Thank you for all the kind comments I received on the last chapter. You're all really nice and supportive. Because writing seems to help me get through tough times, I may be doing a bit more of it for the next month or so. This will probably mean that my stories will be updated a lot faster than usual.

Two young girls skipped through the clouds.
One of them stopped and began to look down.
The other one asked, "What do you see?"
The first said, "Someone praying for me."
The second asked, "What are they saying?"
The answer: "God, bless Rose and Jane."
These are the words I pray every day,
Hoping in Heaven they hear what I say.

I wrote this short poem in memory of Jane and Rose - my biggest fans, my best friends in the world. Forever in my heart.

Chapter 9 The End of the Beginning

Fred's breath was coming abnormally fast, and his mind was possessed by only one thought - Daphne. He was attempting to pace across the floor in Chief Kessler's office, though this action was inhibited by his injured leg. A doctor had informed him that it was nothing more than a fracture, so a brace would need to be worn for a while. Even still, this injury would not stop him from nervously limping backa and forth. Shaggy, Velma, Scooby and the chief were all present as well, watching the blonde boy with growing concern.

"Fred, she'll contact us soon," Velma assured him from her seat. "Morte always gives us instructions on how to find the people she takes."

Fred lifted his hands to his head and rubbed his palms against his forehead. "Ugh, but why is it taking so long?" he asked nervously. "Why haven't we heard from her yet? What if she's done something to Daphne?" At this, he looked at each of the people in the room, his blue eyes wide with fear.

"R'its r'okay, Freddie," Scooby barked in an attempt to calm him.

"Can't we be doing something?" Fred asked. It was clear that he was feeling completely useless at the moment. He needed to feel that, in some way, he was helping get Daphne back safely.

Chief Kessler shook her head. "I'm afraid there's nothing we can do until contact is made. As soon as she talks to you, we'll do everything we can to bring this nutjob down."

Fred nodded, though he still looked extremely agitated. "Right. This is going to be the end. All of this is going to be over soon. This is going to be the end..." Saying these words had a somewhat theraputic effect. Fred was almost beginning to believe them when the chief's phone rang.

The noise was shrill and sudden, startling Shaggy. He lept up from his seat and landed on Velma's lap. After realizing that it was only the phone, he muttered some incomprehensible excuse. Velma merely giggled, finding his hand and intertwining her fingers with his.

Fred observed this little moment with a strange sort of jealousy and wonder. Would he ever reach that stage with Daphne? How was it fair that Shaggy and Velma still had each other while he was left completely alone?

Fred was pulled from his musings by the chief turning her phone on speaker. The voice on the other line was the familiar one of Morte.

"Rosewood Park, be there at eight.
For Daphne's sake, don't be late.
You must meet me alone, Fred,
Or your love will soon be dead."

There was a faint click as Morte hung up. Everyone in Kessler's office simply stood rooted in their spots, staring intently at the phone on the desk.

"Like, what happens now?" Shaggy asked in a quiet voice, almost as if he was afraid to break the heavy silence that had fallen over the room.

Fred seemed to regain his speech as he replied, "I'll go." He stuck his chin out and held his head high in a pose that clearly displayed the confidence and courage he was in possession of. "I'm going. I'll talk to Morte. I'll save Daphne. This is the end. It all ends tonight."

For the next several minutes, Chief Kessler made several futile attempts to convince Fred to bring backup. She claimed it was unsafe, for Morte was completely mental. This was true, but Fred merely referred back to Morte's instruction that he must be alone. Finally, the two agreed that Fred would wear a wire and the police would be stationed in a van down the street.

As soon as this agreement had been made, Fred glanced at the clock. It was already seven o'clock, though waiting an hour seemed the equivalent of waiting an eternity.

"Do you mind if you set me up with the wire now?" Fred asked. "I want to head over to the park early."

Chief Kessler looked a bit perplexed by this request, though she concented and had her team get everything ready.

By 7:15, Fred was limping toward a small wooden bench situated in the middle of Rosewood Park. On the back of the seat, a commemorative inscription announced that this particular bench was dedicated to Rosewood in honor of a woman named Jane Tyler. For a while, Fred allowed his mind to wander. Who was Jane Tyler? What had she done in her life that made her worthy of such remembrance? It was strange to him that he'd never heard of her. Perhaps she had been amiable and outgoing and wonderful. Perhaps someone had loved her the way Fred loved Daphne. All of this could have been true, yet Fred had never heard her name mentioned before. Was this why the bench had been decorated with the plaque - to make sure that everyone who passed it knew who Jane Tyler was?

Thoughts of the dead, the unknown and the forgotten continued to ramble about in Fred's mind. He was so absorbed in his musings that he didn't notice that someone had joined him on Jane's bench.

"Hello, Freddie," the traumatizing voice greeted.

Fred's body immediately tensed. He felt a fresh wave of panic run through his body, washing away all thoughts.

"Don't worry," Morte said, a smile on her lips. "I won't bite - much."

Fred stared at the woman next to him. Her eyes were as dark and wild as ever, letting him know that not much had changed since their last encounter. He then called back all previous memories he'd had of Morte: the eerie notes, the murder of Mary, the explosion at school, Daphne's kidnapping. "Where is she?"

"Oh, don't worry. I'll tell you soon enough. But first, I thought we'd have a little talk," Morte said, still grinning. Upon noticing that Fred was going to remain silent, she continued, "You live an awfully dangerous life. You love Daphne. These two things don't go well together."

