Goosebumps (R) Series 2000 No. 14
JEKYLL AND HEIDI
by R.l. STINE
Copyright 1999 by Parachute Press, Inc.
BOOK JACKET INFORMATION
Goosebumps No. 14
APPLE FICTION
Half human. Half beast.
Welcome to the new millennium of fear
Goosebumps (R) SERIES 2000
I gripped the banister and gaped in silence asUncle Jekyll staggered into the house. His white hair shot out wildly from his head asif it had been shocked with electricity. Hispale eyes bulged. His face was smeared withdirt. I wanted to disappear. I didn't want himto see me. I didn't want him to explain wherehe had been or what he had done.
SCHOLASTIC INC.RL4 008-012
JEKYLL AND HEIDI
I stared at the bus ticket in my hand and readmy name over and over: Heidi Davidson.Heidi Davidson. Heidi Davidson. I gazed at it until the words blurred infront of my eyes. That's how I feel, I thought sadly. Ifeel like a blur. My life was all brightcolors. But now ... now my future is agray, mysterious blur. I know. I know. That sounds like something I readin a book. But that's the way I think sometimes. I writepoetry. Long, sad poems. And I write inmy journal every day. Sometimes I wish I didn't have so muchto write about. I still can't talk about what happened without tearsburning my eyes. Growing up in Springfield,my first twelve years were normal and happy. I have wonderful memories. I don't wantto lose them. I hope my journal will help meremember them forever. Then last month, the first part of my life cameto an end. I might as well just say it. My parents... they were killed in a horrible car accident. You can't imagine the shock of it. The days ofcrying ... the questions that repeated and repeated in my
mind. Why? Why did it happen? Sometimes I felt too overwhelmed by sadnessto get out of bed. And sometimes I found myself feelingangry--angry at my parents for leaving mealone. Where will I live now? I wondered. Who will I be? Will I still be me? We have such a small family. I was sent to live with my only uncle, Dr.Palmer Jekyll. He and my aunt aredivorced. He lives with his daughter, my cousinMarianna, outside a small village innorthern Vermont. My parents and I visited Uncle Jekyllonly once, when I was five. I don'tremember much about that visit. I remember Uncle Jekyll'sdark, old house, an enormous mansion. Iremember long halls. Big, empty rooms withchairs and couches covered by dusty sheets. I remember the bubbling, churning equipment inmy uncle's lab--electrical coils,tangles of wire, shelves of glass tubes. He's a scientist. I don't know whatkind. I remember his stern face, his skin so paleI could almost see the bone underneath it. His coldgray eyes. His long, bony hands on myshoulders, guiding me out of the lab. Gently butfirmly. "This is not a place for you, Heidi." Iremember his voice, strangely high and soft, awhisper. And what did I say to him as he led me out ofhis lab? What did I say that made him laugh sohard? Oh, yes. I raised my round,five-year-old face to him and asked, "Are youFrankenstein?" He laughed so hard, a high, choking laugh.And then he told my parents, and they laughedtoo. My cousin Marianna was the only one whodidn't laugh. She was five too, so shy she barely spokea word. I remember thinking how pretty shewas, with her big brown eyes and curly blackhair down to her shoulders. With my straight light brown hair and greeneyes, I felt so drab and colorless nextto her. Marianna stayed in her room a lot. Whenshe spent time with us, I found her staring at me.Studying me as if I were some kind of strangezoo animal. Why didn't she want to talk to me? Didn't she like me? These are some of the questions I asked myself as the busbounced north along the narrow Vermont highway,taking me to my new life. Outside my window, golden beams ofsunlight shot through the tall, snow-covered pines.There are no billboards allowed on the roads inVermont. It's so pretty and uncluttered here,I thought. No billboards. And not many cars. I sighed. I hope it isn't too boring atUncle Jekyll's. ... The bus curved sharply along the narrow road.The old woman sitting in front nearly fellout of her seat. She and I were the onlypassengers. Behind the endless trees, I saw a smallcreek that followed the road. Sunlight sparkledon its frozen surface. My face pressed against the glass, I gazedout at the glistening light. The hum and bounce of thebus, the light on the icy creek--it kind ofhypnotized me. I didn't realize when the bus stopped.Blinking hard, I turned to the front. The oldwoman had vanished! My mouth dropped open in surprise. ThenI saw the open bus door and realized she hadclimbed out. The driver, a big, sweaty, round-facedman, poked his head around. "Shepherd Falls,"he announced. "Everybody out." Everybody out? That was kind of funny since Iwas the only passenger. I pulled on my blueparka, tugged my backpack from the overheadrack, and made my way to the front. "Is someone meeting you?" the driver asked. I nodded. "My uncle." He squinted at me. "No bags?" "I sent them on ahead." I thanked him andstepped out into the sunlight and cold, fresh air.Sweet-smelling. Piney. I turned to the bus station, a tiny white-shingledshack. No cars in the small parking lot. Asign over the narrow glass door read: GATEONE. I chuckled. The building was much too smallfor a GATE TWO. Hoisting my backpack onto one shoulder, Imade my way into the building. My back and legmuscles ached from the long ride. I triedto stretch as I walked. "Uncle Jekyll?" I was so sure he'd bewaiting inside, I called out to him. But no. No one in the tiny station. My heart started to pound. My hands feltcold and wet. Take it easy, Heidi, I instructedmyself. Who wouldn't be nervous starting a wholenew life with people you don't know in a tinyvillage far from home? The ticket window at the far wall was closed.Two long wooden benches stretched in the centerof the room. No one sitting there. Someone hadleft a newspaper on the floor beside the frontbench. Uncle Jekyll knew I was coming, I toldmyself. So where is he? What kind of a welcome is this? I started to cough. Probably from the dust in thestation. I'm very allergic to dust. My cough echoedaround the empty room. I turned and hurried back outside. HadUncle Jekyll pulled into the parking lot? No. No sign of him. "I don't believe this!" I muttered to myself. Shielding my eyes from the sun, I spotted apay phone on the side of the station. I'd bettertry calling him, I decided. I dropped aquarter into the slot and punched in 4-1-1. The Information operator had a New Englandaccent. "I'd like the number of Dr. PalmerJekyll," I told her. I spelledJekyll for her. She mumbled something. I heard the rattle ofkeyboard keys. "I'm sorry, dear," she announced. "Thatnumber is private. It's unlisted." "But I'm his niece!" I protested. To mysurprise, the words came out shrill and frightened. "We're not allowed to give the number out," theoperator replied gently. "I'm reallysorry." Me too, I thought bitterly. I hung upthe phone. A shadow swept over me. I jumped. Just a bird. Some kind of blackbird, flyinglow over the station. I watched it land on the lowpicket fence that stretched behind the station. Itfluttered its blue-black wings and tilted itshead, watching me. I searched the parking lot again. Empty. Thestraight, snow-covered road leading to the station alsostood empty. "Where is he?" I asked out loud. "Where?" "Where is who?" a voice demanded.
"Huh?" I uttered a startled gasp and spunaround. I stared at a dark-haired boy about my age.He wore a brown sheepskin jacket, opento reveal a blue-and-white ski sweater pulleddown over baggy jeans. "Thank goodness!" I cried. "I thought you were thebird!" The boy squinted at me. "Excuse me?" I pointed to the fence. The blackbird hadvanished. I felt myself blushing. "There was a bird onthe fence, and I thought it talked to me." As soonas I said it, I knew I was just making thingsworse. A gust of wind ruffled the boy's thick brownhair. A smile spread over his face. "Wehave a lot of talking birds here. We're known forthat." We both laughed. I was starting to feel a littlebetter. "Are you waiting for someone?" he asked. I nodded. "My uncle was supposed to pickme up." I glanced down the snowy road. Not asingle car had passed since I arrived. "You got off the bus?" the boy asked. Helooked behind me. I think he was searching for mysuitcases. "I'm from Springfield," I told him. "Ihave to move here. Because ... well ..." Myvoice trailed off. He introduced himself. His name was AaronFreidus. I told him my name. Another gust of wind shook powdery snow from thetrees. I pulled my parka hood up around myhead. "Aren't you in school or something?" Iasked. "It's winter break," he replied. Hekicked a clump of snow. "No school." "Are you waiting for a bus?" I asked. He laughed. "That would be a long wait. Weonly get two buses a week." "Then you just hang out here because it's so exciting?"I teased. Aaron grinned at me. He had a reallynice smile. Actually, he was kind of cute. He pointed to the station. "My mom works thecounter at the luncheonette. On the otherside of the station. I'm just waiting for her to get offwork." I gazed over his shoulder at the road, watchingfor Uncle Jekyll's car. "Have you lived inShepherd Falls all your life?" I asked. He nodded. "Well ... what do you do for fun?" He shrugged. "You can go ice-skating on thecreek. Do you like to ice-skate? And there's amovie theater in Conklin. That's only twentymiles away." Oh, wow, I thought. The only movie theateris twenty miles from here! "Do you have cable?" I asked. Please,please--say you have cable here. "No. But a few people have satellite dishes."He sighed. "Most people can't afford them. You know,people in the village are kind of poor." The late afternoon sun faded behind a cloud. Theair grew even colder. "I think my uncle forgot about me," I said,frowning. "Is there a taxi or something? How doI get to his house?" "Who is your uncle?" Aaron asked. "Dr. Palmer Jekyll." Aaron uttered a startled gasp. His darkeyes grew wide. "Heidi!" he cried."You're not really going to the Jekyll house--areyou? Dr. Jekyll--he ... he's amonster!"
I laughed. Aaron looked so funny with his mouth open and hiseyes bugging wide. Like a character in a comic book. "Give me a break," I said. "But--but--Dr. Jekyll--" Aaronsputtered. "I know, I know. Jekyll and Hyde," Isaid, shaking my head. "Dr. Jekyll drinks apotion and turns into Mr. Hyde, a hideousbeast. Everyone knows that old story." "But, Heidi--" Aaron protested. "It's just a story. It isn't real," Iinsisted. "Can you imagine how many awful jokesmy poor uncle has probably had to put upwith--all because his name is Jekyll?" "Listen to me! You don't understand!" Aaronscreamed. I took a step back. Why was he suddenlygetting so intense? "Just be quiet for a moment," he demanded,breathing hard. "It isn't a joke, Heidi.Some kind of frightening beast has been attacking thevillage. And it--" "Give me a hint," I interrupted. "Ishe big and green, and his name is Godzilla?" I caught the hurt expression on Aaron'sface, and I felt bad about my joke. "You'reserious--aren't you?" I asked. He nodded. With the sun behind clouds, the snow-covered groundhad darkened to gray. Long shadows stretched overthe parking lot. I suddenly had the strange feeling that I was inan old black-and-white movie. I have feelings like that sometimes. I'm a poet,remember? "There's an ugly creature," Aaroncontinued, his eyes locked on mine. "Itterrorizes the village. I mean, it runswild. It wrecks houses and stores. And ithurts people." "What does that have to do with Uncle Jekyll?"I asked. Aaron swallowed. "A lot of people here in thevillage believe your uncle is responsible." "Huh?" I narrowed my eyes at him."You're saying my uncle is some kind of ...creature?" "He might be," Aaron replied, his voicegrowing shrill. "Or he might have created thecreature. He's a scientist, right? Maybe... maybe he's a mad scientist! Maybehe was up in his mansion doing evil experiments,and--" "Enough!" I cried. I turned and walkedaway. "I know what you're doing, Aaron. It'sthe old let's-scare-the-new-girl gag." Ispun back to him angrily. "But I'm notfalling for it. No way I'm going to believesuch a goofball story." Again, the hurt expression creased his face."His name is Jekyll, right?" he askedsoftly. "Maybe he's a great-great-grandsonof the original Dr. Jekyll. Maybe--" "But that's just a story!" I cried. "Do youknow the difference, Aaron? There's fiction--andthere's nonfiction. Dr. Jekyll isfiction." "But the monster is real," he insisted."Everyone in the whole county is afraid to go outat night. We only have four police officersin the village. They don't know what to do." "They should stop watching scary movies atnight," I joked. "Then they wouldn't have thesenightmares." "Fine. Okay," Aaron snapped angrily."Don't believe me. Make jokes. But youshould know this, Heidi. The villagers want youruncle arrested. The police just haven't been ableto find enough proof." "How do you know so much about the police?" Idemanded. "My cousin Allan is on the force," hereplied. "Besides, it's a small village.Everyone knows everything around here. Even the kids." I stared hard at him, studying his face. Heseemed sincere with this monster story. But of courseit was a joke. It had to be. I shivered. "I've got to get to UncleJekyll's." I sighed. "Is there a taxi?" He shook his head. "You can walk there. It'sonly about twenty minutes or so from here." "Point me in the right direction," I said. He pointed to the road. "Just follow it. Itgoes up through the trees. Up a pretty steephill. But the street was plowed this morning. Thesnow won't be a problem. Your uncle's houseis at the top of the hill." I squinted at the trees, heavy with snow."Does the house have a street number oranything?" "No," Aaron replied. "But you can't missit. It's a huge mansion. It looks like anevil castle in an old horror movie.Really." "Yes, I kind of remember it," I said.Then I had an idea. "Can you walk me there?Can you come with me?" Aaron lowered his eyes to the ground. "I ...can't," he murmured. He grabbed my arm."Please, Heidi. You understand, right? I don'twant to die."
