Go ahead and scream.
No one can hear you. You’re no longer in the safe world you know.
You’ve taken a terrifying step …
into the darkest corners of your imagination.
You’ve opened the door to …
Welcome…
For all of us there’s a place where true horror waits—our own personal Nightmare Room. You might find it anywhere—at home, at school, in the woods, at the mall … in your MIND. Take one step, shut your eyes—and you’re there. You’ve crossed the line. You’ve crossed over, from reality to nightmare.
I’m R.L. Stine. Let me introduce you to Danielle Warner. She’s that worried-looking girl with the solemn, dark eyes.
Danielle has been very tense lately. Anyone would be tense moving into an old house with long shadows, creaking doors, mysterious groans, and whispers.
And now, Danielle’s brother, Peter, is frightening her. He is acting strange—strange and dangerous. And it might be Danielle’s fault.
Maybe she shouldn’t have told Peter she wished she was an only child. Sure, she was only joking. But Danielle is about to learn a terrifying lesson. Sometimes your most evil wishes come true … in THE NIGHTMARE ROOM.
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Go Deeper Into This Nightmare…
About the Author
Preview: The Nightmare Room #2 Locker 13
Credits
About the Publisher
Copyright
I wrapped my hands around my brother’s throat and started to tighten them. “Die, monster, die!” I screamed.
Peter spun out of my grasp. “Danielle, give me a break,” he groaned, rubbing his throat. “You’re about as funny as head lice.”
My friend Addie laughed. She thinks everything Peter says is funny.
“I know what we can do for the talent show at school,” I told her. “A magic act. We can make Peter disappear.”
Peter stuck his tongue out at me. It was purple from the grape soda he was drinking.
Mom appeared in the kitchen carrying a tall stack of dinner plates. She set them down on the counter next to the piles of bowls and cups she had unpacked. She blew a strand of hair off her forehead and frowned at me. “Danielle, stop saying things like that about your little brother. You’d feel terrible if anything happened to Peter.”
“Yeah. Terrible,” I said, rolling my eyes. “But I’d get over it in a minute or two.”
“Mom, do you know what Danielle said?” Peter asked in a tiny, hurt voice. “She said her birthday wish is to be an only child!”
Mom scowled at me. “You didn’t really say that to Peter, did you?”
“Of course not,” I replied, glaring at Peter, who was still pretending to be hurt. “I mean, maybe I said it. But it was just a joke.”
“Your face is a joke!” Peter said.
Addie laughed again.
Why does she think Peter is such a riot? Why do all my friends think he’s so adorable and funny?
Mom narrowed her eyes at me. “Danielle, you’re fifteen and Peter is nine. You’re supposed to be the grown-up. You have to take care of him.”
“No problem,” I said. I raised my hands to strangle him again. “I’ll be glad to take care of him!” I dove at him.
Peter laughed and squirmed away.
It was the kind of kidding around brothers and sisters do all the time. Nothing to it, really. It was all so innocent and good-natured.
I had no idea what was to come in the next few days.
I had no idea I really was about to lose my brother.
It all started that day, the day Addie came to see our new house.
Mom had picked up a stack of china saucers and was carrying it to a cabinet above the stove. “Danielle, are you going to help me unpack this stuff?” she asked. “We’ve only got about a hundred more cartons to open.”
“I’ll open some!” Peter volunteered eagerly. He chugged the rest of his grape soda and tossed the can to the counter. “I’ll open all of them!”
Mom shook her head. “I don’t want to open all of them now. Just the ones for the kitchen.”
“Let me help!” Peter cried.
I motioned to Addie to follow me. “I’ll help right after I give Addie the house tour,” I told Mom.
Addie tossed her blond ponytail behind her shoulders and hopped down from the kitchen stool. “I can’t wait to see your new house, Mrs. Warner,” she said cheerfully.
Addie is a very cheerful girl. That’s her thing. She even wears cheerful colors. Today she had a silky pink vest over a blue T-shirt and bright orange capri pants she bought at some thrift store for two dollars.
Outrageous colors! But Addie always looked really together.
The red-and-blue glass beads she wore every day clattered as she started across the kitchen. Addie has a lot of style. I like things kind of plain and simple. My favorite color is gray. She always makes me feel brighter just walking beside me.
“Whoa.” Mom stepped in front of Addie, blocking her way. “Did you get your ears pierced again?”
Addie nodded.
Mom carefully examined the white and gold hoops in Addie’s ears. “Three in each ear?”
Addie nodded again. “Yeah. Only three.”
Peter pushed in between Mom and Addie. “Hey, Mom, can I get my nose pierced?”
Mom’s mouth dropped open but no sound came out.
I picked up the hammer Dad had been using. “Here, Peter,” I said. “I’ll do it for you.”
Peter stuck out his purple tongue again.
“Stop picking on Peter,” Mom said.
“Boohoo.” Peter rubbed his eyes and pretended to cry. “She hurt my feelings.”
