Locker 13 (14 page)

He helped me out of the pool. Guys were cheering and yelling congratulations.

But the cheering was cut short by a deafening cry from the middle of the pool. A shrill wail that rose like an ambulance siren. Higher … higher … until I was forced to cover my ears.

And then a mountain of water rose up from the pool. Red and steaming like a volcano. The water rose up—higher, higher—like a bubbling, boiling red tidal wave. And all the while the deafening wail rang out with it.

Everyone was screaming. We all were screaming.

And then, as suddenly as it rose up, the molten, red mountain collapsed back into the pool. Collapsed with a soft splash. The pool was flat and smooth again. And silent. Silent except for our stunned gasps and cries.

I turned to see Hannah running along the side of the pool. Hannah out of her wheelchair. Running. Running wildly, waving her arms excitedly, laughing, her red hair flying behind her.

“Luke—you did it! We're free! You defeated Fate! Luke—you defeated Fate!”

But it wasn't enough. Not enough for me.

I changed into my street clothes in seconds. Then I dragged Hannah down the hall to my locker. Locker 13.

I stopped at the janitor's closet. And I grabbed a huge sledgehammer.

Hannah cheered as I raised the sledgehammer to the locker, and smashed it … smashed it … smashed it.

Working feverishly, I pried the battered locker from the wall. Kicked it onto its side. Raised the sledgehammer again. Smashed it … crushed it … smashed it.

The battered locker door swung open. I heard a low groan from deep inside.

Hannah and I both leaped back as a skull rolled out onto the floor.

Not a tiny skull. A human-sized skull with glowing red eyes.

The eyes glowed for only a few seconds. Then the skull uttered a final groan, a groan of agony, of defeat. And the eyes faded to darkness. Empty darkness.

I took a deep breath. Ran up to it—and kicked the skull down the hall.

“Goal!” Hannah yelled.

We walked out of the school building arm in arm. Into the bright afternoon sunlight.

I took a long, deep breath. The air smelled so fresh, so sweet.

The houses, the trees, the sky—they all looked so beautiful.

I stopped at the bottom of the sidewalk. And bent down to pick something up.

“Hey, check it out!” I showed it to Hannah. “Is this my lucky day?” I cried. “I found a penny!”

 

Go Deeper Into This
Nightmare…

Luke Greene is very superstitious, so naturally he's not happy when he's assigned Locker 13 at school. But amazingly, a lucky charm he finds in the locker changes his luck from bad to great! Now Luke's luck is so good, he can't lose. No matter what he does, his lucky charm makes him come out on top.

But Luke discovers that his good luck comes with a very high price. Will he pay it? Or will he be lost like others before him in the horror that is Locker 13?

About Locker 13

The Locker 13 in Luke Greene's story does not exist anymore, and it is unclear if anyone who had the locker in previous years suffered the same fate as Luke.

People who have had unbelievably nightmarish experiences often keep silent about them. (Luke didn't tell his story to many people—only his friend Hannah and R.L. Stine know what happened.) So it is possible that what happened to Erica Chass in the same school 12 years earlier could be related to Locker 13.

Erica Chass was a popular seventh grader in Shawnee Valley Junior High. She had good grades, was a star soccer player and had lots of friends. Then one day everything seemed to change. Erica blew off soccer, nearly failed out of school, and was fearful and shy with even her best friends. She dressed only in black and always wore a necklace with a small charm in the shape of a skull.

Then one day, Erica moved away. She didn't say good bye. She just didn't show up for school one day and never came back.

But some people who went to that school in those days insist that's not the end of Erica's story.

The following year, a new girl joined the eighth grade at Shawnee. Her name was Alyssa Gwynne. She was bright cheerful and a terrific soccer player—and she looked exactly like Erica! “You would have sworn they were twins,” says Tracey Holt who knew them both—“No it was like the old Erica came back,” says another friend, Debra Wyle.

What was the relationship between Erica and Alyssa? Could they really be the same person? And what is the connection to the Locker 13 legend? Maybe there isn't one, but several people have mentioned that Alyssa had a necklace that she wore every day—a necklace with a tiny charm—of a skull.

