Frightmares
(Sprache: Englisch)
Nathan used to be terrified of Krazyland when he was a young kid. Now that he's 12, the spooky-themed arcade games aren't that bad. He even enjoys stomping on plastic spiders and battling a creepy doll with big plastic eyes. But things become scarier again...
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Klappentext zu „Frightmares “
Nathan used to be terrified of Krazyland when he was a young kid. Now that he's 12, the spooky-themed arcade games aren't that bad. He even enjoys stomping on plastic spiders and battling a creepy doll with big plastic eyes. But things become scarier again when kids start to go missing from the entertainment park... There's another world exists beneath Krazytown's ball pit. A world where the entertainment park's games come to life. And if he isn't careful, Nathan is going to be the next one sucked under!
Lese-Probe zu „Frightmares “
Chapter 1This whole night sucks.
The second-to-last working bulb flickered in the cobwebbed chandelier, gave a final flare, and went dark, throwing the room into shadow. I stepped back and peered up at it, sucking air through my teeth as I knocked my hip against the antique dresser.
Josie Manning s eyes blinked open. She squinted into the gloom, peering through the lock of hair caught in her smeared eye makeup. The wrought-iron bed frame creaked as I leaned over her. She shifted, her breath catching in her bloodstained corset.
Hold still, I hissed, tightening the worn leather restraint around her goth-pale wrist. I d be lucky if it lasted through Sunday. This piece-of-shit buckle--
She opened her mouth to answer, then paused, listening. I heard it too--shrieks and clattering. Hurried footsteps, closer than they should be. Her finger tapped my knuckle: one, two, three. Ready or not.
She started screaming right before the curtain swung open.
It was reflex by now. The ax was in my grip, swinging an arc above her tear-streaked face. I brought it down hard on the clean sheet covering her legs, buried it in the mattress just below her knee. Blood welled and blossomed around the blade; the toes on her severed foot twitched, drawing gasps and laughter.
SEE? SEE WHAT YOU MADE ME DO? TRY TO RUN AWAY NOW. GO AHEAD, SEE HOW FAR YOU GET WITHOUT YOUR LEG.
Dude, that s messed up.
The voice--belonging to some douche in a Tapout tank shirt--sent a wave of giggles through the crowd. A bunch of high school kids, most around my age, most of them grinning and taking pictures. We d be all over the #FRIGHTMARES hashtag by midnight, swimming in well-deserved ridicule and emoji-driven mockery.
Thank God I look nothing like myself.
Josie screamed louder, pleading for help. I left the ax buried in the mattress and reached for the coiled bullwhip hanging on the wall above the bed.
... mehr
Even Tapout flinched at the first downswing. I cracked it again and again against her thighs, striping the sheets bloody. Striping the air with her broken wails.
The whip did most of the work. One more tweaked shoulder would derail my swim training, and I d have nothing to offer in the fall season but weak form and a shitty backstroke, so a half-assed performance it was. No way was I going to let a terrible summer job mess up my swimming scholarship. It wasn t an option.
The group eventually shuffled into the corridor, heading for the next scene. About a nanosecond after the door closed behind them, I was moving: smearing fresh F/X blood on the whip; coiling it and hanging it back on the wall; yanking the ax out of the mattress; ripping the stained sheet off Josie s legs and stuffing it in the basket under the bed next to her actual legs. Her torso sprouted from the cutout in the mattress, ramrod straight and prickly as a pissed-off cactus. I snapped a fresh sheet over her, tucking it around her waist to hide the hole, and repositioned the severed leg so it was even with the other prosthetic. The mechanical toes wriggled beneath the sheet like trapped mice.
You okay?
Well, Dave, she answered, I m starving and dehydrated, and my ass has been asleep for the past twenty minutes. Oh, and as I m sure you ve noticed, this corset is a size too small, and it s sapping my will to live. Other than that, I m great.
Shift s almost done. I adjusted the pillow behind her back and ran a comb through her bobbed black hair. One thing we d learned over the past five months on this set was it was way faster for me to do all this bullshit for her, rather than undoing the restraints so she could do it herself. You still good with the lipstick?
It s drying
The whip did most of the work. One more tweaked shoulder would derail my swim training, and I d have nothing to offer in the fall season but weak form and a shitty backstroke, so a half-assed performance it was. No way was I going to let a terrible summer job mess up my swimming scholarship. It wasn t an option.
The group eventually shuffled into the corridor, heading for the next scene. About a nanosecond after the door closed behind them, I was moving: smearing fresh F/X blood on the whip; coiling it and hanging it back on the wall; yanking the ax out of the mattress; ripping the stained sheet off Josie s legs and stuffing it in the basket under the bed next to her actual legs. Her torso sprouted from the cutout in the mattress, ramrod straight and prickly as a pissed-off cactus. I snapped a fresh sheet over her, tucking it around her waist to hide the hole, and repositioned the severed leg so it was even with the other prosthetic. The mechanical toes wriggled beneath the sheet like trapped mice.
You okay?
Well, Dave, she answered, I m starving and dehydrated, and my ass has been asleep for the past twenty minutes. Oh, and as I m sure you ve noticed, this corset is a size too small, and it s sapping my will to live. Other than that, I m great.
Shift s almost done. I adjusted the pillow behind her back and ran a comb through her bobbed black hair. One thing we d learned over the past five months on this set was it was way faster for me to do all this bullshit for her, rather than undoing the restraints so she could do it herself. You still good with the lipstick?
It s drying
... weniger
Autoren-Porträt von Eva V. Gibson
Eva V. Gibson
Produktdetails
- Autor: Eva V. Gibson
- Altersempfehlung: Ab 12 Jahre
- 2022, 288 Seiten, Maße: 13,9 x 20,8 cm, Kartoniert (TB), Englisch
- Verlag: Penguin Random House
- ISBN-10: 0593486870
- ISBN-13: 9780593486870
- Erscheinungsdatum: 25.07.2022
Sprache:
Englisch
Pressezitat
Praise for FRIGHTMARES: "Frightmares is YA horror at its best voicy, thrilling, and wholly unique. Gibson s quirky characters and whip-smart humor shine against the non-Disney-fied backdrop of Florida s seedy underbelly. A spine-chilling book you won t forget." Jennifer Moffett, author Those Who Prey
"[A] propulsive thriller." Kirkus
"Witty and fast-moving." Booklist
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