101 Dalmatians: Hell Hall

Chapter II - Don't Panic

00000

Night Before...

Radcliff Residence.

Perdita rushed inside the still open door in a panic. In her state of desperation, she paid no mind to the police who were trying their best to get whatever information they could out of a hysterical Nanny Cook.

She ran to the kitchen and to her growing horror, there was nothing but an empty basket.

And her puppies were nowhere to be seen.

The world seemed to stop around her.

Hiding. That's it. They must be hiding.

She quickly exited the kitchen.

Perdita still had her leash on but she had enough sense to keep it from latching onto anything as she ran through the house in a desperate search, keeping an eye out for any sign of her children, calling out to them by name.

"Patch?! Lucky?! Caddy?! Penny?! Children! Are you here!"

There was no reply. Her sharp ears could hear nothing but police sirens and her heartbeat in her ears. The fact that this was all she could hear terrified her more than anything.

"Children!" She called out in a commanding voice, but it sounded a bit weak. "Children! Come here now!"

At length, she waited. No one came.

She felt numb.

But her hearing was still there.

"...the puppies! They took the puppies!"

It was Nanny's voice. No doubt she was giving the news to the Radcliff's.

Perdita's worst fears had been realized.

Someone came and took her children away.

Almost as though she were dead yet walking, Perdita went back to the kitchen.

She looked at the empty basket where her children were laid to bed. She smelt a scent that she didn't realize was there before.

The man who took them.

And yet, for some reason, the scent was oddly familiar and yet it seemed like she hadn't known this strange odor for very-

Oh no. Oh no.

It hadn't even been more than an hour since she knew that smell. She, Pongo, and their pets had not walked a hundred steps from their flat before she noticed that odor. It was certainly new but not unusual. But it was unique. But she didn't rightly know why.

But what she knew for certain was this: whoever stole their puppies were lying in wait, just outside their house, expecting them to leave, thus leaving her children almost defenseless.

She could not see them but she certainly smelt them.

She could no longer stand. Perdita slumped into the basket and curled up in it. It was still warm. Their warmth. Their smell was still there.

Perdita trembled and wept bitterly in silence

My babies. My poor babies. What kind of mother am I? I failed to see the danger and my puppies have paid the price.

She smelt Pongo entering the kitchen.

She finally spoke, though in rasping gasps. "They're gone Pongo. Our puppies, they're all gone. They're gone!"

My baby Cadpig, my baby Lucky, in a sack!

Tears streaming down her face, Perdita turned to look at her mate. "What are we going to do?"

Pongo said nothing. He looked crushed and defeated. Tears started to form in his eyes as well.

He was at a loss for words, perhaps for the first time in his life.

00000

Day 1

"I don't know how much more of this place I can stand."

"We've barely been here for a day Jewel," Two-Tone said crossly.

"I know that! But this...place! It's just wretched! Wretched! And those degenerates! It's as if they never wash."

"That's probably because they don't wash," Penny said matter-of-factly. "I'm not enjoying this anymore than you are Jewel, but until we can escape, we must bear it."

Jewel lowered her head. "Goodness knows when that's going to happen."

Penny scoffed. "You think Mum and Dad won't come for us?"

"I don't doubt that they'll try Penny but they'll have to come to Suffolk first."

"They may not have to," Penny said. "Once Scotland Yard gets wind of this, surely they'll track us down."

"Hopefully those two blokes left behind enough clues at home," Two-Tone said. Her voice sounded strong but there was a slight quiver in it that betrayed an ounce of fear. Despite her scrappy and tomboyish nature, Two-Tone did not quite know how to deal with her present situation other than fight to remain as rational as possible.

Penny regarded her with some concern. "Are you ok sister?"

"Oh, I'm just capital. We have just been stolen in the middle of the night and put into this dungeon of a house. Isn't it great?"

Penny knew she was being sarcastic. She knew Two-Tone well enough that she doesn't do it to be mean but it was rather how she coped when under terrible pressure.

"It's going to be ok Toney," Penny said consolingly.

Two-Tone looked at Penny with a blank look. "Toney? That's the first time you gave me a nickname."

"It's been a long night."

Suddenly the sound of a small bell was heard. The pups all lifted their heads, knowing what that sound meant.

Dinner time.

00000

Hell Hall's kitchen was at least in better condition than most of the rooms in the house, which is not saying much considering what the detrimental state of them all. The basic difference between them and the kitchen is the lack of debris and peeling paint.

Every single pup was eating happily from troughs which were filled with Kanine Krunchies.

The kitchen floor and the troughs were relatively clean, which would have to be in order to compensate for and keep preserved whatever these thugs had to eat.

"If Jasper and Horace are able to afford all those Kanine Krunchies, they must come from serious money," Freckles said as he ate another morsel from his spot at the trough.

"And yet they look like they came from the street," Dipstick replied as he too enjoyed his evening meal. He'd enjoy it more if it weren't for the present circumstances.

"Who do you think owns this place?" Freckles asked. "Certainly not those two."

"I wish I knew. It's certainly not abandoned, otherwise those two cads couldn't have locked the doors."

