Nightmare in 3-D
It twisted and strained, like a prehistoric monster trapped in a tar pit. And all the time it watched me. Watched me with those terrifying bug eyes.
Do something. Do something! a voice cried out inside me. But my feet froze to the floor.
I heard Lauren yelling. But she sounded so far away. I was in some kind of trance. The blood pounded in my temples. My heart felt about to burst out of my chest.
DO SOMETHING! the voice screamed in my head.
I grabbed the poster.
My fingers fumbled as I began to roll it up.
I could feel the mantis pushing, pushing against my curled fingers.
I kept rolling up the poster. Faster. Faster.
And then I lost my grip—and the poster sprang open.
“Ahhh!” I yelled as two long back feelers lunged out and dug into my hands.
I dropped the poster.
The feelers waved wildly in the air as it fell. I slammed my foot down to smash them—and missed. The mantis buzzed furiously.
I stomped again. Harder.
One of its long, spindly legs rose out of the poster. And its razor-sharp pincer locked around my ankle.
“Ow!” I howled, shaking my leg wildly. “It’s got me! It’s got me!”
“What’s happening?” Lauren cried. “What’s got you?”
She couldn’t see it! The mantis had exploded right out of the poster. It was huge! And she still couldn’t see it.
It quivered and shook as it freed itself from the paper.
And it began to grow larger. Much larger than the size of the poster!
“Lauren,” I gasped. “It’s the mantis. It’s out of the poster! It’s attacking me! And it’s huge!”
The mantis reared up on its back legs. It shot out a pincer and gripped my wrist. And squeezed. Squeezed until my hand felt numb. Squeezed until my fingers turned purple.
I clawed at the pincer, trying to tear it off me.
The mantis’s legs lashed out. The sharp barbs tore at my shirt. Ripped right through it. My body stung and burned as its pincers pierced my skin.
It continued to grow. Up. Up.
Now it stood as tall as me!
Its enormous, ugly bug face stared into my eyes.
Then its feelers shot through my hair.
“Get it off me!” I screamed again and again.
My arms and legs flailed madly as I tried to struggle free. The mantis wrapped its strong, spindly arms around my neck.
Was it trying to choke me?
Where was Lauren? Why wasn’t she helping? “Laur—” Her name stuck in my throat as I gasped for air.
I jerked my head up to try to loosen the huge insect’s deadly grip.
“Lauren? Where are you?” I choked out.
“Lauren? Lauren?”
11
“Lauren?”
I saw her. Hurrying down the hall.
Leaving me to fight the giant mantis!
“Aaaagggghhh.” A gurgling sound escaped my throat as the mantis squeezed tighter. I couldn’t breathe. Bursts of color exploded before my eyes.
I flung my head back.
I stumbled through the hall with the mantis clutching my throat.
Then I whirled around and slammed the mantis into the row of lockers. I heard that high-pitched buzz again, and I felt the pincers loosen.
The insect opened its huge jaws. I could see deep into its mouth. I could smell its sour breath. It snapped its jaws shut inches from my face.
I shoved one arm between the creature and my chest and hurled it from my body. It crashed to the floor with a horrible screech.
Then I spotted Lauren. Leaning against the lockers with her arms folded.
“Very convincing, Wes.” She smiled. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were wrestling with a huge, invisible praying mantis.”
She reached out her hand and gave me a playful shove. “We’re going to be really late if—”
The mantis lashed out and locked a pincer around Lauren’s wrist.
“Owww! Wes!” she screamed. “Something’s got me! Get it off!”
I took a deep breath and gave a sort of karate chop to the mantis’s long front leg.
The mantis cried out and flew across the hallway.
“W-what happened?” Lauren stammered, rubbing the red, raw spot where the mantis had sunk its pincer.
“The mantis,” I whispered. I watched as its big head slowly turned and its enormous eyes scanned the empty hall. “It’s still here, but it’s not looking at us right now. Wait. I think it sees something down the hall.”
