ONCE UPON A TIME,
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not so long ago, a monster came to the small town of Castle Rock, Maine. He killed a waitress named Alma Frechette in 1970; a woman named Pauline Toothaker and a junior high school student named Cheryl Moody in 1971; a pretty girl named Carol Dunbarger in 1974; a teacher named Etta Ring-gold in the fall of 1975; finally, a grade-schooler named Mary Kate Hendrasen in the early winter of that same year.
He was not werewolf, vampire, ghoul, or unnameable creature from the enchanted forest or from the snowy wastes; he was only a cop named Frank Dodd with mental and sexual problems. A good man named John Smith uncovered his name by a kind of magic, but before he could be captured—perhaps it was just as well—Frank Dodd killed himself.
There was some shock, of course, but mostly there was rejoicing in that small town, rejoicing because the monster which had haunted so many dreams was dead, dead at last. A town’s nightmares were buried in Frank Dodd’s grave.
Yet even in this enlightened age, when so many parents are aware of the psychological damage they may do to their children, surely there was one parent somewhere in Castle Rock—or perhaps one grandmother—who quieted the kids by telling them that Frank Dodd would get them if they didn’t watch out, if they weren’t good. And surely a hush fell as children looked toward their dark windows and thought of Frank Dodd in his shiny black vinyl raincoat, Frank Dodd who had choked . . . and choked . . . and choked.
He’s out there, I can hear the grandmother whispering as the wind whistles down the chimney pipe and snuffles around the old pot lid crammed in the stove hole. He’s out there, and if you’re not good, it may be his face you see looking in your bedroom window after everyone in the house is asleep except you; it may be his smiling face you see peeking at you from the closet in the middle of the night, the STOP sign he held up when he crossed the little children in one hand, the razor he used to kill himself in the other . . . so shhh, children . . . shhh . . . shhhh.
But for most, the ending was the ending. There were nightmares to be sure, and children who lay wakeful to be sure, and the empty Dodd house (for his mother had a stroke shortly afterwards and died) quickly gained a reputation as a haunted house and was avoided; but these were passing phenomena—the perhaps unavoidable side effects of a chain of senseless murders.
But time passed. Five years of time.
The monster was gone, the monster was dead. Frank Dodd moldered inside his coffin.
Except that the monster never dies. Werewolf, vampire, ghoul, unnameable creature from the wastes. The monster never dies.
It came to Castle Rock again in the summer of 1980.
Tad Trenton, four years old, awoke one morning not long after midnight in May of that year, needing to go to the bathroom. He got out of bed and walked half asleep toward the white light thrown in a wedge through the half-open door, already lowering his pajama pants. He urinated forever, flushed, and went back to bed. He pulled the covers up, and that was when he saw the creature in his closet.
Low to the ground it was, with huge shoulders bulking above its cocked head, its eyes amber-glowing pits—a thing that might have been half man, half wolf. And its eyes rolled to follow him as he sat up, his scrotum crawling, his hair standing on end, his breath a thin winter-whistle in his throat: mad eyes that laughed, eyes that promised horrible death and the music of screams that went unheard; something in the closet
He heard its purring growl; he smelled its sweet carrion breath.
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Tad Trenton clapped his hands to his eyes, hitched in breath, and screamed.
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A muttered exclamation in another room—his father.
A scared cry of “What was that?” from the same room—his mother.
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Their footfalls, running. As they came in, he peered through his fingers and saw it there in the closet, snarling, promising dreadfully that they might come, but they would surely go, and that when they did—
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The light went on. Vic and Donna Trenton came to his bed, exchanging a look of concern over his chalky face and his staring eyes, and his mother said—no, snapped, “I told you three hot dogs was too many, Vic!”
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
ONCE UPON A TIME,
a cognizant original v5 release november 13 2010
His Bite Is Worse Than His Bark . . .
CUJO
It happens innocently enough, but doesn't it always. A big, friendly dog chases a rabbit into a hidden underground cave--and stirs a sleeping evil crueler than death itself.
A terrified four-year-old boy sees his bedroom closet door swing open untouched by human hands, and screams at the unholy red eyes gleaming in the darkness.
The little Maine town of Castle Rock is about to be invaded by the most hideous menace ever to savage the flesh and devour the mind.
'Hits the jugular.'
--New York Times
AMERICA LOVES
THE BACHMAN BOOKS
'Fascinating.'
