Search for the Silver Swamp Monster (A Griffin Ghostley Adventure Book 1) Read online

  A Griffin Ghostley Adventure

  Book #1

  THOMAS J. PRESTOPNIK

  Copyright © 2016 by Thomas J. Prestopnik

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a book reviewer who may quote short excerpts of this literary work in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely coincidental.

  Visit Thomas J. Prestopnik’s website at www.TomPresto.com.

  Cover Image: iStock

  From ghoulies and ghosties

  And long-leggedy beasties

  And things that go bump in the night,

  Good Lord, deliver us!

  Traditional Scottish Prayer

  CHAPTER 1

  The Map

  CHAPTER 2

  Alpha, Beta, Gamma

  CHAPTER 3

  The Thin Man

  CHAPTER 4

  The First Clue

  CHAPTER 5

  Pumpkin Hunting

  CHAPTER 6

  One Step Back

  CHAPTER 7

  An Eerie Glow

  CHAPTER 8

  X Marks the Spot

  CHAPTER 9

  Rising Water

  CHAPTER 10

  The Final Seconds

  The Map

  Here it is, lying right in front of me. A map. A very puzzling map, full of numbers and weird symbols. It stares back at me without a hint of an expression, yet seems to silently laugh at me, too, as if knowing it will get the best of me. Yes, I know that maps can’t stare or laugh, but you know what I mean.

  It’s a very confusing map to look at, but I can’t take my eyes off of it as I try to decipher what it means. Yet at the same time I feel as if I’m drowning in its words and figures that swirl about in my mind like a pile of leaves caught in a chilly autumn wind.

  But the questions most on your mind might be these. Who drew this strange map? And how did it come into my possession? Well, let’s just say that I have my suspicions which I’ll happily share–eerie and chilling suspicions, mind you.

  You see, I am quite certain that this map was drawn by a being of otherworldly origins, though I can’t yet prove it. And how it arrived in our world, well, I can’t even begin to guess that either. But of this one fact I am sure–this being is definitely a bizarre and scary creature regardless of where it came from, and on that you can take my word. And since today happens to be Halloween, I’m even more than certain that this peculiar map was especially created to confuse me, to taunt me, and ultimately, to trap me and send me spiraling to a final and crushing defeat.

  Do you think I’m being overly dramatic in my suspicions? Oh, think again. I know what awaits me out there if I follow this map, but still, I will boldly accept the challenge put forth, not letting on that I suspect any danger lurking behind this trick.

  But why, you may ask? Why even take this map bait if only trouble lies ahead? Let me respond by saying that the answer is very simple. I rise to this test because it is the only way I can finally defeat the one whom I suspect is my opponent, a very worthy opponent, too, namely, the Silver Swamp monster.

  Yes, you heard me say that name correctly. The Silver Swamp monster. A strange entity so clever, so fiendish, so frightening, that I dare not describe it in complete detail lest I scare you off from learning this tale in whole. But I will say that the swamp monster is a cagey one, usually lurking silently behind a thicket of protective ferns near its watery lair, the Silver Swamp, waiting to strike its next unsuspecting victim with the cruelest of tricks.

  And how, you might also ask, should I know any of this? Well, that’s an easy enough question to answer even if deciphering this curious map is not. I should let you know that I have dealt with the Silver Swamp monster many times in the past and have lived to tell about it, barely. But this newest encounter may be my most difficult one yet, but only time will tell.

  But why, you might also also ask, am I the repeated target of this devious creature’s relentless attacks? What makes me so special or feared or despised that the Silver Swamp monster would even give me the time of day, much less design a map plotting out my very destruction?

  Well, that’s just one more easy answer to another easy question. You see, my name is Griffin Ghostley, and though I’m only a mere sixth grader at the Franklin W. Fitzgibbon Middle School, I also happen to be a world famous Halloween detective. Yes, you again heard me speak correctly–world famous.

  And not just because my last name is Ghostley, mind you. I think the real reason for my success is that my keen sense of logic and my sharp reasoning skills are strongly imprinted upon my DNA. And I tell you this with all modesty. My last name is just a delightful coincidence.

  And as that very same name, Griffin Ghostley, is also printed on the top left corner of this mysterious map in front of me, I have concluded that the Silver Swamp monster is sending me a message, daring me to go on a search that I can’t avoid even though it might send me to my final doom.

  But a search for what? What is this clever deception, this ghastly game, leading to? And do I have the slightest chance of winning before my time has finally run out?

  Oh, I can only imagine what awaits me. My senses are tingling right now like those of a spider who patiently sits in the center of its web just as a fly gets caught in the dew-dotted strands. I am full of nervous energy yet remain surprisingly calm deep inside, at least for now. And I am acutely aware that the fiendish game is on, that monster eyes are closely watching me.

  But if I don’t soon unravel the clues facing me on this mystifying map, well then, in the very end I will be the victim of its maker, this cruel cartographer who again has me in its supernatural and spine chilling sights.