I squinted, but I couldn’t see very well—things were a total blur without my glasses.
“It’s Mr. Gosling!” Lauren cried. “Quick, Wes! Stop him and tell him about the mantis.”
Lauren couldn’t see the mantis. But at least she really truly believed me now.
Mr. Gosling ambled down the hall balancing a high pile of books under his chin.
He headed straight for us.
And the mantis.
“Look out!” I yelled.
Too late.
The mantis seized his ankle and sank its jaw into it.
Mr. Gosling let out a low moan. His long legs buckled underneath him. He tumbled face-first on the floor and slid down the hall on his stomach. Dragging the mantis behind him.
I snatched up one of the books he dropped— Fun with Insects. I stuck it in my back pocket. It might come in handy, I thought.
I grabbed another book and hurled it at the mantis.
Missed!
“Wes, what are you doing?” Lauren whispered.
“Trying to hit the mantis,” I said.
I heaved another book at it.
“Darn! Missed again.”
“Where is it, Wes?” Lauren asked. “What’s it doing?”
I squinted down the hall. Mr. Gosling climbed to his feet. “It had Mr. Gosling by the ankle,” I answered. “Now it’s lying right behind him.”
“I’d like an explanation,” Mr. Gosling bellowed as he strode toward us. His baggy gray cardigan flapped behind him. “Why are you throwing those books? And who tripped me?”
I knew this wasn’t the time to get Mr. Gosling’s theories about the poster. I had to talk fast. “Uh. No one tripped you. At least Lauren and I didn’t trip you. But I did throw your books. I’m sorry about that. But I had to—”
“Had to throw books?” Mr. Gosling questioned me, staring over his glasses. “We’ll deal with this later. Now, please help me pick them up.” He bent over and started gathering his books.
Lauren and I helped. I kept one eye on the mantis the whole time.
“Quick, Lauren,” I whispered. “It’s coming!”
“Run for it!” she screamed, dropping her pile of books and sprinting down the hall.
Mr. Gosling pushed himself to his feet and patted his tie down. “What is wrong with her? She threw my books on the floor. I really don’t understand this behavior. Maybe you’d both better come with me for a serious talk.”
“No, please, Mr. Gosling,” I begged. “There’s a logical explanation for all this. I’m sure there is. But I need you to help me figure it out.”
“Figure it out?” Mr. Gosling asked. “You want me to figure out why you are misbehaving?”
“Where is it? Is it gone?” Lauren yelled from halfway down the hall, her voice high and squeaky.
“No,” I called.
I studied the mantis, trying to decide what it would do next. It had stopped crawling. Now it seemed to be waiting. Almost motionless. Then, very slowly, it rubbed one of its pincers on the top of its head.
Then it took a step toward Mr. Gosling.
“It’s getting closer,” I warned.
“What’s getting closer?” Mr. Gosling demanded.
I swallowed hard.
“Tell him!” Lauren urged. “Tell him before it’s too late!”
“Too late for what?” he asked. “Class?” He sounded more confused than an
gry now.
“Um. Yes. Class,” I answered. “Let’s go.” I scooped up the books Lauren had dropped. I grabbed Mr. Gosling’s elbow and quickly steered him around the mantis and over to the stairs.
Lauren started to climb up first.
“Wait!” I yelled. “Where’s the poster? I have to have the poster!”
“There!” Lauren pointed. “Near the lockers.”
I ran down the hall and scooped it off the floor. As I rolled it up, I noticed a large blank space. The space where the mantis had been.
Lauren raced down the hall, tugging my arm. “Come on,” she urged, searching the hall for some sign of the creature. “Where is the thing?”
“It’s okay,” I answered. “It’s busy.”
Mr. Gosling stood by the staircase rearranging the books in his arms. The mantis crouched nearby. But it wasn’t paying any attention to him. It held its two front legs together in front of its huge eyes.
“Busy doing what?” Lauren asked. I could tell she was working to stay calm.
“It’s behind Mr. Gosling. Don’t worry, it doesn’t seem interested in him. It looks as if it’s praying or something,” I whispered.
