The Darkest Hour
The Darkest Hour
Note: I do not own Scooby Doo. I do not make a profit from writing this story.
Authors Note: PLEASE PROCEED WITH EXTREME CAUTION. READ THE WARNINGS AND TAKE HEED, THIS IS A DARK DARK DARK STORY, WELL AT LEAST THIS PART IS.
Warnings: Character Death, Murder, Gun Violence, Language, Implications of Non-Consensual actions between people.
Fandom: Scooby Doo (Mystery Incorporated)
Prompts: postage stamp hurt/comfort challenge (Scars (wild card), fear of heights, sexual extortion: to keep a secret (adult), bullet wounds)
Genre: Angst/Drama/Horror/(Slight)HurtComfort
Rating: R (Character Death, Murder, Gun Violence, Language, Implications of Non-Consensual actions between people. I’m stating it again so you make sure to read it if you missed it.)
Summary: Even in the darkest hour, you may not be alone...
Lucy Nichols was a woman with much to hide. She hated it too. At the age of 30, she at least thought she’d be married with kids by now. She idly rubbed a scar on her wrist, it was fresh and it bothered her. It was still lumpy and purple; the knife that had gone through her wrist did so much damage she was surprised that mark was all that was left. Letting her useless hand fall to her side she stared at her screen, she was supposed to be doing two things. Monitoring the area and doing her work.
The coast was still clear and she continued to reroute money from one account in her business to another. She hated doing it but unfortunately she let herself get into this mess. Three years ago she had begun to piece together that someone was diverting money to a fake account. She continued to track it and then, at the time, needed money and decided to steal some of it. Why not, they were stealing it first, that logic settled with her. She was doing just fine, skimming a little off the top when she caught them taking it.
Too bad she got busted. She shivered when she felt two hands grab her from behind and force her into a dark room. They demanded to know how she caught them and that she now work for them and do everything they wanted or they would pin it all on her. Knowing she couldn’t get out of it, she submitted and began to work for them. Each day she became someone’s girl, they would use her as they please then would let her go, promising of turning her over if she tried to tell anyone or turn them in.
So right now, she hated her life, deeply. She glanced at the monitors to see 4 shadows and then what appeared to be a dog’s shadow creeping around outside. Her heart stopped. She knew of the teen sleuthing group Mystery Incorporated that lurked around this part of town. Then she realized that they were probably searing for the “Creeping Phantom” as the press liked to call him. It was the boss that had caught her, he used his disguise for things she didn’t want to think about. But that’s probably what brought the kids here.
“Shit,” she cursed, and looked again. “Oh for the love of Pete!” she muttered, they had split up into groups, one boy and the dog and one boy and one girl and another girl was on her own. Her heart stopped in her chest in fear for the one girl. She watched the girl climb to the roof. She cursed again, especially because she hated being up there. Fear of heights and all that, it’s why she was happy to be in an office with no windows. Being even one story up bothered her, but she had to push that aside for the safety of that girl.
The men that were ghosting here meant business and if they shot her, they would do horrific things to the girl. She could live with her sins but not the death, or worse given the company she worked for, of a teenager. With shaking legs she clung to the railing with her good arm and hauled ass up the stairs. She stopped at the roof door and heard foot steps coming. Swearing she pulled open the door and saw the tiny teen attempting to do God knows what but she was there and she needed to get away.
“Hey! You! Run! Get out of here!” she shouted and the girl jumped and pointed her flashlight directly into the older woman’s eyes. “Fuck! Get that out of my eyes!” The light was lowered and Lucy grabbed the girl by the shoulders. “You have to leave, now! They’ll find you!”
“The Phantom isn’t real,” she said blankly, and blinked at the woman, “so if you think a ghost story is going to scare me-“
“Of course not! But mankind is worst than any ghost. Especially these men! Remember those bodies of those teenaged girls that showed up? Tortured and cut up? Those people are the phantom’s lackies. Get out of here now, please, hurry back to your group and run,” The girl paled and when they heard the door banged open Lucy knew it was too late for either of them.
“Well, well, well, Lucy you got me a present and its not even my birthday,” the man’s voice drifted to them and hit Lucy like a slap. She looked in the girl’s eyes and did the one thing she could do.
“I’m so sorry,” she told her and stood in front of her.
“Hmm, what to do, what to do? Out with the old, in with the new I think is best,” he said and a shot ran out. Lucy felt pain in her chest and fell to her knees. The girl screamed and caught her as best she could. She was lowering her to the ground when she heard the man approach. She heard the girl cry out but she couldn’t see, she could only look up at the sky.
She closed her eyes and let tears fall as she heard cries from the girl and noises she never wanted to hear. The smell of blood intensified around her and then, she heard the man walking away. She opened her eyes and forced herself to roll over. She glanced to the girl whose orange sweater was slashed to ribbons and now crimson. She was soaked in her own blood and had begun to curl into the fetal position with her sobs.
“What’s your name?” Lucy asked, she was weak and knew the girl probably didn’t stand a chance either. But she would try her best to try to make their final moments better.
“Velma Dinkley,” came out, soft and broken.
“I’m Lucy Nichols. And I’m so sorry,” she told her, which made the girl cry harder, she heard her wheezing for air.
“I know. I am too,” Velma’s voice was weakening and Lucy struggled to move closer to the girl. She felt the girl curl into her as she would if she was being comforted by her mother. Lucy let out a soft sob and as they lay there, they were both thankful for one thing.
They were not alone.
-------------------------
To Be Continued
This is the prologue to a revamp of a story I wrote long ago called “The Darkest Hours”. Granted I only changed one word but still, it was my story and I will not have people accusing me of plagiarism. It’s the one story I wrote 8 years ago that I will still willingly claim.
The story will not remain this dark, but it won’t be that happy either. Just a fair warning now.
