Disclaimer - I do not own Scooby Doo, nor is this a fanfiction for the "Velma" series but a re-write. My love for Scooby Doo is vast and deep. One of the biggest reasons I started to write. My biggest childhood dream was to write an episode of Scooby Doo but since that dream might not be reality I'll make my own.
This series is not for children. Gore, violence, LGBTQ+ hate, death, murder.
This is a love letter to Scooby Doo. Especially to Fred Jones. My first masculine costume as a little scared kid.
- Eros Flintlock
Episode 1: Follow the White Rabbit"Her brain never found its way back to her body," her voice cracked as she read the newspaper clipping in her hands.
Dark tear stains dropped to the porcelain sheet that stood out against her brown skin. She brushed them away with a quick movement of the hand as her eyes trailed the words as if she could change the outcome by reading it over and over loudly to herself.
Thunder rumbled in the distance as Velma got to her feet. Making her way back to the wall on the opposite side of the bed, the teen placed the clipping back in the empty spot among the others. Articles of her mother's disappearance covered the once empty space, aligned with red pins, long, thin string, and notes written in dark sharpie.
The shadows in the room jumped as lightning bolted outside, followed by another crack. The teen pulled her thick glasses from her face to blot out more tears with the back of her hand.
She'd figure this out. Somehow. Right?
"Velma,"
A male voice called from another room. It was muffled but clear.
"I'm getting ready for bed," she called back, grabbing a bottle of pills off her desk and closing the textbook in front of her. A few pages of colorfully written math problems floated to the floor.
"Make sure to take your medicine," the soft voice called before the sounds of footsteps could be heard leading to another part of the small home.
"I already am," Velma whispered with a scoff as she looked down at the bottle of Haldol. It made her restless and unable to sleep.
Staring at the orange pill bottle. Opening the top drawer of her desk and placing it inside. She was sick of the medication. Tired of the therapy. She knew she'd never sleep right until she could solve the mystery that haunted her for so many years.
Velma grabbed the door to the old car, yanking it open with a laugh.
"Finally," she said as she climbed into the front seat, kicking at the old cans of soda and bags of stale french fries.
"You can drive again. I hated having my dad take me," Velma said with a snort filled laugh. Her friend grinned, sticking his nose up in the air.
"Been six months," he practically sang, his voice cracking as he spoke. "Day one of driving again. No seizures for this epileptic," he remarked, jabbing his chest with a thumb. She buckled the seatbelt, letting her bag drop with a clatter onto the trash covered floor. The car roared to life as Velma snatched a handful of paperwork off Norville's dashboard.
"What's this? Did you actually do your homework?" she gasped, holding up a math sheet. He shook his head. "That's from a week ago. I forgot to turn it in," he said, brushing fingers through his locs. Velma flipped past the homework and glanced at the paperwork below it.
"Did you finally find a service animal?" she asked, holding up the paper with a picture of a sad looking dog on the cover. He let out a loud, dramatic sigh.
"No, having a hard time deciding on one with my mom."
"You'd probably make whatever animal you get fat anyways," she teased, snatching up an old Mcdonald's bag from the floor. He laughed, waving a hand in embarrassment.
"She's just so picky."
"In her defense, you did fall into the punch bowl at the dance. Now you need a dog to protect all that defenseless watered down lemonade," she said, skimming over the words on the paper before going to the next one.
"I tried to tell her I was just tasting it, but-"
"It wasn't a sandwich?" Velma finished his joke for him, causing him to let out a hardy laugh.
"If I had a seizure and woke up in a sandwich, I'd be a mix of terrified and delighted," he said.
"Me too. That'd mean we were being eaten by cannibals or something," she pointed out.
"You're too spicy. They'd spit you out."
Velma snorted at this as she playfully batted him with the paperwork.
"And you'd be too gamey."
Crystal Cove High appeared in the distance as the pair continued to chat. Her eyes glanced out of the window, catching the gaze of a police officer who stood in front of the elementary school with an ambulance and three squad cars. Her smile faded.