I knew Aaron was kidding me. I knew hiswhole story had to be some kind of joke.But why did I see so much fear in his eyes? Was he just a good actor? "Well, maybe I'll see you around," Isaid. "You know. In town. Or in school." "Yeah. Catch you later." He turned andran toward the bus station. He glanced back atme once, then disappeared around the back. He's probably hurrying to tell his mom aboutthe joke he played on the new girl in town,I decided. The two of them are probablylaughing their heads off now. I took a deep breath, tightened my parkahood over my head, and started walking. Thehard-packed snow crunched under my DocMartens. Glittering snow-drops fell from thetrees, silvery in the late afternoon sun. "What a horrible day," I murmured. First,Uncle Jekyll doesn't show. Then I meeta kid who just wants to terrify me with a stupidjoke about how my uncle is a monster. Then Ihave to walk all the way to his house in the freezingcold. The narrow road sloped up a low hill through thevillage. I studied the small shops. Abarbershop with a snow-covered barber pole, ageneral store, a tiny post office with a flutteringflag over the door, a gun store with a display ofhunting rifles filling the window. This is it, I realized. The whole village.Just two blocks long. A snowy side street curving up from the mainroad had rows of little houses on each side.They looked like tiny boxes, one after another. I wondered if Aaron lived in one of thosehouses. I leaned into the gusting wind and followed the roadup the hill. As I left town, the woodsbegan again. The tree branches creaked andgroaned, shifting in the breeze. I heardsmall animals scuttling over the ground.Squirrels, I thought. Or maybe raccoons. The road curved sharply. I still hadn'tpassed a single person or car. My backpackbounced on my shoulders as I climbed. "Oh." I uttered a sharp cry as UncleJekyll's house suddenly came into view. Thehouse--it did look like an evil castle from anold horror movie. Wet snow-drops from the trees blew into myeyes, blurring my vision. I wiped thesnow away and stared up at the enormous dark stonemansion. My new home. A sob escaped my throat. I quicklyswallowed it. You're going to be fine, Heidi, I toldmyself. Don't start feeling sorry for yourself before youeven give it a chance. "It's an adventure," I murmured outloud. Yes. I planned to think of my new life asan adventure. My eyes on the house, I trudged up thesteep hill. My shoes slipped in the wetsnow. The wind swirled around me, roaring louder asI approached the top. A few minutes later, I stepped into theshadow of the house. The sun seemed to disappear. Iblinked in the blue-gray darkness. And made my way onto the stone steps that ledto the black wooden door. I pushed thedoorbell. Why was I shaking all over? From the cold? I brushed wet snow-drops from the front ofmy parka and pushed the doorbell again. And waited. Waited. Trembling. Breathinghard. Finally, the heavy door creaked open. A head poked out. A pretty girl's faceringed by long black curls. Marianna! "Hi--" I started. But I didn't get another word out. "Get away from here!" she whisperedfuriously. "Get away while you can!"
"Huh?" I gasped and nearly fell off thestone steps. "Marianna--what do you mean?" Her dark eyes flashed. She opened her mouthto reply. But she suddenly stopped. I heard the click of footsteps approachingon the hardwood floor. Marianna turnedback to the house. A maid in a black uniform and white apronappeared. "It's my cousin Heidi,"Marianna explained to the young woman. The maid laughed. "Well,Marianna, aren't you going to let her in?" Marianna narrowed her eyes at me, as ifwarning me again. Then her face went blank, noexpression at all. She pulled open the heavydoor and motioned for me to enter. "This is Sylvia," Marianna said, pointingto the maid. "She will help you unpack." "Your bags arrived two days ago,"Sylvia said. "Did you walk from the station?" I nodded. I still had my parka hood up. Itugged it down and started to unzip my coat. "I reminded Dad this morning that you were coming,"Marianna said, shaking her head. "Heprobably forgot." "You must be frozen," Sylvia said, taking mycoat. "I'll make something hot to drink." Shehurried away, her shoes clicking on thefloor. I glanced around. Marianna and I stood in adark entryway. High overhead, a large glasschandelier cast pale light that hardly seemedto reach the floor. The walls were papered darkgreen. The aroma of roasting meat filled theroom. I turned to Marianna. She was tall, atleast six inches taller than me, and thin. Herblack curls flowed down behind a heavyred-and-white plaid ski sweater. She woreblack leggings that made her look even taller. Again--seven years later--I felt pale andcolorless standing next to her. She crossed her arms over the front of hersweater and led me into a large living room. Afire blazed in a stone fireplace at one end.Heavy brown leather furniture faced thefireplace. Enormous paintings of snowy-peaked mountainlandscapes covered one wall. The curtains werepulled halfway over the front window, allowingin only a narrow rectangle of light. "How are you?" I asked my cousin, forcing someenthusiasm. "Okay," she replied flatly. "Are you on winter break?" I asked. She nodded. "Yeah." Her arms were still crossedtightly in front of her. "How is Uncle Jekyll?" I tried. "Okay, I guess," she replied, shrugging."Real busy." Marianna is as shy as ever, Idecided. But then I asked myself: Is she shy--orunfriendly? I kept trying to start a conversation. "Where isUncle Jekyll? Is he home?" "He's working," Marianna replied, movingto the window. "In his lab. He can't bedisturbed." She turned her back to me and stared outat the snow. "Well ... shouldn't I tell him I'mhere?" I asked. I picked up a small blueglass bird. Some kind of hawk. I neededsomething to do with my hands. The glass bird wassurprisingly heavy. I set it back down. Marianna didn't answer my question. "I walked through the village," I said."It's pretty tiny. What do you do for fun?Where do you hang out? I mean ... there are otherkids our age, right?" She nodded, but didn't reply. The graylight flooding in from the window made her look likea beautiful statue. When she finally uncrossed her arms and turnedto me, she had the coldest expression on herface. Cold as stone. "Want to see your room?" she asked. "Yes. Definitely!" I replied. Ifollowed her to the front stairway. I slid onehand over the smooth black banister as we madethe steep climb. Marianna is just very shy, I decided. Shemust feel so weird, having a total stranger,someone her own age, move in with her. "I--I hope we can be like sisters," Iblurted out. A strange, snickering laugh escaped herlips. She stopped on the stairs and turnedback to me. "Sisters?" "Well ... yeah," I replied, my heartsuddenly pounding. "I know this must be kind of hard foryou. I mean--" She sneered. "Kind of hard? You don't knowanything, Heidi." "What do you mean?" I demanded. "Tellme." She swept her black curls back over hershoulders and continued climbing. We reached thesecond floor. I stared up and down an endless hallway ofdarkly flowered wallpaper. The airfelt cold and damp. Lights on torch-shapedwall sconces cast a pale glow down thehall. Most of the doors were closed. "That's my room there," Marianna said,pointing. It appeared to be a mile away at theend of the hall. She pushed open a heavy door."And this is your room." I shut my eyes as I stepped inside. Iknew it was going to be gross. Dark anddepressing. When I opened my eyes, I smiled insurprise. "Not bad," I murmured. The room was totally cheerful. Afternoon sunlightpoured in through airy, light curtains on twolarge windows. I quickly took in a single bed withmy suitcases opened on it, a little woodendesk, a tall dresser, two modern-lookingchairs. Not bad at all. One wall had floor-to-ceilingbookshelves jammed with books. Marianna stood in the doorway watching me."You'll probably want to take Dad's oldbooks out and put your own stuff on the shelves,"she said. "No. I like books," I replied. "Didmy computer arrive? And my CD player?" "Not yet," Marianna replied. I moved to the window, pushed the curtainsaside, and peered out. "What a great view!" Iexclaimed. "I can see all the way down thehill to the village!" "Thrills," Marianna muttered. I turned to face her. "Are you in a badmood or something?" She shrugged. "Sylvia will help you unpackyour suitcases, if you want." "No. I want to do it myself," I replied.I walked to a door next to the dresser. "Isthis the closet?" I didn't wait for her to answer. I pulledopen the door and stared into an endlessly longcloset with shelves and poles on both sides. "Wow!" I exclaimed. "This is awesome! Thiscloset is almost as big as my whole roomback home!" Back home ... The words caught in my throat. I wassurprised by the wave of emotion that swept overme. Tears brimmed in my eyes, and I quicklywiped them away. I leaned into the closet so Marianna wouldn'tsee me cry. Get over it, Heidi, Iscolded myself. This is your home now. But I wasn't over it. I wasn't over the tragedy that had changed mylife, that had brought me to this strange house in thistiny New England village. I'll never get over it, I thoughtbitterly, picturing my parents' smilingfaces. I took a couple of deep breaths. Then Istepped out of the closet. "Marianna, this closetis really--" She wasn't there. She had vanished. "What is her problem?" I asked out loud. I moved to the bed and started pulling T-shirtsand tops from the first suitcase. I carried them to thedresser and began piling them in a drawer. Thedresser smelled a little mildewy. I hoped myclothes wouldn't pick up the smell. I filled up the first drawer, then stopped. Ireally should say hi to Uncle Jekyll, Idecided. I really should let him know that I'vearrived. Tugging down the sleeves of my sweater, Ihurried out into the hall and made my way to thesteps. My heart started to pound. I hadn't seenUncle Jekyll since I was five. Would he be happy to see me? I hope hegives me a warmer welcome than Marianna,I thought nervously. "Heidi--where are you going?" I turned at the sound of Marianna's voicefrom down the hall. She poked her head out of herroom. "Down to say hi to Uncle Jekyll," Itold her. "He's in his lab. You really shouldn't disturbhim," she called. "I'll just say hi and then hurry out," Ireplied. I ran into Sylvia at the bottom of thestairs. She pointed me in the direction of myuncle's lab. Down another long hallway. I stopped infront of the lab door. I raised my hand to knock. But a loudnoise on the other side of the door mademe jerk my hand back. It sounded like an animal grunt. A pig,maybe. I held my breath and listened. Another pig grunt. Followed by frighteningcries. Like an animal caught in a trap.An animal in pain. I couldn't stand it any longer. I pushed open the door. My uncle stood hunched over a long table withhis back to me. His long white lab coat camedown nearly to the floor. He dipped his head. And I heard anothersqueal. Not a human cry. An animal cry. It's true! I thought, frozen in terror. He really is acting out the oldJekyll-Hyde story. Uncle Jekyll drank some weirdchemicals. And he turned himself into a terrifyingcreature! And then as I stared at him from the doorway, heturned. Slowly, he turned to face me. And I uttered a horrified gasp.
