Weirdville: Fright Train (Lower Grade Spooky Fun Adventure) Read online

  She pushed the table out of the way like it was nothing. “You can’t defeat me. Just give up already. It isn’t so bad, being dead.”

  Charlie lifted his hands to protect his face. He didn’t want to see her grotesque mouth again, or those gigantic teeth.

  Mom… Dad… I love you.

  Just when he expected the worst, an axe came flying through the door behind him.

  Chapter 10

  “Hold on!” Gregory screamed. He hit the door again with the axe, and a large part of the wood fell through, making a hole large enough for him to crawl through.

  “What are you doing?” Mrs. Weird asked. She halted and directed her gaze toward Gregory. Her black, bottomless eyes now burned with anger.

  “Helping him.”

  “He’s one of the living.”

  “He doesn’t deserve to get killed,” Claire said. She appeared behind Gregory, her face peeking up over his shoulder. Her face was gaunt and dark bags had formed under her eyes. She wasn’t kidding when she’d said she got tired fast.

  “We can’t let him tell the world about us.”

  “We can’t just go around killing people, either.” Claire smiled at him.

  Charlie was too shocked to return the gesture. He lowered his arms, but his hands wouldn’t stop shaking. He pinched his arm, hoping that he’d somehow wake up from this nightmare, but he didn’t.

  “Please step aside.” Gregory addressed the old woman. He still held on to the axe, poising it in front of his chest.

  “You think you can take me on?” She rattled out a laugh that turned Charlie’s heart ice cold in his chest. “You’ve no idea what you’re dealing with.”

  She turned to Gregory, and with a flick of her hand, the weapon flew out of his hands and landed into the wall. “You’ve always been an annoying kid. Always putting your nose where it doesn’t belong, always causing trouble. Two birds, one stone.”

  Gregory’s face turned ashen, and he backed away, his lower lip trembling.

  “Leave him alone! He was just trying to help me. I’m the one you want.”

  Mrs. Weird swirled around, and in a matter of seconds, she stood face to face with him, her smell overwhelming his senses. She smelled like a dead animal that had been rotting for days in warm weather. Now he realized where the stench had come from before—it wasn’t the toilet acting up in the bathroom. The stench had come from Claire, and before that, the smell had come from Camille.

  Because they were dead. They were zombies; well, more like ghouls or ghosts, or whatever, and he was on a train filled with them.

  He wanted to throw up but there was no time for that, as Mrs. Weird almost pressed her face against his. He kicked her knees as hard as he could, and she buckled over, groaning from pain.

  “Thaddeus, do something!” she yelled.

  “Run!” Claire grabbed Charlie’s hand and they started running, with Gregory on their heels.

  Charlie stared at his hand in hers, and the nausea returned tenfold. He was touching a corpse.

  He yanked his hand free and looked at his watch, pretending that was the reason why he’d pulled out of her grip. Five more minutes, tops, and they’d arrive in Weirdville.

  A smile crept to his lips, and he laughed out loud. “Guys, we’ll be in Weirdville soon.”

  “I doubt that.” Mrs. Weird materialized in front of them, her arms crossed over her chest. She stood up straight now, and somehow she looked younger than she had before. Wrinkles had disappeared from her face, and her hair had turned black here and there.

  The three of them stopped dead in their tracks. “How…,” Claire said, unable to form a full sentence.

  “That’s not possible. Nobody can teleport.” Gregory’s jaw dropped to the floor.

  “You can’t,” Mrs. Weird said. “But I can.”

  “How can you have so many more powers than we do?” Claire grabbed Gregory’s arm, and retreated back on their steps.

  “How?” The woman laughed so loud it echoed through the coach. “Because I created you, that’s why.”

  Chapter 11

  “You… created us? How?” Claire blinked a few times in confusion.

  “Well, now the cat is out of the bag. All of you always wondered why the Weirdville cemetery was the only cemetery where the buried people came back to life, and became ghouls. The truth is that I’ve known all along why this happened, and why it only happened there.” She paused and pursed her lips, looking like a cat who’d just gotten milk.

