Goosebumps 2 Stay Out of the Basement
Chapter 1
“Hey, Dad—catch!”
Casey tossed the Frisbee across the smooth, green lawn. Casey’s dad made a face,
squinting into the sun. The Frisbee hit the ground and skipped a few times before
landing under the hedge at the back of the house.
“Not today. I’m busy,” Dr. Brewer said, and abruptly turned and loped into the
house. The screen door slammed behind him.
Casey brushed his straight blond hair back off his forehead. “What’s his
problem?” he called to Margaret, his sister, who had watched the whole scene from
the side of the redwood garage.
“You know,” Margaret said quietly. She wiped her hands on the legs of her jeans
and held them both up, inviting a toss. “I’ll play Frisbee with you for a little while,”
she said.
“Okay,” Casey said without enthusiasm. He walked slowly over to retrieve the
Frisbee from under the hedge.
Margaret moved closer. She felt sorry for Casey. He and their dad were really
close, always playing ball or Frisbee or Nintendo together. But Dr. Brewer didn’t
seem to have time for that anymore.
Jumping up to catch the Frisbee, Margaret realized she felt sorry for herself, too.
Dad hadn’t been the same to her, either. In fact, he spent so much time down in the
basement, he barely said a word to her.
He doesn’t even call me Princess anymore, Margaret thought. It was a nickname
she hated. But at least it was a nickname, a sign of closeness.
She tossed the red Frisbee back. A bad toss. Casey chased after it, but it sailed
away from him. Margaret looked up to the golden hills beyond their backyard.
California, she thought.
It’s so weird out here. Here it is, the middle of winter, and there isn’t a cloud in
the sky, and Casey and I are out in jeans and T-shirts as if it were the middle of
summer.
She made a diving catch for a wild toss, rolling over on the manicured lawn and
Casey tossed the Frisbee across the smooth, green lawn. Casey’s dad made a face,
squinting into the sun. The Frisbee hit the ground and skipped a few times before
landing under the hedge at the back of the house.
“Not today. I’m busy,” Dr. Brewer said, and abruptly turned and loped into the
house. The screen door slammed behind him.
Casey brushed his straight blond hair back off his forehead. “What’s his
problem?” he called to Margaret, his sister, who had watched the whole scene from
the side of the redwood garage.
“You know,” Margaret said quietly. She wiped her hands on the legs of her jeans
and held them both up, inviting a toss. “I’ll play Frisbee with you for a little while,”
she said.
“Okay,” Casey said without enthusiasm. He walked slowly over to retrieve the
Frisbee from under the hedge.
Margaret moved closer. She felt sorry for Casey. He and their dad were really
close, always playing ball or Frisbee or Nintendo together. But Dr. Brewer didn’t
seem to have time for that anymore.
Jumping up to catch the Frisbee, Margaret realized she felt sorry for herself, too.
Dad hadn’t been the same to her, either. In fact, he spent so much time down in the
basement, he barely said a word to her.
He doesn’t even call me Princess anymore, Margaret thought. It was a nickname
she hated. But at least it was a nickname, a sign of closeness.
She tossed the red Frisbee back. A bad toss. Casey chased after it, but it sailed
away from him. Margaret looked up to the golden hills beyond their backyard.
California, she thought.
It’s so weird out here. Here it is, the middle of winter, and there isn’t a cloud in
the sky, and Casey and I are out in jeans and T-shirts as if it were the middle of
summer.
She made a diving catch for a wild toss, rolling over on the manicured lawn and
raising the Frisbee above her head triumphantly.
“Show off,” Casey muttered, unimpressed.
“You’re the hot dog in the family,” Margaret called.
“Well, you’re a dork.”
“Hey, Casey—you want me to play with you or not?”
He shrugged.
Everyone was so edgy these days, Margaret realized.
It was easy to figure out why.
“Show off,” Casey muttered, unimpressed.
“You’re the hot dog in the family,” Margaret called.
“Well, you’re a dork.”
“Hey, Casey—you want me to play with you or not?”
He shrugged.
Everyone was so edgy these days, Margaret realized.
It was easy to figure out why.
Narnia The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe
CHAPTER ONE
LUCY LOOKS INTO A WARDROBE
ONCE there were four children whose names were Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy. This
story is about something that happened to them when they were sent away from London during the
war because of the air-raids. They were sent to the house of an old Professor who lived in the heart of
the country, ten miles from the nearest railway station and two miles from the nearest post office. He
had no wife and he lived in a very large house with a housekeeper called Mrs. Macready and three
servants. (Their names were Ivy, Margaret and Betty, but they do not come into the story much.) He
himself was a very old man with shaggy white hair which grew over most of his face as well as on his
head, and they liked him almost at once; but on the first evening when he came out to meet them at
the front door he was so odd-looking that Lucy (who was the youngest) was a little afraid of him, and
Edmund (who was the next youngest) wanted to laugh and had to keep on pretending he was blowing
his nose to hide it. As soon as they had said good night to the Professor and gone upstairs on the first
night, the boys came into the girls' room and they all talked it over.
