Hello! It's 2020 and it was about time I revised this piece. There's a lot that's changed over the years. Enjoy! Please R&R.

"I'm not so sure about this…" Shaggy muttered cautiously. "This doesn't sound suspicious to anyone else? They are professionals after all."

The morning was off to a rough start for Mystery, Inc. They'd been contacted by a paranormal investigations group for help on a current case, and coming to a decision was not an easy task. The gang was seated around their kitchen table, eating breakfast and trying to make sense of the information they just received.

"After everything we've done, we're not professionals?" Velma retorted, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes.

"I have to agree with Velma on this one, Shaggy," Daphne chimed in, perching her hand on his shoulder, as he was turned away from her. "We do happen to have some idea on what we're doing."

"I'm not sure, guys. I've got a bad feeling about this." Fred sided with Shaggy, which was quite unusual in and of itself. Fred was one of the first to excitedly jump head first into a new case.

"Stop being a drama king, Fred." Velma joked, pushing her glasses up her nose. "We're up against something that we've all agreed is evil. You want them to take that on their own?" She grabbed the house phone, walking outside to the gang's deck and backyard.

"Where is she going?" Fred whined.

"To call them back, Fred." Daphne scowled as she picked up her coffee and stood up."We're not doing this alone." She stalked across the kitchen, joining Velma outside.

Fred put his head in his hands. He understood their want to help, but he was scared this was more than they could handle.

Shaggy sighed in defeat, realizing that once again they were headed straight into danger. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"I still do not like this idea at all." Fred groaned from his cell of the backseat.

"That's why I'm, like, the one driving." Shaggy responded, "You'd have turned the car around the minute we left the driveway."

"Would you watch what gear you drive her in, please?" Fred snapped at Shaggy, referring to his beloved van. "She's delicate."

"Fred, I've driven stick before. I'm not, like, completely incompetent." Shaggy snorted, not even glancing up in the rear view mirror to answer. He shifted the van into a faster gear, and assaulted the gas pedal, sending Fred sliding into the van's rear door. Shaggy snickered to himself.

Daphne had elected to also take the backseat, and as everyone suspected, it was only as an attempt to spend more time with Fred.

'Well how much more time can you spend with the guy?' Velma thought to herself. 'You both sleep in the same bed now.'

It was no secret that the redhead and blonde were sleeping together. That boat had sailed. As awkward as it was going to sleep, it certainly made for some satisfying laughs for Shaggy and Velma the next morning at breakfast. Velma often thought about Shaggy, as their rooms were adjacent, shared a bathroom, and had attended school together all their lives. She felt warm and safe when she was with him.

As Shaggy drove, he gripped the wheel tightly. He also shared the same warm feeling that Velma had, but was completely overwhelmed by embarrassment. Seeing as the young prodigy and lanky man shared a bathroom, it was bound to happen sometime, but it was still completely mortifying. His mind drifted back to the incident…

"Like God, sometimes I hate being a dude." Shaggy groaned as he slipped his boxers off. "Why do I have to deal with… This." Glancing down, Shaggy sighed as he yet again had a severe case of morning wood. As he began to address the problem, he heard the door click, and then swing open.

"Knock knock- oh crap." It was Velma. And she wasn't making eye contact.

"I-um, well, we, uh," Shaggy stuttered, "It's a guy thing?" He smiled haphazardly.

"I-I can see that." Velma squeaked, eyes still transfixed. "It's um. It's nice!" She shouted, completely confused and embarrassed as she fled the bathroom, slamming the door after her.

"Oh shit," Shaggy muttered as he reached for the nearest towel.

By the time Shaggy had replayed the entire scenario in his head, his legs were applying so much pressure against each other they were crushing the very thing that had caused this morning's problem. The more pain he was in, the more he pressed the gas pedal. By this point, Fred, who was completely unaware of the early morning's happenings, was completely irate.

"Oh sweet Jesus let me drive!" Fred howled, reaching a shaking arm over the front seat.

On the other side of the front seat, Velma was completely aware why Shaggy was driving erratically. She felt guilty for making Shaggy feel so self conscious. She placed a hand on his leg gently, which she then realized was too intimate of a gesture. Shaggy was completely red in the face, trying to breathe normally.

