I slipped my fingers around the key and turned it. The lock sprang open with a sharp click. I yanked open the door.
And stared at a hideous monster.
I nearly fell into the room.
I couldn’t move. Couldn’t back away. Couldn’t take my eyes off him.
A living, breathing monster. At least ten feet tall.
Standing inside the locked room.
I gaped at his big, furry body. A body like a gorilla—with leaves and tree roots and sand tangled in his fur. His head was scaly, with snapping rows of jagged alligator teeth.
A foul stench filled the room. The putrid smell of decay. The smell of the swamp.
My stomach heaved.
The creature raised his eyes to me—bulging eyes set into the sides of his enormous head.
He held me in his stare for a moment. Then he glanced down at his hairy paws—where he balanced a tall stack of pancakes.
He began stuffing the pancakes into his mouth. Devouring them. Gnashing them with his jagged teeth.
Still gripping the door handle, I stared at the monster as he ate. He jammed another stack of pancakes down his throat. He swallowed them whole and grunted with pleasure.
His horrible alligator eyes went wide. The thick veins in his neck throbbed as he ate.
I tried to call for help. To scream. But when I opened my mouth, no sound came out.
With one hand the monster shoved pancakes into his mouth—stacks at a time. With the other, he scratched at one of his furry legs.
Scratched and scratched. Until he found a big black beetle, nesting in his fur.
He held the beetle up to the side of his head—to one of his bulging eyes.
The beetle’s legs waved in the air.
He glared at the beetle. At the waving legs.
Then he popped the bug into his mouth—and chomped down on its shiny black shell with a sickening crunch.
Blueberries and beetle juice oozed from his mouth.
Run! I told myself. Run! But I was too terrified to move.
The creature reached down for another stack of pancakes.
I forced myself to take a small step back—into the hall.
The monster jerked his head up.
He glared at me. Then he let out a deep growl.
He let the pancakes slide to the floor and lumbered toward me.
I ran, screaming for help as I charged into the hall.
“Gretchen! Gretchen! What’s wrong?” Clark turned the corner at the end of the corridor.
“A monster! In the locked room! Hurry!” I shrieked. “Hurry! Get help!”
I leaped down the stairs. “Grandma! Grandpa!” I cried out. “A monster!”
I turned to see if the beast was following me—and realized that Clark hadn’t moved.
“There’s a monster in there!” I wailed. “Get away, Clark! Get away!”
He snickered. “You must think I’m pretty stupid to fall for that one.”
Clark headed toward the door of the monster’s room. Grinning.
“No! Please!” I pleaded. “I’m telling the truth!”
“You just want to scare me. To get even.”
“I’m not kidding, Clark! Don’t go in there!” I shrieked. “DON’T!”