"I wonder what happened," she whispered, more to herself than her friend.
"Not sure," Norville replied. "Maybe they finally arrested the lunch lady. Those sloppy joes always looked toxic."
Velma didn't reply. She simply stared through the window as a body bag was carted out.
"Why do we have to always shower together," the teen groaned as she glared into the mirror, flicking some of her red hair from her face with a long, green nail.
"Daphne, not this again," the teen beside her sighed out. Daphne turned to the other with a pout on her lips.
"You know, Fred doesn't even take his shirt off for me? I feel like he's hiding something," she said, tugging her top over the sports bra and ignoring the feeling of wet fabric as it laid over her bronze skin.
"He doesn't take it off in gym either," her friend replied. "He has an exemption."
"Rich guys can have anything," another teen piped up. The group settled in the locker room, getting dressed and ready for next class.
"It's not that," Daphne said with a hint of sadness in her tone. "I feel like he's...hiding something." She bit some of the skin off her lip anxiously.
"Hiding something? Like what, Daph?" someone else asked.
Daphne opened her jaw to reply before closing it. "Never mind. It's not important," Daphne said with a quick laugh to cover up the anxiety in her voice, taking a peek at her phone she felt a spark of panic.
"Jeepers, I have to run." She grabbed her jacket and backpack. "See you at lunch, Marcie."
Gathering her dirty clothes up in her arms, she made her way out of the tiny locker room.
Her heels clicked on the tiles as she moved through the empty hallway towards the restroom. She's running late. The bell would ring any second, but her plan to skip gym early was thwarted by the teacher taking his sweet time getting out his chair to unlock the showers. Placing a hand on the door, the teen hesitated before pushing into the restroom. Inside, a few other girls stood around and chatted in Mandarin. Their conversation went silent as Daphne trotted in.
Daphne made sure to greet the oldest one first with a nod of her head before moving down the line. She was the youngest, and it sent a small trickle of anxiety through her veins. She wasn't sure exactly what she'd gotten into, but she couldn't back down now. It was only temporary until she could save the money up to help her grandmother pay off a few hospital bills.
The group talked for a few minutes in Mandarin as Daphne pulled out a small bag with a few pills inside. A dog was etched onto the pure white medicine. The teens swapped it quickly with a messy bundle of tens. Before Daphne had the chance to count it, she was given a swift "see you later," as they shuffled out. Daphne sighed, leaning against the sink as she tried to calm her pounding heart. The bell dinged above.
The door swung open, and the red head shoved the money into her purple jacket. She stared with wide eyes as Velma stepped in, Daphne's hand stuck in the small pocket of her leather jacket. She tried tugging it out a few times awkwardly.
"Daphne?" Velma said with a puzzled look on her face. Daphne let the money go and ripped her hand free, feeling her face burn in embarrassment. This looks bad.
"Velma," she said with a nervous chuckle. Since losing her mother, the pair had stopped being close. Now that Daphne sold drugs, she knew that her old friend would come sniffing around eventually. What was she going to say? She sold drugs now, but it's cool because she still cares about her?
"What…were you doing?" Velma asked, pushing her glasses up on her face. The tension between the pair could be cut with a knife as they stared one another down.
"What do you normally do in the bathroom?" Daphne asked, praising herself for the witty reply. She wasn't usually good at thinking up snarky retorts like Velma.
"Usually I like to take a few shots on the sink, then do a line off the plunger. What do you do?" Velma asked without skipping a beat.
Daphne had to hold back the laugh that jumped in her throat, "W-Well, uh, I was just," she paused, desperately trying to find something to say. Then she was hit with an idea.
"Why does it matter to you, anyway?" she made sure to sound angrier than she was. If she could scare Velma off, she wouldn't end up getting too mixed up in the other's word play.
"Just weird you're standing here and staring at the door like you got caught with your hand in a cookie jar," Velma said, her eyes bouncing to Daphne's pocket and back. A flash of concern crossed the other's face, but Daphne couldn't afford her to keep poking holes.