"Shaggy," she whispered, "I wanted to apologize. I should have actually knocked."

"Look, I like, don't want to talk about it." Shaggy whispered back.

Velma let the subject drop, seeing as the gang was arriving at their destination: an old, dilapidated house, towering above all the others in the neighborhood. The setting sun cast an eerie backdrop that all of them noticed. Shaggy threw the van into park, and stared nervously at the house before him.

The van started descending into uncomfortable silence before Daphne shattered it. "Well, let's see what we're dealing with." She exited the van, motioning for her friends to follow her.

It wasn't long before the front door of the house opened, and a young man came down the front lawn towards the gang.

"Fred?" He greeted, stretching out his hand.

"I'm Shaggy; Fred's the blonde over there." Shaggy pointed to Fred, who still seemed upset at Shaggy's driving, but managed to wave anyway. Shaggy shook the man's hand.

"I'm Ryan," The man introduced himself. "I'm an investigator with Midstate Paranormal. Thanks for coming so quickly."

"Thanks for the call." Daphne stepped forward, offering her hand. "I'm Daphne, this is Velma."

"So, Ryan, what's the latest on the case?" Velma inquired, eager to get to work.

Ryan's face was grim. "We should go inside. Our client doesn't want the neighbors to hear."

Daphne, Velma & Fred followed Ryan on the path up to the house, leaving Shaggy alone with his thoughts. He was broken out of his trance by Scooby, who was nudging his friend with his cold, wet nose.

"Hey old buddy, old friend, old pal." Shaggy smiled meagerly, scratching Scooby's ears. The tender moment between old friends stopped when man and canine both sensed a presence behind them. Turning, Shaggy saw that it was none other than Velma, with the most apologetic look on her face. He hadn't seen her circle back. Shaggy turned away, leading Scooby Doo into the house.

As soon as Shaggy crossed the threshold in the home, the atmosphere was widly different. Weighted, filed with sadness. Almost difficult to breathe. He felt the hair on his arm stand up, and heard Scooby growling softly. He reached down and scratched his ears, hoping to put him at ease.

The house was dark. Dark paint, dark wood floors, drawn curtains. Night was beginning to nestle the streets outside, with only intensified the feeling inside. They were standing in the front parlor, which had been converted into a mission control room of sorts. There were computers and monitors, with cameras and various audio equipment. It was loud, with several people buzzing about.

His eyes darted about until he caught sight of Daphne turning a corner down a hallway across from the front door. Something immediately told him he needed to get out of that house now. To just turn around and book it. But he forced himself to take one step at a time, venturing further into the house. The hallway was dimly lit, with flickering, flame like lights attempting to brighten the way. He had lost sight of Daphne, but followed the sound of his friends' voices.

He rounded one final corner and found himself in the kitchen, where he found Daphne, Fred and Velma. Ordinarily, he'd be thrilled to have found the kitchen, but he was too bothered by the overwhelming sense of dread that consumed him.

"Mrs. Berkshire is very concerned about what her neighbors will think of this, uh, mess and has asked for total discretion." Ryan was midway through briefing the gang. "We've hit a wall with our investigation. We've had plenty of activity, but no answers." Ryan ran his hands through his hair. "To be honest, I've never had a case like it."

"How long has this been going on?" Velma inquired. "The situation seems a bit dire."

"It is," Ryan answered grimly. "Mrs. Berkshire," he paused, noticing that Shaggy had entered the room. "That's our client," he said to clarify. "She's stated there's been activity for years. The feeling of being followed, interference with the electricity, objects going missing and reappearing later in other places."

"And she's like, just bringing it up now?" Shaggy asked skeptically.

"People will live with it for a long time before they'll ask for help, especially if no one's being hurt. There's still a lot of stigma associated with this. She's elderly, and thought that her family might reconsider her living alone if she brought it up. I know it sounds strange, but it's actually quite common. Ghost hunters aren't the first people you call when you have a wiring problem."

"Poor woman," Daphne sympathized. "She's been through a lot."

"It gets worse." Ryan kept going. "But when the spirit, or demonic force- whatever it is, attacked her daughter, and caused her to miscarry, she put her foot down."

"What do you mean attacked?" Velma inquired.

