The Night of the Nobody

By Guy Bass and Pete Williamson

The fourth tall-but-true tale in the darkly comic series SKELETON KEYS from the award-winning duo behind STITCH HEAD.
Greetings! My name is Skeleton Keys and these fantabulant fingers of mine can open doors to hidden worlds… Join me for the terrifying tale of the Nobody – a nightmarish unimaginary with a dark mission…
On the hunt for an unimaginary, Skeleton Keys meets young Flynn Twist, a boy with a wild imagination who tells of his encounter with a terrifying shadow calling itself the Nobody.
Skeleton Keys suspects it could be a shapeless unimaginary searching for a physical form. As night falls the Nobody roams the village of Matching Trousers turning everyone it meets into zombie-like nobodies. No one is safe – not even Skeleton Keys. Soon only Flynn is left. Can he become the brave hero of his imagination and free everybody from the Nobody?
Perfect for fans of David Walliams, AMELIA FANG and THE NOTHING TO SEE HERE HOTEL.
Praise for SKELETON KEYS: "Guy has mixed cleverly created characters with his trademark humour and wit to give us his best book yet. This is one spooky series I'm going to devour!" – Authorfy

• Language: English
• Publisher: Little Tiger Press
• Release date: Jun 7, 2022
• ISBN: 9781788953986

Guy Bass

Guy Bass is an award-winning author, whose children’s books series include Stitch Head, The Legend of Frog, Dinkin Dings, Atomic! and Secret Santa: Agent of X.M.A.S. Guy has also written plays for both adults and children. Before becoming a full-time writer, he previously worked as a theatre producer, illustrator, temp, gerbil whisperer and has acted his way out of several paper bags.

Book preview

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To Christopher Gatsinzi Simpson and Elliott

Gatsinzi Harris ~ Guy Bass

To you, dear reader! ~ Pete Williamson

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Contents

Title Page

Dedication

Introduction

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

About the Author

About the Illustrator

Stitch Head

Bringing the Characters to Life

More Skeleton Keys

Copyright

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Greetings! To gadarounds, chanternuts and rooklers! To the imaginary and the unimaginary! To the living, the dead and everyone in between, my name is Keys … Skeleton Keys.

Hundreds of moons ago, I was an IF – an imaginary friend. Then, before I could say Crumcrinkles, I was suddenly as real as feet! I had become unimaginary.

Now, Ol’ Mr Keys looks out for other IFs who find themselves suddenly unimagined, whenever, wherever and whyever! For these fantabulant fingers open doors to anywhere and elsewhere … hidden worlds … secret places … doors to the limitless realm of all imagination.

These keys have led me to a hundred adventures and a hundred more relatively soon afterwards! The stories I could tell you…

But of course, it is a story you are waiting for! Well, fret not, dallywanglers – today’s tall tale is such a hum-dum-dinger that it will make you question the unquestionable. A tale so truly 2unbelievable that it must, unbelievably, be true.

This is Flynn Twist. It is safe to say, which I do, that Flynn lives in a world of his own. Even he is not sure why he so often escapes into his imagination. But, wherever possible, Flynn lets his mind wander far and wide to the wonderfilled world of his wild imaginings, in which he is the hero of his own stories. They are tales of a brave and valiant champion and his mighty steed … of noble quests and dangers untold … of a magical world where anything can happen.

3But, little does Flynn know, his life is about to become stranger and more adventuresome than he ever could have dreamed.

For strange things can happen when imaginations run wild…

Our story begins in the quiet, oh-so slumberly village of Matching Trousers, population three hundred and forty-three. It is autumn, and ruddy-reddish leaves strew quiet, tree-lined streets. Flynn and his infant sister Nellie have recently moved to Matching Trousers to live with their grandmother. It is the end of their first week in the village and life, though generally uneventful, is not without surprises… 4

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RUFF

UFF

RARFF!

Flynn raced back into the house and slammed the front door shut. Next door’s dog kept barking. Flynn was quite sure that, given half a chance, that dog would eat him, shoes and all.

Did you put the bins out? called his gran from the kitchen.

He’s out there… Flynn replied. "He’s always out there." 8

Who, Rocky Two? said Gran. That dog’s bark is worse than his bite … although his bite could take your head off.

No, I mean the boy over the road – he’s out there again. Flynn edged over to the front window and peered out through a tiny gap in the curtains. The grey gloom of evening had fallen over the village. Still, he could make out the boy standing outside his house on the other side of the road. He was younger than Flynn, maybe five or six, and so bone-thin and pale that he looked altogether unwell. He’s not moving, Flynn added. He’s just standing there, staring.

There’s no crime in standing or staring, said Flynn’s gran, coming in from the kitchen with two plates of food. You’ll get used to it.

I never see anybody else there, but he can’t live on his own, it’s not allowed, said Flynn. "He’s weird."

That’s not a crime either, lucky for me, added Gran. Flynn turned to see her with a carrot up each nostril and let out a chuckle. Gran took the carrots 9out of her nose and put them straight back on their plates. Flynn winced. Eat, or it’ll go cold, she said, taking out her false teeth and dropping them into a glass before tucking in. Flynn winced again and made his way to the dinner table.

All Gran’s dinners looked the same – a grey piece of meat surrounded by mushy vegetables, with a comforting, school dinnerish smell. Not for the first time, Flynn cut the piece of meat in two and, when his gran wasn’t looking, slipped half into his pocket. If 10he was to survive tomorrow’s encounter with next door’s dog, he would need all the help he could get.

Flynn’s first forkful was heading towards his mouth when the sound of his sister’s cries echoed through the house. Flynn’s gran looked over at the old grandfather clock, tick-tocking loudly in the corner of the room.

She’s only been down half an hour, Gran sighed, taking a mouthful of food. Nellie does so hate being left alone. Sounds like she could do with another one of her brother’s stories…

I already told her a story, said Flynn. It was a new one, too.

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