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Who is your favorite character from Nancy Drew: Secrets Can Kill (original)?
Connie Watson
Hal Tanaka
Hector "Hulk" Sanchez
Daryl Gray
Mitch Dillon
A phone contact
I didn't like any of the characters
I didn't play this game
Aside from Nancy
Beech: You say nothing to anyone, do you understand me? Mitch: Yes. Beech: Well obviously you don't, because you just fucking spoke!
Small Nancy Drew Meme Compilation #4
Secrets Can Kill - original
Connie Watson
Daryl Gray
Hector “Hulk” Sanchez
Hal Tanaka
Mitch Dillon
Nancy: [picking up the gun in the finale] You stop right there and step away from the high schoolers. And remember, this gun is pointed right at your heart. Mitch: That is my least vulnerable spot.
Unpopular Opinion #2
Mitch Dillon is low-key a better culprit than Louis Chandler, who is the most boring character in the entire franchise. Mitch Dillon in both versions of SCK is a more interesting culprit, and we don’t see him in the Remastered version and we only see him in the original game in the last 45 seconds of the game. At least he goes hard in those 45 seconds and at least he stands out as one of the few murderers in the franchise while Louis is like one of the 20 treasure hunter culprits. And I'm not even fully convinced that Lisa is a better character than Mitch....
Best Laid Plans: a brief Secrets Can Kill story
for @oceandrew because you said you’d read this if I wrote it and for @pinelesstree because you encourage my weird hyperfixations :)
word count: 2329
Jake walked into his room and threw his backpack at the foot of his bed, muttering a few choice words to himself. More carefully, he set his video camera onto his desk, but then swore again and kicked the one of the legs of his desk.
That…maybe could have gone better. He wasn’t planning on Mitch pulling out a gun in the middle of discussing arrangements. Maybe that was some lack of foresight on Jake’s part…. Sure, Mitch was just some stupid criminal, too dumb to go to college, so he worked as a custodian at the pharmacy, school, and as maintenance man on top of his drug racket, but he was still a criminal. Duh, some of them carried weapons.
Jake winced. His face still hurt, though.
But Jake was smart. Smarter than Mitch. While he and Mitch were arguing in front of the video lab in the school (they’d met there at six, and plenty of athletes, janitors, and security personnel were still in the premises, so the door was unlocked), Mitch pulled out his gun, pointed it at Jake, and yelled at him to give him his video tapes and video camera. Jake had yelled back at Mitch, hoping to attract somebody to the video lab to scare Mitch off.
After about a minute, his plan worked, but not before Mitch had hit him with his gun.
Jake winced as he touched the side of his face. That was going to leave a mark. He’d been stunned for a moment, but before Mitch could hit him again, they’d both heard footsteps rapidly approaching the video lab. Once they’d heard the footsteps, Jake ran out the doors of the school, jumped on his bike, and peddled away…though he wasn’t sure where Mitch had gone.
He sat on his bed and cursed to himself again. If that had gone better, then he would have gotten enough money to be out of Paseo del Mar by the end of the week.
If he wanted to get money out of Mitch, he had to do something different. Maybe not meet him in person again, Jake didn’t like getting hit and would rather not repeat such an experience again. Maybe Jake could leave him another note somewhere, or use Daryl or Hector as a deliveryman. Probably Daryl, since he knew Mitch already. Or maybe not, considering who knew what would make Mitch pull out his gun, though Mitch did rely on Daryl for running what was most likely drugs, so Mitch probably wouldn’t attack him. And besides, Daryl wasn’t smart enough to get the best of Mitch. Jake had outsmarted both of them. He could take care of himself. If Jake could organize some sort of dead drop or something, that would be best. Something that wouldn’t require any face-to-face communication with Mitch. Just let him control Mitch from the shadows and then disappear once he got the money he wanted.
He did take comfort in the fact that Mitch hadn’t shot him. Maybe the gun was just for intimidation. Maybe he was all talk and no show. Maybe he wouldn’t really kill anyone.
Jake would just have to watch his back while at work and school to make sure Mitch didn’t show up and mug him.
Something tapped at his window.