"Listen," Daphne snarled out, doing her best to act as 'mean girl' as she could. "I don't need to be questioned every time you see me." Velma took a step back, but Daphne moved forward. This continued until Velma's back was against the wall and Daphne towered over her.
"Just leave me alone. I don't want anything to do with you, got it?" she snapped. Velma stared at the red head with her mouth agape. Red crept over Velma's face, but Daphne didn't want to give herself time to think about that.
"G-Got it?" Daphne stuck her nose in the air as she stormed past with her hands bunched into fists stuck to her sides. Feeling Velma's eyes following her out of the restroom. The second she hit the hallway, Daphne let out a breath she wasn't aware she held.
"Hey Daphne," someone called as she sucked air in. Her heart slammed against her rib cage. Maybe she wasn't cut out for this.
Velma stared at the bathroom mirror for a few heartbeats, hand on her chest, as she attempted to put together what just happened. Daphne was never one to get aggressive like that. It caught Velma off guard.
"Fucking Jinkies," Velma breathed out. She picked at the skin of her cuticles absentmindedly as anxiety pricked against her skin. The feelings that stirred in the teen's chest were confusing, frustrating.
"Get yourself together," she said to herself as she shakily pushed away from the wall behind her and towards the sink, she turned it on and let the cold water run until it turned warm. She felt as if she wasn't in her own body as she let the liquid rush over the skin of her palms. Taking her glasses off, she splashed her face a few times with water, glancing up at the mirror, only for her heart to stop.
A mangled face stared back at her, its eyes hollow and sunken in. The hijab around its bony head is the only indicator of whom the body was. She gasped, grappling for her glasses.
Velma, I'm in pain. Please. Velma.
She shoved her glasses back onto her face, causing the hallucination to vanish. She blinked a few times, grabbing her chest to calm her pounding heart. Disembodied voices drawled on in confusing whispers that sounded like tongues to Velma's ears.
She shut off the sink, bolting from the room and stumbling into the student filled hallway. A few people gasped in shock, parting as Velma walked rapidly towards her locker. She spotted Norville waiting for her. He waved as she came up, sucking in air as if she ran a mile.
"Zoinks, you look like you saw a ghost. You cool?" he asked as she grabbed the lock of the large blue locker.
"I had the worst hallucination just now," she groaned, attempting to remember the combo. Her brain felt like it had been covered in pins and needles.
"I thought your medicine prevented that?" Norville asked. Velma didn't want to admit she hadn't taken it last night. She hated the stuff. It made her feel like a zombie walking among men.
"Yeah, well, it doesn't always work," she said under her breath as the locker rattled and opened. Her heart stopped. No, the world stopped.
"Br-Brenda?" she whispered as she stared at the cold, frigid, blue-tinted skin of a cheerleader. The body's mouth ajar in a permanent scream, eyes wide open with no life in them. Norville let out a scream of shock as he saw what was inside the locker. The body swayed as a student shut their locker not far from them before falling forward. Velma scrambled back to avoid being crushed. The room was dead silent. Not a single student spoke as everyone looked in shock at the corpse.
Brenda's head hit the floor, causing the scalp to slip off with a sickening slurch. Whispers started around her as the students started to piece together what they were looking at before a woman screamed. Chaos erupted. Velma didn't move. She couldn't. It was as if she watched herself from above as teenagers leapt over the body to get away from imaginary enemies. Someone's shoes kicked Brenda's head, making the skull jolt. The top of the bone fell to show that Brenda no longer had her brain.
Velma stared down to her lap with her hands balls up in the fabric of her skirt. Did a dead body just fall out of her locker? Was she really here? The surrounding shadows continued to move as the stress of the situation built in her. She could hear whispering in her ears. The voices would change at random. She couldn't understand what they said, not that her hallucinations ever had anything interesting to say, but sometimes she wondered.
The door opened, and she jumped from the sudden click. Two police women walked into the small interrogation room. One of the two held a yellow folder under one arm.
"Hello Velma," one of them said, taking a seat with a smile. The other placed the folder on the table and simply nodded at her, the locs on her head falling in her face.
