Sponge: This chapter features someone dislocating their shoulder. If you read the preface...you've probably guessed who it is. Anyway, here's chapter 16! Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Scooby Doo characters. They belong to Cartoon Network, Warner Brothers, and Hanna Barbera.

Chapter 16: We Have To Get Out Of Here

Shaggy's initial theory was right – there were not that many places to hide in the guest house. As a group, the four of them searched the house high and low – or rather from end to end, since there was only one level – but found no sign of Scooby.

"Like this doesn't make sense," Shaggy exclaimed, trying to keep from hyperventilating. They were back in the living room now, but he paced frantically back and forth. "Where did he go? He wouldn't have gone back to the main house, would he?"

"Hey," said Velma, moving to stand in front of him. He reluctantly stopped pacing and she put a soothing hand on his arm. "Shh, it's okay. I'm sure he wouldn't go back to the manor in this weather." She didn't feel very adept at providing comfort, but Shaggy had made her feel better earlier. She wanted to return the favor. She wanted to be a good girlfriend.

But she didn't think she was helping much.

"Then like, where is he?" Shaggy was not having an easy time keeping the panic out of his voice. He glanced towards one of the broken windows. "You don't think he's outside, is he?"

BOOM

Thunder crashed at the same time a huge bolt of lightning streaked across the sky.

The gang jumped despite themselves.

"I'm positive he's not out there," Daphne assured Shaggy, sharing a meaningful look with Fred. Shaggy appeared on the verge of losing his mind, so it was extra important that the others remain calm.

Fred nodded. "Of course not," he agreed. "I'm sure he's around here…somewhere." But he sounded dubious. Because where the hell would he be? They'd scoured every inch of the house. Scooby was not in it.

Shaggy paused for half a second, and then raced towards the front door, wrenching it open to run onto the porch. "SCOOB!" he shouted into the storm.

"Shaggy!" Daphne cried, chasing after him. "Get back inside – he's not out there!"

"You don't know that!" he shouted back.

"Shaggy, please!" Velma had joined them on the porch now, and she shielded her eyes against the rain. "Come back inside. You were right earlier – it's not safe to be out in this weather. Besides, he wouldn't have left!"

"Then like, somebody took him!" Shaggy said. "Louisa and Frank or the Farquards or someone came out here and kidnapped him!" He heard how crazy he sounded, but all rational thought had taken off.

Fred stood in the doorway and shared another look with Daphne. They hadn't been privy to the discovery of Louisa's bell, so they didn't understand the correlation.

But Velma did. "Shaggy, please listen to me," she said. "It's dangerous for us to be out here. Scooby's not outside, so please come back in. We'll find him!"

"Well that would require us to like, actually look out here," Shaggy replied before turning on his heel to run off the porch into the storm. But in his haste, he hadn't realized how close he was to the edge of the steps, and fell off the porch. He threw out his arms to help break his fall, but landed with a sickening thud and a pained scream.

And it wasn't just an "ow-I-fell-off-the-porch" kind of scream. It was an "I-seriously-injured-myself" kind of scream.

"Oh my God!" Velma cried, racing down the short steps. "Shaggy, are you okay?" He had landed in mud, and the entire left side of his body was covered with it. She reached down to help him up.

"Agghhhh!" Shaggy let out another agonized yell, clutching his shoulder. He sank back into the mud. "No, no, no, don't touch it!"

Velma froze at the tone of his voice. It was dark and rainy, but she could vaguely tell that when Shaggy had caught himself as he fell off the porch, he'd landed on his arm wrong. He was hurt badly. Worse than she'd originally thought. Was his wrist sprained? His arm broken? She glanced back onto the porch at Fred and Daphne, who each wore stricken expressions. Clearly neither of them had realized how badly Shaggy had been hurt either.

"...Uh…okay," she said, mostly because she couldn't think of anything else to do. She knew that she should at least get him back inside where it was relatively dry. "Ca-can you stand?"

Shaggy winced. "Maybe," he said through gritted teeth. "Can you help me up…like, by my other arm? This one's..." He didn't finish his sentence. He moved his head an infinitesimal amount towards the shoulder he cradled, hissing in pain as he did so.

Gingerly, she helped him up by his non-hurt arm, and led him back up the stairs and into the house.

"Here Shag, sit down," Fred said, helping him over to the couch. Shaggy obeyed, still favoring his arm as Fred brought out his flashlight. He glanced over at the girls. "Can I get another light over here? It'll be easier to see what's wrong."

