TITLE PAGE
MEET JONATHAN CHILLER …
PART ONE
1
2
3
4
5
PART TWO
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
EPILOGUE
TEASER
HORRORLAND TRADING CARD
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ALSO AVAILABLE
COPYRIGHT
He owns Chiller House, the HorrorLand gift shop. Sometimes he doesn’t let kids pay for their souvenirs. Chiller tells them, “You can pay me next time.”
What does he mean by next time? What is Chiller’s big plan?
Go ahead — the gates are opening. Enter HorrorLand. This time you might be permitted to leave … but for how long? Jonathan Chiller is waiting — to make sure you TAKE A LITTLE HORROR HOME WITH YOU!
Gabriella and I stopped in front of the carnival game booths. I read the big green-and-purple sign: THE PLAY PEN. IT’S NOT HOW MUCH YOU WIN OR LOSE BUT HOW MUCH YOU SCREAM YOUR HEAD OFF!
I rubbed my hands together. “These games look awesome,” I said. “Maybe we’ll win some cool prizes.”
Gabriella tossed back her wavy black hair. “When I was little, I won a goldfish at a carnival,” she said. “It was in a plastic bag filled with water. It was totally gross.”
I squinted at her. “Totally gross?”
She nodded. “When I carried it into the house, the bag broke open. The goldfish and all the water gushed out, and my dog swallowed the fish. I cried for hours.”
“You always were a big crybaby,” I said.
“Was not!” She gave me a hard push, and I stumbled into the PLAY PEN sign.
I rubbed my shoulder. “Pick on someone your own size,” I said.
She’s three inches shorter than me. But she’s tough and likes to punch and shove a lot.
We’ve been friends since first grade. But people think we’re brother and sister because we look so much alike. We both have slender, serious faces, black hair, and dark eyes.
My name is Marco Gonzalez, and she is Gabriella Grant. I guess we became friends because they made us sit alphabetically in first grade. We are both twelve. But everyone says I look older and more mature than she does. I’m not bragging. It’s just true.
My parents drove us to HorrorLand for a vacation. After the first day, they let us wander off on our own. It’s an okay place. Gabriella likes all the scary stuff. I’m into superheroes more than horror. Doctor Shark-Tooth, Coyote Boy-X, and The Ooze are my favorites.
Gabriella gave my arm a hard pull. “Let’s go on some rides, Marco.”
“No, I want to play carnival games,” I said. “I want to win a prize. I promised Zeke I’d bring him home something. Poor guy had such a bad cold, he had to stay home with Grandma.”
“Your little brother was way angry,” Gabriella said. “He really wanted to come with us.”
“Zeke is always angry,” I said. “Didn’t you notice? He gets angry if his toast is too crumbly. Angry is his thing. Mom and Dad think it’s adorable. He’s a total pain.”
Gabriella grinned. “Is that why you give him piggyback rides all the way to school?”
I rolled my eyes. “If I didn’t carry him, he’d make me late every morning.”
Her grin grew wider. “I know what you do, Marco. You put Zeke on your shoulders and pretend you’re a superhero, flying him to school.”
“That’s a total lie,” I said. I could feel my face grow hot. I knew I was blushing.
I turned away from her. A Horror waved to me from behind an ice cream cart. The Horrors are big, furry, green-and-purple characters. They are the guides and helpers who work at HorrorLand.
“Try our special flavor today?” the Horror called.
“What flavor?” I asked.
“Cookies ’n’ Cow Brains,” he replied. He held out an empty cone. “I’ve also got Chocolate Chip Toilet Bowl Cleaner.”
“Uh … no thanks,” I said.
It was a clear, cool night. A tiny sliver of a moon hung low in the sky. People crowded around the game booths. I heard a balloon pop. A few seconds later, a kid started to cry.
Down the long row of games, a raspy-voiced Horror was shouting, “Who’s a loser? Come on — try your luck. Who’s our next loser?”
I stepped up to the first game booth. SKULL TOSS.
A big Horror in purple overalls leaned on the counter. Behind him, I could see a mountain of grinning human skulls. He shoved three eyeballs across the counter toward me. Actually, they were Ping-Pong balls painted to look like eyeballs.
Gabriella stepped up to the counter. “What do you have to do?” she asked the Horror.
“Toss an eyeball into an empty eye socket,” he growled. “If the eyeball sticks, you win a fabulous prize you’ll never forget. Three eyeballs for a dollar.”
“A fabulous prize?” she asked.
“I’m lying about that part,” the Horror said. “Wanna play?” He tapped the eyeballs on the counter.
I pulled two dollars from my pocket and handed them over. “We’ll both play,” I said.
Gabriella’s first ball bounced off a skull’s forehead with a clonk. Her second toss hit an open nose hole and bounced away. Her third toss missed the skulls and hit the canvas at the back of the booth.
“You lose,” the Horror said.
I grabbed a Ping-Pong ball, pulled back my hand, and tossed. “Yes!” I cried. The ball slapped into an open eye socket and stuck!
And then I gasped as the skull opened its jaws and let out a shrill scream!
