Today we’re spotlighting Stinetinglers 4: 3 Chilling Tales by the Master of Scary Stories by R.L. Stine!
Read on for more about the author and the book!
About the Author: R.L. Stine
R.L. STINE is one of the bestselling children’s authors in history. Nearing its thirtieth anniversary, Goosebumps has more than 350 million English language books in print, plus an additional 50+ million international copies in print in thirty-two languages. He is also the author of the Fear Street series, which was recently revived as a feature film trilogy, The Garbage Pail Kids, It’s The First Day of School Forever, A Midsummer Night’s Scream, Young Scrooge, and two picture books with Marc Brown. R.L. Stine lives in New York City with his wife Jane, an editor and publisher.
~Excerpt~
CHAPTER 7
I entered the comic shop and waited for my eyes to adjust to the dim light. I fixed the mask over my face and walked up to the counter.
Duane was hunched over a stack of papers. He scratched his stubbly black beard and muttered to himself as he moved from page to page.
His T-shirt read you can’t be serious and had an orange stain on one sleeve.
I cleared my throat, and he finally looked up. “Hey,” he muttered.
He didn’t act at all surprised to see someone standing there in a Super Speed-Man costume. He squinted at me. “Help you?”
“I’m Tony,” I said. “From yesterday?”
He continued to squint at me with one eye. “Yesterday?” “Yes. You said to come back today. And you’d look at my
collection.”
He shrugged. “Okay. So you’re back.” He reached out and pinched my sleeve. “Early for Halloween, ain’t it? Or do you really believe you’re Super Speed-Man?”
“I wanted to surprise Caleb,” I said.
He scratched his beard. I wondered if he had fleas living in it.
I turned and gazed around the store. I saw a couple of teenage guys leafing through comics at one of the back shelves. But no sign of Caleb.
“Caleb said he’d meet me here,” I told Duane. “He said he had some duplicates for my collection.”
Duane sniffed. “Who is Caleb? Am I supposed to know him?”
I nodded. “Yes. He was here yesterday. The three of us talked.”
“I talk to a lot of people,” Duane replied. “Remember? He wore a bright yellow vest?” I said. Duane shrugged again. “If you say so.”
“You really don’t remember him?” I said.
“Hey, Speed-Man. I get a lot of customers. Am I sup- posed to remember them all?”
“Caleb keeps a box here,” I said.
“So do a lot of people,” he shot back. He slapped the stack of papers on the counter. “Look, kid. I gotta go through these invoices. They aren’t going to read themselves.”
“Sorry—” I started.
“Your friend Casey probably got hung up.” “Caleb,” I corrected him.
He pointed toward the back of the shop. “Why don’t you get outta my face? Go back there and wait for him, okay?” He didn’t listen for an answer. He put his head to the stack of papers and began muttering to himself again.
I turned with a sigh and started to walk toward the back. The two teenage guys lowered their comics and eyed me as I passed by them. “Cool costume,” one of them said.
“I was into Super Speed-Man when I was four!” the other one said.
And they both burst out laughing.
I stepped behind the table at the back wall. I kept glanc- ing to the front door. But no sign of Caleb.
I found my box and peered down at the stack of comics in their clear envelopes. Then I turned to the carton next to mine. Caleb’s carton.
Whoa. Wait.
What was bunched up at the top of his carton? I recog- nized it immediately.
Why was Caleb’s yellow vest in there?
CHAPTER 8
I gazed at the vest for a long moment. Then I reached into
the carton and pulled it out. It felt satiny and smooth.
I stretched it out in front of me and held it up. “Hey, Duane—” I started to call to him.
But three young women had entered the store and were huddled around Duane, all talking at once, blocking his view.
My mind spinning, I dropped the vest back into Caleb’s carton and folded it carefully.
Why would he go home without his vest?
Why would he bunch it up and toss it in the carton?
I couldn’t answer the questions that swept through my mind.
I decided there was probably a simple reason. I mean, it was actually no big thing, no mystery. Maybe he felt too warm, so he took it off before he left the shop.
But . . . where was he?
He said he’d meet me here and we’d show my stuff to Duane.
And why didn’t Duane remember him? Was Duane only pretending?
I started to call to Duane again. But two more customers had come in, and he seemed really busy.
I’ll wait a few more minutes, I decided. In case Caleb shows up late. Then maybe I’ll come back tomorrow afternoon.
I glanced at the yellow vest again. Then I turned and my eyes stopped at the narrow gray door with the discontin– ued sign on it.
The door . . . It wasn’t latched. It was open just a crack.
I stepped over to the door. I remembered that Duane didn’t want anyone near it. I thought about the hard time he gave Caleb yesterday, accusing Caleb of looking behind the door.
I wrapped my hand around the metal doorknob. I planned to shut the door tightly for Duane. But I stopped.
Maybe a peek. Maybe just a quick peek into the room behind the door. Just to see what the big fuss was about.
I gazed toward the front of the shop. Duane was on a tall ladder, pulling down some boxed sets for a customer. He had his back turned to me.
So I gripped the doorknob, pulled the door open—just a little—and peered inside.
I stared into a narrow room without any windows. Wooden shelves rose to the ceiling on three walls. I didn’t see any other furniture.
I can’t really explain what happened next.
I meant to close the door and step away. But I found myself slipping through the doorway and into the room.
Why did I do that? As I say, I can’t explain it. It’s as if it happened to me without me thinking or doing anything.
There I stood in the long, empty room. The door closed softly behind me.
And yes, the room was empty. The tall shelves were all empty. No furniture. No chairs or tables or anything. No paintings or posters on the bare, gray walls. No comics anywhere.
An empty room.
What could be the big deal?
Why didn’t Duane want anyone to see this room?
I suddenly realized I had to get out of there. I had slipped in without thinking. And now . . . if Duane caught me . . .
I turned and reached for the doorknob. “Whoa!” A cry escaped my throat.
It wasn’t there. I grabbed the wall.
My heart skipped a beat. I gazed from one end of the wall to the other.
The door. Where was it? Where was the door? I was staring at solid wall.
About the Book: Stinetinglers 4: 3 Chilling Tales by the Master of Scary Stories
Get ready for Halloween with ten new stories from Goosebumps author R.L. Stine that are sure to leave you shivering.
From R.L. Stine, the master of horror for young readers, comes three chilling novellas, all set in the small town of Hollow Hills.
Tony has a love of old comics… but when he goes poking around where he doesn’t belong, will he find himself discontinued? Kylie is thrilled to have a summer job at the local pet store… but will the store’s more gruesome creatures rub off on her? Teddy knows his new substitute teacher has a monstrous secret… but will telling the truth mean risking Mr. Howell’s wrath?
Laced with Stine’s signature humor and a hefty dose of nightmarish fun, Stinetinglers 4 is perfect for fans of Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark and Stine’s own Goosebumps books who want even more scares. These chilling tales prove that Stine’s epic legacy in the horror genre is justly earned. One thing’s for certain, the residents of Hollow Hills are in for a handful of horrors… they just don’t know it yet.
Title: Stinetinglers 4: 3 Chilling Tales by the Master of Scary Stories
Author: R.L. Stine
Release Date: 8/26/2025
Publisher: Feiwel & Friends
Genre: Middle Grade Short Stories
Age Range: 8-12
