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    The Nightmare Room #7: The Howler
    The Nightmare Room #7: The Howler
    The Nightmare Room #7: The Howler
    Ebook125 pages2 hours

    The Nightmare Room #7: The Howler

    By R. L. Stine

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    You hold in your hand the key to a shadow world of shivers and screams. Take a step away from the safe, comfortable world you know. Unlock the door to terror. There's always room for one more in...The Nightmare Room.

    Spencer Turner is a major electronics geek, and he's just purchased a cool new gadget called The Howler. It's supposed to allow Spencer to pick up the howls of ghosts and spirits. Spencer would love to communicate with the spirit world. He can't wait to see if it works. Unfortunately, Spencer soon hears his own howls of horror -- because when he turns on The Howler, he opens a channel to The Nightmare Room.

    What will you find in The Nightmare Room next time? Check out book 8: Shadow Girl.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherHarperCollins
    Release dateAug 25, 2009
    ISBN9780061904530
    The Nightmare Room #7: The Howler
    Author

    R. L. Stine

    R.L. Stine has more than 350 million English language books in print, plus international editions in 32 languages, making him one of the most popular children’s authors in history. Besides Goosebumps, R.L. Stine has written other series, including Fear Street, Rotten School, Mostly Ghostly, The Nightmare Room, and Dangerous Girls. R.L. Stine lives in New York with his wife, Jane, and his Cavalier King Charles spaniel, Minnie. Visit him online at rlstine.com.

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    Reviews for The Nightmare Room #7

    3.5/5

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    • 2/5
      This is the fourth in the Nightmare Room Series and in this volume we meet Ross Arthur who has a bit of a problem with the truth...telling it, that is. Ross can't seem to stop himself from telling lies...and they aren't little one's either, he finds himself instinctually telling huge whoppers for no reason at all. It's not until he lies and winds up inviting two girls to the same party that this becomes a very real problem for him. Upon discovering his deception, the girls push him into the pool and after almost drowning, Ross finds himself in a place that is very familiar, yet different in subtle but important ways and where he seems to have a destructive touch that goes beyond a few lies. Will Ross be able to find his way home...to his REAL home or will he be doomed to disappear forever? You'll have to read to find out. I have to say that this was my least favorite of all this series so far. While the premise is interesting, it's not really horror to my way of thinking, It's more of a Sci-Fi/Thriller type story...with the exception of a bit of gore when Ross touches the boy on the street, there isn't really any true horrific elements to Liar, Liar. Also, I don't really identify with the main character at all. I mean sure, we've all told a lie...sometimes for not reason other than it seemed like a good idea at the time, but the main character is just a self-absorbed jerk who can't seem to see he has a great life and seems determined to continue to lie in self-serving and unnecessary ways. Additionally, while twisted and appropriate, I think, the ending was entirely predictable and has been seen before in this authors work. Overall, I give it a C+, its ok, but not good and miles away from great.

    Book preview

    The Nightmare Room #7 - R. L. Stine

    1

    Do you believe in ghosts?

    I didn’t believe in them for most of my life. But ever since last winter, I want to believe.

    It’s my dream, my most important wish. I think about it every day.

    I want to see a ghost. I want to talk to a ghost.

    The ghost’s name is Ian.

    I remember every detail of that frosty cold day last December. The snow was deep, and it had a crust on top that crunched when we walked on it.

    The sun hung low over the trees. It made the snow gleam like a sheet of silver. Snow clung to the branches of the evergreen trees, and the hedges were topped with blankets of white.

    I remember the frozen air burning my cheeks. The fat, puffy clouds floating like snowmen high in the bright sky.

    We carried our skates to Wellman Lake, a block from my house. It’s not really a lake. It’s only a pond.

    My friend Vanessa was there. We teased her about her pink snowsuit. Such a babyish color. She didn’t care. She said it was made with real goose down and kept her very warm.

    I remember Vanessa’s red hair glowing in the sunlight. And the reflection of the snow in her green eyes.

    Scott came along too. Chubby, red-faced Scott, with his black hair wild about his head like a furry hat.

    He lives in the run-down old house next door to mine. He was bragging about his new CD player, and kicking snow on us, and telling dumb jokes.

    Typical Scott.

    I didn’t invite Scott to join us. I don’t like him very much. Neither does Vanessa.

    He’s so loud, and always bragging. And he always wants to pick fights and make bets about stupid things no one else cares about.