  Still, I must take the chance. I must solve this riddle once and for all and beat the Silver Swamp monster at its own game. I have to. After all, it is in my nature to try to beat the odds.

  But I will need the help of three trusted friends along the way, friends who have never let me down before. Oh, and here they are now.

  Alpha, Beta, Gamma

  “Come on, everyone! We have a job to do! Are you with me?” I shout this out with enthusiasm to my three friends. And though it might be a job a bit on the creepy-scary side of things, it’s still a job that needs to be done. I don’t reveal that particular point to my companions just yet, however. I’ll ease them into it.

  My trio of friends eagerly race to me as if they haven’t seen me in years. Well, two of them race toward me as I sit on a park bench beneath a sprawling maple tree as I attempt to decipher this map in the red-orange glow of the late afternoon sunlight. A chilly autumn breeze rustles the last dry leaves still clinging to the tree. My third friend takes his sweet time and waddles over at his leisure as if I’m required to wait for him. But I’m more than happy to do so. Alpha, Beta and Gamma have accompanied me on many past adventures, and I am very happy to accommodate this canine trio’s range of peculiarities as they have given me nothing but their trust and devotion during our time together.

  Alpha is a young black Labrador Retriever with a sharp bark and a sleek coat of fur, fancying himself as the ringleader of the bunch. This tail-wagging bundle of energy is ready to go anywhere at a moment’s notic
e.

  Beta, a trim, regal and self-assured Dalmatian, has an equally powerful bark and a mind of her own, yet is more than willing to let Alpha think he is in charge of the gang to keep the peace. But she’ll be quick to put her paw down if he ever crosses the line.

  And Gamma, well, he tends to do things in his own time and manner. He’s a light brown and white Basset Hound with floppy ears and a super knack for finding the perfect napping spot just about anywhere. But if Alpha and Beta get into one of their barking competitions, Gamma can produce a sustained mournful howl that will drown them both out if he’s really up to the task.

  I just hope that they’re all up for this ultimate task against the Silver Swamp monster. I hope I am, too.

  As I study the map with my name upon it, I immediately notice a large black X near one side of the paper. The X covers a gray square that looks like a figure of a stone building, a building that I guess is my ultimate destination. Printed beneath that gray square in small capital letters are three words: KENSINGTON CIRCLE CORPORATION. A chill runs through me as Alpha, Beta and Gamma anxiously move about, as if sensing my unease.

  You see, I have heard of that building just outside of town, an abandoned bicycle factory that went out of business years ago. It also happens to be located about a half mile away from a certain swamp. Yes, that swamp. The Silver Swamp. Coincidence? I think not. But why does the Silver Swamp monster want me to go to an old factory?

  It is then that I notice even more lines of tinier print beneath the words Kensington Circle Corporation. I remove a magnifying glass from my coat pocket that I always carry with me along with a couple of small flashlights. Hey, now what kind of a Halloween detective would I be without those items? I glance through the magnifying glass with a most curious eye, carefully studying the now enlarged letters. They read:

  A combination vault sitting inside this building is what you must reach, detective, if you have the courage and smarts that you claim to possess. The three-number combination can be attained by solving the three riddles at the bottom of this map. And if you ever manage to reach the vault, heed this warning: you are only allowed ONE chance to open its door, if you dare! The fates of you and of so many others are in your hands if you do not get that door open in time. Can you save them? Now you’d better hurry, detective, as precious seconds are already ticking away.

  “Three clues. Well, I guess we have our work cut out for us,” I tell my trio of furry mates, petting each of them as they nose about the park bench in their antsy way, hoping to urge me onward.

  “Yes, I guess we have!”

  I look up, startled, not having noticed that a person had been quietly drawing closer to me while the map had consumed my attention. Not my finest moment, being so easily caught by someone while unaware of my surroundings, especially since I claim to be a great Halloween detective. I have now accidentally revealed the existence of my secret map to this particular someone, namely, Mindy Mayhew, my sixth grade classmate at the Franklin W. Fitzgibbon Middle School.

  Mindy has long dark hair and wears a pair of owlish glasses, and though she can sometimes be a bit annoying when she tries to pry into my business, she is a good friend and looks kind of pretty in her checkered pale blue coat and matching knit hat. But most importantly, she likes Alpha, Beta and Gamma, and they seem to like her as she bends down to pet them with a playful grin.

  “What are you doing here, Mindy?” My heart beats rapidly, fearing she may have already discovered my business.

  “I might ask you the same question, Griffin,” she replies with a raised eyebrow, glancing at the map that I clumsily try to conceal beneath my hands. “So, tell me about those three clues.”

  Rats! She has discovered my business, so I can either try to make up a story to deceive her, or admit what is really going on. But Mindy is too smart and clever and not easily fooled, so I slowly move my hands away and sigh, revealing the map in the glimmering golden sunlight.

  “I have a mission to complete, Mindy–a very dangerous one. And Alpha, Beta and Gamma are going with me.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to tackle anything other than a dangerous mission, being the great Halloween detective that you are. And from some of the stories you’ve told me, I’m guessing this has something to do with the Silver Swamp monster,” she replies while plopping down on the park bench next to me.

