hardy boys fan fiction
THE OUIJA BOARD
hardy boys nancy drew fan fiction
by
Phoenix
Chapter
9
hardy boys fan fiction
THE CHAPTERS
“Rufus!” Mr. Fitzpatrick bellowed, grabbing the dog by its collar as Joe slowly stood up. Frank moved slightly in anticipation of an attack as the dog bristled under his owner’s restraint. “You boys wait here, I’ll bar him in the house,” the old man said as he tugged the agitated animal away from them.
“What’s up with him?” Joe asked, his blue eyes wide in his pale face. Frank started to say something but then frowned as his brother seemed to grow grayer right before his very eyes!
“Joe?”
“You know, Frank,” the younger said as he let out a weary sigh of relief when the old man came out of the house without the dog, although they both could hear the animal barking from the kitchen, “I don’t think I am feeling very well,” he finally admitted. “I hate cutting out on you like this but I really need to go lie down for a bit.”
Frank was already nodding, easily seeing how his brother felt. ‘Probably just the flu,’ he thought a bit worriedly as he watched the blond boy slowly move towards the front of the house. Not liking how Joe seemed barely able to drag his feet, he excused himself for a moment and then hurried to catch up. “Here, I’ll walk with you,” he offered, “I need to call Callie anyway.” They both knew what he was really doing, but Joe just gave him a little look and never said anything.
The older boy’s concern grew….
* * *
Fenton heard the boys enter the house, and came out of his office to talk to them. He’d spent the morning bringing the Halloween decorations down from the attic and sorting through them, stopping periodically to check his email.
“Hey boys—” he stopped in his tracks as he got a good look at his younger son. He hadn’t seen Joe earlier, having already gone up to the attic before the boy came down for breakfast.
“Dad,” Joe mumbled as he continued on past, and towards the stairs. Fenton reached out and snagged his arm, stopping him as he took in the gash on the forehead, dark circles under the eyes, and pasty white complexion, quickly deciding Laura had reason to worry – Joe looked terrible!
Frank hovered a bit nervously behind them.
“What’s wrong, son?” the detective asked, his keen brown eyes searching his son’s wan face.
“Dunno,” Joe admitted, his voice a bit sluggish sounding, “must be coming down with something.”
“Must be,” Fenton agreed, brushing the boy’s forehead lightly and frowning as he felt cold, clammy skin. He glanced at Frank for a moment and then nodded, addressing Joe again, “Go on upstairs and lie down.” Releasing the teen’s arm, he watched him slowly head to his room.
Frank looked at his father who shrugged. “He doesn’t have a fever. I’m sure he’ll feel better after a good rest. Are you finished at Wilson’s?”
“No,” the dark-haired teen admitted, his gaze drifting back to the stairs.
“Well, go on then,” the sleuth advised him, “I’ll keep an eye on your brother.” He could see the reluctance on his son’s face, and gave his shoulder a brief squeeze. “He’ll be fine, Frank.”
Reluctantly, the boy finally nodded and headed back outside. Fenton waited until he left and then went into the kitchen to make a cup of chicken broth. Joe had felt chilled, and the worried father figured he would appreciate the warm broth – if nothing else, it would help warm him up.
* * *
Frank was halfway back to Mr. Fitzpatrick’s house when he heard someone call his name, and saw Callie hop out of her car and hurry towards him, her pretty face flushed with excitement.
“Hey Callie,” he greeted, giving her a warm hug, “What’s going on?”
“Oh nothing,” she smiled and then burst out, her words tumbling one over the other, “Frank! This is so exciting – well, exciting and terrifying at the same time, if that makes any sense! But last night when we were at Deathe House and Van and I used the Ouija board, we made contact with—” she paused and frowned, feeling a bit deflated, “oh wait, you probably already know. I’m sure Joe told you everything!”
“Actually—” Frank started, but she cut him off and continued animatedly:
“Vlad the Impaler – can you believe it?! At first I didn’t know who he was, but Joe did – or at least I think he did – did he?” She never paused to give her boyfriend a chance to say anything as she rambled on in a fevered pace, “it doesn’t matter. Anyway, when I got home I searched the internet for Vladimir Tepes – that was the name he gave. I guess he didn’t go around introducing himself as Vlad the Impaler much, huh? Anyway, I found out he was the inspiration for Bram Stoker’s Dracula! And it was so cool – well, in a gross, torturing people sort of way….Okay, maybe not cool after all, but then I started thinking about what happened afterwards, the strange sound chasing us, the shadow in the hall and the fire. I mean, what was up with that? My candles had already been blown out when the door banged open so it wasn’t that – and then the window,” her eyes widened at the memory, “it wouldn’t break! Even Joe tried and—”
Frank put his hand over her mouth. “Wait a second, slow down.”
Callie shoved his hand away from her mouth and then grabbed his wrist imploringly. “We have to go back!”
“No way!” Frank couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and fought to keep from yelling at her. “Are you nuts, Callie? Have you forgotten what we talked about last night?”
“We don’t have a choice!” the girl insisted, holding Frank’s wrist even more tightly. “We have to go back – me, Vanessa and Joe!”
“No way!” he repeated, stunned by his girlfriend’s persistence over this. “It isn’t going to happen!”
“Excuse me,” a voice said from behind them, “Did I hear you kids talking about Vlad Dracul and Deathe House?” The teens turned to see Mr. Fitzpatrick standing behind them, a very concerned look on his face.