  Charlie clenched his fists as anger soared through him. How could the old witch enjoy doing this? The look on Claire and Gregory’s faces bordered on panic. Tears blinked in Claire’s eyes, and she held on to his arm as if her life depended on it.

  “Because I did it. Two hundred and more years ago, I cursed Weirdville Cemetery. From that point on, anyone buried in the soul of the graveyard would come back to life.”

  “Why?” Claire sobbed. “Why would you do that? And why not tell us?”

  “I did it because I couldn’t let anyone have peace in death, not after my own peace had been denied. The Weirds, we’re cursed. A fortune teller once told me my curse would be that when I passed away, I’d come alive again. I didn’t believe her, but then it happened, and I was all alone. There was no one out there like me. I haunted the graveyard on my own, wishing desperately for some company.”

  She shook her head as if to vanquish the memory. “So I cursed the soil, and anyone buried there would come back as one of the living dead. They’d be exactly like me, except less powerful. I had to make you less powerful, so I could control you.”

  “You locked us up in there. You denied us our access to the afterlife.” Fury flared over Claire’s face. Her eyes grew wide, and her mouth twisted into a snarl. She let go of Gregory and stormed at the old woman.

  Before she could touch her, however, Mrs. Weird disappeared. Seconds later, she reappeared behind Gregory. “It’s useless, girl,” she said. “You can’t defeat me. Be angry all you want, but you’ll learn to accept your fate, in time. If you don’t, then you’ll get the same destiny as your friend over here.” She nodded at Charlie.

  “You can’t kill me. I’m already dead!”

  “But I can torture you, and do things a million times worse than kill you. Besides, that’s where you’re wrong—even the dead can die. Die once as the living dead, and you get sent straight to hell.”

  Claire stopped dead in her tracks. “You….” She choked on the words, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You kept me away from my mom and dad for so long. It’s your fault I’m not with them!”

  “My fault?” Mrs. Weird raised an eyebrow. “You were murdered. Nobody knew who you were. How can it be my fault they buried you in Weirdville Cemetery? I gave you a chance, a life that lasted longer than the one you were originally given. I saved you.”

  Guilt flooded over Charlie. Murdered. Claire was murdered. Since they met, she’d done nothing but try to save him, and then he couldn’t even bear touching her because she was dead. He’d been a horrible person.

  “You kept me from my parents!” Claire shouted.

  “And me from mine,” Gregory said. The look in his eyes had been replaced by something dark and cunning, something predatory. His face twisted into a savage mask, and he made a noise like a growl.

  “You don’t even remember your parents,” Mrs. Weird spat at them. For a moment, she turned pale and her lip trembled, as if she’d lost her bravado and was actually afraid of them.

  Then Thaddeus hit her over the head with a chair, and she collapsed to the floor.

  Chapter 12

  “Thaddeus!” A smile spread across Claire’s lips. “Why did you do that?”

  “If she’s responsible for making us like this, then she deserved it,” the giant said. He turned to Charlie. “I hope you can forgive me. I didn’t know she was… going to… you know.”

  “It’s all right,” Charlie said. The train began to slow down, and he held on to the wall to st
eady himself. “I really want to get off this train right now.”

  Gregory pressed is face against the window. “We’re almost at the station.” He then turned back toward them, his gaze falling on Mrs. Weird. “She won’t be out for very long.”

  “Maybe we should head over to the next coach,” Claire suggested.

  Before she could say anything else, Mrs. Weird popped up impossibly fast, as if she were a ghost instead of a ghoul. She grabbed Claire’s head and hit it against the wall. Then she lifted the girl up as if she weighted nothing, and pressed her hands around Claire’s neck.

  “No!” Claire cried out. She struggled, kicking at Mrs. Weird’s knees, and trying to yank the older woman’s hands off her. “Not like this! Not again.”

