Stinetinglers 3, page 1
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For Dylan and Mia
INTRODUCTION
Hi, everyone. I’m back with ten more Stinetingling stories. I hope they keep you up late at night, bring a chill to the back of your neck, and maybe even get your teeth chattering. That’s my job, after all. My job is to scare you. And I hope I do it well in these creepy new tales.
Tiny fish that grow into giant man-eaters?
A house with bad luck in every room?
Frightening ghosts in the backyard treehouse?
Girls in the lunchroom who might actually be werewolves?
Those are some of the things you’ll find in these stories. None of them could happen to you—could they?
I hope they give you a chill.
You know. That tingle you get all over your body when you start to feel afraid.
I hope my new stories take you to a Stinetingling world of fantasy and fear, shadows and fright.
Reader, beware. That cold tingle may become a SCREAM!
FULL-MOON SLEEPOVER PARTY
When I was in high school, there were four kids who sat together at the same table every day in the lunchroom. They had something like a secret club. No one else was allowed to join them.
I used to sit at a nearby table and watch them talking and laughing. I wondered what they were talking about, what they were joking about. And why they wanted to keep it a secret from everyone else.
When I sat down to write this story, I remembered them. And I wondered: What if they weren’t normal kids? What if they were actually dangerous?
I know who those girls are, and I know what they are.
The four seventh-grade girls who sit at the same table every day, way at the side, in the shadows of the lunchroom. And make sure no one else can sit with them.
They pretend they don’t see me watching them.
They don’t want me at their table, and they don’t want me at their Friday night sleepover parties.
But I know what they do at those sleepovers. Because I know what they are.
After school, I see them in the parking lot behind the high school. Just hanging out, leaning on cars and talking. I know what they talk about. The moon and the next sleepover and what our town is like late at night when most everyone is asleep.
I see them howling with laughter, and I know what they laugh about. Their laughter is cold and cruel, and I know why.
They have long nails and they color them black. Like they’re in an exclusive club. They dress alike, mostly in gray and black. Their hair falls loosely down to their shoulders.
They all wear silver wolf pendants on slender chains around their necks. But they keep the pendants hidden under their tops so no one can see them.
They can’t keep secrets from me. Because I know what they are.
And the truth is, I belong with them.
I want to be with them. I want to sit at their table in the lunchroom, and sprawl on cars in the high school parking lot. And talk and joke and laugh cold laughter. And I want to be at the Friday night sleepovers where they howl at the full moon and have dangerous adventures.
But I can’t just walk up to them and tell them that. I can imagine the cruel laughter I’d get as a reply.
I need to find a way to let them know my feelings. How do I just stand there and tell them, “I know your secret. I know what you are”? I can’t. No way.
I’m not a timid person. And I’m definitely not shy.
I’ve made some friends since my family moved here to Maryville Mills a year ago. We have good fun together, and we help one another with homework and other school projects.
But I can’t really open up to them. Some things have to stay secret. You have to hold them close until you are with the right people who will understand.
So, usually on Friday nights, I sit at home and think of the four girls at their sleepover. And I think about what they talk about and what happens to them late every night the moon is full.
I didn’t give up hope of joining them. I just grew impatient trying to figure out how to make it happen.
Then, one Saturday afternoon at the Pine Woods Mall, something happened that changed things for me.
A lot of stores at the mall have closed and there are long, empty hallways with darkened windows on both sides. But there’s a shoe store my mom likes to bring me to because the prices are cheap and I actually like the shoes.
I bought a pair of designer sneakers that were hidden under a pile of shoes and on sale. As I left the store, I was thinking about how Mom would like my nose for bargains. She was shopping somewhere near the food court.
I stopped outside the store and nearly dropped the shoe bag when I recognized Larissa Wolf. The leader of the four girls. The reason they call themselves the Wolfpack.
Larissa stood in a corner with her back to the wall.
Two boys stood in front of her. Their faces were hidden behind gray hoodies, but I could see they were older than us. And I could see right away they were crowding her, standing too close, giving her a hard time.
Larissa’s mouth hung open and I could see the frightened look on her face. Her back pressed against the tile wall as if she were trying to escape through it.
“Hey—!” I let out a shout.
The two boys turned.
“Leave her alone!” I said as angrily as I could.
I started to run toward them. They watched me but didn’t move.
“Leave her alone!” I screamed.
They turned and moved shoulder to shoulder, like they were going to fight me. “Who are you?” the taller one snarled at me.
“I’m the one with the police whistle!” I yelled.
The silver whistle was on a chain around my neck. I pulled it out and blew on it with all my strength.
The shrill sound blasted off the mall walls, echoing for miles down the empty hall—and the two guys took off running. They didn’t look back.