About Superstition

Most of our superstitions go back to a time when people believed that witches and witchcraft were everywhere. People in the middle ages seemed to live in terror that evil magic or witches would harm their crops, bring illness or other disaster to their lives. Many of the superstitions that have lasted to our time go back to these ancient fears.

Break a mirror—seven years bad luck:    This superstition relates to the idea that our reflection is a part of ourselves. Harm the reflection and you will harm the original. According to the thinking of the middle ages, it takes seven years for the body to rebuild itself after it's been harmed. So that's why the bad luck lasts for seven years. Luckily there is a cure. Wash the broken mirror pieces in a south running river, and the evil is washed away too.

It's bad luck to walk under a ladder:    This goes back to a time when hanging was a common form of punishment. It seems that the gallows were pretty high, so a ladder was often rested against the side of the gallows platform. Walking under this ladder was literally dangerous. Be in the wrong place at the wrong time and a rotting dead body could fall on you. If you happen to be careless enough to walk under a ladder, you can change the bad luck. Just cross your fingers until you see a dog.

Black cats bring bad luck: There are a lots of superstitions about cats. Let's face it, cats can be creepy—and black cats are the creepiest. One ancient superstition about cats is that they will steal the breath out of babies. Where did this idea come from?

Watch a cat as it settles itself into your lap. Before snuggling up, the cat will often sniff you in the mouth. At a time when so many babies died, the cat theory is as logical as any other.

Now for some superstitions that you've probably never heard of…

If you find a knife in the road, you will have bad luck.

Don't point at the moon. (The man in the moon doesn't like it and will bring you bad luck.)

Don't brush your hair after sunset—especially if you have family who spends time on the sea. (Brushing your hair at that time will mean disaster and death for them—and bad luck for you.)

If a child hits a parent, the child's hand will wag over his grave and dogs will “water” it.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

R.L. STINE says he has a great job. “My job is to give kids the CREEPS!” With his scary books, R.L. has terrified kids all over the world. He has sold over 300 million books, making him the best-selling children's author in history.

These days, R.L. is dishing out new frights in his series THE NIGHTMARE ROOM. When he isn't working, he likes to read old mysteries, watch
SpongeBob Squarepants
on TV, and take his dog, Nadine, for long walks around New York City, where he lives with his wife, Jane, and son, Matthew.

“I love taking my readers to scary places,” R.L. says. “Do you know the scariest place of all? It's your MIND!”

Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author

 

Take a look at what's ahead in

THE NIGHTMARE ROOM #3
My Name is Evil

“Hey, check it out. A fortune-teller!” Jilly said. She pointed to a small, black tent that stood beside an ice cream cart. “Can we do it? I love fortune-tellers!”

“No way,” I said. “They make me nervous. I don't even like watching them in movies.”

“Come on, Maggie. It's your birthday,” her sister Jackie said, pulling me to the tent. “You have to have your fortune told on your birthday.”

“Let's see what the fortune-teller says about you and Glen!” Judy, the third sister teased.

“I don't think so,” I said.

But as usual, they didn't give me a choice. A few seconds later, we were standing at the doorway to the dark tent.

“We'll all have our fortunes told,” Jackie said. “My treat.”

“This is so cool!” Jilly whispered. “Do you think it's a real psychic? Do you think she can really tell the future?”

The three sisters started into the tent. I held back, staring at the red and black, hand-lettered sign: MISS ELIZABETH. FORTUNE-TELLER. ONE DOLLAR.

I suddenly realized that my heart was racing.

Why do I feel so weird? I wondered. Why do I have such a bad feeling about this?

I followed my friends into the tent. The air inside felt hot and steamy. Two electric lanterns on the back tent wall splashed gray light over the fortune-teller's small table.

Miss Elizabeth sat hunched with her elbows on the table, head in her hands, staring into a red glass ball. She didn't look up as we stepped inside. I couldn't tell if she was concentrating on the red ball, or if she was asleep.

