hardy boys fan fiction
HOLE IN THE WORLD
hardy boys nancy drew fan fiction
by
Medieval Liz
Chapter 14
hardy boys fan fiction
THE CHAPTERS
Wednesday, April 10, 1:15am
Frank lay awake on his bed, his arms tucked underneath his head. He had been awake for more than an hour now and still wasn’t able to fall back asleep. He would have liked to get out of bed, but he knew if he did he’d wake up someone else and he didn’t want that. Someone deserved to get a good nights sleep, and if it wasn’t him it should be his family. They’d lost enough sleep over him lately.
Instead, he just lay in his bed staring at his ceiling, or the lamp that was turned on next to his bed, wondering if he was ever going to sleep again. The lamp flickered, and with a quiet pop it went out.
“Great,” Frank’s whispered groan echoed in his room. He tossed the blankets off and started to get out of bed when he heard something in the room. He stopped.
something’s wrong, shut the light
heavy thoughts tonight
and they aren’t of snow white
A shadow in the darkness drifted across the room and Frank felt a chill creep up his arms. His heart began to pound in his chest. “Joe, that you?”
dreams of war, dreams of liars
dreams of dragon’s fire
and of things that will bite
It wasn’t Joe.
sleep with one eye open
gripping your pillow tight
It merged out of the darkness, coming at Frank so quickly he couldn’t even scream as it pushed him back onto the bed. The skull white face glowed brightly, illuminating the room. The lips curled back from sharp, jagged teeth, as the Clown laughed mechanically.
“Miss me, Frankie-Boy?” The face hovered over him, talonned hands holding his wrists painfully tight over his head. “I told you I’d be back, Frankie-Boy!”
“No!” Frank moaned in free, struggling with all his might. “No!”
“Oooo YES!” Grey eyes widened with glee at the boy’s terror. “He lied to you, Frankie-Boy! Daddy dearest lied to you and now you’re all mine!”
“No, leave me alone! Dad! Help me!”
Still laughing menacingly, the Clown got up from the bed but the hands remained behind, holding Frank down. “Daddy can’t hear you, Frankie-Boy! No one can hear you!”
A third hand clawed its way across his face and clamped down over his mouth. He felt more hands moving down his legs, inching their way like giant spiders, where they gripped his ankles into place against the mattress. He was immobile again, helpless!
The clown moved around him, turning his head forcefully to the side. “Remember what else I told you, Frankie-Boy?”
The wall of his room dissolved. Frank screamed against the hand at the sight of his brother handcuffed to a bed in a violet light lit room.
“This is your fault, Frankie-Boy!” The Clown hissed in the boys ear as he sobbed. “Your fault!”
Joe turned his head to look at Frank, the younger boy’s face bloodied and bruised. Their eyes met across the abyss and Joe’s voice echoed as he said, “Your fault…”
There was an almost inaudible gasp from his lips as Frank’s eyes snapped open. His heart was thundering inside his chest and his face was wet with tears. The images of his dream clung to him and he leapt from his bed and to the door to the bathroom.
He didn’t bother with the light as he bent over the toilet and emptied his stomach.
“Your fault!”
Frank retched again, the tears still flowing down his cheek. When he had nothing left, he flushed the toilet and laid back. The tile floor was cold against his cheek and he squeezed his eyes shut, desperate to will the nightmarish sights and sounds from his mind.
Even with his eyes shut he could tell the light was turned on, and slowly he opened them. Joe was standing in the second door to the bathroom, the one that led to his room. His hand still hovered over the light switch and he looked down at Frank with a sad, but understanding expression.
“A bad one, huh?”
The older boy just nodded and forced himself to sit up. He wiped at his eyes as Joe came into the bathroom and sat beside him. “Want to tell me?”
Frank shook his head. “I’m all right.”
“Liar.”
Glancing at his brother, Frank chuckled grimly. “I suppose I am.” He took a shuddering breath and leaned his head on Joe’s shoulder. “Worse one yet,” He said quietly.
