GOOSEBUMPS SHORTS

BOYS OF THE DEAD

One cloudy day, a teenage boy, called Jerry, was sitting alone on a park bench.

The park was empty and Jerry had no friends to play with.

All he wanted, was to join a group of boys and play football.

He was just about to leave, when a group of nine boys of his age, entered the park. The one in front was carrying a football.

Jerry had watched the boys play football on cloudy days before.

The moment they saw him, they came over.

“You seem kind of lonesome,” the boy with the football said.

“Do you want to come and play football with us?” asked another boy.

Jerry stared at the boys for a moment. They looked friendly and trustworthy enough.

“Okay.”

“We need a tenth player,” said another boy.

“What’s your name?” asked the boy with the ball.

“Jerry.”

“I’m Jake.”

“Pleased to meet you, Jake.”

“Pleased to meet you too, Jerry.”

The other boys then introduced themselves.

Their names were Pete, Harry, Gavin, Steven, Bill, Tony, Henry and Anthony.

“Pleased to meet you all,” Jerry said.

“Come and play ball then,” said Jake.

So Jerry accompanied the boys to an enclosed astro turf, overshadowed by trees.

Once inside, Jake divided the group into teams. He chose Jerry to be on his side.

“You will be goal keeper, Jerry,” he said.

Jerry went over to one of the goals.

When he turned round, he saw a sight, which chilled his bones.

The other boys had formed a semi-circle in front of the goal.

Their faces were no longer cheerful and smiling. Instead, they were cold and menacing.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?” Jerry asked fearfully.

The other boys said nothing.

“Aren’t we going to play football?”

“Oh yes,” Jake said in a chilling voice. “We’ll be playing football.”

“When you’re one of us,” said Tony.

Jerry could make neither head nor tail of that.

“I don’t understand,” he said.

“The thing is,” said Bill. “We are not normal boys.”

“Not normal,” Steven said.

The boys seemed normal to Jerry, but their menacing facial expressions made him half think otherwise.

“In what way?” he asked.

“We are not of the living,” Gavin said.

“We’re dead,” said Henry.

“All dead,” Pete said.

Suddenly, something totally horrifying happened.

The boys turned deathly pale and their eyes glowed blinding red.

Jerry was too petrified to say anything, let alone scream.

“Now you will join us,” said Jake.

“The football players of the dead,” Anthony said.

“We need a tenth player,” said Harry.

Jerry knew then what fate awaited him. There was no escaping it. It was inevitable.

The hungry-looking boys closed in for the kill.

THE DEAD COME OUT TO KILL

One night, a pair of thirteen-year-old twins entered a cemetery. Their names were Tom and Sarah Hardy.

“I still don’t think we should be doing this,” said Tom, who was holding a torch.

“Why? Are you afraid the dead will rise up to get us?” Sarah said sarcastically.

“No.”

“Stop moaning then. Enjoy the adventure.”

“Fine.”

The twins went from one grave to the next, examining the headstones.

“You see, Tom, there’s nothing to fear.”

Sarah had spoken too soon, for she and her brother came across two empty graves at the end of a row. The disturbing thing, was the fact that their own names were on the headstones.

“I don’t get it,” Tom said.

“This has to be a practical joke.”

“Well, if it is, then the joker has gone a very long way to frighten us.”

Sarah had a thought.

“Maybe we’re not be the only people around here called Tom and Sarah Hardy,” she said.

“In a town as small as this?”

Suddenly, the torch went out.

“Oh no,” said Tom.

“Now the dead will come out to get us,” Sarah said.

What came next, totally changed her attitude.

Dead people of all ages rose up out of every grave in the cemetery. Hundreds of them there were.

“Let’s get out of here,” Tom said.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

Tom and Sarah made a break for the cemetery entrance, but it was too late.

The dead swarmed around them on all sides and closed in to eat their victims.

The truth was all too clear now to Tom and Sarah.

Those empty graves were indeed for them.

DON’T LOOK IN THE MIRROR

One afternoon, a fourteen-year-old boy, called Lucas, entered an antiques shop. With him, were his parents, Barney and Molly.

Barney and Molly liked nothing more than to visit antique shops, wherever they went.

Lucas found it most annoying, because they always dragged him along.

This time however, he came across something, which aroused his interest.

Standing in a corner, was a large, elliptical mirror, about six feet tall. It was surrounded by a large, ornate gold frame.

“That looks interesting,” Lucas said.

“So you’ve finally found something that you like?” asked Barney.

“Yes.”

“A very old mirror that is,” the shop owner said.

Lucas went and stood in front of the mirror.

As he stared into it, something horrifying happened.

His reflection transformed into a werewolf.

Lucas screamed.

“What is it, Son?” asked Barney.

“My reflection,” Lucas replied fearfully.

“What about it?” asked Molly.

“It transformed into a werewolf.”

Barney and Molly stared at one another in disbelief.

“Your son must be imagining things,” the shop owner said.

“He’s been watching too many horror movies,” said Molly.

“Too many for my liking,” Barney said.

Lucas looked in the mirror again, only to see his true reflection. This time, his reflection did not change.

“Huh!”

“What do you see, Lucas?” asked Molly.

“My own reflection.”

“You must have imagined it, Son,” Barney said.

Lucas didn’t believe his father.

“I swear, I did not imagine it.”

