Authors: R.L. Stine
Ghouls Gone Wild
Mostly Ghostly series!
Mostly Ghostly #1:
Who Let the Ghosts Out?
Mostly Ghostly #2:
Have You Met My Ghoulfriend?
Mostly Ghostly #3:
One Night in Doom House
Mostly Ghostly #4:
Little Camp of Horrors
Mostly Ghostly #5:
Ghouls Gone Wild
AND COMING SOON:
Mostly Ghostly #6:
Let's Get This Party Haunted!
M
Y NAME IS
M
AX
D
OYLE
, and some scary things have been happening to me.
To begin with, something followed me when I was walking home from hanging out with my best friend, Aaron, at his house. I don't think it was human. I think it was a ghost.
And it wasn't friendly.
The sun had set. Dark storm clouds hung low in the sky. The wind howled around me as I started to walk the two blocks to my house.
I kept my head down and walked with my hands in my pockets. How did it suddenly get so cold? I wondered.
I walked past a few houses—and that's when I heard a scraping sound behind me.
I spun around. Anyone there?
I saw a blur of motion. Something moved behind a low hedge.
I shrugged and started walking again. But now I was listening carefully.
And again, I heard a scrape. A few soft thuds. The sound of footsteps.
Someone was definitely following me.
I stopped. And the sounds behind me stopped too.
I spun around. Hard to see anything in this pitch-black night.
The dark clouds seemed to lower over me. The wind howled and shook the trees.
A chill tightened the back of my neck.
I heard a cough from behind a nearby pine tree.
“Aaron?” I called, shouting over the wind. “Hey—Aaron? Is that you?”
A head poked out from behind the tree.
I squinted in the heavy darkness, trying to see the face.
A boy?
“Is that you, Aaron?” My voice came out shaky and high. My throat suddenly felt tight.
He stepped away from the tree. Yes. A boy. But not Aaron. A boy dressed all in black.
He took a few steps toward me. His face was hidden in shadow. Then moonlight washed over him and I saw his face clearly.
An old man's face!
Eyes deep in their sockets. Skin pale and sagging. Mouth turned down in a furious scowl.
A boy with an old man's face!
I turned and ran. My legs felt wobbly and weak. It was hard to keep them moving.
I could hear his pounding footsteps. He was coming after me!
What did he want? Why was he chasing me?
I didn't stop to find out. Gasping for breath, I forced myself to run harder.
I ducked my head as large raindrops began to patter down. The sidewalk ended. I darted across the street. Only half a block to go.
I heard his footsteps on the pavement behind me. He was catching up. He looked like an old man, but he was running as fast as a boy!
Leaning forward, I tried to burn more speed. But I could barely breathe.
And then I let out a cry as my feet slid out from under me. No way to stop myself. I fell hard. Facedown. In a deep muddy trench.
“Oww!”
Gasping, choking, I struggled to my knees. And stared up at the figure in black, his face covered in darkness.
“Who are you?” I cried. “What do you want?”
Silence. He didn't move. The only sounds now were my wheezing breaths and the pelting of raindrops all around.
And then finally, he whispered, whispered in a low, hoarse voice,
“I'm watching…I'm watching…”
S
KIP TO THE NEXT DAY
.
I didn't have time to think about the creepy boy in black. Why? Because the biggest day of my life was coming up. And that was all I could think about.
“Easy, boy. Easy.”
I slid the leash off our dog, Buster, and backed away. “Easy, boy.”
Buster stared up at me with his evil red eyes. He's a big, furry wolfhound, and it's my job to take him for a walk in the afternoon.
He pulled back his lips, showed his teeth, and growled. He was trying to decide which part of my body would make a tasty snack. My problem with Buster is he thinks I'm a chew toy.
Luckily, the dog turned away and trotted to the back of the yard. I started into the house, but the kitchen door swung open, and my brother, Colin, burst out.
“Hey, fat face,” he said. “I read this new book you'll like.”
“Don't call me fat face,” I said.
“It's called
Don't Hurt Me
, by I. Bruce Eazly.” Colin let out a loud donkey laugh. “Think fast, Max!” he shouted.
I didn't have time to move. He swung his arm back and heaved a bright red Frisbee at my head.
I tried to duck. Not fast enough. The Frisbee clonked me hard on the forehead.
Next thing I knew, I was flat on my back in the grass. The sky was spinning above me, and red and yellow stars were twinkling above my head.
Colin laughed again. “Good catch, ace!” he said. He pulled me to my feet. “You shoulda read that book, Maxie. You're gonna have a big bruise.”
“A bruise? But I'm on TV tomorrow!” I cried. You know I'm giving the school trophy to the mayor tomorrow.”
“That's gonna swell up really huge,” Colin said. “It will show up nice and big on TV. Mayor Stank won't be able to see your face. He'll think you're some kind of mushroom life.”
I sighed. “Oh, wow. How could you
do
that to me, Colin?”
“Just trying to play a little Frisbee, punk,” Colin said. “Having fun with my kid brother.”
He gave me a friendly slap on the back—so hard that he left fingerprints.
“You're just jealous,” I said. “Because I'm going to be on TV and you're not.”
Colin grinned at me. “Yeah. You got that right,” he said. “I'm real jealous of you. Know why?”
“Why?” I said.
“I'm jealous because Buster likes you so much.”
He turned and cupped his hands around his mouth. Then he shouted to the dog, “Get him, Buster! Get him, boy! Get Max!”
