Foreword: I've been thinking about whether I should update more than once per week, and I decided to do that. The first reason was because a reader has been really anxious to read the next chapter (after a cliffhanger like that, who wouldn't be?). The second reason is because I need to finish this story by the end of this year, and that's not very far away. I want to celebrate my being an author in this website for one whole year by starting a new story. In other words, I'll be giving you the five remaining chapters in less than four weeks. That means I need to update twice per week for some of them. But I would still like reviews. The more I get, the quicker I type, basicly :-). I'm just kidding, of course, but I would want to hear from my readers. So, if you're not in a hurry, please spend a few seconds typing a sentence or two about my story or current chapter. That would help me a LOT in creating my next novel. Read and please review!

10

A Bloody Serenade

For a second, Frank was too awestricken to move. Could it be? Was Nancy actually killed by the fiendish murderer? His entire mind seemed to crash down as he imagined Nancy's bloody body being disposed in an alley. Her eyes were rolled upward and staring blankly at the sky and her beautiful titian hair was redder than ever. Her clothes were also smeared with her blood. She didn't say anything, just stared at the sky…

Frank shook his head violently. The image quickly disappeared and he ran to the stage immediately. Taking the scythe from the string, he looked at it closely. A sudden rush of relief swept over his mind. His knees were so weak from relief that he was about to crumble onto the ground. The red liquid wasn't real blood; it was stage blood widely used during the scenes where the actors or actresses had to fake their deaths.

"It's not real," he said to the other two, who were staring at the scythe in shock. Bess was so relieved that, if it weren't for Joe's supporting her, she would've fallen down on the chair.

"Are… Are you sure?" asked the girl.

Frank nodded. "It's stage blood, and there's a note pasted on the back of this scythe."

The detective took the note off and read it:

"'Stop the investigation, or your redheaded friend would be sacrificed to the MUSICIAN FROM THE GRAVE.'"

Bess was the only one who gasped. "That's the person who sent Nancy that threatening e-mail!"

"What?" Frank shouted, surprised. "You mean, she was threatened by the Musician from the Grave as well?"

Bess shook her head. "She got that e-mail only once. But I saw that there was a picture of the skull just beneath the message."

Frank thought for a moment. "We still need to keep this a secret from the police," he finally said. "If the killer finds out that the police is on to him, he might eliminate Nancy out of the picture—permanently."

"And besides," Joe added, "the police won't do anything until twenty-four hours has passed. That's the rule with those people."

His brother nodded. "And that's the mistake they make," added he. "If the investigation was started too late, then the survival rate of the kidnapped would drop dramatically. We need to act fast."

The detectives first started by looking in the practice rooms. Frank found out that, in the first practice room they searched, there was a scythe hung on the wall that was exactly like the one that was hanging from the ceiling on the stage. He figured out that the kidnapper took the scythe from the room.

Frank looked at his watch. It was already ten past nine. No wonder he was a little tired! The day had been nothing but trouble, and the detective was glad if he could solve the case anytime soon.

As the three detectives went out of the practice rooms after finding no clue there, Frank noticed that his cell phone was again vibrating. He took it out and looked at the phone number of the caller.

"Nancy!" he shouted in joy.

Bess and Joe turned around immediately. "What!" Bess cried out. "Is she okay?"

Flipping his phone Frank immediately called to the person at the other end of the line, "Hello? Nancy? Are you all right?"

"She is all right," an unfamiliar, mechanical voice said with a taunting tone. "In fact, she is just taking a short nap here in my car."

"Who are you?" Frank asked, suddenly noticing that the caller was the kidnapper. That meant that Nancy wouldn't be able to call him even if she woke up! Things were looking worse for Nancy.

"I'm the Musician from the Grave, of course," the voice said, snickering. The kidnapper had actually used some sort of voice-changing device, so the detective wouldn't be able to realize who was calling. In fact, the voice was so distorted Frank couldn't tell if the caller was a woman or a man.

"I know you are the killer who murdered Jack and Katrina. Why did you take Nancy with you?"

The voice laughed menacingly. Because it was mechanically changed, the laugh was more horrifying than the voice itself. "Oh, let's just say that I've already finished by revenge. I just took this detective to warn you to stop your investigation at once."

Frank bit his lip. "And what if we did? Are you going to hand Nancy back to us?"

The caller seemed to think for a moment. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"At least tell me what you want!" shouted Frank in anger. He couldn't take the tone anymore. It was as though the caller was actually toying with the detectives. "Don't let Nancy be in any danger. She doesn't have anything to do with that stupid revenge you talked about just now!"

"Shut up!" the voice demanded. Now, the tone changed from mocking to furious. "Those two deserved to die! Because the police wouldn't do anything, I took the law to my own hands. Those two should be killed long ago, but I decided to torment Jack especially so he would die frightened. I loved the look on his face when I killed him."

This guy is a maniac! thought Frank. If I don't find him soon, who knows what he'll do to Nancy?

"Hey, you!" Frank called. "Tell me what you want. I just want Nancy to be safe!"

"I talked enough," the caller answered, obviously ignoring Frank's statement. "I'll call you back sometime tomorrow. Until then, you'd better stop the investigation or your friend will pay for you…with her life!"

The line went dead. Frank stood there, unmoving. Many feelings were mixed inside him, and he didn't know if he could hold them back.

"Argh!" Frank shouted at the top of his lungs. He then sank down and smashed his fist onto the floor as strong as he could. Bess and Joe just stood there, staring with sorrowful expression on their faces. Frank couldn't handle it anymore; he was feeling anger, despair, sadness, and anxiety all at once, and the four feelings were kept inside him all throughout the investigation. But now that Nancy was kidnapped, he found himself cursing at the top of his lungs. He never felt angrier than this. As he looked, Bess and Joe could see the flaming fury burning inside his eyes. He bit down with his teeth even harder and made a tight fist with his hands.

