Vampire Breath Read Online Free PDF Page B

with huge paintings. Even in the dim light, I
could see that they were portraits, portraits of stern-faced men and women in
formal, old-fashioned, black clothes.
    I turned back to the rows of coffins—and silently started to count them.
“There must be two dozen coffins in this room!” I whispered to Cara.
    “All lined up so perfectly in two straight rows,” she added. “Freddy, do you
think—?”
    “He took us with him,” I murmured.
    “Huh?” Cara chewed her lip.
    “Count Nightwing. He took us with him,” I repeated. “He was supposed to go
back to his castle—by himself. He said he would go and never see us again. But he took us with him, Cara. I’m sure he did.”
    Cara stared straight ahead at the rows of coffins. “But he can’t do that!” she cried. “He can’t!”
    I started to reply. But a sound made me stop.
    A creaking sound.
    I felt a chill sweep down my back as I heard another creaking, closer this
time.
    Cara grabbed my arm. She heard it too. “Freddy—look!” she whispered.
    I squinted into the dim light. “The coffins—!” I whispered.
    They were all creaking open.

 
 
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    The coffin lids raised up slowly. I could see pale hands pushing them up from
inside. Creaking, the lids swung open, then stopped.
    Cara and I huddled together, unable to move. Unable to take our eyes off the
terrifying sight.
    I heard low moans and groans as the vampires sat up. Bony hands gripped the
sides of the coffins. I heard coughing. Dry throats being cleared.
    The vampires pulled themselves up slowly. Their faces were yellow in the
moonlight. Their eyes gleamed dully, a pale silver.
    “Ohhhhhhh.” Groans echoed off the high walls. Bones creaked and cracked.
    They looked so old. Older than the oldest people you see on the street. Their
skin appeared so thin and was wrapped so tight, you could see the bones
underneath.
    Living skeletons, I thought. Their ancient bones snapped as they moved.
    “Ohhhhhh.” They pulled themselves up. Legs, thin as spider legs, reached over
the coffin sides.
    Cara and I finally moved. We backed into the deep shadows against the wall.
    I heard more coughing. Near the window, a white-haired vampire leaned over
the edge of his coffin, making ugly choking sounds.
    “So thirsty…” I heard one of them whisper.
    “So thirsty… so thirsty…” others repeated.
    They lowered themselves from their coffins, stretching and groaning.
    “So thirsty… so thirsty…” they chanted. Their voices were dry and
raspy, as if their throats were sore, as if their voices were only air.
    They were all dressed in black. Formal black suits. White shirt collars stiff
and high over their chins. Some of them wore long, shiny capes. They adjusted
their capes with bony, white fingers, sweeping them back over bent, skinny
shoulders.
    “So thirsty… so thirsty…” Their silver eyes glowed brighter as they
began to wake up.
    And then, standing in the aisle between the two rows of coffins, they began
to flap their bony arms. Slowly at first. Their arms creaked as they pulled them
up, then down.
    The silver eyes glowed in the pale, old faces.
    Up, then down. Up, then down. They flapped their arms faster, groaning and
grunting. The sound echoed off the walls and the high ceiling.
    Flapping faster now. Flapping. Flapping.
    And as Cara and I gaped in amazement, the sickly, groaning old men began to
shrink. The flapping arms became the flutter of black wings. The red eyes glowed
from rodent-like faces.
    In seconds, they shrank and transformed. They all became fluttering, black
bats.
    And turned their red eyes to Cara and me.

 
 
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    Did they see us?
    Could they see us in the deep darkness, our backs pressed against the stone
wall?
    The bats fluttered up over the open coffins. Their flapping wings glistened,
silvery in the moonlight.
    I heard a rattling, like the warning sound of a snake. But the rattling
quickly became a hiss.
    The bats opened their mouths,