"We've fallen on our feet and no mistake," said Peter. "This is going to be perfectly splendid.
That old chap will let us do anything we like." "I think he's an old dear," said Susan. "Oh, come off
it!" said Edmund, who was tired and pretending not to be tired, which always made him bad-
tempered. "Don't go on talking like that." "Like what?" said Susan; "and anyway, it's time you were in
bed." "Trying to talk like Mother," said Edmund. "And who are you to say when I'm to go to bed? Go
to bed yourself."
"Hadn't we all better go to bed?" said Lucy. "There's sure to be a row if we're heard talking
here." "No there won't," said Peter. "I tell you this is the sort of house where no one's going to mind
what we do. Anyway, they won't hear us. It's about ten minutes' walk from here down to that dining-
room, and any amount of stairs and passages in between." "What's that noise?" said Lucy suddenly. It
story is about something that happened to them when they were sent away from London during the
war because of the air-raids. They were sent to the house of an old Professor who lived in the heart of
the country, ten miles from the nearest railway station and two miles from the nearest post office. He
had no wife and he lived in a very large house with a housekeeper called Mrs. Macready and three
servants. (Their names were Ivy, Margaret and Betty, but they do not come into the story much.) He
himself was a very old man with shaggy white hair which grew over most of his face as well as on his
head, and they liked him almost at once; but on the first evening when he came out to meet them at
the front door he was so odd-looking that Lucy (who was the youngest) was a little afraid of him, and
Edmund (who was the next youngest) wanted to laugh and had to keep on pretending he was blowing
his nose to hide it. As soon as they had said good night to the Professor and gone upstairs on the first
night, the boys came into the girls' room and they all talked it over.
"We've fallen on our feet and no mistake," said Peter. "This is going to be perfectly splendid.
That old chap will let us do anything we like." "I think he's an old dear," said Susan. "Oh, come off
it!" said Edmund, who was tired and pretending not to be tired, which always made him bad-
tempered. "Don't go on talking like that." "Like what?" said Susan; "and anyway, it's time you were in
bed." "Trying to talk like Mother," said Edmund. "And who are you to say when I'm to go to bed? Go
to bed yourself."
"Hadn't we all better go to bed?" said Lucy. "There's sure to be a row if we're heard talking
here." "No there won't," said Peter. "I tell you this is the sort of house where no one's going to mind
what we do. Anyway, they won't hear us. It's about ten minutes' walk from here down to that dining-
room, and any amount of stairs and passages in between." "What's that noise?" said Lucy suddenly. It
was a far larger house than she had ever been in before and the thought of all those long passages and
rows of doors leading into empty rooms was beginning to make her feel a little creepy.
"It's only a bird, silly," said Edmund. "It's an owl," said Peter. "This is going to be a
wonderful place for birds. I shall go to bed now. I say, let's go and explore tomorrow. You might find
anything in a place like this. Did you see those mountains as we came along? And the woods? There
might be eagles.
There might be stags. There'll be hawks." "Badgers!" said Lucy. "Foxes!" said Edmund. "Rabbits!"
said Susan. But when next morning came there was a steady rain falling, so thick that when you
looked out of the window you could see neither the mountains nor the woods nor even the stream in
the garden.
"Of course it would be raining!" said Edmund. They had just finished their breakfast with the
Professor and were upstairs in the room he had set apart for them - a long, low room with two
windows looking out in one direction and two in another.
"Do stop grumbling, Ed," said Susan. "Ten to one it'll clear up in an hour or so. And in the
meantime we're pretty well off. There's a wireless and lots of books." "Not for me"said Peter; "I'm
going to explore in the house." Everyone agreed to this and that was how the adventures began. It
was the sort of house that you never seem to come to the end of, and it was full of unexpected places.
The first
few doors they tried led only into spare bedrooms, as everyone had expected that they would; but
soon they came to a very long room full of pictures and there they found a suit of armour; and after
that was a room all hung with green, with a harp in one corner; and then came three steps down and
five steps up, and then a kind of little upstairs hall and a door that led out on to a balcony, and then a
whole series of rooms that led into each other and were lined with books - most of them very old
books and some bigger than a Bible in a church. And shortly after that they looked into a room that
was quite empty except for one big wardrobe; the sort that has a looking-glass in the door. There was
nothing else in the room at all except a dead blue-bottle on the window-sill.
rows of doors leading into empty rooms was beginning to make her feel a little creepy.
