Author's Note: Hello everyone and welcome to Nancy's 2nd story following the universe in which Nancy Drew and theCurse of Black Lake is set, and if you haven't read that one yet, I would advise you to do so before reading this one, though it's not required, as characters and past events will sometimes be mentioned throughout this story, so to get full context it's best to read Black Lake first, though it could be argued this also is a good stand alone story on its own. Whichever, whatever... Not to be confused with my other stories here for the fandom, these two stories tie-in and are part of the same universe, so hopefully that avoids any confusion. Summary: Nancy Drew and the Mystery of the Silent Visitor which takes place in this alternate universe with Ned out of the picture (sorry Ned fans, I've just never liked him with Nancy), Nancy and Frank are adjusting to their new relationship and both are still reeling from the events that surrounded their last case and the dealings of Todd Baines, mass murderer of Maine. Seeking a quiet summer, Nancy vows to help clear the name of a friend and goes undercover, getting a job in a quaint little cafe as a waitress to clear her friend's name as well as save up money for an end-of-summer beach trip Frank has planned for just the two of them, only to find more than she bargained for when she starts receiving threatening notes from an unidentified man who seems entirely too fast for her to catch, and well-timed accidents point towards the restaurant being a victim of sabotage...with Nancy as the suspected culprit. This next one will be kind of long as well, but it's already written out and finished, and I will be posting 2 chapters a week, one on Tuesday, the other on Saturday.

(P.S. A few fun facts for the upcoming chapter) The town of Cherry Valley, IL and Blood Points Road and the Cemetery which are featured in this chapter a little bit is a very real, supposedly haunted place. I haven't had the pleasure of visiting it yet, but I'd like to one day. Some parts, at least for this first chapter and the purpose of storytelling, have been a little embellished, but I don't want to spoil too much!)

I hope you enjoy!

Chapter One

Eighteen-year-old Nancy Drew's cries were lost beneath the thunder that rolled overhead. The sky was so low that even outside on the hills like this she was claustrophobic. If she didn't find Frank soon, even his scent would be washed away by the oncoming squall. And then they'd both be wet, cold and frightened, not to mention lost as the night was encroaching quickly, adding to the gloom. She called out for her boyfriend again, shrill but loud.

Anything to pierce the thick air. She ran on and called again; her words clipped by another oppressive boom. After several long seconds of silence, she heard a shout in response to her own. It was a way off, that much she could tell and coming from closer towards the edge of the cliff, near the shore. The thunder rolled overhead like the fury of the gods. It tumbled toward them through the darkened clouds, spreading out into the night, hailing the promise of rain to the land below. She cupped her hands around her mouth and screamed. "Frank!" she shouted, straining to listen for him.

Then…there it was again, that low growling noise, an ominous sound for sure, but whatever it was, it didn't sound human. Nancy swallowed nervously and glanced upward at the black rolling clouds as the storm threatened to drench both the amateur teen detectives.

But she had no time to dwell on whatever was making that horrible clicking noise, that sounded dangerously too close as she wildly searched for Frank Hardy. Lightning came, a brilliant shock of white in the graphite sky, forking silently to the unsuspecting ground - the thunderous boom always calling its warning too late. Then…she heard a faint muffled cry, a man's voice. "Frank," she breathed, exhaling a sharp breath and took off in a sprint towards the edge of the forest, never mind the mud that was squelching beneath her open-toed sandals. Bess was going to murder her, but she'd deal with Bess Marvin later. Right now, she just wanted to find Frank.

Nancy drew in a sharp breath that still pained her ribcage. A hand on her side to steady herself, the other, her fingers were curled into a protective vice grip over the strap of her purse, she closed her eyes, willing her breathing to return to something that even closely resembled normalcy.

She felt like she couldn't even move without a plant or twig touching her skin. Everything Nancy and Frank had loved about these woods this morning was elevating the young woman's heart rate and killing her logical thinking capacity. The sheer denseness of the woods' foliage had made both her and Frank feel cozied, like in all this vast space, they could still be snug.

