Read Nightmare in 3-D Page 6


  Dodged at my face.

  Clawed into my skin.

  I stumbled backward, pawing frantically at my head.

  Then I heard a terrifying sound.

  And I knew we were doomed.

  17

  CRUNNCH.

  I heard a crunch. Underfoot.

  And I knew what I had stepped on. With a sinking feeling I snatched my glasses up from the floor. Maybe only one lens broke, I silently wished. Maybe only one.

  Nope.

  Both of them—smashed.

  Yes. We’re both doomed, I thought.

  I grabbed the dish towel again. This time I threw it over my head, trying to protect myself from the stinging creatures.

  Think, Wes. Think, I ordered myself. They are bugs. How do you get rid of bugs?

  I dashed to the wall switch and flicked on the ceiling light.

  Yes! The mantises flew toward the light and began to circle. A few bounced off the bulb and dropped to the table. Then they staggered up and launched themselves at the glowing bulb again.

  They were under control. For now.

  Lauren pulled her head out from under the tap. Water streamed down her long hair. Down her face. “Where are they?”

  I pointed to the ceiling light.

  Lauren grinned. “Great! Now all we have to do is find your glasses!”

  “Uh. I already did,” I admitted. I held them up.

  “Oh, no! Now what do we do?” Lauren wailed. “Do you have an extra pair?”

  “That was my extra pair,” I answered.

  I peered up at the insects, squinting into the light. The buzzing noise suddenly changed to a low humming sound.

  My eyes felt itchy, but I kept staring—because I noticed a small change.

  “Something’s happening,” I murmured.

  “What?” Lauren grabbed my arm. “What’s happening. Tell me!”

  “They’re changing.”

  “Changing? How?” Lauren demanded. “They’re not growing, are they? Please, don’t tell me they’re growing.”

  “No. They’re definitely not growing. But they’re not getting smaller, either.” I blinked several times. “They’re turning into those dots. It’s just like what happened in the cafeteria!”

  “Yes!” Lauren cried. “That means they’re disappearing!”

  “I don’t think so, Lauren.”

  “Well, what are they doing?” she cried.

  “They’re still up there. Humming. Orange, pink, yellow, and green humming dots,” I explained. “Now they’re swirling around the light. Really fast. The colors are almost melting together.”

  “Maybe they’re dying,” Lauren suggested.

  “No!” I exclaimed. “No! They’re forming one big ball of color now! One big ball of green!”

  “Oh, n-noooo,” Lauren wailed. “Look!”

  I ripped my eyes away from the swirling green ball of color.

  “Look!” Lauren cried again, pointing to the table with a trembling hand. “The poster,” she croaked.

  I shifted my gaze to the table.

  The pile of tiny paper scraps had vanished.

  The poster had grown back—in one whole piece.

  With the big white mantis-shaped spot in the middle.

  18

  I raised my eyes to the green ball.

  It fell to the floor with a dull thump.

  Two black feelers thrust out of the top.

  Six long bristly legs burst out of the back.

  The pincers on the front legs snapped open and closed.

  “Get out!” I yelled at Lauren. “Get out while you can! The mantis is back!”

  “I’m staying!” she shouted. “Where is it? What should I do?”

  “It’s coming this way. Circle around the table and stand on the other side of the room. Maybe it won’t be able to decide which of us to go for!”

  Lauren slid around the table. “What’s it doing now? Do you think it’s going to attack?”

  I backed up until I hit the wall. “It’s so close I can’t move.” I gulped. “It’s in a praying position.”

  “Wes, play dead!” Lauren cried. “It wants to eat food that’s still alive!”

  I slumped onto the floor and rolled my eyes back in my head. I tried to hold my breath.

  For a second nothing happened. Then I felt the mantis’s cold feelers probing my neck.

  It’s trying to decide if I’m alive, I thought. If I move a muscle, it will attack.

  I could feel its hot breath on my cheek.

  Its saliva drip down my face.

  My eyelids twitched as its creepy pincers crawled along my skin.

  I wanted to bat it away.