"It's only a bird, silly," said Edmund. "It's an owl," said Peter. "This is going to be a
wonderful place for birds. I shall go to bed now. I say, let's go and explore tomorrow. You might find
anything in a place like this. Did you see those mountains as we came along? And the woods? There
might be eagles.
There might be stags. There'll be hawks." "Badgers!" said Lucy. "Foxes!" said Edmund. "Rabbits!"
said Susan. But when next morning came there was a steady rain falling, so thick that when you
looked out of the window you could see neither the mountains nor the woods nor even the stream in
the garden.
"Of course it would be raining!" said Edmund. They had just finished their breakfast with the
Professor and were upstairs in the room he had set apart for them - a long, low room with two
windows looking out in one direction and two in another.
"Do stop grumbling, Ed," said Susan. "Ten to one it'll clear up in an hour or so. And in the
meantime we're pretty well off. There's a wireless and lots of books." "Not for me"said Peter; "I'm
going to explore in the house." Everyone agreed to this and that was how the adventures began. It
was the sort of house that you never seem to come to the end of, and it was full of unexpected places.
The first
few doors they tried led only into spare bedrooms, as everyone had expected that they would; but
soon they came to a very long room full of pictures and there they found a suit of armour; and after
that was a room all hung with green, with a harp in one corner; and then came three steps down and
five steps up, and then a kind of little upstairs hall and a door that led out on to a balcony, and then a
whole series of rooms that led into each other and were lined with books - most of them very old
books and some bigger than a Bible in a church. And shortly after that they looked into a room that
was quite empty except for one big wardrobe; the sort that has a looking-glass in the door. There was
nothing else in the room at all except a dead blue-bottle on the window-sill.
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Goosebumps 1 Welcome To Dead House
Chapter 1
Josh and I hated our new house.
Sure, it was big. It looked like a mansion compared to our old house. It was a tall
redbrick house with a sloping black roof and rows of windows framed by black
shutters.
It’s so dark, I thought, studying it from the street. The whole house was covered
in darkness, as if it were hiding in the shadows of the gnarled, old trees that bent over
it.
It was the middle of July, but dead brown leaves blanketed the front yard. Our
sneakers crunched over them as we trudged up the gravel driveway.
Tall weeds poked up everywhere through the dead leaves. Thick clumps of weeds
had completely overgrown an old flower bed beside the front porch.
This house is creepy, I thought unhappily.
Josh must have been thinking the same thing. Looking up at the old house, we
both groaned loudly.
Mr. Dawes, the friendly young man from the local real estate office, stopped near
the front walk and turned around.
“Everything okay?” he asked, staring first at Josh, then at me, with his crinkly
blue eyes.
“Josh and Amanda aren’t happy about moving,” Dad explained, tucking his
shirttail in. Dad is a little overweight, and his shirts always seem to be coming
untucked.
“It’s hard for kids,” my mother added, smiling at Mr. Dawes, her hands shoved
into her jeans pockets as she continued up to the front door. “You know. Leaving all
of their friends behind. Moving to a strange new place.”
“Strange is right,” Josh said, shaking his head. “This house is gross.”
Mr. Dawes chuckled. “It’s an old house, that’s for sure,” he said, patting Josh on
the shoulder.
“It just needs some work, Josh,” Dad said, smiling at Mr. Dawes. “No one has
lived in it for a while, so it’ll take some fixing up.”
“Look how big it is,” Mom added, smoothing back her straight black hair and
smiling at Josh. “We’ll have room for a den and maybe a rec room, too. You’d like
that—wouldn’t you, Amanda?”
I shrugged. A cold breeze made me shiver. It was actually a beautiful, hot
summer day. But the closer we got to the house, the colder I felt.
I guessed it was because of all the tall, old trees.
I was wearing white tennis shorts and a sleeveless blue T-shirt. It had been hot in
the car. But now I was freezing. Maybe it’ll be warmer in the house, I thought.
“How old are they?” Mr. Dawes asked Mom, stepping onto the front porch.
Sure, it was big. It looked like a mansion compared to our old house. It was a tall
redbrick house with a sloping black roof and rows of windows framed by black
shutters.
It’s so dark, I thought, studying it from the street. The whole house was covered
in darkness, as if it were hiding in the shadows of the gnarled, old trees that bent over
it.
