Gas Mask Kid: Darkhill Scary Stories, #2

By Keith Robinson

Ben, Emma, Nate, and Mia – four friends determined to film the paranormal in the creepy town of Darkhill. They call themselves DARKSEEKERS.

 

"If you hear a siren at dawn, it might just be the Gas Mask Kid. Stay away from her!"

 

So goes the spooky tale. Decades ago, a malfunction at a pesticide factory released a toxic cloud onto the residents of Darkhill. Every year since, a young girl wearing a gas mask has haunted the town. She just wants to be somebody's friend, but a single touch of her poisoned fingers can prove fatal.

 

When she shows up again, the Darkseekers are on the case. Armed with mobile phone cameras, the four friends set out to await her arrival and get her on film. But they quickly realize they've underestimated how determined she is to make a new friend...

 

Written by the author of the Island of Fog series, GAS MASK KID is the second in a new supernatural series. If you're a fan of Goosebumps, you'll love Darkhill Scary Stories!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Unearthly Tales
• Release date: Feb 19, 2021
• ISBN: 9798215263860

Keith Robinson

Keith Robinson is a writer of fantasy fiction for middle-grade readers and young adults. His ISLAND OF FOG series has received extremely positive feedback from readers of all ages including Piers Anthony (best-selling author of the Magic of Xanth series) and Writer's Digest. Visit UnearthlyTales.com for more.

Book preview

Our Town is Haunted!

Ben, Emma, Nate, and Mia are determined to film the paranormal in the creepy town of Darkhill. They call themselves Darkseekers. And there’s an abundance of spooky stuff where they live!

Though surrounded by sinister legends and terrible tales, nobody wants to go on record about it. It’s bad for business, the mayor insists. Never talk to reporters.

While most of the residents agree to keep their mouths shut for the sake of the community, a small team of twelve-year-olds is determined to dig deeper into the creepy stories and obtain actual evidence of the supernatural. The brave Darkseekers tackle case after case armed with mobile phones, plenty of enthusiasm, and at least a vague idea of the danger they’re getting into.

For fans of Goosebumps, these ghostly tales are complete stories and can be read in any order.

Chapter 1

The Darkseekers

Sounds ominous, the man with round glasses says, peering down his nose at me as he leans across the counter. Darkseekers? How’d you come up with that, then?

It’s our name. I’m getting annoyed now. We seek the truth about the weird legends of our town. Darkhill truth seekers, or Darkseekers for short. Seems like a pretty decent name to me.

Oh, it is, it is. I’m not making fun. Just interested, is all.

He has a badge hanging around his neck: Dave Tulip, Assistant Editor, Stronghorn Post. Oh, how I’d love to have a badge like that. Doesn’t have to be for this newspaper, or any newspaper, but a badge all the same. Maybe we should make our own . . .

Thing is, Ben, Mr. Tulip says in a tone that suggests I might as well give up now and walk out so I don’t have to endure a long, patronizing speech, "our newspaper has built a decent reputation over the last ten years. We report on serious matters. Down-to-earth, everyday topics that hard-working men and women can relate to. Do you see? We can’t start going on about ghosts, you hear me? Especially . . ."

He trails off and gives a shrug.

Especially what? I ask, standing up straight. Especially from a bunch of kids?

He spreads his hands. Wasn’t gonna say anything about that, although that’s a consideration, too. No, it’s just . . . I mean . . .

And there it is—the barely contained smile.

I bite my tongue. Being rude isn’t going to help. You don’t believe me, I mutter.

He reaches out and slides my phone a little closer to me even though it’s firmly on my side of the counter already. "It’s a good movie, kid. I mean, really good. You should get a YouTube channel."

You seriously don’t believe that’s a ghost? I’m actually pretty blown away. You’d have to be blind to refute evidence like this. Blind or stupid. She’s standing right there! Hair and nightgown blowing in a nonexistent wind, leaves flying all around her, bright yellow eyes . . . How can you not see that?

I see it just fine, he says with a sigh. He pushes his glasses up his nose. "Amazing what a bunch of smart kids can do on their computers these days. Look, come back when you have a real story, okay? Something tangible, not a half-baked tale about a haunted cottage in the woods."

"It’s not a half-baked— I start to yell. Then, seeing his raised eyebrow, I clench my fists out of sight, count to three, and nod. All right. I understand. Thank you for your time."

Dave Tulip looks a little surprised at the way I backed down just then. I think he appreciates it, because he offers a sympathetic smile and gives a nod. You’re very welcome, kid. Just remember—you’re either a ghost hunter, or you’re a serious journalist. The two don’t really mix, okay? We want proper stories, not wild tales of the supernatural.

