Creep Street Read Free Page B

‘What is the problem? Is there something strange about this house? I’ve got to know.’
    She looks at you for about ten minutes. Well, that’s what it seems like. Then she comes to a decision.
    â€˜Follow me,’ she says. She turns and marches off down the driveway. You hesitate, then go after her. She doesn’t even look around. She goes straight to the old sheds. She goes past the old sheds. You just keep right on following her, down the path. When she gets to the back fence you wonder if you’re going to end up in the next suburb. But at the fence she turns and goes left. You’re still following. Then, looking ahead, you see what she’s heading for. Ahead of you both, in the corner of the yard, are three white crosses. You walk up to them. ‘What . . . what are they?’ you ask nervously.
    â€˜They’re graves,’ she says.
    â€˜Well, thank you very much,’ you say. ‘I’m sure I couldn’t have worked that out for myself. Graves, eh? Well, well, well. White crosses in the ground with names on them and now you tell me they’re graves. Gee, I could have sworn they were peanut M&Ms.’
    She gives you a cold stare, straight from the South Pole. ‘I don’t like sarcasm,’ she says. And walks away. Again.

ou leap back a step and grab the cross. It’s heavy, and it’s fixed to the floor. ‘Leave that alone!’ Stacey screams. She jumps at you, right at your face, her hands trying to tear your skin off. For the first time you notice her long fingernails, like the claws of a bird. She scratches you: long stinging scratches that burn your face. But the force of her jump has left her off-balance. Desperately you grab at the cross again and, using all the strength you can muster, you rip it out of the floor. You suddenly realise that it was upside down, so you reverse it. Stacey’s turning and coming back at you—and then she sees you holding the cross the right way up.
    â€˜AAAAGGHHH!’ she screams, and covers her face with her hands.
    â€˜Back!’ you cry, confident now that you have the upper hand.
    She’s cowering on the floor, sweat dripping from every pore of her body. Suddenly, you notice that her skin seems to be changing right in front of you. It’s bubbling and boiling like hot mud. Then it erupts! You realise you’re looking at the worst case of acne you’ve ever seen. This is unbelievable! This is a girl with a problem. She looks like the ‘before’ model in a Clearasil ad. But, worse than that, things are coming out of the boils on her skin. Horrible black crawling things. They look like deformed spiders. The cross might be working with Stacey but it’s not working with the spiders. They’re coming straight at you. Stacey is lying on the floor writhing like she’s inventing a strange new dance. You glance around desperately. To your left there’s a can of Mortein. But you’re not sure if you want to use that. Maybe it wouldn’t be too good for the environment. And, anyway, it would take a while to work. Maybe you should just use your Doc Martens and stamp all over the horrible little critters.

ou open the door of the car and climb gingerly in. It’s quiet in there, quiet and warm, and the seats are surprisingly soft. The door seems to close by itself. You feel a little nervous and look through the window for Stacey but you can’t see her. Still, this car’s so comfortable that you’re not too bothered about Stacey. It’s like you can’t be bothered about anything really. You feel quite sleepy. It’s strange, because a few moments ago you were so full of energy. You lie back on the soft leather seat and close your eyes. Gee, it’s nice. It’s tempting to go to sleep. But something in you struggles to stay awake. It’s like you have a sixth sense, and it’s warning you of danger. Danger? What danger could