Dinkin Dings and the Double from Dimension 9 Read online

  Dinkin crossed his fingers, wished it was after midnight (so that The Frightening Things could be terrified alongside him), and looked in the mirror.

  “It’s . . . me,” he whispered, seeing his reflection staring back at him. There wasn’t a pair of glasses in sight.

  “You see? There is no double from Dimension . . . wherever,” said Mrs. Dings. “Now, we’ve had a nice day. Why don’t we end the day with some cookies and soda?”

  “Can the cookies be soaked in water to reduce the choking hazard?” asked Dinkin nervously. “And can the soda be flat to decrease brain-fizz?”

  “Absolutely,” smiled Mrs. Dings. She picked up the glasses and put them on the table. “You keep these for now, just in case. We’ll see you downstairs when you’re ready.”

  And with that, Mr. and Mrs. Dings made their way downstairs, leaving Dinkin alone. He felt so much better—there was no double from Dimension 9 . . . he was safe! He smiled and looked at himself in the mirror, one last time.

  “Looks like it wasn’t such a scary day, after all,” he said, staring at his reflection.

  “Don’t be too sure,” replied his reflection, and put its glasses back on.

  DINKIN, MEET DANGER

  Dinkins: 1

  Dangers: 1

  Other names mentioned

  (beginning with D): 7

  Dinkin froze in terror as his bespectacled double burst into laughter!

  “Ha! That was great! You should have seen the look on your face!” The reflection stepped forward, still chuckling. Much to Dinkin’s horror, the mirror rippled like a pool of water as the reflection stepped out of the mirror and into the room! He stood face-to-face with Dinkin, an exact duplicate . . . except for a pair of glasses.

  “D-d-double . . . ,” muttered a trembling Dinkin.

  “You know, I often wondered whether my mirror was a doorway to another dimension,” said Dinkin’s living reflection, glancing back at the mirror. “Then all of a sudden, I’m looking in the mirror and what do I see? Your face staring back at me! An exact double! Except for my stylish eyewear, of course. I guess all it took was for us both to look in the mirror at exactly the same time, and the doorway between our dimensions opened.”

  “D-double . . . d-dimension . . . ,” stuttered Dinkin, paralyzed with fear.

  “What’s wrong with you? What are you so nervous about?” said the double. But by now, Dinkin was much too terrified to speak. “The name’s Danger,” continued the double. “Danger Duncan Dings. What’s yours?”

  “D-D-D-,” began Dinkin.

  “Wait, let me guess—Dean? Daniel? Darren? Derrick? Drummond?

  Dorian?” asked Danger.

  “D-Dinkin,” whimpered Dinkin.

  “Dinkin? That’s not even a real name,” said Danger. “Well, Dinkin, I don’t have time to stand around waiting for you to stop squeaking like a mouse—there are daring deeds that need to be done! Now, point me in the direction of something death defying before I die of boredom!”

  “D-d-death defying?” said Dinkin as Danger sauntered over to the window and looked out. “No, wait, you can’t! You have to go back! Don’t you see? When we looked at each other’s reflections, it activated the portal between your dimension and mine! The doorway is open! Who knows what other horrors might escape from Dimension 9!”

  “An open door to my dimension? No, we definitely can’t have that,” said Danger, checking his watch. He grabbed Dinkin’s bathrobe from the back of the chair and threw it over the mirror. “There! That should stop anything else from coming through for now . . . ”

  “M-my bathrobe? Are you sure that will be enough to—,” began Dinkin, but Danger’s mind was already on other things.

  “Hey, is that a bike on your porch?” he squealed, staring out the window.

  “Y-yeah,” muttered Dinkin. “My mom and dad bought it for my birthday.”

  “Why didn’t you mention this fifty-six seconds ago? It looks brand-new!” cried Danger. “I mangled mine the day I got it riding off the roof . . . ”

  “You rode it off the roof?” squealed Dinkin—and then it hit him. Danger was a mirror image of him, reversed in every way! He wasn’t scared of anything! Dinkin was 1.6 seconds through panicking about a fearless version of himself on the loose, when Danger raced out of the bedroom.

