Wanted by R. L. Stine Page B

mirror beside him. My face was green, the skin cracked and lined like lizard skin. My eyes were huge and bloodred. My two rows of fangs poked from my open mouth with drool running down my chin.
    â€œHelp me — please. Can you help me?”
    He didn’t say a word. He stood there staring hard at me. Studying my face. Studying the mask.
    After a long while, he raised his big hand and pointed at me. “Get out!” he boomed. “Get out of here! Out of my store — now! You’re evil! Evil! ”
    â€œNo, Mr. Wright,” I begged in my ugly, rasping voice. “It’s me — Lu-Ann.”
    â€œOut!” he screamed. He took a step toward me, still waving his finger in the air. “Out! Out of my store!”
    â€œBUT I NEED HELP!” I roared.
    My rage took over. I started grabbing masks off the wall and ripping them in half with my bare hands. I knocked over two racks of costumes. I smashed my fist through the glass display case.
    Mr. Wright came charging at me. He had his big arms spread wide to grab me. “Out! Out of here!”
    I had no choice. I leaped over the costumes I had spilled into the aisle. And I took off running. Back onto the street.
    Mr. Wright filled the doorway to the shop. He shook his fist at me. “Go away! Go away! I don’t want your evil near me.”
    â€œIt’s me!” I screamed. “Lu-Ann! Please — listen to me. Your son Marcus is my good friend. You know me. I am Lu-Ann. Really. Can’t you help me get this mask off?”
    I couldn’t see his face. He was a big shadow with the store light shining behind him. “Maybe you used to be Lu-Ann,” he shouted. “But now you are the Haunted Mask. And I know all about the evil you bring.”
    â€œNo. It’s still me!” I insisted. “I’m still Lu-Ann. Please, help me. How … how do I take this mask off?”
    â€œDo you really want me to tell you how to remove the Haunted Mask — or is this some kind of trick?”
    â€œNo. It’s not a trick,” I said. “Please tell me.” A gob of drool ran down my chin and spattered the pavement at my feet. “What do you know about this mask? How do I take it off?” I grunted. “Tell me how to take it off.” I tugged at the sides of my face, tugged the soft, warm, scaly green skin.
    He stood there for a long moment, arms crossed, blocking the doorway.
    â€œThe Haunted Mask cannot be taken off,” he said.

Can’t be taken off?
    I stared at him for a moment. Then I raised both fists above my head and let out a furious wail.
    He backed into his shop. “I’ve read a lot about the Haunted Mask. It was given to a shop owner named William. The day he got it, he and the mask disappeared and were never seen again. According to legend, the mask cannot be taken off — unless …”
    â€œUnless?” I croaked.
    â€œOnly an act of unbelievable kindness can remove it,” he said. “That’s all I know. Now go away. Go and take your evil with you.” He slammed the door to the shop.
    â€œKindness? You want kindness?” I cried. “I’ll show you kindness.”
    I picked up a big stone from the street and heaved it at his shop door. It made a loud thunk , then bounced off.
    Then I ran down the row of darkened shops, breaking windows, laughing like a crazed hyena … laughing … laughing and shattering glass … running full speed down the empty street.
    I was a prisoner of the Haunted Mask, a prisoner of its evil.
    But under all the anger and rage, I was still Lu-Ann. Still frightened, terrified Lu-Ann.
    What’s going to happen to me? I wondered. How evil am I going to get?
    I couldn’t stop. I smashed the window of the last store on the block and kept running. A burglar alarm clanged in one of the stores. And somewhere in the distance, I heard a siren approaching.
    I darted across the street and ran into the