Joe put his arm around Frank. “Should I get Mom and Dad?”
“No,” Frank said quickly. “No, just – just give me a minute.”
He didn’t need to ask twice. Joe just sat quietly with his brother as Frank got control of himself. “Bozo again?” Joe asked when the last of the tears were shed.
“Yea,” Frank sighed wearily. He was absolutely exhausted, but he knew he would get no more sleep that night.
“Your fault!”
A tremor course through his body and he pulled away from Joe. “I’m sorry,” He said suddenly.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” Joe reassured him with a small smile. “You’re talking to the expert on nightmares here.”
Frank tried to return the smile, but failed. “No, I’m sorry you got hurt.”
“What?” Joe looked at Frank in confusion. “When did-”
“At the University,” came the answer. “When you went down the stairs. You were hurt and it was because of me. Everyone gets hurt because of me.”
“Oh that,” Joe said as if it were nothing. “It was just a bump to the head and you know how thick this thing it” He tapped the side of his head. “And who’s this everyone you’re talking about?”
“Dad got hurt-”
“Only because that other guy sucker punched him when Dad started to go after you.” Joe waved his hand dismissively. “Next?”
“What about Detective Younger? He got shot-”
“Because that jerk was going to kill you.” Joe turned and locked his intense blue eyes with Frank’s. “And personally, it could just be because I’ve never met Detective Younger, but I’d rather him shot than you dead any day of the week.”
“Okay, so what about the guys that were killed?”
“They don’t count.”
“Why not?”
“They’re the bad guys. Who else you got?”
Frank remained silent, turning away from Joe’s gaze and stared at the grout on the floor.
“I thought so.” Joe said triumphantly. He noticed Frank shivering and put his arm around him again. “Come on. I’m getting cold in here.” Truth was, he was just fine but he knew Frank wouldn’t move without proper coaxing.
Accepting Joe’s help off the floor, Frank started for his bedroom when Joe grabbed his hand and pulled him the other way. “You got me up in the middle of the night. I’m not getting back to sleep right away, so you can come keep me company.”
Not waiting for a response, Joe pulled Frank into the bedroom and the two lay on the bed. Joe left the light on in the bathroom, just in case, and the light played across the foot of the small bed. The smaller boy lay against the wall, giving Frank access to the bathroom if he needed it again.
“So who was that girl earlier tonight?”
Frank was surprised by the question. He was expecting the third degree about his dream, but he realized he shouldn’t have. He never pushed Joe to tell him his nightmares, so why would Joe do that to him. “Her name’s Callie. She goes to our school.”
“Oh yea,” Joe said, stifling a yawn. “I’ve seen Iola talking to her at recess. She seems okay.”
“She’s really nice,” Frank said with a yawn of his own.
Joe stared at the back of his brother’s head. “You like her!”
Frank twisted his head to glare at Joe. “I just met her!”
“I knew it! You do like her!”
“What do you know, you’re ten.”
Joe paused, the teasing gone in an instant. “Eleven,” he corrected gently.
“No you’re not. You’re birthday’s March-” Frank cut himself off, mortified that he hadn’t realized that the end of March had come and gone.
“It’s okay,” Joe said softly. “You didn’t get a birthday this year so I didn’t want one either. Beside, I got what I would have wished for anyway.”
“What was that?”
Joe yawned again and put a comforting arm over Frank. “You came home, didn’t you?”
Frank smiled, his eyes closing on their own. The room went quiet as the boys surrendered to their fatigue. Half asleep, Frank reached for his brother’s hand and gripped it tightly. “Joe?”
There was another yawn. “Yea Frank?”
“Thanks.”
“Love you too.”
“Enter Sandman” by Metallica
Words and Music by James Hetfield, Lars Ulrich and Kirk Hammett
Copyright © 1991 Creeping Death Music (ASCAP)
International Copyright Secured All Rights Reserved
Let the author know what you think of this story
Home Library Authors Rogue's Gallery Vehicles Chums Message Board Rap Sheet Links Contact
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.