  “W-wait! Come back! You have to go back in the mirror!” cried Dinkin, but Danger was already halfway downstairs. This was disastrous! Why did his mirror have to turn into a dimensional portal, today of all days? And how was he going to persuade his duplicate to go back through? Dinkin hurried to the top of the stairs and peered over the banister as Danger strode into the kitchen and came face-to-face with Dinkin’s parents.

  “Are you all right, Dinkin? You look different somehow,” said Mrs. Dings.

  “He’s decided to give the Hidden Danger Detection Glasses another try, of course! Good for you, Dink,” said Mr. Dings.

  “Dinkin’s upstairs. I’m Danger,” said Danger. “Pleased to meet you, alternative dimension Mom and Dad.”

  “Just once, I’d like to have a normal day,” muttered Mrs. Dings, assuming this was just more of Dinkin’s “silliness.”

  “Can I borrow Dinkin’s bike? Can I, please?” said Danger.

  “What about your soda?” asked Mrs. Dings. “It’s nice and flat, just the way you like it.”

  “Flat soda? Yuck! I’d rather drink from the toilet! Which I would, if you dared me,” said Danger.

  “Ha! Those glasses are definitely still working,” laughed Mr. Dings. “Yesterday you were terrified of that bike . . . ”

  “Terrified? I’m not terrified of anything!” said Danger. “I’m Danger Dings. Danger by name, daring by nature.”

  And with that, he ran out of the house and leaped onto the bike. Upstairs, Dinkin heard his mom shout, “Dinkin! Be careful!” He dashed to the window to see Danger speeding down the road.

  “Oh no! He took the bike!” said Dinkin, tugging his hair. After another thirty-two seconds of panicking, he rushed downstairs to find his parents.

  “Back so soon?” said Mr. Dings as Dinkin ran into the kitchen. “You only just left.”

  “That wasn’t me, that was Danger!” cried Dinkin. “I was right all along—my reflection wasn’t my reflection at all . . . he’s a duplicate Dinkin named Danger! He came out of the mirror and now he’s on the loose ! We have to get him to go back and then close the doorway to Dimension 9!”

  “Why don’t we discuss it over some 38 cookies? They’ve been soaking in water for twenty minutes . . . ,” said Mrs. Dings, trying to be patient.

  Dinkin hopped nervously from foot to foot. It was obvious his parents simply couldn’t tell the difference between him and his other-dimensional duplicate. But he couldn’t get Danger back into the mirror without help.

  THIS WAS A JOB

  FOR THE

  FRIGHTENING THINGS!

  THE DANGER DILEMMA

  Number of burps: 1

  Number of The Frightening Things

  eaten: 2

  Number of times someone says

  “AAAAH!”: 6

  Dinkin spent the rest of the evening trying to convince his parents to help him look for Danger, but it soon became obvious they didn’t even think his double was real. In the end, Dinkin gave up and waited until midnight. His parents had been in bed for more than an hour when Dinkin took the Ancient Summoning Parchment from under the Ancient Summoning Mattress, assumed the Ancient Summoning Position, and spoke the Ancient Summoning Chant: “Frightening Things, Frightening Things

  Creep from the gloom,

  Crawl from the shadows and into my room,

  Frightening Things, Frightening Things

  Come to my aid,

  Save me from danger (and being afraid!).”

  Four-and-a-half seconds later, Dinkin heard a familiar growl from under his bed, and Herbert the monster crawled out. The scaly, green creature dragged himself sleepily to his feet and stretched his claws and
tail.

  “Where are the others, Herbert?” asked Dinkin.

  “This is an emergency!”

  Herbert looked around, a little confused, and then held his belly. There was a low, rumbling sound, like a volcano about to erupt, and then . . .

  Herbert let out an enormous belch, and Edgar and Arthur shot out of his mouth!

  “AAAAAH!” screamed Dinkin as Edgar crashed to the floor, sending his head flying underneath Dinkin’s dresser. Arthur the ghost was catapulted through the outside wall, only to reappear 1.6 seconds later.

  “Eww!” he squealed, spinning around. “I’ve been eaten! Herbert, you . . . you . . . monster!”

  “What’s going on?” said Dinkin, retrieving Edgar’s head and reattaching it to his body.

