The Ooze by R.L. Stine Page A

night. No shadow.
    Then why did I feel someone—or something—was watching me?
    I quickly felt under my bed for my silver Eveready flashlight. I keep it there for late-night reading under the covers.
    I flicked on the flashlight. The beam of light caught the ceiling. My dresser. My closet.
    Nothing unusual. Still, I had that creepy feeling—as if a pair of staring eyes were stalking me.
    I clicked off the flashlight. Then I clicked it on again. Having it on made me feel better.
    I clutched it to my chest and sat up in bed. I slid up against my headboard, my knees pressed to my chest. I pointed the beam of light out in front of me.
    The clock on my dresser said midnight. I felt sleepy, but I couldn’t close my eyes. I couldn’t stop thinking about that big, black claw reaching for my throat. And now that I was all alone again, it seemed more real than ever. I shivered and pulled the comforter up to my chin.
    I stared up at the ceiling.
    The head, the horns, the snapping jaw, the shadowy body taking shape on my ceiling. I had seen it. I had no doubts.
    I knew that the shadow monster on my ceiling was real.
    And I knew it was still there. Somewhere.
    And I knew something else.
    I knew it was after me.
    * * *
    Brrring!
    The noise shot straight through my brain. I bolted up in bed, lost my balance, and hit my head against my headboard.
    I rubbed the sore spot with one hand and shut offthe ringing alarm clock with the other. Then I flopped back down on my pillow.
    â€œYeow!”
    I banged my head against the flashlight. Now both sides of my head ached.
    What a day . And I wasn’t even out of bed yet.
    I picked up the flashlight, trying to remember why I had slept with it.
    The shadow!
    My eyes shot up to the ceiling. Rays of sunlight streaming in from the window lit up the constellations of star stickers there and made them sparkle.
    No shadow.
    I sighed with relief—until I glanced at my clock. And groaned. I’d gotten only three hours of sleep last night.
    I dragged myself out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. I felt so tired I could hardly push my legs into my jeans. It took all my strength to pull my T-shirt and sweater over my head.
    Down in the kitchen I swallowed a few spoonfuls of cereal, then headed for school.
    When the bell rang, I sat at my desk, my head propped up in my hand. Mr. Ridgely waddled in and stood at the front of the room.
    â€œGood morning, people,” he greeted us in his droning voice. “Let’s go over last night’s reading assignment.”
    I opened my book and stared down at the page. I tried to focus on the words, but they swam in front of my eyes.
    My eyelids began to droop. My head began to nod.
    Bang!
    I shot up in my seat. My heart thudded in my chest.
    Two rows over I spied Bobby bending down to pick up his textbook. “Sorry,” he muttered.
    I thought Bobby’s scare would keep me awake for a while, but it didn’t. My eyelids felt like two twenty-pound weights. I couldn’t keep them open.
    I tried pinching myself whenever they began to close. It worked, but only for a few seconds.
    Finally, I sat up straight. I stared wide-eyed at my textbook. Concentrate! Concentrate! I ordered myself.
    The next thing I knew, I felt a trickle of drool drip down the side of my chin.
    And something hit me in the head.
    I bolted up. Blinked my eyes. I heard everyone laughing.
    I spotted the chalkboard eraser on the floor next to me.
    Mr. Ridgely stood at the front of the room, arms crossed, staring.
    â€œSorry to wake you up, Vinny. Have a nice nap?” he asked.
    I opened my mouth to answer—and yawned. Which made everyone laugh even more.
    â€œDo you have the answer, Mr. Salvo?” Mr. Ridgely asked stiffly.
    Everyone in the classroom grew silent. “Answer?” I chuckled nervously. I didn’t even know what the question was.
    I glanced at the chalkboard. There were numbers scrawled across it. We were doing