"Hi Mrs. Blake," Velma said with a nervous smile. The voices had silenced now that the police officers sat before her.
"I haven't seen you come to the house recently," the woman said with a warm, reassuring smile. "School keeping you busy?"
Velma didn't want to admit the real reason. Daphne and her had been close, but recently it was rocky. "Oh, you know. Hard to have friends when you're…trying to get away with murder, huh?" Velma joked.
The officers glance at one another, which makes the anxiety under Velma's skin spike. Why did she make that joke? She had straight A's, yet she made a murder joke to a couple of cops.
"Just kidding," she laughed awkwardly to fill the silence.
"Velma, have you ever watched cop shows?" the other asked, her voice was more demanding.
"Yes," Velma whispered. "Am…I a suspect?"
Both women chuckled at this before opening the folder to show Velma's record. It was littered with information about her mother, with a picture of the woman smiling on the front. The familiar hijab now sent an unwanted shiver through the teen.
"We need to read you your rights. Then, we can talk about that. But you're not a suspect. We just need to get some information from you," the blonde said with a smile.
"Yeah, I don't know what murderer would put a body into their own locker," the other laughed as she started to read her her Miranda rights from a small booklet.
Velma didn't listen. Her mind was stuck on the body in her locker, but the anxiety of being a suspect-melted away like snow. The pair asked her a few questions: where the body was, did anyone have her locker combination, how often she went to her locker. a couple of hours ticked by as she found herself having to answer between the pair. One would ask a question and the other would be slightly more aggressive with the follow-up question.
Finally, they shut the folder with a nod, "Thank you, Velma. We're going to put an officer at your home tonight. We don't think this was a direct threat to you, but we'd rather be safe than sorry."
At the mention of her mother, Velma shuttered. She nodded numbly, feeling uncharacteristically silent.
"Sheriff Stone will be in touch," the other said as they got up to help escort her out. She didn't register the walk from inside the station to the doors. Her father sent her a text, but she didn't even glance at it as the world seemed to spin under her. She stepped into the cold of the early night, it all fell on her at once. As if she was drowning, Velma took a few deep breaths to keep herself from falling apart.
"Are you alright?"
The voice caught her off guard. She glanced up to see a blond. He was short for a teenage boy. His blue eyes burned with curiosity as he spoke. He held a large camera in his hands that seemed almost out of place. She never saw him with one before.
"Fred?" she whispered.
He looked surprised she knew his name. "Do I know you?"
She snorted, "Yeah, you cheat off me in Spanish class. Do you think I'm Hispanic?"
His face turned a shade of scarlet at the realization, "V…Vicky? Vera?"
"Velma,"
"Sorry, I'm not good with names…or Spanish," he said. "Letters get jumbled up for me a lot."
"Are you avoiding my question because I'm right?"
His face turned even redder at this as he shuffled uncomfortably. "Erm, not exactly. I thought maybe, but I wasn't sure," he admitted. The doors to the police station shuddered before opening. Daphne stepped out with a smile.
"Fred, thanks for picking me up," she called to him before eyeing Velma. Her gaze was sympathetic but guarded.
"How'd it go?" she asked Velma, who turned away from Daphne. Eyeing her father's car in the parking lot and started towards it.
"What's it matter to you?" Velma snarled, making sure to walk as a rapid pace. Something didn't sit right with her. Something the police said.
"We don't think this was a direct threat"
What did that mean?
Velma followed her father around the kitchen, texting Norville anxiously as she did so. Her step-mother sat at the table, watching a YouTube video on breastfeeding, as she rolled her hand a few times over her stomach.
"Maybe we can convince those cops something shady is happening at the Malt Shop," her father called to the woman. "And they'll come in and-"
"Scare away all the stoned kids?" Velma finished, which caused her father to stop tossing ketchup on his soggy fries.
"This is why you're the brains," her father said with a chuckle. Velma smiled at the man only to freeze in her tracks as she read the text from her friends.
'Apparently Brenda's camera is missing? I wonder if someone found it. Maybe that'd be a connection' Norville wrote.
