A tin of beans floating in the air is one thing. But a huge, gleaming, medieval sword?
And, if that wasn’t pant-wettingly scary enough, a weird metallic echo sounded through the air: the classic ghostly groan – Whoaaaaaaa! – that people use when something is creepy. Only this Whoaaaaaaa sounded more like Wherrrrrrrrrre—? It was as if someone was groaning into a can. An empty can of Sprite, in fact, which was floating not far from the sword Wherrrrrrrrrrrre—?
I watched in horror as the blade rose up through the air, and then screamed as it knocked the gun-controller from my hand. Wherrrrrrrrre—?
Then the noise cut off and both the Sprite can and the sword fell onto the coffee table, shattering the glass.
The crash was like a starting pistol (a strange starting pistol that made the sound of breaking glass instead of a gunshot, but there you go). I bolted from the room to fetch Mum.
But there was more weirdness waiting in the hallway. A clattering, clumping racket like someone was stomping in iron shoes all over the kitchen tiles.
No, not someone. An animal. It sounded like a horse.
It was the ghostly clatter of a ghostly horse’s ghostly hooves!
And it was also the straw that broke the camel’s back.
The combination of ghostly bean tins, phantom phones, spooky swords and now a zombie death-horse was finally enough to tip me over the edge from ‘fairly terrified’ into full-on ‘EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK-wibble-wobble-I-am-a-teapot’ mode.
In a blind panic, I ran to the front door.
I threw open the front door.
I sprinted from the house, into the night, down the winding drive.
I charged out into the road and kept running.
Until suddenly I skidded to a stop.
Because a Seerblight Solutions van was parked in front of me.
An empty Seerblight Solutions van.
Which meant that if Mr Butt had been inside the van, he was now out of it.
Three guesses where he must be headed. (Guess 1: Luxembourg? No. Guess 2: A transport café on the M4? No. Guess 3: My house? Yes! Oh, yes!)
Oh, no.
I hadn’t passed him on my way here, so he must’ve been hiding. Waiting for his chance to get inside . . .
And what doofus had just run out and left the front door wide open, leaving Mum alone in the basement?
(Guess 1: You got it. Me!)
“Mum!” I ran back the other way, as fast as I could go. What should I do? Phone the police? Yes – however crazy things sounded, they would have to help, right? That’s what I told myself. But when I got back, breathless, the front door was closed – and locked.
I felt sick. This isn’t happening! None of this can be happening! I banged on the door, but of course no one opened it. I thought I could hear someone shouting. “Mum?” I whumped the wood so hard I thought my fists might fall off. “Are you—?”
The latch rattled and the door suddenly swung open. Maybe the ghosts were back on my side? I didn’t much care; I just wanted to find my mum. The door to the basement was standing wide open. The strong light from the lab below sent struggling shadows dancing on the hall wall.
Mum was in trouble.
There was a loud crash and a man’s shout. It sounded like Mr Butt. Maybe he was the one in trouble? Mum used to do self-defence classes – until she got thrown out for excessive violence . . .
I knew I had to do something. I should’ve gone straight to the cordless phone in the living room. I should’ve called for help and then gone down to check on Mum.
Coulda, shoulda— Didn’t.
“MUMMMMM!!!” I ran down the stairs two at a time and charged into the lab. What an action hero!
An action hero stopped in his tracks by a dazzling red light that was being shone in his eyes.
“Noah, get out!” I heard Mum bellow. “This madman’s scanned you with the BRIAN™!”
Which isn’t something you hear every day. Blinded by the scan-light, I froze in panic. Should I dive for cover, or turn and try to get out before ‘this madman’ pulled the trigger?
Too late. My ears rang with the same heavy-duty ZAP I’d heard back in the kitchen. The BRIAN™ had been fired again!
This time, I was the target.
I fell over, but it was like I didn’t hit the floor.
It was as if my senses had switched off. I couldn’t see, hear, smell, taste or touch a single thing. The dark silence swamped me until—
“NOAHHHHHHHH!” I heard Mum sobbing. “You blasted him! He’s gone!”
“I’m not gone, Mum!” I blinked, wishing my sight would return along with my hearing. “I’m here!”
No one took any notice of me. “I needed to test your zapper, didn’t I?” Mr Butt snarled. “Now we know we’re not wasting the boss’s time.”
“Hey!” I tried again. “Right here! Hellooooooo?”
“Well, big congrats, Professor Deer,” Mr Butt went on. “All these years and no one else has come close to controlling the Salt of Igneous so well—”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Mum wailed, ignoring him. “Where are you?”
“I’m right in front of you!” Sitting up, dazed and dizzy, my sight was slowly returning. I could see Mum, blearily, and Mr Butt beside her clutching the BRIAN™ in one hand.
But there was something that I couldn’t see.
Something I couldn’t see at all – because it was no longer there.
ME.