The First Horror (11 page)

Cally floated through the swirling grays in a kind of half sleep. She didn’t fully awaken until the new family moved in. It was an afternoon in early fall. She heard Mr. Lurie, the real estate agent, outside in the driveway. Peering out of the window, she saw his ghastly smile, saw his gray suit jacket flapping in a strong breeze, saw his bone-pale hand waving as he welcomed the newcomers to the house. The newcomers. Two parents opening the front door, followed by their teenage son.

Good-looking guy, Cally thought, floating close. Wavy black hair. Flashing brown eyes. “The front porch will have to be painted first,” she heard the woman say to Mr. Lurie. “Look around, Brandt,” the father told the boy. “This is our new start, a wonderful new beginning.” Don’t be so sure about that, Cally thought cruelly. Don’t be so sure. Watching Brandt, Cally was already making plans.

TO BE CONTINUED …

“Where do you get your ideas?” That’s the question that R. L. Stine is asked most often. “I don’t know where my ideas come from,” he says. “But I do know that I have a lot more scary stories in my mind that I can’t wait to write.” So far, he has written nearly three dozen mysteries and thrillers for young people, all of them bestsellers. Bob grew up in Columbus, Ohio. Today he lives in an apartment near Central Park in New York City with his wife, Jane, and fourteen-year-old son, Matt.