The tent was completely bare, except for her table and two wooden chairs, and a large black-and-white poster of a human hand. The hand was divided into sections. There was a lot of writing all over the poster, too small for me to read in the smoky, gray light.

As she stared into the red glass ball, the fortune-teller muttered to herself. She was a middle-aged woman, slender, with bony arms poking out from the sleeves of her red dress, and very large, pale white hands. Squinting into the light, I saw that the polish on her long fingernails matched the red of her dress.

“Hel-lo?” Jackie called, breaking the silence.

Miss Elizabeth finally looked up. She was kind of pretty. She had big, round black eyes and dramatic red-lipsticked lips. Her hair was long and wavy, solid black except for a wide white streak down the middle.

Her eyes moved from one of us to the other. She didn't smile. “Walter, we have visitors,“ she announced in a hoarse, scratchy voice.

I glanced around, searching for Walter.

“Walter is my late husband,” the fortune-teller announced. “He helps me channel information from the spirits.”

Jackie and I exchanged glances.

“We'd like you to tell our fortunes,” Jilly said.

Miss Elizabeth nodded solemnly. “One dollar each.” She held out her long, pale hand. “Four dollars please.”

Jackie fumbled in her bag and pulled out four crumpled dollar bills. She handed them to the fortune-teller, who shoved them into a pocket of her red dress.

“Who wants to go first?” Again, her eyes moved slowly over our faces.

“I'll go,” Jilly volunteered. She dropped into the chair across the table from Miss Elizabeth.

The fortune-teller lowered her head again to gaze into the red ball. “Walter, bring me the words of the spirit world about this young woman.”

I suddenly felt a chill at the back of my neck. I knew I shouldn't be frightened. The woman had to be a fake — right? Otherwise, she wouldn't be working in a tacky carnival like this one.

But she was so serious. So solemn. She didn't seem to be putting on an act.

Or was I just being gullible again?

Now she took Jilly's hand. She pulled it up close to her face and began to study Jilly's palm. Muttering to herself, she moved her long finger back and forth, following the lines of the palm, tracing them with her bright red fingernail.

Jackie leaned close to me. “This is cool,” she whispered.

Judy sighed. “This is going to take forever.”

Jackie raised a finger to her lips and motioned for Judy to shush.

The woman studied Jilly's palm for a long time, squeezing the hand as she gazed at it, murmuring to Walter in the red glass ball. Finally, she raised her eyes to Jilly. “You are artistic,” she said in her scratchy voice.

“Yes!” Jilly declared.

“You are a … dancer,” Miss Elizabeth continued. “You study the dance. You are a hard worker.”

“Whoa. I don't believe this!” Jilly gushed. “How do you know — ?”

“You have much talent,” the fortune-teller murmured, ignoring Jilly's question. “Much talent. But sometimes … I see … your artistic side gets in the way of your practical side. You are … you are …”

She shut her eyes. “Help me, Walter,” she whispered. Then she opened her eyes again and raised them to Jilly's palm. “You are a very social person. Your friends mean a lot to you. Especially … boy friends.”

Jackie and Judy laughed. Jilly flashed them an angry scowl. “I—I don't believe this,” she told the fortune-teller. “You have everything right!”

“It is my gift,” Miss Elizabeth replied softly.

“Will I make the new dance company?” Jilly asked her. “Try-outs are next week. Can you tell me if I will be accepted?”

Miss Elizabeth stared into the glass ball. “Walter?” she whispered.

I held my breath, waiting for the answer. Jilly and I were both trying out for the dance company. And I knew there was only room for one of us.

“Walter can find no answer,” the fortune-teller told Jilly. “He only groans.” She let go of Jilly's hand.

“He—groaned?” Jilly asked. “Why?”

“Your time is up,” Miss Elizabeth said. She motioned to us. “Who is next?”

Jackie shoved Judy forward. Judy dropped into the chair and held her hand out to Miss Elizabeth.

Jilly came running over to join Jackie and me at the edge of the tent. “Isn't she
amazing
?” she whispered.

“Yes, she is,” I had to admit. How did she know so many true things about Jilly? I was beginning to believe Miss Elizabeth really had powers.