hardy boys fan fiction
THE OUIJA BOARD
hardy boys nancy drew fan fiction
by
Phoenix
Epilogue
hardy boys fan fiction
THE CHAPTERS
Frank opened his eyes and stifled a groan. Every fiber of his body felt stiff and sore, and for a few moments he could not remember what had happened or where he was.
Slowly he lifted his head and in the semi-gloom of the room, he saw Wilson sitting cross-legged, watching him. On the other side, Frank saw Callie just starting to stir as well.
Joe!
Immediately Frank sought out his brother, and saw the younger boy still lying face down on the floor. Painstakingly, he sat up. He looked at Wilson, afraid to touch and afraid to ask – but he had to know, “Did we – is he okay?”
The old man sighed, the sound loud in the silence around them. “I don’t know,” he admitted.
His heart pounding, Frank scooted next to his brother and gently turned him onto his back. Carefully he half-lifted Joe into his lap and stroked the cool forehead, grimacing when he saw the burn his blood had left. His own hand hurt something awful but he was too afraid for Joe to pay it any mind. “Hey little brother,” he whispered, “Are you still with us?”
The blond boy lay limp and unresponsive in his arms.
Sucking in a steadying breath, Frank looked at Callie and Wilson, “Y-you guys okay?”
“Yes,” Callie nodded, moving towards Frank and kneeling down next to him and Joe. “How is – how’s Joe?” Her brown eyes were dark with compassion and regret. She knew she had done this.
Frank just shook his head, afraid to voice the fear that they had been too late; and that while they had expelled Vlad Tepes, it was not before the leech got its last drop…. And that this unresponsive pale boy was what was left.
“Oh Frank,” Callie said softly as she glanced at Wilson, her eyes pleading for him to somehow make this better, but the old man shook his head. There was nothing he could do.
“It’s almost seven in the morning,” Wilson said softly, startling Frank, who realized now why the room was in a semi-gloom instead of total darkness.
“We’ve been out almost twelve hours,” the dark-haired boy said dully as he looked down into the face of his younger brother and continued to gently stroke his face. ‘Where are you, kiddo?’ his heart hammered, ‘You can’t leave me like this!’ Closing his eyes Frank swallowed back the emotion, refusing to believe that this was it…that his brother was truly gone. ‘No,’ his mind screamed, ‘this can’t be it!’
“Yeah,” Wilson confirmed as he bowed his head. “I am so sorry, Frank,” the old man said, his voice barely a whisper, “I honestly thought we could save him.”
“I know,” the nineteen-year old sighed. Beside him, he saw Callie reach out towards him, but he shook his head – his emotions were in too much turmoil right now to deal with her. He knew she never meant for this to happen, and that she had been the one to ‘close the door,’ but at the same time, she had also been the one who started it and for that, he just wasn’t ready to accept her comfort yet. He could not look at her and say it was okay, so he didn’t say anything.
Instead, he just continued to look at his brother, and then nodded wearily when Callie offered to call an ambulance. Wilson got up to go out with her, stopping briefly to put his hand on Frank’s shoulder.
Frank appreciated the gesture but said nothing.
It was only after Wilson and Callie had gone out of the room in search of better reception that Frank bowed his head, pressing his cheek against the top of his brother’s head, and felt a lone tear streak defiantly past his defenses.
Absently, he felt it roll down his cheek to the very tip of his nose and fall – he could have sworn that he heard it hit the blond strand and travel down the tip and onto this brother’s scalp…
Holding Joe even tighter, Frank started to shake. “How am I supposed to tell Mom and Dad?” he cried softly, inhaling the smell of his brother’s shampoo, “How do I look them in the eye and tell them – tell them you’re d-dead!?” His voice broke with anguish.
“Then…don’t.” The voice was so quiet and weak Frank almost didn’t hear it…almost!
“Joe?” His heart actually stopped in anticipation of a response – ‘please don’t let it be this creepy old house,’ Frank’s mind screamed, ‘please…that would be too cruel a trick!’ And then he felt a cold hand grip his arm and hold on with a surprising amount of strength.
“I want to go home,” came the reply.
Laughing and crying with relief, Frank just held his brother – and that is how Wilson and Callie found them when they finally came back.
* * *
Joe had never felt so tired before in his life as he did right now, lying quietly in his brother’s embrace. He heard the siren of the approaching ambulance and was, for the first time that he could recall, looking forward to getting to the hospital. He just wanted to go back to sleep!
This time, however, it wasn’t a heaviness trying to pull him down but a good healing sleep that beckoned to him.
