Reading Time: 1 minute
Hazel rattled the gate.
“Don’t do that,” her little brother scolded. “The bees’ll come.”
“The Beezle?” She mocked back. “Is that a monster?”
“No,” he replied frowning. “The bees in those boxes. They’ll sting us.”
Hazel peered at the cubes standing in the yard. Maybe they were hives. Maybe someone dressed in white coveralls and a mask collected honey every morning. She’d never seen them. Her whole life the place stood empty.
“You better just hush up or the Beezle’s gonna get you!”
In the windowless basement of the abandoned mansion, as if manifested by a magic word, something stirred.