"What are you talking about?" Fred asked, curious despite his better judgment. Morte was discussing a sensitive topic - his care for Daphne - allowing the basketcase to get under his skin.

"Well, look at what happened here," the mad woman explained. "If watching her friends nearly die wasn't traumatizing enough, she was also captured and threatened. And do you know why I did it?" Morte asked him. She could tell that this conversation had really pulled some of the strings inside him. "I only did all of that to get to you," she whispered.

Fred was trying to ignore everything she was saying, but Morte was inside his head, rattling around in his mind, playing off his greatest emotions.

"The only reason I ever thought about kidnapping Daphne was because I knew that it would affect you the most." Morte noted Fred's grim, severe expression, and she began to laugh. It was the same insane laughter that haunted the dreams of each member of Mystery Inc. "Just imagine how many other psychopaths you'll meet later on. If they're half as crazy as I am, they'll want to mess with you the same way I have - by taking the thing you love most." Morte had stopped chuckling by now. She leaned closer and lowered her voice to a whisper. "As long as you're close to her, she's not safe."

Fred was furious. He just wanted Morte to stop talking, though he couldn't say anything of the sort until he was sure she couldn't harm Daphne any more. However, there was another reason for his rage. He knew she was right. Morte was right, but Fred didn't want to admit this. If what she claimed was true, then Fred could never tell Daphne how he felt. If he did, she would be the most obvious target for anyone who wished to cause him pain. That thought - that maybe there were more like Morte in the world - caused him a great deal of anguish and frustration.

Morte, seemingly oblivious to Fred's emotional turmoil, resumed speaking. "Do you know why I'm like this? All of the strings inside me just snapped (A/N: A person having strings inside them is definitely not my original idea. I got it from the book Paper Towns which is a brilliant piece of literature). Everyone has these strings that hold them together. When they break, a person will either lose all humanity or they'll take their own life. And I was never fond of suicide. That's why I'm like this." Morte almost seemed to get lost in her own thoughts for a brief moment. She was contemplating these last few sentences, looking back at the memories that caused her to break. Suddenly, she snapped out of her trance. The normalness that had overcome her for a few seconds was gone, replaced by her usual wild and crazy look. "I bet I could make your strings snap. I could make you just like me. And all I would have to do is kill your precious Daphne and everyone else you love. Imagine that - you're family and friends: gone. That's what holds you together - your love for these people. Without them, you'd be just like me. They're the reason you live, the reason you're normal. If I just cut that string, you and I will be the same. And it could all start with Daphne." Morte laughed loudly, more than before.

"Don't you dare hurt her," Fred growled threateningly.

Morte's wild laughter began to die down. "Oh, don't worry, Freddie. I'll give her back to you. But, remember, as long as it's clear that you love her, Daphne isn't safe. And, trust me, I'm not the worst you're going to see." With these words, Morte rose from the bench. "There's a blue Mazda parked about a block away from here. You'll find your girl in the trunk."

Fred stood, facing Morte. A smile was spread across his face. "Now that you've told me where she is, ten police officers are coming over to arrest you." Sure enough, several pairs of footsteps could be heard in the distance. Fred leaned in a bit closer. "This is the end."

Morte began grinning as well, her smile causing Fred's to faulter. "On the contrary, this is only the beginning."

She pulled a small device out of her pocket and pressed a red button on it. This triggered some sort of small explosion in one of the nearby trees. Fred turned his head toward the blast, relieved to see that no officers had been hurt by the device. When he looked back around, he discovered that Morte was no longer there. Instead, rustling could be heard in a few bushes to his right.

"Where'd she go?" a police officer asked, running up toward Fred.

The boy pointed silently in the direction of the noise he'd heard, though he was quite certain that Morte would be long gone by now. This was proven true when the officer returned a moment later with a piece of paper in his hand. He gave the note to Fred, who was about to read it when he remembered that Daphne was in the trunk of a car. The note still in hand, Fred sprinted down the block until he found the car specified by Morte. Closing his eyes and saying a silent prayer, Fred tried to open the trunk. Surprisingly, it was unlocked.

"Daphne," Fred whispered, breathing a sigh of relief as he laid eyes on the familiar red-head. Even bound and gagged, she looked as beautiful as ever.

Fred hurriedly undid the knots that trapped her wrists together and removed the piece of cloth from her mouth. He then realized that she was crying. There was no sight more depressing that this: tears streaking silently from her sad eyes.

"Oh, Daphne," he said softly, pulling the girl into a hug, stroking her strawberry blonde hair. He gently lifted her out of the trunk and placed her feet firmly on the ground.

"Freddie," she replied, unable to say anything else.

So many emotions were flowing through both of them at that moment that it was difficult to know which to act on. In the end, it was compassion that won out over the rest. Fred pulled back a little from their hug and leaned closer. His lips touched hers for a brief moment before he cut the kiss off. After this, the two of them remained in each others arms, holding their love close to them and never wanting to let go.

Despite the joy of their renunion, Fred could not help but think of the words that Morte had said to him. It was then that he recalled the note, and, still holding onto Daphne, he read the piece of paper.

A difficult decision you must make,
For now I know the string to break.
You like having her in your arms,
But here she'll be prone to harm.
You're like me, so I'll be back.
Only one more string to snap.

-Morte

P.S. Like I said, this is just the beginning.

A/N: Not too proud of this chapter, but tell me what you think.