Hello there, how are you? I am re-editing this chappie before going onto the sixth one due to popular demand of there actually BEING a sixth one. So enjoy, for the next chapter will be up soon.

DISCLAIMER: If I did own it, there would've never have been a SASDGAC. Case closed.

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Chapter Three:

Surprise

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Ombra's eyes widened as he heard Sangue's howl ripple throughout the gorge, and his body flooded with an icy dread. No, it couldn't have been an hour already! he thought, as he began to tremble uncontrollably. It was only then that he realized just what he'd done. At the spur of the moment, in a fit of disgust and disbelief, he'd thrown away everything that mattered to him: his home, his immortality. His daughter... Oh God, what had he done? All to save some stupid kids who would end up dying anyways. He was a fool, an idiot, and now a dead man, for his one, selfish hour was over; now, what was left of his soul would be devoured, and no mercy would be shown.

And while he came to these sudden, harsh epiphanies, the gang was watching him, waiting for him to tell him what was going on; and, more importantly, to help try to save their friend.

"Uh, Mr. Scorretto?" The old man's head snapped up at Daphne's voice, which, all of a sudden, seemed to be far too loud in the silence that had descended upon the gorge. "What was that?" And the silence swept in again, hovering over everyone's heads heavily, as they waited for an answer.

"That?" Ombra finally said, after a few moments of contemplation, which seemed much longer in their quiet surroundings,"That was something that you shouldn't ever have to hear."

"Again, what exactly was that?" Fred asked him impatiently. The gang's frustration was growing, and the old manservant could feel it in the tension that hung between them all.

Ombra sighed. He'd have to tell them the truth; since they had no way to escape their death, they might as well know what was going to kill them. As well, it wouldn't do to keep secrets from those who were going to perish anyways. "Fine. I might as well tell you, since you're gonna die. That was The Master's pet BloodBeast, Sangue."

"R-Rhat's ra R-RoodReast?" Scooby stuttered out from behind Velma's legs, quivering like there was no tomorrow, which, for him, might have been true in the situation at hand.

At this, the old man snorted. They didn't know what a BloodBeast was? Dear God, they were stupid. "I know about your little group. You've solved—what, a few hundred? —mysteries, AT LEAST, and you've never heard of a BloodBeast? Pathetic," he spat, leaving the youngsters looking rather taken aback at what had just been said about them. The smallest was able to shake it off quickly.

"Just tell us what it is, please," Velma begged him, as she tried not to break down into tears and beg him to fix her friend that lay serenely at his feet. "By what you're saying, it almost sounds as if our lives are at stake."

When the bespectacled girl finished this statement, Ombra did something very startling, and very strange: He began to laugh uncontrollably, wheezing and cackling in a strange, cacophonous way. "SOUNDS like? My dear girl, ALL of your lives are most CERTAINLY at stake. You have no idea what this thing can do. I, however, have been forced to watch it feed, and I can tell you that it is one of the most horrifying things on this earth to witness, much less live through. Or rather, to die from." He chuckled. "For no one, and I mean NO ONE, has ever looked that creature in the eye and lived. And now, it's my turn to feel that beast's teeth in my stomach."

"And us? Will we—will we die, too?" Daphne asked him, deep inside already knowing what the answer was.

"Yes, you will all die. But do look at the bright side. Your friend—Shaggy, was it?—is already dead, so you don't have to worry about him suffering anymore." And with these words, the gang gasped, horrified and heartbroken, and Scooby burst into tears, curling up besides Velma's feet as the rest struggled not to cry in the same way.

"He-He's dead?" Fred choked out, as he pulled Daphne closer to him, forcing himself not to look at his friend's lifeless body.

"Well, yes." Ombra looked at his nails, seeming to be bored by everything; in reality, he was just trying to distract himself from his own, painful demise that was soon to come. "There was really nothing I could do for him. You see, he was too far gone for me to fix, too much blood lost and some organs almost completely destroyed. Besides, he had already seen the Abyss, already absorbed the shadows. You can't do all of that and still expect to live. They're already taking his body. See?" He pointed over to where his body lay, the rain already washing away his faded blood. Their eyes widened at what they saw, and Scooby stopped crying.

The shadows were slithering all over his body. They played delicately in and around his numerous wounds, and ruffled his hair. They slid in and out of his mouth, and wrapped themselves around his limbs, gliding over his skin like snakes.

They were, indeed, slowly devouring their friend.

Scooby growled angrily and started forward, as did his other friends. They weren't going to let anything get in the way of stopping something from taking their best friend away from them, not to be desecrated and fed to--to-- to whatever these things were.

It was then that a harsh, low, guttural growl rumbled behind them, shaking them to their bones and to their very core. The gang stopped, as they remembered the creature that the old man had spoken of, now terrified for their own lives, as they all turned around to face the most frightening thing that they'd ever seen.

Alright. Maybe one thing would get in the way.

(--9--0--9--)

They were back.

But it was different now. They weren't here to take him, or to force him over the edge into their deception of Reality.

They were healing him.