Freckles frowned. "Not like we could open those doors anyway."

Dipstick nodded. "And even if we could, we couldn't get very far. Like Three-Legs said, there's nowhere to go for miles. Without food and water, we'd be dead on our feet."

"So...what?" Thunder chimed in bitterly. "If we can't leave, then we must stay here until someone comes for us?"

"I don't want to stay here either Thunder," Freckles said. "I hate it here already but what choice do we have."

"Well…" Thunder started hesitantly. "We could always...while those two blokes sleep...you know." He motioned with his eyes in hopes his brothers would understand.

They did not.

"We can't open a bolted door Thunder," Freckles said. "Even if we could somehow reach it. And even if we could, there's nowhere to go."

"I'm not talking about escaping."

Dipstick raised an eyebrow before his eyes widened in shock. Not wishing to disturb the others, he said in a soft voice, "You want to kill them?"

Thunder stood his ground. "Before they kill us. Whatever they want with us, it can't be for our good."

"And once they're dead," Patch said, stepping in. "Who will feed us?"

Thunder stares at his eldest brother. He hadn't thought of that. "It can't be hard to get into the Kanine Krunchies."

"And when we run out, who'll buy more?"

Thunder opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it again.

"We need to remain calm and wait Thunder, that's all we can do for now."

"Who knows until help comes Patch," Thunder said wearily.

"We have to stay on, no matter what."

Thunder paused and he looked down. "You make it look so easy."

"What?"

"You. All of this. Everything that's happened, and yet…" Thunder swallowed. "You're so brave."

Sheepish but hiding it well, Patch rubbed one foreleg against another. "Someone has to keep a cool head."

"I'll say," Freckles said.

00000

The room was dark. The only thing lighting up the room was the fireplace and the television which the two men had on full blast.

The men, who came to be identified as the Badun brothers, were certainly fond of the program known as "What's My Crime."

Clearly inspired by that American show "What's My Line."

The Fifteen sat in front of the telly, watching intently. They did not particularly like the show, but they needed something to take their minds off their present situation.

Lucky was enjoying it well enough since he was standing on the television, something he'd often do when he was watching something he liked.

What he finds so interesting about what particular crime a certain someone did, I'll never know.

Patch looked back at the Baduns who were watching the program with eager diligence as though little else mattered. And judging by the way they were glaring irritably at Lucky, it was only a matter of time before one of them did something unpleasant.

"Lucky, get down," Patch said.

"Why?"

"Because the Baduns look angry and I think it's because you're blocking the view."

Lucky looked back at the thugs and when he saw that Patch was right, he got back down and sat on his haunches.

"What do you think they want with us?" Roly asked in a hushed tone.

"No idea," Freckles said. "And why are you whispering?"

"So those two blokes can't hear us."

"Humans don't speak dog Roly," Penny said. "You know that."

"Yeah," Roly said nodding. "But that doesn't mean we're not as smart."

"Humans don't think much of dogs and their brains," Dipstick said. "Otherwise, they'd take us more seriously. So there's no need to be on our guard with them."

"But we can't provoke them," Freckles said cautiously. "They have knives."

"How do you know?" Thunder asked.

"I saw them eating apples with them. They were big ones too."

"The apples?" Thunder said.

Freckles shook his head grimly. "No."

00000

Day 2

"Dipstick?"

"Yes Patch?"

"What have you found out?"

"Very little." Dipstick pursed his lips. "If they were going to sell us, they would've done so already."

"Did you see some of the portraits in the halls?"

"Some." Dipstick shuddered as though a chill went up his spine. "I do not like the looks of some of those people."

Patch nodded glumly "I know. It's like they're dead inside and the outside."

"Feels like they're staring at us."

"How do you mean?"

"Their eyes," Dipstick said as though he were describing a bad dream. "It's like they're staring into your soul, like they are going to do something bad to you."

"Hmm," Patch said.

"Hmm is right."

"I thought I felt something evil about this place."

Dipstick chuckled mirthlessly. "As if the name of this...place wasn't reason enough."

"I know I heard that name before. Hell Hall. But I can't put my paw on it."

"I'm sure it'll come back to you, but I don't think it will make a difference who owns or owned this place. What matters is that we're trapped here until help comes."

True enough. Hopefully, it won't be long.

00000

Meanwhile…

Scotland Yard was above all baffled. It had been a little over two days since the investigation into the stolen Dalmatian puppies and thus far, they had scarcely a lead.

"What they had thus far was a name and a description of the perpetrators and their car.

Horace was the name as it was the tall one who named him just before they escaped.

It did not take much thought to put the two and two together to learn that these were in fact the nefarious Badun Brothers.

Their names are Jasper and Horace, known petty crooks, both with lengthy criminal records.

Multiple counts of theft, burglary, car theft, and a few counts of assault, including that of Nanny Cook.

Unfortunately, all the known places where these two blokes have resided have been found empty and abandoned. Any trace or sign of their vehicle has come up cold as well.

Inspector Gordon assured the Radcliff's that if the Baduns were anywhere in London, they'd be found soon enough. However, if they had left the city, tracking them down would prove even more difficult.

