The ghouls stepped closer.
And I felt something heavy pushing down on my head.
Jason!
Pushing down, down on me.
“Jason — please!” I gasped.
But he pressed down heavily.
I tried to fight back. Concentrated … concentrated …
But my right arm started to pump up and down. Jason had taken over one arm.
And then my left leg started to bend. It kicked hard.
“Jason — stop!” I begged.
He had taken over half the body.
I swung my arm. Bobbed the head up and down. Bent and twisted, trying to toss him out. Trying to take back control.
“Jason …”
I could feel myself growing weaker. Feel him moving in, taking command.
I glanced up to see the ghouls stop and stare. Their black eyes bulged wide, watching Jason and me struggle.
I swung one arm. I dragged a leg. I tried to move away.
Jason fought back, moving his leg.
As we struggled, the body did a strange dance.
Neighbors stared. My family watched in shock and horror from the front steps.
I hip-hopped over the grass, swinging one arm.
Jason made the body hop back. Then skip.
A wild dance. A frantic dance.
And suddenly, I heard a groan of pain.
I looked up to see the ghouls shut their eyes. They both opened their mouths in long, low groans.
They clutched their stomachs.
What is happening? I wondered.
Jason and I continued our wild dance, struggling for control of the body. Flapping our arms, bending our knees, hopping and skipping in a desperate rhythm.
And to my shock, both ghouls dropped weakly to their knees on the grass.
The axes fell from their hands. They rolled their eyes and uttered faint moans.
I kicked and tossed an arm.
The two ghouls groaned again.
It’s the dance, I realized. The crazy dance.
The dance is making them weak.
And then the strange words on the gravestone returned to me. The words I hadn’t understood.
DEFEAT DEATH ONLY BY LIVING.
What is a better sign of being alive than dancing? I asked myself.
Yes. Dancing. When people dance, it means they’re really alive!
I did it! I figured out how to defeat Oswald Manse!
I had always hated dancing. I never danced.
But now I knew I had to dance and dance — and never stop!
“I’m going to get my body back!” I shouted at the ghoul.
“It’s my body now!” the ghoul moaned. “No one beats Oswald Manse! No one!”
I kicked my legs. And waved my hands. I snapped my fingers and moved my body in a wild, frantic rhythm.
“Stop!” the ghoul clutched his chest in agony. “It’s my body now….”
I grabbed the black Lab by the front paws. Pulled her up on her hind legs. And danced with her.
Danced … danced …
Until, moaning and crying, the two ghouls shut their eyes and collapsed to the grass.
Yes!
We defeated them!
“We did it, Audra!” I cried, letting go of her paws. “We did it!”
I wanted to shout and laugh and sing. I wanted to dance until I couldn’t dance anymore.
But then I turned to my body and Audra’s body — and my heart sank.
They lay facedown, arms and legs sprawled over the grass.
Lifeless.
So totally lifeless.
Too late, I thought.
Too late to slip back in.
Audra and I are doomed.
No bodies. We’ll be shadows, too.
Nothing but shadows … forever.
Staring at my lifeless body on the grass, I floated out of Jason’s body.
He instantly took charge. I watched him test his hands, bend his knees, open and close his mouth.
“I’m me!” he declared happily.
But would I ever be me again?
“Come on, Audra,” I urged the dog. “Hurry. Maybe we’re not too late. Maybe we can be ourselves again. Maybe we can do it.”
The dog trotted beside me.
I floated up over my body.
Please … please! I prayed. Let me back in.
I concentrated. Concentrated …
Felt myself slipping down, down …
Down into a deep darkness.
I opened my eyes.
I saw the clouds roll away. Bright sunlight beamed down on us, spreading over the lawn.
“We made it, Audra! We made it back just in time!” I shouted.
I felt so happy, I jumped up and down. I spun in a circle — and let my skirt twirl around me.
Huh?
I glanced down — at my purple skirt, my purple tights, my silky black blouse, my bright blue nail polish!
I touched my head and ran my hands through my long, silky black hair.
“Whoooa!” I turned to Audra — but Audra wasn’t there beside me.
I was staring at myself!
“Uh … Audra,” I said, tossing back my black hair. “I think we made a little mistake. What do we do now?”
You can’t believe you wasted your allowance on Vampire in a Can. It’s the dumbest Halloween costume ever made. But wait. Don’t throw away the can! There’s something else in there. A packet — labeled DANGER….
Do you dare open the packet — or not? Either way, you’re in grave trouble. What do you do when you start turning into a vampire? Is there a cure for being undead? What happens when your best friend starts looking like your next meal? How does a vampire deal with braces? And how do you protect yourself from a vampire dog?
This scary adventure is all about you. You decide what will happen. And you decide how terrifying the scares will be!
Start on Page 1. Then follow the instructions at the bottom of each page. You make the choices. If you choose well, you’ll survive this adventure. But if you make the wrong choice … BEWARE!
SO TAKE A DEEP BREATH. CROSS YOUR FINGERS. AND TURN TO PAGE 1 TO GIVE YOURSELF GOOSEBUMPS!
“I look like a nerd, don’t I? Like a complete nerd,” you moan to your friend Gabe. In the mirror you see your costume and wince. “Halloween is only a few days away. I’m doomed!”
You and Gabe have been best friends for two years. Gabe has long brown hair, wire-rimmed glasses — and a way of giving advice that sometimes bugs you.
“You do look pretty stupid,” Gabe admits. “Where did you get that costume, anyway?”
“It’s called Vampire in a Can,” you explain, holding up the cardboard can. “I bought it from Mr. Reuterly at Scary Stuff.”
“I don’t believe it!” Gabe slaps his forehead. “You bought a costume from the Eyeball Man? What if he took out his glass eye — right there in the store — and showed it to you?”
“He never takes out his glass eye,” you answer.
“Okay, okay,” Gabe says. “But your costume is still ridiculous. It’s just a set of plastic fangs, a cheap little black cape, and a fake tattoo of fang marks for your neck. Isn’t there anything else in the can?”
You pick it up and peer inside. “Hey, look!” you cry.
Go on to PAGE 2.
“What?” Gabe asks, looking interested.
“There is something else in the can,” you answer. You reach in and pull out a small plastic packet that was stuck to the inside. It looks like a ketchup packet.
“What is it?” Gabe moves closer.
“I think it’s fake blood,” you tell him.
“Really? Cool,” Gabe says. He picks up the Vampire in a Can box and reads the label. “That’s weird. It doesn’t say anything on the box about fake blood.”
Then you notice the writing on the packet.
In bloodred letters, it says, DANGER — KEEP AWAY.
You hand the packet to Gabe. He reads the label and his eyes grow
wide. “Are you going to open it?” he asks.
You gulp. The words on the packet are kind of scary.
But you’re dying to know what’s inside.
So? Are you going to open it?
If you open the packet, turn to PAGE 34.
If you don’t open it, turn to PAGE 67.
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 © 1998 by Scholastic Inc.
Originally published as Goosebumps Series 2000 #11: Attack of the Graveyard Ghouls
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.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
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 978-0-545-82063-9
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
R. L. Stine, Attack of the Graveyard Ghouls
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