Fear Hall: The Beginning (14 page)

Includes

Goodnight Kiss

Their first kiss could be her last….

Goodnight Kiss 2

It's the kiss of death.

Plus…

The Vampire Club

A NEW Vampire story by R.L. Stine

Available from Archway Paperbacks

Published by Pocket Books

1360-01

DEAR READERS:

Where will Hope go now that her secret has been revealed? Does she realize that her friends aren't real friends?

Does she know who the vicious killer really is? Are there more shocking surprises in store for her?

I know the answers to all those questions—because I wrote the book! I hope you will join me for the conclusion of FEAR HALL. I think it's one of my scariest finishes ever!

THE NIGHTMARES NEVER END … WHEN YOU VISIT

Turn the page to see a terrifying sample of …

FEAR HALL: THE CONCLUSION

(Coming mid-July 1997)

Don't miss the shocking conclusion to
FEAR HALL: THE BEGINNING

 
Darryl's Revenge

I
'
m watching you, Mary.

I've been watching you for days. Following you from your dorm, Fear Hall—which used to be my home too. Following you to your classes.

I can't go to classes anymore, thanks to you. Thanks to you and your roommates. Since you talked to the police, I can't go to classes like the rest of you. I have to hide like a criminal.

Well, maybe I
am
a criminal, Mary. Maybe I'm a very dangerous criminal.

I guess you'll soon find out the truth.

Because I've been following you every day. I know your schedule by heart now. I know when have classes and when you don't. I know where you eat lunch, and I know where you go to study.

And I know when you and Melanie go to the swim center for your team practices. I've been watching you swim. Yes, I have.

I've watched you practice all week. I've seen you work on your butterfly stroke. That's really a hard stroke, isn't it?

You've got to keep your head down, Mary. You've got to steady your breathing. That's what the coach has been telling you.

I could hear every word. You haven't seen me. But I've been watching you so closely.

I'm up here in the high balcony above the pool. Where the newspaper reporters sit. There's no one else up here during practices. I can watch you—and listen. And make my plans.

What a shame that you and your friends talked to the police, Mary. You got Hope in a lot of trouble. And now Hope is angry at me.

Hope blames me. She doesn't want me hanging around. She doesn't want to see poor Darryl anymore.

Hope and I were so close, Mary. So close.

And now she doesn't want to see me. Because she's in trouble. Thanks to you.

So I have to fix things. I have to win Hope back.

And I know just how to do it. I have to show Hope how much I care about her.

She would never pay you and your roommates back for what you did to her. But I will do it for her. And then Hope will know how much I care. She will know how much she needs me.

I'm watching you now, Mary. I'm sitting up here in the dark press room. Staring down at you through the long glass window.

Where is Melanie this afternoon? Why isn't she at practice today?

I can't believe she's going to miss your last swim….

The coach squatted on the edge of the pool, her stopwatch raised in front of her face. She was timing the girls' laps, one by one.

Her whistle rang through the building, echoing off the tiled walls. The first swimmer dove into the pool with barely a splash.

Mary was fourth in line. I figured I had plenty of time.

I slid off my seat in the press box, backed away from the window, and made my way to the narrow stairway in back. I hurried down the curving stairs, leaning my weight on the railing to keep my steps as silent as possible.

A doorway opened into the pool area. I hesitated. Heard the coach's whistle, followed by another splash. Girls shouted encouragement to the new swimmer.

I followed the stairs down. I knew exactly where they led. I'd checked it all out carefully. I'd been running the plan through my head endlessly.

The doorway at the bottom of the steps led into the training room. I stopped at the closed door. I suddenly had a bad feeling.

Had someone locked the door?

That would ruin everything.

I turned the knob. The door opened easily. Breathing a silent sigh of relief, I slipped inside.

I glanced up and down the rows of lockers. I crept along the wall to the shower room and peered in. No one around.

I checked out the coach's little office across from the locker room. Sometimes people wait in there to see the coach after practice.

But today it was empty.

“Perfect,” I murmured to myself.

The Jacuzzi bubbled and hissed on the other side of the shower room. Steam wisped up from the bubbling water.

They keep that baby really hot.

