it’s at home?” Paradise asked.
With some difficulty, Ben knelt down and reached under his bed.
He pulled out a heavy hardback book and held it up for the others to see.
Paradise rolled her eyes.“Here we go again,” she muttered.
“I found it in here,” Ben said, flipping through the pages of Who’s Who, What’s What and Why They Do Such Horrible Things to One Another.
Wesley had given him the book soon after they’d first met. It was written by legendary monster-hunter Lunt Bingwood, who had mysteriously vanished shortly after he’d completed it. The book contained details of pretty much every monster and weird creature that had ever existed, along with helpful diagrams of the best places to kick them should the need ever arise.
Ben had had the book for just over six months and had read it from cover to cover more than a dozen times. He’d spent dayscombing through all the entries trying to find the perfect costume for the Feast of Scarrabus.
When he’d read about the Moon-Faced Ghoul-Thing he’d felt a flutter of excitement in his chest and knew he’d found the perfect outfit.
“Here it is,” Ben announced.
He pointed to a creepy black-and-white drawing on one of the book’s yellowing pages. The picture showed a tall, skinny creature with a round face and large bulging eyes. It wore a robe almost exactly like Ben’s, but instead of tree branches it had six spider-like legs creeping out from within the cloak’s dark folds.
“The Moon-Faced Ghoul-Thing,” said Ben, his voice a low whisper. “Even Lunt Bingwoodnever saw one of these. According to legend it’s the servant of Lord Scarrabus.”
“I thought everyone knew this story,” said Wesley. “When children don’t respect the traditions of the Feast of Scarrabus, the Moon-Faced Ghoul-Thing snatches them away.”
Paradise raised an eyebrow. “You mean like the tradition of dressing as something scary?”
Wesley glanced down at his butterfly costume. His face turned almost as white as Ben’s. “I’m sure it wouldn’t come for a silly thing like that. Would it?”
“Of course not, moths-for-brains,” Paradise said. “The whole thing’s a legend. It’s just an excuse for people to get free sweets. There’s no such thing as a Moon-Faced Whatchama-call-it.”
From downstairs there came a series of soft chimes. Ben closed the book and slipped it back beneath his bed.
“Nine o’clock,” he said, standing up and straightening his stick-arms. “You two ready?”
Paradise adjusted her pointy hat. “Let’s get it over with.”
Taking a steadying breath, Wesley smoothed down the wrinkles of his butterfly bodysuit. “Right then,” he said, his voice coming out as a croaky whisper. “Let the Feast of Scarrabus begin.”
Chapter Two
The Moon-Faced Ghoul-Thing, the witch and the bobble-hatted butterfly stepped out on to the darkened main street of the village of Lump. None of the lamps had been lit and it was only thanks to the faint moonlight that the children were able to see anything at all.
“Everyone got their bags?” Paradise asked.
Ben and Wesley held up two bulging cloth sacks and gave them a shake. “Got them.”
They strolled towards the closest house. Shapes moved somewhere along the street – other children out for Scarrabus’s feast, no doubt.
“I’ve worked out the best route so we can getthis done quickly,” Paradise said. “The sooner we can get finished, the sooner we can all go home.”
“Why the rush?” asked Ben, swinging his bag back and forth as he walked. “This is the first interesting thing to happen around here in months. The Feast of Scarrabus is supposed to be fun.”
Wesley whimpered. “Fun?” he said. “Trudging around in the dark, surrounded by monsters?”
“Kids dressed as monsters,” Ben pointed out.
“It’s the same thing!” Wesley yelped. “I mean, no, obviously it isn’t the same thing,” he admitted. “But it’s still pretty scary.”
They reached the
With some difficulty, Ben knelt down and reached under his bed.
He pulled out a heavy hardback book and held it up for the others to see.
Paradise rolled her eyes.“Here we go again,” she muttered.
“I found it in here,” Ben said, flipping through the pages of Who’s Who, What’s What and Why They Do Such Horrible Things to One Another.
Wesley had given him the book soon after they’d first met. It was written by legendary monster-hunter Lunt Bingwood, who had mysteriously vanished shortly after he’d completed it. The book contained details of pretty much every monster and weird creature that had ever existed, along with helpful diagrams of the best places to kick them should the need ever arise.
Ben had had the book for just over six months and had read it from cover to cover more than a dozen times. He’d spent dayscombing through all the entries trying to find the perfect costume for the Feast of Scarrabus.
When he’d read about the Moon-Faced Ghoul-Thing he’d felt a flutter of excitement in his chest and knew he’d found the perfect outfit.
“Here it is,” Ben announced.
He pointed to a creepy black-and-white drawing on one of the book’s yellowing pages. The picture showed a tall, skinny creature with a round face and large bulging eyes. It wore a robe almost exactly like Ben’s, but instead of tree branches it had six spider-like legs creeping out from within the cloak’s dark folds.
“The Moon-Faced Ghoul-Thing,” said Ben, his voice a low whisper. “Even Lunt Bingwoodnever saw one of these. According to legend it’s the servant of Lord Scarrabus.”
“I thought everyone knew this story,” said Wesley. “When children don’t respect the traditions of the Feast of Scarrabus, the Moon-Faced Ghoul-Thing snatches them away.”
Paradise raised an eyebrow. “You mean like the tradition of dressing as something scary?”
Wesley glanced down at his butterfly costume. His face turned almost as white as Ben’s. “I’m sure it wouldn’t come for a silly thing like that. Would it?”
“Of course not, moths-for-brains,” Paradise said. “The whole thing’s a legend. It’s just an excuse for people to get free sweets. There’s no such thing as a Moon-Faced Whatchama-call-it.”
From downstairs there came a series of soft chimes. Ben closed the book and slipped it back beneath his bed.
“Nine o’clock,” he said, standing up and straightening his stick-arms. “You two ready?”
Paradise adjusted her pointy hat. “Let’s get it over with.”
Taking a steadying breath, Wesley smoothed down the wrinkles of his butterfly bodysuit. “Right then,” he said, his voice coming out as a croaky whisper. “Let the Feast of Scarrabus begin.”
Chapter Two
The Moon-Faced Ghoul-Thing, the witch and the bobble-hatted butterfly stepped out on to the darkened main street of the village of Lump. None of the lamps had been lit and it was only thanks to the faint moonlight that the children were able to see anything at all.
“Everyone got their bags?” Paradise asked.
Ben and Wesley held up two bulging cloth sacks and gave them a shake. “Got them.”
They strolled towards the closest house. Shapes moved somewhere along the street – other children out for Scarrabus’s feast, no doubt.
“I’ve worked out the best route so we can getthis done quickly,” Paradise said. “The sooner we can get finished, the sooner we can all go home.”
“Why the rush?” asked Ben, swinging his bag back and forth as he walked. “This is the first interesting thing to happen around here in months. The Feast of Scarrabus is supposed to be fun.”
Wesley whimpered. “Fun?” he said. “Trudging around in the dark, surrounded by monsters?”
“Kids dressed as monsters,” Ben pointed out.
“It’s the same thing!” Wesley yelped. “I mean, no, obviously it isn’t the same thing,” he admitted. “But it’s still pretty scary.”
They reached the
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