Hello there, Aral Stein Story Club members.

I'm Ivy, your ghostly host and keeper of those strange and spooky tales from the hidden

vault of R. L. Stein. Today is another chilling tale. This hair-raising tale story club members

might make you fear your favorite feline. It's one I call

Night of the Cat. Scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch. The sound stirred me from a deep sleep.

Scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch, scratch. Something lurked outside my bedroom window. Waking up, I saw two glowing yellow orbs in the blackness.

At first, I thought they were two car headlights coming toward me, but then I realized that they

were eyes, and they peered right at me. My bedroom is in the basement of the house. The basement

has one window that's right over my bed. The eyes peered down at me.

I first thought that the eyes were reflecting off some moonlight, but then I realized that there was no moon.

The glow emanated from the eyes.

When I was a little kid, I might have thought this was a monster.

Now that I'm older, I knew it was probably a raccoon or a possum or something.

Maybe a cat.

Yeah, a cat. The long pointed ears and

the graceful curved shoulders. The cat just stood there watching me. I couldn't move,

paralyzed beneath its gaze. Shoot, I muttered. Get out of here. The shadowy cat with the bright

yellow eyes ignored me, staring motionless like some kind of demonic statue.

And then the cat let out the most horrible yowl, a shrill deep note that sounded like air

escaping from a truck tire. It sent all the tiny little hairs on my arms up on end and a shutter

running down the back of my spine. I felt my fingertips grasped the ends of my pillow.

Fum! I heaved it at the window.

...