Demons of the Spiral
By: Aubrie1234
"Big brother, don't you think it's about time we made them remember? It's been 10 years."
"They still haven't forgotten us, though. Except I do agree, we need to cause some more...mischief."
"Well, what about an alternate universe? Can't we do that?" Reader stopped his drawing, finally looking up at a bored Juggler.
"It's impossible."
"We were impossible."
"True." Reader twirled the pencil between his fingers, thinking, "How about this, then? I have an idea how to do it, but we need to get out of here first." Juggler grinned.
"Leave that part to me. What's your idea?"
"I can't tell you, because I'm not sure if it will work." Juggler nodded.
"That's okay. I just want to get out of this h**lhole." Reader rolled his eyes and went back to drawing in his book as Juggler began to plan.
The brothers suddenly paused in their talking and shivered.
"Did you-?"
"Yeah, I felt it too."
"What happened?" Their friends glanced between the two curiously. They were at a small diner, talking with Frank and Joe, when it had happened. The HB shared a glance.
"We don't know." Joe spoke, "It was strange, like something bad just happened."
"And you both felt it?" Vanessa asked. They nodded.
"It was so weird..." Frank shook his head, "I don't like it. Something's wrong, really wrong." This made the others begin to worry.
"It might have been nothing, though." Chet said, trying to ease them all, including himself.
"Y-yeah..." The Hardys Boys still looked pretty shaken.
"Do you see them?"
"How could I not?" Reader rolled his eyes again as Juggler looked through the binoculars.
"So, who's with them?"
"Everyone except Iola. There's also a new girl with blonde hair. She's pretty tall and walking with Joe."
"Maybe he dumped Iola." Juggler snorted.
"Yeah, I don't think so. I didn't have the guts to hurt her until the Whispers, so I don't think he did anything." Reader sat back, thinking.
"Well, this is an alternate world. Anything could have happened."
"When are we going to make our move?"
"Soon, soon. We just need to find the right place to do it..."
His eyes darted around, alight with fear as they desperately searched the darkness. He held his breath, heart pounding. He knew they would find him anyway, but he had to try.
"Cute! He's trying to hide!" cooed a voice off to his left.
"You should know by now that you can't hide from us." He jerked away in surprise when he heard another voice whisper in his ear. The two had been taunting him for some time now.
"What...what do you want?!" He was having enough of being scared. Two bright grins lit the darkness.
"We want to scar you, to make you fear us." said one.
"If you saw us, you would think yourself insane." said the other, "But you aren't. By the way, I think this is your missing brother..." When he saw his brother, he felt like he had been punched.
"No..." he scrambled to his brother's side, "No no no!" His brother's beautiful blond hair was matted with blood coming from the gash on his head and from the blood pouring from the slash at his neck. There was no pulse.
"No no no NO!" He tried to hold in sobs, but his tears escaped. His brother...no, they were supposed to stay together! He...he couldn't be...
"No n-" His words were literally cut off by a knife slashing at his own throat. Gasping, he coughed up blood, and his hands couldn't stop the flow. As the blood poured, so did his energy until he was lying on his brother's body. He strained to look up one last time, trying to make out who were the ones who had killed his brother. He couldn't see their faces, but as his eyesight faded, along with everything else, he had committed their glowing blue and brown eyes and maniac smiles to memory.
He shot up in his bed, eyes wide. Looking around, he found himself in his room. Throwing the covers off, he quietly raced to his brother's room. There was Joe, still alive, crying and shaking.
"Hey, I'm here, I'm not dead." Frank whispered softly as he sat on the bed, taking his brother into his arms. He could guess what Joe had been dreaming about.
"I thought- I thought-"
"Yeah, I know. I had the same dream myself. That's all it was, just a dream."
"It- it looked-" Joe gasped for air, trying to calm himself, "-so real."
"I know, I know." They sat there together quietly, comforting each other until they were calm again.
"Who...who were they? Why did they want us dead?"
"I don't know, little brother. They were insane, though."
