Werewolf Skin (Goosebumps, No 60)
R. L. Stine
Language: English
Pages: 125
ISBN: 0590390538
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Despite warnings from his aunt and uncle to stay out of the woods and the creepy house next door, photography freak Alex Hunter can't resist going out late one night to take pictures during a full moon.
That Hannah told the truth. I had to let them know the danger they were in. And I had to take more photographs. I’d been through such a horrible scare. My heart pounded, and my arms and legs felt all trembly and weak. I didn’t feel like me. I felt as if I were outside myself, watching myself. But I knew I couldn’t run back to the house. Not until my aunt and uncle were safe. I kept pretty far behind the creatures, far enough that I could slip behind a tree or bush if one of them glanced
tugged her into the room and shut the door behind us. “We’ve got a problem,” I told her. She fiddled with the rag hat that flopped down over her forehead. “Problem?” “Yeah. Uncle Colin and Aunt Marta are werewolves.” “Huh?” Her eyes bulged. “What did you say?” I explained everything. Speaking rapidly in a low whisper, I told her all that I’d seen last night. “They hide their wolf skins in the Marlings’ house,” I finished. “But the Marlings —?” Hannah started. “There are no Marlings!” I
Here.” She handed me the other wolf skin. “Hurry. Put it on. The moon is already high. Your aunt and uncle will be looking for these soon.” I took the skin from her. My hand sank into the thick fur. I unfolded it and held it up. “Here goes,” I whispered. “I said I wanted to be a werewolf for Halloween. Guess I get my wish.” “Just hurry!” Hannah urged. “We don’t want them to catch us.” I pulled the wolf skin over my head. Down over the old clothes of my costume. It felt a little tight.
And he’s pointing it at you! * * * Race to PAGE 6. SWOOSH! The man on the horse gallops right by you — so fast and close, he nearly knocks you down. “You!” Mistress Barbarous cries. She points at you as she strides into the middle of the ring. “Move it! Get over there so Morton the Knife Thrower can practice!” She points at a huge white board. It’s a target with an outline of a person painted on it. You know from circus camp what to do. You’re supposed to stand in front of the
leaned against a tilted birch tree. I tried to frame the old tree so that its shape looked human. Then I moved all around the tree, photographing its creases, its wrinkles. I shot one slender branch that lowered itself to the ground like a weary arm. I dropped down to my knees and snapped the roots reaching up from the ground like skinny legs. A soft buzz made me raise my gaze. A hummingbird hovered over a flowering weed. I turned and tried to capture the tiny bird in my camera lens. But the