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dangerprone2000 · 1 year ago

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Reposting it cause I posted it way too early 😭💗

Hey Guys! Here’s Chapter three of my new fic! Hope you enjoy it. 💗

Chapter three.

Bleach. A small amount discreetly strained into a test tube in the chemistry laboratory. It was easy to find, just look in any cleaning cabinet and mix the vial with a little alcohol to create chloroform, a quick solution to the need to evacuate the laboratory in less than five minutes. But not before slipping a pair of lab coats into his backpack during the chaos. Nothing too dangerous, Fred reminded himself, it only took a couple of minutes for the chemistry teacher to identify the sweet smell coming from one of the test tubes, hopefully they´ll think it was an error in the labels.

And the job of the janitor was a small price to pay.

The idea had come to him the night before while watching a science program on television, although it was not his favorite topic, he had to take a dive if he wanted to solve this mystery. Now all that was left was to wait.

They had planned it all that morning. Fred picked up Daphne a little earlier that day and had explained to her the plan he had put together in his wonderful head.

When leaving school, they would wait in the van for the transportation of new bodies, and during the shift change of the forensic examinators, they would go in to steal the report. They leaving without being seen was entirely another story.

The bell rang, sending all the students in different directions.

Daphne hurried to get up, while Fred quickly picked up the backpacks from the floor, walking towards the exit, in a desperate attempt to get to the truck as soon as possible, avoiding Velma, Shaggy or Scooby in the process.

“Wait Fred!” Velma yelled at them, making her way through the group of students. “Where are you going? “I’ve been trying to talk to you guys the whole day.”

“Um, uh, we- we are just…”

“Studying for our SATs” Daphne cut out.

“Without me?” Velma stared at them blankly, taking a moment to readjust her glasses. “Someone reached out to me, leaving a message on my blog. There’s a mystery for us to solve, and they are giving a reward of one thousand dollars.”

Fred dismissed her, shaking his head. “I really do need to study for my exams, otherwise, the wrestling team is kicking me out.”

“C´mon Fred! It’s one thousand dollars!” She insisted, looking at them in disbelief, “they will give us all the details once we accept to solve it. This is a one in a lifetime opportunity for us to people start taking this as a serious business.”

Fred and Daphne exchanged weird looks.

“I'm sorry Velma.”

She frowned. Since Daphne got sick and recovered magically, they both became odd and awkward, sneaking out of their classes and avoiding them during lunch.

And then, Fred rejected her mystery…

“Okay,” Velma said, wiping the determination from her face. “I guess Shaggy and I can also make use of the time to review some things.”

Velma Dinkley, who was an expert at putting puzzle pieces together, she, who was an expert in mystery and an intellectual of clues, had set out to discover what was happening between Daphne and Fred.

There was something fishy going on and she was determined to uncover it.

“C´mon Shaggy. Cardio is good for you anyway.”

She gave them a darting look, and then left.

Fred took a deep breath, feeling a spark of hope that they may get out of this trouble undefeated.

***

The wait was tense and tedious, charging the air with nervousness.

They had waited for the transport van for hours when the doctor on duty finally came out.

The transfer truck must have been approaching and they had a short window of time to conduct the robbery before the new doctor arrived.

Fred turned the knob on the service door, attempting to enter the facility.

“It's closed,” he said. “We can try to enter through the hospital.”

She gave him a head shake “Staff will ask you for a credential.”

“Well- I… I think we should have planned this better. Maybe we can pick the lock.”

Daphne spoke with her chin up “I think I know how to do that” she loved to feel useful more than she loved feeling pretty.

Daphne was intelligent, artistic, gracile, she knew how to paint and play the piano, she loved musical theater and photography... but those were hobbies that she was never able to practice, since to be honest, in the search for mysteries, they were not very useful. At least she was still danger prone. And being a magnet for problems had led them to live their best adventures...

“We can use a couple hair pins to open it.” She said, removing a couple off her hair “It looks like a simple lock.”

Daphne unfolded one pin, inserting it into the base of the lock, and turned it, maintaining tension while she engaged a second pin as a lockpick.

“One click and Voila,” she said, pushing the door open in front of them.

The morgue was almost empty, except for the a few bodies. It was very cold, and some lights were flickering, giving the place a gloomy, eerie air.

Crystal Cove was a quiet town, with very few deaths, most of them from natural causes, however it did not make the place more comforting. Finding herself so close to death gave Daphne goosebumps.

“We must avoid Joey, the medical examiner on duty” Fred muttered, grabbing Daphne´s Hand. “You know, I don't think he's used to seeing living people walking around.”