"Her daughter and son-in-law were sleeping when her daughter, Elizabeth, woke up on the business end of an assault; all that was missing was an attacker. They then saw a black apparition slink out of the room. She miscarried the next day."

Shaggy's heat sank, his face reflecting his thoughts. Though he had never grasped religion growing up, through adolescence, and now as an adult, he still felt that even in the early stages of pregnancy, there was still life, and for some sadistic, undead thing to murder it, just was horrific to him.

Velma, seeing how distraught Shaggy had become over Ryan's last statements, spoke suddenly. "We start tomorrow." And with the room slowly emptied, leaving the gang alone. Shaggy was the first of the Mystery Inc. group to leave, Scooby following him upstairs.

Daphne noticed Shaggy's sullen demeanor and turned to Velma for help. "Do you know what's up with him?"

"Leave it be. He won't talk about it." Velma sighed, "We should get to bed."

Around three am, Velma woke up in a cold sweat. She'd been having nightmares, but that's all she could remember. She had no idea what about. But she knew she woke up scared as hell. She got up to get water, but found herself wandering the hallways of the old house. If she had known there'd been a physical attack, she may not have agreed to sleep there. She couldn't help but feel small in such an intimidating place. With only the light from her cell phone guiding her, she wasn't sure what she was looking for. She came upon a slightly open door. She paused, unsure if she should enter, but chose to enter anyway.

It was a small storage room, filled with boxes. She took another step forward, focusing on the first box in front of her. She crouched down, noticing the box was filled with papers. They were old, filmy, yellowed. A thin layer of dust blanketed the box and floor around it. She took hold of the paper on top, reading carefully.

…Paul Allen Berkshire leaves behind his wife, Claire, and only child Elizabeth Carter (neé Berkshire). He is pre-deceased by mother Faith, father John, and brother William. Final arrangements are pending completion of a police investigation…

'Part of someone's obituary..' Velma noticed the name Elizabeth, who had been mentioned as their client's daughter. Was this her father's obituary? It was just a scrap of paper, no dates, no cause of death- just filed away. Hidden from the outside world. Velma placed the article at her feet, and began to pick through the box.

Nothing stuck out at first, until she found something labeled From the Office of the Putnam County Coroner. She pulled the document out, a small cloud of dust falling to the floor in its wake.

She hurriedly read it over, trying to find anything she could, scanning each line of text until she found it.

Cause of death: Pulmonary embolism.

Manner of death: Unknown.

Velma was still examining the document when the door opened behind her. She lost her balance, dropping to the floor, phone crashing next to her.

"Like, Velma? What are you doing in here?"

She took a sigh of relief. It was just Shaggy. She reached down for her phone, the light shining on his face.

"Thank God it's you." She picked herself up, dusting herself off.

Shaggy was blushing. "Like, is there some reason you're, like, in a closet, in your underwear?

Velma's eyes widened, just realizing now she was only wearing a shirt and panties. She hadn't given any thought to what she was wearing when she left her room. "I couldn't sleep," she began. "So I-"

"Decided to look for clues?" Shaggy finished, crossing his arms.

"Yeah." She admitted sheepishly. "What are you doing here?"

"Heard someone walking around, so I, like, decided to check it out. Did you find anything?"

"An obituary and an autopsy report, but pieces are missing. Like the paper's been ripped. I'm not sure what to make of it."

Shaggy glanced down at his phone and turned it to show Velma. "It's almost 4. Maybe we could make something of it in the morning?" He smiled gently.

Velma smiled in agreement, but only for a moment. Shaggy had turned, heading back to his room when she called out to him. He looked back at her.

"Please let me apologize." She was struggling with her words. "Look, does my completely unattractive appearance make up somewhat for this morning?"

Shaggy did have a slight smile on his face, until she'd gone and said that. He pulled away from her, and began walking down the hall. "I said," he spoke with an unusually low and angry voice. "I won't talk about it."

'Great,' she thought to herself. 'I don't want to talk about it, just became 'I won't talk about it. As she closed the closet door behind her, she paused for a moment, watching her friend walk away. She just didn't know how to resolve it.

The next morning there was no breakfast, which was unusual for the gang. They had gathered downstairs, presumably for a morning meal and a sit-down before the investigation began, but the Scooby gang found themselves alone. They always had a sit down breakfast, talked about their dreams, told stories. But apparently, that was out the window.