"How'd the interview go?" Sophie, her Stepmother, asked as the pair sat down at the table to chat. Velma felt her hands start to shake at the thought of Brenda. It was true, Brenda took pictures of everything. Her parents remained silent as she stared at nothing, trapped in her own world. The colors in the room jumped to green. She felt something crawling up her legs and under her skin. Cockroaches. She could feel them. Everywhere.
"Velma?"
She snapped back into reality, glancing up at the woman talking to her.
"Did you take your medication last night?" Sophie asked.
"Yes, of course I did," Velma snapped, grabbing the can of soda on the counter. She leapt from her chair and started to type to Norville.
'Meet me in ten' she wrote. Something wasn't right. Was this a personal thing? Did Brenda take a picture she wasn't supposed to? The body didn't have the large digital camera the teen always wore around her neck.
"Velma, where are you going?" her father called after her.
"Hanging out with Norie," she shouted over her shoulder.
'Can we get burgers?' he typed out. 'I could use it after today'
'I call shotgun!'
':( Where are my cheeseburgers supposed to sit?'
"Honey, wait," her father called out, getting to his feet and making his way to his daughter. She let out a loud, annoyed sigh. From the sound of his voice she could tell he was worried, and she had to leave soon before the police sat outside her home. She didn't want to answer any more questions than she had to.
"What? I have homework," she said. It came out angrier than she meant it to.
"Look, I know you're still warming up to the baby bu-"
"Dad, please. This isn't about that."
"I know you're a teenager now an-"
"Dad."
"Just listen to me, please?"
She felt her phone buzz again. "I just want to make sure you're alright and that you're taking your medicine. If you're not, the hallucinations are just going to get worse, just like-"
"Jinkies dad," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I know that. I'm the one with the hallucinations, remember? I have to go." She turned on her heels and stomped out. Velma felt her eyes burning, but she refused to cry, not now.
Using the sleeve of her orange sweater to rub the tears that threatened to fall. Norville pulled up with a wave and she returned it. Ripping open the door, she climbed in and buckled up. The pair were on the road quickly. She hurriedly explained her plan to the other, whose smile faded to a look of concern.
"We're…breaking into Fred's house? Why?" he asked with a tilt of his head.
"I can't explain it," she started. "But I think this murderer is the same one who my mother was trying to find."
"The one who…"
"Yeah,"
Silence followed for a few seconds as they drove until Norville reached forward to switch off Shaggy, his favorite rapper, that had been blasting through the speakers.
"So why Fred? The guy looks like he hasn't gone through puberty. I don't think he's a killer," Norville said. "Hell, a large pie from Coolsville Pizza could probably take that guy out."
"I saw him earlier with a camera. It was just like Brenda's," she said, without acknowledging his food joke.
"Alright, why break in? That's, like, a felony. I wouldn't do good in jail, man. We could just ask him for it. He seems nice."
"Yeah, let's do that. 'Hey, Fred, I think you stole Brenda's camera. You know Brenda, right? She was found dead in my locker today'."
Norville stopped for a few seconds before chuckling, "I guess my idea is a little goofy."
"You don't have to come in. Just help me over the fence. I can probably find a window or something," Velma said, clasping her hands together as if she were praying and pushing her lip out to the other.
"Don't do the puppy dog face. That's cheating!" he laughed out with a roll of his eyes. "Fine, but if you get arrested, I'm not paying your bail."
"I'll be fine," she insisted as they pulled up to the large house. She ran over the man's home in her head. He only moved here a year ago, and his family was one of the few she didn't know very well. Would they leave a door open, maybe?
"At least wear your earbuds, so I can talk to you," he said, pulling his own from his pocket and pushing the wireless headphone into his right ear. She nodded in agreement, taking the ones that she had settled around her neck and placing them over her head.
Silently wished she'd grabbed the earbud instead of the earphones, but there wasn't any time for that as the pair stepped from the car. He called her phone, she answered, and the friends made for the fence. He cupped a hand, helping her up and over. Dropping hard to the floor with a grunt.
