Read There's Something Out There Online
Authors: P.J. Night
There's Something Out There
DO YOU BELIEVE?
Jenna Walker has always been fascinated by the Marked Monsterâthe scarred half-bird half-beast creature said to roam the forests around her hometown. Is the Marked Monster real? Or is it just a silly story meant to scare kids? Jenna decides to find out once and for all with a campout where she and her friends can search for the legendary beast. But as Jenna starts to lelearn more about the Marked Monster, she realizes that this legend might be more than just myth, and more sinister than she ever could have imagined. Will Jenna meet the Marked Monster face to face? And will she be marked for life?
This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Copyright © 2011 by Simon & Schuster, Inc.
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
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YOU'RE INVITED TO A CREEPOVER is a trademark of Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Text by Ellie O'Ryan
Designed by Nicholas Sciacca
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Night, P. J. There's something out there / by P.J. Night. â1st ed. p. cm. â(You're invited to a creepover) Summary: On a sleepover at her house, Jenna and her friends go in search of the legendary Marked Monster that is said to roam the forests around her hometown. [1. SleepoversâFiction. 2. MonstersâFiction. 3. Horror stories.] I. Title. PZ7.N576Th 2012
[Fic]âdc23 2011024190Â Â Â ISBN 978-1-4424-4148-4Â Â Â ISBN 978-1-4424-4149-1 (eBook)
What happened in the woods that night changed everything, forever, and if the girl had known what was going to happen, she never would have left her house.
But she didn't know, see? She didn't have a clue what was waiting for her, so when she heard the scratching, she thought it was the stray cat that had been coming around. The one with the tattered ear and the hungry eyes.
The sun was just about to set. She could see it still shining in the west, like an orange ball of fire on the verge of falling into space.
So
, she thought,
I'll just put some food at the edge of the yard. For the cat
.
She poured a cup of kitty chow into a plastic bag and grabbed her coat. Then she walked out the back door,
into the dying light, like it was no big deal, because it wasn't ⦠not yet.
At the edge of the yard, she looked for the cat by the tree stump where it usually waited for her. The cat's fur was so black that at night, all you could see was its eyes gleaming in the darkness. But tonight, the cat was nowhere to be seen.
“Here, kitty, kitty,” she called softly, kneeling down and snapping her fingers like she always did.
Still the cat did not appear.
The girl sighed. The air was damp, as if the fog were rushing in faster tonight than usual, hardly waiting for the sun to finish setting before blanketing the woods in a thick mist that was impossible to see through. She felt so sorry for the poor cat, sleeping in the woods all alone, even when it was cold or windy or wet.
Then she heard it again: the scratching. Just beyond the tree line. Andâwhat was that? A whimper?
The girl glanced behind her at the house, still all lit up, so warm and cozy. She wanted to go back there.
So why was she walking toward the woods?
Because she couldn't bear it, the thought that the cat was sick or hurt, or in trouble.
If she could help the little cat, she would.
“Here, kitty,” she called again, pushing through the tree limbs. “I won't hurt you. Here, kitty.”
Silence.
That the woods should be so chillingly quiet, the girl realized, was weird. Very weird. But instead of feeling afraid, she was curious.
She should have been afraid.
On she continued into the woods, all the way to the clearing where she'd spent so many summer nights on campouts, telling stories in the flickering light of a campfire. She knew that clearing as well as she knew her own bedroom, but she'd never seen it the way she did tonight.
It was hard to see through the mist, but she could tell right away that the clearing was not empty.
And whatever was in it was a
lot
bigger than a stray cat.
The girl hid behind a thick-trunked tree, her heart thundering in her chest, and stared with wide eyes. She couldn't have looked away even if she'd wanted to.
Well, to be honest, she did want to look away. But her eyes were locked on the creature, and she wondered, suddenly, if she was dreaming.
But she knew that that was nothing more than a
wish, an empty hope. Because nothing had ever felt this realâfrom the painful pounding of her heart to the bitter taste of fear in the back of her throat.
The monster was eating ⦠something. Dark red liquid dripped from its mouth, soaking into the dirt beneath it. The girl's stomach lurched, but still she did not move.
Then, to her horror, the creature reared up on its hind legs at the same moment the mist cleared. In the dim twilight, she saw more of it than she ever wanted to: an enormous lizardlike body, covered in scales and slime.
Two tremendous, leathery wings, folded tight against its back.
Two thick, stumpy arms; the end of each one curved with razor-sharp talons, dripping ⦠something. Something foul.
Back legs that rippled with muscle.
A knobby, bumpy head, with two red-rimmed, beady eyes, and a mouthful of fangs.
And a tail that was studded with spikes as long as the girl's forearm.
Perhaps the worst, though, the memory she would never forget: Along its waxy underbelly ran an angry,
raised scar that was barely visible in the fading light. It was obviously an old injury; she could tell from the way the skin puckered around it. Yet still it oozed as if it would never heal.
The creature was like nothing she had ever seen before: part bird, part lizard.
All monster.
It tilted its head to the side, rotating slowly ⦠slowly ⦠untilâno, it couldn't beâwaitâit wasâit was
staring right at her
, the pupil of that horrible eye dilating as it focused on what it wanted.
Then, more powerfully than she ever could have imagined, the creature leaped through the clearing, directly to the tree she was hiding behind. One of its talons sliced through the darkness but somehow missed her, and got stuck in the thick tree trunk instead of in the girl's skull.
Suddenly she was no longer rooted to the ground in terror; she was running for her life, crashing through the underbrush back to the safety of her house. The creature struggled to get free, screaming in frustration as it watched its prey escape. And it sounded likeâ
It sounded likeâ
“Aiiiii-ck-ck-ck-ck!”
Jenna Walker shrieked, so shrilly and bone-chillingly that all the other girls cried out in horror and clapped their hands over their ears. A satisfied smile flickered across Jenna's face. Her story was definitely the scariest one by far, and she hadn't even gotten to the really freaky part yet.
“Somehow, thanks to the trunk of that old pine tree, the girl made it back to her house,” Jenna continued in a slow, quiet voice that made everyone else go completely silent. “She waited all night for the creature to follow her there, to smash through the windows. But it never did.
“And the next day, in the bright morning sun, she dared to step outside again. The woods were full of sound: chattering squirrels, chirping birds, scurrying
chipmunks. The girl used the sounds to gauge the danger and decided that if the woodland creatures felt safe enough to be out, she should feel safe too. So, one step at a time, she returned to the clearing.”