  Don’t move. Don’t move.

  I wanted to breathe. My chest felt tight. My lungs were about to burst.

  Don’t move! Don’t move!

  Slowly I felt the mantis slide away. I heard him slither in his drool across the kitchen floor.

  I opened one eye.

  I couldn’t spot the mantis. Where was it?

  My lungs were definitely going to explode now. I took a tiny breath. Then I opened my other eye and lifted my head slightly off the floor.

  Now I could see it.

  But Lauren couldn’t. She was watching me. Biting her lip. Twisting her hands together. Worrying about me.

  And there was the mantis—standing next to her. Standing next to Lauren—who was breathing. Moving. Alive.

  I slowly pushed myself off the floor.

  “Don’t move!” I mouthed.

  Lauren understood.

  I crept over to the mantis. Slowly. Very slowly.

  It was perched next to the stove. Rocking back and forth.

  Rubbing its pincers together.

  “Hey, what are you guys doing? Why are you crawling on the floor?” a voice called from the doorway.

  Vicky.

  The mantis snapped its head toward my sister. I grabbed Lauren’s arm and pulled her away from the huge insect.

  “Wow! Your glasses are ruined,” Vicky said, lifting the broken frames from the table. “Wes, you’re in major trouble!”

  The mantis’s feelers waved with fury. Its eyes darted from me to Lauren to Vicky and back.

  “I’ve never broken my glasses,” Vicky bragged. “Never even lost them. Wait until Mom and Dad see.” She pushed her glasses up.

  I slid along the wall toward her. Then I jumped up, grabbed her glasses off her face, and pushed her away.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” she yelled. “Those are mine!”

  She tried to snatch them back.

  “Ssh!” I warned. I held them high over my head.

  She hopped up and down, but she couldn’t reach them.

  “Vicky, wait outside. I’ll give them back in a minute,” I promised.

  “I’m not leaving without my glasses!” Vicky folded her arms in front of her. “And you’d better not break them!”

  I forced her glasses on my face. They were way too small. They pinched my nose. And they didn’t quite reach my ears.

  “You look stupid,” Vicky said.

  “Quiet!” I warned. I had to concentrate.

  I stared at the mantis.

  I moved closer to it and stared really hard.

  I strained to see every detail.

  Focus. Focus. Don’t blink.

  I moved in closer.

  I stared.

  Disappear. Please—disappear back into the poster.

  This has to work, I told myself. It has to.

  But the mantis didn’t move.

  19

  “The glasses aren’t working!” I moaned. “They’re just not working.”

  The mantis lashed out—so fast I didn’t see it coming. But I felt it.

  It had me by the neck. Choking off my air.

  Its pincers raked my skin.

  Its huge eyes gleamed greedily into mine.

  Its jaws snapped open and shut. Then it lifted me right off the floor.

  La
uren and Vicky gasped as I rose up.

  “He’s floating!” Vicky cried.

  I kicked helplessly.

  “Wes, you’re scaring me!” Vicky cried.

  “Keep staring, Wes! Keep staring!” Lauren yelled.

  I gazed directly into the mantis’s face. Colors swirled through its deep black eyes. Its eyes looked like two giant kaleidoscopes now. Swirling colors in orange, pink, yellow, green.

  Swirling colors!

  Colored dots!

  “It’s working!” I cried. “I think it’s working!”

  Vicky’s glasses were working. They were weaker than mine—so they were just taking longer!

  Fluorescent dots began to race over the mantis’s legs and feelers. Over its whole body!

  Then the dots drifted apart.

  I crumpled to the floor, but I kept Vicky’s glasses pressed against my face.

  Dots bounced off the refrigerator. They hit the screen door. They whirled and swirled like mini-tornadoes through the kitchen.

  “Give me my glasses back now,” Vicky whined. “You’re acting crazy.”

  “Just one more minute, Vicky,” I begged. “One more minute.” I knew I had almost defeated it.

  “Wes! The poster!” Lauren exclaimed, dashing over to the table.

  I forced myself up and peered over her shoulder.