  “It does,” I say.

  “I suspected as much. Now about these three clues. Let me see the first one please. There’s nothing I like better than a mental challenge,” she tells me, pulling the map toward her. “You don’t mind, do you, Griffin?”

  I take a deep breath and slowly exhale, realizing that Alpha, Beta, Gamma and I are going to have some unexpected company on our search. But as professionals, we’ll try to make the best of it, as if we had any other choice at the moment.

  “Of course I don’t mind,” I reply with a crooked smile while the dogs prance anxiously about, the three of them as eager to leave as I am to start our search.

  The Thin Man

  “Seek out the thin man behind a silk blanket.”

  “What kind of a clue is that?” I ask Mindy after she reads it aloud from the bottom of the map. “Thin man? Silk blanket? There has to be more information to go on than that.”

  Mindy looks at me with a scrunched up expression, and I conclude that she’s as puzzled as I am. Privately I’m glad, not wanting her to solve the very first clue before I do. Yet right now I am at a loss as to what it means, until I once again glance at the map.

  “Hey, there’s a small image to the right side of the first clue. It looks like a barn,” I tell her.

  “You’re right, Griffin. That might help us find this thin man, whoever he is. But first we have to find the barn, which could be anywhere. There are barns all over the place outside the city. Where would we even begin to look?”

  Then I slowly start to smile and Mindy notices, no doubt thinking that I may be on to something. Even Alpha, Beta and Gamma look up at me, pawing at my sneakers and the edge of the bench, the three of them ready to race off to anywhere and enjoy the cool, late autumn afternoon.

  “I know exactly where to go, Mindy!” I point to the image of the barn near the first clue. “This image is an exact copy of this one,” I tell her as I slide my finger up the map and point to a second barn image.

  “Excellent work, Griffin! I don’t know how I missed it,” she says before eyeing the other two clues. “And look here. An image of a pumpkin patch is next to the second clue. And next to the third clue is a tiny drawing of…” She looks up with a hint of unease. “…a cemetery.”

  I put on a brave face, trying to make light of the revelation. “Great. There’s no better place to hang around in on Halloween night than a graveyard, right?”

  Mindy smirks uneasily and then we both steer our gazes from the bottom of the map toward the top. There we find identical images of the pumpkin patch and cemetery near that second picture of the barn. The three images form a near perfect line from left to right across the page. Then my heart nearly skips a beat.

  “Look, Mindy,” I say, placing the tip of my finger upon the barn image before slowly moving it over to the pumpkin patch. “The barn isn’t far from the pumpkin patch, and from there it isn’t much farther to the cemetery,” I continue, pointing out the image of the graveyard. Then I slide my finger over just a little more to the right until it stops upon the large X. Mindy takes a deep breath and whispers.

  “They all lead to the Kensington Circle Corporation,” she says in a most serious tone.

  “Correction. They all lead us to the Kensington Circle Corporation,” I tell her. “The very place the Silver Swamp monster wants to lure me after solving its clues,” I add in ominous tones, raising an eyebrow. Mindy nods in agreement, seeming to set aside any fears for the moment. “And we’d better leave soon while we still have daylight left.”

  “All right,” she replies, standing up. “Lead the way, Griffin.”

  Ab
out fifteen minutes later we reach the west end of town. It is quiet and chilly. The sky is painted a deep blue color as the sun dips closer to the horizon. We soon turn left up a narrow country road as a few crickets lazily chirp in the browning fields on either side. Since this road runs parallel to one leading to the Kensington Circle Corporation, or what’s left of it, we are certain that we’ll eventually spot the barn indicated on the map.

  And sure enough, just as Alpha, Beta and Gamma stop to drink from a small stream along one side of the road, Mindy and I spot the barn sitting off in the distance in the field to our right. It appears tired and weather-beaten, slouching in the fading orange glow of sunlight.

  “It looks abandoned,” Mindy says while adjusting her knit cap in a soft breeze. “Or at least I hope it is.” She looks at me for confirmation.

  “I believe you’re right, so I don’t think anyone will mind if we take a quick look. If we cross right here into the field, we’ll be there in no time.”

  I clap my hands and point the way, and quickly Alpha, Beta and Gamma race into the brittle grass and weeds as Mindy and I follow, heading for the barn across the uneven terrain. A few minutes later we approach the structure from the back side and then cautiously walk around to the front. Even the dogs slow down as if sensing trouble ahead. A short distance beyond the barn and past another small plot of tall grass and overgrown weeds is the very pumpkin patch depicted on my map. A straw scarecrow affixed to a long wooden pole silently stands guard over the field.

  “There’s our next stop,” I point out, indicating the large field of pumpkins. “But first to the barn.”

  The barn’s large double door, dried out from years of exposure to the sun, its faded brown paint peeling away, is kept closed by a plank of wood lodged behind two metal holders fastened to each door. Mindy and I cautiously glance at one another before we each take hold of opposite ends of the plank and remove it from the door, setting it aside in some weeds.