A familiar chill arose as the shadows once again danced lightly across his skin. He could feel his heart start to beat agin in a slow and comforting mantra, the blood gradually starting to flow again. He felt his stomach start to knit together, the blood vessels reconnecting, muscles joining together again. New skin flowed across his torso like a rippling sea, his many cuts and bruises fading away. Broken ribs that had pierced his lungs rose back into place, and the marrow melded together like hot, liquid iron, straightening out his broken leg and snapping it back into place. He took a slow, tentative breath, and found that he could breathe again, his fingers twitching as feeling spread throughout his now perfectly repaired body. He could only wonder…

Shaggy opened his eyes, and saw the endless grey sky stretched above him, rain falling lightly all around him.

He was alive. But his stomach—was it really fixed?

He sat up. The agonizing, stabbing pain he had felt was gone. He looked down.

The hole was gone.

The shadows had healed him. They had saved his life.

Shaggy breathed out a sigh of relief, only then realizing that he had been holding it. He laid back and closed his eyes.

He was alive.

He couldn't believe it. He was alive.

He laughed at the way he was acting, and at how he was feeling in that one, miraculous moment. The rain felt cool, the air was wonderfully fresh, and he was alive, if acting a little crazy. But he couldn't help himself. He felt clean, new, almost reborn, and he was alive. He laughed again. He had to stop acting this way, but he just couldn't help himself. For one blissful moment, he was content, as the rain seemed to sweep away all traces of the pain and suffering that had occurred only moments before.

That was before he heard the screams; and before he smelt the pungent, metallic scent of blood as it filled the air.

He sat up quickly, a small twinge of pain humming throughout his stomach. Of course there'd be some pain left afterward; almost his entire stomach had been destroyed when the spike went through.

The thought was soon forgotten as an ear-splitting roar echoed throughout the gorge; the sound of flesh being torn from the bone, and blood splattering onto the surrounding stone, rang in Shaggy's ears. He stood up, and, without knowing why, headed towards where the roar had come from; but, for some unfathomable reason, he wasn't afraid. Instead, he felt a strange familiarity, almost as if he knew what lay beyond the ridge.

He crept towards the edge of the clearing where he'd been, quickly looking around for a weapon, before deciding on the cane that the old man left behind before daring to look out from behind a rock. And as his eyesd absorbed the scene before him, Shaggy gasped in surprise, while the shadows that had slunk alongside him wriggled with glee at the horrors that they beheld beside their new Master.

The sight before him was terrifying.

The entire clearing was smattered with blood, which was slowly starting to be swept away by the rain. The old man who had tried to help him earlier was laying on his side, with several slashes on his body bleeding heavily, only barely left alive. His face appeared to have aged far too much within the past few minutes, and his eyes were filled with something strange that he couldn't quite identify. And the gang... well, they were standing-- or rather, cowering-- against a large boulder, cornered by some unseen creature, with a hopeless fear shining brightly in their ever-widening eyes, as they tried to find a way out of whatever they'd gotten into in a panicked senselessness, their clothes covered in mud, dirt, sand, and smatterings of red. It was this look about them that frightened the beatnik most of all. For what is more terrifying then seeing the people you find the bravest and strongest in your life afraid for their lives and completely powerless to change their fate? The answer, of course, is simple-- nothing.

It was then that Shaggy knew that he had to, somehow, save them from whatever this thing was. It was so strange; usually, he'd be terrified to the point of desperation, and yet at the moment he wasn't at all worried or frightened of whatever he was about to face off against. Where was it anyways?

It was then that he heard a growl, more like a distant roll of thunder then anything else, echo throughout the area around them. A scattering and crunching of rocks underfoot was heard as heavy footsteps fell heavily onto the broken, gravelly ground. And as the gang began to tremble and quake even harder then before, he turned his gaze to the approaching creature as it re-entered the clearing, with shadows swirling around its feet as they did his own; and as its eyes swept the area around it, he suddenly saw why it was so familiar, and why he didn't feel afraid.

The creature was a dog.

But, not just any dog. A dog that was three times the size of an average person, with jet black fur streaked with ruby. Its muscles rippled powerfully as it growled at the four huddling humans and the cowering Dane, who were about to become its next meal. Lightening tore the sky in half, and thunder rumbled in the distance. Its jaws, lined with blade-like teeth, seemed to be carved and melded together from stone and steel, and its vicious ebony claws were still smeared with the old man's blood. The creature's eyes were a cold, harsh, silver, speckled with black and maroon. And as its eyes glared menacingly at the terrified beings before it, a name came to Shaggy's mind; one which he knew belonged to the creature. Memories which he'd never known he had were flooding back to him; and, without meaning to, he spoke.

"Sasha?" he whispered. Her head spun around at this new, sudden intrusion whose voice cut through the fearful, unsteady silende like a knife, and he clasped his hand to his mouth, hoping to stifle his now harsh and panicked breathing. But it was too late. She had heard, and she was coming to get the one who had so rudely interrupted her meal.

And it was only now that he truly began to feel afraid.

Very afraid indeed.

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