"Here," Velma said, holding her flashlight up. It briefly illuminated Shaggy soaking and shivering on the couch. She turned away again to face Daphne, who was watching the others nervously. "Daph, there's a blanket in the bedroom down the hall…could you go grab it? We can use it as a towel."

Daphne nodded, looking relieved to have a task, and darted off.

Velma turned back to the boys, her breath hitching when she was finally able to shine her flashlight fully on Shaggy's shoulder. It had been hard to tell outside in the darkness of the storm with the rain obscuring her glasses, but she could see now. Something was seriously wrong with Shaggy's shoulder. It looked more boxy than rounded, and his arm hung limply, as if it had fallen out of its socket.

"Oh, jinkies…" she breathed, feeling a bit sick. She wasn't normally squeamish, but she covered her mouth with one of her hands, staring wide-eyed as Fred examined Shaggy.

"I think you may have dislocated your shoulder," Fred told him. "I saw this a lot on the football team, when I used to play. It's not usually serious, but it does hurt."

"Yeah like, no fucking kidding," Shaggy remarked, still grimacing. "Can you fix it?"

Fred frowned. "I mean, I can try to pop it back into place – we were required to do sports med in high school for football, so I know how – but there's not much I can do beyond that. We'll have to get you to a doctor, and maybe try to make a sling in the meantime."

Daphne had returned by then with the blanket and, for some reason, a pair of kitchen shears. "Here," she said, brandishing the shears. "I found these earlier when Fred and I were searching the kitchen. I'll cut off part of the blanket to make a sling."

"Good idea, babe," Fred said.

That reminded Velma of the thing she had found earlier. "Oh I almost forgot!" she exclaimed, reaching into her pocket. "Look what Shaggy and I found!"

Daphne looked up from the blanket. "What is that?" she asked, shining her flashlight over.

"It's Aunt Louisa's bell," Velma replied.

Fred blanched. "Where did you find that?" he asked.

"In the bedroom," Velma replied, gesturing down the hall with a jerk of her head. "It was under that blanket."

Daphne had finished cutting off a strip of the blanket, and brought the larger part over to Shaggy. "Here you go," she said. "Dry yourself off as best you can. I can tie this strip into a sling while Freddie resets your arm and Velma tells us how she found that bell."

Velma blushed. She didn't want to admit that she and Shaggy had been making out. Absently, she started running her hand along the side table next to the couch, moving her finger along the intricate designs. . "Well, uh…"

As she traced the wooden carvings on the table, she noticed a thin drawer on the side. Curious, she opened it. There was nothing in there, apart from a crumpled, rectangular piece of paper. She pulled it out, frowning. "Huh."

Fred looked up from Shaggy, whose arm he still hadn't touched. "What'd you find now?"

Wordlessly, Velma handed the paper to him.

Fred unfolded the paper, squinting at it. "It looks like an envelope," he said. The others had gathered around him, peering over his shoulder to study it. He turned to look at Shaggy. "And it's addressed to the General."

Shaggy inhaled. It was true – Chastain Orville Beauregard III's name and address were written clear as day in the center of the envelope.

"Is there anything inside?" Velma asked.

Fred shook his head. "No, it's empty."

Daphne gently took the envelope from Fred's hands. "The return address is from Baton Rouge," she said. "The Southern Louisiana Historical and Genealogical Society."

Shaggy shared a look with Velma. "Why was a genealogical society writing to my great-uncle?"

"Hmm," Velma said, thinking. "Remember what you said on our way to the island? About what you thought your family should do with the property if you won the contest?"

Shaggy did. The same wave of shame and disgust he'd first felt at learning his family history washed over him again. "Well," he said ruefully. "Like, it looks like I might get my wish. I'm the last heir here, and I still think we should turn this place into a museum or memorial site."

"That's probably what this genealogical society wants too," Velma pointed out. "I bet they wrote to the General to ask if he would consider selling the plantation to them, as a way to make reparations."

Fred frowned. "Well whatever the reason, it was recent. This envelope is postmarked from less than a month ago."

Daphne continued to study the envelope. She was about to say something, when there was a sudden movement beneath them, like the floor was sinking. Daphne hadn't been expecting it and tripped backwards towards the fireplace.

"Holy shit!" Fred exclaimed, getting up from the couch. "Babe, are you okay?"

