Phantom of the Auditorium by R. L. Stine

home.”
    “And so you tried to stop our play?” Zeke demanded, huddling close to me. “You tried to ruin our play so we wouldn’t use the trapdoor and find you down here?”
    The Phantom nodded.
    “And what happened seventy-two years ago?” I asked him. “What happened to you the first time the play was supposed to be performed? Why did you disappear that night?”
    The Phantom’s expression changed. I saw confusion in his silvery eyes. “I — I don’t understand,” he stammered, staring hard at me, his white hair falling over his forehead.
    “Seventy-two years ago,” I insisted.
    A bitter smile formed on his lips. “Hey, I’m not
that
old!” he replied. “I’m only fifty-seven.”
    “Then … you’re not the Phantom?” Zeke asked uncertainly.
    Emile shook his head. He let out a weary sigh. “I don’t understand this Phantom talk, young man. I’m just a poor homeless guy trying to protect my little space.”
    All three of us studied him, trying to decide if he was telling the truth. I decided that he was. “You’ve been living here under the school?” I asked softly. “How did you know about this room down here?”
    “My father worked at the school for thirty years,” Emile replied. “He used to bring me here with him when I was a kid. When I lost my apartment in town, I remembered this space. I’ve been living here ever since. For nearly six months now.”
    His eyes glared angrily again. He brushed the hair off his forehead as his ugly scowl returned. “But you’re ruining it for me, aren’t you?” he said sharply. “You’re ruining it all for me.”
    He moved quickly, stepping from the doorway, entering the room, walking toward us with that menacing expression.
    I stumbled back. “Wh-what are you going to do to us?” I cried.

23
    “You ruined everything. Everything,” he repeated, moving toward us.
    “Now, wait —” I cried, raising my hands as if to shield myself.
    Then I heard a sound. From out in the tunnel. A low clanking sound. I turned to Zeke and Brian. They heard it, too. The trapdoor! It was moving. Coming down. We could hear it at the other end of the tunnel.
    I think all three of us had the same idea at once. We
had
to get to that trapdoor. It was our only chance of escape.
    “You ruined everything,” Emile repeated, suddenly sounding more sad than angry. “Why didn’t you listen to my warnings?”
    Without saying a word to each other, Zeke, Brian, and I charged for the door. “Oh!” I bumped into Emile as I scooted past.
    To my surprise, he didn’t reach out to grab me, didn’t try to stop me.
    I led the way out the door, running at full speed. My legs still felt as rubbery as chewing gum. But I forced them to move. One running step, then another.
    I didn’t glance back. But I could hear Zeke and Brian at my heels. And then I heard Emile’s voice echoing through the tunnels: “You ruined everything. Everything!”
    Was Emile chasing after us?
    I didn’t care. I just wanted to get to the trapdoor platform and get out of there!
    I plunged blindly through the dark, curving tunnel. My sneakers sank into the soft dirt floor as I ran. My shoulder scraped the rough wall, but I didn’t slow down.
    The light bounced over the ground at my feet. I raised it as the trapdoor platform came into view. I was gasping for breath. My side ached from running.
    “Huh? What are
you
doing down here?” a man’s voice called.
    Zeke’s dad!
    Zeke, Brian, and I scrambled onto the platform, squeezing beside him.
    “What’s going on?” Mr. Matthews demanded. “Whose voice is that?”
    “Up!” I managed to choke out. “Take us up.”
    Zeke reached out and flipped the switch. This time it moved.
    With a hard jerk, the platform started to raise itself.
    I gazed back to the tunnel. Had Emile followed after us?
    No. No sign of him.
    He hadn’t even chased us.
    Weird,
I thought.
So weird.
    “I heard a man’s voice. Who was that?” Mr. Matthews demanded again.
    “A