He only didn’t succumb now because he was afraid of scaring Frank again. Joe had heard the sound of utter loss in his older brother’s voice, and had felt the hopelessness in the tears that had soaked the top of his head – so for the older teen, he refused to give in to his body’s need, yet. But it was getting close…
Hearing someone else kneeling down beside them, the blond teen shifted his gaze and was a bit surprised to see Callie. He actually had forgotten that she – and Wilson – were here.
“Hey Joe,” Callie said softly, reaching out to touch his hand.
Joe gave her a very weak smile, wondering what she wanted.
“I am so sorry,” she started, and then broke down, “I never meant for any of this to happen! I was just so stupid, so pig-headed, so stubborn—”
“Whoa,” he managed, getting dizzy from her rushed words. He shifted slightly in his brother’s arms, comforted by the pounding heartbeat he could hear as his head still rested against Frank’s chest. “S’okay.”
“It’s not!” Callie refuted and then lowered her tone when she saw Joe grimace. She took a steadying breath and tried again. “It’s not okay, Joe. You almost died. I messed around with something I should have never messed around with, and – even more importantly – I ignored what you were saying – even after you got hurt and although, deep down, I knew you were right! I just got so carried away with what I wanted…I didn’t even take a second to ask myself what the hell I was doing. And for that, I am so sorry.” She paused, and her brown eyes shone at him with sincerity. “I don’t know what to do to make it up to you, but you name it, and I’ll do it!”
* * *
Frank hid a small smile as he heard his girlfriend’s babbled apology to his brother. ‘Be careful what you ask for,’ he thought, knowing his brother too well. And then his smile broadened as he heard Joe’s soft reply, hesitant at first.
”Well…you can wash my van if you want—”
The older boy chuckled as the list got longer, with Callie agreeing whole-heartedly to everything. He sighed and looked down at his brother with unabashed affection on his face – Joe was going to be just fine.
A few minutes later, Wilson came back with the paramedics, who quickly assessed Joe and then gently put him on a stretcher. Frank went to stand by the older man and watched as Callie started to pack up the Ouija board and candles. He passed the man the small pouch that had been shoved down Joe’s shirt, and watched a myriad of emotions pass over Wilson’s face as he kissed the pouch, whispered something and then put it back around his own neck. He smiled at Frank in thanks.
“Can I ask you something?” the dark-haired teen asked as they followed the stretcher down the gloomy hallway.
Wilson gave a soft chuckle. “You want to know what is in this pouch that makes it so powerful?”
Frank nodded, not really surprised that the old man had known what he was going to ask – his neighbor had turned out to be full of surprises.
“There is nothing in the pouch, nothing at all,” Wilson said, and then his smile broadened at the confused look that passed over the teen’s face. “It is the pouch itself that has the power…for it carries my great grandfather’s blood.”
A faraway look crossed the old man’s face. “The morning of my great grandfather’s death, he gave it to my great grandmother as a gift. He had made the pouch himself and then, cutting his own hand, he bathed it in blood. ‘A talisman,’ he told my mother, ‘to protect our family from the evil in this house’. See,” he explained to Frank, “his blood is part of this house and as such, repelled the leech. This house already owns that soul.”
Frank just looked at him, not sure how to respond or even what to believe.
Wilson laughed, put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “But all that really matters is that it was enough for Joe.”
The teen nodded as he looked at his brother being carefully loaded into the back of the ambulance.
“Go with him,” Callie urged from his other side, “I’ll give Mr. Fitzpatrick—”
“Wilson,” the old man interrupted, “I think we’ve been through enough for you to call me by my first name.”
“Wilson,” Callie flashed him a smile and started again. “I’ll give Wilson a ride home.”
Frank gave her a quick squeeze and then climbed in next to his brother. As the doors were closed, he shivered and then looked down at Joe – his brother was smiling at him.
“What are you smiling at?” he asked, favoring the younger boy with a grin of his own.
“I’m just wondering how you’re going to explain this to Mom and Dad,” and with that Joe closed his eyes and was asleep before a dumbstruck Frank could formulate a proper response.
“Why you little—” the older boy muttered, and then shook his head in exasperation – Joe was right! How was he going to explain this to their parents??
* * *
As the ambulance pulled away, Wilson turned around and looked at Deathe House. He suppressed a shudder and then turned to follow Callie towards her car.
Holding his talisman tightly in his hands, he prayed that it was truly over.
* * *
In a museum in the heart of what was known as Romania, a cloaked man crept towards a display case. He looked at the chalice of Tirgoviste and smiled….
The End – Happy Halloween 2005! Much of what was used in this story with regards to Vladimir Tepes, is based on true events in his life, particularly with regards to his brothers. And some of the other incidents, like a phone number being given out by an Ouija Board that is then answered by dead air, is reputed to have happened in real life!
Chilling isn’t it??
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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.