The Northern Frights Read online

  Dedication

  To my family

  (both living and ghosts)—

  Bingo, Mom, Dad,

  the Emersons, the Rosses,

  and my grandparents

  Contents

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Re-reintroduction

  One

  Vacation Is Over

  Two

  Charles Nukid’s Worst Day Ever

  Three

  Ninjas Never Laugh

  Four

  The World’s Scariest Teacher

  Five

  The Snowman Cometh

  Six

  The Deadly Loogie

  Seven

  Fred’s Silver Hammer

  Eight

  The Unfortunate Six

  Nine

  Into the Wolf’s Mouth

  Ten

  Riddle of the Yeti

  Eleven

  The Creature in the Ice

  Twelve

  Sleeping with Spiders

  Thirteen

  Rory, the Monster Who Couldn’t Roar

  Fourteen

  Swimming with Sharks

  Fifteen

  The Witches’ Brew

  Sixteen

  Lattie and the Trampoline

  Seventeen

  Severed Head of the Class

  Eighteen

  The Cavern of Cadavers

  Nineteen

  The Sword of Fire

  Twenty

  Just Winging It

  Twenty-one

  A Good Day to Die

  Twenty-two

  The Last Meal

  Twenty-three

  There’s No Place Like Scary School

  Final Note from Derek the Ghost

  About the Author and Illustrator

  Back Ad

  Also by Derek the Ghost

  Credits

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Epigraph

  Caveat discipulus

  Re-reintroduction

  Hello, brave readers! It is I, your humble narrator, Derek the Ghost. You know, the kid who kicked the bucket when a science experiment went terribly wrong in Mr. Acidbath’s class. It was no biggie. I turned into a ghost and still had to go to school the next day.

  Thank you for joining me on your third visit to Scary School. Because you’ve been so loyal, I think it’s safe to say that we’re good friends now. And if you’re reading this book without having read the first two, I’m sure we’ll be buddies by the time you’re finished.

  I know I usually start these introductions with something fun and silly. But now, there’s simply no time for that. You see, a group of Scary School students was chosen to spend a week at Scream Academy—the scariest scary school in the world. Rather than hang out at Scary School, I decided to follow them and see what it was like there. Let me tell you, not even I was ready for how terrifying it was!

  And when an eleven-year-old ghost like me gets scared out of his wits, you know you’re in for some spectacular frights.

  Normally, I would wish you good luck in surviving your time at Scary School, but this time, I think the poor Scary School students who were chosen to visit Scream Academy could use it more, so why don’t you join me in wishing them good luck?

  Ready? One . . . two . . . three. . . . Good luck!

  1

  Vacation Is Over

  Petunia walked into Dungeon 5B five minutes before class started on the first day of school after winter break. She breathed a sigh of relief that the rest of her sixth-grade classmates were already in their seats. On the first day of school after summer break, her classroom had been empty, which led to a very scary rescue in Jacqueline’s haunted house. She had no desire to go back there.

  Frank (which is pronounced “Rachel”) was fixing her brown, frizzy hair when Petunia entered. Frank jumped up out of her seat to hug her but recoiled when she saw that Petunia’s long purple hair was once again swarming with bees. So they high-fived from a safe distance.

  “Hi, Petunia! I missed you so much! Did you get any good presents for the holidays?”

  “Just some new books,” Petunia replied.

  “I got a new jump rope that has an automatic counter. I got up to sixteen million jumps by New Year’s Eve. Using Monster Math that’s like—”

  “Fifty-five trillion jumps,” a voice answered.

  Petunia and Frank turned around to see a girl wearing all black.

  “Oh, hey,” said Petunia. “You must be new. I’m Petunia. What’s your name?”

  “My name is swiftness. My name is stealth. I will know these like I know my name,” the girl in black replied in a deadly serious tone.

  Petunia and Frank looked at each other and shrugged.

  “Oookay,” said Frank. “How do you know Monster Math?”