  “That pea-brained beast ate us!” cried Edgar’s head. “Swallowed us whole while we weren’t looking!”

  “Sorry about that,” said Herbert, yawning and exposing a mouth full of sharp, yellow teeth. “I must have been sleep-eating again.” “Sleep-eating?” repeated Dinkin.

  “That scale-bellied, greedy guts can’t even stop eating when he’s unconscious,” moaned Edgar. “I’m pretty sure there’s a lampshade and two pairs of socks in that bottomless pit he calls a stomach.”

  “I can’t help it,” said Herbert. “Eating and sleeping are my main priorities. After panicking, that is.”

  “I can’t tell what’s ectoplasm and what’s monster slobber!” cried Arthur, trying to wring Herbert’s saliva out of his rear end. “Honestly, the amount of drool he generates is nothing short of terrifying.”

  “Well, I bet it’s not as terrifying as Danger Dings, the double from Dimension 9!” cried Dinkin.

  “AAAA-AA-AH!” screamed The Frightening Things.

  “N-not Dimension 9!” wailed Arthur. “Um, which one’s Dimension 9?”

  “Do you know, I’m not quite sure . . . is it the time-goes-backward dimension?” replied Edgar.

  “No, no, no, that’s Dimension 15! Honestly, am I the only one who knows about Dimension 9?” said Dinkin, and he grabbed a large, thick notebook from his shelf. On its cover were the words:

  “AAAAAAAAAH! Not Volume Two!” screamed The Frightening Things together.

  Dinkin’s Secret History of the Terrifying covered almost every aspect of his terrors, dilemmas, fears, and phobias. Dinkin nervously opened the book to the first page.

  He turned to the contents page.

  Dinkin skipped to chapter five and read aloud:

  “AAAAAH!” screamed The Frightening Things again.

  “Exactly!” said Dinkin. “But wait, there’s more . . . ”

  One hour and twenty-nine minutes later (there was quite a lot more screaming), Dinkin had explained all about his Danger dilemma—about the glasses, the mirror, and the terrifyingly fearless (and currently missing) Dinkin duplicate.

  “So, he’s really not afraid of anything?” said Herbert.

  “No! And he’s been gone all night! On my bike! Who knows if he’s even still alive!

  He could be in a ditch somewhere with the bike chain wrapped around his neck . . . which means we’ll never get him back in the mirror! And every second he’s here is another second the dimensional doorway is left open!”

  That moment, a small stone bounced off Dinkin’s bedroom window.

  “AAAAH!” screamed The Frightening Things. “Meteor shower!”

  Dinkin and The Frightening Things searched for somewhere to take cover, but after two more stones had hit the window, Dinkin made a desperate dash for his bed to retrieve his comet-slowing De-meteorizer (a whisk with three bendy straws wrapped around it) from under his pillow. He crept nervously up to the window and peered out.

  There, on the front lawn, was Danger Dings, throwing dirt from the driveway up at the window. Dinkin was so relieved to see his bespectacled double that he opened the window and stuck his head out.

  “Danger! Where have you been?” cried Dinkin.

  “Where haven’t I been?” laughed Danger. He shimmied up the drainpipe as if he was climbing a ladder, scrambled onto the windowsill and swung effortlessly into Dinkin’s room. He was soaking wet and covered in leaves, dirt, cuts, and bruises.

  “What happened? Are you all right? You’ve been gone for ages! Did my bike attack you?” asked Dinkin.

  “Your bike? I smashed that up hours ago trying to jump over a trailer. And then I dodged traffic on the freeway, chased after a herd of cows, and took a swim in the local reservoir. Oh, and then I found a spider and let it crawl all over my hand! What a night!” said Danger, taking off his damp socks and wringing them out.

  “A spider? Wow, he really is brave . . . ,” said Herbert. Danger spun round. The Frightening Things were huddled in a corner. They smiled nervously and each gave a little wave.

  “AAAAH!” screamed Danger, louder than anyone had screamed all night! “Get them away from me! Save me, Dinkin! Save me!” “Okay, maybe he’s not that brave,” said Herbert.

