Time: 1152. Location: Mulberry, KS.
All the windows are smashed, their grates pealed away like scabs off a wound. Hands grab at the occupants of the van. The screams of Velma and Shaggy mix with the howls of Scooby. She is helpless as grey appendages pin her to the seat. She is forced to sit helplessly and watch as hooked claws tear into the skin of Shaggy's arms. Blood pours forth as muscle is cut. Bones are exposed only to be snapped like twigs. She hears the grunts and growls from the back. In the rearview she sees Scooby attempting to avoid the things trying to snatch him from the van. He bites and snaps. His jaws close on a hand. He shakes at it pulling it free of the arm it was attached to. More of the red hot crimson liquid pools in the van. Soaking the mattress and rising. Ever rising. She watches in horror as Scooby's teeth fall out one by one. His big paws scrape at his muzzle. Skin and fur pulled from his jaws. She screams as the big dog, her companion and protector rots into a puddle of black ooze. Shaggy is gone. His seat was stained with the same thick black ooze. And just like that the hands are gone. The windows are back as are the grates.
She tries to undo her seatbelt and is unable as the van continues to fill with viscous fluid. The bubbling black threatening to drown her. The van shakes. She looks in the side view mirrors. Nothing.
The relentless pounding…
The rising liquid…
The increasing slamming on the van…
She strains her neck trying to keep above the blood. It covers her eyes as she cranes to keep it from her mouth. She has no luck. If fills her. Pouring down her throat. Choking her. She gags. She feels it entering her lungs. She knows when whatever it is that makes her unique is ready to leave her dying form. She says no prayers.
"Velma?" She's back. Sitting in the back of the van with Shaggy and Scooby. Both look at her with concern plain on their faces. "You, okay?"
"No… Yeah… I don't know…" She looks around. It's the same as it's always been. Supplies are stacked and labeled. The smoke from Shaggy's last joint still fills the air. The box of empty Scooby Snacks at his side. "What… What were we talking about?"
Shaggy cocks his head, his bloodshot eyes trying to focus on his longtime friend, "You were gonna tell me your plan. You sure you're okay?"
Velma shakes her head, "Yeah, must have been a contact high or something."
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For the first time in millennia, the Great Old One moves. Just the barest twitching of muscles. Some would think it involuntary but they would be wrong. There is nothing involuntary where it concerns those who shall not be known.
Outside the crypt, the disciples recite incantation after incantation. Paying tribute to the Vaeyen with the blood of a firstborn and its mother. Tied from five points; arms, legs, and head their blood drips onto the five Vulturine effigies which house those who imprison and protect the one within the crypt. The believers hope that the offering is enough to charge those who watch over their god with the power to enforce its sleep.
The invocation of their leader rises above that of his flock. His cassock blows in a wind that does not exist. His eyes glowing a power that is not his own. He raises his hands in supplication hoping to appease his god to be saved from its judgement. His words find their way through the Earth. Rising into the night sky looking for one who would challenge, who would defy, who would blaspheme his master.
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It's all happening again. Velma finds herself driving the Mystery Machine down the empty street. She tells herself she won't stop in front of the Post Office. Yet she does. They step out. Just as they already have. She says what she told herself she would not say. The words coming from her mouth despite her efforts. The reply comes as before. As does hers. She yells out, "We're not leaving. We've come to help the woman from this morning. She asked us to help her. We're here to do just that."
"YOU CAN'T HELP ANYONE." A different voice booms down the street.
"Got it." The words barely above a whisper.
"Yeah?" Velma responds in kind.
"Yeah. Pharmacy. Two buildings down. First floor."
"You're sure?"
"You know it."
"Okay, Shag." Velma straightens up and raises her voice, "We're not leaving without the woman who asked for help. You want us to leave you'll have to make us." Only this time the horde of people does not emerge. They continue waiting. Nothing.
"I don't see anything, Velm."
"Neither do I. What's weirder is I don't hear anything either." She turns towards Shaggy to say something but the words never leave her mouth. Before her, hangs the bodies of a skinned man and a dog. She screams.
"HA HA HA!" The laugh is not one of joy. It echoes out of nowhere and everywhere. Velma turns in circles. The bodies, the van, the town, all gone. Only darkness remains. The laughing continues growing louder. She covers her ears and immediately pulls her hands away, she looks at them. Blood covered. The sticky flow goes up her arms. She screams. She falls to her knees unable to stand. Then, it stops. The darkness is replaced by a sickly green glow. She raises her head. Before her is a being of pure evil, and disgust. A glowing green eye surrounded by a body of tentacles made up of living darkness. "You will be mine." From where the words come she does not know. The language is not English yet she somehow understands them. Terror tugs at her soul.
"Velma." Again. She looks around the back of the van incredulously. "This can't be happening. It can't be." She grabs Shaggy by the collar of his shirt, "This is bad, Shaggy. Really bad."
He looks at her, disbelief on his face. "O-o-okay, V. You're freaking' me out."
"You should be freaked out, Shaggy."
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The chanting in the cavern ceases. The blood has long stopped flowing. The power collected. Fed to those who would be so brazen as to hold back the power of a Great Old One. The leader rises to his feet. His flock follows suit. Without a word, they exit the cave. The afternoon sun glares from on high. The deep hoods of the flocks' garments protect their faces. Barefoot, they weave their way out of the thick verdure of the forest back to the glass-riddled streets below. One by one they enter darkened doors and alleys. At the last building, the former church, the leader stops. He speaks to no one and to everyone, "They come. Be prepared."
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The van approaches the town. Making its way towards Main Street. Shaggy sits behind the wheel. "It's quiet."
"Sure is, Shag."
He stops the van at the end of the street, in front of the church. After Velma explained everything they both had agreed that it be best for Shaggy to drive and decide when and where to stop. "Are you sure you're up for this Velm? Th-th-there's nothing wrong with turning around."
"I know, Shaggy. But we have to do this. Whoever or whatever is controlling this town, it needs to be stopped."
"Okay. Then let's go." They step out of the van, Scooby following close behind Shaggy. They go around to the front of the Mystery Machine. Velma turns to Shaggy. She nods. He cups his hands around his mouth and shouts, "Hello! We're here to help."
Rather than silence the doors to the church open. A man steps out wearing the vestments of the cloth. The smile on his face was more predatory than welcoming, "There is no need to shout, young man." Behind him crowd a collection of men and women in their finest Sunday attire. "Now, who are you here to help exactly?"
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