But the jokes did not seem funny enough to laugh in a place like that.

“Jesus Chris, Fred. I can’t believe we are entering this place like amateur burglars”

Nothing was random. Except of course, having to pick the lock. One more crime added to the list wouldn’t make a difference...

The cold penetrated her bones, making her shiver as they walked along the hallway, where a small room was set up: a table, a couple of chairs, and a small filing cabinet. A type of refrigerator with metal cubicles arranged for each body was on the opposite side, next to an examination table surrounded by a curtain of transparent plastic material placed over a drain.

“I overheard my father once talking about Joey and his bad habit of falling asleep at work” “You have no idea about the conversations I have heard from my room…”

Daphne walked over to the rickety old wooden filing cabinet, hurriedly searching for the folder with Amanda's last name.

Blue paint peeled off at the edges, rust corroding the metal handles.

Bailey…Barker…Barnes…Beck.

Bingo.

She grabbed the folder, giving it a Quick Look when they heard steps from behind.

Daphne was suddenly frozen, glued to her place, listening to the tick and tack in slow motion.

“Quick” Fred hissed, snapping awake almost instantly, tossing a shaking Daphne onto his back and into the closest door he found, sending the yellow folder to fly across the room.

It was a small cleaning closet full of bottles with transparent and dark liquids, terribly stinky towels, a couple of boxes with gloves and other utensils as sharp as unknown.

“Shit. What do we do now?” He shook Daphnes shoulders gently.

“I lost the folder” her response was slow, like honey running through a dropper. “It flew out of my hand. I lost the folder. I lost it.”

Fred grabbed her hands, squeezing them softly, somehow, hyper aware of her hand in his, and the way their knees touched. “Did you manage to read anything?”

She shook her head.

“It is handwritten. And in bad calligraphy. The worst calligraphy I’ve ever read “

“Daphne…” Fred begins, and that's when they hear the gunshot echo through the place.

What happened next was catastrophic.

Fred jumped, crashing the glass on the shelves, spilling all the liquids on himself and on Daphne, who couldn't stop shaking.

The sound of another gunshot drowned out her screams, filling Fred’s body with both dread and adrenaline.

What should he do next? Should he play the hero and stand up for whatever was happening outside the closet, or stay right where he was, protecting his best friend with it?

Another shot, followed by another ask for help.

“I’m sorry Daph, I can´t just stay here and ignore what’s happening.”

“Freddie, please” She begged, tugging her fists on his shirt “there's nothing we can do against a gun.”

He felt like a coward.

They stood in silence just holding each other for what looked like an eternity, their eyes watering for the strong, sharp odor permeating their clothes, making it difficult to breathe.

“We must get out of here. Now. Before we start choking on formalin”

“This doesn't smell like formalin” she said, robotically “if it were, our skin would be burning right now. “It’s Maybe some kind of antiseptic.”

“Whatever it is we have to go before the police arrive.”

Fred's phone chimed in his pocket.

“Daph” it was a message from his father. “Whoever did this also got Charlie Cooper killed.”

Fred's hands encircled her, guiding her out of the janitor’s closet.

Her chalk-white face was drained of all emotion. “The other medical examiner, right?”

Fred agreed.

“He was found dead in his car, with a ton of cash with him.” “It looks like he was desperate to leave Crystal cove”

Outside, Joey was crumpled to the ground, with three bullet holes in his chest.

“Gunshots. That’s not very witchy, is it?” Fred said, grabbing the yellow folder from its place, under a metal cubicle.

The blood was smeared all over the walls, spurting from Joey's chest, soaking his shirt, deep red splatters coming from his lips.

“We shouldn't leave him like this” Daphne said, her breath sharp and fast. She closed her eyes, wanting to rip the acrid dress off her skin.

Maybe if she closed them long enough, she would find herself wrapped in the blankets in her room, waking up from that horrible nightmare.

Fred looked down, unable to meet her eyes. He felt guilty of all this slaughter, wanting to close Joey´s eyes with one hand, but his face was so full of blood it would leave fingerprints. They would be difficult to check, but still… Instead, he covered him with a gray tarp that he had seen in the Janitor´s closet. He knew well that disturbing another crime scene would only make his situation worse, but he couldn't just walk away and let his body go cold with that horrible expression of fear burning in his brain.

Even if they found his fingerprints on the tarp, they would have enough time to uncover the mystery… as long as it took to find a new medical examiner.

And there was something else, a feeling of camaraderie and complicity growing between them, in the privacy of the Van, Fred took her hand again.

That last hug lasted a little longer than it should have.

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