Chapter 2: Arrival at a Distillery
The next morning was bright and crisp. The horrors of the past night would be unthinkable in the bright autumn sun, illuminating the rich mix of reds, oranges, yellows, and browns as the many trees prepared for winter. Yet it was exactly those horrors that brought the occupants of an orange flowered, green and blue-coloured '69 VW van on the winding road to the distillery. For this van had "Mystery Machine" in orange, and inside were the world-famous super sleuths, Mystery Inc. At the wheel was Fred Jones, the all American boy who led the group. Fred was a natural leader; whether he was leading a high school football team as quarter back or convincing a bunch of teens to split up in creepy places. Fred was at the wheel of the gang in more ways than just driver of the van. If Fred was the all American boy, the girl next to him, Daphne Blake, was the all American girl. Despite being a fashion-conscious red-headed cheerleader, who's daddy was the richest man in her hometown of Crystal Cove, she was not above running around dusty, cobweb infested, derelict mansions with her friends. Also in the front seat was Velma Dinky, the smart girl, who always put the pieces of the puzzle together to figure out who done it. Although less glamorous than Daphne, Velma had a more approachable "girl-next-door" air about her. And although not wearing the high fashions of Daphne, Velma's conservative orange jumper did make the boys wonder what was under all that cloth. She wore what use to be called "nerd glasses" before such eyewear became "hipster glasses". Velma once remarked to her friends "I was wearing these before hipsters made them cool to wear…oh dear, I just sounded like the largest hipster ever". Despite Velma's lampshading, it was the other two members of Mystery Inc in the back of the van who more closely resembled hipsters. Rather hungry hipsters. In a green shirt and red pants was Norville Rogers, more commonly referred to as "Shaggy" due to his shaggy beard. Shaggy's other half was a large Great Dane named Scooby Doo. No one really questioned why Scooby could talk, but whatever the reason, Scooby and Shaggy were a duo within the group; always the ones running away from the monster while constantly trying to eat. Although they appeared to be a bunch of meddling kids and a dog without a clue, time and time again Mystery Inc. had brought many masked villains to justice. Word of their mystery-solving skills was so great, even celebrities occasionally requested their services, as was the case with the gang's current job.
"Like, how much further to this haunted distillery, like, I'm starving?" Shaggy asked.
"Only another couple of miles. Usually, I would be excited about being invited to a distillery by the owner. But from the sightings at this place, well, they better provide some refreshments," answered Fred.
"It certainly is an unusual case. The distillery does have a history of unusual happenings, but nothing like the last couple of weeks," replied Velma.
"When it was bought by that pop star, Ke$ha," added Daphne.
"Like, why couldn't we be going to, like, a haunted candy factory?" sighed Shaggy.
"We already did, with Cass Elliot, remember?" said Daphne.
"Raunted rice ream rectory?" inquired Scooby.
"Um, the Neapolitan phantoms case." Fred answered.
"A pepper plantation?" Shaggy proposed in a last ditch attempt.
"That island in Louisiana with the zombies and cat people?" Velma said.
"Oh well, like, at least me and Scoob brought some food, like, right school?" Shaggy turned to look at his dog friend, only to see Scooby gulping down a huge sandwich.
"Well, there went all the food, hehe," mused Shaggy.
"Cool it you two, we're here," ordered Fred as the Mystery Machine pulled in front of their destination. The distillery was a large brick building with a weathered look; not very distinctive at all. The gang exited the Mystery Machine and walked up to the front door. The door made a loud creek as it opened.
"Creeking door, how cliché," mused Velma as the gang walked into the distillery. They had walked into a sort of reception area, with a glass window on the other side of the room. Behind it was a middle aged man wearing a black shirt and blue jeans.
"Ah, you must in Mystery Incorporated?" inquired the man.
"Uh, yes," said Fred.
"Right this way," said the man. He led the gang though a door into some offices, taking them to the largest office in the complex.
"Ke$ha is in here," said the man.
Fred opened the door and led the gang into the room. It was a typical boss' office, with a large desk with a window behind, and some chairs before the desk. Behind the desk was a young blonde womanwearing a designer black hoodie and glitter throughout her face and hair.
"You must be the famous Mystery Inc!" she exclaimed as the gang entered the room. "I am Kesha Sebert," she continued as she stood up and shook all their hands.
"Wow, I'm so excited to meet you. I'm a huge fan," said Velma as she introduced herself.
"I love my animals! And especially appreciate y'all for coming to my aid. Some weird shit has been going down here lately, but from what I've heard, this is y'all speciality. You've helped Cass Elliot, Tim Conway, Jerry Reed, the Hex Girls, Selena Gomez, and many more with paranormal fuckery. I once fucked a ghost, but this one doesn't seem interested in my butterscotch," said Ke$ha.
"What does this ghost seem interested in?" Fred said, raising an eyebrow.
"All I can tell, scaring and hurting my people, which I cannot abide by," said Ke$ha. "Just last night one of the security guards got a broken arm from this fucker."