  HOW TO DEAL WITH DANGER

  Actual time: 02:10 AM

  “Dinkin” time: ten past terror

  The Frightening Things stared in disbelief as Dinkin’s so-called fearless double shrieked in terror and tried to climb back out of the window!

  “AAAA-AAH! They’re after me! HELP!” screamed Danger.

  “Wait! Danger, it’s all right! I summoned them. They’re my friends!” cried Dinkin.

  “Don’t let them get me! Somebody, please help!” squealed Danger, already halfway out of the window. “W-wait a minute, did you say friends?”

  “Yeah! This is Herbert, Edgar, and Arthur—The Frightening Things. I summoned them here,” said Dinkin. Danger clambered slowly back into the room. He saw that the mirror was still covered and breathed a small sigh of relief. He edged cautiously toward The Frightening Things and inspected them carefully.

  “Hey, you’re not . . . You’re not frightening at all!” he said in amazement.

  “Well excuu-use us,” said Edgar. “You try being frightening after spending half the night in a monster’s mouth . . . ”

  “Ha! Sorry . . . for a moment I thought you were someone else,” said Danger. He gave Herbert a poke in the belly and wafted his hand through Arthur’s face. “But you’re not, are you? You’re not them!”

  “Them? Them who?” asked Dinkin. “What were you so afraid of?”

  “Afraid? Who’s afraid? I’m not afraid of anything!” replied Danger, leaping onto the bed and bouncing off into the air. He landed on Herbert’s shoulders and began riding him around the room. “I’m Danger Dings! Danger by name, daring by nature!”

  Danger spent the rest of the night entertaining everyone with stories of his courageous feats. Dinkin tried his best to persuade Danger to go back to Dimension 9, but Danger was having way too much fun in this dimension to even consider it. The Frightening Things, too, seemed to forget the horror of having an open dimensional door in the bedroom. In fact, they all seemed extremely impressed by Danger’s tales of fear-flouting fun.

  “No way! So you really once jumped off the roof of your house into a swimming pool?” asked Herbert.

  “And you really climbed onto the top of a telephone pole wearing nothing but a bathing suit?” added Edgar.

  “And you really rode Dinkin’s bike? With no hands or anything?” asked Arthur.

  “All true!” laughed Danger. “Hey, that’s me—Danger by name . . . ”

  “Daring by nature!” said The Frightening Things gleefully, but a moment later, they began to fade. Dinkin stared out the window as the sun began to rise over the rooftops.

  “That’s it for another night—sorry, Dinkin. Stay safe . . . Oh, and terrifying to meet you, Danger,” said Edgar, and with that, The Frightening Things disappeared, leaving Dinkin alone with his disturbingly devil-may-care dimensional duplicate.

  “Well, I suppose you’ll be wanting to go back where you came from, too,” began Dinkin hopefully. “Back to your own dimension . . . ”

  �
��You’re not still going on about that, are you?” said Danger. “I’m not going anywhere—I like it much better here. If you’re so concerned, why don’t you go through the mirror?”

  “WHAT? No way! Who knows what new terrors might await me in Dimension 9! My life’s scary enough as it is! I’ve got to get through breakfast, brushing my teeth, getting dressed—not to mention a whole day of school!”

  “You’re scared of school?” asked Danger.

  “Of course! School is terrifying!” replied Dinkin. “It’s the eleventh most terrifying place in the world, just after shark cages and petting zoos! And with all this Dimension 9 business, I haven’t even had time to reinforce my Playground Protection Pants or charge the Emergency Lunch Launcher 2.1 or mix up a new batch of Bully-B-Gone repellent spray! I’m doomed!”

  “School isn’t terrifying!” said Danger. “And it’s definitely better than being stuck at home all day. At least there’s a slim chance you might get to do something daring.”

  Dinkin couldn’t believe what he was hearing! How could Danger, or anyone, actually want to go to school? Then (3.8 seconds later), an idea occurred to him. It was such a brilliantly, fear-avoidingly phenomenal idea that Dinkin had to try hard not to clap his hands together with excitement.

  “You know, you could go to school for me,” he said, trying to sound casual. “I mean, if you think you can handle all the terrifyingness.”

  “What? Of course I could! I can handle anything! But are you sure you don’t mind?” said Danger, his bespectacled eyes lighting up.