder again as I frantically churn the water. I know the monster is close behind it.
I’m dreaming. I’m dreaming about the monster again. But I can’t wake up. I can’t raise myself from the green-black ocean depths.
The water bubbles and swirls. Long weeds slap at my face and wrap around my arms. Let me go. Let me go.
My chest is bursting. I need to breathe. I need to scream.
And then I hear a growled whisper, carried by a strong underwater wave. A terrifying low voice, calling to me: I’ll find you. You can’t hide. I promise I’ll find you.
My terror makes my arms stronger. I slap at the water. Push through the long, sharp weeds. Swim up. Yes. My thudding heartbeats are like an engine. I kick and thrash my arms and reach the surface.
Yes!
My head shoots up over the water. I struggle to suck in a deep breath.
But I feel the monster beneath me. I feel it wrap its powerful arms around my legs. And pull me hard … pull me down.
I can’t kick free. I can’t swim. I can’t breathe. I can’t escape.
Down … Down …
Wake up! Why can’t I WAKE UP?
“I had the dream again,” I said.
Mom poured a pile of Wheaties into my bowl. She shook her head and tsk-tsked. “Again?” She tilted the milk carton over the cereal.
“I can pour my own milk,” I said. “I’m not a baby.”
“I like to pour it,” she said. “Makes me feel like a real mom, you know. Like in the TV commercials.”
Mom and Dad aren’t like TV parents. Mom is a rocket scientist. Really. She’s always flying off to some desert to work on a new kind of space rocket. Dad manages a pet shop at the mall. He’s always bringing strange birds home to show off to me.
“Why do I have to have nonfat milk?” I grumbled. “It tastes like water. Why can’t I have real milk?”
She squinted at me. “Because you’re a chub?”
“I’m not a chub.” I slammed my spoon on the tabletop. “I’m not even the biggest kid in my class. Not even close. Why do you always have to say I’m a chub?”
“Sorry,” she said. “Look. Don’t take it out on me. Okay? You’re upset because of the dream.”
“Yeah. Why do I have so many horrible nightmares about being chased by monsters? You’re a scientist. Tell me, why do I keep having this underwater dream?”
Mom dropped into the chair across the table and took a long sip of coffee. “Because you’re nervous.”
“Huh? Nervous about drowning?”
“No, Bean. You’re nervous about the swim team tryouts. You’re not sure you’re good enough to make the team. So you keep having nightmares about swimming.”
I stared hard at her. “Maybe you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right. I’m a scientist.”
“But … why do the dreams seem so real?”
She took another sip of coffee. It must have been really hot. The heat made her glasses steam up. “Because you have a really powerful imagination, I guess.”
I liked that answer. I do have a good imagination. I think it’s because I spend a lot of time by myself, thinking up things.
I don’t have a ton of friends. I don’t talk a lot in school, and it’s hard for me to hang out with other kids. I can never think of anything to say.
I t
hink it’s because I’m kind of shy. And that makes life a little tough. And a little lonely.
My best friend is Lissa Gardener. She’s in my class, and she lives upstairs from me at Sternom House, our apartment building.
Lissa and I look like we come from different planets. I’m short and a little chubby. I have curly black hair and dark eyes and wear glasses like my mom and dad. Lissa is tall and thin, with straight blond hair and blue eyes.
She is trying out for the girls’ swim team. But she doesn’t have nightmares about it because she knows she’s really good at sports. She has other friends, too. But since we live in the same apartment building, we end up spending a lot of time together.
I went to my room and got dressed for school. I expected to find puddles of water on my floor. You know. From my dream.
Bright sunlight filled my bedroom window. But I still saw that terrifying shadow, the shadow of the monster rolling over me deep under the water.
I shivered. I couldn’t shake the dream from my mind.
I knew Mom was right. I was just stressed about the swim team tryouts.
I didn’t really want to try out. But Lissa said I had to get into some activities at school. She said it would help me make more friends.
I shouted good-bye to Mom. Then I swung my backpack onto my shoulders and headed out the door.
We live on the fourth floor. I never take the elevator. I always go down the stairs. My sneakers clanged on the metal steps as I ran down, my hand sliding down the narrow railing.
I pushed open the door and stepped outside. It was a sunny spring day with puffy white clouds high overhead. The air was warm and smelled of flowers.
I stopped when I saw a red-and-white moving van parked at the curb. A family was watching as movers started to unload their furniture and cartons from the back of the big truck.
A new family moving into the building.
I saw three kids. Two of them were little. But one could be about my age. He turned as I started to walk past. He had brown hair down over his forehead to his eyes. He didn’t smile. He turned back to the truck before I could say hi or anything.
Sternom House is very big. Families move in and out of our building all the time. But I always hoped a boy my age would move in and we could be friends.
I heard a heavy thud as one of the workers dropped a carton off the truck. I didn’t wait to see what happened next. I turned the corner and trotted down Elm toward school.
I was halfway down the block, past another apartment house and then a row of little houses. I heard footsteps. Coming on fast.
I didn’t have time to turn around. Icy fingers wrapped around the back of my neck.
I screamed. I couldn’t help myself. Suddenly, I was back in my dream.
I let out another shriek.
The fingers loosened on my neck. I heard a giggle.
I turned and found Lissa behind me. She had a grin on her face, as if she’d won some kind of game. Her blue eyes flashed in the sunlight.
I don’t know what her problem is. She’s supposed to be my friend. Why does she like to scare me?
“Why’d you do that?” I snapped, rubbing the back of my neck.
She shrugged. “Just felt like it.” That made her giggle again. “Bean, why are you so jumpy?”
