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    Frightmares 3: Even More Scary Stories to Read - If You Dare
    Frightmares 3: Even More Scary Stories to Read - If You Dare
    Frightmares 3: Even More Scary Stories to Read - If You Dare
    Ebook127 pages2 hours

    Frightmares 3: Even More Scary Stories to Read - If You Dare

    By Michael Dahl and Xavier Bonet

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    About this ebook

    What would you do if you encountered a ghostly girl who was out for revenge? What if an eerie creature haunted you in your sleep? What if you found a mysterious pair of shoes that gave you magic? In each of the tales in this book, people are afraid. Very afraid. Read their stories. See if you share their fears. Because if you don't now . . . you will.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherCapstone Young Readers
    Release dateAug 1, 2017
    ISBN9781496549167
    Frightmares 3: Even More Scary Stories to Read - If You Dare
    Author

    Michael Dahl

    Michael Dahl is the prolific author of the bestselling Goodnight, Baseball picture book and more than 200 other books for children and young adults. He has won the Association of Educational Publishers Distinguished Achievement Award three times for his nonfiction, a Teachers’ Choice Award from Learning Magazine, and a Seal of Excellence from the Creative Child Awards. Dahl currently lives in Minnesota.

    Read more from Michael Dahl

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      Book preview

      Frightmares 3 - Michael Dahl

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      Cover

      Title Page

      Introduction

      SECTION 1: IS ANYONE HOME?

      THE BOY IN THE BASEMENT

      SKIPPY

      SHADOW SHOES

      THE WAITING POOL

      FLUSHED

      THE BABY MONITOR

      THE TALL AND SLENDER MAN

      DON’T READ THIS STORY AT MIDNIGHT!

      BIG FURRY

      SECTION 2: GOING SOMEWHERE?

      FINGERS ON THE GLASS

      THE DARKEST BRIDGE

      THE PHANTOM TRAIN

      NIGHT OF THE FALLING STAR

      THE GIRL IN THE GRAVEYARD

      STUCK

      THE NIGHT OCTOPUS

      THE HORNLOCK

      SECTION 3: WATCH OUT!

      MEMBER OF THE BAND

      THE HUNGRY SNOWMAN

      THE BALLOON

      A HAND IN THE DARK

      THE WIZARD OF AHHHHHS!

      LITTLE IMPS

      LEGENDS — TRUE OR FALSE

      THE LIBRARY CLAW

      MICHAEL DAHL TELLS ALL

      SECTION 1: IS ANYONE HOME?

      SECTION 2: GOING SOMEWHERE?

      SECTION 3: WATCH OUT!

      About the Author

      About the Illustrator

      Copyright

      Back Cover

      Dear Reader,

      One night, I stepped outside to get some fresh air. It was a dark, moonless December night in Minnesota. The winter had been warmer than average – no snow on the ground and leaves were still clinging to the trees.

      Someone was standing across the street and appeared to be staring at me. The figure stood in the alley across from my house, next to a row of bushes. The figure was dark. I couldn’t see its face or even the color of its clothes.

      Silently, smoothly, the figure glided sideways, then disappeared behind the bushes. I rushed over to the alley (I know, bad idea), and in mere seconds the figure was gone. Vanished!

      I KNOW WHAT I SAW, but I don’t let it scare me.

      Strange figures and shadows hide in the stories of this book, staring out at you.

      Be brave – stare right back!

      SECTION 1

      IS ANYONE HOME?

      THE BOY IN THE BASEMENT

      Ten-year-old Natalie stood at the top of the basement stairs. A single bulb hung above the last step. The rest of the basement remained in thick shadow.

      Natalie gripped the banister. She took a few cautious steps down. Was that a moving shadow beyond the circle of light? Were her tired eyes playing tricks?

      No, she told herself. There’s nothing there. Nothing. There.

      She backed up the steps and firmly closed the door.

      When her family had first moved into the old house a few weeks ago, Natalie had found a piece of blue paper in her closet. The room had belonged to the girl who had lived here before. Natalie figured the paper must have belonged to the girl, something she had forgotten. She unfolded the paper and saw six words written in faint handwriting: Feed the boy in the basement.

