Creep Street by John Marsden Page B

of there, you don’t want to know what it is, but there’s no way in the world you can look away. And then it comes . . . the worst sight in the world. A hand slithers out of the hole, not a skeletal bony hand but a pink fleshy one, warm and alive, slithering across the ground like a disgusting family of worms. And out comes another one. And neither of them is attached to an arm. Or to anything.
    â€˜AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.’
    Half of that is you, half is Stacey. The hands are coming slowly across the ground towards you. You just have time to notice that a finger is completely missing from one hand before you turn and run, screaming, back towards the house. Stacey is stuck to you like a Siamese twin. You arrive at the house together, in a time you later calculate as 1.8 seconds for a distance of 80 metres. You cross the verandah, throw the kitchen door open, and fall into the house, still stuck to Stacey. You slam the door behind you, lock it, rip out the key, and rush round the room, checking the windows. Stacey is pulling tables and chairs against the door. For hours, the two of you huddle there in a state of terror. Every time there’s a noise outside, you clutch each other like you’re a librarian and she’s a book. When dawn finally appears you can hardly believe you’ve survived the night. Maybe your life will actually run on for a few more days yet.
    It’s amazing but no-one upstairs seems to have heard you. Before they get up and start asking embarrassing questions you and Stacey put the kitchen back in order.
    Then you look at her and say: ‘Well, do you want to go check it out?’
    She says: ‘I think we’d better.’

ou climb faster and faster. The bell’s ringing so loudly now, so close to you, that it’s deafening. You wonder if you’ll ever be able to hear anything again. You try to remember: is that how the Hunchback of Notre Dame went deaf? But there’s no time to think about that. Stacey and her father are still right behind you. Then suddenly the noise stops. You realise why: it’s because you’re so close to the bell that you’re not swinging the rope now. So, you don’t hear the ringing any more, but you don’t hear anything else either. Your head feels numb.
    You jump off the rope onto a little platform that runs around the belltower. From it you can see the roofs of the houses far below. You don’t like heights at the best of times, and this is the worst of times. You run around the platform, getting as far away from Stacey and her dad as possible. But that’s not going to save you. Already Stacey’s father is getting off the rope. Now he’s coming towards you. His eyes are red and shining, his face is glistening with sweat, his mouth is open and his white pointy teeth are glinting and flashing. This is the most desperate situation you’ve ever been in, worse even than when you tried to stuff your baby brother down the toilet. This time you’re the one down the toilet.
    â€˜Stop!’ you yell at Stacey’s father. At least you think that’s what you yell. You’re so deaf that you’re not sure what you said. And Stacey’s dad must be the same, because he shows no signs of having heard you. He’s reaching out for you, his long hairy arms aiming straight at your face. ‘I hope this is a dream,’ you think, but you know it’s not. Then he grabs you. You struggle as hard as you can, but he’s just too strong. You feel those pointy fangs biting hard into your neck, and a strange shaky feeling comes over you. It’s like your insides are being rearranged. Your blood seems to be getting hotter and hotter. Then you faint.
    Well, that was a long time ago. A few