Angol
The elevator stops on a floor that isn't there. Someone has been waiting a very long time.
Cyrus Blackwood counts things when he gets scared. Steps. Ceiling tiles. The nine times he straightened his crooked tie before the wedding rehearsal. Counting keeps his chest from getting tight. Counting keeps things normal.
The Grand Marlowe Hotel is ninety years old, half wrapped in plastic sheeting, and full of relatives who want to know how school is going. The only good part is Lark Bellamy, his best friend, who presses every button she sees on principle.
Which is a problem. Because the Grand Marlowe's brass elevator has buttons for floors one through twelve, then fourteen. No thirteen. Everybody knows old hotels skip it.
So when the dial swings past twelve and stops, and the doors slide open on a bone-white hallway lit acid green, Cyrus starts counting fast. He counts the tall, thin guests standing shoulder to shoulder in old-fashioned clothes. He counts the smooth, blank places where their faces should be.
They are very polite. They are very patient. Their rooms are all made up, and nobody has checked out since 1936. And they would love - they would truly love - for Cyrus to take a room key.
He gets away. He rides the elevator down. He rejoins the wedding, eats cake, and tells himself he is safe.
Then he looks at the brass key in his pocket. It used to say 812.
Now it says 1301. And he is the only one who can see it.
Perfect for readers 8-12 who love a good scare. Creep Street books are fast, funny, and genuinely creepy standalone novellas written for grades 3-6 - including reluctant readers who say they "don't like books." Every title stands alone, so you can start anywhere on the street. Parents, teachers, and school librarians: these are the ones kids finish in a weekend and then ask for another.
Some doors open on hallways. Some open on the guests. Press the button and find out which.
Creep Street. Every house has a story. Every story has teeth.