But now...

Now, however...the thousands of noises crashed over Nancy, overriding her senses and setting her brain to that same chemical soup it was in when she'd first realized she'd fallen in love with Frank Hardy. But such a mindset wouldn't help her now. She'd wandered way too far in her search for her boyfriend.

It has been Frank's idea to come here...

Now the closeness, that same closeness, the sameness, really, the noises were to Nancy like robbers at the door, banging at the front door and the phone lines were dead. Her wide-open blue eyes moved with pointless speed. She wanted nothing more for this impending storm to dissipate, to see blue sky and space all around her—not these twisted tree limbs' arms that groped and lofty limbs that blotted out even a single patch of night sky.

She wanted to run, but she didn't know which direction to take. She was well and truly lost, and no sign of her boyfriend anywhere, not for miles…

Nancy could feel the sweat drench her skin, the throbbing of her own eyes, the ringing screams vibrating in her ears, and the thumping of her heart against her chest. The detective glanced down at her dress and sandals and mumbled an inaudible curse under her breath. She really wished she would have chosen to wear a sweater and jeans instead of this outfit she had perhaps foolishly allowed Bess to dress her in before her date with Frank.

Had she known this date with Frank was going to turn into a fight for their lives, she would have dressed more appropriately, but it was too late for that. At least for now, her dress was still very much intact, and sandals not ruined.

Her fingers were curled into a fist over the strap of her purse, her purple-manicured nails digging into her palm hard enough to pierce the soft flesh. It hurt, but she ignored the pain. Nancy had more important matters to deal with now. Such as finding Frank and getting out of here.

"Before it comes back," she whispered, feeling her blue eyes grow wide and round as a dinner plate as she glanced furtively over her shoulders for any source of that strange noise she'd heard over the last few minutes in the wood. Nancy couldn't hear her rapid breathing, but she could feel the oxygen flooding in and out of her lungs. Hesitantly, she took a timid step forward. Then another. And another. "So far so good," she whispered, careful to keep her voice low, and she let out a startled gasp of pain and a cry of surprise as her footing faltered and she tumbled to the ground, or would have, had she not immediately shot out her arms to the nearest tree branch to catch herself before she could hit the ground. Heaving to catch her breath, Nancy lifted her chin slightly to look at whatever it was she tripped over.

"Oh," was all she could manage, and her voice came out in a low breathy little squeak. "F—Frank? Is that you? Please don't dead, please don't be dead..." she whispered, kneeling to get a closer look. The body she had stumbled over wasn't his, and looked to be a young woman's. Thank God it wasn't Frank, but…but…

The corpse was almost devoid of skin and pitted by burrowing insects. Nancy turned away as her stomach heaved, nostrils filled with the smell of rotting flesh. Without eyelids, the milky blue eyes stared into the frozen sky, while the lip-less mouth hung wide open in a silent eternal scream, their last.

The woman on the forest floor was lifeless. Lifeless. Her auburn hair was scattered in multiple places, stained with dried blood, crimson. Her blue eyes were wide open, but they held a sudden sadness. Her clothes, a dark green sweater and some black jeans, were bloody and torn, almost shredded.

And the smell. The smell was the most disturbing thing Nancy had ever sniffed. "Oh, that's disgusting!" she moaned, fighting back waves of nausea and tried not to breathe in any more of the awful scent of death than she had to. She crinkled her nose in disgust and pinched her nose shut with her thumb and forefinger. Her heart pounded as one question continued to race through her mind: Who…or what…did this to the poor woman? What…

Fear tortured her stomach, churning it into tense cramps as she looked at the dead woman sprawled out onto the woodland forest earth floor at her feet. Nancy had a feeling all too well what did this to the poor woman, and she didn't want to stick around to find out exactly what it was, or to become the creature's next victim. Fear engulfed Nancy's conscience, knocking all other thoughts aside except for finding Frank and getting out of here.