--Philadelphia Inquirer
CARRIE
'Horrifying.'
--Chicago Tribune
CHRISTINE
'Riveting.'
--Playboy
CUJO
'Gut-wrenching.'
--Newport News Daily Press
THE DARK HALF
'Scary.'
--Kirkus Reviews
THE DARK TOWER: THE GUNSLINGER
'Brilliant.'
--Booklist
THE DARK TOWER II: THE DRAWING OF THE THREE
'Superb.'
--Chicago Herald-Wheaton
THE DARK TOWER III: THE WASTE LANDS
'Gripping.'
--Chicago Sun-Times
THE DEAD ZONE
'Frightening.'
--Cosmopolitan
DIFFERENT SEASONS
'Hypnotic.'
--New York Times Book Review
DOLORES CLAIBORNE
'Unforgettable.'
--San Francisco Chronicle
THE EYES OF THE DRAGON
'Masterful.'
--Cincinnati Post
FIRESTARTER
'Terrifying.'
--Miami Herald
STEPHEN KING
FOUR PAST MIDNIGHT
'Chilling.'
Milwaukee Journal
GERALD'S GAME
'Terrific.'
--USA Today
IT
'Mesmerizing.'
--Washington Post Book World
MISERY
'Wonderful.'
--Houston Chronicle
NEEDFUL THINGS
'Demonic.'
--Kirkus Reviews
NIGHT SHIFT
'Macabre.'
--Dallas Times-Herald
PET SEMATARY
'Unrelenting.'
--Pittsburgh Press
'SALEM'S LOT
'Tremendous.'
--Kirkus Reviews
THE SHINING
'Spellbinding.'
--Pittsburgh Press
SKELETON CREW
'Diabolical.'
--Associates Press
THE STAND
'Great.'
--New York Times Book Review
THINNER
'Extraordinary.'
--Booklist
THE TOMMYKNOCKERS
'Marvelous.'
--Boston Globe
WORKS BY STEPHEN KING
NOVELS
Carrie
'Salem's Lot
The Shining
The Stand
The Dead Zone
Firestarter
Cujo
THE DARK TOWER I:
The Gunslinger
Christine
Pet Sematary
Cycle of the Werewolf
The Talisman
(with Peter Straub)
It
The Eyes of the Dragon
Misery
The Tommyknockers
THE DARK TOWER II:
The Drawing
of the Three
THE DARK TOWER III:
The Waste Lands
The Dark Half
Needful Things
Gerald's Game
Dolores Claiborne
Insomnia
Rose Madder
Desperation
The Green Mile
THE DARK TOWER IV:
Wizard and Glass
Bag of Bones
The Girl Who Loved Tom
Gordon
Dreamcatcher
Black House
(with Peter Straub)
From a Buick 8
AS RICHARD BACHMAN
Rage
The Long Walk
Roadwork
The Running Man
Thinner
The Regulators
COLLECTIONS
Night Shift
Different Seasons
Skeleton Crew
Four Past Midnight
Nightmares and
Dreamscapes
Hearts in Atlantis
Everything's Eventual
NONFICTION
Danse Macabre
On Writing
SCREENPLAYS
Creepshow
Cat's Eye
Silver Bullet
Maximum Overdrive
Pet Sematary
Golden Years
Sleepwalkers
The Stand
The Shining
Rose Red
Storm of the Century
SIGNET
Published by New American Library, a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
Penguin Ireland, 25 St. Stephen's Green, Dublin 2,
Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)
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Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)
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Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices:
80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL. England
First Signet Printing, June 1982
First Printing ($4.99 edition), November
Copyright (c) Stephen King. 1981
eISBN : 978-1-10113806-9
All rights reserved
Grateful acknowledgment is made to the following for permission to reprint copyrighted material: Ice Nine Publishing Company. Portions of text from the song 'Sugaree,' words by Robert Hunter, music by Jerry Garcia. Copyright (c) Ice Nine Publishing Company, 1971. All rights reserved.
Random House, Inc. An excerpt from 'Musee des Beaux Arts' copyright W. H. Auden, 1940 and copyright (c) renewed 1968. Reprinted from W. H. Auden: Collected Poems by W. H. Auden, edited by Edward Mendelson.
REGISTERED TRADEMARK--MARCA REGISTRADA
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
PUBLISHER'S NOTE
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establi