Lauren wrenched my arm. “Doesn’t that mean it’s getting ready to attack?”
12
Yes!
Lauren was right!
Now I remembered. The mantis had raised its legs in a praying position right before it ate the moth!
“Let’s get out of here!” I shouted.
The mantis began rocking back and forth, with its front legs pressed together.
We raced over to Mr. Gosling. I grabbed for his sleeve, yanking him up the steps.
“Be careful, Wes,” he warned. “I’m going to drop these books again. It doesn’t matter if we’re a few minutes late.”
“Don’t want to be any later than we already are,” I replied.
“That’s right,” Lauren agreed.
I heard that terrible buzzing sound—like a million angry mosquitoes. Lauren didn’t seem to hear it at all. I glanced over my shoulder.
“It’s still behind us,” I whispered to Lauren as we reached the top of the stairs. “It’s crawling up. Following us!”
“Tell him!” she urged.
We had almost reached the science lab. I jumped in front of the door, blocking it. “Mr. Gosling, there’s something you have to know. It’s about the stereogram. The one the twins brought to class. There’s a mantis in it. A praying mantis. And it’s not just 3-D. It’s actually alive—”
Mr. Gosling pushed past me. “After class,” he answered. I could tell he was fed up.
Lauren and I hurried to our seats. She sits in the back of the class. I sit near the front, right next to the twins.
“Give me back my glasses,” I ordered them.
“What glasses?” Corny asked.
“Yeah, what glasses?” Gabby chimed in.
“My glasses, you—”
I heard a horrible scraping sound at the door. It opened a crack and two long black feelers poked inside. They waved back and forth—searching the air. Searching for something.
“Oh, no!” I moaned.
I turned to Lauren. “It’s here!” I mouthed.
“Is there something you would like to share with the rest of the class, Wes?” Mr. Gosling asked.
“Umm, I really need to talk to you about the 3-D poster.” I glanced at the door. It swung open wider. The mantis’s huge head appeared. Its jaws dripped saliva. “Someone might get hurt if—”
“I told you—we will talk about the poster after class,” Mr. Gosling said sternly. Then he began to make his way over to the door.
I wanted to cover my eyes with my hands. Or disappear under my desk. But I knew I had to warn Mr. Gosling. I jumped up from my seat—but I wasn’t fast enough.
Mr. Gosling reached the door and—shut it hard, smashing one of the mantis’s back legs.
Phew. That was a close one.
The mantis’s leg re-formed itself. The buzzing grew louder than ever. I could feel it vibrating through my body. My ears pounded. I covered them with my hands, trying to block out the hideous noise.
“But after class will be too late—” I tried to warn Mr. Gosling.
“After class!” Mr. Gosling exclaimed. “And please don’t cover your ears when I’m speaking to you.”
The twins started to snort.
I thought my eardrums were going to explode.
“Yes!” I shouted. “I hear you.”
“Why are you shouting? What’s wrong with you today, Wes?” Mr. Gosling asked. “Are you sick?”
“No,” I muttered. I wished I could tell him yes. Then he would send me down to the nurse. The nurse would call my mom. And my mom would come and take me home.
But it was too late for that.
I bought the poster.
I ignored Sal’s warnings.
And now I was the only one who could see the mantis. I was the only one who could hear the buzzing. So I had to stay. I had to stop the mantis. If I could.
“Let’s continue our study of the eye,” Mr. Gosling started.
The buzzing slowly faded, but the mantis remained perched by the door. Mr. Gosling began pacing back and forth in front of the classroom—the way he always does. His hands shoved deep into his pockets.
The mantis crept up behind him and followed him—back and forth across the room. Back and forth. It paused when Mr. Gosling paused. It turned when Mr. Gosling turned.
I wanted to scream.
At least it’s not praying, I thought. But the mantis definitely had its eye on Mr. Gosling.
Mr. Gosling turned to the chalkboard and drew a side view of the human eye. The mantis reached out to take a swipe at him.
