Chapter Text
“Jinkies Daphne, the exhibit is amazing,” Velma looked at all the different artifacts on display. Daphne’s family had funded the exhibit, showcasing various relics from medieval Europe. While Daphne herself wasn’t very interested, she knew her friends would be. While Velma was the most excited, Freddy was definitely captivated by the weaponry and armor display. Shaggy, however was eyeing everything suspiciously.
“Not enjoying yourself?” The curator, a Dr Leslie O’Neil, asked the lanky teen.
“Like, just wondering how many of these are cursed.” He shuddered.
“And what makes you think anything here is cursed?” Dr. O’Neil inquired with a wry grin.
“There’s, like, always something that cursed or haunted, and then a ghost appears, and we have to catch it. Just for once I’d like to skip it.”
The Doctor laughed. “Well you’ll be pleased to know not one of the items on display is cursed or haunted.”
Shaggy perked up. “Really?”
“Quite. The only cursed item is kept in the research room in the back.”
“Like, I knew it was too good to be true,” Shaggy moaned. Scooby whimpered beside him.
“Jeepers, Uncle Floyd never mentioned anything about a curse!” Daphne exclaimed, excited. “What kind is it?”
“It’s a simple mirror with a pewter backing. It’s called the LifeStealer. No one knows what it’s supposed to do, but various people in the museum have reported seeing someone else’s reflection in place of their own. A strange man in crimson robes wearing a mask.”
“Zoinks!” Shaggy exclaimed, shaking. Scooby had leapt into his arms and was whimpering slightly.
But Dr. O’Neil only laughed. “I’ve looked in that mirror several times and never saw anything more frightening than my own reflection. Floyd Blake vouched for you all, I’d be happy to let you see it.”
“Really? Daphne asked excitedly. “A real cursed mirror?”
“There’s no such thing as curses,” Velma pointed out evenly. “There’s probably an image behind a semi translucent setting that can only be viewed at a certain angle.”
“I definitely want to see it,” Fred finally took his eyes off the swords.
“Then step right this way,” Dr. O’Neil gestured toward an employee-only door. Beyond it was a brief hallway leading to a sterile lab. On each table was equipment meant for cleaning and restoring various items and paintings. They were lead to one such table which held a very simple mirror. “Like Velma, we assume it’s a trick having to do with perspective. We’ve been trying to crack it, but no luck so far.”
Daphne leaned in close. “I don’t see anything but myself,” She patted her hair down. “Though I do look fabulous,”
“Let me see,” Fred peered into the mirror. “Still nothing,”
“Of course not. You two viewed it at the same angle,” Velma responded, “May I?”
The doctor gestured to some protective gloves. Velma put them on and picked up the mirror, angling it from side to side. “No change. Maybe it has something to do with the ambient lighting? What do you think Shaggy?”
“Like, I think that it’s probably cursed and we should keep away from it!” He wanted nothing to do with the mirror. This was how cases started and relaxing vacations became far less relaxing.
Velma rolled her eyes. “It’s just a mirror, Shag, see?” She held it up to him.
Shaggy blinked, “Like didn’t those people say they saw a red cloaked guy in a mask?”
“That’s correct,” Dr. O’Neil confirmed.
“Cause, like, I’m seeing a blond guy. And he seems pretty terrifi-” Shaggy suddenly rocked back, falling into a heap on the ground.
“Shaggy!” They ran to his side, Velma carefully placing the mirror down first. His eyes fluttered open. It took a moment for them to sharpen into clarity as he gaze at each of them one by one.
“Who the hell are you people?” he asked in a tone they’d never heard Shaggy use before.
~
To say Arthur Kingsmen disliked caves would be a grand understatement. He loathed them with every fiber of his being. Most of that had to do with a certain incident with a certain green mist. But things like this didn’t help either.
The chair was new, at least. It was way more comfortable than the usual stone slab, though any comfort derived from that was negated by the neck brace keeping his head from moving.
He’d missed what particular entity this group worshiped. They had all the familiar trappings, scarlet robes, creepy masks, Latin chanting, and of course the unending need to kidnap Arthur to placate some unholy entity.
He was beginning to wonder if he was getting jaded.