“Well…um…actually,” Callie admitted a bit apprehensively. Frank shot her a look and explained.
“Callie’s dad gave her a Ouija board yesterday and she took Vanessa and Joe with her to Deathe House last night to try it out.”
The old man seemed to pale as he looked at them. He clarified, “You took a spirit board there?” Without waiting for confirmation he pressed, “Did you make contact with anyone?”
Frank looked at his neighbor in surprise – Mr. Fitz didn’t believe in that hokey-nonsense…did he?
“We did!” The girl’s eyes lit up. “Vladimir Tepes! Dracula! Can you believe it?”
The old man did actually pale this time as he asked sharply, “Where in the house, were you?”
“A library I think,” Callie answered as she looked nervously at Frank, obviously unnerved by the old man’s reaction. “It had a huge fireplace and lots of books.”
“Thank you for your help, Frank. Thank Joe for me too, but that is everything you can do for me today. Good bye.” Dismissing them abruptly, Mr. Fitzpatrick hurried back into his house and slammed the door.
“What’s up with him?” Callie wondered as both she and Frank stared at the now closed door.
“I don’t know,” the boy admitted and then turned to her, grabbed her arm and began pulling her towards his own house, “but I am more concerned with what’s up with you right now!”
* * *
The old man hurried down into his basement and turned on the light. Rufus stayed at the top of the stairs; this was one place the dog would never go. So instead, he just lay at the top of the stairs, peered down at the man and waited.
* * *
“No, it can’t be,” Wilson was muttering as he began sifting through an assortment of old books he kept in a heavy teak chest, ignoring the ache in his old joints as he knelt down on the hard floor. “Let me be wrong…for the love of all that is good, let me be wrong!”
Finding what he was looking for, the old man stood up with difficulty and then moved back to sit down on the bottom of the stairs. The book he found was actually an old journal, faded and dusty, and he carefully opened it and began reading.
It seemed to take forever but finally he found what he was looking for; an old passage in barely legible scrawl, and as he read it, a coldness clutched his heart. This was not good at all.
* * *
“Frank, you don’t understand,” Callie was pleading as he pulled her into his house, “we have to go back – we’ve left the door open!”
“Door? What are you talking about?” He led the girl into the kitchen so their voices wouldn’t disturb Joe. He absently wondered where his father was. “You aren’t making any sense and you aren’t going back to that house either. None of you!”
“Look,” Callie tried to reason with him, “I haven’t slept a wink, okay – I’ve been up all night! After I finished looking up stuff about Vlad, I did more research on Ouija boards and what I learned is telling me that not only do we need to go back but we have to contact Vlad again.” She put up her hand to silence Frank as he started to protest. He glowered at her but clamped his jaw shut. “I invited him to talk to us – through a link between me and Vanessa. But we never said ‘Good-bye’ so he hasn’t been sent back, the door hasn’t been shut – Frank,” her brown eyes looked deep into his darker ones, “he is still loose in that house and until we send him back…well…” her voice trailed off as she shrugged not sure how to finish that thought.
“This is crazy.” Frank paced the kitchen as he talked, “absolutely nuts. Ouija Boards, open doors, spirits…” He stopped and looked at her in exasperation. “What is it going to take to convince you that that house is dangerous and to stay away from it? Someone tried to kill you last night – they purposely locked you in that room!”
“How’d the fire start then, Frank?” Callie challenged him, folding her arms across her chest in a defiant stance, “and why wouldn’t the window break? Huh? Joe gave it his best shot and it didn’t even crack!” The girl suddenly looked around sharply, “Speaking of Joe – where is he? He can tell you!”
“He’s sick,” Frank told her, “and the last thing you are going to be doing is mentioning any of this to him – am I clear on that?” He raised an eyebrow as he looked at her; his tone brooked no nonsense and the girl started to protest but then thought better of it and just nodded.
“Okay, speaking of which. Wait here a second, I want to see if he’s feeling any better.” The teen was already halfway to the door. “There’s some sodas in the fridge.” He glanced back and added, “Don’t go anywhere!” and then hurried up the stairs, meeting his father on the top of the landing.
“How’s Joe?” Frank asked as soon as he saw his father. Fenton was holding an uneaten bowl of some sort of broth – chicken probably, the teen decided. The sleuth looked concerned.
“I’m not sure. But I think I’m going to give Dr. Bates a call, just to be safe,” Fenton admitted. “I just don’t like his color and he couldn’t stay awake long enough to eat any of this.”
“That sounds like a good idea,” Frank conceded, already moving past his father to go into his brother’s room. “Callie’s in the kitchen,” he added, so the older man wouldn’t be surprised to see her.
“Okay son,” Fenton said and then continued on downstairs. Although it was a Saturday, their long time family physician insisted his patients call him at any time if they had any concerns – and unfortunately, the Hardys oftentimes had to make use of that privilege.
Quietly Frank pushed open the door to his brother’s room and went inside. Slipping across the room, he stood by the bed and looked down at Joe – gasping in shock when he saw him!
Joe’s lips were blue!
* * *
Wilson Fitzpatrick hurried out to his old truck, got inside, started it and backed out of the driveway. He had to go to Deathe House to see for himself.
If he was right…well the old man didn’t want to even consider that as he cast a glance back at the Hardy house; because if he was right, Joe Hardy was going to die….
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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.