“I don’t know.” I shifted my backpack and started walking again. A big SUV rumbled past and some kids shouted at us out the window. “I guess it’s because I had another bad dream.”
“Another monster dream?”
“I can’t seem to shake it off,” I said.
She pulled up a blade of grass and put it between her lips. I don’t know why she likes to do that. “What happened in the dream?”
“Some kind of monster chased me. I couldn’t see it clearly. I was underwater and there was this big shadow in the water. But I knew it was there, and I knew it was chasing me.”
She shoved my shoulder and I stumbled off the sidewalk. “Why didn’t you chase it back? You’re a big dude. Maybe it would be afraid of you.”
“Don’t you get it?” I said. “It was a monster. Something big and ugly and dangerous. It wanted to kill me. It wanted to drown me. It wasn’t funny, Lissa. So stop laughing at me. It … it was so real.”
She rolled her eyes. “Sor-ry. I didn’t think it was funny. I just thought —”
We crossed the street. Our school came into view in the next block. “Do you believe in monsters?” I asked.
“Of course I do,” she said. “Doesn’t everyone?” She pointed. “Here comes one now.”
I groaned when I saw the big guy hurrying toward us. Harlan Egman. A huge, hulking bear who lives in a house close to the school.
How do you spell Harlan? D-I-S-A-S-T-E-R.
It was too late to run. Harlan’s big shoes stomped the grass as he ran at us like a charging bull.
“He’s always chasing after me,” I murmured to Lissa. “Maybe he’s the monster in my dream.”
Before Lissa could reply, Harlan ran right into me, bumping me hard with his big belly, knocking me to the grass onto my butt.
He laughed. “Oops. Couldn’t stop.” He reached out both hands to help pull me back to my feet. But when I was halfway up, he let go, and I fell back down again.
“You’re a klutz, Bean,” Harlan barked. He turned to Lissa, like he expected her to give him trouble.
But she didn’t say a word. Just stared down at me, flat on my back on top of my backpack. I climbed slowly to my feet. I didn’t think any bones were broken. That’s a win when Harlan is around.
He moved up close to me, so close he was stepping on my toes. “How you doing, Bean?” His breath smelled of coffee. The kid drinks coffee in the morning!
“I was doing okay till you showed up,” I muttered.
He laughed as if I’d made a really good joke. Then his smile faded, and his big black eyes narrowed at me. “Did your mom give you lunch money?”
My heart started to do flip-flops. “Yeah,” I said.
“She meant to give it to me,” Harlan said. He stuck out his hand. “Hand it over.”
I took a deep breath. “Harlan, I’m so totally hungry at lunchtime every day because of you.”
He waved his big paw in my face. “Give me the money, and I won’t ask again until tomorrow morning.”
“Ha-ha,” I muttered. “Funny.”
Finally, Lissa spoke up. “Stop picking on Bean,” she told Harlan.
His grin spread over his meaty face. “Okay. I’ll pick on you.” He wrapped his huge hand around her face and gave her a hard push. She staggered back into a tree.
“Hey!” I cried. “Why’d you do that?”
“Because I like to shove?” He lowered his shoulder, darted forward, and rammed into my stomach.
I doubled over. Dropped to the ground. Into a deep mud puddle.
“I hate violence — don’t you?” Harlan growled.
I could feel the wet mud seep through my jeans.
Lissa and I handed over our lunch money. Harlan ran off toward school, crowing like a rooster at the top of his lungs.
“Another awesome day,” I muttered.
Lissa helped pull me to my feet. “You’re almost as heavy as Harlan, Bean. Why don’t you ever stand up to him?”
“Because I’d like to keep my head facing the right way,” I said. I wiped a mud smear from my glasses. Then I tried to brush the mud off my jeans, but it was soaked in.
Lissa straightened the backpack on my shoulders. “Maybe if you stand up to Harlan, your monster dreams will go away,” she said.
“For sure,” I said. “And maybe I’ll sprout wings this afternoon and fly to the moon.”
We walked the rest of the way to school in silence. There wasn’t anything left to say.
I had a lot of grim thoughts. I mean, my dreams were frightening. And my walk to school every morning was frightening, too. Let’s face facts. My life was pretty scary.
And soon it would get a lot scarier.
I got to school and dropped some books in my locker. I heard a couple of girls laughing across the hall, and I knew they were laughing about the huge, wet mud stain on my jeans.
I thought about hiding in my locker till school was over. I really did. I mean, could it be any more embarrassing than to have the whole back of your jeans covered in a big brown stain?
I made my way to Mrs. Fielding’s room, walking sideways. I tried to keep my back against the wall so no one could see the stain.
I edged into the classroom and crab-walked to my seat near the back of the room. Lissa sat in the front. She stared at me the whole time. Couldn’t she figure out why I had to walk this way?
Finally, I dropped into my chair. I was breathing hard, and sweat poured down my cheeks and forehead. This day had to get better — right?
Mrs. Fielding stepped into the room. She is young and awesomely pretty and wears jeans and T-shirts just like the kids. Everyone wants to be in her class because she’s so totally cool.
She was followed by a kid I’d never seen in school before. He had a helmet of brown hair on his head, a pointed nose, and eyes close together so he looked kind of like a bird. He wore a red soccer jersey with the number 00 in white on the front, and faded cargo jeans.
“We have to welcome a new student today,” Mrs. Fielding said, smiling, with her hand on the kid’s shoulder.
Why did he look familiar?
I leaned forward and squinted hard at the kid. He was pale and looked very nervous. His little eyes darted from side to side.
I’ve seen him before, I thought. I know I have.
“This is Monroe Morton,” Mrs. Fielding announced. “Tell us where you come from, Monroe.”