Larissa didn’t move. She stayed with her back pressed against the wall. Her mouth still hung open as she stared at me.
“Nessa?” she finally spoke. “Nessa? Th-thanks,” she stammered.
I tucked the whistle back under my T-shirt and stepped closer to her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. “That was scary.” Her voice was shaky. She rubbed her cheeks with both hands. I recognized her long black nails.
Larissa shook herself and stepped away from the wall. “Nessa, that was brave of you,” she said. “I think they wanted my wallet. It’s a joke because I told them I only have five dollars in it.”
“Glad you’re okay,” I said. My heart was still pounding pretty hard. Because of those two guys. And because I was actually talking with Larissa Wolf. Leader of the Wolfpack.
She squinted at me with her hazel eyes. “Why do you have a whistle?”
I raised it again and held it in front of me. “On Saturday mornings, I referee the soccer games at the elementary school playground,” I explained. “I just came from a game. Guess I forgot to take it off.”
“Lucky,” she said. She actually smiled at me. “Those guys were bad news.”
We started walking together toward the food court. My mind was spinning. I was trying to think of something to say. But I saw my mom waving to me down the hall.
I waved back to her. “Gotta go,” I told Larissa.
“Nessa, thanks again,” she said. “See you in school on Monday.”
Wow.
Maybe my life was about to change. Maybe I was about to make friends with girls I belonged with.
But on Monday in the lunchroom, it didn’t go well …
* * *
The lunch line was long. I turned and saw that Larissa was already at the Wolfpack table, chatting away with Gaby across from her. Kat and Maylene were ahead of me in the line.
I wanted to get the spaghetti, but I always get tomato sauce all over my face. So I took a tuna fish sandwich instead. I knew today was the day I’d finally get to sit at their table, and I didn’t want to look like a slob.
I like chocolate milk, but I took water instead. I was so eager to impress them. Maybe this wasn’t the biggest day of my life. But it was definitely the most exciting since I moved to Maryville Mills.
By the time I got my lunch, Kat and Maylene had joined the table. All four girls were talking at once. I wondered if they were talking about the next sleepover.
My heart started thumping in my chest as I carried my tray to their table. I gripped the tray tightly in both hands, afraid I might drop it. And stepped up to the side of the table.
It took Larissa a little while to look up. She was examining a smart watch on Maylene’s wrist. “Two thousand steps just this morning,” Maylene said.
Larissa snickered.
All four of them laughed.
Larissa finally noticed me standing there, my tray raised awkwardly at my chest. “Nessa, hi,” she said.
“Hi,” I echoed. I looked at the empty chair beside her.
“Nessa saved my life Saturday at the mall,” she told the others.
They studied me. “How?” Kat asked.
“She blew a whistle,” Larissa answered, “and chased some bad dudes away.” She turned back to me. “Show them your whistle, Nessa.”
“I—I don’t have it,” I stammered. The lunch tray was starting to get heavy. I saw that Gaby had tomato sauce on her chin.
Larissa turned back to the others. “Did you ace the algebra test?” she asked Kat.
“Of course,” Kat replied. “You know I’m a math freak.”
“I know you’re a freak!” Gaby joked.
“Can I sit down?” I asked. My voice came out high and shrill.
Larissa looked up at me. She waved a hand over the table and made a sad face. “No room, really,” she said. Even though it was a table for six.
“N-no room?” I stammered. Did she really say that?
She pointed to a chair at the next table. “How about over there?”
I tried not to let my feelings show on my face. But I think I let out a little sigh. I could feel my cheeks turning red.
I turned and set my tray down at the corner of the next table. The table was empty. The wooden chair scraped loudly as I pulled it out to sit down. I turned and saw that the four girls were watching me.
My hands trembled as I tried to unwrap the tuna sandwich. My face was still burning. I felt totally embarrassed. But I was more angry than humiliated.
Was I supposed to be grateful they were letting me sit at the next table?
I took a bite of the sandwich, but I couldn’t taste it. I had a strong urge to stand up and shout. To tell everyone in the lunchroom the truth about them.
I know. I know the truth. I know the real reason they call themselves the Wolfpack.
But if I did shout out the truth, would anyone believe me?
And if I told Larissa and her friends that I belong with them, that I am one of them … would they believe me?
Probably not.
So I sat there, snatching angry bites of my sandwich and sneaking glances at the four of them. And thinking angry, unhappy thoughts.
“Hey, Nessa?” Larissa’s shout made me turn. She had a potato-chip bag raised in one hand. “Want some chips? I didn’t mean to buy them.”
Was that her way of paying me back for rescuing her on Saturday?
