IT'S A REAL PAGE-BURNER
DISCLAIMER: Hello, I'm nt R. L. Stine. I don't write the Goosebumps books. The only intellectual property that is mine are my added original characters, and my grasp on them is tenuous at best.
ENJOY!
Chapter 1: Leaves on the Wind
Thick smoke blanketed the quiet neighborhood. If one were to look out their window, they might think an eerie fog had rolled in, except those who lived nearest the blaze. Most knew it as "The Old Shiver's Place", but that was the extent of their knowledge Old man Shivers did a great job of keeping everyone at bay, barking at them from the other side of the fence like a guard dog.
As far as everyone in town knew, he'd lived alone, but there were a few scattered sightings of a young girl in the windows. But the fire fighters never found more than one person when they searched the inferno.
Rushed to the hospital, Mr. Shivers was within an inch of his life. Thankfully, his next-door neighbors called 911 when they had, or he would have most certainly been dead. But it wasn't the sound or scent of fire that first alerted them. A pair of siblings were up on the roof, trying to get their telescope to work,
Andrew and Alice were up on the roof for the promise of a full, red moon. Normally, Alice was alone in her astronomical persuits, but the anomaly was too strong for Andrew to pass up. That's when they heard an inhuman scream and saw a blinding, green flash. It lasted less than five seconds, but they were both sure of what they saw and heard. Shortly after, the windows came alight with bright, orange fire.
Leaving the telescope on the roof, they scrambled through the attic window and downstairs to dial 911. Their mother was sleeping, but the approaching sirens brought her into the dining room, where she had a front-row seat to the house fire.
"How awful!", she thought, pulling the curtain to the side to have a better look. "That poor man, all by himself."Malinda Jameson knew what that was like, but she also knew what it was like to be vulnerable and abused. And as bad as being alone was, it was better than being abused. She was treading deep emotional waters when her children ran in.
"Mom, you're awake. We called the fire department already." Her son Andrew (whom everyone called Andy) was 16. He was the youngest and it frightened her to think of him as a teenager, but it was undeniable that he was emotionally mature for his age.
"Do you think there's any chance the fire could spread to our house?" Alice was nearly 18, and a worrier. She must have inherited that from her mother. Or in all reality, from her father's actions. She was six when Allen had put Malinda in the hospital, Andy was only four. But they were both old enough to remember the fear.
Malinda snapped out of her spiral and turned from the dancing flames. "I'm not sure. If it catches that old fence, we could be in trouble. Put your shoes on and get your coats. We'll keep an eye open and bail out if it looks bad." Her voice sounded surprisingly calm to her own ears.
"Hey mom," Andy started, a little hesitantly. "If you saw… I don't know, like a green flash before a fire, what could that mean?"
"A green flash? I have no idea what that could be." She thought about it for a minute and realied she had no answer. "Maybe it's just one of those weird optical illusion-things. Y'know, like when you see spots when someone takes your picture."
"Maybe..." Alice though, watching the dark figures of fire fighters sweep through the unnaturally bright windows. The lights of the ambulance danced on the glass of the dining room window, but the sirens had stopped. She found herself harboring a real concern for the man they wheeled out and loaded into the back, even though she was sure he would have payed her little thought, had it been their house that burned.
Outside, heavy boots trampled grass and sticks in a frantic effort to subdue the blaze. Lengths of hose ran from the hydrant and the truck, blasting water hard enough to shatter window panes. As the ambulance pulled away and the flames died, things calmed down. Jackson Chlo, a volunteer, trekked back to the driver's seat.
He heard a crackle under his foot and looked down. An old piece of paper rested in the grass. It looked as though it had been torn from a book, but sustained no burn damage. He picked it up and turned it over in his hands.
"Hey, Jackson, watcha got?" Al, the fire chief asked from over his shoulder.
"I dunno. It looks like part of a book, but some of it's in a language I don't know." He read aloud, "... man in the heavy boots picked up the page and read aloud from it. Karru Marri Odonna Loma Molonu karrano… what?"
Al chuckled and piped in. "Ting-tang, walla-walla bing-bang." Jackson let the page flutter back to the grass and the two of them climbed back into the truck.
