Hardy Detective Agency featuring Hardy Boys Fan Fiction

(AN-sorry for the shortness of this chapter, but it was necessary. Hopefully later chapters will be longer, but if not, that should be fine, as long as everything is said eventually, right? Anyway, sorry for the length, but hopefully the next one will be better. Liz)

“I’m gonna get you back, I gotta see this through. Gonna get you back, if it’s the last thing I do.” --Get You Back

***

Isabella was scared. No, scared wasn’t a strong enough word. She was petrified.

She had known from the beginning that it was a mistake to let Frank in on her secret. But when he told her he knew about her relationship with Tristen, she thought she had no choice. But apparently, someone had found out about her confession.

However, the more she thought about it, the more absurd that idea sounded. For even though she had been warned about not telling a soul about the operation of the Red Dragon, she realized that there was no way that a gang member could have known she had told him so soon...unless he had been already planning on taking her as she walked out of the dorm, and now they were even angrier because of her declaration.

She shuddered in the cold, dark basement of the building she was being held in, but it wasn’t from cold. It was from fear. Icy fear that tore through her body, gnawed at her bones, and cut deep into her skin. She knew what happened to people who quit the gang. She knew what torture and pain was inflicted on those who told about the Red Dragon. She had seen it.

It started out simple. The victim was bound and placed in a small basement—under the large, vacant gym that had been taken over by the gang years ago, when the place had been deserted. Graffiti covered the exterior of the building, and lined the brick walls of the alleys beside it.

Then the prisoner was deprived of food. After five days of no food, and hardly any water, the beating began. The helpless captive was hit repeatedly with a whip, then cut and burned...and then, after three days of this horrible treatment, the near-dead detainee was shot until dead. The body was then disposed of, being thrown into the river and washed away forever. It was after witnessing this horrific scene, Isabella quit, swearing never to tell her secret, terrified of the same thing being done to her.

But she was blinded by love, and now, lying helpless in the basement of doom, bound hand and foot, and a gag jammed in her mouth, the girl knew she had made a mistake.

Her only hope now was that somehow, Frank had miraculously heard her scream as she was grabbed by the mask man and whisked away.

‘But even if he did,’ Isabella thought ruefully, ‘why would he come for me? He doesn’t really love me—he’s so angry at me for lying to him.’

She mentally shook herself. Whether Frank was still angry with her or not, she had come to know the sensitive, passionate person he really was, and had faith that, had he heard her chilling scream of terror, he would find her.

Isabella had no idea who her captor was. At first, she wasn’t even sure that it was one of the Red Dragon, but when she saw the gym, she knew what had happened, and what awaited her there.

Isabella recalled her thoughts as she had stalked out of Frank’s dorm, a mob of jumbled emotions attacking her very being. When she felt a hand on her shoulder, the girl had spun around, only to find herself face to face with a masked figure. The man, dressed in all black, had prodded a knife into her back and she had screamed in terror. He had covered her mouth and dragged her to his car and was just speeding off as Frank and Joe rushed outside.

Once in the car, another associate of the masked foe, also wearing a mask, had bound Isabella hand and foot, put a gag in her mouth, and shoved her down into the back seat. Then they had driven a long ways, only to stop at the deserted gym. Isabella had been carried into the dark interior of the foreboding basement before being left alone to ponder her nightmare.

Her captor had not yet returned, and the terrified feeling in the pit of Isabella’s stomach was just dying down into a sickening uneasiness when the door to the basement swung open.

Isabella stared in shock at the young man who had kidnapped her. Dressed in black jeans with massive chains hanging down past his knees, and a muscle shirt with a rebel flag covering the fabric, with an ugly scowl on his face and murderous look in his fierce eyes, stood Tristen Honeycutt.

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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.