“Come now, Son,” said Molly.

“But – “

“That’s enough, Lucas,” Barney said firmly.

“Let’s get Lucas out of here,” said Molly.

So Barney and Molly left the shop with their frightened son.

Lucas didn’t say a single word for the rest of the day and he refused tea and supper.

He couldn’t forget what he had seen in the mirror.

That night, Lucas found it very hard to get off to sleep.

He tossed and turned violently and sweated all over.

When he finally did manage to get to sleep, something horrifying happened.

He transformed into a werewolf.

His demonic snarls and growls woke his parents, who were in the room next door.

Barney and Molly got up and went to their son’s room.

“Are you alright in there, Lucas?” asked Barney.

No reply came.

“Lucas?” Molly asked.

Still no reply.

“Something’s wrong,” said Molly.

She and Barney entered the room and lay eyes on their transformed son.

The ghastly sight made them scream the house down.

What they didn’t realise, was that the werewolf was Lucas.

Worst of all, Lucas didn’t recognise his parents.

He emitted a deafening, demonic roar and lunged at his father.

PHANTOM HOUNDS

The sound of slow footsteps could be heard on the misty moor.

The footsteps belonged to a pair of non-identical teenage twins, called Judy and James.

A few more feet and the twins came to a stop.

“We’re lost,” said Judy.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“This is all your fault, James.”

“My fault?”

“Yes, your fault. Mum and Dad told us not to come out on the moor by ourselves.”

“So what.”

“Now we’re lost out in the mist. We don’t know which way home is. And the moor is no safe place to be in these conditions, as you very well know. If we fall off a cliff, or get stuck in a bog – “

“Or get eaten by the phantom hounds.”

Judy lost her rag.

“Don’t be an idiot James,” she fumed. “You know as well as I do, that the legend about the hounds isn’t true.”

At that moment, there sounded a loud, demonic, howl, not far away.

The noise frightened the lives out of the twins.

“What on Earth was that?” James asked fearfully.

“Must have been some kind of dog,” replied Judy, who was equally as afraid.

“Didn’t sound like any dog we know of.”

Another howling noise sounded, only this time, it came from somewhere much closer.

The twin’s fears rose dramatically. Even more so when they heard panting and growling noises and quick footsteps approaching.

“Run!” Judy said in terror.

She and James sprinted as fast as they could to escape whatever was approaching.

At one point, Judy fell over into a patch of sticky wet mud.

“Help me up.”

James helped Judy to her feet.

“Come on,” he said. “Faster.”

But it was too late.

A pair of enormous, demonic black hounds with flaming red eyes and ferocious teeth appeared.

The twins screamed.

There was nowhere for them to hide and running was

out of the question.

All they could do, was await their unavoidable fates. Ghastly fates they were going to be too.

The phantom hounds emitted thunderous roars and pounced on their victims.

BE CAREFUL WHAT YOU READ

The sounds of quick footsteps could be heard coming along a misty pavement.

One pair of footsteps belonged to a twelve-year-old boy, called Marcus.

The other footsteps belonged to three older boys, who were chasing after Marcus.

Marcus was losing his breath and the other boys were gaining.

He turned a corner and went through the nearest door. Just in time.

The door happened to be the entrance, to an old bookshop.

Books were crammed onto shelves all along the walls. More books were stacked on tables and crammed into boxes on the floor.

“Is everything alright kid?” asked the owner, who was sitting behind a table at the back of the shop.

“No. Three other boys are after me.”

“I see. Come and sit yourself down.”

Marcus sat in an old empty armchair in a corner by a

door at the back of the shop.

“Have a read of this for a moment,” said the owner.

He handed a small, thin book to Marcus.

The book was called (BOOK OF THE DEAD).

There was no writing on the back, no picture on the front and the author’s name wasn’t on it.

For some reason, the title disturbed Marcus.

He opened the book and began to read.

CHAPTER 1

One morning, a twelve-year-old boy was running through a misty street.

Three older boys were after him.

The younger boy turned a corner and entered a bookshop.

The owner told him to sit down and handed him a book called (BOOK OF THE DEAD).

Marcus was astounded to the point of disbelief. Was the younger boy in the story really him? It couldn’t be. Could it?

Now Marcus was starting to feel very uneasy.

He wanted to tell the owner, but he wasn’t there.

Then something uncanny happened. His surroundings faded and he vanished into thin air.

When he reappeared, he found himself in a moonlit woodland clearing, tied to a stake.

That was bad enough, but worst of all, there were hundreds of zombie children surrounding him.

Marcus was petrified by the ghastly sight.

Then something else happened.

The bookshop owner appeared out of thin air.

Marcus couldn’t believe his eyes.

“What’s going on?” he asked fearfully. “Where am I?”

“The world of the living dead,” the shop owner replied.

Marcus was horrified.

“How did I end up here?”

“Through an inter-dimensional portal.”

“A portal?”

“(BOOK OF THE DEAD) is a portal to this world.”

“How did you get here? Are you dead too?”

“No, I’m not dead. I travel between this world and the world of the living, where I become the shop owner.

“These children on the other hand, came here the same way you did. They came into my shop, started to read the book and ended up here. As soon as they arrived, they joined the living dead.

“Now it is your turn.”

Marcus watched in mortal terror, as the zombie children moved in to devour him.

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