He ignored it and stood up from his bed. He’d mostly sorted everything in his room into “I want to take this with me” and “I don’t want to take this with me” when he moved out, hopefully next week, if all went according to plan. He’d almost finished writing the letter to his dad explaining why he’d be randomly gone one day. Though it might be a while before his dad noticed. Their paths didn’t cross all that much. This week was an exception, since with their current house guest, Jake’s father wanted to try to eat dinner together to at least keep up appearances; awkwardly try to get to know his ex’s daughter more while she stayed at their house. Jake doubted his dad would organize a massive search party to pick him up, even if he or someone found the video tape saying Jake was going to Dread Isle. His dad was apathetic like that, didn’t really care about Jake. Jake was, too, he didn’t really care about his father. Their relationship was convenient like that.
The tapping continued.
Maybe he could give Mia some more clues to find his video tapes. Sure, his half-sister would only be here for another few days, but if she really tried, she could probably find all of the clues needed to find the hidden tapes, or at least the one showing where he was heading next week. Especially because some clues were hidden away in the library. She liked reading, so he imagined she’d be especially thrilled to find he’d inserted clues into the library’s catalog. Sure, she didn’t live in Florida, but if she just confidently walked into school or Maxine’s after hours, no one would suspect anything or question her.
More tapping.
And hey, if she--or anyone in the school, though he doubted anyone in the school would find out anything, since everyone at the school were all idiots--found the clues he’d left hinting at his classmates’ misdeeds, good for her/them. If not…well, at least Jake could forget about them when he was on Dread Isle. If Daryl kept up being a drug runner, if Hector continued stealing and using drugs, if Connie kept committing fraud, if Hal kept cheating…karma would catch up to them eventually. They were all obsessed with going to college (waste of time, if you asked Jake, he had showed in the past couple months you didn’t need a college degree to get money), and even if everyone threw away Jake’s messages on the bulletin boards, someone would eventually find out what disgusting hypocrites they were; walking around with their holier-than-thou attitudes while committing crimes of themselves (especially Daryl, Jake genuinely hoped he met the same financial ruin as his father when his perfect, golden boy reputation and appearance crashed and burned eventually, because if there was any justice or karma in the world, that would happen). Maybe it wouldn’t be Jake who ultimately exposed them, but out of sight, out of mind. Thinking about them would ruin his private island/life of solitary luxury, so he’d do his best to avoid letting them ruin his retirement.
The tapping had turned into pounding.
Seriously, what on earth--he thought as he turned around towards his window.
And gasped, jumping backwards, his throat suddenly constricting as his heartbeat shot up.
Mitch was standing there.
How on earth did he--?
He had been tapping on the window with his gun.
Jake pressed himself against his dresser, trying to remain standing, despite his limbs suddenly wanting to give out. Why on earth was Mitch here? This was Jake’s house, he was supposed to have privacy here, how did he follow him here?
“If anything happens to me…”
Okay, he hadn’t actually thought that something was going to happen to him when he’d recorded that on his video tape; he was just supposed to take Mitch’s money and have the guy leave him alone.
Mitch was glowering at him as he made a “come here” gesture.
Jake was feeling rather sick but he tried his best to ignore such feelings as he straightened up--he just startled me, that’s it, I’m fine, I have control of the situation--and walked to the window.
“What do you want?” he muttered, opening his window. “Here to pay up?”
“Not at all. We’re going to meet again.”
“I don’t have anything else to say. Give me the money or I’ll turn you into the police and--”
The word died in Jake’s throat as Mitch shoved the gun into Jake’s face.
“I have a few different things to say,” Mitch said quietly as Jake crossed his eyes staring down the barrel of the gun. “Meet me at the school tonight, by the entrance in the back of the school to the boiler room at 11 p.m.”
“Wh-why do you think I’d be stupid enough to meet you then, when the security’s left for the night by then?”
A ghost of a smirk tugged at the corners of Mitch’s mouth. “It is unfortunate for you, isn’t it? Would you like to know what will happen if you don’t?”
“I can guess,” Jake said, forcing himself to look away from the gun and instead at the man holding it. His face must have been ashen, but he tried to wipe his face clean of emotion as he faced Mitch
“I know where you live, Jake,” Mitch said, his voice uncannily quiet, considering he’d been yelling at Jake at the school not one hour ago. “Obviously. If you aren’t by the school by then, I’ll come here and shoot you. And I’ll shoot anyone else who lives here. And don’t think you can run away, either--my, ah, business, as you called it--it has a lot of people involved all around Florida. Within a few days, they’d all know what you look like.”
