More Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark: Collected and Retold from Folklore by Alvin Schwartz, Stephen Gammell

From the Publisher

All those who enjoyed shuddering their way through Alvin Schwartz's first volume of Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark will find a satisfyingly spooky sequel in this new collection of the macabre, the funny, and the fantastic.

Is it possible to die — and not know it? What if a person is buried too soon? What happens to a thief foolish enough to rob a corpse, or to a murderer whose victim returns from the grave? Read about these terrifying predicaments as well as what happens when practical jokes produce gruesome consequences and initiations go awry.

Stephen Gammell's splendidly creepy drawings perfectly capture the mood of more than two dozen scary stories — and even a scary song — all just right for reading alone or for telling aloud in the dark.

Horn Book

Brief, bloodcurdling tales of ghosts, murders, graveyards, and other horrors, greatly enhanced by the ghoulish illustrations.

Details from Seller

• ISBN: 0064401774
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
• Pub. Date: September 1986
• Condition:

Comments from the Seller: Well-worn copy. Book is ACCEPTABLE with noted wear to cover and pages. Binding intact. May contain highlighting, inscriptions or notations. We offer a no-hassle guarantee on all our items. Orders generally ship by the next business day. Default Text

• Read an Excerpt

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One

Something Was Wrong

One morning John Sullivan found himself walking along a street downtown. He could not explain what he was doing there, or how he got there, or where he had been earlier. He didn't even know what time it was.

He saw a woman walking toward him and stopped her. "I'm afraid I forgot my watch," he said, and smiled. "Can you tell me the time?" When she saw him, she screamed and ran.

Then John Sullivan noticed that other people were afraid of him. When they saw him coming, they flattened themselves against a building, or ran across the street to stay out of his way.

"There must be something wrong with me," John Sullivan thought. "I'd better go home."

He hailed a taxi, but the driver took one look at him and sped away.

John Sullivan did not understand what was going on, and it scared him. "Maybe somebody at home can come and get me," he thought. He found a telephone and called his wife, but a voice he did not recognize answered.

"Is Mrs. Sullivan there?" he asked.

"No, she is at a funeral," the voice said. "Mr. Sullivan was killed yesterday in an accident downtown."

The Wreck

Fred and Jeanne went to the same high school, but they met for the first time at the Christmas dance. Fred had come by himself, and so had Jeanne. Soon Fred decided that Jeanne was one of the nicest girls he had ever met. They danced together most of the evening.

At eleven o'clock Jeanne said, "I have to leave now. Can you give me a ride?"

"Sure," he said. "I've got to go home, too."

"I accidentally drove my car into a tree on my way over here," Jeanne said. "Iguess I wasn't paying attention. "

Fred drove her to the head of Brady Road. It was in a neighborhood he didn't know very well.

"Why don't you drop me off here," Jeanne said. "The road up ahead is in really bad condition. I can walk from here. "

Fred stopped the car and held out some tinsel. "Have some," he said. "I got it at the dance."

"Thank you," she said. "I'll put it in my hair," and she did.

"Would you like to go out sometime, to a movie or something?" Fred asked.

"That would be fun," Jeanne said.

After Fred drove off, he realized that he did not know Jeanne's last name or her telephone number. "I'll go back," he thought. "The road can't be that bad."

He drove slowly down Brady Road through a thick woods, but there wasn't a sign of Jeanne. As he came around a curve, he saw the wreckage of a car ahead. It had crashed into a tree and had caught fire. Smoke was still rising from it.

As Fred made his way to the car, he could see someone trapped inside, crushed against the steering column.

It was Jeanne. In her hair was the Christmas tinsel he had given her.