Would she toss them to me since I wasn’t allowed at her table?
“No thanks,” I muttered. I pretended to be interested in my sandwich.
I can’t keep this up, I told myself. I have to do something. Something.
But what?
Slowly, as I sat there stewing, a plan began to form in my mind.
* * *
Friday night, there was a full moon.
So it was now or never.
Time to be bold and take matters into my own hands. Time to step up and solve my Wolfpack problem once and for all.
I knew the sleepover party was at Maylene’s. Her house was two blocks from mine. After dinner, I went to my room and stared at the clock.
I knew the four of them were already there. But I didn’t want to go too early. I wanted to surprise them at just the right time.
Just before the full moon was at its highest in the sky.
I paced back and forth in my room. No way I could sit still. How many nights had I thought about them and their sleepovers? How many nights had I dreamed about joining them?
I had to be there with them. I belonged there.
A little after ten, I took several deep breaths—for courage. Then I sneaked out the kitchen door and crept along the side of the house, ducking low at the windows so my parents couldn’t see me.
It was a clear, cool night. Not a cloud in the sky. The full moon was so bright and seemed close enough to reach up and touch.
I started to trot toward Maylene’s house. I could feel the blood pulsing at my temples. My skin tingled. Under the white moonlight, every tree leaf, every blade of grass came into sharp focus.
My shoes thudded on the dew-damp grass. My breath came out in sharp puffs as I jogged. When Maylene’s house rose up in front of me, I stopped.
Can I really do this?
Yes. Yes. I had to.
I didn’t knock. I burst through the kitchen door. Larissa, Kat, and Gaby sat at a round kitchen table. Maylene stood at a white counter, pulling slices from a large pizza box.
They all cried out in shock as I stumbled toward the counter.
“Nessa? What are you doing here?” Larissa cried.
I was breathing too hard to answer. Gasping in deep breaths.
“I know everything!” I finally managed to choke out.
The three girls jumped up from the table. Maylene let a slice fall back into the box.
“I know the truth about your sleepovers,” I shouted. “I know your secret. I know what you are. Because I’m one, too!”
“Nessa—?” Larissa started toward me.
“Let’s not waste time!” I cried. “The full moon is high. Let’s go. Let’s do it! You’ll see. I’m one of you!”
I spun back to the open kitchen door and ran outside. The four girls followed after me, calling my name.
The cool air felt wonderful against my hot face. I raised my eyes to the moon and felt the bright light wash over me. I raised my arms above my head, raised them to the moon, and felt my body start to change.
“I know you’re werewolves!” I shouted to the girls. “I know! Because I’m a werewolf, too!”
It was happening. I heard my bones crunch and crack. I felt my snout stretch long. My skin itched all over as the thick black fur sprouted over me.
I opened my jaws in a long howl.
“I’m a werewolf, just like you!” I cried. And then my human voice vanished, replaced by my usual wolf growls.
Finally, there I stood with them under the moonlight. Finally, I could prove that I was one of them. I belonged.
Only … wait.
Wait.
My breath came out in low grunts as I turned to them. And saw the startled looks on their faces. Their wide eyes. Their open mouths.
Why hadn’t they changed along with me? Why hadn’t they joined me? Why hadn’t they let the moonlight turn them into wolf creatures?
I uttered a growl. They backed away from me. Their faces were twisted in open horror. Their human faces. I could see that they were terrified.
Oh no. Oh noooo.
I realized the truth at once. I got it all wrong. All wrong. A total mistake.
They’re not werewolves. They’re the Wolfpack—but they’re not werewolves.
What a mistake. A fatal mistake!
How could I be so wrong? They are normal girls. Not werewolves. Not werewolves like me.
And now, here I stood, grunting and drooling. The fur bristling over my body.
Should I attack them now?
Did I have a choice?
THE BAD-LUCK KING
Do you ever have a bad-luck day?
You oversleep? You put your T-shirt on inside out and don’t realize it till you get to school and everyone sees it?
You step in something nasty on the sidewalk?
The teacher calls on you the only time you weren’t listening, and you don’t know what she’s talking about?
Somehow you cut your hand on a piece of toast?
That’s real bad luck.
I was having a day like that. And I started to think: What if all my bad luck isn’t an accident?
What if someone is in charge of all the bad luck—and they’re sending it to me?
That’s when I sat down and wrote this story.
Before all the bad luck started, my sister, Ella, and I were excited about our visit to Uncle Philip’s house. Mom and Dad said that Philip was an amazing man.
He lives in an enormous old house that’s like a museum. It’s filled with his collections of paintings and sculptures, and old statues, and armor, and weapons, stuffed creatures, and strange things he picked up during his travels around the world.