  “My master was the greatest monster mathematician who ever lived. An evil dragon the size of a mountain took him from me. Have you seen this dragon?”

  Petunia and Frank looked at each other again.

  “Umm . . . no,” they replied.

  The girl in black squinted her eyes. Then she asked, “Is this the class of the one called King Khufu?”

  Petunia replied, “No, that’s the other sixth-grade class.”

  In a blink, the girl in black vanished. Don’t worry; there will be much more about her very soon.

  As Petunia took her seat, she looked around the room. As usual, Penny Possum was sitting in the back corner, trying to go unnoticed. Fritz was wearing his swim goggles and swim trunks, hoping he would get to take a dip in Scary Pool.

  Petunia waved to Jason, who wore his hockey mask and kept his chainsaw stowed inside his desk. She waved to Johnny, who was nibbling at an itch on his furry Sasquatch foot.

  Neither boy waved back to Petunia.

  They didn’t intend to be mean. They were just scared that it might incite the bees swarming around Petunia’s head to attack. They nodded back ever so slightly, noticing Petunia’s long purple hair draping down her purple shoulders and over her purple dress.

  Petunia liked purple. A lot. But since she was completely purple from head to foot, she didn’t really have much choice.

  Fred, the boy without fear, strolled down the aisle, cool and relaxed, wearing his baggy jeans and backward cap.

  Petunia noticed Lindsey, Stephanie, and Maria looking at Fred dreamily and felt a twinge of . . . something. She couldn’t quite label it. Fred stopped by Johnny’s desk and helped him scratch the itch with his long sharpened fingernails.

  “Aaaah,” said Johnny, relieved. “Thanks!”

  “Ha,” laughed Fred. “There’s definitely no such thing as a talking Sasquatch. Looks like I’m still dreaming.”

  Yep, everything seemed back to normal, as if King Zog’s attack on the school just a few weeks ago was a distant memory.

  Suddenly, a stomping from outside shook the room. It was the warning that their teacher, Mr. Grump, was approaching. Petunia hoped his memory had improved enough over the break that he would at least remember he was the teacher.

  As Mr. Grump stomped into the room, everyone rushed to their seats. He was a very nice teacher, but the class knew that if a lagoon creature with the head of an elephant got angry, he’d have no problem charging at them, tusks first.

  Mr. Grump seemed puzzled as he looked at the students. No surprise there. Puzzled was the most common expression on his face. He looked at a piece of paper in his hand. Then he looked back at the students. It was obvious he had no idea who or where he was. Then he stomped down the aisle and took a seat at one of the open desks. The chair was way too small for him and it shattered into a thousand pieces as soon as he sat on it.

  “O
uch!” said Mr. Grump. “I have splinters in my bottom.”

  Petunia rolled her eyes and went over to help him up. She was the only student who he could consistently remember.

  “Hello, Petunia,” said Mr. Grump with a smile.

  “Hi, Mr. Grump. You shouldn’t be sitting there. You’re the teacher. Remember?”

  “No, I don’t think so,” Mr. Grump replied. “Look.”

  Mr. Grump handed Petunia the piece of paper.

  “What does it say?” asked Wendy Crumkin, the smartest girl in class. She brushed back her red hair and pushed up her glasses over her freckled nose.

  Petunia responded, “It’s a note from Principal Headcrusher. It says, ‘Dear Mr. Grump. It has come to my attention that you know absolutely nothing and are therefore not qualified to be a teacher at this school. However, you are welcome to join your class as a student. As soon as you know something instead of nothing, I will consider rehiring you. Yours truly, Principal Meredith Headcrusher.’”

  Ramon, the zombie kid, blurted, “But . . . if he’s not the teacher, then who—” Ramon’s zombie jaw fell off his face in the middle of his sentence. He quickly scooped it off the ground and reattached it. “Sorry. As I was saying . . . then who is the teacher?”

  The clock struck eight a.m., and a cackling was heard from outside the door. “Heh-heh-heh-heh-heh!”

