Halloween Party (Fear Street Book 8)
Halloween Party: Chapter 5

Halloween Night

The wind picked up, gusting wildly through the old cemetery, shaking the bare tree limbs like the bony fingers of skeletons. Niki squeezed Terry’s hand as they approached the Cameron mansion. They were following Murphy, who was still chuckling over the scare he’d given them.

Suddenly Niki wheeled around. Two other kids were making their way through the cemetery, their costumes glowing in the pale, silvery October moonlight.

Everyone had been given directions to come the same way. They all had to park in the cul-de-sac at the end of Fear Street and cut through the cemetery to Justine’s house at the edge of the woods.

In spite of the scare Murphy had given him and Niki, Terry decided that going through the cemetery had been a great idea. What could be better for putting everyone in a thrills-and-chills Halloween mood?

Up close, the Cameron mansion looked even spookier than it had from the cemetery. It was surrounded on both sides by barren trees that looked as if they must be hundreds of years old. The ground-floor windows were covered with heavy iron grates, and beside them battered wooden shutters banged in the wind.

They may be fixing this old house up, thought Terry, but it still resembles something out of a horror movie. Maybe it really is haunted. Just then there was a break in the wind, and he could hear music and shrieks of laughter from inside. It sounded as if the party had already started.

Murphy was clomping up the front steps to the porch, his zombie costume fluttering around him in the wind. Terry sneaked a quick glance at Niki and squeezed her hand reassuringly. She was dressed as an old-fashioned carnival reveler, in a beautiful red satin ball gown and flowing black cape. She had copied the dress from a book of old party costumes. She was beautiful. Grinning at Terry excitedly, she slid on her shiny black feathered eye mask.

Quickly Terry pulled on his own mask. His mother had helped him dress up as a greaser from the 1950s. He was wearing black chino pants and old saddle shoes of his father’s that he’d found in the attic. He had rolled a pack of cigarettes in one sleeve of his tight white T-shirt and had a loose dark jacket over it. His hair was slicked back on the sides with Vaseline and teased up in the front. When he had left his house that evening, he’d thought he looked pretty cool, but now he wondered if he just looked silly.

Like a wimp.

As if reading his thoughts, Niki reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “You look great, Terry,” she said.

Terry smiled down at her. “So do you, Funny Face.” He slid up his mask and leaned over to kiss her. She kissed him back, and for a moment they just stood there, holding each other awkwardly because of their costumes, and kissing.

“Uh, Terry,” Niki said after a moment. “What about the party?”

“What party?” said Terry. But he pulled away and smiled down at her again. Then, hand in hand, they mounted the steps up to the vine-choked porch. Murphy must have already gone inside, because the porch was empty.

There was a heavy, ornate door knocker in the shape of a skull in the center of the old wooden door. Terry reached out to pull it when suddenly a huge hairy spider swooped through the air and landed on his arm.

“No!”

Niki shrieked and Terry jumped back, his heart pounding.

“Gotcha again!”

Terry spun around and saw Murphy standing on the railing on the side of the porch, hidden by some of the vines. Cackling maniacally, Murphy jumped onto the porch. The giant rubber bug was on the end of a long pole and rubberband that he jerked up and down like a yo-yo.

Murphy laughed. “You two sure scare easy. If all the wimps are as wimpy as you, the jocks’ll win this contest easy.”

“Very funny, Murph,” said Terry. He took a deep breath and then laughed.

Adjusting his mask, he raised his hand to knock again. There was a creaking noise, and the door slowly swung open.

Justine’s living room was an eerie wonder, the ultimate fantasy of the ultimate Halloween dream—or nightmare. Artificial cobwebs hung in every corner, and cutouts of skeletons, witches, and bats dipped and swooped from the ceiling.

Along a narrow balcony above one side of the living room were colored spotlights that seemed to sweep the room in time to the music, their flickering lights causing everything to move eerily. The only other light came from the huge open fireplace, where a big black kettle was boiling, sending greenish fumes bubbling up.

All the furniture was from another century, but the music booming from hidden speakers was now. The whole effect was like the world’s most modern haunted castle.