I couldn't help myself. My mouth droppedopen as I gaped at him. No. He wasn't a monster. But Uncle Jekyll looked so old! So mucholder than how I remembered him. My mind quickly did the math. He must be in hisearly forties, I figured. But his hair hadturned completely white. He had bags under his red-rimmed eyes anddeep, craggy wrinkles down his cheeks. Hisskin was so pale and dried out, no color atall, as if he had been sick for a long time. "Heidi?" he cried out. He dropped the animal he had between his hands.A guinea pig, I thought. It hit the lab tablewith a PLOP. Then, squealing loudly, it jumpedto the floor and scampered across the lab. "Oh. Sorry," I murmured. The animal must have been making those grunts andhowls, I realized. The surprise faded from Uncle Jekyll'sface, replaced by a smile. "Heidi--you'vegrown! You've become a young woman! ButI'd recognize you anywhere!" He moved forward and hugged me. His skinsmelled of chemicals. His cheek felt dry andscratchy. When he backed away, his chin was quivering, andhis pale gray eyes were wet. He looks a hundred years old! I thought.What has happened to him? His smile faded. He slapped his forehead."I was supposed to pick you up!" he groaned. "That's okay--" I started. "I'm so sorry." He shook his head. Hislong white hair looked as if it hadn't beenbrushed in weeks! "My work. I'm so involvedin the lab. ..." "A boy at the bus station gave medirections here," I told him. "It was noproblem. Really. And Marianna showed me myroom." He sighed. "I've become such a madscientist, sometimes I work in here for days and losetrack of the time." The equipment chugged and rattled behind him. Isaw a wall of cages. Little white creatures,mice and guinea pigs, peered out from some of them. I heard a long, mournful cry from a roombehind the lab. It sounded like the howl of a dog. "You're doing important work here," I saidawkwardly. He nodded. "Yes. I hope to make amajor discovery soon." He sighed again. "But ithas been very difficult." He brushed a hand through the thick tufts of hiswhite hair. His gray eyes studied me for along moment. "Is your room okay?" he asked. "Wetried to brighten it up, to make it cheerful. This oldhouse is a pretty gloomy place." "The room is fine," I replied."Marianna helped me--" "You will be good for Marianna," UncleJekyll interrupted. "Marianna needs someoneher age." "She still seems so ... quiet," I blurtedout. He nodded. "She is lonely in this big, oldhouse with just her crazy father for company. And Ispend so much time on my work. I hope you will notfeel neglected, Heidi." "No. I'll be fine--" I started. "I hope that you and Marianna ..." UncleJekyll's voice trailed off. He lowered hiseyes to the floor. "I hope so too," I said quickly. "It ...it's like I'm starting a whole new life here,Uncle Jekyll. And I'm going to try mybest to make it great." He hugged me again. "So much trouble," hemurmured. "So much sadness." When he steppedback, his chin was quivering again. What did he mean? Was he talking about my parents? About theaccident? Or did he mean something else? Some otherkind of trouble? I started to the door. But Uncle Jekyll'swords reminded me of Aaron. And of the strangestory Aaron told me. I turned back to my uncle. "There issomething I wanted to ask you about," I said. Uncle Jekyll had returned to the labtable. He raised his eyes from a thicknotebook. "What is it, Heidi?" "Well ..." I hesitated. "This boy Imet at the bus station ... He lives in thevillage. I think he was joking with me. You know.Teasing the new girl in town. But he told meabout a beast--" To my shock, Uncle Jekyll's pale,pale face turned a bright tomato red."No!" he screamed. "No! NO!"
"Huh? I'm sorry!" I choked out, backingtoward the door. Uncle Jekyll's eyes bulged. His facedarkened nearly to purple. "There's no beast!"he shrieked. "Don't listen to those crazystories!" He slammed the table furiously with hisfist. "No beast!" "So-sorry," I stammered again. I turned and ran out of the lab. A fewseconds later, the door slammed behind me. I stood there in the dark hallway, strugglingto catch my breath. Uncle Jekyll's angrywords rang in my ears. And I couldn't erase thesight of his purple face, his furious eyes, hisfist pounding the table. Why did he totally lose it like that? Was he telling the truth? If he was, whydid he have to scream? Or did Aaron tell the truth? Did thebeast exist? And did it live inside this house? A hand squeezed my shoulder. I jumped about a mile. I turned to see Sylvia. "I'm sorry,"she apologized quickly. "I didn't meanto startle you. Would you like me to help you unpack?" "No--" I told her. And then I hadto tell her what had just happened. "UncleJekyll freaked out. I asked him a question, and hestarted screaming at me." She nodded and brought her face close enoughto whisper, "Your uncle is under a great deal ofpressure." My heart was still pounding. "But he went totallyballistic!" I cried. "He is a good man," Sylvia said softly."But his work sometimes drives him over the edge." I stared hard at Sylvia. What was shetrying to tell me? Over the edge? What did that mean? That Uncle Jekyll wasthe beast that Aaron had warned me about? No. No way. Calm down, Heidi, I scolded myself.Don't let your imagination run wild. Sylvia tucked her hands into the pockets ofher white apron and led the way up the longstairway to my room. I wanted to unpackby myself. But I let her help me. I didn'tfeel like being alone. When we finished, I searched for Marianna.I knocked on the door to her room. But shedidn't answer. So I explored the old house by myself for awhile. Uncle Jekyll's bedroom was a fewdoors down from Marianna's. I found a smallstudy, crammed with shelves of books on allfour walls. Another small bedroom was neat and cheerful.Probably a guest bedroom, I decided. Iwondered if my uncle ever had guests. Most of the other rooms on the second floorwere empty, except for dust and thick cobwebs.A few rooms had furniture covered with oldsheets and blankets. Maybe I can have my own study, I thought. Alittle den where I can put my CD playerand my computer. A place to hang out with my newfriends. New friends ... I wished the school was open. I felt soeager to meet some kids my age. I moved down the long hall, pulling opendoors, exploring. I pulled open the door to asmall closet--and startled a tiny gray mouse.The mouse stared up at me for a second, thenscampered behind a broom. "Whoa!" I murmured. I shuddered. Are theremice in my room too? The next room gave me an even biggerscare. As I pulled open the door, light from thehallway swept over the wallpaper--and Igasped. The room was bare inside, except for twosmall armchairs, both covered with sheets, standingside by side like ghosts in the middle of the room. But the dark green wallpaper ... the walls... the walls ... They were covered with scratches. Long, deep scratch marks. Like ruts cutinto the walls. As if some animal had raked its claws overthe walls ... clawed them ... clawed them ...until the wallpaper on all four walls stoodscratched and shredded. An animal ... a creature ... I backed out into the hall. Heard loud breathing. And realized I wasn't alone.
"Marianna!" I gasped. Her dark eyes burned into mine. "Heidi,what are you looking at?" "This room--" I choked out. "The walls ...They're all scratched. The wallpaper is inshreds. As if ..." I didn't finish mythought. Marianna stared at me for a moment longer. Thenshe turned her eyes away. "George didthat," she said softly. "Huh? George?" "Our cat. We had a very bad cat," sheexplained. "He couldn't stand to be by himself. Oneday, he got locked in this roomby accident. And he went nuts." I peered in at the long scratch marks. Theystarted halfway up the wall. How could a cat reach up that high? How could one cat shred all four walls? Andmake such deep ruts? "What happened to George?" I asked. Marianna still had her eyes turned away."Dad had to put the poor guy to sleep," shereplied. "We had no choice. He was just toocrazy." She took my arm. "Come on, Heidi. Icame to bring you down to dinner." She smiled for thefirst time. "A miracle is taking place tonight." "Huh? A miracle?" I asked, followingher down the stairs. "What miracle?" "Dad is actually joining us. He usuallyworks right through dinner. But tonight, in your honor--" I stopped her at the bottom of the stairs."I said something wrong when I saw him," Itold her. "I think I got him angry atme." She raised her dark eyebrows. "Angry?Dad?" I nodded. "I met a boy at the bus station.His name is Aaron Freidus. Do you know him?" Marianna nodded. "He goes to my school." I glanced around the room to make sureUncle Jekyll wasn't around. "Aaron toldme a weird story," I whispered to Marianna."A very frightening story. About a beast that's beenattacking the village." Marianna gasped and squeezed my arm. Herhand was suddenly ice-cold. "You mentioned that to mydad?" I nodded. "And then he freaked out." "He's very sensitive about that," Mariannawhispered. "Don't worry. He wasn'tangry at you. He gets angry at thevillagers. They give him a lot of trouble ...about his work. He says they make up stories becausethey are ignorant." "So Aaron's story isn't true?" Iasked. She made a face. "Of course not." She let go of my arm and led the way to the diningroom. Outside the front window, I saw abright half moon rising over the bare trees. Thetree branches bent and swayed. Wind rattledthe old windowpanes. The dining room was bright and cheerful. A crystalchandelier sent sparkly light down over the long,white-tableclothed table. Uncle Jekyll was already seated at the headof the table. He had removed his lab coat. Hewore a blue denim work shirt over khakis.His thick white hair had been slicked down. He smiled as Marianna and I entered theroom. Then he motioned with his big hands for usto take our seats across from each other. "Where were you?Heidi, I hope you didn't get lost." "No. Marianna is a good guide," Isaid. "But this house would be easy to get lost in,"I added. He patted my hand. "Don't worry.You'll learn your way around quickly." Sylvia brought in steaming bowls of chowder. "This is real New England clam chowder,"Uncle Jekyll said, lowering his head to the bowl andinhaling the steam. "Look at all those clams.Bet you didn't have chowder like this inSpringfield." I laughed. "No. Our chowder came from acan." My uncle's good mood, the bright, sparklyroom, and the wonderful aroma of the creamy, thickchowder were helping to cheer me up. We had a very pleasant dinner. UncleJekyll did most of the talking. Marianna atesilently and only spoke when asked a question. ButI was beginning to feel a lot more comfortable, a lotmore welcome. As we ate dessert--warm apple pie withvanilla ice cream--Uncle Jekyllrecalled my last visit. He told once againthe story of how I asked him if he wasFrankenstein. He and I laughed all over again. Mariannaate her dessert silently, eyes lowered. "You thought I was a mad scientist even then,"he said, grinning, his silvery-gray eyessparkling in the chandelier light. "And, of course,you were right!" he joked. "If your name is Jekyll, you have nochoice," my uncle continued, swallowing a bigspoonful of ice cream. "You have to be a madscientist. People expect it of you. I guess ifI wasn't a scientist--" "Dad, please--" Marianna interrupted.Bright pink circles had erupted on hercheeks. She appeared embarrassed by what he wassaying. Uncle Jekyll ignored her. He waved hisspoon in the air. "I think the original Dr.Jekyll got a bum rap," he continued."Everyone thought he was a villain. But Dr.Jekyll was actually a brilliant scientist." I laughed. "A brilliant scientist? Ithought he drank stuff that turned him into an evilbeast." Uncle Jekyll nodded. "But you have to bebrilliant to invent a formula that will change aperson so completely. Can you imagine finding suchan exciting formula?" "Dad--please!" Marianna begged. "Do wereally have to talk about this?" "Of course we have pills today that change people,"he continued. "We have pills to make you sleepy,pills to make you calm. But imagine if someoneinvented something that totally changed your wholepersonality. That changed you into an entirelydifferent creature! Wow!" Across the table from me, Marianna gritted herteeth angrily. "Dad--if you don't changethe subject ..." "Okay, okay." He raised his huge,bony hands in surrender. "But I still think theoriginal Dr. Jekyll was misunderstood."
Later that night, I thought about our dinnerconversation as I got ready for bed. Why had itupset Marianna so much? I wondered. At first, she had seemed embarrassed. Thenshe became angry. She definitely didn't want her dadto talk about strange formulas that totally changedpeople. Why not? Because it frightened her? Or because she knows a secret? A secret abouther dad. About the mysterious work he is doing in hislab. No, Heidi. I scolded myself again.Don't jump to crazy conclusions. Forget aboutAaron's dumb story. I shivered as I pulled on a flannelnightshirt. My room was cold and drafty. ButI moved to the window and pulled it open a fewinches. Even in the winter I can't sleep with the bedroom window closed. I have to have fresh air. A cold breeze fluttered thecurtains around me. I backed away from them,turned off the lamp on my bed table, and climbedunder the heavy quilt on my bed. My first night in my new room. The sheets felt scratchy. And the heavyquilt smelled of mothballs. Shivering, I pulled the quilt up to my chin andwaited to warm up. Silvery moonlight washed inthrough the window. The curtains fluttered softly. I shut my eyes and tried to clear my mind. So much had happened to me. So many changes.So much to think about. I knew it would take me a long time to fallasleep. No matter how hard I tried, Icouldn't shut off my mind. The faces of my friends back in Springfieldfloated in front of me. Then I saw myparents, looking so healthy, so happy. I sawmy school ... the house I grew up in ... I thought about my bus ride. About Aaron. About Marianna's strange, unfriendly greetingat the front door ... Faces ... pictures ... so many words ... I was just drifting off to sleep when the terrifyingscreams began.