Nancy turned away sharply from the dead woman on the forest floor, unable to look at the body any longer, for she was afraid she'd vomit.

She could taste the bile coating the back of her throat, the stomach acid lining her throat, but she resi sted the urge to throw up, swallowing hard. Nancy pulled a face at the disgusting taste, wishing she had a bottle of water. Then she remembered she did. In her bag.

"Thank you, Hannah," she breathed, unzipping her purse to pull out a small bottle of Aquafina. Her father's housekeeper, Hannah Gruen, must have snuck it in her bag before she left, alone with a couple granola bars and a medium size bag of plain chocolate candy, Milk Duds, her favorite. "You're a godsend, Han," she breathed, unscrewing the lid from the bottle and taking a hearty swig, washing down the disgusting taste from her mouth.

She allowed herself a few more sips before deciding she'd need to conserve what she had in case Frank needed some, securing the lid back on the bottle tightly and plunking it back into her little square dark brown canvas crossbody the color of coffee, a gift from Hannah to replace the one that got ruined when she and Frank had been solving the Curse of the Black Lake. The fear overwhelmed the young detective's body, making it feel drastically exhausted, and rightfully so.

She'd been looking for Frank for at least fifteen minutes, taxing her body and pushing it, her injuries from her last case up at the Black Lake constantly sending fiery jolts of pain up her spine and screaming for relief, begging with Nancy to sit down and rest. But she couldn't do that.

She had to find her boyfriend and get out. However, even as she walked deeper into the woods, the fear was making Nancy calm and that was what scared her the most, more than anything…

A light but firm tap on her shoulder elicited a terrified scream from Nancy as she whirled around to see who it was, and upon seeing the face of the stranger in the woods with her, felt her shoulders slump and relax, the tension in her muscles immediately leaving her as she breathed a sigh of relief. "Frank," she whispered, her voice coming out as a choked whisper, a hand over her racing heart. "Thank God!"

He was looking startled at her outburst. "Well, yeah," he confessed, reaching up a hand to scratch at an itch behind his ear. "Who else would it be, Nan? I don't think there's anyone out here but you and me and…" But Frank Hardy's voice trailed off as he followed his girlfriend's gaze, watching with a concerned look as she took a step towards the edge of the woods, seemingly staring up at one of the street signs on the outermost rim of the woods. "Nan?" he called out; concern laced throughout his voice. When she did not respond, he began to grow worried. "Nance?" He tried again. Still nothing. Furrowing his brow into a frown, he strode over to where his girlfriend stood, her maxi wrap dress swaying in the breeze, the wind of the oncoming storm tousling her red hair into buoyant curls.

The young woman still did not respond, even when he laid a gentle hand on her left shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze, hoping the reassuring gesture was enough to comfort his girlfriend and silently communicate that they were going to get out of this together, like they always had in times past.

The wind was howling like some horror movie opener, and the street that lay before her and Frank at the edge of the woods was as dark as night.

When Frank managed to focus his eyesight a little better to see what it was that she was looking at, a quick glance at his watch on his wrist confirmed that it was almost midnight. Nancy's red hair was whipping so violently about her face, it was a wonder she could see anything at all, or him for that matter. There were no cars in the neighborhood and no people. It was eerie.

Newspapers tumbled around the asphalt as if caught in invisible laundry machines. The tall dark oak trees that lined the edge of the neighborhood creaked and swayed in the wind, screaming as their limbs strained against the onslaught. Frank, without waiting to be asked, seized Nancy's free hand that hung limply at her side and pulled her back a few steps. He didn't like this.

"I think we're lost, Frank," Nancy whispered in a hoarse, raspy voice that didn't sound like her at all.

"Really?" he asked, glancing up towards the street sign. He swallowed back a lump forming in his throat as he looked up at the words painted there.

