Locker 13 by R.L. Stine

charm,” I whispered.
    I set it down carefully on my dresser, in front of the mirror. Then I turned out the lights and climbed into bed.
    I settled back on my pillows, pulling the quilt up to my chin. I yawned loudly. The mattress creaked under me. Waiting for sleep, I stared into the darkness.
    The curtains were pulled, so no light washed in from the street. The room was completely black, except for a faint red glow.
    The glow of the two red eyes in the skull. Like tiny match flames against the blackness.
    And then I saw two more glowing spots of red light. Larger. Behind the tiny skull eyes.
    Two circles of light in the mirror glass. Two flame-red circles, the size of tennis balls.
    And as their light grew brighter, more intense … I could see a form in the dresser mirror.
    Deep nostril holes … two rows of jagged, grinning teeth.
    A skull. A red-eyed skull.
    Not tiny. A huge, grinning, yellow-boned skull that filled the mirror!
    Filled the mirror! And stared out at me with those fiery, flame-red eyes.
    I sat straight up. Squeezed the quilt. And gaped in horror as the jagged teeth moved. The jaw slid open.
    And the enormous skull mouthed the words … mouthed them so clearly …
    â€œ Lucky Luke .”

 

    The giant, glowing skull leaned forward, as if to push out of the mirror. The jaw worked up and down. The red glow seemed to bathe the whole room in flames.
    I opened my mouth in a horrified scream.
    I screamed and then screamed again.
    The ceiling light flashed on.
    â€œLuke—what’s wrong?”
    Blinking in the sudden light, I saw my dad burst breathlessly into the room. His pajama shirt was twisted. One pajama pants leg rode up to his knee. His hair was tangled from sleep, standing straight up on one side.
    â€œWhat is it?” he repeated.
    â€œI—I—” I pointed to the mirror. My head spun with confusion. I couldn’t find words.
    â€œThe skull—” I finally choked out.
    Brushing back his hair, Dad crossed the room to my dresser.
    I stared into the glass.
    Nothing now.
    Nothing in there, except the reflection of my room. As he came near, I could see Dad’s worried face reflected in the glass.
    â€œIs this what you were screaming about?” Dad asked. He picked up the little yellow skull and held it out to me. “This skull?”
    â€œN-no,” I stammered.
    I was thinking hard, trying to figure out what I had seen.
    It couldn’t have been the reflection of the little skull I saw in the glass.
    No.
    The skull that loomed in the mirror was enormous, its eyes as big as basketballs!
    Dad still squinted at me from the dresser, holding the little skull up in front of him.
    â€œI guess I had a bad dream,” I said softly, settling back onto my pillows. “It—it was so weird. I dreamed I saw a giant skull with flaming eyes. But … it was so real!”
    Dad shook his head. “Well … if this little skull is giving you bad dreams, want me to take it away?” He started to the door.
    â€œNo!” I screamed.
    I jumped out of bed to block his path. He looked startled as I grabbed the skull from his hand.
    â€œIt’s … it’s a good-luck charm,” I said. “It’s brought me a lot of good luck.”
    Dad frowned as he gazed at the little skull in my hand. “You sure, Luke? It doesn’t look good to me. It looks evil.”
    â€œEvil?” I laughed. “No way, Dad. No way. Trust me.”
    He clicked off the light on his way out. A short while later, I fell asleep gripping the skull tightly in one hand.
    A few days later I screamed my head off again.

 

    This time it was for fun.
    A bunch of us were on our skates up on Killer Hill. It’s actually Miller Hill. But we call it Killer Hill because it’s up at the top where Broad Street scoops straight down—a steep, steep slope down three blocks to Miller Street.
    Miller Street has the most traffic in Shawnee Valley.