College Weekend by R.L. Stine

with the top lock.
    Turn to the left? No.
    The right? Come on! Open up! Please!
    Turn right? It must be to the right.
    Open up, she pleaded. Open! Open!
    The dead bolt snapped back. “Yes!”
    She turned the knob again. The door didn’t open.
    Her heart pounded. Her hands shook.
    â€œBe right out!” Chris yelled from the darkroom. “I’m checking on something.”
    One of the locks was still locked.
    But which one? Which one?
    She turned one. Then another.
    Finally she pushed the door open.
    I can’t run in this dress, she realized.
    Tina rushed into the gloomy hallway.
    I have to get it off. She unbuttoned it as she ran.
    Down the hall.
    â€œOh!” she cried out as a sharp pain jabbed her bare foot.
    A jagged shard of glass.
    Bending, she yanked it free. Blood flowed onto the dirty carpet.
    Her foot hurt a lot, but she knew she had to keep going.
    Don’t stop, she told herself. No time now. Just get out.
    Gasping for breath, she hobbled to the outer door. Only a few feet.
    Her hands gripped the doorknob.
    Locked! The outer door was locked, too!
    The keys. Where were the keys?
    Back in Chris’s studio.
    I’ll go back inside, she decided. I’ll pretend this didn’t happen. Chris must still be in the darkroom.
    She turned back, desperate to get the keys and get out of here.
    She turned toward the studio—and bumped into Chris.
    His face was twisted in a furious scowl.
    â€œWhere do you think you’re going, Judy?” he demanded.
    â€œChris—I—I …” Tina sputtered. “Really, Chris. I have to go. This modeling just isn’t for me. It’s not your fault, but I just feel so self-conscious. And the lights … I—I … can’t take the lights …. Please, Chris … Let me go!”
    â€œCome back, Judy,” he snarled. “Come back. I don’t want to have to kill you again!”

chapter 16
    H uh? Kill me? Tina thought, gripped with horror.
    Wasn’t Judy’s death an accident?
    Panic seized her chest. A cold sweat drenched her body. “Let go of me!” she cried.
    Chris ignored her plea. He twisted her arm.
    She stared into his eyes. Hatred. More hatred than she had ever seen in anyone’s face.
    Chris pushed her down the hallway. Back into the studio.
    â€œPlease—” she cried. “Please, Chris!”
    No one knows where I am, she thought. No one.
    Chris backed her toward the prop table. He gave her a hard shove. Her back hit the sharp thorns of the cactus. She heard the dress rip. The thorns pressed into her skin. “Did I hurt you?” he cried, breathing noisily.
    Tina bit down on her lip.
    â€œThat’s a good expression,” he told her, his eyes wild. “I like it. Keep it. Let me get a shot.”
    Good. Go for your camera, she thought. Then I can make another run for it.
    But he didn’t look for a camera. Instead he made a circle with his fingers and raised it to his eyes. He stared at her through the pretend lens, pretending to focus.
    â€œWe made such a good couple. Why did you have to ruin everything?” he demanded. “Why? Answer me, Judy!”
    He spun her around. Then he yanked her arm behind her back. He brought his other arm around her neck.
    Tina could barely breathe. What was he going to do next?
    â€œCome on, Judy,” Chris rasped. “Don’t fight it this time.”
    Tina kicked him in the leg. She swung her head back, bumping him in the teeth.
    He laughed.
    She smashed her bare foot against his ankle.
    He laughed again. Such crazy, cruel laughter.
    â€œLet me go!” she shrieked. “I’m not Judy!”
    But she knew he wasn’t listening now.
    He wrapped his arm tighter around her neck. She sank her teeth into his skin.
    â€œOww!” he cried out. He loosened his grip.
    With a desperate cry she wrenched herself free.
    But he tackled her and threw her down on the floor. Her cheek slammed into the