37 - The Headless Ghost by R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead)

Author:R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead)
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2011-05-30T07:00:00+00:00

18

Stephanie bumped me hard. I shot out both hands. Grabbed the wall to keep from falling down the stairs.

No time to turn and run.

The footsteps grew louder. And heavier. Light from a flashlight swept over Stephanie, then me.

Squinting against the light, I saw a dark figure climbing up to us. “So there you are!” his voice boomed, echoing in the stairwell.

A familiar voice.

“Otto!” Stephanie and I both cried.

He bounced up in front of us, moving the flashlight from her face to mine. “What are you two doing up here?” he demanded breathlessly.

“Uh… we got lost,” I answered quickly.

“We got separated from the tour,” Stephanie added. “We tried to find you.”

“Yes. We tried,” I chimed in. “We were searching everywhere. But we couldn’t catch up to the group.”

Otto lowered the flashlight. I could see his tiny dark eyes narrowing at us. I don’t think he believed our story.

“I thought you two knew my tour by heart,” he said, rubbing his chin.

“We do,” Stephanie insisted. “We just got turned around. We got lost. And we—”

“But how did you get up here on the top floor?” Otto demanded.

“Well…” I started. But I couldn’t think of a good answer. I turned back to Stephanie on the step above me.

“We heard voices up here. We thought it was you,” she told Otto.

It wasn’t exactly a lie. We did hear voices.

Otto lowered the beam of light to the stairs. “Well, let’s get back downstairs. No one is allowed on this floor. It’s private.”

“Sorry,” Stephanie and I murmured.

“Watch your step, kids,” Otto warned. “These back stairs are very steep and rickety. I’ll lead you back to the group. Edna took over for me while I went to find you.”

Edna was our second-favorite tour guide. She was old and white-haired. Very pale and frail-looking, especially in her black tour-guide outfit.

But she was a great storyteller. With her quivering, old voice, she really made you believe every frightening story she told.

Stephanie and I eagerly clumped down the stairs, following Otto. His flashlight swept in front of us as he led us out onto the second floor. We followed a long hallway. A hallway I knew very well.

We stopped outside Joseph Craw’s study. Joseph was Andrew’s father. I peeked inside. A bright fire blazed in the fireplace.

Edna stood beside the fireplace, telling the tragic story of Joseph Craw to the tour group.

Stephanie and I had heard the sad story a hundred times. A year after Andrew had his head cut off, Joseph came home late one winter night. He took off his coat, then moved to the fireplace to warm himself.

No one knows how Joseph was burned up. At least, that’s how Otto, Edna, and the other guides tell the story. Was he pushed into the fireplace? Did he fall in?

One guess is as good as another.

But when the maid came into the study the next morning, she found a horrifying sight.

She found two charred, blackened hands gripping the mantel.

Two hands, holding on tightly to the marble mantelpiece.

All that was left of Joseph Craw.

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