I sat straight up, my heart pounding. Another high, shrill scream. From right outside my window? I kicked off the heavy quilt and startedto climb out of bed. My legs were tangled in thesheet, and I nearly fell. The curtains fluttered over me as I doveto the open window and peered out. No one near thehouse. The screams were coming from the village. Gazing down the hill, I saw flashing lightsin the town. I heard the wail of sirens, risingand falling. And I saw people running between the houses,running down the main street. Running in smallgroups. Dogs barked. I heard a man shoutingfrantically through a loudspeaker, but I couldn'tmake out the words. "It's like a bad dream," I murmured outloud. I shivered as the cold seeped through mynightshirt. Blown by the strong, steadybreeze, the window curtains swirled behind me. I backed away from the window, the screams andsiren wails still in my ears. I hugged myself,trying to warm up. What is going on down there? I wondered. My first thought was that a fire had broken out. ButI hadn't seen any flames. And then I remembered Aaron's story."We're all afraid to go out at night," hetold me, his dark, serious eyes burninginto mine. The beast? Was there really a beast out there? Uncle Jekyll insisted that the beast didn'texist. He had acted so strange, so angry whenI mentioned it. If there was no beast, no wild, evilcreature that attacked the town--what was happeningdown there? My mind spinning, I lurched to my closet.I searched in the dark for my robe. I'm going downstairs and asking UncleJekyll to explain, I decided. The sirens. The flashing lights. The screamingpeople running from their homes. It really is like a bad dream. Except Iknow I'm awake. "Aaaagh!" I let out a frustrated cry.I couldn't find my robe. Had I unpackedit? This new room--this new closet--Ididn't know where anything was! A sob escaped my throat. Will I everfeel at home here? I wondered. How can I feel at home when there's ahorror movie going on outside my window? I had tossed my jeans and sweatshirt on thechair beside my dresser. I pulled them onquickly, my hands trembling, and hurried into thehall. A single ceiling light near Marianna'sroom at the end of the hall cast a dim circleof light. Squinting until my eyes adjusted,I ran to Uncle Jekyll's room. The door stood half open. I knocked andcalled his name. No answer. I pushed the door open and peered inside."Uncle Jekyll?" No. Not there. The bed was still made. Hehadn't come up to sleep yet. "He must still be in his lab," I murmuredto myself. Marianna said that he worked all hours of thenight. I turned and hurried down the stairs. ThenI made my way along the back hall tillI came to my uncle's lab. "Uncle Jekyll? Are you in there?" The door stood open. Pale fluorescentlight washed down from low ceiling lamps, makingeverything look an eerie green. I poked my head in. "Uncle Jekyll?" The equipment bubbled and churned. A row ofsmall red lights on a machine in the cornerblinked on and off. I stepped into the lab. A sharp, sour aromagreeted my nose. On the long lab table, athick green liquid dripped slowly--one dripat a time--from a high glass tube into a largeglass beaker. "Uncle Jekyll? Are you in here?" I made my way along the table and peered into thelittle room behind the lab. No. No sign of him. I turned to leave. But stopped when my eyeslanded on the object at the edge of the table. A drinking glass. Empty except for a littlepuddle on the bottom and a green film on thesides. I swallowed hard and stepped up to examine theglass. I stared into it. Then I sniffed it. Itsmelled sharp and sour. "Ugh." I backed away. The thick green liquid clung to the sides.Was it the same liquid dripping from the glasstube? Did my uncle drink that stuff? Did he drink that foul liquid and turn himselfinto a creature, a wild beast? Was he down in thevillage now, attacking people, terrifying everyone? "That's crazy!" I cried. My voiceechoed shrilly off the walls of the lab. The red lights blinked on and off. And theDRIP DRIP DRIP of the thick greenliquid into the glass beaker seemed to grow louder. I don't want to live in a horrormovie! I told myself. I covered my ears with my hands. I couldn'tstand the blinking lights, the bubbling, churning, anddripping. I ran out of the lab. Down the back hall,searching every room for him. The kitchen. Thedining room. A den I hadn't seen yet. Theliving room. Dark. All dark. No sign of Uncle Jekyll. If he wasn't down in the village,terrorizing everyone, where was he? I stopped at the front stairs, breathinghard. I leaned on the smooth wood of thebanister, waiting to catch my breath. And then my entire body went cold--and Ifroze in fright as the heavy front door creakedand swung open.
I gripped the banister and gaped in silence asUncle Jekyll staggered into the house. His white hair shot out wildly around his head,as if it had been shocked with electricity. Hispale eyes bulged. His face was smeared withdirt. He didn't see me. He shut his eyestight as if he were in pain. He uttered a lowgroan as he bumped the door closed with hisshoulder. The sleeve of his black overcoat was rippedat the shoulder. His blue work shirt had comeuntucked from his pants. Long, muddy smearsran down the front of the shirt. Most of thebuttons were missing. Wheezing loudly, Uncle Jekyll lurchedacross the front entryway. His boots left atrail of muddy prints on the floor. The legsof his pants were stained, one knee torn. I gripped the banister tighter. I wantedto disappear. I didn't want him to see me there.I didn't want him to explain where he had beenor what he had done. I didn't want to know. It was all too terrifying. "Heidi--" I shuddered when he rasped my name. Isqueezed the banister so hard my hand ached. "Heidi? What are you doing down here?" hedemanded, moving closer, eyeing me warily. "I--I couldn't sleep," I choked out. "Iheard noises. Screams and things." He tried to push down his hair, but it remainedwild and standing straight up. His pale grayeyes searched my face, as if tryingto see inside me, to find out what I knew.What I suspected. "Uncle Jekyll--" I said in a tremblingvoice. "Where did you go?" "For a walk," he answered quickly. Hescratched his cheek. "I like the air late atnight. I often take a long walk around thehill when I have finished my work." "But your clothes--" I started to protest."Your face--" "I fell," he answered quickly. A strangesmile spread over his mud-smeared face. "Imust look a sight. Sorry if I frightened you,Heidi." "You ... fell?" My eyes went to the missingbuttons on his shirt, the tear at the knee of hispants. He nodded. "The tall grass is so slickafter a heavy frost," he said. "I wasn'twatching where I was going. I was foolish. Iusually bring my flashlight, but tonight I forgotit." "And you fell? Are you hurt?" I asked. He sighed. "Not too bad. My head hit alow branch. I couldn't see it in the dark." Herubbed his forehead. "I was so startled, I slippedand rolled halfway down the hill." "That's awful," I declared. Did I believe him? I wanted to. I really wanted to. But I didn't. He rubbed his forehead some more. His eyesremained locked on me. "Next time I'llremember the flashlight," he said. "I could havebroken my neck." "I--I heard screams," I stammered. "Fromthe village. I saw lights and heard sirens.I--" "I don't know what that is," he repliedsharply. "Something bad--" I started. "People were runningand--" "I didn't see anything," he interrupted."I was walking in the woods. I couldn't see thevillage. I didn't hear anything." "It was so frightening," I told him. "Thescreams woke me up." He shook his head and rubbed the back of hisneck. "I'm so sorry," he murmured. Thetenderness in his voice took meby surprise. "It's your first day here," he continued. "I knowhow hard this is for you. I know your whole lifehas been turned upside down, Heidi." "Yes," I agreed. I lowered my head sohe couldn't see the tears brimming in my eyes. "Give yourself time to adjust," UncleJekyll advised, speaking in a whisper. "Thesetiny New England villages can be a littlestrange. Try not to pay attention. Try to letthings slide for a while. You'll be a lothappier if you do." Let things slide? Don't pay attention? What was he saying? That I should ignore thescreams and sirens and people running wildly through thetown? I stared hard at him, trying to understand. He said I'd be a lot happier if Iignored what I heard and saw. Was that advice from a caring uncle? Or a threat?
It took a long time to get back to sleep.The excitement had ended down in the town. No moresirens or screams. A few dogs continuedto bark. But all else was silent. I pulled the quilt up high and stared at theceiling. My mind spun with thoughts of all that hadhappened. Uncle Jekyll was lying to me. I knew that. He hadn't fallen down the hill. And heknew very well what had happened in town. But was he lying to protect me? Orto protect himself? Finally, I fell into a deep, dreamlesssleep. I slept late. When I awoke and went to thewindow, the sun was already high over the winter-baretrees. The snow down the hill sparkled brightly.For a brief second, I glimpsed a deertrotting into a thick cluster of pines. I stretched, smiling as the fresh morning airfloated in through my open window. But my good moodvanished as soon as the frightening memory of the nightbefore swept back into my mind. I have to know the truth, I told myself. I won't be able to relax--until I learnthe truth about Uncle Jekyll. I pulled on a clean pair of blackleggings and a bright yellow wool sweater and hurrieddown to breakfast. But angry, shouting voices made me stop inthe hall outside the kitchen. "I don't have to stay here!" I heardMarianna cry angrily. "I don't haveto live like this!" "Sure, sure," Uncle Jekyll repliedsarcastically. "And where would you go?" "Anywhere!" she shrieked. "Anywhere where Ididn't have to put up with you!" "Keep your voice down," Uncle Jekyllurged, sounding desperate. "The whole housedoesn't have to hear." "I don't care! I really don't care!"Marianna wailed. "I'm so tired of living withso many lies, so many secrets! I--I can't doit anymore, Dad! You're asking too much!" Leaning against the wall, out of sight of the kitchendoor, I clapped my hand over my mouth to keepfrom gasping. What was Marianna saying? Did she know thetruth about her father? My heart pounded as I eavesdropped on theirargument. "I can't have any friends," Marianna was sayingin a trembling, emotional voice. "I can'tinvite anyone over. I have no life, Dad.No life at all. And it's all your fault!" "You have to be patient," Uncle Jekyllreplied heatedly. "You have to give me time,Marianna. You know it isn't my fault." "I don't care!" she shrieked. "I don'tcare anymore!" Uncle Jekyll started to say something else.But I coughed. I didn't even realize I haddone it. Their argument ended instantly. The kitchen wassilent now. I took a deep breath. Put a blankexpression on my face. And tried to actcasual as I walked into the room. Everyone said good morning. Uncle Jekyll smiled. But Mariannagritted her teeth and glanced away. Her bowl of cereal hadn't been touched.Her dark curls fell damply over her face.Her hands were clenched into tight fists on thetabletop. "Would you like some eggs?" Uncle Jekyllasked, the smile plastered on his face."Sylvia can make them for you any way you like." "No. I'll just have cereal." I reached across thetable for the box. "I'm not a big breakfastperson." "Marianna and I were just having a little familydiscussion," Uncle Jekyll said, grinning acrossthe table at her. Marianna scowled and didn't raise hereyes. "Oh, really?" I said. "I missed it." No one said much for the rest of breakfast. Icouldn't wait to take Marianna aside and findout what she knew. I'm not going to let her gountil she tells me everything, I vowed. After breakfast, Uncle Jekyll disappearedinto his lab. He closed the door after him, andthen I heard him lock it. I tracked Marianna down in her room.She was leaning over a small glass cage. Sheheld a cute brown-and-white hamster in her hand. "Who is that?" I asked, trying to sound cheerfuland bright. "Ernie," Marianna replied, not turningaround. The hamster moved from hand to hand. "Ernie ismy best friend in the whole world." "He's cute," I said. I stepped up besideher. "I like his pink nose." Marianna nodded but didn't reply. I took a deep breath. I couldn't waitany longer. I had to hear her story. "I lied this morning," I confessed. "Beforebreakfast. I heard you and your dad." She wrapped Ernie in one hand. Her darkeyes flashed. "You did?" I nodded. "You sounded pretty steamed." Marianna frowned. "We were just talking. Youknow." "No, you weren't," I blurted out. "Iheard what you were saying. About lies andsecrets." She didn't reply. She narrowed her eyesat me thoughtfully. "No big deal," shemurmured. "Come on, Marianna," I pleaded. "Tellme the truth. I heard the screams from thetown last night. From my bedroom window, I cansee everything down there. I heard the sirens. Isaw the people running." "I ... I don't know anything about that," shemurmured. "Yes, you do!" I insisted. "I want to knowthe truth, Marianna. The truth about your dad.You have to tell me. You have to!" Marianna staggered back. Her face contortedangrily. "Leave me alone!" she shrieked,breathing hard. "Don't snoop around, Heidi.Don't do it. Don't try to learn about my father.You'll regret it! I'm warning you!" We both gasped as we looked down at herhand. "Oh, noooo," she moaned. She had squeezed the hamster to death.