Well, normally he’d be a lot more nervous by now, but he’d heard the familiar sounds of Vivi’s rage and Lewis’s deadbeats. Right now the cultists were getting the hurt put on them and he’d be free soon enough.
He then heard the door to the cavern he was in creak open. “Hurry, we don’t have much time!”
Fear began to creep back in. That wasn’t his friends, which meant the cultists were trying to finish whatever they’d started.
“Hold his eyes open.” The leader instructed. “And keep your own shut,”
Arthur gulped and tried to struggle, but the chair prevented any struggling. With one of the mooks behind him holding his eyes open, he couldn’t help but see the head cultist pull out a small box. From it he drew a mirror.
“By the power of the Life-Stealer you shall be sacrificed to our Lord, Farzlrez Ken. And by it he shall raze the world to the ground.” The cultist shoved the mirror in Arthur’s face.
He had expected to see some hideous demon or other entity. Instead he saw what looked like a long faced teen with light brown hair. As he accidentally locked eyes with the boy he felt a feeling he was familiar with. He didn’t even have time to scream as he was ripped from his body and pulled into the mirror.
Arthur wasn’t sure what he was expecting from there. Perhaps oblivion or endless torment. Instead he regained consciousness in a brightly lit room with a group of people who were talking about something shaggy.
As he opened his eyes, he examined the people surrounding him. He didn’t recognize them, but that didn’t mean anything. The cultists had all worn body concealing robe and masks. And if he had been rescued somehow, Lewis and Vivi would have been right there with him.
“Who the hell are you people?” he asked suspiciously, trying to keep an eye on all of them at once.
The blond guy’s jaw dropped (seriously, there still were people bedsides Lewis who wore ascots?). The redhead jumped back like she’d been hit and the girl with glasses narrowed her eyes.
“I take it that’s not normal?” asked a woman in a lab coat.
“Definitely not,” said glasses-girl in a sour voice.
“Yeah, Shag. That’s not funny,” stated ascot-boy.
“We’ve known each other since elementary school” red-head added.
To Arthur, that confirmed his suspicions. He knew he’d never seen any of these people. That they were trying to convince him otherwise meant nothing good. Should he confront them on it, or play along until Lewis and Vivi found him?
Apparently playing along was out, as now they were all looking at him with small frowns. Note to self: work on poker face.
“Look you had your fun. Pretend the cursed mirror is real, ha ha,” Wow, glasses-girl’s disapproval sounded like Lewis when you tracked mud into the house. Hmm, she had acknowledge the mirror which was odd for this kind of scheme. Maybe it was a give-you-a-reason-you’re-hallucinating deal? “But you really need to drop this, Shaggy.”
“Rat’s rot Raggy!” a voice growled.
Arthur turned his head slightly and came face to muzzle with a large Great Dane. He practically teleported backwards. He only had one experience with large talking canids. And no matter how necessary it had been, he still walked away with one less limb.
“Okay, that’s really taking this too far, scaring Scooby like that!” he heard redhead exclaim. But his eyes weren’t coming off the ‘dog’.
It merely shook his head. “Rot a rank. Rat’s rot Raggy!” it insisted.
“What is that?” Arthur demanded of his captors.
“Your dog?” Ascot-boy answered as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
“One: I don’t have a dog. Two: Dogs don’t talk,” Arthur hissed.
The large canid took a step towards him and Arthur raise his arm in defense. He’d thought nothing could distract him from the creature in front of him. He was wrong.
His attention was completely consumed by the flesh and blood left arm now blocking his field of vision. He lowered the arm, watching the fingers twist and flex at his command. He ran his right finger over the arm and flinched at actually feeling sensations from it.
“This is impossible,” he whispered. His heart was pounding in his chest. He stared wide-eyed at the teenagers in front of him. “How did you do this? Why?” Was this meant as a boon or a way to break him further? Even with magic, replacing a limb with an actual one was nigh impossible. He was suddenly hyper-aware of the sensations from it. He could feel the fine hairs standing up on end and the fabric of his T-shirt brushing against it.
He tried to brush the sleeve away and froze when he saw the color. It couldn’t have been on purpose. Those cultists had no way of knowing what that color meant for him. But it was the last thread for Arthur’s mind.
Too late, Mystery Inc realized what ever was wrong with their friend, it wasn’t a prank, as Shaggy crashed to the ground in a dead faint.