It was fairly certain that the Baduns were acting under orders as Scotland Yard's psychologists asserted that they were simply not smart enough to concoct such a scheme. Besides, if they were going to simply sell them, they would've done so quickly and Scotland Yard would be in a position to trace the sale.

Thus far, no word has come up of any Dalmatian puppies being sold.

Truly, Scotland Yard had been baffled and have offered their deepest regrets to the Radcliff's.

The Radcliff's were devastated indeed and saddened.

But the Pongo's were far worse.

Pongo remained at his place on the cushioned windowsill, surrounded by newspaper, all of which concerned the stealing of his puppies. Stricken with grief, he acknowledged nothing save for the occasional show of comforting affection from his pet Roger and the rare phone call from Scotland Yard bringing news or rather none at all.

Perdita was inconsolable. She had little to eat and precious little to drink, at least until Pongo coaxed her otherwise. She spent her days and nights in the very basket where her puppies were put to bed, whimpering to herself, cursing herself for not seeing the danger and realizing it too late.

When Scotland Yard questioned the Radcliff's if there were any certain persons who'd want to steal their peoples and even go so far as to send men to carry it out whilst they were out on an evening walk.

Against her better judgment, Anita denied knowing anyone who would do such a thing. Roger disagreed and wasted no time naming Cruella de Vil as the most likely culprit, much to his wife's chagrin.

Inspector Gordon was very much familiar with this Cruella de Vil and personally would desire to have nothing to do with such a vile woman.

Not the wealthiest, the most powerful and certainly not the most popular. Cruella de Vil has lived a very private life and for good reason. Most of those among her class desires to stay well away from her and have nary to do with her.

There had been a rumor that her family dabbled in witchcraft and devilry, and are therefore capable of cursing those who displeased them.

Gordon dismissed this of course but he still had his suspicions. There wasn't much he knew of de Vil but if she was indeed the culprit, he would find out, one way or another.

After 24 hours, Scotland Yard came up with nothing that would point fingers at de Vil. While she certainly had the means, opportunity, and motive (which Gordon would not communicate with the Radcliff's until he had proof for fear of needlessly alarming them and their dogs), but no proof. Nothing solid.

Anything the informants could find was that Ms. de Vil had an alibi and phone records say nothing of any calls that lead back to the Baduns. For the time being, Scotland Yard could not touch her, much to the displeasure of the Inspector. But he promised the Radcliff's that if there any new leads, he would keep them updated. This was a small comfort to the Radcliff's.

But no comfort to the Pongo's.

The phone call of that day was even less comforting.

Upon hearing the phone ring, Pongo quickly scurried off his seat, causing several pieces of newspaper to fly to the floor. He excitingly reached the phone before Roger eagerly but clumsily picked it up.

"Hello? Hello? Inspector?"

"Is Anita there?"

The moment Pongo heard that voice, he felt his heart leap into his mouth.

"Who?" Roger asked. He asked this, not because he didn't know his own wife but because he didn't quite recognize who it was on the other line.

"Anita!"

Roger glared at the phone. "Oh." He handed the phone to his wife. "It's for you."

Anita took the phone and answered. "Hello?"

"Anita darling!" It was that same voice of feigned goodness. Hearing it come from Cruella made the hair on Pongo's body stand on end.

"Oh Cruella," Anita said, recognizing the caller.

Pongo glared angrily. What did that devil woman want with them?

"What a dreadful thing. I just saw the papers. I couldn't believe it."

Pongo raised an eyebrow. Just saw the papers? Couldn't believe it?

"Yes Cruella, it was quite a shock."

What is this nonsense? It happened three days ago!

"What does she want?" Roger said with some heat. "Is she calling to confess?"

Wouldn't that be swell.

"Roger please!" Anita said.

"Oh, she's a sly one she is."

She'd have to be if Scotland Yard found nothing on her.

"Yes, we're doing everything possible."

Pongo looked up at Anita with a sad and hopeless look.

"Have you called the police?"

Pongo's blood thundered. Does she take us for fools?!

"Yes, Scotland Yard. But I'm afraid-."

Roger snatched the phone from Anita and called into it with a commanding and angry voice. "Where are they?!"

Anita snatched the phone back. "You idiot!"

"Anita," Cruella said feigning offense.

"Oh sorry Cruella. If there's any news, we'll let you know."

Roger turned away and fervently smoked his pipe, brooding while doing it.

"Thank you Cruella." Anita hung up the phone. "Roger, I admit she's eccentric but she's not a thief."

"Well she's still number one suspect in my book."

The only suspect I can think of.

"Well she's been investigated by Scotland Yard, what more do you want?"

Roger turned away, bowing his head. "I don't know darling," he sighed. "I don't know."

"Oh Rog, what'll we do?" Anita said sadly, approaching her husband and she wrapped her arms around his middle. "What'll we do?"

Saddened by this dead end, Pongo moved to leave the room. He took one last look at his human companions and then he departed.

It's time to muster on the Twilight Bark, our last hope.

End of Chapter 2