Werewolf Stories to Tell in the Dark Read Online Free Page A

Ms Matthewson. Ms Peck. Ms Milnes-Smith. Mr Jackson. Ms Canter. And so on.
    â€˜Do you think this is a hotel?’ asked Danny.
    â€˜It’s not posh enough for that,’ said Mary.
    It certainly wasn’t, thought Danny, the clock still pounding in his ears. Then it chimed six. The chimes were deafening. ‘Maybe it’s an undertaker’s,’ he said. ‘With coffins behind those closed doors.’
    â€˜Do you think anyone would come to a dump like this? They wouldn’t get any customers,’ Mary whispered scornfully. ‘Anyway, we’ve never seen a coffin or a hearse.’
    Danny had to agree. But what else could this place be used for? If only he knew what lycanthropy meant. Could it have a link with the Welfare? ‘I suppose it couldn’t be a hostel for the homeless?’ he suggested. ‘Could lycanthropy mean some kind of charity work?’ he added hopefully.
    â€˜But all the people we’ve seen going in and out have been well dressed,’ replied Mary, as they both stared at the closed doors indecisively. Then Danny’s courage returned.
    â€˜I’m going to try a handle,’ he said.
    â€˜Suppose there’s someone inside,’ Mary began, but it was too late. Danny had already gone into action.
    The door of number twelve swung open and they bothbreathed a sigh of relief as they saw there was no one inside. The tiny room – little more than a cubicle – contained a bed, a mirror and a clothes-hanger. There was nothing else.
    â€˜So we’re none the wiser,’ said Mary in disappointment.
    Then she saw something on the pillow and went inside, followed by her brother.
    â€˜Phew,’ said Danny. ‘What a stink!’
    â€˜It’s like – an animal’s been in here,’ she replied. ‘Something musky.’
    Mary picked up the lock of hair from the pillow. It was black and thick and rough and had the same smell as the room.
    â€˜It’s very coarse,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Not like human hair at all.’
    â€˜Let’s go up to the top floor.’ Danny was bolder now. ‘Now we’re here, we should check out the whole building.’
    But upstairs there were only empty rooms covered in dust, the ceilings stained with damp. Clearly they hadn’t been used in years.
    â€˜There’s nothing up here,’ said Mary. ‘Nothing at all.’
    Danny grabbed her arm as many footsteps began to pound up the stairs to the floor below. Soon they could hear the gentle murmur of voices.
    Why don’t they go into their cubicles, wondered Danny. Minutes later, he heard the clinking of glasses and realized to his dismay that he and his sister could be upstairs for some time.
    Danny and Mary were forced to keep out of sight, growing colder and stiffer every minute, until the glasses stopped clinking and the doors of the cubicles began toopen and shut. They waited until there had been absolute silence for a long time and then began to tip-toe down the stairs, knowing their parents must already be terrified by their absence and could well have called the police. But although they both realized they’d been thoroughly irresponsible, the atmosphere was so sinister that the thought of a police search was comforting.
    Suppose the front door’s locked, worried Mary. Suppose we have to stay here all night. Danny was thinking much the same thing.
    There was no one on the landing below and all the doors of the cubicles were closed. Then Danny noticed a card lying on the floor and picked it up, reading the words in the wan moonlight that filtered through the dirty windows. The card simply read: THE LYCANTHROPY SOCIETY. IT’S GOOD TO HAVE SOMETHING IN COMMON.
    â€˜I don’t understand,’ said Danny.
    â€˜Shh. They’ll
hear
you.’
    He lowered his voice and whispered to his sister, ‘I’ve got to find out what’s going on.’
    â€˜No,’ she hissed.