Bloods Point Road in Cherry Valley, Illinois, was definitely a place they'd been to before. Several times, in fact. "I think we should get out of here…"

Frank decided that just by one look he hated this street. He hated and loved everything on this street at the same time. Why? Just because. They had been here before, and each time, the dangers got progressively worse. He hated all the road signs, the restaurants that used to be here. Bloods Point Road was like a skeleton, stripped of its flesh long ago by the locusts that swarmed. In the pre-dawn darkness, the street hardly looked different than it did a decade ago.

The lack of illumination from the streetlamps gave it away first. At this time, their glow should be yellowing the pattering of the tiny raindrops that had started to fall and casting a smudgy beam onto the black street. The cars parked in the houses' driveways were still there, waiting for owners that simply did not want to go outside.

Perhaps they were still in their beds, but they wouldn't rise with the sun. They'd been warned to lock their doors and stay inside until the killings stopped. It was why Frank and Nancy were drawn to this place, you see.

The rumors of killings and a potential mystery to solve had led them here. The road and cemetery of the town in Midwestern Illinois were said to be haunted, which, naturally, had piqued Frank and Nancy's interest for months.

They'd been talking of nothing else except coming here, but they wanted to wait for the right time to investigate, and what better way to do that than shortly before Halloween?

The most common urban legends of the road and bridge included mysterious hand prints on your car, or your vehicle getting pushed to one side of the bridge. A school bus falling onto train tracks, and phantom hitchhikers. There was a bridge on Bloods Point Road where supposedly a school bus went off the bridge and a bunch of kids died. They had been warned by a local grizzled old man at the gas station when they'd stopped that the tree's wooded limbs would stretch in an effort to reach out and grab you.

Perhaps the trees were attempting to warn Nancy and Frank to stay away, to warn the pair of amateur detectives of things to come if they dared to continue on, but many locals in the town claimed that the heavily wooded forest, where the trees breathed life, was where the ghosts congregated at nighttime, and if you were quiet and patient, you'd be lucky enough to catch their every move until they caught sight of those who dared to trespass upon their sacred grounds. Nancy, naturally, was curious. There were rumors of a haunted house somewhere in this very neighborhood, and Frank could tell by that familiar gleam of intrigue and determination in Nancy's sky-blue eyes that they weren't leaving until she'd at least gotten a good look at the place.

It wasn't too hard to find. The tall gray house stood in the middle of the empty, seemingly abandoned street. Frank could swear he could almost sense the evil presence within as it darkened up the road. He could hear the floors creek as the spirits roamed and wandered the soulless, haunted house.

The house itself looked for all the world, Nancy thought, like it had grown there rather than be built. She guessed it helped that the structure was made of the same rock as the hills. The walls were wonky and the chimney ragged.

The locals claimed this was the oldest house in the entire town. Haunted. That folks who dared to venture into the house, mostly teenagers or kids on some kind of dare or a rite of initiation into some club, never came out. Then there were tales of a luminous treasure inside, of gold from way back when the settlers came, stacks of it, that the legends were put there by old pirates and sea-faring men to keep the inbred, nasty villagers away from it.

But she and Frank weren't dumb. Gold was gold and the spooks should be scared of them. Nancy turned, starting towards the driveway to the house.

Her heart sank when she came across the Do Not Enter sign sprawled across one of the boarded-up windows, and the yellow construction tape surrounding the property was more than enough to keep her away. A surge of anger coursed through her bloodstream, which quickly gave way to disappointment.

Nancy felt her fingers curl into the iron grille of the gate, glancing upward at the supposed haunting. She really wanted to go inside and have a look around. She gave a harsh tug on the gate's padlock. "It's locked," she breathed, and had a moment of inspiration. She dug into her purse in one of the outermost zippered pockets for a bobby pin. Not quite as elaborate as the lock-picking kit she had at home, but it would have to do. "I think I can get us in there, Frank!" she grinned.