    I think Scott has a special radar. Or else he spies on my house all day. Because whenever I go out, there he is. He comes running from his house, ready to join in.

    So there were four of us that day. My cousin Ian was the fourth. His family was staying with us for a few days before going on to Florida for Christmas.

    I was happy to see him. Ian was my age, thirteen. And even though we didn’t see each other very often, we always got along really well. We were like brothers.

    Yes, I already have a brother. Big Jerk Nick.

    Nick is three years older than me. And he treats me like an insect he wants to squash under his shoe.

    Nick says that in every family, the big brother is the boss and the little brother is the slave. It sounds stupid, but Nick really believes it.

    So, it’s Spencer, go to the kitchen and make me a sandwich. And Spencer, I have to go out. Type this homework into the computer for me.

    Spencer, bring me a Coke. Spencer, go see who’s at the door. Spencer, get a move on!

    Nick is a lot bigger than me. And he works out. And he’s on the wrestling team at school. So I try very hard to stay out of his way.

    And that’s one reason I liked to think of Ian as a brother.

    And now, just about every day, I remember Ian walking with us to the lake. His boots crunched on the crusty snow. And the ice skates I found for him bounced on the shoulders of his down vest as we trudged up the hill on Marlowe Street.

    Ian looked a lot like me. Dark brown hair. Brown eyes. Serious face. Average height. Kind of skinny.

    He had a lot of energy. He was always bouncing up and down and drumming his fingers on things. He couldn’t stand or sit still for a minute.

    I remember we were passing the low stone wall in front of the Faulkners’ house. The top of the wall was iced up. Vanessa, Scott, and I started to walk beside it.

    But Ian leaped onto the top of the wall. He did a crazy balancing act, slipping and sliding. His arms waved wildly above his head.

    We screamed at him to jump down. But he only laughed. He was still laughing when he fell off. Luckily, he fell onto his back in a soft clump of snow-covered bushes.

    Luckily.

    Thinking about it now makes me feel really sad.

    I guess that was the only lucky thing that happened that day.

    2

    I remember the gray-white ice that covered the lake—so smooth and glassy. Several cawing black birds took off from the ice when they saw us coming.

    A clump of snow fell off an evergreen branch and shattered over the ice. I remember the soft thud it made.

    So many sounds I remember from that day. Some of them so horrifying, I want to hold my ears and shut them out forever.

    We hurried to pull on our skates. Scott insisted on making us all take off our gloves and run our fingers over the blades on his new skates. He said they were made of titanium, which made them stronger and faster than any other ice skates.

    Ian had trouble with a knot in his laces. The skates weren’t his. They were a pair that Nick couldn’t wear anymore. So they didn’t fit Ian that well.

    Vanessa helped him with the knot. Then she was the first one onto the ice.

    Vanessa is a very graceful skater. She skates like a pro. She’s a natural athlete. She’s a forward on the girls’ basketball team at school. And she does track.

    But she says she’s not really into sports. She would rather stay in the studio her parents made for her in their garage and paint. She wants to be an artist someday.

    I watched Ian go slipping and sliding onto the lake. His legs were wobbling like crazy, and he went down laughing, skidding on his stomach. These skates won’t work, Spencer, he called to me. I can’t lace them tight enough.

    Have you ever ice-skated before? I called.

    He laughed again. Not really!

    He pulled down his wool ski cap. And then he was on his feet and skating unsteadily toward Vanessa. She grabbed his hand and guided him slowly over the ice.

    Soon, all four of us were skating. I leaned into the wind, my face burning from the cold. I pressed my gloved hands on my knees and moved beside Vanessa and Ian.

    We were all gliding easily now. It felt so great. The frozen lake shimmered beneath us. The cold air smelled fresh and sweet. The fat white clouds were so pretty against the sky.

    We need music, Scott declared. He was skating backward, doing fast loops, showing off as usual.

    None of us had brought a radio. So we started to sing. We sang some songs we knew from the radio and skated along to them. We were singing and laughing at the same time.

    When did it all go wrong?

    I guess it started when Scott swiped Ian’s wool cap off his head. Keep away! he shouted, tossing the cap to me.

    I missed it and it slid across the ice. Ian and I both swooped toward it. But I came up with it and heaved it to Vanessa.

    Hey—give it back! Ian shouted. His face was bright red from the cold. His dark hair was wet and matted to his forehead.

    He made a wild grab for the cap. Laughing, Vanessa

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