I dropped the hammer, grabbed Addie’s arm, and tugged her to the kitchen door. “Come on. The grand house tour. I’m showing off this magnificent mansion.” I stepped over a pile of carpentry tools.
“Be careful,” Mom called after us. “The molding in the back hall was just painted. And there are still a few floorboards missing back there.”
“We’ll be careful,” I said.
“I want to give the tour!” Peter shouted, running after Addie and me. “We can start in my room. I have the coolest window seat. When we unpack my binoculars, I can sit there and spy on the neighbors. And my closet’s bigger than my old bedroom. And I think there’s a secret compartment in the wall!”
“Very cool,” Addie agreed, her long ponytail swaying behind her as she walked toward the front stairs.
“Peter, why don’t you help Mom,” I suggested. “I’m going to show Addie around myself. Maybe we’ll look at your room later.”
“No way!” he cried. “Addie wants to see my room first, right?” He clamped himself around her arm and started to pull.
Addie laughed. “Well—”
“Peter?” Mom called from the kitchen. “Peter? Can you come back here? I really need your help.”
Peter groaned and let go of Addie. “I’ll be back,” he muttered. “Don’t do my room without me.” He stomped away, the cuffs of hi
s baggy jeans scraping the floor.
Addie shook her head. “Your brother is so sweet.”
I rolled my eyes. “Easy for you to say. I think he’s totally annoying.”
She snickered. “You’re both such opposites in every way. You’re so quiet and serious, and Peter never stops talking. Look at him. Red hair. Bright red glasses. All those freckles and pale, white skin. He looks like an elf. And then look at you. You’re so dark and adult looking. Dark brown eyes, wavy brown hair. It’s like you’re not from the same family.”
“That’s because Peter comes from Mars,” I said.
Addie stopped at the stairway and gazed around at the peeling wallpaper, the cracked plaster, the long, uncarpeted halls. “How old is this house anyway?”
“At least a hundred years old,” I said. “It’s a mess, isn’t it?”
Addie nodded. “Kind of.”
“My parents call it a fixer-upper,” I said. The old floorboards squeaked under my feet. “You’d never know my parents worked on it for weeks before we moved in.”
“I guess it’ll be really nice someday,” Addie said, brushing a clump of dust from her orange pants. “Right now it really does look like a creepy old house from a horror movie.”
“Tell me about it,” I sighed. “Actually, the best thing about this house is that it’s enormous. There are so many rooms, I’ll be able to get away from Peter and my parents. I’ll have my own space.” Our old house on the other side of town was really tiny.
“Let me see your room,” Addie said. She started up the stairs.
“Don’t lean too hard on the banister,” I warned. “It’s kind of creaky.”
I started after her, but stopped. “Oh, wait. Someone left the basement door open. I don’t want the cat to go down there.”
Addie was halfway up the stairs. “What’s in the basement?”
“Who knows? I haven’t gone down yet. It’s too dark and it smells like someone died down there.”
I trotted down the hall and stopped at the open basement door. It creaked as I started to close it.
I froze when I heard another sound. A moan?
Who could be down there?
I held my breath and listened. I heard a soft scraping sound. Like shoes against concrete. Footsteps?
Grabbing the doorframe, I leaned forward and peered down the stairs. Dark. So dark I couldn’t see where the stairs ended.
I heard another muffled moan. So soft. As if from far away. More shoes scraping across the concrete floor.
“Hey—is anyone there?” I tried the light switch. I clicked it once, twice, three times. Nothing happened.
“Peter? Is that you?” I called. My voice sounded hollow in the heavy darkness of the stairwell. “Peter?”
“What? Are you calling me, Danielle?” Peter shouted from the kitchen. “Mom and I are unpacking!”
Okay. So it wasn’t Peter.
I leaned farther into the darkness. “Dad? Are you home?” I called. My voice cracked. “Dad? Is that you down there?”
I listened hard. Silence now.
And then I heard a sigh. Long and low.
More scraping. A soft thud.
And then a whisper … so soft and distant …
A whisper …
“Peter … we’re waiting … Peter …”
“Who’s there?” I called softly. “Who is it?”
Silence now.
“Did someone call my brother’s name?”
Silence.
“I’m coming down there!” I threatened.
Silence.
I listened hard for another few seconds. Then I slammed the basement door shut. I pressed my back against it and struggled to catch my breath.
There’s no one in the basement, I told myself. You didn’t hear that.
All old houses make noises—all kinds of creaks and groans and sighs.
And whispers.
Everyone knows that.
I told myself I was just freaked out about moving, about moving into this huge, creepy house. I told myself that I was just hearing things.
But I had to find out for sure. So I took a deep breath, pushed away from the door, turned, and started to pull it open once again.
“Hey!” I cried out when the door wouldn’t budge. “Hey!”
I twisted the heavy brass doorknob and tugged. Then I twisted it the other way. I took another deep breath and tugged with both hands, groaning loudly as I pulled.
Stuck. The door was completely stuck now.