"Did you fall?"
"No, I slowly sank to the floor." she said into the headphones with a grin. He let out a scoff.
"I'll wait in the car, be a look-out. I don't see cars in the driveway, so hopefully no one's home."
She snuck her way around the outside of the home. It was large with a few doors leading into a kitchen, a living room, and a hallway. She checked each one, but none seemed to work.
"No dice on the doors being unlocked," she whispered, feeling like a spy as she started on the windows. That's when Velma spotted what looked to be a white rabbit. It stood only a few steps away, staring directly at her.
"Are you real?" she whispered, causing Norville to question her, but she didn't hear. The world around the animal swirled and seized as it turned and hopped forward.
"Wait," she called after it, following it around a corner and stopping. It was gone. She was back towards the door that led to a hallway. It was then that she noticed something about it.
She pulled her phone out and shone the light on the wood. A large dog door stood out that she must have missed the first time. Did the rabbit go there? She pushed her hand into the plastic flap and it opened.
"I found a way in," Velma said louder than she meant to before pushing her head into the dog door.
"Hopefully they don't have a dog," she said.
"What? Why?" Norville asked, but she ignored this as she wiggled her chubby frame through the opening but got stuck halfway. She groaned in frustration before glancing up at the lock.
An idea formed. She couldn't reach it, but…?
She pulled her glasses off, using them to reach upward and push the lock into the open position.
"Yes," she ducked out of the door, grabbed the handle, and twisted. It clicked open and she stepped inside. The home was cold. It reminded her of a museum as she looked over the expensive furniture that sat in the hall.
"I'm in," she murmured. She could hear her friend let out a soft cheer.
Walking down the hallway slowly, she felt a wave of dizziness that nearly caused her to topple over. The withdrawal was setting in. Velma shook it off before arching forward, her heart slamming against her chest as she got closer to the door on the opposite end. She just had to find the camera. She couldn't have a panic attack whenever she opened a door.
Breathing in deep through her nose and let it out of her mouth, Velma opened the door. Empty. Inside was an office with books lining the walls, a computer, and a few vases hidden behind glass. She moved her gaze over everything until settling on a camera.
"Yes. Damn, that was easy," she laughed. "Thanks weird rabbit."
"Velma, I worry about you sometimes," Norville laughed.
She reached forward, grabbing the camera and turning it on. Her face fell when the images on the screen came up. They were pictures of what looked to be some type of trap. It reminded her of the game mousetrap.
"Did you find it?" Norville asked, causing her to sigh.
"Yeah, I think I was way too quick to-"
"Velma?"
She turned to Fred with wide eyes, absentmindedly pulling her headphones off and staring at him.
"F-Fred?" Her eyes moved to his shirtless frame, jaw nearly dropping to the floor when she noticed. He had breasts. It seemed to take him a minute to understand what was happening. He turned away from her and covered his chest.
"Fuck," Fred gasped.
"Do you- are you?!" Velma took a few steps back, placing the camera back on the desk.
"Please." He tugged a bra-like garment over his head that compressed his chest down before turning to her, "You can't tell anyone. Please! It's bad enough that everyone thinks I haven't hit puberty yet."
"I-I don't understand? Are you…a woman?"
"No. Well, I was? Well, no, I wasn't. Oh boy."
She could hear Norville shouting something but ignored it.
"Just, you can't tell anyone. Alright? I had to move schools to change gender without being bullied." He looked at her desperately. The panic on his face was enough to make her stop. She looked at him hard. His small frame, his boyish face, the small penis jokes she heard people make about him.
"You're transgender," she said this in such a matter-of-fact way it almost made her angry.
"Yeah, I uh, I haven't…please just don't tell anyone." He put a hand out to her. "Please,"
She looked down at his hand, then to the camera, "I won't tell anyone if you tell me about this camera." She wouldn't have told anyone anyway, but she needed information.
"Is that why you broke into my parents' house?" he asked with a tilt of his head.
