“Okay,” you whisper to the old woman. “Let’s go.”
The old vampire hobbles out of the cell and turns right. She leads you to a different part of the basement.
“In here,” she orders, pointing to another small, dark cell. “Chained to a table is an ancient book. It speaks of a cure for vampirism. My great-great-grandfather always swore it was foolproof.”
“Why haven’t you used it?” Gabe asks suspiciously.
The old woman smiles patiently. “Because then I would be human,” she replies. “I would no longer have eternal life. I am old. So I would die.”
Suddenly, you hear laughter. And footsteps.
“Hurry,” the old woman pleads. “I have left one match on the table for you. Light it and read quickly. I marked the page with a ribbon. Good luck.”
Then she closes the door behind her — leaving you in the dark!
Turn to PAGE 32.
“No,” you tell Gabe, pulling away. “I’m going to follow the bats.”
You close your eyes and fold your arms across your chest.
Gabe cries, “What are you doing?”
You don’t answer. You just concentrate hard on the bats … and on the tingling inside you.
Suddenly, your whole body feels as if it’s being crushed.
Crunched.
The whole world goes dark. You open your eyes, but nothing changes.
“I can’t see!” you try to scream.
But all that comes out is a high-pitched screeching sound.
Then you open your wings and lift off the ground. You’re flying!
You soar in a spiral. Up — up — up!
Soar to PAGE 134.
You decide to go for it and bite your dad. Hey, he’s your own father. He’ll understand, right?
He’s tall. So you can’t reach his neck, unless he bends down.
“Dad,” you say, in your nicest voice “can I tell you a secret?”
“Sure,” he agrees.
“I have to whisper it,” you tell him. “Bend down.”
Your dad shrugs and puts his head next to yours.
“Okay. What is it?” he asks patiently.
“This!” you cry.
You sink your metal-covered teeth into his neck and begin the suction action.
Turn to PAGE 97.
“Surprise!” a bunch of voices all say at once.
The living room is filled with your friends.
And Gabe is standing right in the middle!
“Happy Birthday!” everyone shouts.
“But — but — it’s not my birthday until next week,” you sputter, feeling totally confused.
“I know,” your mom says, appearing in the kitchen doorway. “But Dad and I thought it would be more fun to give you a surprise party. Before Halloween.”
“But what about the vampires?” you whisper to Gabe. “What about my fangs and the warehouse and everything?”
Gabe laughs. “That stuff you drank from the packet?” he says. “That was Mr. Reuterly’s idea. It’s just sugar syrup, cherry juice, and a lot of salt. He said it would make you thirsty. And then the sugar syrup coats your teeth, and makes them look longer. But the rest — that was all in your head. You just imagined that you wanted to drink blood!”
“But what about the mirror?” you cry. You race to the hall mirror and look in.
Your reflection is still missing!
Turn to PAGE 113.
TEST FOR GOOD SENSE
1. You’ve withdrawn $1,000 from the bank. You don’t have any pockets, so you want someone to hold it for you. Whom should you trust? Pick one.
a) your grandmother
b) a kangaroo
c) a guy with a shaved head and a tattoo that reads, EX-CONS R BETTER!
2. You forget your lunch for school, and a bunch of people offer you food. Whom should you trust? Pick one.
a) your best friend, who gives you half his sandwich
b) a kangaroo
c) a kid two years older than you, who says, “Take my lemonade,” then turns his back, makes a horrible hacking sound, and hands you a weird-looking drink with gunk floating in it
For the answers and your score, turn to PAGE 127.
“Wow! That’s probably when Reuterly became a vampire himself!” Gabe declares.
You decide to tell your mom the truth — about the Vampire in a Can, and Mr. Reuterly, and the warehouse full of vampires, and everything.
“Yeah, and I’m the Easter Bunny,” your mom says when you finish. She rolls her eyes. “Halloween is coming up — not April Fools’ Day!”
You plead with her: “You’ve got to believe me, Mom. Really! Check out my fangs.”
You open your mouth wide. Your mom peers in.
She gasps.
Turn to PAGE 64.
As you circle around, high above Gabe’s head, reality hits you.
You turned yourself into a bat!
I’m blind as a bat, too, you think as you soar toward the factory window. That’s where the other bats went in.
You can’t see the window very well. You’re not completely blind, but your eyesight is poor.
Your radar, though, tells you where the opening is.
Inside, you follow your sense of smell. It leads you to a room full of screeching bats.
They all flap their wings and circle each other. Then, one by one, they transform themselves into human form. Into vampires.
All except you.
Cold fear seeps into your little bat body as you realize:
You don’t know how to change back!
Turn back to PAGE 8.
“WOOF!”
It’s the familiar bark of your beloved poodle. “Fifi!” you call.
“WOOF!” Fifi races down the hall and starts licking your face.
“Help me, Fifi!” you cry.
As if she understands, Fifi starts barking at all the vampire pets. She snarls at them, growls and snaps. Even though she’s a vampire, she’s protecting you!