“Danielle.” Mom’s voice startled me. I jumped. She staggered past, struggling under the weight of a big moving carton. “Did Addie leave already?”
“Uh … no,” I replied. I opened my mouth to tell Mom about the whisper in the basement but decided against it. She would just tell me to take ten deep breaths and calm down. “Addie is still upstairs,” I said. “I haven’t started the house tour.”
I hurried to join her.
I found Addie at the end of the hall outside my parents’ room. She had her arms crossed in front of her and was staring hard at a framed photograph on the wall.
“Do you believe that’s the first thing my parents hung up in the new house?” I said, a little breathless from running up the stairs.
Addie squinted harder. “What is it?”
“It’s Peter’s old teddy bear,” I replied.
“But … why?” Addie asked.
“You know. They think everything Peter does is adorable.” I rubbed a finger down the glass over the photograph. “Peter started wearing glasses when he was really tiny. He had some kind of eye muscle defect, and so he had to wear these tiny glasses. Everyone called him the Little Professor. Adorable, right?”
“Adorable,” Addie echoed.
“Well, one day Peter toddles into my parents’ room. He’s put the glasses on the teddy bear. He holds up the bear, and he says, “Look! Now Teddy can see how cute I am!’”
Addie laughed.
“Okay. It’s kind of amusing,” I said. “But my parents went berserk, gushing about how wonderful Peter was. And they started crying their eyes out.”
“Wow,” Addie murmured.
“Do you believe it? They thought it was the cutest thing they ever saw. And then my dad took this picture of the teddy bear with the little glasses on so they’d never forget the moment.”
Addie gazed at the photo for a few more seconds, then turned to me with a smile on her face. “I think it’s a sweet story, Danielle.”
I stuck my finger down my throat and made loud gagging sounds.
“I think you’re jealous,” she said.
I exploded. “Who, me? Jealous of that creep? Could you possibly say anything stupider?”
She raised both hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I didn’t mean it. Show me your room.”
I felt bad. I didn’t want to fight with my best friend. Besides, Addie never fights with anyone. She will always back down and apologize rather than get into any kind of argument.
I showed her my room. I didn’t realize how drab it was until I brought Addie into it. The walls were gray and the carpet was a darker gray.
Outside, the sun had disappeared behind heavy clouds, making the room even darker. The only color anywhere was Addie’s bright clothes.
“I … I’m going to brighten it up a bit,” I said. “You know. Put up a lot of posters and stuff.”
I could see Addie struggling to think of something cheerful to say. “It’s a nice room for holding seances,” she said finally.
I laughed. “You’re not still into that weird ‘talking-to-the-spirits’ stuff, are you?”
Before she could answer, I heard voices outside. Boys’ voices.
I ran to the window and peered down to the front yard. The glass was so dust-smeared, I could barely see. But I recognized two guys from our class, Zack Wheeling and Mojo Dyson, jogging up the front walk.
“Hey! I don’t believe it!” Addie exclaimed, right behind me. She moved instantly to the dr
esser mirror and began fixing her ponytail, checking herself out.
The truth was, she and I had major crushes on both those guys. “What are they doing here?” Addie asked. “Did you invite them or something?”
“No way,” I said, leaning into the mirror, rubbing a dust smudge off my cheek and pushing my hair back into place.
By the time Addie and I came downstairs, Peter had already opened the door and was welcoming the two boys. “Is that your real name? Mojo?”
From halfway down the stairs, I could see Mojo turn red. That’s just his thing. If you talk to him, he blushes. Some kids are like that. I guess they have really sensitive skin or something.
“No. It’s not my real name,” he told Peter.
“What’s your real name?” Peter demanded.
Mojo turned a darker red. “Not saying.”
Peter wouldn’t quit. He never does. “Why not? Is it something really dumb? Like Archibald?”
Mojo and Zack laughed. “How’d he guess your real name, Archibald?” Zack said.
“Hi, Archibald!” Addie called.
The guys looked up and saw us for the first time.
“Hey,” Zack said, giving us a quick, two-fingered salute. He always gave that salute. “What’s up?”
“What are you guys doing here?” I asked. It didn’t come out quite the way I meant it.
“We brought you a housewarming gift,” Mojo said.
“But we ate it on the way over,” Zack added, grinning. “Actually, it was two Snickers bars.”
“We were kind of hungry,” Mojo said.
“Nice,” I sighed, rolling my eyes. “Well, this is it.” I motioned with one hand. “Our new palace. It’s—” Something caught my eye down the hall, and I gasped.
The basement door—it had been jammed shut. Stuck.
Now it stood wide open again.
I turned to Peter. “How did you get the basement door open?”
He frowned. “I didn’t. I never touched it.”
I stared at the door. “Weird.”
“Are you guys going to the game next Friday night?” Addie asked. “Maybe we could hang out or something after?”
Before they could answer, Peter interrupted. “I got a new computer for my birthday. It’s all hooked up. Are you into Tomb Raider? I have the new one. It’s been totally upgraded. And guess what else I got? Next year’s NFL Football.”