Even Murphy was impressed. “Wow,” he said, stopping just inside the living room door. “I mean—wow!”

“Oh, Terry, it’s excellent!” Niki gripped his arm in excitement.

They stood in the open door a moment as an apparition of beauty—or evil—crossed the room. It took Terry a moment to recognize Justine. She was dressed all in black, in a body-hugging, low-cut satin gown and high spiked sandals. Her thick blond hair was piled high on her head, and she had powdered her face and throat so they were dead white—except for a slash of red on her full lips and the glittering green irises of her eyes.

“She looks like that dark-haired woman on TV with the horror movies. Elvira,” Terry whispered.

Justine paused for effect, then smiled warmly. “Welcome to my crypt!” she said. “Almost everyone else is here. We were beginning to think the ghouls got you!”

“Great costume, Justine,” said Niki.

“Thanks,” said Justine. “I always wanted to be a vampire.” She said it as if she meant it, then laughed. “Your costume’s pretty cool too. It reminds me of one I saw at the Venice Carnivale.”

“The what?” said Niki.

“A big party they hold in Venice once a year,” said Justine. “Everyone dresses up and parties through the streets and canals. That’s Venice, Italy,” she added. “I used to live there with my—my uncle. Which reminds me. Uncle Philip, I’d like you to meet my new friends.”

A very skinny man stepped out of the shadows beside the fireplace. He was wearing a blue satin clown costume, and his face was covered with greasepaint in a sad clown mask. A single sparkling tear was glued below his right eye.

“This is Murphy Carter, Niki Meyer, and Terry Ryan,” Justine said.

“I’m very pleased to meet all of you,” said Philip, studying each one carefully with his sad clown eyes.

“We’re very pleased to meet you,” said Terry, shaking Philip’s hand. “Your place is terrific.”

“Yes,” agreed Niki. “This is the most incredible party I’ve ever been to.”

“Why, thank you,” said Philip. “We had an engineer from Starflight Disco install the lights and sound system. Justine picked out all the tapes and CDs. We—my niece and I—have done all we could to make sure this is a party you will never forget.”

“Let me take your coats,” said Justine. “Come on in and join the fun. There’s food over there on top of the casket, and soda chilling in that kettle.”

Justine and her uncle left to talk to the other guests.

Terry remained by the door, checking out the fantastic decor. A couple of kids were dancing by the fireplace, and a few more were standing and eating and laughing. With all the decorations, the place looked like a movie set.

Justine and her uncle must have a lot of money, Terry thought. This party cost plenty. I wonder why she wanted to spend so much on just nine people?

“Pretty weird, huh?” said Niki at his side.

“Weird? Are you kidding! It’s great!” exclaimed Terry.

“They’ve spent a lot of money on this party,” Niki went on as if she had been reading his thoughts. “I wonder why she went to all this trouble?”

“Beats me,” said Terry. “Maybe we’re her favorite charity.”

“Lucky us,” said Niki. “Still—I’d like to know more about Justine.”

Terry laughed. Niki was the most naturally curious person he’d ever known. “Hey, Funny Face,” he said. “You can play Nancy Drew later. For now, let’s check out the refreshments.”

He took her hand and led her to the side of the room. As Justine had said, the refreshment “table” was a shiny black coffin. It was covered with an appetizing array of cheese, bread, crackers, and various dips and hors d’oeuvres, including several Terry had never seen before. A shelf above the coffin held huge bowls of chips and platters of pizza—pepperoni, onion, sausage, and every combination Terry had ever heard of. Below all the food was a huge black cauldron packed with ice and dozens of cans of soda.

“Look at this!” Terry said. “I’ve never seen so much food at a party.”

“Me neither,” Niki agreed, “except maybe when my parents have their New Year’s party.” She reached for a cracker covered with something pink. “Yummy!” she said. “I wonder what it is.”

“Tarama salata,” said Angela, who suddenly appeared beside her. She touched Niki’s shoulder and repeated the words so Niki could read her lips. “It’s a Greek dish made out of fish eggs. I asked Justine. She said she learned how to make it when she lived in the Greek islands.”

“It’s good,” said Niki thoughtfully. “Try some, Terry.”