  The students looked at one another and gulped. The identity of their teacher was going to be a surprise, and nobody liked surprises at Scary School. If you were the recipient of a surprise, the bigger surprise would be if you still had all your arms and legs a moment later.

  Suddenly, the door was kicked open, and an old man wearing a long white lab coat stumbled into the classroom. In his arms he carried dozens of beakers and jars full of colorful bubbling chemicals.

  The beakers and jars were piled so high they nearly touched the ceiling. They wobbled back and forth and looked like they were about to come crashing down at any moment.

  The items were blocking the teacher’s face, so nobody could tell who it was. But then the teacher set the beakers down on his desk and emerged from behind them.

  “Hello, class!” exclaimed the teacher in a high-pitched, maniacal voice. “I’m baaaack!”

  The entire class screamed at the same time. Penny Possum fell to the ground and played dead.

  It was Mr. Acidbath.

  2

  Charles Nukid’s Worst Day Ever

  At the same time Petunia’s class was screaming at the sight of Mr. Acidbath, Charles Nukid was sitting in King Khufu’s classroom with his head buried in his arms, wiping away tears with his polka-dot tie. As usual, he was the only student wearing the uniform of gray shorts, a white dress shirt, and that ridiculous tie.

  Ever since he and Penny Possum had begun their friendship by giving each other a piece of candy every day, they had met each morning at the front entrance of the school to throw a crab into the moat for Archie the Giant Squid.

  Today, Charles had waited for Penny as long as he could, but she never showed. Charles thought she might be out sick, but then he saw her slipping into her classroom before the morning bell. She must have taken one of the secret entrances to avoid him.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened the day before, which was undoubtedly the worst day of his life.

  Yesterday morning, he called Penny on the phone and said, “Hey, Penny, if you’re free today, do you want to go sledding?”

  Penny didn’t answer him and Charles smiled. That, of course, meant yes. Penny hardly ever spoke, but when she needed to say no, she said no.

  “Okay, then,” Charles responded. “I’ll meet you at noon.”

  “(Silence),” Penny replied.

  “Oh, okay, one o’clock at Goblin Hill?”

  “(Silence).”

  “I’m looking forward to it, too. Good-bye!”

  Charles had gotten very good at interpreting Penny’s silences. He was so excited that when he hung up the phone, he started jumping for joy on his bed. Then he remembered that jumping on his bed was against the rules. He hopped off, fixed the bedding, and gave himself a five-minute time-out.

  The sun was shining brightly in the sky. Charles’s amazing luck seemed to be continuing. After miraculously leading the students of Scary School to victory over ten thousand monsters the day before winter break, he had become the school hero. And now he was going to celebrate the New Year with his best friend, Penny. If he was lucky, maybe he’d even get a hug at the end of the day.

  Penny reached the peak of Goblin Hill at precisely one o’clock. Charles was already waiting for her, holding two cups of hot cocoa and a picnic basket full of goodies. She was wearing a brand-new yellow sweater that she had just gotten for Christmas. Charles thought she looked like a sunrise coming over the hill.

  A band of goblins was standing behind Charles. Each one was holding a different instrument—there was a flautist goblin, a guitarist goblin, a drummer goblin, and a triangle goblin.

  When the band saw Penny, they quickly broke into song on Charles’s cue, but, as usual, they had not bothered to rehearse and were playing all the wrong notes. Goblins are terrible musicians, but that never seems to stop them.

  Charles and Penny sat on their sleds atop the hill, sipping the hot cocoa and admiring the breathtaking view. They could see all of Scary School, which looked not-quite-as-deadly in its peaceful state during winter break. They could see the rustling trees of Scary Forest, the murky depths of Scary Pool, and the screaming face of Petrified Pavilion.

  After finishing the cocoa, Penny pulled a box out of her jacket. On the label it read POSSUM’S HOT PEPPERS. She poured a bunch of green, red, and orange peppers into Charles’s hands. A fly landed on one of the orange peppers and exploded. Charles gulped.