Which, for once in his life, didn't bother Shaggy at all. In fact, his body gave him no biological sign that he needed any form of nutrition. Scooby was worried, and had every right to be.

"Rhaggy," the Great Dane nuzzled his nose against his friend's leg. "Rhat's rong?"

"It's, like, nothing, Scoob." He patted his best friend on the head, and smiled the best he could. Scooby placed his head on Shaggy's lap, perking his ears up at him. Shaggy bent over, and Scooby must have appreciated this, because he gave Shaggy several licks to the face. His tail wagged briefly, until he felt his tail being stepped on. Scooby's first instinct was to yelp, and scramble up onto Shaggy's lap, causing the chair to stumble over, both friends landing on the floor with a loud thud. Through his fallen daze, Shaggy glanced over.

"There's, like, nothing there, Scoob." He attempted to calm his beloved Great Dane.

"Rut rhere ras, rhere ras!" Scooby insisted, "Rhost!" He hid his face under his paws, whimpering.

Shaggy considered this for a moment. Were they really in a true haunted house? 'If it, like, caused someone to miscarry, why wouldn't it step on Scooby's tail? Maybe there's no dude in a mask this time.' He thought to himself, scratching the dog's ears. He hoisted Scooby off his chest and sat up.

"Shag?" Came a voice to shatter the silence.

"Like, yeah Fred?"

"Everything alright?" This time it was Daphne who spoke, slightly frightened by what had just occurred.

"I think this is, like, something we should tell the others."

"What exactly happened?" Ryan questioned, pen and pad in front of him.

"What's ever in this house went after Scooby." Fred stated, arms folded across his chest.

On the floor, Scooby was still visibly shaken. Shaggy was stroking his fur, neck to tail, slowly in an attempt to calm him. "That's what, like, happened, Ryan. We were downstairs, and it, like, jumped him." Scooby shuddered as Shaggy recalled the morning's events.

"Can you be more specific?" Ryan questioned.

"Rit repped ron ry rail." Scooby whimpered, placing his head on Shaggy's lap. "Rard."

"Like, it's okay now, Scoob." Shaggy comforted.

"So the spirit will attack dogs as well as humans." Daphne concluded.

"I think it's time to set up and get ready to investigate." Ryan interrupted, grabbing a bag sitting next to him, and pulling out several mounds of wires. "We need to get a hold on this before it gets out of control."

'Right, Ryan!' Fred exclaimed. "Time to find that ghost."

For the first time since their arrival, it seemed like everyone was on the same page.

Velma was asked to help monitor the cameras. She gratefully accepted, popping off the couch with great energy, almost tripping over Shaggy and the beloved Scooby Doo. Their eyes locked for a brief second as she carefully tip-toed around the duo, tension think as fog coming off a bay.

'This is, like, getting ridiculous.' Shaggy thought to himself. 'We can't even, like, talk to each other?' Putting his awkwardness with Velma aside, he climbed off the floor, and called for Scooby to join him.

"Shaggy, Scooby, take the master bedroom." Ryan instructed.

Shaggy's eyes glowed with excitement. "Just one room? We, like, don't have to search the basement, or anything, like, creepy?"

"Ryan, if I may," Velma interjected. "This place is awful big to have everyone sit in just one room- we may need to cover more ground."

"Alright. Shaggy, Scooby, take the fifth floor. Try to communicate with the spirit."

'Like thanks, Velma. Really appreciated.' Shaggy whined mentally, rolling his eyes at Velma. In response, she placed her head in her hand, messaging her temple.

"Fred, Daphne, take the third floor."

Fred nodded, taking Daphne by the hand, exiting the parlor, and leading Daphne up the stairs. They creaked with every step, making Shaggy shake.

"Like, let's go, Scoob." Shaggy led the faithful Great Dane up the stairs.

The higher they climbed, the worse Shaggy felt. Like he was descending into total darkness. He knew damn well this was a terrible idea. But he was powerless to stop it. The further they went, the more Shaggy felt like they were being watched, like the house was closing in on them.

"Rhat rime ris rit?" Scooby complained. It had been several hours since both groups had dispatched.

