Who's Been Sleeping in My Grave?

by R. L. Stine

Overview

A boy suspects his substitute teacher is hiding a sinister secret in this second book in the Ghosts of Fear Street series from the master of children’s horror, R.L. Stine—now with a reimagined look!

Do you believe in ghosts? Don’t say no until you take a walk down Fear Street. Past the woods, where no birds sing. Past the lake, where something lurks beneath the water. Past the cemetery, where everyone is dying to meet you.

Zack Pepper thinks there is something very wrong with his substitute teacher. She’s super creepy and seems far too interested in him. But no one else seems to notice anything amiss. Zack is going to have to uncover the truth on his own—but will investigating prove to be a deadly mistake?

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9781665979283
Publisher:	Aladdin
Publication date:	07/15/2025
Series:	Ghosts of Fear Street Series , #2
Pages:	144
Product dimensions:	5.70(w) x 8.10(h) x 0.80(d)
Age Range:	8 - 12 Years

About the Author

R.L. Stine invented the teen horror genre with Fear Street, the bestselling teen horror series of all time. He also changed the face of children’s publishing with the mega-successful Goosebumps series, which went on to become a worldwide multimedia phenomenon. Guinness World Records cites Stine as the most prolific author of children’s horror fiction novels. He lives in New York City with his wife, Jane, and their dog, Lucky.

Hometown:

New York, New York

Date of Birth:

October 8, 1943

Place of Birth:

Columbus, Ohio

Education:

B.A., Ohio State University, 1965

Website:

http://www.rlstine.com

Read an Excerpt

Chapter One <figure> ONE
Believe me, it isn’t easy walking to school with your nose stuck in a book. In two blocks I had already tripped over a curb and bumped into a mailbox.

But I had to finish Power Kids!

“The sooner you read it, the sooner you’ll be free from terror forever,” the cover claimed. And if you know Shadyside, you know why I needed to finish the book—fast.

In regular towns you worry about regular things.

In Shadyside you worry about ghosts.

At least I do.

I’m scared of the ghost who wants to play hide-and-seek with kids in the Fear Street Woods. I’ve never seen it myself. But I know people who have.

I’m scared of the burned-out Fear Street mansion. Ghosts have lived there for years and years. At least that’s what my friends in school tell me.

And I have nightmares about Fear Street. It’s the creepiest street in town—maybe in the whole world. Kevin, my fifteen-year-old brother, says the ghosts that haunt Fear Street are really evil. And horrible things will happen if they catch you.

I think Kevin is really evil. He loves trying to scare me.

But he won’t be able to—not after I finish Power Kids! Nothing will scare me then. The book guarantees it—or I get my money back.

The kids in my class are going to be pretty upset. They love scaring me, too. Especially on Halloween—which is this Friday, only five days away.

Last Halloween they convinced me that a ghost salesman ran the shoe section in Dalby’s Department Store. So I wore high-tops with huge holes in them all winter long. My toes froze.

Sometimes I imagine my friends keeping score. Whoever comes up with the story that scares me the most wins.

I hate it! But I’m almost a Power Kid now. So they’ll have to find a new game this Halloween.

“Hey, Zack!” someone yelled.

I didn’t bother to glance up from my book. It was Chris Hassler—one of my friends from school.

Chris and I are really different. Chris is short and chubby. He has bright red, curly hair and lots of freckles. Chris is usually laughing—or seems as if he’s about to.

I do not look as if I’m about to burst out laughing. Big surprise, right? My grandmother says I have “very serious” eyes, like all the men in the Pepper family.

I have straight brown hair and I’m much taller than Chris. In fact, I’m the tallest kid in the fifth grade.

“Hey, Zack, wait up!” Chris called.

I kept my eyes glued to Power Kids! and walked faster.

Chris grabbed my arm as I hurried by his front gate. “Didn’t you hear me?” he asked.

“Of course I heard you.” I jerked my arm away. “I was trying to ignore you.”

I crammed Power Kids! into my book bag as fast as I could. Chris would laugh his guts out if he spotted it.

“What are you hiding in there?” Chris demanded.

“Something my grandmother gave me for my birthday last week,” I said.

“Your grandmother didn’t give you any book! She gave you those polka-dot socks. I was at your party. Remember?”

“How could I forget?”

Chris grinned. “Come on. The snake I gave you was a cool present. I can’t help it if you thought it was real. And you screamed your head off.”

I reached into my backpack and pulled out the slimy rubber snake. “Well, it could have been real!” I shook it in his face.

Chris slapped the snake away. “If you hate it so much, how come you’re carrying it around?”

“So I never forget how everyone laughed when I threw the box across the room,” I explained. “Every time I see that snake, it will remind me not to let anyone scare me. Ever. Especially you.” I returned the rubber snake to my backpack.

“Aw, come on, Zack,” Chris whined. “Can’t you take one little joke?”

“It’s not one little joke,” I insisted. “It’s a lot of big jokes. Only they’re not funny. They’re mean!”

“It’s not like I tried to be mean.” Chris sounded hurt.

“Yeah, right.” I snorted. “You thought I wanted to make a fool of myself at my own party.”

“I’m sorry, Zack,” he said quietly. “You’re my best friend. And I really need to talk to you about something. Something serious.”

“What?” I asked.

Chris slowly walked back toward his front door, his head down. He sat on the steps. I followed him.

“It’s about a dog,” Chris began. He talked so low I could hardly hear him. “I’m really worried about it.”

“You’re worried about a dog?” I said.

Chris peered left, then right. To see if anyone was listening. Then he whispered, “This isn’t a regular dog. It’s a ghost dog.”

“A ghost dog!” I glared at Chris. “I know what you’re trying to—”

“I’m not kidding this time,” Chris interrupted. “I’m not. And I’m really scared.”

Remember the snake, Zack, I told myself. Remember the snake. But then I noticed Chris’s hands. They were trembling. Now I felt bad for being suspicious. “Okay,” I said. “Tell me about it.”

“Well, about a week ago we started hearing a dog howling in the middle of the night. We searched for it. But we never found it. Then last night, my dad...” Chris hesitated.

“What?” I demanded.

“Last night my dad was taking the garbage out. And the ghost dog lunged for him.” Chris swallowed hard.

“Why do you think it’s a ghost dog?” I asked.

Chris inhaled deeply. “Dad used the garbage can lid to shield himself—but the dog jumped right through it.”

Now my hands began to tremble.

“Wh-what does the ghost dog look like?” I stammered.

“It’s pure white, with a big black spot on one side,” Chris replied. “Dad’s sure the dog will be back tonight. And I’m really afraid.”

Chris had barely finished his sentence when we heard it.

Howling.

I jerked my head up—and there it was. Coming right at me. A white dog. With a big black spot on its side.

The ghost dog!