It had been a week since Shaggy had been to the Broken Spine. In that week he had learned nothing about zombies. He had also barely touched the books but that was besides the point. As Shaggy stretched out his muscles and looked around him. The shelter he'd built himself was made up of mostly spare scrap metal that he had pulled off the sides of buildings and such.

It was a comfortable enough hut, but only really big enough for one person to sleep in. Maybe two if the other person was small and didn't mind being squished up next to him. But the only people who fit fit that description anywhere near Shaggy, were also undead monsters, and that was a solid 'no thanks' for him.

As Shaggy stepped out into the world, the first thing he did was turn left, towards his graveyard. It wasn't really a graveyard. Nobody was buried there anyway, but his parents had wound up in some pit somewhere, and that hadn't felt right. Hadn't felt like enough. So he built them a small memorial, with smooth white rocks serving as the headstones.

Although strange, Shaggy had made it a habit to talk to these stones. It kept him sane in some small way.

"Like, hey mom," he smiled, "Hi dad!"

But then his eyes turned towards the third stone, this one was grey, hadn't quite settled into the dirt like the others had and— Shaggy had convinced himself— was shaped like a cheeseburger.

Shaggy's voice was caught in his throat, he took a great shuddering breath, and grimaced, "like, hey, Scooby ol' buddy."

Shaggy sat down on her dirt, his hands shaking like earthquakes. He swallowed a sob and stared down at the gray stone, tracing the top of it with his finger. Scooby wasn't buried there either. Shaggy didn't have the strength to carry him, so his body was in the woods on the outskirts of town.

Shaggy hadn't been sure what had happened to Scooby Doo. He'd been bitten by a zombie, but instead of turning him, the bacteria had slowly eaten away at him. He stopped talking. Wouldn't eat. And as it got worse Shaggy saw his best friend became more...well... doglike, until finally he was unrecognizable as Scooby Doo and just acted like... and animal. Scooby had been weak and dazed, barely aware of his surroundings. Shaggy knew the end was near.

So, on Scooby's last day, the two went for a walk together. They went up through the woods and into the shade until finally Scooby couldn't carry his own weight anymore and stumbled to the ground at the base of a great big birch tree.

It was there where Shaggy sat, stroking the matted fur on the top of Scooby's head as his breathing wavered, then stopped all together. Shaggy closed his eyes and sat there, still petting Scooby. He didn't stop until nightfall forced him back to the safety of his shelter.

Shaggy sniffed at the memory of that day. It was amazing to him just how painful a memory could be.

"I sure do miss you pal." Shaggy whispered down to the stone, "like, I hope they have Scooby Snacks in the great beyond."

He patted the stone before he stood up to stretch. As he did, his eyes fell on the beautiful view of Crystal Cove. Beautiful at any angle, but from this high vantage point? It was simply a heavenly sight to behold.

Shaggy's stomach groaned loudly. It was a beautiful view from the cliff, but, from down there? There was food. No matter how many times he swore up and down that he was done with Crystal Cove. He wasn't.

Maybe it was just the fact that miraculously, the canned foods section of the grocery store hadn't been depleted yet, or maybe it was the sweet Pacific sun to which he'd grown so accustomed. Maybe thats what was keeping him from leaving his home in the dust. But as he listlessly wreaked his brain, hoping for some better reason, he came up with only one.

If Shaggy left Crystal Cove, what else did he have to do? If not the self-imposed duty to preserve the homes of his friends, what was his end goal? To survive until he was killed? That seemed like a pointless idea.

A long time ago, when the Crystal Cove first collapsed and became a ghost town, Shaggy had entertained the idea of leaving to look for his friends. But years passed, and Shaggy knew by now they were probably dead.

So as Shaggy plodded along into town, running his fingers through his hair mindlessly, he wondered about his friends. How had they died? Knowing Fred and especially Daphne, it had probably been something romantic for them. Like one of them jumping in front of the other to block a bite.

And Velma? She was probably on the East coast, if she was dead, Shaggy would guess that she'd died of something like starvation. She was smart enough not to be mowed down by zombies.

Shaggy frowned, he hated that thought. The mental image of Velma, sallow, sunken-figured and dying, was an image that made Shaggy want to hurl. How long did Velma last out there? A year? Longer? He had no way of knowing.

He crouched down and plucked a stick from where it was lying on the road. He dragged it behind him.

Maybe that was why he couldn't bring himself to add headstones for his old friends. It was easier to delude himself into thinking they were alive.

Yeah, he placated himself, Like, I'm sure they're out there somewhere.

As he came to the border of Crystal Cove, he looked up and read the sign proclaiming the town to be the "most hauntedest place on Earth." Shaggy sighed. The whole world was haunted now.

—-

I am very sorry. Sad chapter, but it was nice to check in on Shaggy at least. I've decided these mini chapters will probably be mostly him. Like I said there won't be one every week but this certainly isn't the last one either. Thanks so much for reading, let me know what you thought. See y'all on Tuesday.