"...Do you think this was a prediction? It could be connected to that feeling we got earlier today."
"...Maybe. Let's think about it later, we both got a bad scare."
"Could you stay with me tonight?"
"Sure, Joe. It would make us feel better and safer." Soon enough, Joe was back to sleep, leaning on his shoulder. Frank smiled as he snored away, letting his head fall on his brother's head. Soon enough, he was back asleep as well. That was how their family found them in the morning, Joe snuggled up to his brother and gripping Frank's shirt tightly as Frank held Joe in a protective embrace. They left the two be, knowing they had a bad night.
The nightmares plagued them once a night, every night, forcing them to sleep in the same room to comfort each other. The only good thing about them was that near the end, when Frank and Joe were dying, they made out more details of the attackers each time. Just as they were about to get the full picture, though, the dreams began to change.
Instead of seeing each other dead, they began to see the shadowy figures as they killed others they knew. Chet, Vanessa, Tony... No one was spared. They even saw some of their other friends from other continents and other parts of the US get murdered. Frank wasn't sure if they were just nightmares or predictions, but Joe was. And if they had told anyone what they were seeing... Everyone would be so worried over them that the predictions may come true. But who were the figures? Why did they want the HB and their friends dead?
Soon enough, they would get their answer in the worst way possible.
Opening the mailbox, Frank didn't expect a package to be there. It was stuffed among the regular mail and had no return address. Frank frowned, unsure if he should open it. It was addressed to himself and his brother, yes, but it might be connected to their nightmares.
"Joe?" He took it inside with the other mail, placing it on the table. No one else except themselves was there, making it a little more suspicious, even if it might be a coincidence. Joe peeked his head into the living room from the kitchen, having been forced to clean the kitchen by Aunt Trudy.
"Yeah?" His eyes landed on the package.
"It's to us."
"...Let me finish cleaning first." Joe seemed hesitant to deal with the package and Frank didn't blame him. In a few minutes, though, both brothers were ready to open it. Sitting on the couch, Frank took the package into his hands and Joe handed him a letter-opener. Once the tape was cut, they were surprised at what they found.
"A book?" It was a black hardback with no lettering. It was possible it once had a dust jacket, but the jacket was gone. The book didn't look that old, either. Joe grabbed it out of the box and opened it. He froze when he saw what was written on the first page. Looking over, Frank froze himself.
Written by: Frank Hardy
It was even in Frank's handwriting! Right under it was another sentence, but in Joe's handwriting.
To: The Hardy Boys
Hope you like it!
"...This is a prank. It just has to be!" A shaking hand was run over the letters.
"I don't think they are. Who has enough experience to copy our handwriting?"
"Do we have to read it?"
"I guess." The book didn't crack as the pages were turned, indicating it had been opened many times before. What they saw horrified them, but they couldn't tear their eyes away.
Well, I decided to start this with no idea in mind, really. Maybe later I'll know what to call it. For now, it's just a journal. Joe would tease, saying it's a diary, but you and I know that isn't true.
I...I... What have we done? It was supposed to be a simple mission, but now it's become so much more. Two people are dead because of us, at our own hands. Joe's crying, and I feel like joining him, but I have to stay strong. As long as no one asks us what happened, it'll be fine, right? ...Right?
Things are not going good for us right now. We've consoled ourselves, but now something is messing with our heads, our minds. Joe's given them the name of 'The Whispers,' and I completely agree. They're trying to change us, trying to make us to...what we were when we were on the undesirable mission. We're resisting, so I only hope they stop soon.
They're not stopping! It's been so long since they began! Causing death once is one thing, but doing it again and again is another! I...I don't think we can stop this. They aren't going to stop, and we can't stop them. I only hope...I hope we can survive this.
I've decided to start drawing in here, what I've seen. The Whispers haven't stopped, and slowly, I think my brother and I are losing our minds. Maybe drawing what we've done will help stop those evil little voices...
