A/N Thanks for all the reviews people! Sorry about the wait!
Disclaimer: I own nothing! Isn't that thrilling? lol.
Frank paled as he read the note, but told himself that it was all a joke. Just a prank, not a very funny prank, but still, not a big deal, everything was all right; there was no need for him to panic. Frank let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and shoved both notes into the top drawer of his desk. Feeling the migraine throb mercilessly at his skull Frank rubbed his eyes and decided he would just go to bed. Everything would seem better in the morning, and the events of this past day would seem laughable.
At least that's what Frank told himself, he had always liked to lie to himself. You could tell yourself that something wasn't bad, that it wouldn't get worse, that you were blowing it all out of proportion. But Frank like most other people knew it was a lie, while he could lie to himself, he did all the time, he seldom actually believed what he was saying. But he said it anyways because although the words rang hollow they brought a shallow kind of comfort. They held the panic and the terror back and most importantly they deluded the real issue. So Frank went to bed pushing away his horror filled thoughts and closing his eyes falling into the black abyss of his dreams.
Frank woke up with a start for the third time that night. He'd been having weird dreams all night; he wouldn't call them nightmares, because that would vindicate them; giving the dream some kind of power over him. They weren't particularly gory or anything, it was just dark but he had this constant sensation of eyes staring, just staring, unblinkingly, ceaselessly staring. And sometimes he'd hear a whispered voice hissing things, he couldn't make out the words but they had sent chills down his spine. Frank rubbed at his forehead and looked around the room wearily nothing seemed disturbed everything was fine, it was all just a dream, but there was something so real about it. Frank pushed these unwanted thoughts to the back of his head and got out of bed; there was no point in trying to sleep now, it wasn't as though he'd be able to.
Somewhere Else…
He's getting nervous. Soon, it will be time. Very soon. Mr. Hardy will join me, he thinks that he is invincible, believes that this is just a prank, but young Mr. Hardy has made a fatal error, he has underestimated me. But soon he will know terror, and he will know pain. Soon he will enter hell, and he will beg for death, he will plead, but death will not come for him so easily. For death does not welcome Frank Hardy, he is chosen, and he will live despite his requests to the contrary. He has been selected, and these few elite shall feel the pain of the Earth, and they shall suffer for it. For as long as the Earth is wronged they will be wronged. And it is my solemn duty as the Enforcer to ensure that he follows in his duties, he owes the Earth this, and he shall pay his dues, willingly or not, Frank Hardy will pay.
Back to Frank…
It was four in the morning, far too early to be awake, but too late to attempt falling asleep. Frank sighed and yawned as he set about making coffee. He thanked whatever deity it was that had saw fit to create such a lifesaving liquid. Frank listened to the sounds of wondrously black coffee hitting the inside of the pot and prayed that today would be better. It was unlikely that it could be worse then the one preceding it, but Frank wasn't willing to jinx it, for if he had learned one thing in his years of detective work, and observing his Father, things could always get worse. Of course by the same token they could get better as well, but it seemed that far more often your luck would plummet and your life would worsen. Frank wasn't a pessimist despite what Joe said to the contrary, he was simply a realist. He didn't delude himself with false images of good triumphing over evil and happy endings; Frank Hardy was nothing if not practical, and any practical person knew that things could and would always get worse. Sometimes even the most realistic people wish that they could deny the truths they say right before their eyes; but as is their curse, they cannot, and they will not. Frank wished that he could join his brother as he chanted his cheerful mantra of perfect conclusions and light prevailing over dark; but he couldn't, Frank was too practical, too realistic, and too logical to delude himself in such a manner. However as he saw a piece of paper slide under the kitchen door he wished he weren't such a realist. Frank felt his stomach tie itself in knots as he picked up the note which was addressed just like all the others. Against his better judgment Frank ripped open the envelope and unfolded the single piece if paper inside it.
Feeling nervous, Mr. Hardy? I think so. I can see it, it's written on your face as you stand there in your kitchen making coffee. I've been watching. And I've been waiting. Be ready, Mr. Hardy, I'm coming for you.
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