“Good dog,” you coo.
But it’s no use. The other animals aren’t afraid of her any longer. Not since they became vampires.
In the next few moments, the bloodthirsty animals drain every drop of blood from your body.
“Oh, Fifi,” you moan. “How did this happen? What went wrong?”
“Don’t ask her,” the parrot screeches at you. “Ask me. I’m the one who can talk.”
You stare at the parrot, too surprised to speak. You’re also too lifeless to listen. Which is why you’ll never find out the whole story in
THE END.
You make a break for the garage.
“YIP! YIP!”
The dogs give chase. You yank open the side door and slip inside. You pull it shut. Just in time!
The frustrated dogs yap from the other side of the door. Then you see something yellow and hairy thudding against the garage door window. Buttermilk!
What if he breaks the glass? What if he gets in?
Then you’re dead meat.
“WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!”
You peek out the garage door window. Two more vampire dogs have joined the group. One is a Doberman. The other is a pit bull!
Where’s Gabe? you wonder. Then you remember. He’s waiting at your house for a phone call.
A phone call! That gives you an idea.
You rush over to the car parked in the garage and peek in the window.
Turn to PAGE 46.
Ooops! You didn’t hurry fast enough.
“YIP! YIP! WOOF!”
As they bite into your neck, you think sadly, My life has really gone to the dogs.
THE END
“This is creepy, Erin.” My friend Marty grabbed my sleeve.
“Let go!” I whispered. “You’re hurting me!”
Marty didn’t seem to hear. He stared straight ahead into the darkness, gripping my arm.
“Marty, please,” I whispered. I shook my arm free. I was scared, too. But I didn’t want to a
dmit it.
It was darker than the darkest night. I squinted hard, trying to see. And then a gray light glowed dimly in front of us.
Marty ducked low. Even in the foggy light, I could see the fear in his eyes.
He grabbed my arm again. His mouth dropped open. I could hear him breathing hard and fast.
Even though I was frightened, a smile crossed my face. I liked seeing Marty scared.
I really enjoyed it.
I know, I know. That’s terrible. I admit it. Erin Wright is a bad person. What kind of a friend am I?
But Marty always brags that he is braver than me. And he is usually right. He usually is the brave one, and I’m the wimp.
But not today.
That’s why seeing Marty gasp in fright and grab my arm made me smile.
The gray light ahead of us slowly grew brighter. I heard crunching sounds on both sides of us. Close behind me, someone coughed. But Marty and I didn’t turn around. We kept our eyes straight ahead.
Waiting. Watching….
As I squinted into the gray light, a fence came into view. A long wooden fence, its paint faded and peeling. A hand-lettered sign appeared on the fence: DANGER. KEEP OUT. THIS MEANS YOU.
Marty and I both gasped when we heard the scraping sounds. Soft at first. Then louder. Like giant claws scraping against the other side of the fence.
I tried to swallow, but my mouth suddenly felt dry. I had the urge to run. Just turn and run as fast as I could.
But I couldn’t leave Marty there all alone. And besides, if I ran away now, he would never let me forget it. He’d tease me about it forever.
So I stayed beside him, listening as the scraping, clawing sounds turned into banging. Loud crashes.
Was someone trying to break through the fence?
We moved quickly along the fence. Faster, faster — until the tall, peeling fence pickets became a gray blur.
But the sound followed us. Heavy footsteps on the other side of the fence.
We stared straight ahead. We were on an empty street. A familiar street.
Yes, we had been here before.
The pavement was puddled with rainwater. The puddles glowed in the pale light from the streetlamps.
I took a deep breath. Marty gripped my arm harder. Our mouths gaped open.
To our horror, the fence began to shake. The whole street shook. The rain puddles splashed against the curb.
The footsteps thundered closer.
“Marty!” I gasped in a choked whisper.
Before I could say another word, the fence crumbled to the ground, and the monster came bursting out.
It had a head like a wolf — snapping jaws of gleaming white teeth — and a body like a giant crab. It swung four huge claws in front of it, clicking them at us as its snout pulled open in a throaty growl.
“NOOOOOOO!” Marty and I both let out howls of terror.
We jumped to our feet.
But there was nowhere to run.
R.L. Stine’s books are read all over the world. So far, his books have sold more than 300 million copies, making him one of the most popular children’s authors in history. Besides Goosebumps, R.L. Stine has written the teen series Fear Street and the funny series Rotten School, as well as the Mostly Ghostly series, The Nightmare Room series, and the two-book thriller Dangerous Girls. R.L. Stine lives in New York with his wife, Jane, and Minnie, his King Charles spaniel. You can learn more about him at www.RLStine.com.
Goosebumps book series created by Parachute Press, Inc.
Copyright © 1997 by Scholastic Inc.
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, GOOSEBUMPS, GOOSEBUMPS HORRORLAND, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This edition first printing, May 2015
e-ISBN 978-0-545-82065-3
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R. L. Stine, Please Don't Feed the Vampire!
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