"Like, it's about three am." Shaggy responded, leading the way. The duo had inspected most of the fifth floor, not enjoying one minute of it. They'd had several encounters with the thing the lurked the halls of Mrs. Berkshire's mansion. More stepping on Scooby's tail, Shaggy getting slapped in the back of the head; but yet nothing confrontational.

Scooby began to whine. It was clear to Shaggy he wanted to stop.

"Not, like, until, Ryan calls us off- Zoinks! Like, what was that?" Hearing something in the next room over topple, Shaggy dropped and effectively broke their only flashlight. "Better go check it out, Scoob." Shaggy felt his way out of the small bedroom they currently found themselves in, slinking down the hall, and into the next room, hugging the wall the whole time. He felt he way around until he found the light, but before he did, noticed that one corner of the room was incredibly blacker than the rest of the room. "L-l-like, Scooby Doo, where are you?"

"Right rere, Rhaggy." Scooby sounded, nuzzling against Shaggy's legs.

"Then, like, what's that?" He flicked on the lights, only to see the blackest corner remained just that: black. Shaggy felt Scooby burrowing between his legs as what was contained in the corner rose upwards, taking the form of a person's head and shoulders, the rest cascaded down like midnight black satin.

It make a sick gurgling sound, followed by a wet crackling, and finally a shriek so shrill it made Scooby howl.

"Run!" Shaggy screamed, snatching Scooby by the collar and bolted from the room. "Help!" he called, "Help!" It pursued them, switching lights on and off throughout the hallway. The spirit continued after them, throwing pictures off the walls, glass soaring in every direction. "Like, keep running, Scoob!" Shaggy yelled, not bearing enough courage to look back. The figure appeared once more, sending fallen glass darting through the air once more, a large shard landing in the back of Shaggy's neck. It sent him tumbling to the floor, knocking over Scooby as well.

He felt his head collide with the floor beneath, fighting to keep his eyes open.

Scooby was crying, pawing at the glass in his friend's neck.

"Like… Leave it, Scoob. The doc needs to remove it. We'll just hurt it more." Shaggy squeaked as he struggled to get up, pain surging through his body. "Just run!" As they took off again, neither of them saw the table skid into the middle of the walkway, just above the stairs.

As they rounded the corner, they collided head-on with the wooden table, which collapsed upon impact, sending them spiraling down the stairs, Shaggy smashing against each step as tumbled end over end, ripping the piece of glass in his neck loose and fell with them. Blood fell freely down his shirt as they landed on the fourth floor. "Keep going, Scooby Doo! Keep going!" Shaggy gasped as he saw the apparition appear at the top at the staircase, his eyes finally slamming shut.

"Did you hear that thud, Freddy?" Daphne gulped, grabbing the blonde's arm.

"No, Daph. What thud?"

"I heard something hit the floor above us." Daphne's voice became increasingly concerned.

"It's an old house, Daph. It kept me up half the night creaking."

Daphne stopped in her tracks, dropping Fred's arm. "Sure, nothing there."

Fred turned to face the redhead, the flashlight's beam dancing around her face. "And what do you think?"

"I think we should go check it out." Daphne turned, passing Fred, walking the direction of the stairs. "I'm going to see what hit the fourth floor."

"No- Daphne… Wait for me!" Fred scrambled down the hall and joined the ginger on the staircase, nervously checking behind him all the while.

As the couple climbed the staircase, it became apparent to them that someone or something was moaning. "Daph, what exactly is the plan if that's the ghost?"

Daphne stopped and glared. "You're the man with the plan. Start thinking."

Fred was, needless to say, speechless. He'd never been without a plan. "Well, I- um-" As they grew closer to the top of the fourth floor, each step creaked more, as if it were in pain. But they heard something else as well- a distinct moan.

"Jeepers!" Daphne cried as she climbed the last step, "It's Shaggy!"

"Hey, can you pull up the film from the fifth floor?" Velma instructed, pushing up her glasses. "I thought I just saw something."

"Sure thing." Ryan scratched his head as he pulled up the footage. "What camera, and what time frame?"

"I'd like to see all the cameras, but try the past two minutes." Velma scooted forward on her seat as the footage started to roll.

Shaggy and Scooby seemed to be running for their lives, both of them screaming as lights flickered off and on, on and off, framed pictures flew off the walls.