I staggered back as Buster came galloping across the grass. Panting with excitement, the huge beast leaped into the air. He sank his teeth into my neck and threw me down to the ground with his heavy front paws.
“My throat!” I gasped, trying to wrestle the dog off me. “Help! He's got me by the throat!”
I saw the kitchen door swing open. Dad poked his head out.
“Help!” I cried.
“Max, come in for dinner!” Dad shouted. “And stop teasing the dog!”
A
FTER DINNER
, I
WENT
up to my room to practice my speech.
I'd been practicing for days, but I really wanted to get it right. Tomorrow was the dedication of the new swimming pool at Jefferson Elementary. And I—Max Doyle—was giving the official school trophy to Mayor Stank, who helped raise money to build the pool. What an honor!
Why was I picked to give the trophy? Because I'm at the top of my sixth-grade class.
The kids all call me Brainimon because I'm the class brain. Tomorrow the whole school would watch me give the trophy to the mayor at the new pool. And the ceremony would also be on Channel 600, our local TV station.
At dinner, Mom said, “I hope all this attention doesn't give you a swelled head, Max.”
But of course, I already had a
real
swelled head, thanks to Colin!
In my room, I went over my speech again and again. “Mayor Stank, thank you for helping us all
make a real splash. I'm honored to give you this silver trophy …”
My computer bleeped. I saw that I had an instant message from Aaron.
“R U nervous?” he asked.
I typed back: “Who? Me? No way.”
Aaron probably knew I was lying. He's a pretty smart kid, even though he's a little weird.
How is he weird? Well, for one thing, he always wears swim goggles to school. And he keeps them on all day. And he only wears shorts, never long pants. Even when it's ten degrees out and his legs are turning blue.
Kinda weird, right? But he's the only best friend I've got.
“Y don't U do a magic trick for the mayor?” Aaron wrote. “Make his hat disappear or something. That would be totally cool!”
I'm really into magic. I want to be a great magician someday. And I'd love to do a magic trick on TV.
But I decided tomorrow was not the right time for it.
I typed back to Aaron: “I don't think he wears a hat.”
Aaron disappeared. He always does that. He never says goodbye or anything. Just vanishes.
I moved to the mirror and practiced my speech a few more times. I practiced handing the big
trophy to the mayor. Then I practiced smiling into the TV camera.
I yawned. Enough practice, I decided. I've got it down. I'm ready to go.
Piece of cake, I told myself.
You'll be awesome tomorrow, Max. You'll be a star.
How could I know I was hours away from the biggest
disaster
of my life?
T
HE NEXT MORNING
, I stepped into the new Jefferson Elementary Natatorium (that's a fancy word for indoor swimming pool). I had my fingers crossed.
Please
, I thought.
Please
, don't let me drop the trophy on my foot or something.
The huge new building was painted in cheerful blues and yellows and had a cool roof that we could slide open on sunny days! Like today. A beautiful, warm day.
Sunlight glimmered on the pool water in bright patches of gold light. I took a deep breath. I love that chlorine smell!
All the Jefferson students were packed tightly around three sides of the pool. Their voices echoed off the tile walls.
At one end, I saw a tall podium. The silver school trophy stood on a table beside it.
I started to feel even more nervous as I walked up to the podium. My mouth felt dry. And my heart started fluttering like a butterfly's wings.
Two TV workers were busy plugging in cables
and moving lights. Behind them, I saw our principal, Mrs. Wright, talking to Mayor Stank. They were laughing about something.
Mayor Stank is a short, chubby guy. He's shaped kinda like a turkey. He wore a tight gray suit with a gray vest. His bald head glowed like a lightbulb under the bright sunlight.
I walked closer. The mayor's tiny black eyes squinted over a chubby, round nose. His thin black mustache—two little lines—twitched as he talked. Beads of sweat clung to his forehead.
I hung back. But Mrs. Wright greeted me and pulled me over to the mayor. “Mayor Stank, this is Max Doyle,” she said. “Max was chosen to present the trophy because he's at the top of his class.”
Mayor Stank shook hands with me. His hand was soft and sweaty. “Congratulations, Max,” he said.
He stared at the swollen bulge that Colin had left on my forehead. “I see you have a very big head,” he said. “Lots of room for brains!” He erupted in a booming laugh that echoed off the tiles.
I gritted my teeth. Nice work, Colin, I thought.
Mrs. Wright stepped up to the podium. She waved her hands to signal for everyone to quiet down. The TV camera was pointed at her. She gave the mayor a welcoming speech. And
she talked about how wonderful the new natato-rium was.
Then Mayor Stank stepped up to the podium. He gave a speech too. As he talked, his big belly bobbed up and down inside the tight suit. And sweat rolled down his bald head.
I didn't hear a word he said. I was busy practicing
my
speech. I repeated it in my head, over and over.
And then I heard applause. Mrs. Wright gave me a little shove. “Go, Max.”
My turn!
I took a deep breath and stepped up beside the mayor. I cleared my throat and prepared to give my talk.
And that's when I saw the two ghosts pop up at my sides.
“What are you
doing
here?” I cried.
I
HAD
BEGGED
THEM
not to come. But here they were, grinning at me.
They haunt me. Wherever I go.
Their names are Nicky and Tara Roland. Nicky is my age—eleven. Tara is nine. They appeared in my room one night. They said they used to live in my house.