Creepshow Stephen King Book Novels & Stories

he said with an impish smile, “We got a copy of that one in if you want it.” “I’ll pass.” One of the tapes piled on the counter caught my eye. Its cover was a cheap-looking photo of a cross-eyed platinum blonde staring off into space, her mouth an almost perfect ‘O’ slathered in Crayola red slop. The movie’s two word title written with dripping letters. I picked it up. “Blood Feast,” I read. “I think I may have actually seen this one.” “It’s a classic,” said James. “H.G. Lewis’s stuff was ahead of its time. Looks kinda corny compared to stuff like Day of the Dead or whatever but nobody else was doing anything close back then.”

My whole body shook, my teeth chattering, my vision blurring with tears I couldn’t stop. The light overhead flickered. Footsteps echoed down the hall. Slow. Measured. Unhurried. Not the heavy boots of the men who dragged me. Not the frantic shuffle of someone running. This was deliberate. This was someone who didn’t need to rush. My breath froze. The footsteps stopped outside my door. Silence. Then— A soft knock. Like this was a polite visit. My stomach twisted violently. The lock clicked. The door opened. Reaper stepped inside.

The light illuminated the space, full of old objects and stacked boxes. As she walked, a loose floorboard creaked beneath her feet. She bent down to see what it was and, with some effort, lifted the board. She found an old book, covered in dust, with a leather cover filled with drawings of supernatural creatures. Scarlett’s heart began to race; something about the book drew her in, as if it held secrets waiting to be discovered.

“Sabrina—” “I just need to breathe,” I whispered, then turned and walked away before he could stop me. I didn’t even look back. I couldn’t. My slippers barely made a sound as I climbed the staircase, but my heartbeat echoed loudly in my ears. I didn’t know where I was going. I just wanted to be far from that room. I rounded the corner too quickly and bumped into someone. The shock sent a cold splash across my arm. “Oh!” I gasped, looking down to see the pale fabric of Ace’s shirt soaked with amber liquid. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you—”