The Awakening Evil by R.L. Stine

Author:R.L. Stine
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Simon Pulse

Chapter

12

Her heart seemed to stop.

Jane shrank away from the stone so suddenly she almost fell into the freshly dug grave.

Why, they were so sure she was going to die they had already dug a grave for her!

They had marked the dates. 1877-1899. 1899. That was this year.

Couldn’t they have waited? What was the terrible rush? Jane stood up, feeling the anger flow through her.

Well, she would surprise them. She would get well. There would be no funeral. Not so soon, anyway.

Jane backed away from the headstone.

SARAH FEAR.

That wasn’t her name anyway. Her name was Jane.

All around her, headstones with the name FEAR poked up from the dark, wet ground.

Like scattered teeth.

Waiting to snatch her up and toss her into that dark hole.

“No!” she shouted.

Ever since she came to Shadyside she had been surrounded. Surrounded by the rumors about the family. Stories about curses, the dark arts, and evil.

And now she was surrounded by these headstones.

“You won’t get me!” Jane screamed. “Do you hear me?”

She started to run. Her head pounded. Red dots exploded in front of her eyes. She felt sick and dizzy. But she kept running.

Bony roots seemed to rise up out of the ground to trip her. Wet leaves slapped at her face like the hands of corpses.

She fell. The air flew out of her lungs with a whoosh. She writhed in agony, unable to take a breath.

She was so sickly, so weak, so wet, so cold.

She would never make it back to the house, she suddenly realized.

It had been such madness to venture out into the cold, rainy night when she was already so ill.

They would find her in the morning. Lying dead in the woods.

Or maybe it would take longer. Weeks, months, before they found her.

Birds and worms and other creatures would find her first. Pick away her flesh till she was a skeleton after all.

Then they could have their funeral.

No!

Somehow Jane forced herself back to her feet and stumbled onward in the darkness.

She staggered out of the woods, and started across the wet lawn that led to the back of the house.

She threw open the back door and half fell into the dark hallway.

Strong hands grabbed her by the shoulders. “What are you doing?” a stern voice demanded. “Are you insane?”

Jason. That’s who it was. Jason Hardy. Her servant. Or was he her stepbrother? She was too sick and worn out to remember which.

And then he was carrying her. Carrying her in his arms. She was floating. Up the steps.

“Do you know how I have been praying for you to recover?” Jason growled. “And this is what you do?”

“I had to visit Thomas,” she murmured. “Anniversary.”

He looked furious. His stiff mustache twitched the way it did whenever he was really upset.

It used to be only Sarah Burns who could make him this angry.

But I am Sarah Burns, she thought. A wild burst of laughter escaped her lips.

No, I’m Jane. Jane Fear.

Clara, the young maid, appeared at the top of the stairs. She followed them into Jane’s bedroom.

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