  Penny took a green pepper and popped it in her mouth. She encouraged Charles to do the same. Charles had never tasted a hot pepper before, and he was kind of scared. But since Penny’s family grew the peppers, he didn’t want to insult her.

  They bit down on the green peppers together. It felt like fireworks were going off inside Charles’s mouth. But after a few moments the heat went away, and it actually tasted pretty good.

  “I like it!” said Charles, his eyes watering from the heat. Penny looked impressed.

  Next, Charles reached for one of the orange peppers. Penny quickly grabbed his hand and shook her head. Charles didn’t like Penny thinking he wasn’t tough enough to eat a tiny little pepper.

  “Don’t worry,” said Charles. “I can totally handle it.”

  Penny gave him one last look that seemed to say, “Are you sure about this?”

  Penny let go of his hand. Charles reached for the orange pepper. The skin of the pepper was sweating. Steam rose from the stem. If it could talk, it would be screaming, “Don’t eat me!”

  Charles slowly put the pepper between his teeth and bit down.

  He put on a brave face and tried to smile through the blazing inferno that had just exploded in his mouth. His tongue felt like he had licked a pool of lava. Tears were streaming down his face like rain on a windowpane.

  Penny saw that he was not a happy camper, but she was amazed he was holding himself together.

  Thinking the worst was over, Charles swallowed it down in one gulp, but without the saliva to keep his mouth cool, the heat suddenly intensified fifty times. The world became blurry, and Charles couldn’t hold back any longer. He screamed, “AAAAIIIIEEEEE!” and he ran around in circles hoping the wind might cool his mouth. It didn’t.

  Penny was cracking up.

  “Water!” Charles begged.

  Penny pointed to a patch of snow nearby.

  Charles scooped up the snow and shoveled it into his mouth. But instead of helping, the snow spread the heat all over his insides. Penny fell over in silent laughter. Charles then remembered that there’s just one thing that cools down spicy food.

  “Milk!” screamed Charles, jumping up and down and spinning i
n circles.

  Penny shrugged her shoulders. She didn’t have any.

  Charles realized he had only one option to extinguish the blaze.

  He reached into his picnic basket and pulled out a banana whipped cream pie. The white foam resting on top of the creamy filling looked like an oasis.

  Penny’s jaw dropped when she realized what Charles was about to do. Charles didn’t waste another moment. He smashed the pie straight into his own face.

  Charles inhaled the creamy foam, and the cooling relief was immediate. He kept the pie on his face for almost a minute, basking in the frosty frosting until he had to come out for air.

  His face was covered in the white foam, but he could still hear Penny’s muffled giggles. He realized how silly he must look and started laughing along with her.

  But then Penny’s laugh changed from a girlish “hee-hee-hee” to a monstrous “har-har-har!”

  Charles wiped the pie off his face and noticed with horror that a seventh-grade troll—the captain of the Scary School football team—was holding Penny over his head.

  “Come get your girlfriend!” mocked the troll.

  “She’s not my girlfriend, Lebok,” said Charles, “but put her down anyway!”

  “Or else what?” laughed Lebok. “What you gonna do?”

  Another seventh-grade troll named Padlox stomped up behind Charles and barked, “Me and Lebok need hill to throw football. You two go bye-byes.”

  “No,” said Charles. “I reserved the hill for today. Ask the goblins.”

  Padlox retorted, “Goblins? What they do? Sing me to death?”

  “Hey!” shouted the goblins, a little insulted.

  Charles sighed and lowered his head. There was nothing he could do. The trolls were as big as gorillas and twice as strong. If they wanted the hill, it was theirs.

  “Fine,” said Charles. “We’ll leave. Just put her down.”

  “Wise choice, human.”

  Lebok put Penny down on the blanket, but she was not ready to give up. Fuming mad, she shouted “No!” at the trolls, thinking her booming voice could knock them out. But the trolls were like trees and hardly budged. Then she charged at Lebok and started pounding him with her fists. It was like hitting a brick wall.