I have to get away from this house, I decided. I'd left Marianna sobbing in her room.She refused to listen to my apologies. Andslammed her bedroom door in my face as Ibacked out of the room. I can't believe she killed her hamster, Ithought, shuddering. I can't believe she squeezed itlike that. Now she hates me, I realized. Sheblames me. Blames me ... She didn't like me before. But now she hatesme. Now she'll never tell me what she knows abouther dad. Now she'll never tell me what they were arguingabout this morning. About the lies and secrets ... I felt so upset. My chest fluttered.My stomach felt hard as a rock. "I have to go. ... I have to go," I chantedto myself as I returned to my room. I pulled on my parka and looked for mygloves. I pulled out all my dresserdrawers and got down on my hands and kneesto search the floor of the closet. But I couldn'tfind them anywhere. "Forget the gloves," I muttered. "Soyou'll have cold hands. Get out, Heidi. Getout of the house." I hurried outside. I had to get away fromMarianna and her father. And their creepy, darkmansion. And all of their secrets. The cold, fresh air made my cheekstingle. The bright sun, high in a clear bluesky, felt warm on my skin. I tossed back the parka hood and shook outmy long brown hair. The hard snow crunched undermy boots as I made my way along the walkthat led to the side of the house. From here, I could see the narrow road twistingdown the hill to town. Only a few patches ofsnow here and there. I found an old girls' bike in the garage.It probably belonged to Marianna. I leaned heavily on the handlebars and tested thetires. They seemed full enough to carry me. "Yes!" I cried happily. "Escape!" A few seconds later, I was ridingdown the hill, pedaling hard, the tires bumpingover the unpaved road, my hair flying behind melike a flag. It felt so good. I wanted to sing and shout. Above me, I saw Canada geese soaringhigh in a tight V formation. They honkednoisily as they flew past. Snow-covered pines became a green-and-whiteblur as I whirred downhill. I stood up and pedaled, enjoying the exercise,the cool, sweet air, the feeling of freedom. My good mood lasted until I reached theoutskirts of the village. Then I found myself back in the middle of ahorror movie.
I slowed my bike as the first house cameinto view. I gazed at the metal shed behind thehouse. It lay on its side, one wall smashedin. "Whoa," I murmured. The log fence around thebackyard had a big gap in it. It looked asif it had been ripped apart. Logs were strewnover the snow, broken and bent. The downstairs windows of the next house wereshattered. Shards of glass were scattered over thesnow, reflecting the morning sun. A sidedoor had been ripped off its hinges. It tiltedagainst the wall of the house. It looks as if a tornado swept through here,I thought. I pedaled on. I saw a group of men andwomen standing outside the house on the corner. Theyhuddled around a car in the driveway, talkingquietly, shaking their heads. As I rode nearer, I saw that the carwindshield had been smashed. A millioncracks stretched out in the glass like spiderwebs. The driver's door lay on the driveway besidethe car, bent and battered. The steering wheel,wires dangling, poked out from beneath the car. "What happened?" I called from the street. The men and women turned to me. "Don't youknow?" a woman called. "Are you new here?" a man asked. "Haven'tyou heard?" "Did you crawl out from under a rock?" They seemed so angry, so unfriendly,I turned the corner and rode on. "Be careful!" a man called after me."Don't ride that thing at night!" The bike tires crunched over brokenglass. Two more cars had their windshieldsshattered. A black-and-white police car was parked besidea small brick house on the next block.Two grim-faced officers were helping an oldman reattach his front door. All of the windows in the house were covered withnewspaper. Broken glass littered the frontyard. A few seconds later, I turned anothercorner and found myself on the main street of town.A small crowd had gathered around a red-and-whitetruck, parked in the middle of the street. I pedaled closer, then jumped off my bike.I read the bold letters on the side of the truck:ACTION NEWS 8. Walking my bike up to the crowd, I saw aman with a video camera on his shoulder. In thecenter of the crowd, a young red-haired woman helda microphone. A TV news crew, I realized. Whathappened here last night? I pushed through the circle of people. The reporterpoked the microphone into a familiar face. Aaron! He was talking to the woman, his eyes on themicrophone. He didn't see me. I moved close enough to hear what they were saying. "And so the beast attacked again last night?" thereporter asked him. Aaron gazed at the microphone. "Yes. Itcame running down the hill a little before eleven.And it started tearing things up." "Were you outside that late? Did you see itcome down the hill?" the reporter asked, turningher head and glancing at the snow-covered hillrising over the village. "Well ... no," Aaron replied. "I washome. My parents won't let me go out. Mycurfew is nine o'clock--because of the beast." "Have you ever seen this creature?" the womanasked. A truck rumbled by. "Cut! Wait for the truck! It's toonoisy!" the guy with the camera instructed. They waited for the truck to pass. Thenthe camera guy signaled for Aaron to talk again. "What was the question?" he asked. "Have you ever seen the creature?" the womanrepeated. She pushed the microphone upto Aaron's mouth. "Yes." "Is it human?" "Well ..." Aaron thought hard. "Sort of.It's about the size of a human. And it walks ontwo legs. Except it kind of staggers. Butit's very furry." "Furry?" the reporter asked. Aaron nodded. "It has gray fur allover. On its arms. And its back. And itgrowls like a wolf or something." "So it's an animal?" the woman asked. Aaron rubbed his chin. "I'd say it'shalf-human, half-animal. I'd say--" "Go up on the hill," a woman in the crowdshouted at the reporter. She stepped in front ofAaron and grabbed the microphone. "You wantto get your news story? Don't waste your timedown here. Go up to the big house up there. Dr.Jekyll's house. You want to see the monster?You'll find him in there!" "No, you won't!" I cried. "I livein that house--and there's no monster in there!" I gasped and clapped my hand over my mouth. Why did I say that? Why did I suddenly try to defend UncleJekyll? Why didn't I keep my big mouth shut? With cries of surprise, everyone turnedto stare at me. "Who is she?" someone asked. "I've never seen her before," a young manreplied. Aaron narrowed his eyes at me. "Heidi?What are you doing here?" he whispered. The others stared at me coldly,suspiciously. I'm in trouble now, I realized. I'm in major trouble. "She's a Jekyll? Get her!" anangry voice growled.
I gasped and took a step back. were they going to attack me? No. No one moved. They circled me, staringat me so coldly--as if I were the beast! "My uncle isn't a monster!" I cried,my voice trembling. "And there's no monsterliving in his house." Did I really believe that? I didn't know what to believe. But these peopledidn't know the truth, either. Why should they accuse Uncle Jekyll when theyhad no proof? I took another step back and tripped overmy bike. I'd forgotten I'd set it down onthe pavement. My heel caught the front wheel,and I fell hard, landing in a sitting position ontop of it. The young woman reporter hurried over andreached out her free hand to help me up. Then shepoked the microphone into my face. "Can you takeus inside?" she asked eagerly. I gaped at her. "Excuse me?" "Can you take us inside your uncle's house?Can you let us see for ourselves?" she demanded. "Uh ... well ..." I hesitated. "See? She's lying!" a man shouted. "She's a Jekyll. She's hiding the beast!"a woman cried. "No ... my uncle ..." I stammered."You have to get my uncle's permission," Itold the reporter. Then I turned to the crowd, my heart pounding,my throat so dry I could barely swallow."I'm new here!" I cried. "I just moved here!I ... I don't know anything!" No one moved. No one spoke. They stared so hard at me, as if trying to seeinside my head. They hate me, I thought. They don't evenknow me, and they hate me. And then Aaron stepped forward, moving quickly. His sudden movement startled me. I shrankback, thinking he planned to hurt me. But he bent down and picked up my bike forme. "Heidi, you'd better go," he whispered."Everyone in town is really upset. And scared." "But, I--" I started. "Last night was so terrifying," Aaronwhispered. "No one knows what to do." He handed thebike to me. "Hurry. Go back to your uncle'shouse. You'll be safe there." Will I? I wondered. I jumped on the bike and started pedalingaway. Will I be safe there?
I spent a dreary afternoon in the house. UncleJekyll never came out of his lab. I searched forMarianna but couldn't find her. A freezing rain pounded the windows. The housewas cold and damp. I pulled a heavy woolsweater over two T-shirts, but I still feltchilled. I explored the house for a while, pulling opendoors, searching rooms cluttered with old booksand magazines. I poked my head into the room with the scratchedwalls. I imagined a wild, snarling creaturelocked in there. I pictured it roaring furiouslyas it scraped long, curling claws over thewalls. Shredding the wallpaper ... shredding it... shredding it. With a shudder, I backed out of the frightening room andpulled the door shut. I reminded myself not to goback there. I made myself a sandwich for lunch. Then spentmost of the afternoon reading in my room. A few hours before dinner, a man arrived from thecounty phone company. Sylvia showed him into myroom. I watched happily as he installed aphone on my desk. "Yessss!" I cried after he left, pumpingmy fist in the air. I couldn't wait to try mynew phone. I was desperate to call my friendPatsy back in Springfield. "Well, Heidi? How is it?" she demandedafter we said hi and how much we missed each other."How is your new home?" "Well ..." I hesitated. I didn'twant to tell her how strange and frightening everythingwas. But I couldn't hold it back. I hadto tell someone. "Patsy--it's awful here!" I cried,checking to make sure my bedroom door wasclosed. "My uncle Jekyll--he's totallyweird. My cousin Marianna is so unfriendly.And there's a creature--some kind of creature thatkeeps attacking the village. The people here--" I stopped, breathing hard. And listened. What was that clicking sound I kept hearing? And then I heard breathing. Not Patsy's breathing. He's listening in! I realized. Uncle Jekyll! He's listening on anotherphone! He's spying on me! "What's that about a creature?" Patsydemanded. "You're kidding--right?" "Have-hold on a minute," I stammered. I tossed the phone onto my bed and ran outof the room. I flew down the stairs and into thefront hall. Where was Uncle Jekyll? Where? I wanted to catch him in the act. I wantedto know for sure if he was spying on me. I spotted him on an armchair in the den.Sitting next to the phone. As I burst into the room, I saw him pickup a book and pretend to read it. "Heidi?Hi." He pretended to be surprised to seeme. I stared at him, breathing hard, my mouth open. I'm not safe here, I realized. I'm trapped. I'm a prisoner here. A strange smile spread over UncleJekyll's face. "Are you enjoying your newphone?" he asked.
The next night, I had a frightening dream. Iknew I was dreaming, and I struggled to wake up.But I couldn't escape it. A creature chased me across a snow-coveredfield. Growling, raging at the top of itslungs, it staggered after me on its hind legs. Half-wolf, half-man, it raised itshairy snout to the sky and bellowed. Its redeyes glowed like fire, and thick gobs of yellowsaliva ran down its furry chin. I ran harder, harder. I leaned into a blowingwind and churned my legs, running so hard everymuscle ached. But my shoes slipped on the snowy surface.It was like running on a treadmill. I ran andran but didn't move forward. The beast roared closer. I saw it snap itsjagged-toothed jaws. I felt its hot, sourbreath on my hair and the back of my neck. I tried to run harder. Harder. But Iwasn't going anywhere. My shoes slid over theslick snow. And then I fell. Facedown. The creature leaped on top of me. Its red eyes flamed above me. The thickyellow saliva puddled on my face, steaminghot. "Nooooooo!" I wailed. I triedfrantically to twist away. But it pinned me to thesnow. So heavy ... so heavy I couldn't breathe. And then the creature opened its jaws. Loweredits head. And sank its teeth into my shoulder.
I woke up with a sharp gasp. The beast vanished. The white snow fadedto black. At first, I didn't know where I was. Ittook a few seconds to remember. In a strange bed. In a strange room. I sat up dizzily and rubbed my shoulder.It ached. It felt so sore. From the dream? My nightshirt was drenched with sweat. Iclimbed out of bed and, still shaky, made my wayto the dresser. I clicked on the light. Found aclean nightshirt. And changed. I glanced at the clock. Nearly four in themorning. Dark outside. And silent. Images of the dream floated back to me. Thechase. The horrifying roars of the creature. Thehot breath on my neck. I'll never get back to sleep, Irealized. Maybe if I read for a while,I'll get sleepy again. I took a few deep breaths. "Get overit, Heidi," I told myself out loud. "It was justa dream." I made my way to the wall of books.Uncle Jekyll's old books. There must besomething here to read, I thought. Maybe I can findsomething really boring that will put me right to sleep. On a high shelf, I thought I spotted achildren's book I'd loved as a kid. I reached forit. But my bare foot snagged on the edge of thecarpet. I stumbled forward. My shoulder bumped thebookshelf. "Huh?" As I caught my balance, a boardon the side of the shelf dropped down. I moved over to it. A secret compartment. I'd bumped open a secret compartmentin the bookshelf. I brought my face close and peered inside. "Wow," I murmured. "What's hidden inthere?"