"Help!" Shaggy shrieked as he and Scooby darted down the hall, "Help!" Scooby began to slip behind, leaving him closer to the figure that was slinking down the hall after the duo. "Like, keep running, Scoob!" A slight burst of power allowed Scooby to somewhat catch up with Shaggy, only to be sent scattering on account that Shaggy had tumbled to the ground.

"Wait!" Velma cried out, startling Ryan. "Rewind that!"

"W-what exactly are you looking for?" He stumbled, attempting to regain his composure.

"Go back to the part right before Shaggy fell."

The tape buzzed as it rewound, Ryan clicked, telling it to halt, and allowed the tape to run once more.

"Can you zoom in?" Velma pestered. Ryan grunted in sheer annoyance, clicking several times on the screen, allowing it to zoom in on the her friend and his Great Dane. She slapped her self mentally, remembering something else she had wanted Ryan to do. "Oh, and Ryan? Could yo-"

"Slow motion? Got it." Velma could tell clearly now that Ryan was, very, very annoyed. He fiddled with the keys until the motion picture slowed down.

Shaggy was running, Scooby close on his heels. Out of the corner of the camera angle, something flew across the screen. As the duo on screen were chased in and out of the shadows, and the flying object disappeared.

Relieved that whatever she saw had vanished, Velma relaxed, sitting back slightly. She then leaned over to turn off the recording when a ghastly scream shook her from her chair. Her eyes fled back to the computer screen, only to see Shaggy lying on the floor, something lodged in his neck.

"Stop!" Velma cried out from the floor. Ryan slammed his hand onto the space bar, pausing the video. Velma pulled herself off the floor, sat down on the edge of her seat, inspecting the film closely. "What is happening to Shaggy?"

Ryan leaned in. "It appears to be-"

A sudden outburst ended their conversation. "Call an ambulance!" It was Daphne. "Call 911!"

"What?" Ryan questioned, ripping off his headphones, standing up and walking out to the living room, as the cry for help had not come from any surveillance camera. "What happened?"

"Shaggy's hurt!" Fred exclaimed, holding a limp Shaggy in his arms. Blood covered his neck, and the upper area of the back of his shirt. Fred's left hand, which was clutching Shaggy's neck, was also covered in blood. Shaggy's blood.

Daphne was already on the phone, frantic as she could possibly be. "W-w-we found my friend- he's bleeding!" A soft murmur could be heard on the other end of the phone, "We found him upstairs, covered in blood-" She continued to tell the 911 operator everything, hysterically crying all the while.

The minutes seemed long, Shaggy's wound flowing, Fred's hands clamped on his friend's neck, frantically begging for the medics to arrive. 911 kept Daphne on the line, giving them the play by play in between tears. All Velma could do was try not to cry. She held Shaggy's hand, nails digging into his palm, praying, pleading- he had to be ok.

Since when did she pray?

Shaggy's face was ashen, he hadn't woken up once. Scooby laid at his feet, switching between whimpering and growling. Shaggy looked like he was wearing some awful green-red tie dyed mess, and she wished it was. The blood was in his hair, on his face, in his beard, on Fred, on the floor… There was just so much.

Time had just about stood still when the ambulance and police arrived. Shaggy was loaded onto a stretcher and whisked away within a moment. Velma didn't say at word, she sprinted after the medics and jumped into the ambulance, leaving a distraught Fred and Daphne to handle the police.

"Keep applying pressure!"

"Is the IV in? Administer 250 milligrams of midodrine!"

Commands were being hurled around the ambulance as medics hurried to stabilize Shaggy. Velma was too frazzled to understand everything they were giving him.

Shaggy was on his side, grey face towards her. His eyes were twitching slightly, and she was grasping on to hope that he was holding on.

Shaggy could not distinguish anyone's voice. He was unaware of who anyone was, and barely understood that he was receiving treatment in the back of an ambulance. He was fighting to stay awake, fighting the pain, fighting what attacked him.

Velma's eyes were locked on him, unaware they had arrived at the hospital. She was knocked to the floor as the ambulance came to a halt and the back doors were ripped open. And then Shaggy was out of sight.

Someone had directed her to the waiting room. She paced for a moment before she gained the sense to pick up the phone to call her friends, but as she was dialing, she heard:

"Not breathing!"