  Charlie sprinted at Mrs. Weird and jumped on her, pushing her to the floor. The woman scratched his face. He cried out and pulled back, and she got out from under him in a matter of seconds.

  Thaddeus tried to grab her, but she threw him against the wall with inhuman strength.

  She turned around to face Charlie, a slow, wicked smile creeping on her lips, as if she were a tiger ready to swallow her prey.

  Charlie crawled back on hands and feet, like a crab, until he hit the exit doors with his back.

  Mrs. Weird chuckled. “Time has run out for you, boy.” She reached over his head to pull the lever of the doors.

  Charlie’s mouth opened in a wordless scream.

  The doors squeaked open and a gush of wind entered the coach. He tried to hold on to something, anything, but there was nothing to grab on to. The wind tugged at him, at his shirt and sleeves, pulling him out of the train.

  Mrs. Weird smiled, her eyes blazing with the fire of victory, but then her mouth dropped open and she tumbled right over Charlie, out of the train.

  Someone grabbed Charlie’s collar, but he’d turned around to see Mrs. Weird disappear under the train.

  Someone screamed. Only when the scream ended did Charlie realize he was the one who had screamed. He turned to face his rescuer and stared straight into Camille’s face.

  She pulled him back, far enough away from the opened doors so that he wouldn’t fall through. The train continued to slow down.

  “You saved me.” Charlie took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down.

  “You’re welcome,” Camille said.

  She offered him a hand, and to his surprise, he took it and let her help him get up. His knees were wobbly, and his head tolled like he’d been on a rollercoaster.

  He swallowed hard. “Do you think she’s dead?”

  “I hope so,” Claire said. She stood back a little, her hand touching her neck. “I can’t believe she was the one who cursed all of us. To think I felt sorry for her.”

  “We all did,” Camille said, and turned back to Charlie. “Listen now, you get off this train, and you forget this ever happened. Don’t tell anyone about us.”

  “I won’t,” Charlie promised. “They wouldn’t believe me anyway.”

  The train rolled into the station, and the platform appeared next to the opened exit doors.

  “You take care,” Camille said. She came closer to him, and Charlie did his best not to gag at the smell. “Give this to your grandma.” She pushed something into his hand.

  Chapter 13

  Charlie got off the train and ran straight at his grandma. She stood under a small covering, huddled in a long coat and oversized hat. She wore a scarf that covered most of her face, and heavy winter boots, but he recognized her right away from her colorful clothing. That, and she was the only person still left in the station.

  “Grandma!”

  “Oh my God, Charlie, you’re here.” She opened up her arms, and he flew straight into them. She hugged him tightly. “I thought something had happened to you.”

  “I’m fine.” He smiled, and his heartbeat finally slowed down. He was safe.

  “What happened? Why are you so late?” Grandma let go of him, and held him at arm’s length to inspect him and ensure that he was really all right.

  “My train was late… because of the bad weather.”

  “I see.” Grandma looked past him, at the train, and her face grew a deadly shade of pale. “Charlie, tell me you didn’t come on that train.”

  Charlie turned around, nodded, and focused back on his grandma. “I did. Why?”

  “No time to explain. Hurry up.” She put a hand on his back and pushed him toward her car, which was parked right outside the station, an old Volkswagen Beetle his dad always made fun of. She opened up the passenger seat and motioned for him to get in. Then she wobbled to the driver’s side and crawled into the car.

  “What’s wrong?” Charlie asked.

  “That train you got out of…. It’s no good. It has a bad vibe all around it. Everyone in Weirdville would know not to get on that train.” She put her hands on the steering wheel, her knuckles turning white from the pressure. “You were lucky, Charlie, very lucky to get out of that train alive.”

  Charlie bit his lip. Since she already seemed to know so much about it, he wanted to spill the entire truth to his grandma, but he’d promised Camille and the others that he wouldn’t. Camille.