      Natalie’s body had gone cold.

      During that first week in the new house, she accompanied her father and her brothers, Mike and Kalen, when they carried boxes to store down there. The basement was old and had a cold stone floor. The brick walls were painted white. Old-fashioned lights hung from the ceiling, the kind that you switched on by pulling a small chain. Natalie was tall for her age, but she was still too short to reach the chains. She decided that first week she would never go downstairs alone.

      Instead, each night at dinner, she would think of the message on the paper. Feed the boy in the basement.

      After dinner, Natalie would open the door to the basement and stare down into the darkness. She didn’t know why she did it. Maybe to prove to herself that the message had been a joke. It might have been part of a story the unknown girl had written.

      No one could live in the basement, she told herself. Her parents or her brothers would have seen something.

      * * *

      Natalie’s family had been living there for two weeks when she heard the noise. She had just gone to bed when she heard a creak. The basement door was opening.

      Natalie shivered and snuggled into her bed. She heard the sound of footsteps walking across the kitchen floor. The footsteps stopped outside her door. This can’t be happening, thought Natalie.

      Something scratched on the door. Natalie felt like screaming, but she was too scared. She gripped the covers, her hands clammy with sweat, as her bedroom door slowly opened. A shadow stood there.

      Feed me.…, it said.

      Natalie screamed and shot under the covers.

      Then she heard laughter. The light switched on. She looked up and saw her two brothers shaking with laughter.

      I knew that would get you, said Mike.

      Natalie’s face was red. You two are super mean! she said angrily.

      Mike found the note in your closet when we were moving boxes into your room, said Kalen, grinning. He left it there, but then we thought it was the perfect prank.

      We weren’t sure if you had read it or not, said Mike.

      Then we saw you looking down the basement stairs after dinner every night, said Kalen. And we knew.

      It was perfect, said Mike. Perfect.

      Natalie jumped out of bed. "How do you know there isn’t a boy in the basement?"

      Mike rolled his eyes. We’ve been down there a hundred times.

      So? said Natalie.

      C’mon, said Kalen. I’ll show you.

      The three siblings walked into the kitchen. Mike flipped the light switch. Kalen reached into the cookie jar on the counter and grabbed two chocolate chip cookies.

      Are you watching? asked Kalen. He opened the basement door and hopped down the steps. Kalen looked up at the two of them.

      Mike was still laughing. Don’t waste those cookies, he called down.

      Watch, Kalen said. He held the cookies like he would a Frisbee and tossed them both into a dark corner.

      Hope he likes them, said Mike.

      Natalie leaned forward. She hadn’t heard the sound of the cookies falling on the floor.

      He’d better, said Kalen. It’s Mom’s recipe.

      Kalen turned at a sound. From the top of the stairs, Natalie and Mike saw a long, slithery pink tongue shoot out of the shadows. It wrapped itself three or four times around Kalen, then pulled him into the dark.

      There was a nasty smacking sound, followed by a low purr. Without meaning to, they had fed the boy in the basement.

      SKIPPY

      Dinner was not going well. Milo kept stealing glances at his mother and father, back and forth across the table, across the soup. His mother and father were not speaking. They hardly made any noise at all. They were too busy listening.

      They were listening to sounds coming from the kitchen. Milo, however, ignored the moaning and the huffing. He ignored the churning sound of food spilling all over the tile floor. He ignored the flip-flip-flop of the dog’s tail happily hitting the wall. It was a noisy reminder that Skippy had knocked over and broken seventeen separate items in the last week.

      Milo’s father set his spoon down, resting it against the rim of his soup bowl. He took a deep breath. Skippy— he began.

      Skippy is good! Milo said. He was surprised that he spoke so suddenly, so loudly. His father was surprised too. He gave Milo the look he sometimes gave to his laptop when he was having computer problems.

      His dad began again. Skippy is—

      His mother interrupted. "Yes, dear, Skippy is a good dog. But he has problems."

      A very gross sound came from the kitchen.

      Lots of problems, said his father.

      Milo knew that his parents were right. One of Skippy’s problems was hard to ignore.

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