The Case of the Mysterious Kegger

The Hardy Boys - Teenage Demon Hunters

“Do you think that man looks a little strange?” whispered Joe Hardy, as he peeked from behind the curtain of the upstairs bedroom window.  “He looks disturbed.”

The man in question was walking away from their house and appeared hunched over, with the collar of his coat pulled high, near his face.

His brother suggested they go down and ask Aunt Gertrude, “She just talked with him.”

Joe took off and jumped down the stairs, two at a time.  He was blonde, seventeen, and impatient.  His brother, Frank, was a year older, dark-haired and much more mature, though Joe sometimes wanted to debate this point.  For the moment, they were both clueless. 

“Aunt Gertrude, what did that man want?”  Joe blurted out.

“That was no man, Joe.  That was your friend, Chet Morton, and I don’t mind saying he looked terrible.”

“Chet!?” the brothers asked in unison.

“From upstairs, I couldn’t even tell it was him.  He.  Him.  Whatever.”

“He did look strange.” Frank confirmed.

“Well, I didn’t let him in.  He was scaring me.  He was raving about something.  Something about blood and a lot of other disgusting stuff.”  Gertrude, a dark-haired woman, was the sister of Fenton Hardy, the boy’s father.  She lived with them and kept the house.  No one was sure what had happened to the boy’s mother and Fenton would never talk about it.

“Chet?  That doesn’t sound like him.”  Frank wore an expression of concern on his brow.

“I’m not sure it was.” said Aunt Gertrude.

“Gee, G, what do you mean?” Joe asked.

Gertrude just kept shaking her head and stared out the screen door.

The fellows packed a couple of sandwiches and headed out to Chet’s home, on the other side of town.  Bayport had been a quiet place, until the Hardy family moved in.   Had things just started happening or was it the fact that their father was a private detective and the boys had begun helping him, as amateur sleuths?

Chet’s parents were away for the weekend that had just started.  Chet must have been on the lookout for them and met them at the door.  The inside of the house was dark, with all the curtains pulled tight.  Chet didn’t open the screen door and was kind of hidden in the shadows.

Both Frank and Joe thought this was odd, but Chet had always been a little different.

“Hey, guys, come back after dark and let’s have a kegger.” He shut the door  quickly, without giving either of them a chance to speak.  The boys stared at each other.

Frank said, “What an odd thing for Chet to say.”

“Yeah, and he was acting really weird.  I wonder what’s gotten into him.  Aunt Gertrude was right.  He looks terrible.”

“Don’t tell Dad.  We’ll come back tonight and find out what’s wrong.”

The night was a blustery one.  Leaves were blowing by and Joe pulled his jacket closed.  There was barely a moon out and this put both the boys a bit on edge.  When they got to Chet’s, it looked deserted.  The whole house was dark. 

“This is creepy,” whined Joe.

“I guess he’s not home,” said Frank, with a note of relief in his voice.

Just then, the door opened a crack and they heard a voice like Chet’s say, “Come on in.”

They came closer to the darkened house.   They were going up the steps of the porch toward the open door, when they heard a moaning coming from the lilac bushes on the right.  Frank turned and rustled about, but couldn’t see anything.

Joe called, “Hey, Chet!”

It was silent for a moment and then they both heard a shout.  It sounded like Chet.  They rushed in and the door closed behind them, with a slam.  At the same time, in the darkness, a large shadow rushed at them and tackled Joe.  This wasn’t a practical joke on Chet’s part.  Something was really wrong.

Both boys struggled with the shadow and it seemed it was everywhere and possessed superhuman strength.  It was growling and breathing heavily, with breath that could have stopped a clock and them, except, at the moment, time was the least of their worries. 

They caught flashes of what looked like a monster, not Chet.  Whatever it was, it was stronger than both of them together and Frank made the sensible decision to leave.  He managed to trip the beast, grab Joe, and fled through the door.  They didn’t stop running until they got to Willow River road.

Trying to catch his breath, Joe gasped, “That was awful!  I hate Chet.  I’m never going back there.”

Frank, composed, even after the incident, said, “We have to go back.  Chet’s in trouble.”

“He tried to kill us!”

Frank looked Joe straight in the eyes, “He didn’t want to kill us.  He wanted to convert us.  He wanted to bite our necks. “

“You mean…”

Frank nodded somberly, “Yes, Chet is a vampire.  A demon.  A zombie.”

“Hey, I know you never liked him as much as I did, but …”

Without speaking, Frank continued to confront his brother.

Joe turned away and said, “Oh, no.  Not another one?”

Frank nodded again.  “We better get Aunt Gertrude to give us some garlic.”