I think Joe finally broke this morning. Or last night. Either way, after Sandy Schroeder (no relation to Peanuts) insulted Joe at a house party yesterday, she was found dead in her room just before school. Joe broke down when I asked him about it, so I'm having to write this left-handed. He still hasn't stopped crying. We're just lucky no one else is home. But when will I crack? And what will happen to us after this?
I killed a girl today. Yeah, not an accomplishment, but I don't know why I did it, really. She just...She verbally beat my brother and I couldn't take it. The worst part of it was that I enjoyed killing her. It was like it was a sport! We were once again lucky that no one else was there. Joe even saw what I did, and he admitted that he wanted to get involved, have a chance to...to make her scream. We need help, and badly.
They've stopped! Finally, they've stopped! But at a price. We just had to admit to ourselves that we were now murderers, and that we were going to keep doing it. We're starting to kill people who get close to us on our cases. Good people, but suspicious. What if they betrayed us like Whitney had? We couldn't risk it. And now we're letting our enjoyment shine through. I'm not sure anymore if I'm Frank the detective or Frank the serial killer. Neither is Joe.
Killing people on our cases is fun and all, but getting to be boring. Joe suggested we start murdering people at home that we think might betray us. There are so many suspects... But hearing their screams and seeing their tears is all worth it. Now that I've accepted who I am, maybe I should name you... How about, 'Getting Away With Murder,' like that show? Of course I'm getting you a dust jacket, it'll make you look prettier.
They're getting too close. Iola and Callie are too close too early in the game. We'll have to set them back a notch and get the suspicion off of us. Tonight, Joe's going to poison Callie, so that should buy us some time.
They're gone. I thought I would be grieving, but I'm not. Neither has Joe. We were the ones that did kill them, after all. And I don't feel any remorse. People know what we've become now, and I'd hate to see the faces of our family when they found out. They're the only ones that we care about now, I guess.
It was fun while it lasted. We've gotten tired of death and are now ready to be caught. If we're sentenced to death, so what? We don't really care anymore. We've got the feeling we'll get another chance to strike terror, though.
After 10 years, they've forgotten about us so much we managed to escape. Joe wants to start hunting in an alternate world, and I think I've got an idea of how we can get there. But I can't even tell you, because someone may want to learn about it. I can't let that happen because cross-dimensional travel is bad enough. Though if they ever touched you, I would slice their hands off before slitting their throats.
Beyond the 2 pages of words were the drawings. Each one had either Joe or Frank killing someone in graphic detail. It was almost too much for the brothers, so Frank threw it into the fireplace. Both of them were shaking with fear and shock.
"...They're the ones in our dreams." Joe's voice cracked, so he struggled to straighten it out, "They're the nightmares we've been seeing."
"All too true." The brothers rocketed to their feet, whipping around, surprised. Behind them, leaning on the doorway, were Reader and Juggler. They were ten years older than the Hardys themselves, but didn't show it. Both were wearing matching grins that looked exactly like the ones in the nightmares. Juggler was dealing with his knives as Reader held out a hand.
"My book, please?" A knife thudded into the couch an inch from Joe's hand. They obviously meant business. Frank was forced to go grab and hand him the book with still-shaking hands. No matter what he did, he couldn't calm himself. Neither could Joe.
"You know, I can't believe our key still worked." Juggler said.
"Well, our key was for the old lock to the house, before our parents changed it after they found out. This house hasn't had its locks changed, though." Reader explained, then lessened his grin to a smile, "Ah, to be young again. What I would give for that..."
"By the way, your friends are going to be over soon." Juggler added to the Hardys, "And if you want them to live a little longer, I suggest you don't say a word. As for your family, they think they've gotten messages from various people that call them away, at least for long enough that we do what we need to."
"A-and that is?" Frank was too frightened to try and straighten his voice. Their grins returned.
"Oh, you know. The usual. Killing, torture, making you all scream as you're killed off one-by-one." Juggler listed.
"Call us insane if you want, you're not getting out of this house again alive!" Reader told them.
The sequel to Spiral is here! Also, if the rating needs to be moved up, tell me! Anyway, read & review!