“Fish eggs?” he said. “Thanks, anyway. I’ll stick with pizza!” He stepped back and eyed Angela’s costume appreciatively. She was dressed like a biker girl, all in leather, and had stenciled tattoos on her arms and neck. “Neat costume,” he said.

“Thanks!” said Angela. “You should see some of the others. This is definitely the most excellent party I’ve ever been to.”

While Niki sampled something green with white swirls in it, Terry munched on pizza and surveyed the rest of the party. It was a little hard to see with all the shadows, but he could make out Trisha and David talking in a corner underneath a human skull. David was wearing his basketball uniform, only instead of a basketball he was holding a big, round papier-mâché skull.

Trisha, her round face cheery and excited, was wearing a cheerleader’s outfit from the fifties, with a tight pink sweater and short white skirt over white ankle-length boots. She had a big megaphone in her hand, and would have looked ridiculous, except she was obviously having such a good time.

In front of the fireplace Justine was dancing with Murphy: the vampire and the zombie. They looked gross, but also fascinating, like creatures out of a horror movie.

Terry was just wondering where the last couple of kids were when he heard a strange noise behind him. He turned and gawked, then started laughing. He couldn’t help himself. It was Ricky Schorr, dressed as a frog.

He was wearing bright green long underwear, a pair of swim fins, and had a half mask on top of his head with bulging black eyes. “Ribit,” he said.

“I don’t believe this!” Terry finally said when he could breathe again. “You came as your biology project.”

“You like it?” said Ricky, taking a swig of diet Dr Pepper. “I dyed the underwear myself. My mom got kind of upset, though—she couldn’t get all the color out of her washing machine.”

“I think it’s the real you,” said Angela nastily. “Sort of slimy and nerdy.”

“Oh, yeah?” said Ricky. “That shows all you know. If you kiss me—I’ll turn into a prince.”

“I’ll take my chances with the zombie, thanks,” said Angela. Murphy and Justine had stopped dancing, and Angela walked over and took Murphy’s hand.

“Hey, Funny Face,” said Terry, touching Niki on the arm. “If you can stop eating for a couple of minutes—want to dance?”

A fast, hard rap song was on, and Niki closed her eyes a moment, to better sense the beat of the music, coming through vibrations in the floor. “Sure,” she said. “I’d better stop eating anyway. Terry, this is the most fabulous food! She’s got things here from Greece, Japan, France, Mexico . . . . ”

“Not to mention good old American pizza,” said Terry.

“Don’t be a dweeb,” said Niki. She twirled away from him, then came back. “There’s one thing I can’t figure out,” she said. “I don’t see how Justine could possibly have lived in all those places. I mean, she’s just a senior.”

“Ask her later,” said Terry. Another song started and they kept dancing. He watched Niki proudly. Niki was the prettiest girl there. Justine was too ghoulish, and Angela looked like a tramp, but Niki’s red dress brought out the vibrant color in her cheeks and lips and made her dark eyes glow like coals.

To one side Ricky and Trisha danced, the bilious green frog and the plump cheerleader, both of them having a great time.

This is a cool party, Terry told himself. I still don’t know why we were invited—but I’m glad.

The tape clicked off. While Philip went to change it, there was the sound of heavy knocking at the front door. Justine went to answer it, and everyone turned to see the late arrival.

For a moment there was total silence. Standing in the living room dòorway, framed against the dark hallway, was a figure dressed in shining silver from head to toe.

He struck a pose, like a matador, then strode into the living room. Now Terry could see that it was Alex, dressed in a skin-tight silver body suit and a glittering silver mask. Beneath the silver his muscles rippled as he moved.

What a show-off, Terry thought.

Niki gripped Terry’s hand tighter, and she whispered, “Wow! He looks fantastic!”

Several of the other guests began to whistle and shout.

Even Justine couldn’t take her eyes off Alex. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she said at last, “I give you—the Silver Prince!”

Alex came the rest of the way into the living room as if he owned it.

Terry couldn’t resist saying something. Niki’s exclamation of how fantastic Alex looked had set him off. “Hey, Alex,” he called, “what are you supposed to be—the Tin Woodsman? Or is it Tinkerbell?”