  He dug up the object she’d given him from his pocket. He hadn’t looked at it before, just shoved it into his pocket and got off the train. Now he saw it was a bracelet, with tiny charms dangling from a silver chain. One of the charms was a cross, the other an elephant, yet another a flower. There were about a dozen total.

  “What’s that?” his grandma asked. She didn’t really look at it, though, keeping her eyes focused on the road. A layer of snow covered the front window, with a few empty spots they could look through.

  “Someone on the train gave this to me, and she told me I should give it to you.”

  This got her attention. Grandma turned to him, her grey-haired, wrinkled face staring at him with wide eyes and a half-open mouth. “Who did?” Her voice trembled.

  “Her name is Camille.”

  “Ca—” She choked on the words. “Camille?”

  Grandma opened up her hand, and he put the bracelet in it. She stared at it for a long time, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing.

  “Camille was my friend,” she said eventually. “It was a long time ago. I gave her this bracelet when they… when they buried her.”

  Charlie didn’t know what to say, so he kept quiet.

  “I never thought I’d see it again.” When she looked up at him, tears stained her eyes. “Did she look… all right? Happy?”

  “I’m not sure,” Charlie said. “But I think she was okay. She really helped me out.”

  Grandma looked him up and down as if seeing him for the first time. “It sounds to me like you’ve got a story to tell.”

  Just at that moment, a trail of people passed by their car. Some of them wore old-fashioned clothing that had been fashionable around the turn of the last century. Others were dressed in a more contemporary look, but each of them shared the same pale, grey skin.

  “Silence,” Grandma hissed at him.

  The living dead passed them by on their way to the cemetery situated across the station. They both sat in awe, their mouths hanging open as they stared at the macabre parade.

  Camille walked past and winked at Grandma. Tears streamed down her face now, and Charlie grabbed her hand to comfort her.

  Two figures holding hands lingered near the back of the parade. One of them, a girl with blonde hair and dressed in white, raised her hand and waved at him. Already she looked better, healthier, even though she kept the grey skin, but the dark circles under her eyes had vanished and her face looked less gaunt.

  Charlie waved back at Claire, and watched as they disappeared behind the cemetery gates.

  Chapter 14

  Grandma and Charlie had both enjoyed a hot cup of cocoa. She’d called his parents to let them know he’d arrived safely, not once mentioning the ordeal he’d gone through to get there. Then she’d given him a blanket, sat acr
oss from him on the couch, and listened to his tale. He told the entire story from start to finish without looking up, staring at his now empty cup of hot chocolate.

  “You were really brave,” Grandma said after he’d finished. She patted him on his knee. “I can’t believe that woman, Mrs. Weird, or however she was called, would do such a horrible thing. It’s a good thing she’s gone.”

  That brought back memories of Mrs. Weird falling under the train, and Charlie’s stomach acted up again.

  “I don’t feel brave.”

  “But you were. I’m proud of you.” She gave him a kiss on his forehead. “I’ll get you another cup of hot chocolate, if you like.”

  “Yes, please.”

  Grandma disappeared into the kitchen, leaving him alone in the living room. The old grandfather clock in the corner of the room chimed ten o’clock.

  A noise from outside startled Charlie, and he glanced behind him, out the window. Outside, the moon cast a small beam of light, slicing through the thick darkness, but providing barely enough light to see anything. A cat meowed in the distance.

  He breathed out. Probably just the cat.

  Then the noise picked up again, a rattling sound, like someone knocking on the window or the door. He frowned, wondering who might be visiting Grandma at this late hour.

  He walked to the door, ignoring the tiny voice in his mind that told him not to. “Is someone there?” he asked through the door.

  No response. Instead came another knock… and another.

  Charlie retreated back to one of the windows and attempted to look through it. He peered through, seeing nothing in the darkness….

  …until the moonlight fell straight onto the person standing on Grandma’s porch. She still wore the same ragged black dress as before, was and still crouched over, her grey hair falling down on both sides of her face. Then she turned to him, and her face had turned into a skull, with black holes instead of eyes.