I reached a hand in and pulled out an object.A book. It appeared to be very old. It had a brownleather cover. The leather was cracked and crinkly. I ran a finger over the faded letters on thefront: DIARY. An old diary. I flipped through the pages. They were yellow andbrittle. And covered with words, diary entrieswritten in black ink in a tiny handwriting. "Weird," I murmured. "Who would hidetheir diary inside a bookshelf?" I carried the diary to the chair across from my bedand clicked on the floor lamp. Then, yawning,I settled into the chair and began to examine it. I searched for the owner's name on the insidecovers and on the first page. But the covers wereblank except for yellow-brown age stains.And the first page began with the diary entry forJanuary 1. What year? What year? The book didn't say. No owner. Nodate. I blew dust off the spine. No information there. I flipped through the pages again, careful notto tear the brittle paper. Then I opened thebook somewhere near the beginning. Squinting at thetiny handwriting, I started to read:
... So cold today. The snow coming down insheets, driven by the howling winds. I know I willhowl too. I cannot control it. And I will go out inthe storm. Because the storm inside me is more powerfulthan any snowstorm ...
"Huh?" I stared at the yellowed page,gripping the little book tightly in my lap. What was this person writing about? A storminside him? Was that some kind of poetry? I turned a few more pages and began readingagain: ... I know what I did tonight. I rememberevery scream, every cry of horror. Those poor people.They don't deserve it. They don't deserveme. But I am powerless to control it. At night whenthe urge comes over me, when my body makes itshideous changes ... I must go out. Whatchoice do I have? I must run and rage and howl. And I mustfeed. I know what I am on those terrifying butexciting nights. I am like a wild beast. AndI live for the screams. And for the fear I create...
"Whoa!" I murmured. My heart pounded inmy chest. Wind rattled the windowpanes. I pulled thequilt from the bed over my chair and snuggled underit. I started to read another page:
... Of course I am a human most of thetime. A caring, frightened human. A humanprisoner in this old house. And a prisoner in thisbody that changes at night. A prisoner in thisbody I cannot control. Where does the rage come from? From where does theanger spring--the anger that forces me to kill anddestroy? There are two of us trapped here. Twoprisoners ... the beast and the doctor ...
The doctor? I stared at the tiny handwriting, reading those wordsagain and again until they blurred in front of myeyes. The beast and the doctor ... Trapped in one body? I shut the diary and studied the worn leathercover. Was I holding the diary of the originalDr. Jekyll? Dr. Jekyll, who drank the potion andbecame the hideous, twisted, dangerous Mr.Hyde? But how can that be? I asked myself, gripping thelittle book tightly. Dr. Jekyll wasn't real--was he? And then other questions flooded my mind. ... Did my uncle find this diary? DidUncle Jekyll hide the diary in thesecret compartment? Did Uncle Jekyll study the old diary?Did he learn the original Dr. Jekyll'shorrible secrets? Has my uncle turned himself into a monster? So many questions! I didn't have time to think about answers. I heard footsteps in the hall--and then mybedroom door swung open.
I tried to shove the diary under the quilt."Uncle Jekyll?" I gasped. No. No one there. I realized the breeze from the hallway hadswung the door open. I let out a long sigh ofrelief. Shoving the quilt away, I climbedunsteadily to my feet. I flipped quickly through thediary, searching for the secret formula. No. Nosign of it. I carried the diary to the bookshelf and placedit carefully in its hiding place. Then I closed the secret compartment, turnedoff the lights, and climbed into bed. I shut myeyes, but the tiny handwriting, the frightening words, stilldanced in front of my eyes. The beast and the doctor ... Did Uncle Jekyll find the formula for theoriginal Dr. Jekyll's potion? Was it hiddensomewhere in the diary? Did he follow thedirections and mix it himself? And drink it? Was my uncle the beast that was terrifyingShepherd Falls? I couldn't stay here if he was. I was in terrible danger. I had to learn the truth--fast. But how? Lying in bed, tossing from side to side, wideawake, I thought of a plan. I waited until after dinner the next night.Then I hid in Uncle Jekyll's lab.
I found the lab door closed. I turned theknob, pulled the door open, and crept inside. The equipment churned and bubbled. Onthe long lab table, I saw two glass beakershalf-filled with a purple liquid. A clearliquid dripped from a glass tube into agallon-sized bottle. Uncle Jekyll and Marianna were still at thedinner table. We'd had a quiet--almost silent--dinner. Marianna kept casting angry glancesat her father. Uncle Jekyll pretendedto ignore them. "Are you going out tonight?" he asked her. An odd question. I'd never seen Mariannaleave the house. "I don't know what I'm doing," she mumbledinto her tuna casserole. I asked to be excused, saying I didn'twant any dessert. I knew I had very little time to hide. Myuncle always headed straight for his lab after dinner. My eyes searched the long, cluttered room.Where could I hide? Where could I hide safelybut still be able to spy on Uncle Jekyll? A row of dark metal supply closets acrossfrom the lab table caught my eye. They looked likethe hall lockers at my old school. I darted over to them and began pulling open thedoors one at a time. The narrow closets wereall jammed with equipment. No room for me. I heard Uncle Jekyll's voice out in thehall. He was arguing again with Marianna. I searched desperately for a hiding place. I'm going to be caught! I realized.He'll ask me what I'm doing in here. And Iwon't have an answer. My heart thudding in my chest, I pulled openthe last closet door. Yes! Only a fewtowels on the bottom. I took a deep breath and squeezed inside.I pulled the metal door nearly closed--just asUncle Jekyll stepped into the lab. Peering through the narrow opening, I held mybreath. Did he see me swing the door shut?Could he hear my heart pounding like a bass drum? He moved to the table and inspected the beakers with thepurple liquid. He didn't see me, I realized. Islumped against the back of the closet and slowlylet my breath out. He poured the purple liquid carefully into arack of slender glass test tubes. Then headjusted some dials on the electronicequipment at the end of the table. What is he working on? I wondered. He is working so fast, so urgently. He mustbe in his lab at least twenty hours a day. Why is he working so hard? What is he tryingto do? I hope it is something good, I prayed. Ihope his work has nothing to do with the creature that iswrecking the village. Maybe he's trying to cure a disease, Itold myself. Maybe he's very close. He hasalmost found the cure. And he is working day and nightbecause he knows he almost has it. Or maybe he is in a race with anotherdoctor. Uncle Jekyll wants to cure thedisease before the other doctor beats him to it. I desperately wanted my uncle to begood. I didn't want him to be a madscientist. An evil villain. A ...creature. Please ... I prayed ... Please don'tdrink your formula and turn into a growling beast.Please ... let the people in the town be wrong aboutyou. I watched as his hands moved furiously over thetable. Pouring clear liquids into purpleliquids. Turning knobs and dials. Mixingchemicals from one test tube to another. Holdingglass beakers over a flame until the liquidinside bubbled and steamed. Electricity sizzled over the table. UncleJekyll kept shocking the dark liquid in abeaker with some sort of electric probe. His head bent, his shoulders slumped under thewhite lab coat, he worked feverishly, without everstopping for a second, without coming up for air. I began to feel cramped in the narrowcloset. My knees ached. My back ached.Pressed against the metal sides, my arms hadfallen asleep. This was a big mistake, I decided. I'mnot going to see anything interesting at all. I shouldhave trusted Uncle Jekyll. I shouldn't behiding in here spying on him. I watched him raise a test tube to thefluorescent light over the table. It contained arust-colored liquid that glowed in the light. He studied it for a moment, turning it between hisfingers. Then he tilted back his head. Loweredthe test tube to his mouth. And drank the liquid down. Oh, no, I thought, feeling heavy dreadknot my throat. I pressed a hand over mymouth to keep from crying out. Uncle Jekyll licked his lips. Then heraised another test tube with a green liquidinside--and poured that down his throat too. He swallowed noisily and licked his lips. Then he braced himself. He flattened bothhands on the tabletop and leaned forward. As ifwaiting for the liquids to do something to him. I stared through the narrow opening. I couldn'tbreathe. I couldn't move. Leaning hard against the tabletop, UncleJekyll shut his eyes. His mouth twisted. Hisknees started to collapse. Grabbing the tabletop to keep himself standing, heopened his mouth in a shrill howl of pain. His eyes bulged and rolled in his head. His face turned bright red. Another painful howl escaped his throat. Ananimal howl. A wolf howl. He clamped his eyes shut. He pounded thetable with both hands. He tore at his white hairuntil it stood up in wild tufts. His whole face twisted in agony. And then, with an ugly groan from deep in hisbelly, he spun away from the table. And staggeredto the door. Staggered like an animal, moaning andgrowling. And vanished from the lab. My heart throbbed. My chest ached. Irealized I'd been holding my breath the wholetime. I let it out in a loud whoosh. I pushed open the closet door with myshoulder. And half fell, half leaped out of thenarrow closet. "I don't believe it," I murmured."He is the beast. Uncle Jekyll is thecreature." My head spun. I raised both hands to mycheeks. My skin was burning hot! What can I do? I asked myself. Who can I tell? I've got to stop him. I've got to gethelp for him. But who can help? I couldn't think clearly. I couldn't think ofanything at all. I kept seeing the tortured expression onUncle Jekyll's face. And hearing theanimal howls that burst from his throat. I stared at the empty test tubes lying ontheir sides on the table. How could he drink thatstuff? How? I've got to get out of here, I decided. I turned to the door--and screamed. Uncle Jekyll stood inside the doorway. He had returned to the lab! He was breathing hard, grunting with each breath,staring at me. Staring angrily. "Heidi," he growled. "I'm so sorry yousaw."
He lumbered toward me, his eyes rollingwildly. "Which-what are you going to do?" I stammered. Ibacked away from him, backed up until I hitthe metal closets. He grunted in reply. And grabbed my arm withboth hands. "Uncle Jekyll--stop!" I cried."What are you doing?" "Sorry you saw," he rasped again. His chestheaved up and down. His breath came in hoarsewheezes. "Let go!" I pleaded. But his grip tightened, and he pulled me awayfrom the closets. I tried to pull back, but hewas too strong. He dragged me from the lab. Up the stairs.And pushed me into my room. I spun around to face him. "Why are you doingthis?" I cried. He lurched into the hall and slammed the bedroomdoor shut. I heard the lock click. I dove to the door. "Uncle Jekyll--Ican help you! Let me help you! Don't lockme in here. Why are you doing this?" "For your own good," he replied in a hoarseanimal growl. I heard his heavy footsteps going down thestairs. I tried the door. Locked. He locked mein. "Uncle Jekyll--" I called. I knew he couldn't hear me. Iheard the front door slam. I ran to the bedroom window and peered out into thedarkness. After a few seconds, he staggered into view.I took a deep breath and tried to slow myracing heart as I watched him make his way downthe hill toward the village. After a minute orso, he disappeared into the shadows. "Why?" I murmured, shaking my head."Why?" Does he plan to keep me locked up in hereforever? I asked myself. No. He can't. And then I thought of an even more frightening question:What does he plan to do with me when he getsback? Through the open window, I heard a shrillscream. And then frightened shouts from down the hill. "I have to get out of here," I told myself. I tried tugging the doorknob with all mystrength. Then I tried to batter the door open withmy shoulder. No way. The door was solid oak. I dove to the window. I heard more screams fromtown. Flames shot up. More angry cries.A siren wailed. I leaned out the window and looked down. Atwo-story drop straight to the ground. No treeto climb down. No shrubs below to break myfall. "I can't jump out," I decided. "I'llbreak my neck." Then I spotted the metal rain gutter at thecorner of the house. Rusted, its paint peeling, itran along the roof, then straight down nearly to theground. If I can wrap my hands around it, I canslide down, I decided. But will it hold myweight? Only one way to find out. I leaned farther out the window and reached for it ...reached ... No. It was inches from my grasp. I couldn'tlean any farther. I couldn't reach it. Wait, I thought. I ducked back into theroom and pulled the desk chair to the window. Mylegs trembling, I climbed onto the deskchair. Then I leaned out the window again. Reached ... reached for the gutter. My fingers brushed the rusted metal-- --and then I lost my balance. I felt my body plunging forward ...plunging out the window ... ... and I fell.