"Wow, do you know any details?" asked Velma.
"He's bandaged up now, and can answer y'all's questions," said Ke$ha. She picked up her cell phone, pressed a number, and said "Hi, could you send Douglass over…okay, thanks."
In a few minutes in came a middle aged man with his arm in a cast.
"Douglass, this is Mystery Incorporated. They're here to get the motherfucker responsible for what happened to you and the others. If you could answer some of their questions, that might help," said Ke$ha.
"Thank you, Miss Serbert," said Douglass as he took a seat.
"Call me Kesha. And don't you worry about a thing, we'll catch this fucker and chop off his balls. And I'll make sure you're taken care of, and you're spot will be opened when you're well enough to come back to work."
"Thank you so much, Miss..um..I mean, Kesha. My arm is the least of my wounds. I can't get that…thing's…face out of my mind when I try to sleep. I was tired last night as it was. I'm not sure I'll ever sleep again," said Douglass.
"I've found a fifth or two of Jack is a good sleep aid," said Ke$ha, handing Douglass over to the gang.
"Can you tell us what happened, Mr…?" Fred turned to Douglass.
"Braintree. Douglass Braintree. I started working here after I moved from Ashfield because my brother died…some crazy electrocuted him. I thought I'd have a more normal life here, but I was wrong," introduced Douglass.
"It'll be okay, we're here to help. Just tell us what happened," said Fred, placing his hand on Douglass' un-injured shoulder.
"Well, the power went out and I was talking to check the fuse box, when on the catwalk I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye. At first I thought it was nothing, but then a thud landed behind me. I turned around, and I think that's when…it happened…when I started going insane," said Douglass, looking down.
"I know remembering is stressful for you, but it would really help if we knew what we are looking for," said Fred sympathetically.
"It was the most horrible thing I've ever seen, and I've been to Silent Hill!" exclaimed Douglass. "It was pale, ghostly pale, with red eyes, a shrunken face, and a horrible grin! I only saw it for a nanosecond of a nanosecond, but that was enough. I was so filled with horror I jumped off the catwalk, not caring if I died or not, just…just wanted to get away…away from…from that..that…that," Douglass broke down, shaking and holding his face in his hands.
"It's okay, that's enough," comforted Fred.
"You can go now, Douglass. I'll take care of all your medical bills, just get well in both body and mind," said Ke$ha.
"T.t. you," said Douglass as he left the office, still shaking.
"Wow, whatever it was, must be pretty bad to shake up a person that badly," observed Daphne after Douglass had left.
"He isn't the first; we've had four other such attacks. All the descriptions have been consistent; some pale fucker with red eyes and a disturbing grin," said Ke$ha.
"What can you tell us of this distillery?" asked Velma.
"Well, it was built in the late 1800's by an Irish immigrant named Killian O'Mal. His family ran the place until this year, when his great great grandson had to sell the place to pay off some debts. His son, Killian's great great great grandson, was pretty upset about losing the family business. My manager told me having a Ke$ha line of whiskey would be a great seller, but so far this has been a nightmare. Since the first day, the son, Cennétig O'Mal, has been coming by, saying how the ghost of Killian O'Mal is going to run me out of here…" said Ke$ha. Just then there was a call on her cell phone. A few second after she answer it, she had an exasperated look on her face and said "him again…fine, yeah, let him up here, again."
"Speaking of the devil, the little psycho has come again," Ke$ha told the gang.
A few minutes later, the office door flew opened as a short man with ginger hair stormed into the office.
"Aye, now who may these blokes and lasses be?" inquired O'Mal upon seeing the gang.
"They're Mystery Incorporated, come here to stop your ancestor from acting like such a little bitch," replied Ke$ha.
"Aye, ghosts still givin' you trouble? I'd be more than willing to take ta trouble o' this place off yer hands," said O'Mal.
"Listen, I've actually been thinking," said Ke$ha, annoyed, though clearly in thought. "I don't know that much about this business, besides the consumption of the product; neither does anyone I know. I'm guessing you do. How about you just work here as top manager. You'd only answer to me and I'll let you run it however you like as long as it turns a profit."
"Ha! Be some blonde whore's bitch to work in me birthright! Shove it up yer arse, ya blonde whore!" answered O'Mal.
"Fine. Just get the fuck out of there and stop bothering me," said Ke$ha. "Please don't make me call security to escort you out…again," she added.
"I'm perfectly able to see meself," said O'Mal as he turned to leave. "Are yer sure yer able to stay here?" he added with a laugh before shutting the door behind him.
"Well, he's certainly friendly," noted Shaggy.
"Reah, ras riendly ars I ram to ra rat," said Scooby.
"You mean cat, don't ya Scoob?" joked Velma.
"Reah…rou know rhat I rean," replied Scooby.
"He certainly would have a motive for scaring you away, "said Daphne. "And he probably knows the place pretty well, so he could pull something like this off."
"True, but first we need to find some clues," said Fred.