I froze. I stared in shock as the skulls all started to move. Their jaws made disgusting clicking sounds. Whoo! Whoooo! Their breath made a whistling sound as it escaped their mouths. The air suddenly smelled sour.
The Horror uttered a cry and staggered back. His eyes went wide with fear. “No! Oh, no!” he wailed. “No! Did you wake the DEAD?”
Gabriella and I didn’t have time to move. The Horror grabbed my wrist. “What did you do?” he demanded. “What did you do?”
And then he burst out laughing. The skulls all stopped clicking their jaws at once.
“It’s a joke,” the Horror said. He let go of my wrist.
“I knew that,” I said. But my heart was still pounding.
“Funny,” Gabriella said. “Does Marco win a prize?”
The Horror reached under the counter. He handed me a tiny gray piece of fur. It looked like a dead caterpillar. “Enjoy it!” he said.
I held it up to study it. “What is it?” I asked him.
“A deadly piranha fish,” he said. “Careful. It bites!”
“This guy is a riot,” Gabriella muttered under her breath. We turned and walked away. “You can’t give that to Zeke. It’s terrible.”
I tossed it into a big trash can. Some of the fur stuck to my fingers. I looked around. “What should we play next?”
Gabriella pointed to a crowded booth across the road. “How about Zombie Darts?”
We wandered closer. I could see blue-faced men and women staggering stiffly at the back of the booth. The zombies grunted and groaned as people tossed darts at them.
“That looks easy,” I said. “Maybe —”
Suddenly, a man stepped in front of us. I almo
st walked right into him! He was tall and wide and had a broad black mustache on his round face.
He wore a tall red cap with the words Play to Win. His shirt had tic-tac-toe games scrawled all over the front. He wore a checkerboard vest. His belt was made of playing cards.
He leaned close to us and whispered. “Want to play the good stuff?”
“Excuse me?” I said.
“Tired of the baby games?” he asked. His dark eyes flashed. The big mustache twitched. “Want to play some real games? Have a little excitement?”
“Do they have better prizes?” Gabriella asked him.
He nodded. “Good games. Good prizes,” he said. He seemed tense. He glanced all around as if he was being followed. I saw droplets of sweat on his forehead.
“Who are you?” I asked.
He adjusted his playing-card belt. “My name is Winner. Winner Taikall. I’m the Game Master. I’ll take you to the good games.”
I turned to Gabriella. “Should we check this out?” I whispered.
She shrugged.
“Everyone wins — nobody loses … much!” Winner exclaimed. “Remember, a winner never quits, and a quitter never survives!”
Survives?
“You’re joking, right?” Gabriella asked him.
“Of course I’m joking,” he replied. “Follow me.” His stomach bounced in front of him as he walked. He kept glancing behind him to make sure we were following.
He led us along the brick wall at the back of the carnival games. Then we followed him to a little black door cut into the wall. The doorway was low. We had to duck our heads as we stepped inside.
Our shoes scraped the dirt floor as we walked through a long, dimly lit tunnel. The air grew colder. The tunnel dipped downhill. Was he taking us underground?
“Where are we going?” I asked. My voice sounded hollow. It echoed off the tunnel walls.
“To my special game room,” Winner replied. “You can’t lose! After all, my name is Winner!”
The tunnel grew narrower. He had to turn sideways to squeeze through.
His mustache twitched as he grinned at us. “I like all kinds of games,” he said. “Even dangerous games. How about you?”
Dangerous games?
I grabbed Gabriella’s arm. “I don’t like this,” I whispered. “Are we making a big mistake?”
We followed the big man out of the tunnel. Bright yellow light poured over us.
I blinked, waiting for my eyes to adjust. We were standing in the middle of a big square room. The walls were covered with game boards. He led us up to a red curtain at the back.
“This is my private game room,” Winner said. “I promise you will have an exciting time. And yes, my prizes are better than the Play Pen prizes.”
His smile faded. “That’s because you have to earn them!”
I felt a chill run down my back. What exactly did he mean by that? Why were we the only ones in this game room?
I turned to Gabriella. I couldn’t tell if she was as worried as I was. She likes to play tough. She never lets anyone know if she’s scared or tense.
“What game are we going to play?” she asked Winner.
“It’s a mystery tug-of-war,” he said. He parted the curtain and bent down, searching for something behind it.
“Why is it a mystery?” Gabriella demanded.
He chuckled. “It wouldn’t be a mystery if I told you — would it?”
He pulled out a fat rope from behind the red curtain. It was tightly coiled. He started to unroll it.
“This is going to be the most exciting tug-of-war game ever!” he declared. He stretched out one end of the rope. “Go ahead. Grab it.”
I pulled the rope toward me. Gabriella and I took hold of the end.
“I don’t have to explain the rules to you,” Winner said. He kept unrolling the rope. “Tug with all your might. Pull the rope to you — and you can’t lose!”
“Who are we playing against?” I asked.
Winner didn’t answer. He carried the other end of the rope with him and disappeared behind the closed curtain.
“This is weird,” Gabriella muttered.
“It’s HorrorLand,” I said. “It’s supposed to be weird. And a little scary.”