I screamed--and grabbed wildly for the gutter. My hands wrapped around it. The rusted metalscraped my skin. I cried out and held on. Sliding ...sliding too fast. The pain grew too intense. My hands flew off the gutter. I landed hard on my back. I didn't feel the landing. I didn't feelanything. My wind was knocked out. I gasped for breath. I'm dying, I thought. But then I pulled in a wheezing breath. And,ignoring the pain, forced it out. Above me, the house came back into view. Andabove it, the sky, pink with a high blanket ofgray clouds. I sucked in another breath. Another. Theair felt so cool. I began to feel again. Felt the snow on theback of my neck. Felt the cold dampness of theground through my clothes. My hands throbbed and burned, burned from slidingon the rusted metal gutter. I sat up. And heard a scream. And sirens down thehill. "Uncle Jekyll--" I choked out. I climbed unsteadily to my feet. The groundrocked and bobbed beneath me. I shut my eyes,waiting for my legs to stop trembling. "I'm okay," I murmured. I bent downand rubbed cold snow on my burning hands. Then I began jogging down the hill. What did I plan to do when I reached thevillage? I didn't know. I couldn't think clearly.But I had nowhere else to run. Maybe I can save Uncle Jekyll, Ithought. A deafening explosion made me stop. Somewherein the village a mountain of flames burst up likea volcano erupting. Shrill screams and cries rose up over theroar of the flames. In the flickeringyellow-orange light, I could see people runningfrantically in all directions. Maybe I can pull Uncle Jekyll awayfrom there, I thought. I instantly realized it was a crazy idea. He was a beast now, an inhuman creature. He had to be stopped. Breathing hard, I reached the edge of thevillage. I heard the crack of gunshots. Iran past an overturned car, its tiresspinning. I turned onto the main street. Policeofficers patrolled, guns out, ready for action.In the orange light of the fires, their faces weregrim and angry. "Get away from here!" a man shouted. It took me a few seconds to realize hewas shouting at me. "Stay out of town!" "The beast is angry tonight!" "Get off the street!" Their shouts rang out over the crackling of thefires, the wail of sirens, the terrifiedscreams. They hurried away, toward a burninghouse on the next block. I turned, eager to get off the street. Too late. "Noooooo!" I uttered a shocked scream asthe creature leaped out from the side of a house. A wolf! A snarling wolf-creature,howling, snapping his wet jaws. Hisgray-and-brown fur bristling. Lumbering forwardstiffly on two legs. His red eyes glowed and then locked on me. I backed across a snow-covered lawn. Toolate to run. Too late to hide. The growling creature moved quickly, arching hisbody for the attack. I searched frantically for a weapon. Astick. A tree branch. Something to use to bat itaway. No. Nothing. With a hideous roar, the beast spread his furryarms--and dove at me.
With a terrified cry, I dropped to the ground.My face plunged into the hard-packed snow. I jerked my head up in time to see the beastsail over me. I tried to scramble away. But before I could climb to my feet, I felta heavy paw on my back. "No!" I gasped. Grunting loudly, the beast pushed me down.Held me down on the snow. "Uncle Jekyll--" I choked out."Please ..." I turned and saw him tilt up his head andsend an animal roar to the sky. And then I saw a figure come running across thestreet. Aaron! Yes. Aaron. Waving a baseball bat infront of him with both hands. "Heidi--run!" he cried breathlessly.Flames from a burning car lit up his face, andI could see the fear on his twisted features."Run!" "I ... can't!" I gasped. "The beast--hehas me pinned down." Aaron came running, swinging the batfuriously. The beast let go of me. Roaring angrily, herose onto his hind legs and spun around to faceAaron. "It's my uncle!" I cried to Aaron. "Thebeast is my uncle! I saw him drink achemical and--" Another angry roar drowned out my words. "Run!" Aaron cried shrilly, his darkeyes reflecting the firelight. "The people--the peopleof the village are going to destroy him! We can'ttake it anymore! They plan to go up the hill,Heidi. They plan to burn down your uncle'shouse!" "No!" I gasped. And then my cry was cut short as the beast shovedme roughly aside. Aaron swung the baseball bat. The beast grabbed it from Aaron's hands--andflung it across the snow. I screamed again as the snarling creature doveat Aaron. The beast picked Aaron up easily in bothhairy paws. Lifted him high in the air. And threw him into the fire.
My entire body locked in horror as Iwatched Aaron disappear into the flames. I forced myself to move. Forced myself to run to thefire to help him. But the beast blocked my path. Clawed atme. Swung a huge, powerful arm. His sharpclaws sliced through my jacket. He swiped again, aiming for my face. I dove to the ground, sprawling onto myelbows and knees. Climbing up, I saw Aaron come scramblingout of the fire. He rolled in the snow. Rolledover and over. And then jumped to his feet. "I'm okay,Heidi!" he called to me, cupping his hands aroundhis mouth. "Run!" I gazed at him for a moment, making sure hewasn't burned. Making sure he really wasokay. The snarling beast lurched at me again. The creature dove with such fury, he lost hisbalance. He slipped to his knees in the snow. And I took off. I ran past the burning car, past houses withtheir windows shattered, past a speeding patrolcar, its siren blaring. Then I headed up thehill. Why was I returning to the house? I had nowhere else to run. Halfway up the hill, I turned back. And to my horror, I saw the snarling beastfollowing me. "Ohhhhh." A terrified moan escaped mythroat. Now what? Now what? I couldn't think. I burst into the house, my chest heaving, mythroat aching. The dark entryway spun before me. Where to go? Where can I hide? Is there anyplace I will be safe? I'll hide until the potion wears off, Idecided. Yes! Maybe the potion will wear off.And then I can talk to Uncle Jekyll, tryto reason with him. Maybe ... Maybe I can convince him to sendme somewhere safe. But where? This is my home now. My home ... But not for long. The villagers will soon be comingto burn it down! And then what? Too many thoughts. I squeezed my hands againstmy head. My brain felt ready to explode! I heard a low growl from outside. In myterror, I had left the front door wideopen! He'll be in here any second. I've gotto hide--now! I decided. I spun away from the door and went running throughthe hall. The door to my uncle's lab stoodopen, all the lights on. I burst inside, panting, my side aching. I glanced around frantically, searching for ahiding place. Should I go back into the closet? Would he findme there? My eyes stopped at the lab table--and anothercrazy idea flashed into my head. Drink the potion, Heidi, I told myself. Drink the same potion your uncle drank--andbecome a beast too. If you don't, you won'tstand a chance. It's the only way you can fight him. Was it a crazy idea? Or a brilliantidea? I didn't have time to decide. I heard thebeast's heavy footsteps in the hall. I lurched to the table. Grabbed the test tube.And raised it to my lips.
Empty. The test tube was empty. I shook it. I peered into it. Of course it was empty. I had watchedUncle Jekyll drink it down. I grabbed up the one beside it. He had drunkfrom both of them. The second one was empty too. It fell from my hand as the beast swept into thelab. His fur-covered feet thudded wetly overthe floor. He pulled his dark lips back,baring jagged wolf teeth. "Uncle Jekyll--" I choked out,backing away. His red eyes locked on mine. Teeth stillbared, he uttered a low animal grunt. And stepped toward me. "Uncle Jekyll--it's me--Heidi," Icalled in a shrill, quivering voice. "Do yourecognize me? Do you know me?" The beast grunted again in reply. "You wouldn't hurt me, would you?" I cried."Please. You wouldn't hurt your own niece--wouldyou?" He opened his jaws in an angry roar andswiped a paw angrily in front of him. Waving his arm in front of him, as if clearinga path, he moved toward me, snarling, grunting,wheezing. I backed up against the wall. Trapped. Nowhere to run. He moved in slowly, steadily. Growlingsharply now. Snapping his jaws. A white frothbubbled over his lips. I raised my hands in front of me, tryingto shield myself. The beast raised both arms to attack. And then I heard a sound behind him. A sound fromthe lab door. The beast stopped--and turned away from me. I gaped over his furry shoulder--and saw afigure hurry into the lab. Uncle Jekyll!
"Heidi--" Uncle Jekyll cried from thedoorway. "Are you okay?" I opened my mouth to reply--but no sound cameout. Uncle Jekyll? Trembling all over, I gazed from the growlingbeast to Uncle Jekyll. I was wrong! I realized to my shock. Uncle Jekyll isn't the beast! The creature raked a paw at UncleJekyll, as if warning him away. Then itturned to me, opened its jaws in an angryroar, and arched its back, preparing to pounce. Uncle Jekyll leaped across the room. Hetackled the snarling creature from behind. Wrapped hisarms around its waist and wrestled it ... wrestledit away from me. The beast struggled to free itself, thrashing itsfurry arms, bending its knees, heaving itsshoulders. But Uncle Jekyll held on tight.Hugging the angry creature ... hugging it ...hugging it ... Until the beast surrendered. Stopped itsstruggles. With a long sigh, the creature lowered its head andshut its eyes. Its shoulders slumped. Itswhole body sagged. And still Uncle Jekyll held on, hugging it,hugging it so tightly, I wondered if it couldbreathe. And as my uncle hugged it, pressing his headagainst the furry back, the creature beganto change. To shrink ... The fur pulled back into the skin. The light faded from the blazing red eyes. Thefrothing snout melted into the face. As I stared in silent shock, the beast shrunk... hunched in on itself ... And when it raised its head, it had turnedback into--Marianna! Her black curls fell wetly, covering herface. Her shoulders heaved up and down. Shepressed her face against her father's chest. Andcried softly. Uncle Jekyll held her tightly. Andraised his sad, red-rimmed eyes to me."Heidi, I locked you in your room to keep yousafe," he said, his voice just above a whisper."I warned you to stay there. I didn't want youto get involved." "I ... I tried to help," I stammered, stillstaring in shock at Marianna. Marianna theBeast. "Uncle Jekyll, I didn't know...." The words caught in my throat. Marianna raised her head. Tears rolleddown her swollen cheeks. "Daddy," shewhispered. "What am I going to do?" Uncle Jekyll patted her hair gently."I don't know, Marianna," he replied."I spend all my time trying to find a cure foryou. You know I'm here in the lab, working on itnight and day." A sob escaped Marianna's throat. "Ican't go on like this, Dad. Being a person in thedaytime ... and a creature at night." "I know, I know," Uncle Jekyll saidsoftly. "Some day soon, I will find the rightcure. If I just keep trying. I drink itmyself. I test each one on myself to see what itdoes. You know that I'll do anything to find the rightmixture to keep you from transforming." I swallowed hard. "Uncle Jekyll, howdid this happen?" I asked quietly. "Whydoes this happen to Marianna?" He uttered a sigh. "It happened fiveyears ago. Marianna was seven. We weretraveling in Europe. Our car broke down inthe middle of a forest." He sighed again. "I remember it soclearly," he said, still hugging Marianna. "Shegot bored while the car was being fixed. She wanderedinto the forest and got lost. When I finally found her..." He swallowed a sob. "When I finally foundMarianna, she told me about a forest creature.It attacked her. It bit her. I didn't knowwhether to believe her or not. She was always makingup stories." He gently patted Marianna's hair."One bite of the creature was all it took to ruinMarianna's life. A few weeks later,Marianna transformed for the first time. And now, mostnights, she transforms into a frightening, angrybeast. I ... I've been searching for a cure eversince. I think I'm close, but--" He stopped. Marianna raised her head, suddenly alert. All three of us heard the angry shouts. Thethud of boots on the hill. "No!" Uncle Jekyll let out a screamas a rock came crashing through the lab window. And then we heard the steady chant from thevillagers outside: "Kill the beast ... killthe beast ... kill the beast!"