It was the middle of July, but dead brown leaves blanketed the front yard. Our
sneakers crunched over them as we trudged up the gravel driveway.
Tall weeds poked up everywhere through the dead leaves. Thick clumps of weeds
had completely overgrown an old flower bed beside the front porch.
This house is creepy, I thought unhappily.
Josh must have been thinking the same thing. Looking up at the old house, we
both groaned loudly.
Mr. Dawes, the friendly young man from the local real estate office, stopped near
the front walk and turned around.
“Everything okay?” he asked, staring first at Josh, then at me, with his crinkly
blue eyes.
“Josh and Amanda aren’t happy about moving,” Dad explained, tucking his
shirttail in. Dad is a little overweight, and his shirts always seem to be coming
untucked.
“It’s hard for kids,” my mother added, smiling at Mr. Dawes, her hands shoved
into her jeans pockets as she continued up to the front door. “You know. Leaving all
of their friends behind. Moving to a strange new place.”
“Strange is right,” Josh said, shaking his head. “This house is gross.”
Mr. Dawes chuckled. “It’s an old house, that’s for sure,” he said, patting Josh on
the shoulder.
“It just needs some work, Josh,” Dad said, smiling at Mr. Dawes. “No one has
lived in it for a while, so it’ll take some fixing up.”
“Look how big it is,” Mom added, smoothing back her straight black hair and
smiling at Josh. “We’ll have room for a den and maybe a rec room, too. You’d like
that—wouldn’t you, Amanda?”
I shrugged. A cold breeze made me shiver. It was actually a beautiful, hot
summer day. But the closer we got to the house, the colder I felt.
I guessed it was because of all the tall, old trees.
I was wearing white tennis shorts and a sleeveless blue T-shirt. It had been hot in
the car. But now I was freezing. Maybe it’ll be warmer in the house, I thought.
“How old are they?” Mr. Dawes asked Mom, stepping onto the front porch.
“Amanda is twelve,” Mom answered. “And Josh turned eleven last month.”
“They look so much alike,” Mr. Dawes told Mom.
I couldn’t decide if that was a compliment or not. I guess it’s true. Josh and I are
both tall and thin and have curly brown hair like Dad’s, and dark brown eyes.
Everyone says we have “serious” faces.
“I really want to go home,” Josh said, his voice cracking. “I hate this place.”
My brother is the most impatient kid in the world. And when he makes up his
mind about something, that’s it. He’s a little spoiled. At least, I think so. Whenever
he makes a big fuss about something, he usually gets his way.
We may look alike, but we’re really not that similar. I’m a lot more patient than
Josh is. A lot more sensible. Probably because I’m older and because I’m a girl.
Josh had hold of Dad’s hand and was trying to pull him back to the car. “Let’s go.
Come on, Dad. Let’s go.”
I knew this was one time Josh wouldn’t get his way. We were moving to this
house. No doubt about it. After all, the house was absolutely free. A great-uncle of
Dad’s, a man we didn’t even know, had died and left the house to Dad in his will.
I’ll never forget the look on Dad’s face when he got the letter from the lawyer.
He let out a loud whoop and began dancing around the living room. Josh and I
hought he’d flipped or something.
“My Great-Uncle Charles has left us a house in his will,” Dad explained, reading
and rereading the letter. “It’s in a town called Dark Falls.”
“They look so much alike,” Mr. Dawes told Mom.
I couldn’t decide if that was a compliment or not. I guess it’s true. Josh and I are
both tall and thin and have curly brown hair like Dad’s, and dark brown eyes.
Everyone says we have “serious” faces.
“I really want to go home,” Josh said, his voice cracking. “I hate this place.”
My brother is the most impatient kid in the world. And when he makes up his
mind about something, that’s it. He’s a little spoiled. At least, I think so. Whenever
he makes a big fuss about something, he usually gets his way.
We may look alike, but we’re really not that similar. I’m a lot more patient than
Josh is. A lot more sensible. Probably because I’m older and because I’m a girl.
Josh had hold of Dad’s hand and was trying to pull him back to the car. “Let’s go.
Come on, Dad. Let’s go.”
I knew this was one time Josh wouldn’t get his way. We were moving to this
house. No doubt about it. After all, the house was absolutely free. A great-uncle of
Dad’s, a man we didn’t even know, had died and left the house to Dad in his will.
I’ll never forget the look on Dad’s face when he got the letter from the lawyer.
He let out a loud whoop and began dancing around the living room. Josh and I
hought he’d flipped or something.
“My Great-Uncle Charles has left us a house in his will,” Dad explained, reading
and rereading the letter. “It’s in a town called Dark Falls.”
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