"Yes," she let out a sigh, taking his hand and shaking it. "I won't tell anyone, but where did you get this?"
"I bought it," he said with a shrug. "I saw Brenda's and really liked it. So I got one for myself."
"What's with the…traps?" she asked with a puzzled look on her face.
"I…like to make elaborate traps and post them on TikTok and the camera gets some high quality video. You can look me up. I'm MysteryMachine on TikTok and YouTube."
She eyed him for a few minutes, giving a soft sigh. The doorbell chimed loudly, causing the pair to turn attention to the sound.
"Who's that?" Fred asked.
She shook her head, checking her phone, she noticed that Norville had hung up on her.
"I'm going to guess, my friend."
"So you weren't alone in breaking into my house?"
"I tried to do it myself, but I was convinced you murdered someone, so I needed backup."
"You thought I murdered someone?"
The doorbell rang again, followed by a loud banging.
"Police!" someone shouted.
"They'll see my binder!" Fred said with a panic. Velma rolled her eyes and pulled off her sweater. She tossed it at Fred before adjusting the white tank over her frame. He looked at it with an elaborate tilt of his head.
"Just put it on. You won't look as sexy as me in it, but you can try," Velma said with a playful wink. Fred tugged it on with a smile as he guided her towards the front door.
"This is huge. No wonder it looks so big on you," he commented
"It was my mom's. She was bigger and taller than me," Velma admitted as Fred grabbed the door and pulled it open. A police officer stood outside with Norville in hand.
"Sir, this punk says he's your friend and that's why he was lurking in the bushes," the man said, shaking Norville harshly, which caused the teen to gasp in pain. Velma stared in panic for a few seconds, unable to find the words she needed.
"Hi, Officer Jenkins. Yeah, he's my friend. Uh." Fred glanced at the shirt the other was wearing, a rapper on the front with his name written in bold lettering, before turning attention back to the officer.
"Shaggy."
Officer Jenkins made an annoyed face before letting him go. "I have my eye on you," Jenkins snarled as Norville scrambled into the house to stand behind Velma.
"Thanks, Officer," Fred snarled before shutting the door.
"Zoinks," Norville gasped. "I thought I was going to die for a second. If I didn't die of starvation."
"I can order us a pizza if you wanna, fill me in on what's going on?" Fred said as he turned to the pair with his arms crossed. Norville eyed the other's sweater and grinned.
"Only if you tell me what's going on." Norville said.
Velma made her way up the driveway of her parent's home. She had to explain everything to Fred, who offered to help.
"I have some money, and a love for mysteries. I can help! Plus, my family is pretty close with the police." He rubbed his neck awkwardly in a way that made Velma wonder if he was hiding something else.
She shook her head as if to scatter the thought. Norville followed after her with hands in his pockets. He kicked a rock that flew forward and rattled the trashcan in front of her home. A few cockroaches raced away from the bin.
"What now?" Norville asked as they stopped just outside the door. She turned to look at her friend with a sigh, putting a hand on her hip.
"Not sure, go to sleep? Today was a nightmare."
Norville nodded, grabbing the top of the trashcan and spitting his gum into it, only to recoil and gag.
"What?"
His eyes the size of moons as he stared in horror at the blue recycle bin.
"Norie?" she asked. Grabbing the lid, she shakily pulled it up and looked inside, nearly vomiting from the sight of a body. The skull had been surgically opened to show an empty cranium.
A redesign for these characters will be posted on my twitter, give me a follow to stay posted.Twitter: /KingSpadilleArt Follow the gangs spotify accounts: Velma Amena Dinkley- playlist/0VrNOjUReQ82QxRE72zIPy?si=7ef31af5faa84f8a Fred Goldberg Jones- playlist/2Vcd6N6npLnXjxbXPJIgfl?si=dddf291ce531415f Norville "Shaggy" Rogers- playlist/069NP43xgWdD6DZRC1Cvrh?si=8bd2ce95047c441c Daphne Zhi Blake- playlist/4UHZen27WfTpp90sr0t3m8?si=58cf68c86dd04b2b