Alex laughed. “Admit it, Ryan,” he said. “You could never look this good in a million years.”

Terry was still trying to think of a sarcastic reply when the music started up again, and for a moment Alex danced by himself, the complete center of attention.

Niki tugged at Terry’s arm. “Come on, Terry,” she said. “Let’s dance.” She gave him such a loving look that for a moment Terry forgot to envy Alex’s spectacular costume. Take that, Silver Prince, he thought. Show off all you want, but Niki wants to dance with me.

Even though she couldn’t hear the sounds of the music, Niki was one of the best dancers Terry had ever known. She’d once explained to him how she felt the beat through her body, but he still wasn’t sure how she did it.

All he knew was that he liked it. He felt as if he could dance like that forever, holding Niki close to him, the warmth of her body against his.

The slow song ended, and another started up, just as slow and romantic. Terry brushed Niki’s hair with his lips, inhaling her spicy fragrance.

BAARRROOOOM.

The noise was as loud as a thunderclap.

“What was that?” someone yelled.

Everyone was startled.

The tape switched off.

“Hey—what’s going on?”

In the next instant the room filled with smoke. Then the room filled with frightened cries, confused whispers.

No one was sure if it was a trick of some kind—or a catastrophe.

Terry was about to pull Niki toward the door when Justine stepped into the center of the room.

“Like my surprise?” she asked, her sexy body almost disappearing in the smoke. “It’s what they call a flash pot. My uncle Philip picked it up when he was a stage manager. I wanted to get your attention. Did I succeed?”

A couple of kids cheered and clapped. A few were still too stunned to react.

Justine smiled, then raised an eyebrow. “I promised you lots of surprises,” she said. “And there will be more to come. But for now—who’s up for more dancing?”

The cheers and applause grew even louder. Terry found himself cheering too. It seemed that anything could happen at this party, and he was ready for it.

“Good,” said Justine. “But first I have to tell you a true story. Throughout history people have loved to dance. But in the Middle Ages dancing was sometimes much more than just fun. In fact, some people were said to be taken by evil spirits when they danced. They would dance faster and faster, faster and faster, till they literally danced themselves to death. I don’t know if we have evil spirits here tonight, but anything can happen on Halloween. Is anyone brave enough to try some really fast music?”

“Yeah!”

“Let’s go!”

“Yo!”

The crowd was now ready for anything. If Justine had told them all to jump into a swimming pool with their clothes on, Terry thought, they would have done it.

“We’ll see how fast you can go!” Justine said. She reached behind her and flicked a switch. The candles on the wall went out. At the same time a strobe light came on, and the music came back on, loud and fast, a relentless synthesized rhythm, over electronic-sounding voices repeating “Pump up the jam, pump up the jam,” over and over.

The fire in the fireplace had died down to embers, so the only light came from the strobe. In its rapid flickering everything seemed to move faster and faster.

Terry took Niki’s hands and twirled her. Everyone was laughing, dancing, shouting, and changing partners. In the eerie light it was hard to see who was dancing with whom. Once Terry found himself dancing with Ricky!

It was fun, but it went on and on. Whenever Terry started to slow down, the music went faster.

In the center of the room Alex was twirling like a shiny silver top, and Terry suddenly wondered where Niki was. Just when he spotted her, dancing with David, the lights went out. The tape player died down with a sad groan.

For a moment there was dead silence. Except for the faint glow from the fireplace the room was in total darkness.

“What is this, Justine, another surprise?” asked Murphy’s voice after a moment.

“I don’t know what happened,” said Justine. She sounded a little frightened. “Uncle Philip—”

“I’ll check the fuse box,” Philip’s voice said calmly. “Don’t go away.”

“Don’t worry, everyone,” said Justine, still sounding scared. “We just had a new electric system installed, and the strobe must have overheated it. My uncle will change the fuses, and we’ll—”

At that moment the artificial candles came back on and the tape started up again.

But no one felt like dancing anymore because the light showed a horrifying sight.

In front of the fireplace, half on and half off the rug, lay a limp body.

Blood trickled down its sides from the huge carving knife sticking out of its back.