"GHOULS NIGHT OUT"
HALLOWEEN 2007 HARDY BOYS CONTEST ENTRY
WHO MOVED MY FRANKENSTEIN?
by
Author D
Chapter 2
The Chapters
What happened again?
Frankenstein Change.
There was a blinding flash of light, followed by an overwhelming sense of vertigo.
Then he was running, running, running, until he ran crashed into something hard and rough. He bounced backwards and landed on the ground on his butt with a thud.
He groaned in pain.
He felt disoriented and definitely nauseous. He stifled an urge to throw up.
Where am I? Eighteen year old dark-haired, dark-eyed Frank Hardy wondered.
Something flashed. It could be lightning. A thunderous roar followed. He was right. That was lightning. Around him the wind howled and wailed, but his rubbery suit of a costume kept him warm.
Strange, he did not remember the weather being that bad when he started the Halloween competition with his younger brother, Joe.
He heard noises coming from a distance behind him. He turned and gaped at the scene that confronted him. There was a mob marching towards him chanting menacingly as they neared. And before he could even figure out what was happening, they had him surrounded and cut off all his escape routes.
They were all glaring at him and calling him names.
"Abomination of God!" one voice shouted.
"Demon's Spawn!" another spat at him.
"Ghoul!" screamed yet another guttural voice.
The name calling continued as Frank stared at them in total disbelief and shock. Granted he was dressed as Frankenstein's monster, but it was, after all, for a special Halloween Fun and Games night organized by Bayport High.
Then his sharp eyes noted something else.
These people were strangely dressed in dull-colored rags. They looked worn and tired. They all carried a weird assortment of weapons. He could see shovels, spades, pitchforks, and even brooms.
A number of them were carrying torches. Not the electric battery operated kind, but the good old fire-burning-on-a-stick kind. The dull orange flames fluttered weakly against the night wind.
It was like I was catapulted back to medieval England… Frank thought.
He pinched himself, but sadly it did nothing but make himself yelp in pain. He was not dreaming, and that was bad.
I'm not in Bayport anymore, Frank realized, dazed.
But at least they were screaming English. Frank took comfort from that little fact. If they shared the same spoken language, they could communicate. If they could communicate, there was hope.
He returned his attention to the lynch mob before him. From the anger and hatred in their dark beady eyes, he could tell that they were out for his blood.
"Hey! I'm not a monster, I'm in costume!" Frank tried to explain as he struggled to extricate himself from his green rubbery Frankenstein body suit.
Unfortunately for Frank, his protests were lost in the angry and fearful mutterings of the mob before him.
More unfortunately, his actions appeared to agitate the crowd further.
What happened next? He could not be certain. Perhaps the crowd misunderstood his actions and decided simply to move in for the kill. Or perhaps someone instigated the crowd to attack.
He only knew that time had run out for him.
The angry crowd pressed in closer, pitchforks and spades pointed threateningly at him. Desperate, Frank scanned his immediate surroundings for a way out of his so very unnatural but hopefully non-fatal predicament…
And his eyes spied an item that could possibly be his ticket to freedom.
Please, please let it work! Frank prayed as he frantically moved to make his bid to escape.
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Disclaimer
The Hardy Boys belong to Simon and Schuster and the Stratemeyer Foundation. The authors 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.