Note: I do not own Scooby Doo. I do not make a profit from writing this story.
Authors Note: PLEASE PROCEED WITH EXTREME CAUTION. READ THE WARNINGS AND TAKE HEED, THIS IS A DARK DARK DARK STORY, WELL AT LEAST THIS PART IS.
Warnings: Character Death, Murder, Gun Violence, Language, Implications of Non-Consensual actions between people.
Fandom: Scooby Doo (Mystery Incorporated)
Prompts: postage stamp hurt/comfort challenge (Scars (wild card), fear of heights, sexual extortion: to keep a secret (adult), bullet wounds)
Genre: Angst/Drama/Horror/(Slight)HurtComfort
Rating: R (Character Death, Murder, Gun Violence, Language, Implications of Non-Consensual actions between people. I’m stating it again so you make sure to read it if you missed it.)
Summary: Even in the darkest hour, you may not be alone...
Lucy Nichols was a woman with much to hide. She hated it too. At the age of 30, she at least thought she’d be married with kids by now. She idly rubbed a scar on her wrist, it was fresh and it bothered her. It was still lumpy and purple; the knife that had gone through her wrist did so much damage she was surprised that mark was all that was left. Letting her useless hand fall to her side she stared at her screen, she was supposed to be doing two things. Monitoring the area and doing her work.
The coast was still clear and she continued to reroute money from one account in her business to another. She hated doing it but unfortunately she let herself get into this mess. Three years ago she had begun to piece together that someone was diverting money to a fake account. She continued to track it and then, at the time, needed money and decided to steal some of it. Why not, they were stealing it first, that logic settled with her. She was doing just fine, skimming a little off the top when she caught them taking it.
Too bad she got busted. She shivered when she felt two hands grab her from behind and force her into a dark room. They demanded to know how she caught them and that she now work for them and do everything they wanted or they would pin it all on her. Knowing she couldn’t get out of it, she submitted and began to work for them. Each day she became someone’s girl, they would use her as they please then would let her go, promising of turning her over if she tried to tell anyone or turn them in.
So right now, she hated her life, deeply. She glanced at the monitors to see 4 shadows and then what appeared to be a dog’s shadow creeping around outside. Her heart stopped. She knew of the teen sleuthing group Mystery Incorporated that lurked around this part of town. Then she realized that they were probably searing for the “Creeping Phantom” as the press liked to call him. It was the boss that had caught her, he used his disguise for things she didn’t want to think about. But that’s probably what brought the kids here.
“Shit,” she cursed, and looked again. “Oh for the love of Pete!” she muttered, they had split up into groups, one boy and the dog and one boy and one girl and another girl was on her own. Her heart stopped in her chest in fear for the one girl. She watched the girl climb to the roof. She cursed again, especially because she hated being up there. Fear of heights and all that, it’s why she was happy to be in an office with no windows. Being even one story up bothered her, but she had to push that aside for the safety of that girl.
The men that were ghosting here meant business and if they shot her, they would do horrific things to the girl. She could live with her sins but not the death, or worse given the company she worked for, of a teenager. With shaking legs she clung to the railing with her good arm and hauled ass up the stairs. She stopped at the roof door and heard foot steps coming. Swearing she pulled open the door and saw the tiny teen attempting to do God knows what but she was there and she needed to get away.
“Hey! You! Run! Get out of here!” she shouted and the girl jumped and pointed her flashlight directly into the older woman’s eyes. “Fuck! Get that out of my eyes!” The light was lowered and Lucy grabbed the girl by the shoulders. “You have to leave, now! They’ll find you!”
“The Phantom isn’t real,” she said blankly, and blinked at the woman, “so if you think a ghost story is going to scare me-“
“Of course not! But mankind is worst than any ghost. Especially these men! Remember those bodies of those teenaged girls that showed up? Tortured and cut up? Those people are the phantom’s lackies. Get out of here now, please, hurry back to your group and run,” The girl paled and when they heard the door banged open Lucy knew it was too late for either of them.
“Well, well, well, Lucy you got me a present and its not even my birthday,” the man’s voice drifted to them and hit Lucy like a slap. She looked in the girl’s eyes and did the one thing she could do.
“I’m so sorry,” she told her and stood in front of her.
“Hmm, what to do, what to do? Out with the old, in with the new I think is best,” he said and a shot ran out. Lucy felt pain in her chest and fell to her knees. The girl screamed and caught her as best she could. She was lowering her to the ground when she heard the man approach. She heard the girl cry out but she couldn’t see, she could only look up at the sky.
She closed her eyes and let tears fall as she heard cries from the girl and noises she never wanted to hear. The smell of blood intensified around her and then, she heard the man walking away. She opened her eyes and forced herself to roll over. She glanced to the girl whose orange sweater was slashed to ribbons and now crimson. She was soaked in her own blood and had begun to curl into the fetal position with her sobs.
“What’s your name?” Lucy asked, she was weak and knew the girl probably didn’t stand a chance either. But she would try her best to try to make their final moments better.
“Velma Dinkley,” came out, soft and broken.
“I’m Lucy Nichols. And I’m so sorry,” she told her, which made the girl cry harder, she heard her wheezing for air.
“I know. I am too,” Velma’s voice was weakening and Lucy struggled to move closer to the girl. She felt the girl curl into her as she would if she was being comforted by her mother. Lucy let out a soft sob and as they lay there, they were both thankful for one thing.
They were not alone.
-------------------------
To Be Continued
This is the prologue to a revamp of a story I wrote long ago called “The Darkest Hours”. Granted I only changed one word but still, it was my story and I will not have people accusing me of plagiarism. It’s the one story I wrote 8 years ago that I will still willingly claim.
The story will not remain this dark, but it won’t be that happy either. Just a fair warning now.