Authors: R.L. Stine
Desperately Danielle tried to peel her aunt's fingers from the phone. “Why are you doing this? Don't you believe me? Do you think I'm crazy?”
Aunt Margaret shook her head. “No, dear, I don't think you're crazy at all. In fact I know you're not.”
“Then whyâ?”
“I'm sorry, Danielle, but you can't call the police. I can't let you.” A strange smile spread over Aunt Margaret's face. “You have to go back to the others, dear. We've all worked too hard. You can't spoil our plans for you now.”
I
didn't hear right, Danielle told herself.
Aunt Margaret didn't say that.
But what
did
she say?
Gently Aunt Margaret took the phone from Danielle's hand and hung it up.
“You must go back to them, Danielle,” Aunt Margaret repeated. “They won't let you escape. They'll kill you first.”
No, Danielle thought. She can't be saying that. This is one of my fantasies. If I just wait, it'll be over.
She felt Aunt Margaret's arm on her shoulder. She stiffened.
“Danielle!” Aunt Margaret sounded hurt. “Don't be afraid of me. Come sit at the table and let me fix you some tea.”
Danielle shook her head and shrugged her aunt's hand off her shoulder. “I have to get help for Kit!”
Aunt Margaret sighed. “You can't, dear. Please listen to me. I can't let you ruin our plan, Danielle. We've all been working on it for so long.”
Danielle gazed around the kitchen. The clock ticked. The refrigerator hummed. The plants swayed gently in the breeze from the window.
Face it. Everything is all real, Danielle told herself. It's all really happening.
And . . . and . . . Aunt Margaret is one of
them!
Her eyes moved back to her aunt's face. She swallowed. “You're my aunt!” she whispered hoarsely. “How could you help them?”
Aunt Margaret slowly shook her head. “I'm not your aunt, Danielle.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” Danielle shrieked. “I've known you all my life! Of course you're my aunt!”
“You hadn't seen your real aunt since you were a tiny child,” Aunt Margaret reminded her.
“Butâbutâ” Danielle sputtered.
“I took her place,” the woman revealed.
“But what happened to my real aunt?” Danielle demanded.
The woman brushed back her red hair and sighed again. “You don't have to know that, Danielle. The less you know, the easier it'll be for you toâ”
“Tell me!” Danielle demanded.
“Your real aunt is dead,” Aunt Margaret replied
bluntly. “Just like your parents. All three of them died the same way.”
“What are you talking about? My aunt wasn't with Mom and Dad when they had that car accident!”
“No, of course she wasn't,” Aunt Margaret agreed. “But they got her, the same way they got your parents.”
“The same way they gotâ” Danielle stopped, horrified.
The newspaper story! Her parents had been torn to pieces by unknown animals. No wonder she couldn't stop thinking about them. Somehow, all along, she'd known that the accident story was a lie.
And the same animals that killed her parents killed her aunt.
Werewolves.
The werewolves had killed them.
Aunt Margaret continued her explanation. “It was all part of the plan,” she told Danielle. “They had to get your relatives out of the way so I could care for you. So I could get you ready.”
“Ready for what?”
“Ready for your husband!” Aunt Margaret leaned close to Danielle. Her steely blue eyes gleamed with excitement. “You've fought it hard, but you can't win,” she whispered. “You'll never win. And you're almost ready. Almost ready to become his bride!”
“Whose bride?” Danielle cried. “What are you talking about?”
“A werewolf's bride.” Aunt Margaret smiled triumphantly.
“Our master. He needs a wife, Danielle, and he chose you.”
Billy! Danielle thought as a chill of horror swept down her body. They expect me to marry that
creature.
Danielle crept backward, but Aunt Margaret shot out a hand and grabbed her tightly around the arm. She was a small woman, but her grip was powerful.
“Let go of me!” Danielle demanded. “I won't be part of your sick plan. Let go of me!”
“It's too late!” Aunt Margaret whispered. “Years too late.”
Danielle glanced around the room. How can I get out of here? How can I escape from her?
“Don't try anything,” Aunt Margaret warned. “It's useless, Danielle. I won't let you go. I won't let you spoil everything.”
Danielle jerked her arm violently.
“Stop it!” Aunt Margaret insisted sharply. “You're just making it harder on yourself.”
“Hey, what's going on?” a shrill voice demanded.
“Cliff!” Danielle cried. Her little brother stood in the kitchen doorway in his Power Rangers pajamas, blinking at them sleepily.
“What's happening?” Cliff asked with a huge yawn. “I heard all this shouting and stuff.”
“It's nothing, Cliff,” Aunt Margaret told him quickly. “Go back to bed.”
Cliff eyed them suspiciously. “You guys having a fight or something?”
“No!” Aunt Margaret snapped. “Now go back to bed!”
Cliff frowned. “Okay, okay. All I asked wasâ”
“Listen to me, Cliff!” Danielle interrupted quickly. “Run upstairs and call the police! Call 911.”
“The police?” Cliff's eyes widened. “Hey, were we robbed or something?”
Aunt Margaret laughed harshly. “Your sister is trying to trick you, Cliff. You know how she likes to tease.”
“No!” Danielle shouted. “This isn't a joke, Cliff. Please, get the police!”
Cliff hesitated. His gaze moved back and forth between his aunt and his sister.