No ghosts, I mumble, pocketing my phone and turning to leave. Gotcha.

He barks a laugh. No ghosts. And definitely not the latest story coming out of that creepy town you live in. You heard that one? About the Gas Mask Kid? Dumbest thing I ever heard.

I pause on my way across the lobby. Turning back, I frown at him. The what?

His smile fades. "I said definitely not that one. Leave it alone. Seriously, if you want to be a journalist, quit chasing shadows."

When I leave the Stronghorn Post building, I almost walk straight past my three friends where they’re waiting on the wooden bench outside. They jump up and run after me.

Hey, Nate calls. Forget we’re here?

I laugh. I kinda did.

Emma gives my arm a poke. So, spill it. Any luck?

By the way Mia is noisily chewing gum and looking grim, she already knows the answer.

No, I tell them. "He doesn’t believe the evidence. I mean, we have a ghost on film, and that’s still not enough. He thinks it’s a home-made movie."

We all should have come in, Mia grumbles. "We have three phones with video evidence."

Would have been four if I hadn’t used mine as a distraction, Nate adds.

I shake my head. "Somehow, I doubt it would have made a difference. He wants proper stories for his serious newspaper. My lip curls with disdain. He’ll regret passing up on this exclusive. Our story could have put this crummy little town on the map. His paper might have been famous."

Emma gives me a nudge. It’s okay. There are other papers.

Yeah, but we wasted an afternoon coming here, Nate says, throwing up his hands in an exaggerated show of frustration. Where’s your mom now, Mia?

Mia shrugs. I think she went into that hat shop across the road. She’ll be here another hour, probably. We’re stuck in Stronghorn until she’s ready to leave.

What a disappointing result. If all had gone well, we’d have spent the hour detailing our entire story, and then reporters would have made arrangements to come visit Direwood in Darkhill, and we’d have shown them the ruined cottage and everything. Instead, a complete dead end despite overwhelming evidence proving our case.

Emma, Mia, and Nate spend a moment trying to decide which newspaper to try next. Darkhill and Stronghorn are fairly close to each other, just four miles apart, but the next nearest town is Misty Heights to the south, with at least ten miles of windy lanes to get to it. Besides, their paper is The Misty Headlines, and literally nobody reads that free rag.

My mind drifts. What the heck is the Gas Mask Kid? Telling me to avoid the story is like telling me to do the exact opposite. What Assistant Editor Dave Tulip considers dumb is probably the kind of story the Darkseekers will find incredibly fascinating.

The Gas Mask Kid, I murmur.

My friends pause and look at me. What? Nate says.

Something that guy said. He said there’s a new Darkhill story going around—something about the Gas Mask Kid. He said it’s dumb and we shouldn’t bother with it.

Tell me more, Emma says, her eyes wide.

That’s all I know. But I reckon we need to look into it, right?

Totally, Mia agrees. Never heard of that one. I assume this is about a kid with a gas mask. She says it in a dry, matter-of-fact way. Why would a kid be wearing a gas mask around Darkhill?

Nate pulls his phone out. How old is this kid? Is this a new story? Something recent?

Mia rolls her eyes. He doesn’t know, Nathaniel. Look it up.

"I am."

We all are by now. Phones are great. The internet is great. All the answers we want are at our fingertips.

Except . . .

Nothing, Emma says. Nothing recent, anyway.

Mia clicks her tongue. There never is. Nobody ever reports anything strange around our town. Like that idiot you just spoke to, Ben. They literally don’t know a real story when they have evidence staring them in the face.

I can’t find anything on the internet either. Weird. That’s the problem with Darkhill. It’s full of mysterious goings-on, and everybody has heard variations of the same tales. Yet nobody ever speaks of it officially. Nothing strange is ever mentioned on the TV, and nobody writes articles. It’s like the mayor has threatened every resident to keep quiet or else.

The four of us plan to change all that. We’re the Darkseekers, and we investigate the spooky, the mysterious, the supernatural. One day we’ll be famous. We plan to pull our town apart, peer under every rock, poke into every corner, and check every closet for skeletons.

We need to find some gossip, I suggest. Didn’t we pass a post office on our way in? That might be a good place to start. Postal workers have their ears to the ground.

Emma frowns. Do they? I thought they just drove around delivering mail. When do they get time to chat?

You’re talking about the drivers. I’m talking about the people behind the counter. They know literally everyone and everything. I point along the street. Let’s walk. It’s not too far. Mia, text your mom and let her know.

Don’t tell me what to do, she grumbles, pulling