Jake didn’t say anything, and Mitch continued, “So we’ll discuss arrangements on my terms, this time--at the school at eleven tonight. I’ll see you there.”
And he put his gun away, backing away from the window. A few minutes later, Jake heard a car engine turn on and drive away.
He exhaled and ran his fingers through his hair, slumping against the wall.
He wanted to meet…tonight…at the school. With no one else around. No risk of security or anyone else running into them.
A sudden, horrible thought slammed into him.
You’re not getting out of this alive.
Shut up!
You’re outclassed.
No, I’m not. I’ve already blackmailed four criminals.
Did any of them come to your house to threaten to murder you?
Shut. UP.
It was almost seven now. He’d have to leave a bit past 10:30 to make it to the school by eleven.
A strangled noise was building up in the back of his throat, and breathing was starting to sound faint, shaky.
Shut UP. Come on, think.
Wait, the bulletin boards…
If he went to the school now, he could make it back to school at about 7:30. The security guards, athletes, coaches, janitorial staff, and maybe some theater kids cleaning up after rehearsal would still be there.
If someone asked what he was doing, he could tell them that he forgot to do something, forgot to leave something on the bulletin boards for tomorrow, say he left something in his locker, something. He just needed a printer and some paper. Maybe just even paper and a pen.
Messages, he could leave messages…
Someone knocked on his door, and he jumped.
“Jake?” Mia called.
He cleared his throat and exhaled slowly, calming down. “Yeah?”
His half-sister opened the door and frowned. “You good? What happened to your face?”
Oh that. Again, he unconsciously brushed against his injury. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just, uh, fell off my bike.”
“Uh-huh. Dinner’s ready.”
“Oh. Right.” He cleared his throat. “Actually, Mia, you and my dad can eat without me. I have to run to the school to do something real quick.”
She frowned and crossed her arms. “You know, you’re weird, Jake. The way you were talking to that kid in the library. You were exchanging papers or something, and that kid really looked unhappy. You told me that you really hate your classmates, and that they hate you…but I guess I underestimated how much. Even walking down the hallway, people were throwing you dirty looks! You don’t seem physically strong enough to shove kids into lockers. And now you show up with the side of your face injured. What are you doing? Why are you exchanging papers with people? Why does everyone hate you? Why do you look like you were punched? And why are you being so mysterious about what you’re doing next week?”
Ooh, she was good. Definitely worthy of being his sister. Jake guessed their mother had been the smart one in her and Jake’s father’s brief relationship, since Jake definitely didn’t get his intelligence and cunning from him.
“I…” He tried to give a confident, nonchalant smirk, but suspected it looked more like a pained grimace. “Um…would you believe me if I told you I have a job, some side-hustles outside of my job at the diner?”
She raised an eyebrow. “You a drug dealer? My friend says that every high school has them. Or do you gamble? That can get you a lot of money if you rig the system. Or do people in a random Florida town have blackmailable secrets?”
You’d be surprised. He shrugged noncommittally, avoiding looking at her. “Something. Uh--I promise I’ll give you more hints and stuff later,” he said, standing up. “I’ll--”
“No, really, are you okay?”
She had dropped some of the accusation in her tone.
“Uh, what do you mean? Of course I’m fine.” He could feel the situation, their conversation slipping out of control, out of his control. Come on, he had this all planned out for weeks. Mitch wasn’t going to ruin his perfectly-laid plans. He wasn’t scared, he wasn’t scared. “I told you that I just fell off my bike. You don’t need to examine everything, you know--”
“It’s not just your face. You look kinda sick and pale, and that’s saying something. You’re one of the whitest guys I know.”
“I--I’m fine,” he said. He really wished she would leave. He could tell that his voice was losing its strength, becoming more unsteady. He kept seeing the gun Mitch had pushed in his face twice now. “But I just have to run to the school and do something real quick. I’ll be back in forty-five minutes or an hour. Don’t wait for me. I’ll…I’ll give you some hints about what’s going on later, okay?”
if you got this far, thanks for reading! if this gets ten notes, I might continue it/make a proper, longer story. I do love my villain protagonists.
bonus points if you caught the literary reference in the title!
