Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

He padded softly down the hall and knocked on the door of his son’s bedroom. No answer came forth. He put his ear to the door, but heard nothing. He turned the handle and opened the door, peering inside. Reaching for the switch on the wall, he was not surprised when the room remained in darkness.

Ever since he’d come home from the hospital, Danny had kept to himself, often locked in his room for hours at a time. He rarely came out in the daytime at all. When he left his room, he would ignore Ivan and head out into the night, not returning until just before dawn.

Ivan avoided his son’s darkened room. The one time he’d tried to enter, Danny had shrieked like an animal. Ivan hadn’t been in the room since. He suspected the boy’s mind was destroyed by years of drug abuse.

"Where are you tonight?" Ivan asked out loud. He went to the kitchen for a flashlight, and then returned to his son’s room. He turned it on and let the light fill the small room.

"Oh God, Danny. What have you done?"

On the wall were enlarged photos. Each photo showed the body of a young woman or young man, hands nailed to an undefined surface. Their faces contorted in pain and terror.

* * *

As the state troopers and reservists entered Reedville from the highway to the east, Fenton Hardy and Srgt. Hank Clayton were running along the main street from the fields to the south. They all converged on the main square within minutes of one another.

Srgt. Clayton and Capt. Carpenter began discussing the situation, while Fenton slowly gravitated toward the church building, smoke billowing out the devastated south wall.

It was obvious to the detective that the crash had come from there and that was most likely where he’s find his sons. He glanced back as the two officers were assigning their men to search the area.

Fenton Hardy’s gut instinct was telling him that his sons were in immediate danger and he wasn’t about to wait for the Army or the State Police to give him permission to find his boys.

Clayton caught sight of Mr. Hardy as the man ran toward the partially collapsed church. He shouted orders to his men to stop Fenton from entering, afraid the structure would collapse and trap the detective.

Fenton heard the order and propelled himself closer to the church, just as he heard someone yelling from inside the building. Seconds late, a scream of pain erupted from within. Fenton recognized the voices and prayed that he wasn’t too late. He pulled the church doors opened, and reached for the small revolver strapped to his ankle.

* * *

Frank gritted his teeth against the pain and forced himself toward the front of the church, hanging on to the broken pews and pieces of debris. Deep down, he knew he’d never reach his brother in time, yet he wasn’t about to give up trying.

"No, God, please, no!" He cried through clenched teeth as he watched the man pull Joe’s limp form up the steps and onto the platform.

The man in black angrily kicked the small pulpit and the Bible off the platform. He kicked the candle stands, sending hot wax flying down the steps. The flames from the candles licked hungrily at the scattered wood and other flammable materials that littered the church floor.

Frank staggered forward, now choking on the smoke as well as fighting the growing pain in his leg. He watched in horror as the flames moved through the debris toward the Chevy in the center of the room.

Frank moved as fast as his wounded body allowed, trying to get to the front of the church. With his good leg, he kicked away some of the burning pieces of wooden pews that stood between him and the steps to the platform.

The older Hardy brother reached the steps and looked up, right into the eyes of a deranged killer. The man was grinning evilly.

‘Judas’ knelt behind Joe, who he’d laid out flat on the platform, the younger Hardy’s arms stretched out wide on either side of his body. The man picked up the discarded hammer Frank had used earlier, and pulled two nails, ¾ inch thick and about 6 inches long, from his back pocket.

"Glad you could be here to watch," the man hissed in Frank’s direction. Frank felt the world stop as he watched the man place a large nail in the palm of Joe’s left hand.

"NO-O-O-O-O!" Frank cried, stretching himself to grab the man’s right hand.

Frank closed his eyes as Joe’s scream tore through the church. Joe’s body jerked as the man landed a second blow, driving the nail into the wooden platform under Joe’s hand.

Frank pushed ‘Judas’ away from his brother, keeping a grip on the man’s right wrist. But Frank was far too weak and injured to be of much affect and ‘Judas’ easily pushed the dark-haired youth aside.

Joe reflectively reached for his impaled hand, trying to free it. His head was swimming in a mire of pain and he couldn’t focus. As unconsciousness threatened to overpower him again, he felt someone pulling his right arm taunt.

Frank struggled to his knees, and ignoring the pain, dove on top of the man in black before he could pierce Joe’s other hand.

* * *

Fenton Hardy fought his way through the smoldering debris, the Army reservists now joining the effort. The State Troopers secured the perimeter of the building, while Capt. Carpenter called on his radio for the Scranton fire department.

Breaking through, Fenton and the reservists were shocked at the sight before them. Not hesitating another second, the soldiers trained their weapons on the struggling figures on the front platform of the church.

"Frank! Get down!" Fenton cried.

Frank fell back, having heard his father’s voice. He watched ‘Judas’ raise the hammer to drive the nail into Joe’s right hand.

‘Stop him, please stop him,’ Frank silently cried.

"Freeze!" shouted Srgt. Clayton, "Drop the hammer and move away from that boy now!"

The blond man looked up at the dozen or so men in green fatigues and smiled. "Fill me now, my brother!" He shouted, bringing the hammer down swiftly.

Frank Hardy closed his eyes as the staccato sound of machine gun fire filled his ears. He felt, rather than watched, the man in black drop down beside him on the platform.

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Disclaimer

The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The Hardy Boys Fan Fiction authors of the Hardy Detective Agency have just borrowed them for an adventure or two. The authors promise to put the boys back when they are done with them. The authors do claim copyright to the original characters in this story. Please do not borrow original characters without express permission of the authors.