“Cliff, do as I say and get back to bed,” Aunt Margaret ordered.
She moved toward him, and her grip on Danielle's arm loosened. With a cry Danielle pulled free and shoved the woman away. The woman staggered, crashed into Cliff, and the two of them fell to the floor.
Ignoring their cries, Danielle dived to the back door, twisted the lock, and yanked it open.
Billy stood outside.
His eyes burned angrily into hers. “Where do you think you're going?” he asked.
“W
here do you think you're going?” Billy repeated.
“As far away from you as I can get!” Danielle screamed.
Before Billy could react, she thrust out both arms and shoved him down the back steps.
He cried out in surprise. Grabbed for her.
But she leaped over him. She landed hard on her hands and knees, scrambled to her feet, and raced around the corner of the house.
“Stop her!” she heard Aunt Margaret shout from inside the kitchen. Then she heard Cliff's frightened cries.
Would Aunt Margaret hurt Cliff?
No, Danielle told herself. The werewolves aren't after Cliff, she told herself. They want a bride for Billy.
A bride for the werewolf.
Heavy footsteps pounded the ground behind her. Billy!
With a furious burst of energy, Danielle tore through the front yard and jumped into the van.
Her fingers felt thick and clumsy as she dragged the key out of the pocket of her shorts.
It slipped out of her hand. She ducked down and searched the grimy van floor.
Billy threw himself at the van. “Danielle!” he shouted. “Don't run from me!”
She found the key and jammed it into the ignition.
Billy clawed at the driver's window. “Danielle, open the door!” he yelled. “Don't run. You can't escape. You can't win!”
Oh, yes I can! Danielle thought angrily. She pumped the gas and turned the key.
Billy's fingers scrabbled at the window.
“Get away!” Danielle screamed.
The engine roared. She slid the van in gear and peeled away from the curb. In the rearview mirror she watched Billy chasing after her.
Danielle floored the gas pedal and tore down Fear Street. The van swung wildly, and the tires squealed as she steered it around the corner and onto the Mill Road.
Billy was no longer in sight.
I'm safe, she thought. At least for now.
Danielle let up slightly on the gas. She needed to think.
Where can I go? Who will help me?
I could go to the police station. But if they don't believe me, they'll take me home to Aunt Margaret. I'd never escape again.
Who can I trust? Who will help me?
As she sped north on the Mill Road, a face flashed into her mind.
Dr. Moore.
He said she could call him any time, day or night, if she needed help.
Well, she really needed help now.
Danielle wheeled the van around and roared toward Shadyside's business district. The stores and offices stood empty and dark.
Moonlight washed over the darkened buildings.
The bad moonlight.
It changed Billy and the others into wolves, Danielle knew. And it almost made me one of them.
But how?
She had been outside under the moon hundreds of times in her life. And she had never felt strange or violent.
Until she joined the band.
Billy must have some kind of special power, Danielle decided.
The street suddenly darkened. Glancing up through the windshield, Danielle watched another bank of clouds rolling across the sky toward town.
Good, she thought. Maybe the clouds will block out the moon until Dr. Moore and I figure out what to do.
Dr. Moore's big Victorian house came into view.
Be home. Please be home, Danielle prayed desperately.
She brought the van to a screeching halt and jumped to the ground. Gravel dug painfully into her bare feet as she ran across the parking area.
“Dr. Moore!” Danielle pounded on the door with both fists. “Please, it's an emergency! I need help. I'm in danger! Open up!”
The old house remained silent and dark.
Danielle fumbled for the doorbell and jabbed her finger against it over and over. She heard it buzzing inside. She kept one hand on the button and pounded on the door with the other.
At last the outside light flashed on. A chain rattled, a lock clicked, and the door swung open.
Dr. Moore stared out at her, blinking with surprise. He wore rumpled pants and a loose-fitting sweatshirt. His fringe of gray hair lay matted to his head.
“Thank goodness!” Danielle gasped, pushing her way inside. “I was afraid you were gone!”
“I fell asleep on the couch, reading,” Dr. Moore explained, rubbing his hand over his face. “What is it, Danielle? What has happened?”
Danielle slammed the door. “I don't think Billy will figure out that I came here,” she said in a frightened whisper. She turned the lock and slid the chain into place. “But I can't be sure, Dr. Moore. He's got some kind of power!”
The doctor's eyes widened in confusion. “What are you saying? Are you being chased?” he asked, studying her face. His expression changed. “You're hurt, Danielle! Your face is scratched and bruised. Come into the office and let me take a better look.”
“I'm all right,” Danielle insisted as the doctor ushered her into his office. “The scratches don't matter. Please! I'm in danger, and so are youâif he finds out I'm here!”
“Stay calm,” Dr. Moore urged softly. “You can explain it all to me in a moment. First, let me make sure all the doors and windows are locked.”
She watched him hurry out of the office.
At least I'm safe for now, she thought, breathing a little easier. But what can we do? What can he and I do against a pack of werewolves?
The doctor returned a few seconds later. “Everything's locked,” he told her, shutting the door behind him. “And the alarm system is on. No one can get in.”
“They'll find a way,” Danielle replied. “You don't know them. Even if they don't, we can't stay in here forever. And they'll be waiting for us when we come out!”