The Northern Frights by Derek the Ghost

Author:Derek the Ghost
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins

Since arriving from Scream Academy, the three exchange monsters were trying their best to fit in at such a different school. One was a Cyclops named Cy Clops. Super convenient! Another was an invisible kid named Scotty. Nobody saw him the entire week. The third was a nine-year-old monster named Rory.

During recess, Rory was sitting all alone by the alligators at the bottom of Scary Slide, throwing them little fish snacks. He was hoping someone would join him, but he was very scary-looking, and everyone was afraid to come near him.

Being near those man-eating alligators didn’t help.

At Scream Academy, Rory was considered one of the least scary-looking kids, but here at Scary School, where scary kids were more rare, he looked absolutely terrifying. He was the size of a human adult (already pretty scary), shaped like an apple, and covered in blue fur. He had only one part to his body, so he looked kind of like a giant head. His long arms jutted out where his ears should be and went all the way to the ground. He had short, stubby legs that were all but useless. His mouth took up half of his body, and his teeth looked like unpeeled bananas. Plus he had eyeballs the size of baseballs and a furry unibrow that stretched across his forehead.

Sitting by those gators, Rory was feeling more and more homesick with each fish he threw in their mouths. He wished over and over that he could just go back home.

That’s when he heard a voice from behind him. “Hey, you!”

Standing there were Johnny the Sasquatch, Peter the Wolf, and Ramon the Zombie—probably the three coolest kids at Scary School. Next to them was one of the exchange students from Scream Academy, Cy Clops the kid Cyclops, who held a baseball bat over his shoulder.

“Hello,” said Rory, in a voice that sounded like a tuba because his mouth was so big.

Johnny remarked, “Cy Clops here says your name is Rory. Is that true?”

“It true.”

“You wanna play baseball with us? We need another player.”

“Baseball? I can no play. Helmet no fit my head.”

“That’s too bad. Cy is the bes—” Ramon’s tongue fell out of his mouth, and he quickly picked it up and reattached it. “Sorry. My tongue is loose today. We thought you might be as good as Cy. He’s the best hitter we’ve played with.”

“That’s because I always keep my eye on the ball,” said Cy.

“I’m no good,” said Rory.

“Say,” said Ramon the Zombie, “you have the biggest head I’ve ever seen. If your brain is just as big, could I pleeease have just a small bite? You wouldn’t miss it.”

“Uhhh . . . no, thank you. I think I need every piece of my brain.”

“Smart move,” said Peter the Wolf. “The last kid who let Ramon try his brain forgot all his multiplication tables and thought his teacher was his mom. But since you can’t play baseball, how about another game?”

“What kind of game?”

“With a name like Rory, you must have the scariest roar ever.

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