Vampire Breath (2 page)

A dark tunnel.

I reached out and touched the wall. Stone. Cold stone. Cold and damp.

“We need flashlights,” Cara said softly.

I rubbed the cold, damp stone again. Then I turned to Cara. “You mean we’re
going into the tunnel?” I asked.

Silly question. Of
course
we were going into the tunnel. If you find a
hidden tunnel in your basement, what do you do?

You don’t stand around at the entrance and wonder about it. You
explore
it.

She followed me over to my dad’s workbench. I started pulling open drawers, searching for flashlights.

“Where could that tunnel lead?” Cara asked, frowning thoughtfully. “Maybe it
goes to the house next door. Maybe it connects the two houses together.”

“There
is
no house next door on that side,” I reminded her. “It’s an
empty lot. It’s been empty for as long as I’ve been living here.”

“Well, it
has
to lead somewhere,” she replied. “You can’t just have a
tunnel that goes nowhere.”

“Good thinking,” I replied sarcastically.

She shoved me.

I shoved her back.

Then I spotted a plastic flashlight at the bottom of a tool drawer. Cara and
I both grabbed for it at the same time. We had another battle, a short one this
time. I wrestled the flashlight away from her.

“What’s the big idea?” she demanded.

“I saw this one first,” I said. “Get your own.”

A few seconds later, she found another flashlight on a shelf above the
workbench. She tested it by shining it in my eyes till I screamed at her.

“Okay. Ready,” she said.

We hurried back to the door, our flashlight beams criss-crossing each other
over the basement floor. I stopped at the open door and shot the light into the
tunnel.

Cara’s light bounced off the stone walls. They were covered with a layer of green moss. On the smooth stone floor, small
puddles of water glimmered in the darting rays of our flashlights.

“Damp in there,” I murmured. I took a step into the tunnel, moving my light
along the walls. The air instantly felt colder. I shivered, startled by the
change in temperature.

“Brrrr,” Cara agreed. “It’s like a freezer in here.”

I raised my light and aimed it straight ahead. “I can’t see where the tunnel
ends,” I said. “It could stretch on for miles and miles!”

“Only one way to find out,” Cara replied. She raised her light and blinded me
with it once again. “Ha-ha! Gotcha!”

“Not funny!” I protested. I beamed my light into her eyes. We had a short
flashlight battle. Neither of us won. Now we both had bright yellow spots in our
eyes.

I turned back into the tunnel. “Helllloooooooooo!” I shouted. My voice
echoed again and again. “Annnnnnybody hommmmmmmme?” I called.

Cara shoved me against the damp stone wall. “Shut up, Freddy. Why can’t you
get serious?”

“I
am
serious,” I told her. “Come on. Let’s go.” I bumped her with my
shoulder. I wanted to knock her into the wall. But her feet were planted hard.
She didn’t budge.

I lowered my light to the floor so we could see where we were walking. Cara kept her light aimed straight ahead.

We made our way slowly, stepping around puddles. The air grew even colder as
we walked deeper into the passageway.

Our shoes made soft, scraping sounds. The sounds echoed eerily off the stone
walls. After about a minute, I turned back and glanced to the basement doorway.
It was a narrow rectangle of yellow light, very far away.

The tunnel curved, and the stone walls appeared to close in on us. I felt a
shiver of fear, but I shook it away.

Nothing to be afraid of, I told myself. It’s just an old, empty tunnel.

“This is so weird,” Cara murmured. “Where can it lead?”

“We must be under the empty lot next door,” I guessed. “But why would someone
build a tunnel under an empty lot?”

Cara raised the flashlight to my face. She grabbed my shoulder to stop me.
“Want to turn back?”

“Of course not,” I shot back.

“I don’t, either,” she said quickly. “I just wanted to see if
you
wanted to.”

Our lights played over the damp stone walls as we followed the curve of the
tunnel. We leaped over a wide puddle of water that covered the entire tunnel
floor.

Then the tunnel curved one more time. And a door came into view.

Another dark wood door.

Our flashlight beams slid up and down the door as we hurried up to it.
“Hello, in there!” I called. “Helllooooo!” I pounded on the door.

No reply.

