Light starts with a spark, and, for Shaggy, that spark seemed so mundane when it happened. Only when he looked back did he see how terrifying it really was.
The eight-year-old boy kicked his legs under his chair and watched as his parents, aunts, and uncles bickered quietly over what to do next. An old man brought a teen girl back to the room where she joined her siblings, all much older than Shaggy and avoiding him. The old man offered his hand to the boy, who took it and followed him away from the bitter adults and into a dark room.
The smell of soap and dust assaulted him as he approached a bed. An elderly woman rested, half asleep, under the covers. She smiled at him and her husband.
"Go," she said weakly. "Don't let the children kill each other."
The old man kissed her forehead and left Shaggy alone with her. She held out a hand, which Shaggy took in both of his.
"Sorry to make you wait, Norville," she whispered.
"It's okay. I'm a b-big boy."
"Yes, you are. And handsome."
Shaggy smiled and pulled at his suit jacket. "It's new."
"It's very nice."
Shaggy climbed onto the bed, unafraid of whatever illness gripped her, and sat near her legs. She chuckled weakly until a cough halted it. Shaggy snuggled into her side and watched her carefully.
"Are you gon-gonna be okay, Gramma?"
She dragged a heavy breath in and said, "No, Sweetie. I'm very sick, see? I just wanted to see you all again."
"Are you going to the nice place?" he asked hushedly.
"I hope so. If I do, I get to see you again. Won't that be nice?"
Shaggy shivered at the sudden cold and sat up. A tall figure shrouded in white stood in the corner, a lanturn held in one hand. The other hand reached out, extending long, boney fingers as pale and cold as snow towards the woman. Shaggy squeezed her hand again.
"I love you, Gramma."
The white figure laid a hand on the woman's chest, and she let out a raspy sigh. The figure withdrew, a tiny white flame in its hand. It put the little light in the lanturn.
"You'll take her to the nice place, right?" Shaggy asked it.
The figure seemed to stare at him for a long time. It reached out its hand again and pressed a finger to his nose.
"Boop," it squeaked.
Then it seemed to melt into the floor, leaving Shaggy alone and trying to rub the chill off his face.
"Wait," interrupted Daphne, "you saw Death?"
Shaggy shrugged. "I had an active imagination. It was, like, just another friend, I thought."
"So you already had true sight, like Daph?" asked Velma.
"I mean, I guess? Like, it wasn't an issue until I saw… that."
"I've seen it, too," Freddie said. "Death. It tried to reach for me when I had my near-death experience. But I was scared and ran away."
"I wasn't scared of it," said Shaggy. "It wasn't there for me. I wasn't afraid until it touched me."
"It touched you?" the girls asked in shock.
"Yeah, it went, 'boop!'" Shaggy pushed on his own nose to demonstrate. Freddie started laughing.
"It booped you!" he chuckled.
"I don't think I've been warm since."
Velma scoffed. "I'm not surprised. Daphne?"
"Get the book?"
"Get the book."
Daphne rose quickly and made her way to a trunk. Velma and Freddie stayed silent as she rummaged through it. Shaggy shivered.
"B-book?" he asked.
Freddie grinned. "The necronomicon."
"Well, not the real one," Velma said. "That thing was destroyed centuries ago. This is a fifth edition remake. No power of its own."
"But it is helpful," said Daphne, pulling out a black leather book that smelled vaguely of must. "We've made a few notes of our own in the margins, too."
She opened it and ran a finger down the page. "Let's see… Death, appearance, properties, summoning, banishing, gifts. Page 217."
"'Gift?'"
"Here we are. 'Death can grant many gifts to those that find their favor. While this most commonly manifests as the extension of life through bargaining, Death can also bless people they like with magic, artifacts, or claim…' Sorry. Probably the magic thing."
"Let me see that," Velma demanded, standing up and taking the book. "Oh. Oh, yeah, that looks bad. Okay, 'Magic granted by Death can manifest in a few key ways.' Blah blah blah. Cryokenisis?"
Shaggy tilted his head in confusion.
"It's the ability to manifest cold or freeze things. Stuff like that," said Velma. "Can you do that?"
"No."
"Okay. True sight, you already had. Telepathy? Can you read minds?"
"Only when I touch people," admitted Shaggy. "Or dead things."
Velma's eyes widened, and Daphne pointed to the next page. "Right there," she said."
