ماسک روح زده فصل 18

The Haunted Mask - Chapter 18

It all seemed to happen in slow motion.

The two boys moved slowly past the hedge. They were talking excitedly to each other. But to Carly Beth, their voices seemed low and far away.

She pulled herself up, stepped out from the hedge, and screamed at the top of her lungs.

Even in the dim light, she could see their reactions clearly.

Their eyes went wide. Their mouths dropped open. Their hands shot up above their heads.

Steve cried out. Chuck grabbed the sleeve of Steve’s coat.

Carly Beth’s scream echoed over the dark front lawn. The sound seemed to hover in the air.

Everything moved so slowly. So slowly, Carly Beth could see Chuck’s eyebrows quiver. She could see his chin tremble.

She could see the fear shimmer in Steve’s eyes as they moved from her mask up to the head on the broomstick.

She waved the broomstick menacingly.

Steve uttered a frightened whimper.

Chuck gaped at Carly Beth, his frightened eyes locked on hers. “Carly Beth—is that you?” he finally managed to choke out.

Carly Beth uttered an animal growl, but didn’t reply.

“Who are you?” Steve demanded, his voice trembling.

“It—it’s Carly Beth—I think!” Chuck told him. “Is it you in there, Carly Beth?”

Steve let out a tense laugh. “You—scared us!”

“Carly Beth—is it you?” Chuck demanded again.

Carly Beth waved the broomstick. She pointed up to the head. “That’s Carly Beth’s head,” she told them. Her voice was a deep, throaty rasp.

“Huh?” Both boys gazed up at it uncertainly.

“That’s Carly Beth’s head,” she repeated slowly, waving it toward them. The painted eyes of the sculpted face appeared to glare down at them. “Poor Carly Beth didn’t want to give up her head tonight. But I took it anyway.”

Both boys stared up at the head.

Chuck continued to grip Steve’s coat sleeve.

Steve uttered another tense laugh. He stared at Carly Beth, his expression confused. “You’re Carly Beth, right? How are you making that weird voice?”

“That’s your friend Carly Beth,” she growled, pointing up to the head on the broomstick. “That’s all that’s left of her!”

Chuck swallowed hard. His eyes were trained on the bobbing head. Steve stared intently at Carly Beth’s mask.

“Hand over your candy,” Carly Beth snarled, surprised by the vicious tone in her voice.

“Huh?” Steve cried.

“Hand it over. Now. Or I’ll put your heads on the stick.”

Both boys laughed, shrill giggles.

“I’m not joking!” Carly Beth roared.

Her angry words cut their laughter short.

“Carly Beth—give us a break,” Chuck muttered uncertainly, his eyes still narrowed in fear.

“Yeah. Really,” Steve said softly.

“Hand over your bags,” Carly Beth insisted coldly. “Or your heads will adorn my stick.”

She lowered the broomstick toward them menacingly.

And as she lowered it, all three of them stared up at the dark-eyed face. All three of them studied the frozen face, the face that looked so real, that looked so much like Carly Beth Caldwell.

A sudden breeze swirled around them, making the head bob on the stick.

And then, all three of them saw the eyes blink.

Once. Twice.

The brown eyes blinked.

And the lips on the head parted, making a dry scraping sound.

Frozen in horror, Carly Beth stared up at the face along with the two boys.

And all three of them saw the lips move. And heard the dry, crackling sound.

All three of them saw the dark lips squeeze together, then part.

All three of them saw the bobbing head form the silent words: “Help me. Help me.”