She'd barely begun to jiggle the pin in the lock when she felt Frank lightly but firmly slap her hand away and swipe the bobby pin out of her hands. "Wha...?" Nancy glanced up at Frank, quite flustered.

"No," he answered firmly. He pointed towards the yellow tape. "Did you forget, Nance? It's not safe." Like it or not, the sight had been condemned, and was due to be torn down. Nancy briefly wondered if the construction crew would find anything. That was…if they were brave enough to venture near it in the first place. She let out a disheartened sigh and turned back towards her boyfriend. "Sorry, Nan," he breathed in a tone that if Nancy wasn't mistaken, sounding slightly relieved. "I know you were itching to go in there, but…"

"We'll just find something else," she finished for him. "Come on, Frank, there's bound to be something. We didn't come all this way for nothing."

Blood Point Cemetery was supposedly another haunted hot spot, where a pack of vicious Hell Hounds were said to guard the resting place of the dead.

Nancy, naturally, was most interested in those, hoping to catch a glimpse of the so-called 'ghost dogs' for herself, and her mind briefly wandered back to her case in Moon Lake, Pennsylvania, when she'd helped her father's friend, Sally MacDonald, debunk the myth that Mickey Malone's hounds were haunting her little cottage in the woods. Last time she had called to check on Sally, she had adopted all four of the Doberman puppies and was training them. How's that for irony? Nancy thought, a wry smile creeping onto her face despite the seriousness of their situation.

The very dogs that had almost scared poor Sally away for good were actually a few of the sweetest, most even-tempered dogs Nancy had met. She was just grateful all four dogs now had a safe, loving home with Sally, and she wouldn't be surprised to learn that maybe someone was doing the same thing that Emily Griffin had done, using real dogs that had been trained to become these 'Hell Hounds' in an attempt to scare people away for good. Clearly, something was in the cemetary he or she didn't want folks with an inquisitive mind like Frank or Nancy snooping around and finding out their secret.

"But why?" she asked out loud to herself as she crept closer towards the gate. "If somebody really is doing this, training dogs to scare people away? Why? What would be their motive for scaring away everybody? Why?"

The reports and rumors of these so-called 'ghost dog' attacks were growing more vicious and increasing in number as time went on. Or so the sheriff had said. One of their first stops into the town had been the local law enforcement branch, where the pair had been met with scorn and ridicule for wanting to ask questions about the haunting over the years. Why they happened. It was always a question she was fond of asking in their line of work. Why.

A question that often got on Chief McGinnis' nerves...

Frank smirked at the note of worry that was laced in Nancy Drew's voice. He let go of her hand and folded his arms across his chest, grateful his new plaid shirt kept him warm as another gust of wind whipped through the air. "Why, Drew?" he teased playfully and reached out a hand and gingerly socked her on the shoulder. "I know that look. You're afraid, Nan. You afraid the Hell Hounds will get us?" He glanced around, as if expecting one of the ghost dogs to pop out of midair and attack them both. "I'm pretty sure those are just legends, Nan…Never thought you'd be scared of a mystery…"

Nancy let out a huff of frustration and stomped her foot in agitation. "Scared, huh, Frank? You're going to pay for that remark later." She scrunched her nose and pulled a face, sticking her tongue out at Frank and jabbed a manicured finger in his chest, shoving him back slightly. "But…" Nancy stuck out her bottom lip in a slight pout and turned her head to the left. Frank repressed a groan as he saw where his girlfriend's attention was drawn to. "Don't you want to take a look? Just to see…"

"Nan, no, c'mon, we don't have time for this! Do you even see those clouds? It's going to rain on us soon and we're going to be caught right in the middle of it if we can't find our way back to the car and get out of h—" But Nancy Drew was, as usual, ignoring Frank Hardy's warnings.