  The white mantis-shaped spot had filled in with color. The mantis was back where he belonged.

  Sal had definitely been right. Some things are better left in two dimensions.

  I collapsed into a kitchen chair.

  “We won! We won!” Lauren cheered.

  “Not yet.” I sighed. “We still have to get rid of the poster.”

  “Give me my glasses back, Wes.” Vicky stomped her feet on the floor.

  “Not yet, Vicky,” I murmured.

  “I’ll get Mom and Dad. They’ll make you.”

  “Where are Mom and Dad?” I asked.

  “They’re outside in the front yard burning a pile of leaves,” Vicky replied. Then she ran out, slamming the screen door behind her.

  I turned to Lauren and smiled. I eyed the poster. “Let’s burn it!”

  “Yesss!” Lauren held up her palm and we high-fived.

  We dashed out to the front yard. “Hi, Mom!” I called. “Where’s Dad?”

  “He’s in the back, collecting more leaves,” she answered. “Wes, what are you doing with your sister’s glasses?” Vicky stood beside her—squinting at me triumphantly.

  “Uhhh. It’s part of a science project,” I blurted out.

  “For Mr. Gosling’s class. Optics,” Lauren added.

  “Please let me wear them for five more minutes, Vicky,” I pleaded.

  “Let your brother wear them for a few minutes, Vicky. It’s for school.”

  Vicky dug her foot into the dirt and kicked a chunk of it on my jeans.

  “Come on, Vicky,” Mom said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “Let’s help Dad with the leaves in the backyard. Then we’ll all go in and have some ice cream.”

  “Can I throw them into the fire? Can I have chocolate-banana-chunk? Can I give Clawd some?”

  “No, yes, and yes,” Mom replied as they made their way around back.

  I peered up at the sky. It was almost dark. A full orange moon glowed above.

  I turned to Lauren. “Okay,” I said. “Here goes nothing.” I tossed the poster into the center of the fire.

  The flames caught on the edge of the poster. Then there was a bang—like a firecracker shooting off.

  Lauren and I jumped back.

  “Guess we’re kind of nervous.” Lauren giggled nervously. “I don’t see anything weird happening. Do you?”

  “No,” I answered. Then I sniffed the air. It suddenly smelled bad. Really bad. Like the mantis’s sour breath.

  The fire engulfed the poster now. Furious flames shot through it and licked the sky.

  Smoke began to stream from the center of the leaf pile. Greenish-gray smoke. It rose fast—in a long, straight ribbon.

  Then I heard the high-pitched buzzing. Louder. Louder. Louder. I wanted to cover my ears. But I had to hold Vicky’s glasses on.

  Lauren glanced at me. “You okay?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  The smoke drifted higher in the sky. Drifted past the full, bright, orange moon. Then it began to curl.

  The smoke curled and curled—into the form of a perfect praying mantis. Huge and dark, it floated in front of the moon.

  Then it disappeared.

  I turned to Lauren. “Did you see that?” I asked.

  “See what?” she said.

  “Never mind,” I replied.

  No one else could see the mantis.

  No one else could hear its terrible buzzing.

  No one else could make it come alive.

  The mantis was my own private nightmare.

  A nightmare in 3-D.

  And it was over.

  Or was it?

  20

  Two weeks later Lauren came home from school with me. We planned to do some homework together.

  “Wes, you got a package today,” Mom said when she walked into the kitchen. She set down a cylinder-shaped package on the kitchen table.

  Lauren and I exchanged glances.

  “The Mystery Prize!” we cried together.

  We both dropped our pencils.

  I picked the package up. I checked out the return address. “It’s from the poster company,” I told Lauren. “It’s definitely my prize.”

  “Open it!” Lauren said.

  I tore the wrapping off one end and slid the prize out of the cylinder.

  “I can’t believe it! Another poster!” I said. I rolled it open on the table.

  “Oh, no!” Lauren gasped. “Careful, Wes,” she said under her breath.

  “Another stereogram?” Mom asked, looking over our shoulders. “Is that the prize? Can you see it, Lauren?”