I grabbed the doorknob.

Cara held me back again. “What if your parents get home?” she asked. “They’ll
be really worried. They won’t know where you are.”

“Well, if they come down to the basement, they’ll see the cabinet on the
floor,” I replied. “And they’ll see the open door that leads into the tunnel.
They’ll figure out what happened. And they’ll probably follow us in here.”

“Probably,” Cara agreed.

“We’ve got to see what’s on the other side of this door,” I said eagerly. I
turned the knob and pulled the door open. This door was heavy, too. And it
creaked eerily as it opened, just like the first door.

We raised our flashlights and sent our pale beams of light ahead of us.

“It’s a room!” I whispered. “A room at the end of the tunnel!”

Our lights danced over the smooth, dark walls. Bare walls.

We stepped side by side into the small, square room.

“What’s the big deal? It’s empty,” Cara said. “It’s just an empty room.”

“No, it isn’t,” I replied softly.

I aimed my flashlight at a large object on the floor in the middle of the
room.

We both stared straight ahead at it. Stared at it in silence.

“What is it?” Cara demanded finally.

“A coffin,” I replied.

I felt my heart skip a beat.

I wasn’t scared. But my body started to tingle all over. A cold tingling.
Excitement, I guess.

Cara and I both aimed our flashlight beams at the coffin in the middle of the
floor. The light circles bounced up and down over the dark wood. Our hands were
shaking.

“I’ve never seen a coffin before,” Cara murmured.

“Neither have I,” I confessed. “Except on TV.”

The light reflected off the polished wood. I saw brass handles at both ends
of the long box.

“What if there is a dead person inside it?” Cara asked in a tiny voice.

My heart leaped again. My skin tingled even colder.

“I don’t know,” I whispered. “Who would be buried in a secret room under my
house?”

I raised my light and swept it around the room. Four bare walls. Smooth and
gray. No windows.

No closet. The one and only door led back into the tunnel.

A hidden room at the end of a twisting tunnel. A coffin in a hidden,
underground room…

“I’m sure Mom and Dad don’t know anything about this,” I told Cara. I took a
deep breath and made my way closer to the coffin.

“Where are you going?” Cara demanded sharply. She hung back near the open
doorway.

“Let’s check it out,” I replied, ignoring my pounding heart. “Let’s take a
look inside.”

“Whoa!” Cara cried. “I… uh… I don’t think we should.”

I turned back to her. The light from my flashlight caught her face. I saw her
chin quiver. Her dark eyes narrowed at the coffin.

“You’re afraid?” I demanded. I couldn’t keep a grin from spreading over my
face. Cara afraid of something? This was a moment to remember!

“No way!” she insisted. “I’m not afraid. But I think maybe we should get your
parents.”

“Why?” I asked. “Why do we need my parents around to open up an old coffin?”

I kept the light on her face. I saw her chin quiver again.

“Because you don’t just go around opening coffins,” she replied. She crossed
her arms tightly in front of her.

“Well… if you won’t help me, I’ll do it myself,” I declared. I turned to
the coffin and brushed my hand over the lid. The polished wood felt smooth and cool.

“No—wait!” Cara cried. She hurried up beside me. “I’m not scared. But…
this could be a big mistake.”

“You’re scared,” I told her. “You’re scared big time.”

“I am not!” she insisted.

“I saw your chin tremble. Twice,” I told her.

“So?”

“So you’re scared.”

“No way.” She let out a disgusted sigh. “Here. I’ll prove it to you.”

She handed me her flashlight. Then she grabbed the coffin lid with both hands
and started to lift it open.

“Whoa. It’s really heavy,” she groaned. “Help me.”

A shiver ran down my back.

I shook it off and set the flashlights down on the floor. Then I placed both
hands on the coffin lid.

I leaned forward. Started to push up.

Cara and I both pushed with all our strength.

The heavy wooden lid didn’t budge at first.

But then I heard a creaking sound as it started to lift.

Slowly, slowly, it raised up in our hands.

Leaning over the open coffin, we pushed it, pushed it, until it stood straight up and came to a rest.

We let go of the lid.

I shut my eyes. I didn’t really want to look inside.

But I had to.