I guess that's good for the swimmers to soothe their muscles after coming from the cold pool.

It won't be good for
your
muscles today, Mary, I thought.

I moved quickly to the supply cabinet. One more important hurdle to cross. One more lap before I could head for the finish of the race.

Had someone locked the cabinet?

No. I pulled open the door and peered inside.

My eyes swept from the top shelf to the bottom. Ace bandages and other medical supplies on top. One shelf of gray towels. Books and papers and equipment manuals on the next shelf.

And at the bottom of the cabinet, my precious supplies. The things I needed to pay Mary back. To win Hope back.

The white plastic, gallon-size bottles of chlorine. I knelt down and counted six of them. Six gallons of chlorine.

That should be more than enough, I thought.

A few days before, I'd hidden by the lockers and watched the coach add chlorine to the Jacuzzi. She'd poured about two cups into the dispenser on the side. The chlorine would be fed into the circulating water a little at a time.

Six gallons will do the trick, I knew. I hoisted the first one off the floor. Heavier than I thought. But I dragged it over to the bubbling Jacuzzi, pulled off the cap—and poured the clear liquid into the steaming water.

I carefully replaced the empty gallon bottle on the floor of the cabinet and lifted out another one.

It took longer than I thought to pour all six gallons of chlorine into the Jacuzzi. I was just emptying the last bottle when I heard the door swing open and heard girls' voices from the hall.

I swung around quickly. Tossed the empty bottle into the cabinet. Shut the door.

Behind me, bare feet slapped the concrete floor. I heard a girl complain about how cold the pool was. A girl sneezed. Two girls called out, “Bless you.”

I backed away from the Jacuzzi. Found the hiding place Td picked out days ago—an empty cubby way in the back, where no one ever went.

In front of me, the Jacuzzi steamed and gurgled.

Holding my breath, I slipped into my dark hiding place.

And waited.

The girls changed quickly into their street clothes. Most of them seemed in a hurry to leave.

I heard someone call to Mary. “Are you coming to dinner?”

Mary moved into view. I saw her pull off her swim cap. Her red hair bounced out. She had her back to me. She adjusted her swimsuit. Then she raised one leg and rubbed her knee.

“Mary—you're always the last one dressed,” one of her teammates said.

“I just want to go in the whirlpool for a few minutes,” Mary replied. “My leg muscles are all cramped.”

Voices trailed off down the hall. The training room door slammed shut.

A few seconds later, the room stood silent.

I peeked out from my dark corner and, between the rows of metal lockers, I could see Mary. She dropped a white towel beside the Jacuzzi. Then, resting a hand on the chrome ladder, she stepped into the steaming water.

I poked my head out farther. I wanted to see what happened next.

I watched her lower herself into the swirling, hot pool.

I could see her face and her pale shoulders above the water.

It took a few seconds before she started to scream.

Her mouth opened in shock. Her hands shot up.

Her shrill cry echoed off the walls and metal lockers.

“Ohhhhh! Help me! Somebody—
help!
”

She thrashed the water. She raised herself up but appeared to fall.

She screamed again. “It burns! Oh, help! It
burrrrrrns!
”

Her face flamed bright red now.

The water splashed and churned.

She pulled at her hair with both hands. “Help me! Somebody! I'm burning! I'm burning!”

Screaming, she lurched across the pool, sending a wave of water crashing over the side. She splashed and thrashed some more. Then I saw one hand grab the railing, and she pulled herself out.

Her eyes were wild. She held her head with both hands. And staggered over the floor.

Her skin—her arms, her legs—were red as fire.

Squinting through the lockers, I saw the skin on her arms start to peel.

“Help me! Help me!”

She dropped to her knees, still wailing and crying.

And someone appeared. A woman bent over Mary. The swim team coach. She tried to wrap a towel around Mary's shoulders.

“I'm burning! Make it stop burning!” Mary wailed.

The towel fell off. Blisters had formed on her shoulders.

The coach grabbed for the towel. “I don't know what to do!” she screamed.

“Help me! Help me!” Mary wailed, her cries growing weaker.

And then the coach turned, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. She turned—and stared right at me.

I'm caught, I realized.

I'm trapped back here. Nowhere to escape.

What do I do now?