  Lauren squinted at the poster. “Uh-uh. I can’t see a thing,” she said. “Just those black and brown lines.”

  Mom spent a long time staring at it. But she couldn’t make it out, either.

  “Hey, what’s up? Cool! Whose poster? What is it? Can I have a look?” It was Vicky, of course.

  “Sure, have a look,” I said, shoving the poster toward her.

  “Nope. Can’t see a thing. Mom, what’s for dinner? Can I have a snack now? Please? Where’s Clawd?”

  “Pizza. No. In the backyard,” Mom told Vicky.

  Lauren moved closer. “Are you going to try to see it?” she whispered.

  “Do you think I should?” I asked.

  Lauren shrugged. “Might as well. We know how to control it, don’t we?”

  I leaned on the table and looked over the top of my glasses.

  It took me only a few seconds to see it.

  It was big.

  And hairy.

  And coming straight at me.

  A gigantic tarantula scurried out from under a rock and reached a hairy leg right out of the poster.

  I jumped backward and nearly fell over Vicky.

  “Wes!” Mom cried. “What on earth is wrong with you?”

  “Nothing, Mom. It’s okay,” I replied. I rolled the poster up as fast as I could. “Lauren, can you give me a hand with these books?” I asked.

  When we got upstairs, I told her. “There’s a monster in the poster. A huge tarantula. And, Lauren,” I whispered, “it wants to get out!”

  “Come on, Fluffy!” came a voice from next door.

  Lauren and I peered out the window.

  I saw Gabby. She and Corny were playing with Fluffums. This was the game: They had a stuffed cat, white like Clawd. It had a collar around its neck and a leash. They were dragging the stuffed cat in a circle. They were urging Fluffums to chase it and catch it.

  “Come on, Fluff,” Corny instructed. “Get that nasty old cat.”

  Fluffums went running after the cat. He grabbed it and chewed on its neck,
growling.

  “Good boy!” Gabby cried, patting the dog.

  It made me feel sick.

  “I’m really starting to dislike that family,” Lauren said.

  The twins stared up at us. “Hey, where is your cross-eyed cat?” Corny called.

  “Yeah, Fluffums wants to play!” Gabby added.

  They were both twirling their ponytails and smirking.

  I turned to Lauren. “I bet I can make them promise to keep that little hairball away from Clawd from now on.”

  I leaned out the window. “Hey, you guys, I forgot to tell you!” I shouted. “I won the prize. I solved the Mystery Stereogram.”

  “Yeah, for sure!” Gabby said, rolling her eyes.

  “No way,” Corny added.

  I sighed and ducked back in the window.

  “Bet they’d just love to see my prize,” I said. I tapped the tarantula poster on my hand. “Maybe I’ll even give it to them.”

  “Good idea,” Lauren replied, grinning evilly. “I’ll hold your glasses this time. You don’t want to break another pair.”

  “Corny! Gabby!” I called out the window. “Wait right there. I have a really cool surprise for you!”

  Are you ready for another walk down Fear Street?

  Turn the page for a terrifying sneak preview.

  I was shivering.

  But that was a good sign!

  Yes. Cold was definitely a good sign.

  Because cold spots meant ghosts!

  “Do you see anything?” my brother Steve whispered in my ear.

  “No—wait. Maybe.” I stared hard at the big oak tree. “There!” I pointed. “I just saw a light on that side of the tree. Then it went out.”

  I dug my heels into the ground—planting them there firmly—so it would be harder to bolt, which is exactly what I wanted to do.

  I cleared my throat.

  “Who is there?” My voice squeaked.

  The light flashed again.

  Then it went out.

  Crunch, crunch, crunch.

  “D-did you hear that?” I asked Steve. He nodded.

  Something was moving in the dark.

  Crunch, crunch, crunch.

  There it was again. Moving. Toward us.

  I swung the flashlight around wildly. Trying to catch it in my beam.

  Then I heard another sound. A voice. A laugh.

  “Steve, did you hear that?” I whispered. “It laughed.”