I squinted down into the open coffin.

Too dark. I couldn’t see a thing.

Good, I told myself. I let out a sigh of relief.

But then Cara bent down and picked up the flashlights from the floor. She
slipped mine into my hand.

We aimed our lights into the coffin and stared inside.

The coffin was lined in purple velvet. The velvet glowed under the light from
our flashlights. We swept our flashlights up and down the inside of the coffin.

“It—it’s
empty
!” Cara stammered.

“No, it isn’t,” I replied.

My light locked on an object at the foot of the coffin. A spot of blue
against the purple velvet.

As I moved closer, it came into focus.

A bottle. A blue glass bottle.

“Weird!” Cara exclaimed. Now she saw it, too.

“Yes. Totally weird,” I agreed.

We both moved to the foot of the coffin to see it better. I pressed against
the side of the coffin as I leaned close to the bottle. My hands felt frozen
now.

Cara reached past me and picked up the bottle. She held it in the white beam
of light from my flashlight, and we both studied it carefully.

The bottle was round and dark blue. It fit easily in Cara’s hand. The glass
was smooth. The bottle was closed by a blue glass stopper.

Cara shook it. “It’s empty,” she said softly.

“An empty bottle inside a coffin? Definitely weird!” I cried. “Who could have
left it here?”

“Hey—there’s a label.” Cara pointed to a tiny square of paper glued to the
glass. “Can you read it?” she asked. She raised the blue bottle to my face.

The tiny label had faded, old-fashioned-looking letters on it. I squinted
hard.

The words had been rubbed until they were little more than smudges.

I held my light steady and finally managed to make out the words:
“VAMPIRE
BREATH.”

“Huh?” Cara’s mouth opened in shock. “Did you say
Vampire Breath
?”

I nodded. “That’s what it says.”

“But what could that be?” she asked. “What is
Vampire Breath
?”

“Beats me,” I replied, staring into the bottle. “I’ve never seen it
advertised on TV!”

Cara didn’t laugh at my joke.

She turned the bottle in her hands. She was looking for more information. But
the label had only two words printed on it:
“VAMPIRE BREATH”.

I turned my light back into the coffin to see if we had missed anything inside it. I swept the light back and forth. Then I
leaned over the side and rubbed my hand over the purple velvet. It felt smooth
and soft.

When I looked back at Cara, she had tucked her flashlight under her arm. And
she was twisting the glass stopper on top of the bottle.

“Hey—what are you doing?” I cried.

“Opening it,” she replied. “But the top is stuck and I can’t seem to—”

“No—!” I shouted. “Stop!”

Her dark eyes flashed. She locked them on mine. “Scared, Freddy?”

“Yes. I mean—no!” I stammered. “I—uh—I agree with you, Cara. We should
wait for my parents to get home. We should show this to them. We can’t just go
around opening coffins and taking out bottles and—”

I gasped as she tugged at the stopper.

I wasn’t afraid or anything. I just didn’t want to do anything stupid.

“Give me that!” I shouted. I grabbed for the bottle.

“No way!” She swung around to keep me from getting it.

And the bottle fell out of her hand.

We both watched it hit the floor.

It landed on its side. Bounced once. Didn’t break.

But the glass top popped off. Cara and I both stared down at the bottle. Not
breathing. Waiting. Wondering what would happen.

Ssssssssssssssss.

It took me a few seconds to figure out what was making that hissing sound.
Then I saw a smoky green mist shooting up from the bottle.

The thick mist rose up like a geyser, chilly and wet. I felt it float against
my face.

“Ohhhh.” I groaned when its sour smell reached my nose.

I staggered back, choking. I started to gag.

I thrashed both hands wildly, trying to brush the mist away.

“Yuck!” Cara cried, making a sick face. She pressed her fingers over her
nose. “It
stinks
!”

The sickening fog swept around us. In seconds, the mist billowed all over the
room.

“I—I can’t breathe!” I gasped.

I couldn’t see, either. The fog blocked the light from our flashlights!

“Ohhh,” Cara groaned. “It smells so
bad
!” My eyes burned. I could
taste the sour fog on my tongue. I felt sick. My stomach gurgled. My throat tightened.