It missed.
I let out a loud gasp.
Mr. Gosling glared at me. Then he turned back to his drawing.
The mantis tried again.
This time its pincer hit the chalkboard.
Screeeech.
Everybody cried out. A few kids held their hands over their ears. Mr. Gosling glared at me again. As if it were my fault!
At first I was surprised that everyone could hear the screech. Then I remembered that other people couldn’t see the mantis or hear it buzzing—but they could feel it grab them. So I guess it made sense that they could hear its pincer scraping the chalkboard.
Mr. Gosling slammed the chalk in the rack and marched over to a corner of the room—where his favorite specimen stood under a white sheet.
“Okay,” he announced, whipping the sheet off. A human skeleton hung from a stand. It was a little shorter than Mr. Gosling. “We’re going to examine the skull today.”
The mantis inched over to the skeleton. Its feelers were waving all over the place. It tilted its enormous head, staring hard at the bones. Saliva dripped from it jaws and puddled at its feet. It was hungry, I realized.
I was so nervous, I fumbled with my ruler and it crashed to the floor.
Mr. Gosling ignored me. He rolled the skeleton closer to the class. “Have a look at the bones around your eyes.”
“Ooh, gross!” Gabby cried.
Everybody laughed.
The mantis leaned forward and seemed to be sniffing the skeleton. I leaned forward, too. My stomach heaved.
The mantis caught the skeleton’s hand between its gaping jaws. It started chewing the finger bones.
The whole class gasped. “Cool trick!” someone yelled.
“I think it’s hungry,” I mouthed to Lauren.
Mr. Gosling stared at the arm. It looked as if it were waving to us.
“Who’s doing that?” Mr. Gosling demanded. “Wes?”
“No!” I protested. “But you have to listen to me. I think it’s really dangerous now. I think it’s hungry.”
“What’s hungry?” Gabby asked. “The skeleton?”
A few kids laughed.
“It sure looks thin,” Corny added.
More laughter.
 
; The mantis grabbed one of the skeleton’s legs and started gnawing on the knee.
“What’s it doing now?” Gabby called.
“I think it’s the cancan,” Corny cracked.
The class went completely out of control. They thought the whole thing was a big joke.
Mr. Gosling grabbed the stand and wheeled the skeleton away from the mantis. “This is not a toy,” he declared. “I want an apology from the person responsible.”
The room fell silent. Except for the sounds coming from the mantis—buzzing and snapping its pincers recklessly in the air. “Don’t move the skeleton!” I cried. “You’re making it angry!”
The class exploded into laughter.
Mr. Gosling strode over to my desk. He glared down at me. “If I hear one more outburst, you are out of here. Do you understand that?” he growled. “And I don’t mean detention. I mean suspension. From school!”
What could I say?
I felt so helpless. I needed to explain everything to Mr. Gosling. To get him on my side.
I placed my head in my hands. Think, Wes. Think.
Then I jerked my head up. Where was the mantis? I’d lost track of him.
Oh, no! I slid down in my seat.
The creature had discovered the corner in the back of the room where we kept the class animals.
I thought of the moth.
I remembered Fluffums and the clump of hair.
And I watched in horror as the creature reached its pincer out to the hamster cage.
13
I stared in horror as it pulled the bars of the hamster cage apart.
I closed my eyes for a moment. Trying to come up with a plan. But a terrifying picture crowded my mind. I saw the mantis shove the hamster into its waiting, dripping jaws—and swallowing it whole. I imagined it moving on to the guinea pigs, the white mice, and the baby frogs.
Here goes, I thought. I’ll probably be expelled from school—but I had to take action.
I climbed up on my lab stool. “Free the animals!” I shouted to Lauren. At least that way maybe they wouldn’t be sitting targets. Maybe they could run and hide.
Lauren jumped up and ran to the frog aquarium. She scooped up the frogs, two and three at a time, and plunked them on the floor.
They sat there frozen.
The mantis plodded toward them.