"I'll never forgive him!" he shouted furiously. "That was the last straw! The killer will be captured, and I'll pay my life to catch him!"

Speed bump.

That was what created a sudden movement in the car, and the girl detective whose hands and legs were bound together awoke as her head hit the seat.

"Where am I?" she asked herself, but the words wouldn't come out. Her mouth was covered tightly with handkerchief that prevented her from doing anything but breathe using her nostrils. It was nearly impossible to utter even the faintest sound.

"What am I doing here?"

A sudden blast from the past reminded her how she came to be bound and gagged in a car. She remembered the scythe clearly. She remembered the pain, the blackness, and her nightmare. She already had in mind who the killer was, but she wasn't sure if that person had actually kidnapped her. It didn't seem practical for that person to actually kidnap her.

"Then who can the kidnapper be?" she thought.

The car turned abruptly to the right, making Nancy almost cry out in pain as her head hit the handle of the door.

And another speed bump.

Nancy tried looking out the window to find out where she was. It was not use. The angle from which she looked out the window only showed her the cloudy sky and some streetlights. There seemed to be a lot of lights just a few miles away, but that was all she could see. It seemed like the car was driving on a highway. The ride was smooth and without stopping. The girl sleuth tried looking at the face of the kidnapper. That was no use, either. The man—or woman—was wearing a black mask, and the only thing Nancy could observe was that the person was about five-ten, just a few inches taller than she. But that didn't rule out anything, since everyone in the quartet was at least five-five, and the manager was five-eight. Who could this person be?

As she wondered, Nancy saw that the car was turning left. This time, she actually slid a little, banging her heels onto the other door. It seemed like forever before the driver stopped the car. Nancy could see less streetlight from the window. The door opened, and a sound of footsteps on a gravel road followed. Nancy could hear the kidnapper's feet making contact with the ground below, making the crunching sound that resembled the sound that a certain cereal would make when poured with milk. Then, the door opened wide. A blinding light shone into Nancy's face, and she couldn't help closing her eyes.

The kidnapper was holding a light next to his—or her—face. That prevented Nancy from seeing his face, and therefore preventing from telling who he was. That was the method many policemen used, and Nancy knew well from her past investigations. The kidnapper then took his hands and put it around Nancy's waist. In one swift motion, he lifted the girl up and carried her to a nearby building.

Nancy could see the scenery now, but she wasn't used to Seattle, so she didn't know where she was. She could see many lights far away in the horizon, but the place in which they were was nearly pitch-black. There were a couple of streetlamps, but that didn't help illuminate the never-ending field that covered the land. Nancy noticed that they were in a warehouse far from civilization—if not from a police station—with nothing more than a black car. The kidnapper took out his keys and opened the door. After that, he flipped the light switch on and entered. Nancy looked around. There was nothing in the warehouse, just a few old wooden boxes.

There the kidnapper put Nancy down and left the place without saying a word.

"This must be my chance!" the girl detective thought, then quickly looked through her pockets.

"Oh no! I can't find my Swiss army knife anywhere! The kidnapper must've taken it when I was knocked out!"

Searching her back pockets, she sighed. No use; the kidnapper took her cell phone as well. She then looked around. There were nothing but boxes as far as she could see. The girl detective felt around the floor. Finally, after minutes of searching, she found a large wood splinter.

"Maybe I can use this to cut these ropes!"

Hopeful, the girl detective started right away. She first started with her wrists.

"Ugh! It's harder than I thought!"

The girl detective tried standing up. When she succeeded, she started rubbing her wrists at the sharp edges of the wooden boxes.

It took a while, but Nancy managed to cut one layer of rope, and that was all she needed to free herself.

When the sleuth completely freed her hands, the door was banged open. The kidnapper was back!

Frantic, Nancy tried to free her feet, but the ropes were tighter than she had hoped. The attacker started to come toward her. When he turned on the light switch, he saw her with her hands freed and desperately trying to free her ankles.

The attacker murmured an angry grunt. He then took out something from his pockets. One was a handkerchief. The other was a small glass bottle used to put medicine in back in the olden days. Quickly, he dabbed the handkerchief with the liquid in the bottle. Taking away the handkerchief which prevented Nancy from talking, the kidnapper covered her mouth with the handkerchief dabbed with the liquid. As soon as she took a whiff of the liquid, Nancy was alarmed. It was chloroform!

Nancy knew that if she didn't breathe in the liquid, she wouldn't be knocked out. So she held her breath as long as she could. But when she ran out of it, she took a big gulp of air. Unfortunate for her, the last thing she smelt was the sour-sweet smell of the knock-out drug.

She remembered nothing more.

Postscript: I'm sure that some of my readers are saying "Whew! I'm glad Nancy wasn't dead!" I know, I've read some fan fictions where Nancy is actually DEAD! And I couldn't help but think how cruel that is to the tradition of Nancy Drew and Hardy boys. But I still liked that fanfic, since it touched mainly on romance and about Frank grieving Nancy's death. In this story, Nancy is thankfully still alive, but don't think that I won't "kill" off Nancy in future novels :-). Anyway, I'm sure you enjoyed this chapter. I won't be putting up sneak previews because the last one kind of revealed the fact that Nancy was still alive. And when the revelation of the killer starts, I won't even tell you the chapter titles!

Countdown: only 5 more chapters to go! And only 2 more chapters till the killer is known.

Next update: December 9 (for real this time!)