Creep Street Read Free

offer you a cup of coffee to make up for the mistake with the chocolate eclairs.
    Stacey leaves, but a minute later you hear a car engine start. And then she returns. She’s driving a long grey station wagon. It looks suspiciously like a hearse. She gets out and opens the back. It is a hearse. In the rear are two coffins. Stacey and her mother come and lift your mum and take her over and put her in one of them. Then they come back for you. You’re totally helpless as they lift you and carry you to the box. They lie you in it and close the lid! It’s horrifying. It’s completely black in there: the blackest place you’ve ever been. You can’t even scream. This is a nightmare. No, worse than a nightmare. Nightmares are only dreams. This is true.
    You get driven for hours. At first the road is smooth, but the further you go the rougher it gets. At last, though, the car stops. You hear footsteps, then the back of the car opening, then the lid of the coffin gets opened. You blink hard in the bright light. Then you realise that you can actually blink! Maybe you’re getting some movement back at last! Stacey’s mother is standing there. ‘Get out,’ she says. To your surprise you find you can move, even though you’re sore and stiff. Soon you’re standing behind the car, with your mother beside you. You think: ‘This is our chance! Maybe we should make a break for it.’

ou try to get the door shut but you’re a split second too late. The great monster rips the door off its hinges and, with a roar of rage, comes storming into the cellar after you. You rush around frantically from wall to wall trying to escape his hot breath. It’s like a pinball game where you’re the ball and you go bouncing off the obstacles. You don’t get points here though; the only prize is getting to stay alive.
    Then the end seems to have come. You’re trapped against the back wall and the bear-thing is coming straight at you. His mouth is open and he’s ready to bite. You feel his breath. It’s like a small cyclone. To make things worse he’s been eating a lot of garlic, mixed with cheese and sardines. This is one of the least favourite moments of your life. But suddenly your hand, groping behind you, feels something big and round. You grab it, pull it out and without even looking to see what it is, you throw it straight into his cavernous mouth. Turns out it’s a basketball. The creature hesitates. You watch with interest as he gulps it down in one huge swallow. Then he lets loose with a burp that scorches the wall black. While he’s doing that, you duck between his legs and race to the other side of the cellar. You grab an old gum boot and when he wheels around and comes at you again you heave that down his gullet as well. He swallows it with hardly a pause, and you follow it up with a cushion, a 1963 telephone directory, and a dartboard. In the next few minutes, as you race around the cellar with him lumbering after you, you feed him a can of paint, the other gum boot, a few pieces of firewood, and a book called So Much to Tell You . The book’s the only thing he seems to have trouble digesting. Everything else goes down without a pause. You’re getting desperate when your eye suddenly lights on a small can in one corner. It’s labelled 2- STROKE FUEL , and it gives you an idea. You grab it as you race past and you screw its lid off. The next time the creature has you cornered and is roaring straight at you, you chuck the whole can down his throat. Then you grab a box of matches, light one, and throw it down, too.
    The explosion is a beauty. You know those gadgets they advertise on TV that shred, chop, mince and puree? Well, forget about them. The explosion shreds, chops, minces and purees the hairy beast better than any gadget. It’s such a blast that it has the side effect of blowing you out of the cellar, straight up the stairs and halfway