"Yeah, I see it. Shaggy, you said they… booped your nose?" Shaggy nodded, and Velma started reading what Daphne had pointed at. "'An intense, pervasive sensation of cold-'"
Shaggy raised his arms. "Always."
"'Ability to see and hear ghosts.'"
"Check."
"'Post-cognition.'"
Shaggy rubbed the stubble on his chin. "That'd be, like, seeing the past when I touch something, right?"
"Exactly. 'Soul sensing.' When you read minds, is it just what they're thinking then, or-?"
"Only if everyone is always thinking of, like, the most traumatic thing that happened to them ever," Shaggy said, a nervous laugh forcing itself from his chest. "Or the worst thing they ever did. There was this one guy when I was on the street- Jesus, he scared the shit out of me- That guy killed, like, at least five kids. I bumped him once for just a second and thought I was dying for a month."
"Is that why you're vegetarian?" asked Freddie.
Shaggy nodded. "It's normally fine, but, every so often, one hangs on a little while, and… I c-can't do it."
"'Apparent immortality.'"
Shaggy stared at her. "Uh, no. I've nearly died a lot. Like the time I drank bad water, the three months I didn't eat… I got hit by a car once as a kid. Broke my leg. It took ages to heal, and I alm-most got robbed, like, twice."
"Was that when you were still on the street?" asked Velma, clearly suspicious.
"Yeah."
"Did you see a doctor?"
"No, they would have ca-called my parents. I didn't-."
"Shaggy," Daphne said gently, "you should be dead."
"So?"
"'Immortality,' not invincibility," said Velma. "You're listing times you were hurt and suffering. You don't need invincibility to be immortal. Still, you healed from that with no issues?"
Shaggy stumbled, "W-well, I had to st-stay off it. Scoob brought me f-f-food. Old fruit and s-stuff."
"You didn't have an NDA, did you?" asked Freddie.
"Not like what ye-you did, no."
"Guys, stop," Daphne said, taking the book from Velma again. "I am so sorry, Shaggy. Please, go eat something."
"Are you sh-sure?"
"Please. You're so scared, my stomach is twisting," she assured him. "Velma can get carried away looking for answers."
"But-!"
Daphne silenced the girl with a threatening finger and a glare. She scoffed and turned on her heel, saying she needed a moment to think alone. Daphne shut the book with a sigh and smiled too big at Shaggy.
"Good share, Shaggy. I promise, we'll help you figure this out."
Shaggy hesitated, then asked, "There was more, wasn't there?"
Daphne's grin vanished. "Telekinesis and assimilation. I'm sure you know what telekinesis is."
"Yes, and yes. I try not to use it, though, because-."
"Ghosts can feel it, right?" Shaggy nodded, and Daphne continued, "Assimilation is… You said Scooby was your everything, right?"
Shaggy nodded again. "He's basically a part of me. Like, I know where 'me' ends and Scoob begins, but… Sometimes it's a little blurry. I can experience him. What he sees, hears, smells…"
"That's good. It means we have a word for your power now. We know what you are, so we can help you control it."
"There's no controlling… that," Velma spat from behind Shaggy, making him jump. "It's not fair. He wouldn't have even known what he was doing. How could anyone do that to a kid?"
"Don't question Death, Vel," Freddie warned.
"No, I think I will. An eight-year-old?" Velma seethed. "What kind of fucked up shit is that?"
Shaggy gripped his head, pressing his earmuffs down as Scooby stood and encircled him, growling at Daphne. Shock washed over her at the aggression and fear vibrating from the pair.
"Please…," Shaggy all but cried. "P-please. I don't like s-s-secrets. I da-don't want this. I don't want t-to be sca-scared anymore!"
"Tell him," Velma ordered, but Daphne shook her head.
"You don't feel what he's going through right now," she said. "He needs time to-."
"Tell him or I will."
"Can't he decide?"
"I want to know. I w-want to know what- what's wrong with me," Shaggy said. "Please…"
Daphne sighed, opened the book again, and held it up so Shaggy could see. His eyes focused on a drawing of the Grim Reaper placing a hand on a young woman's head as she bowed in prayer.
"It's called 'The Kiss of Death,' and it's… just what you said. A lot," Daphne explained. "Did you ask for something?"
"I just asked if- if she was going to the n-nice place."
"Oh, that's total bullshit! That's not even worth it!" Velma shouted.
"Well, the good news is she's definitely somewhere nice," Daphne insisted. "The bad news is… the Kiss is a contract. By making the request, you agreed to be Death's apprentice."