He groaned, calling out after her again a few more times, but his girlfriend had already turned her back and was headed towards the spooky old cemetery that the residents of the town warned them to stay away from, right from the start. But since when did Nancy ever listen? Frank thought, exasperated, and immediately followed suit, having to jog to catch up to Nancy. The cemetery whispered under the sallow moon, the moon currently hidden behind a haze of gray clouds, a frigid wind rustling the newly browned leaves, each of them becoming crisper and more colorful as Halloween drew closer.

Nancy moved across the cold earth on tiptoes, her feet faster than any runner that Frank had ever known, and she was walking. Her heart accelerated as she passed by each passing stone, her face rigid. All that was left of the fine people of this cemetery was the decrepit stones. Under the soil was nothing but even more soil. Even bones didn't last this long in the damp ground. Yet still, this place was nowhere to be after nightfall. No one comes here who means any good, except for Nancy and Frank, and even though the place was currently empty, it put the chills on even the toughest of people, Frank Hardy and Nancy Drew included.

Her fingertips brushed the inscription of one of the gravestones, when a noise nearby caught her ear and Nancy perked up at the sound, straightening up, her fingers curling into a tight fist around the strap of her purse, the other hand instinctively reaching for Frank and giving his hand a tight squeeze. A slight sheen of sweat had begun to form on her brow, and there was no mistaking the skittish behavior his girlfriend was starting to exhibit.

Frank knew her well. He knew that Nancy was beginning to regret coming here. Through the eerie silence and the darkness came the glow of two yellow eyes, like sallow lamplight eight feet off the ground. They moved with a slight sway, as if the unseen body prowled like a big cat or a huge, hulking dog. Frank and Nancy froze, rooted to their spots, unable to move at all.

The eyes, however, did not in fact, freeze. Instead, they moved, following Frank and Nancy's movements with slow acceleration as the pair of eyes crept closer.

"Frank…" whisper-hissed Nancy through clenched teeth, her eyes wildly darting around the cemetery, looking for a way out, or perhaps an oversized fallen tree limb that they could use as a weapon, a means of self-defense.

Frank opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a strangled attempt at speech. The pair watched as the gentle snapping of twigs and crunch of leaves suggested perhaps that a deer or rabbit was moving in the black shadows of the forest edge near the cemetery. Yet the beast was neither. Oh, it was a dog all right, but nothing like they had ever seen.

It was three hundred and forty pounds of dense muscle, claws and fangs. This behemoth had acquired the ability to move with more stealth over the past half century, it found that with this technique the necessity for chasing was reduced. Once in position, the only noises coming from this huge, hulking beast were the excessive panting brought on by the anticipation of fresh meat, its first real meal in about five years, and the steady drip of the gelatinous saliva onto the mud. As the scent of the humans wafted to his oversized nostrils, he made the noise of a wounded dog, whimpering, pitiful.

Nancy's heart lurched, and she greatly fought the urge to step forward and try to comfort the beast. One glance over at Frank was more than enough.

He gave a curt shake of his head no, an arm held out in front of Nancy, as though he thought that would be enough to ward off the creature's attack.

The Beast of Blood Points Cemetery made a noise that elicited a startled jump from both Nancy and Frank, not having anticipated the noise. A soft yelp. A whimper. These types of noises drew the other four-legged creatures of the Alpha's pack closer every single time, almost without fail.

Then, the beast would launch forward with such rapid speed, the snatched victims often had no time to cry out or call for help, they just…vanished.

If their friends were foolish enough to search for the poor sods, then so much the better. It would become a feast for the Hell Hounds of Blood Point Cemetery. The leader of the back let out a low warning growl, baring its yellowed canines, its yellow eyes glinting dangerously in the moonlight.

The monster preferred to toy with its food rather than killing it fast. The first strike was with a poisoned claw to slow the reaction time of his meal, after that, it was play time. The 'meal' would be allowed the chance to run, to feel the pounding of their own heart just a few more times and then the dogs would sink their teeth into their necks—just deep enough to let them bleed out slow before feasting. The creature drew back its head and howled.

That was more than enough.