But to everyone's shock, the whole house shook, causing a large chunk of ceiling to fall from above. Fred dove out of the way just in time. Shaggy leapt off the couch to avoid it, crying out in pain as he did so.

"What's going on?!" Daphne exclaimed, moving towards Shaggy and struggling to stand. The storm, which had been steadily growing in ferocity, appeared to have reached its apex now, and she needed to shout to be heard over the sound of the savage wind blowing through the windows.

Velma's eyes grew wide as the floor moved again. "Oh no," she moaned. "The sinkhole."

Shaggy's stomach dropped. He gripped the mantlepiece of the fireplace with his good arm. "Zoinks," he breathed, remembering what Rutherford had said on their drive up to the mansion.

It's not a very big sinkhole, though one more big storm could swallow that guest house.

"We have to get out of here," Daphne exclaimed.

Fred nodded in agreement, starting towards the front door. "Come on Shag, we can fix your arm back at the mansi–"

But he didn't get to finish his sentence before another violent tremor shook the house. Everyone in the gang shouted out in panic, trying to keep their balance. Most of them failed – Fred fell to the ground and Shaggy tripped backwards into the fireplace with a pained shout. Velma flailed for a moment, causing her to let go of the bell in her hand.

It was like it happened in slow motion. The bell went flying, making an almost graceful arc through the air, before landing on the wet hardwood with a soft ding.

And Daphne, who was still hypnotized from that first evening, immediately fell to the ground, fast asleep.

"Daphne!" Fred cried, fear coloring his tone. He staggered to his feet and stumbled along the wall, struggling to maintain his balance as the wind howled through the broken windows around him.

"Fred, get down!" Velma shrieked. Instinctively, Fred ducked. He was just in time – a beam swung down from the rafters of the dilapidated house like a trebuchet, and landed with a sickening crunch against the wall…right where Fred's head had been moments before.

The house shuddered again and everyone screamed, clutching the nearest stable object to maintain balance. Daphne's limp form slid forward slightly, but Shaggy was able to stretch out a hand and grab her arm. He'd hooked one of his feet around the inner edge of the fireplace, since he couldn't use his other arm to do so. "Like, hurry!" he called to Fred and Velma, struggling to drag Daphne closer to him one-handed while his dislocated shoulder hung uselessly at his side.

"Stay down!" Velma ordered, scrambling towards Fred. As the wind whipped through the broken windows and rain stung their cheeks, Fred and Velma gripped each other and began crawling towards Shaggy and Daphne, half dragging each other as they went. Once more, the house lurched and leaned back the other way, helping Fred and Velma on their journey. Shaggy caught Daphne before she slid into the mouth of the empty fireplace, wincing from the accidental pressure on his shoulder, as Fred and Velma skidded along the floor. Once they arrived at the fireplace, Fred immediately reached for Daphne and gathered her into his arms.

"Daph!" he shouted, shaking her shoulders slightly, the worry plain on his face.

Shaggy grasped Velma's outstretched hand and pulled her towards him, gritting his teeth as a jolt of pain shot up his arm. She noticed his grimace and glanced worriedly at his wound.

"It's like, fine," he lied. It wasn't fine. His shoulder hurt like a son of a bitch, but Velma didn't need anything else to worry about right now. Instead, Shaggy shot a pointed look at Daphne, who still lay listlessly in Fred's arms.

Velma glanced over at them, then turned back to share a terrified look with Shaggy.

"Babe," Fred exclaimed, continuing – unsuccessfully – to try and wake Daphne. "Please."

"Fred, she's not –" Velma began, then broke off with a gasp at the splintering sounds of cracking wood from above. The roof was going to cave in any minute. "Quick!" she shouted. "Into the fireplace!"

They scrambled in not a moment too soon. The chandelier went first with an ungraceful crash. Then the rest of the ceiling fell with a terrible thud, the deluge of the storm outside finally free to encroach on the house fully. As rain soaked the decrepit furniture and dusty floor, the house sank further into the ground, and everyone stared at each other, wild-eyed with fear. The house was about to be swallowed by the sinkhole, and they were trapped inside. Anyone who would help was long gone. Daphne was unconscious. Shaggy was hurt. And Scooby was still missing.

"Scooby Doo!" Shaggy shouted above the wind, though he knew it would do no good. "Where are you?!"

Sponge: Unfortunately this will be my last update for a little while...the holidays are always a super busy time for me. I should be back in the new year! Please review in the meantime - they feed the hungry writer's soul!