"Kill the beast ... kill the beast ..." The sound of the ugly chant burst through the shatteredwindow. "Burn it down!" someone shouted. "Burn thehouse down!" We heard people battering the front door. And morewild, angry shouts: "Burn the house!" "First, kill the beast!" "Kill the evil!" Another rock sailed into the lab. It hit ashelf of beakers on the wall. Shattered glassflew across the room. Uncle Jekyll's eyes bulged wide infear. He still had his arms around Marianna. Butshe pulled away in panic, lurched toward thelab door, then turned back. "Dad--what dowe do?" Uncle Jekyll uttered a long, sad sigh.He stared at the broken window. "Kill the beast ... kill the beast ..." Theangry chants grew louder. The pounding on thefront door sounded like booms of thunder. "Are we trapped in here?" I cried, shoutingover the wild cries and chanting voices."They're out of control. They'll kill us all!" Uncle Jekyll grabbed my hand and pulledme toward Marianna at the door. "I plannedfor this," he said. "We can escape. But we haveto be fast." We ran into the hall. And heard a loudcracking sound. "The front door!" I gasped. "They'vebroken it down." "This way!" Uncle Jekyll cried. He led us along the back hall. We turneda corner into a narrow hallway I'd never seen. I heard angry cries. From inside thehouse! Heavy footsteps. I smelled smoke. "They're setting thehouse on fire!" I cried. Uncle Jekyll pulled open a narrowdoor. "In here," he instructed. He movedaside. Marianna and I stepped inside. Uncle Jekyll pulled the door closed behindus. A steep stairway led down to the basement.Our shoes thudded on the creaking stairs as wemade our way down. "They'll search for us. They'll find us downhere," Marianna whispered to her father. "If theyburn the house, we'll be trapped." Uncle Jekyll raised a finger to hislips. His eyes were narrowed in determination.Ducking his head under the low ceiling, he guided usthrough the cluttered basement. Past the enormous,chugging, vibrating furnace. Past a storagearea piled high with wooden cartons and old steamertrunks. He picked up a flashlight on a worktable andclicked it on. Then we followed the darting beamof light through two large, empty spaces, ourfootsteps echoing on the concrete floor. Andstopped at a tall wooden crate against the farwall. "Help me," Uncle Jekyll instructed.He leaned his shoulder against the crate and startedto push. Marianna and I moved to the other side andpulled. Above us, I heard heavy footsteps.Angry shouts. The villagers were searching thehouse. The crate slid an inch at a time. Finally,we moved it far enough to reveal a low opening in thebasement wall. "It's a tunnel," Uncle Jekyll said,wiping sweat from his forehead with his coat sleeve."An escape tunnel." I peered into the low, dark opening. "Where doesit lead?" "It goes down the hill. Past thevillage," Uncle Jekyll replied. "Itends less than a mile from the highway. We'llbe safe. And maybe we can get a ride to somewherefar away." A loud crash upstairs made me jump. Thesharp smell of smoke drifted down through thebasement ceiling. "Hurry," Uncle Jekyll urged. "Wewant to be out of the tunnel before they search thebasement." I ducked my head and stepped into the narrowopening. My eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness.Uncle Jekyll aimed the flashlight at ourfeet. The tunnel was concrete, low and round, cutinto the hill. I heard the scuttle of tiny feetup ahead. Field mice? Raccoons? Rats? No time to worry about them. Hunching low, we began making our way through thetunnel. It curved slowly and then beganto slope down. The circle of light from theflashlight danced on the floor ahead of us. No one spoke. The only sounds now were thescrape of our shoes on the tunnel floor andour rapid, shallow breathing. I kept listening for footsteps behind us. But thevillagers hadn't discovered the tunnel yet. After a minute or two, I stopped. "Whoa. Wait," I called. My voiceechoed off the low walls. "What's wrong?" Uncle Jekyll demanded."We have a long way to go, Heidi." "I know," I replied. "But I have to goback. I forgot something." "No--you can't!" Marianna cried out, hervoice trembling in fright. "They'll captureyou. They'll kill you!" "What did you forget?" Uncle Jekylldemanded. "It can't be important enough to--" "It's a diary," I told him. "A very olddiary." "No, Heidi--" my uncle started. But I didn't give him a chance to finish. Ispun away from them and took off, back toward thebasement. I knew that going back up to the house wascrazy. But the old diary was too valuableto leave behind. It was probably worth a fortune.And it was part of history. I couldn't let it burn with the rest of the house.I couldn't let such an important document belost forever. I had to rescue it. "Heidi--come back!" UncleJekyll's cry rang out through the tunnel, farbehind me now. I turned a corner, and the tunnel openingcame into view. I hunched under the low ceiling andstepped into the basement. Thick smoke choked my throat. I heardshouts upstairs. Running footsteps. I took a deep breath and held it. Then,pressing my hand over my nose and mouth, Imade my way to the basement stairs. Could I get up to my room? Could I rescue the old diary from its secrethiding place--and make my escape again? I had to try.
Clouds of thick, sour smoke billowed aroundme. Holding my breath, my eyes stinging, Iran to the stairs. I hesitated at the top of the stairs andlistened. were there villagers on the other side of the
door? My lungs were bursting. I couldn'tstay there. I had to breathe. I pushed open the basement door and steppedinto the back hallway. Letting my breath out in awhoosh, I peered up and down the hall. I heard angry shouts from the front of thehouse. The crackle of flames. I pressed myself against the wall as a group ofmen in the next hallway thundered by. Holding mybreath again, I waited until they ran out ofsight. Then, keeping close to the wall, Ibegan inching my way to the front stairway. As I passed the kitchen, I saw two men withaxes, furiously chopping away at the sink andcounter. "Destroy everything!" someone shouted. "This is what he did to our town!" someoneelse cried. "Where is he? Don't let him escape!" "Did anyone search the roof?" "Is there a basement?" The drapes in the den were on fire. Flamesleaped up from the couch. In the living room a group of boys about myage were smashing the front window. Tearing apart thefurniture. I backed into a closet as two men ran pastcarrying flaming torches. "Where is the beast?" "He didn't go far!" "He won't leave this house!" Their angry words stabbed at me like knives. You don't know the truth, I thought bitterly.You don't know that Marianna is the beast. That shecan't help herself. You don't know how hard myuncle is working to find a cure. To rid thevillage of the beast. But that didn't matter now. Uncle Jekylland Marianna would never be able to return to thevillage. Never be able to return to their house. The house will be destroyed before the villagersleave, I realized. An explosion of bright flames lit up thehall. I peered out from the closet. The coast wasclear. I lurched to the stairs, and leaning forward, Ibegan running up them at full speed. Please, please, let me get to mybedroom, I prayed. Let me find the hidden diary. Andlet me return to the tunnel, returnto Marianna and Uncle Jekyll. Then I never want to see this village again. I reached the top of the stairs, breathing hard.I could hear cries and shouts in Marianna'sroom at the end of the hall. A loud crash made me gasp. They weredestroying her room too. I darted into my room. The room looked asif a tornado had swept through. My dresserdrawers had been pulled out and tossed onto thefloor. My clothes had been strewn everywhere. The window curtains had been ripped off theirrod. The window smashed. Glass everywhere. I didn't care. I dove for the bookshelf. Pulled down theboard over the hidden compartment. Was the old diary still inside? Yes. I grabbed it with a trembling hand. My handshook so hard, I nearly dropped it. Glancing over my shoulder to the door, Itucked the diary into my coat pocket. I took one last glance at the room and then,with a shudder, made my way back to the hall. I stopped when I heard excited voices inthe next room. "Is there an attic? There has to be anattic." "If he's hiding up there, we'll find him." I turned and began running to the stairs. Icould feel the diary bouncing in my pocket. I stopped at the top of the stairs. Peereddown. No one there. I reached for the banister. And strong hands grabbed me from behind. I turned to see two men, eyes wild,hair matted wetly to their heads, sweat runningdown their faces. "I've got one!" one of them cried, grippingmy shoulder tightly. "Yes!" the other cheered. "We've got one!"He lowered his sweating face to me. "Lead us to thebeast!" he snarled. "Lead us to the beast now--oryour life is over!"
"No--" I screamed. I struggled to squirmout of their grasp. But they were too strong. "Tell us where the beast is!" one of themgrowled, squeezing my arm. "Tell us now, andwe'll let you go." "But--I don't know!" I cried. "I justmoved here. I ... I really don't know whatyou're talking about!" The two men narrowed their eyes at me, studyingme suspiciously. "She's lying," one of them snapped. "Tell us the truth," his partner demanded,spitting the words in my face. "Tell us thetruth or you'll never leave this house!" "Let her go!" a voice called. All three of us turned to see Aaron runningdown the hall. "Let her go!" he told them again. "Shedoesn't know anything. I met her at the busstation on Monday. She just arrived here." The two men ignored Aaron. One of them letgo of my arm. But he didn't back away. "Haveyou seen the beast? Where is he hiding?" he shouted. "Tell us!" his friend demanded again. Flames crackled behind them. Angry shoutsrang out through the house. "I--I don't know," I stammered. "Ireally don't know." Aaron grabbed my hand. "I'm taking her out ofhere. Can't you see she's telling the truth?" Hepulled me away. We started to run. Thick, sour smokeswirled through the hall. My eyes watering, Iglanced back. The two men hadn't moved. Theyweren't following us. "We've got to get out fast," Aaron cried."They're going to destroy the whole house. Theywon't stop until they capture your uncle." "This way." I tugged him through the back hall.Then down the basement stairs. Our shoes thudded over the concrete floor. Iled Aaron to the tunnel, and we burst inside it.Then, running hard, we followed it as it slopeddown the hill. I kept glancing back, praying that no one wasfollowing us. We seemed to run for miles. I was breathinghard, my side aching, when we finally climbed outthe other end. "Uncle Jekyll? Marianna?" I calledtheir names breathlessly. No sign of them. Did they escape to safety? Did they get away? Would I ever see them again? So many frantic questions ran through my mind. Pulling my wet hair off my forehead, Igazed around. The tunnel had led us past thevillage, to a row of low hills that faced thehighway. The village stood quiet and empty behind thelow hills. I turned, struggling to catch mybreath. In the distance, high above the village, I couldsee a wall of orange-and-yellow flames, sobright, so bright against the purple night sky. The flames appeared to reach up to the moon. Uncle Jekyll's house. Burning ...burning to the ground. The heat and smoke sweptdown the hill. Washed over Aaron and me. My eyes welled with tears. The heat andsmoke stung my face. But I didn't move. I stared up at thehouse, watching it burn, watching it vanish in theraging flames ... until Aaron gentlypulled me away.
Later, we sat in Aaron's kitchen. His mothergave us dinner. She said I could stay with themuntil we contacted my other relatives. Outside, we could hear the villagersreturning from the hill. I knew they had to beunhappy. They destroyed Uncle Jekyll'shouse, but they didn't capture the beast. I trembled, picturing the fire, the wall offlames reaching up to the sky. I wondered ifUncle Jekyll and Marianna were somewhere safe. Yes. They had to be. By now, they were far awayfrom here. The horror was over. ... "Hey!" I suddenly remembered the diary. "Aaron, I have to show you something," I said. Ihurried to the closet, pulled the diary from mycoat pocket, then returned to the kitchen. Aaron stared at the little book. "What's that?" "This is why I went back to the house," Itold him excitedly. "It's an old diary.I found it hidden in my bedroom. I think it'svery valuable. I think it's the diary of the originalDr. Jekyll." "Huh?" Aaron's mouth droppedopen. "Let me see that." He took the diary from my hand and examined theworn, faded cover. Then he started to skim throughit, squinting at the tiny handwriting. "Whoa. Heidi?" He raised his eyesto me. "It's not an old diary. Check this out." He handed it up to me, open to one of the firstpages. I read it out loud: "This diary is the property of MariannaJekyll." I let out a gasp. "I didn't see thispage," I told Aaron. "So it'sMarianna's diary! Wow! She used a faded,old diary. But the entries were new." When did she stop writing in it? I wondered.I flipped through the pages until I found thelast entry in the book. Then I brought the diary close to my face andstarted to read. As I read Marianna's words, I froze,gripped in horror, gripped in the fear that myhorror was only beginning:
... I hid the diary in my cousin Heidi'sroom. I never want anyone to find it. I neverwant anyone to know my shame, to know what I havedone. I was out of control ... that is my onlyexcuse. Soon after Heidi arrived, I was acreature. I was not myself. I creptinto Heidi's room to write in my diary. Isaw her sleeping there. I had no control. Sheslept so soundly ... I leaned over her bed... I BIT her shoulder ... bit her ...bit her ...
Trembling, I raised my eyes to findAaron staring hard at me. "Heidi--what's wrong?" he asked. "Whydo you look so strange?"
About R.l. Stine
R.l. Stine is the most popular author inAmerica. He is the creator of theGoosebumps, Give YourselfGoosebumps, Fear Street, and Ghostsof Fear Street series, among other popularbooks. He has written over 250 scarynovels for kids. Bob lives in New YorkCity with his wife, Jane, teenage son,Matt, and dog, Nadine.
THE END
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
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