“We should have asked him what the prize is,” she said.
“Roll the dice!” Winner called from the other side of the curtain. “Spin the wheel! Push START. Game on! Game on! Get ready to play!”
Gabriella moved in front of me and wrapped the end of the rope around her wrist. I grabbed the rope with both hands and braced myself. I bent my knees and tightened my leg muscles, getting ready to tug.
“Okay … START!” Winner shouted.
I felt a strong pull on the rope. I gripped it tighter and pulled back.
“Hey!” Gabriella let out a shout as the rope slipped out of her grasp. She grabbed it again and leaned back against me as we both pulled.
We leaned way back and gave a hard pull. The rope moved toward us. Then it was jerked back hard.
I stared at the red curtain. Who was on the other side? Who were Gabriella and I playing against?
Someone very strong, I decided. We were being pulled forward. Inch by inch, we were being tugged closer to the curtain.
“Pull hard! Pull hard!” Gabriella shouted.
“What do you think I’m doing?” I cried.
I dug my shoes into the floor and leaned all the way back. And pulled. Pulled with all my strength.
“Ow!” The rope jerked hard and burned the skin on my palms.
Gabriella and I stumbled forward. Another hard tug, and we were almost to the curtain.
“We’re losing!” Gabriella cried. “Marco — pull harder!”
But then we both cried out as the curtain slid open. And we saw who we were playing against.
No one!
There was no one on the other end of the rope!
Another hard tug jerked us forward.
“Keep pulling! Don’t give up! Keep pulling!” Winner shouted from somewhere behind us.
“But there’s no one there!” I cried.
The other end of the rope floated in midair. The players on the other side were invisible!
But that was impossible. Wasn’t it?
We were being pulled through the open curtain. About to lose this crazy tug-of-war.
My hands burned. My arms ached. My heart throbbed in my chest.
“Don’t give up!” Winner shouted.
“Okay, okay. One last try,” I murmured to Gabriella. My voice came out in a breathless whisper. “On three, okay?”
I dug my heels into the floor. I gripped the rope tighter.
“One … two …”
I didn’t make it to three.
Because the rope wiggled in my hand. I felt it change. I felt it grow smooth against my burning skin. Smooth and dry.
The rope changed.
Warm and dry and soft.
I saw black eyes stare at me. A narrow jaw worked up and down.
A soft hissssss rang in my ears.
A snake! I was gripping a snake! My hands were wrapped around its head!
I was tugging on a six-foot-long snake, its jaws hissing and snapping.
“Nooooo!”
I uttered a scream of horror and pain as it sank its fangs deep into my wrist.
Gabriella and I staggered back. The big snake snapped out of our hands. It hit the floor and wriggled toward the curtain.
I grabbed my wrist and raised it to my face. “Ohhhh.” I saw two round, red fang marks in the skin.
I suddenly felt faint. Dizzy.
I spun around, searching for Winner. “What kind of game is this?” I cried. “The snake — it bit me! Is it poisonous? Is it?”
No sign of him.
I studied my wrist again. “Hey — wait!” The fang marks had vanished. Completely disappeared.
Was the snake some kind of fake? Was it all a trick?
“L-let’s get out of here,” I sta
mmered.
Gabriella and I turned. Winner stood behind us at the doorway. He had a pleased grin under his mustache. He strode quickly toward us.
I pointed back to the snake. “How did you do that?” I cried.
“Who was pulling the rope?” Gabriella asked.
“How did you change it into a snake?”
“Is it really alive?”
We bombarded him with questions.
Winner motioned with both hands for us to stop. “You just have to know how to play the game,” he said. “So sorry you didn’t win.”
“But — how could we win?” I cried. “Our opponents were invisible! And the rope turned into a huge snake!”
Winner’s eyes narrowed at me. “Are you saying it wasn’t a fair game?”
“I didn’t say that,” I replied. “It’s just that —”
“So … we don’t win anything?” Gabriella said.
“Every player is a winner!” he exclaimed. “Every winner is a player! Every loser is a winner! And every prize is a prize worth winning!”
“He’s crazy!” I whispered.
“So does that mean we do or we don’t win a prize?” Gabriella was not ready to give up.
Winner reached into a pocket of his checkerboard vest. “I have a consolation prize for you,” he said. He pulled out a small square of paper and handed it to me.
I unfolded it and read the black words against the green background. It said:
10% Discount Coupon
Any Item at CHILLER HOUSE
“Game over,” Winner said. He made a shooing motion toward the tunnel opening. “Three strikes and you’re out.” He stepped in front of me and brought his face close to mine. “Unless you’d like sudden-death overtime?”
I backed away. “Sudden death? Uh … no thanks. Guess Gabriella and I will go now.”
We started into the tunnel. I glanced back and saw Winner lift the big snake from the floor. He began to coil it around his hand.
Was it a rope again? Was the whole thing some kind of magic trick?
Gabriella tugged my hand. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
We made our way through the twisting, cold tunnel. It was a steep climb going this direction. We were out of breath by the time we stepped through the little black door and back into the park.
We walked along the brick wall. The Play Pen game booths were as crowded as ever.