Harold Bunnicula Novels & Stories

Sara reported. “Hugo is at work. He works until four or five on Fridays normally,” Rocco said once we stepped outside. “Where does he work?” I asked. “A brothel near Calabogie.” “I know it,” I said, looking at Sara. “You’re free to go.” I turned to Rocco, undoing my alpha aura. We got back into the car and drove just over a half hour to get to Hugo’s place of work. I was familiar with it as that was where we got our wolfsbane darts supply, which would explain how the rogue was able to obtain them.

As he dialed one of the witches number, someone walked into the room in a haste, slammed the door, and leaned against it. Harold looked up— and the phone slipped from his hand, clattering on the floor. His face drained of color turning pale. "Please… I beg you Richard, don't kill me." Richard narrowed his eyes. "Kill you? What are you talking about? Why would I want to kill you?" Harold shook his head violently, pressing himself against the chair. "You're dead Richard… you're a ghost." "You all should stop saying that, am not dead," Richard yelled, frustrated.

It was as if Marcus had vanished, leaving behind only questions and uncertainty. After hours of searching, they finally tracked down one of Marcus’s associates, a man named Harold who worked with him on several business ventures. Harold, a middle-aged man with thinning hair and a nervous demeanor, seemed reluctant to talk at first, but Elara’s determined gaze and Lucan’s imposing presence quickly convinced him to cooperate.

He inhaled the cool air and tried to empty his mind. The inspector’s wife was out in the garden too. She was attending to the shrubs which had felt the full force of the storm. The family dog was busy chasing imaginary objects along the length of the garden. Gone were those days when owners named their dogs Moti or Sheru. With the advent of Hollywood in India, it was chic to call your dog Tommy, Jimmy, Joey or Woody. This particular dog was called Bruno and his futile chase ended as soon as he saw the sub-inspector entering through the gate. With his tail wagging, Bruno sniffed him and paced around him in circles. The sub- inspector seemed pleased with the way the handsome labrador welcomed