"Nance, run!" Frank urged, violently shoving Nancy backwards, towards the direction of the cemetery gate. "Make for the woods, maybe we can lose it!" he shouted, taking Nancy's hand and pulling her forward into a run.

Her breathing came in small spurts, hot and nervous, as the pair bolted for the forest again, the baying howls of the pack of Hell Hounds right behind them. At her sides, pale fingers curled into sweaty fists, swinging forward as if it would make her run faster. "I..I think we found them!" she panted, gasping for breath. "You think they're real?" she shouted to him.

"Who cares?" he retorted, sounding almost angry with Nancy, shoving her forward rather violently, a move which normally would have gotten her blood boiling, but Nancy knew it was meant as a gesture of protectiveness, making sure she had a good chance to get away before thinking of saving himself. "Just run!"

Nancy nodded her agreement, throwing herself forward with even greater abandon. Nancy's heart and lungs were pumping, but the air didn't seem to be enough as she sprinted forward, panic trembling in her exhausted limbs.

Her blue eyes widened, breathing ragged and harsh. Her hands trembled at her sides and she jammed her fist into her mouth to stifle her scream of fear.

She'd heard the creature coming, the pounding susurration of its footsteps, like a threatening whisper almost. It was incredible to her how light it moved. Maybe it really is a ghost, she thought wildly. It didn't seem to come from any direction, just a sound that encapsulated her inside her cocoon of despair and hopelessness as they hid behind the trunk of a large oak tree.

They probably weren't going to make it out of this alive. Nancy's legs were frozen into place, so following Frank's lead as best she could, she crouched into a crawl and dragged herself towards the edge of the woods, gasping. Nancy clawed at the forest ground with bitten nails, effectively ruining her new manicure, and her jaw dropped open in a silent scream of horror as her eyes rested on the beast's massive black paw and claws, standing in front of her.

The thing lunged at her, a dark shape of matted fur that smelled of wet dog and blood latching onto her back. She struck the ground, hard, and lay there, convulsing and twitching. Frank's screams were ringing in her eardrums. From the darkness, came the sound of heavy limbs being dragged across the forest floor. Whatever it was, it was massive. She blearily lifted her head and tried to focus her gaze a few feet in front of herself. "Frank…"

Every once in a while, would come a cracking noise like bone on wood, or at least, that's what Nancy's overactive imagination perceived it to be—a thick skull crashing into a trunk. She prayed to God or whoever was up there that it wasn't Frank's.

This beast was neither lithe, nor graceful.

Nancy let out a scream as the creature towered over her limp form on the ground and she winced, turning her chin sharply as a drop of the dog's saliva fell onto her cheek. She clenched her eyes shut, letting out a whimper of fear. A string of curses unraveled from her tongue, like yarn unfurling, as the Beast of Blood Point Cemetery advanced. Its fur was matted and tangled, the creature huge and grotesque with mattered fur and huge twisting paws. The contorted figure seemed to eclipse the moon itself with how big it was. Roughly the size of that English Mastiff Nancy had read about on the Internet once, Hercules, she thinks the dog's name was, it would be an appropriate name for this one towering over her, ready to eat her bones.

"Nice dog, good boy," whimpered Nancy as it let out a low growl. "Just...calm down, be cool, oh, please don't eat us. We don't taste very good..."

This dog was anything but a good boy, as it hunched on its shoulders, shackles raised, yellow teeth bared and snarling, poising to attack Nancy. Every step it took rattled Nancy's bones and struck her heart. She tried to dodge a swing from its massive paws, but it struck her side and she tumbled into the dirt. She could hear nothing. All was silenced. Frank's screams, the low guttural growls of the leader of the Hell Hounds and its pack members.

All Nancy could do was feel. Feel the cold ground pressed against her form, the heat from the pain, and the rhythm of the drum of her heartbeat that would soon signal her end. She looked upwards, trying to look at Frank. Nancy closed her eyes and prepared to feel a searing pain, her very last.

There was nowhere to run…