They had decided not to inform PRS of Daphne's pregnancy. It seemed best for everyone; though Daphne was made to promise that she would limit her involvement in the exorcism. Tech duty seemed safe enough, and though Sergey had questioned her technical skills, he agreed. The priest had arrived at the house, and time was drawing ever closer towards the event that every member of Mystery Inc. was dreading.

Mrs. Berkshire had been asked to leave the home. She had argued that she should be present to fight whatever evil had destroyed her family, she finally relented and left. Velma had shivers going down her spine. No one had actually seen their client leave. She walked out the front door. She did not own a car, nor did a taxi or her daughter come to collect her. This fact alone served as a warning to the bespectacled brunette.

They were all sitting in the den they had claimed as base. Mystery Inc. on one side, PRS on the other. As it became nearly time to begin the exorcism, Scooby began to feel a distinct chill around him. He felt his heart begin to race, and his ears were constantly twitching. As his anxiety rose, he began to whimper. Shaggy sensed this, and began gently stroking Scooby's fur in a fruitless attempt to calm him.

Daphne had begun to feel nauseous. She began to play with her hair, constantly tapping her foot. It was something to do. Fred was more worried for his unborn child than their client- or supposed bad guy. He began to pray silently.

It had started storming about an hour before they were to begin. The sky had darkened, thunder shaking the foundation of the house. The lightning did nothing more than scare everyone. In the corner of the room, the priest looked down at his watch: it read midnight. Shaggy had noticed the time as well, and began praying that no one noticed. His prayer went unanswered.

"It is time."

XxxxX

They just had to be put together. Of course. Because fate hated her. Or him. It was most likely they were both hated. She was becoming increasingly agitated that she was embarrassed; taking her full focus from the task at hand.

"Perhaps we should try reading…"

It was the first time either Fred or Velma had attempted to talked to each other. They had been sectioned together during the exorcism, Velma documenting any activity while Fred read from the Bible. They had started over an hour ago, and there was complete silence. The occasional creak in the floorboards, but no conversation. Velma, out of embarrassment, Fred, half anger, half afraid to make Velma explode like she had previously with the Priest. She had her laptop open, an EMF detector, and had set up several infra-red cameras throughout the home. Her eyes were glued to the technology, not her supposed partner. Without telling anyone else, she had planted two cameras at the tech station downstairs, both focused on Daphne. One infra-red, one a night camera, both aimed at keeping her friend safe, no matter how little she participated. Velma and Fred were stationed on the fifth floor, near the room where Shaggy had been attacked several days earlier. The thought of where they were was uncomfortable to Velma, though she couldn't tell if Fred felt the same way. She hoped he felt something.

"Try it," she finally chose to speak. "There's no activity in the house at all."

Fred picked up the Bible carefully. Though the priest had blessed it, in such a high-stakes situation he was beginning to doubt its effectiveness. He ran his fingers down the spine of the book, wondering if praying would protect them. It would certainly provoke something within the house, but he was unconvinced that everyone would walk away unharmed tonight. He opened it, flipping between gospels, testaments both old and new, unsure of where to begin. He knew whatever plagued the house was completely aware of this. His hands began to sweat, anxiety began to rise, and his heart fell to the bottom of his stomach. "Heavenly Father, who art in Heaven…"

Both felt a sudden change in the room. Fred kept praying as though nothing had happened, though his facial expression told a different story. Velma switched her camera feed to Daphne downstairs, silently hoping, praying that she would remain unharmed. Praying Shaggy would be unharmed. "Hallowed by Thy name… Kingdom come, thy will be done…" Fred's heart began to race faster. He felt nauseous. "On Earth as it is in Heaven…"

The lights went out. Fred paused. He was beginning to feel lightheaded. He felt his throat cracking, it would surely be reflected in his voice. "G-give us this day, our daily bread…" Velma was sure Fred was beginning to shake. Velma wasn't sure if it was from fear for his safety, or fear of the unknown in general. "And forgive us our trespasses…"

Velma too, began to feel sick. Her hands felt as if they had completely fallen asleep, and found it nearly impossible to move. Her heart was pounding, and her head was beginning to walk down the same path. As Fred continued praying, she felt her stomach knotting. It was beginning to become physically painful… "As we forgive those who trespass against us…"

There was silence as far as they could hear. Shaggy and Scooby were preforming the same as them on the floor below them, and in the basement, PRS was with the priest. Velma prayed it worked. Nothing was happening. For once, that scared her. What if this thing was playing them? Playing with them? The concept of being some demon's plaything was enough to make her begin gagging. Sweat was beginning to bead on her forehead.

"Lead us- Velma?" Fred had stopped praying. Why had he stopped? He was giving that thing an advantage.

She felt like she was choking. "I-I'm fine. K-keep praying."

Fred began breathing heavily. "L-lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil…" He could see his breath now. The hairs lining his spine were all erect, he had never noticed them before. His head was pounding. He felt like he'd been drinking.

Velma's every-growing anxiety was blossoming into anger. Why was Fred praying? It wouldn't save them, she knew that… Her feet were falling asleep. Trapped. Trapped like a rat in a cage. "Yours, the kingdom, the glory…." Her heart was in her throat. She felt a though she was going to cough it out onto the floor. "Forever and ever…"

Her face was burning…

"Amen." She felt the word slip out of her mouth.

Fred closed the Bible, and looked over to his teammate and friend. Her body was contorted, her countenance donning sheer pain.

"Velma?" She opened her eyes. She felt warmth encase her body, her muscles relaxing, limbs untwisting… "Velma, what happened?" She could only gaze at him.

He backed up a few paces, Bible still clutched in his hands. He felt a sense of relief, but knew the night was far from over. Slowly, Velma hoisted herself off the floor, knees trembling. Breathing became easier, pain subsided. She was drained. She wanted to cry. She felt the need to break.

They stared at each other, just breathing.

Velma chose to seek refuge on the bed in the room, each breath she took even more reassuring than the last. "Again." He looked at her, puzzled. "We need… To do it again."

Fred stared at her with wide eyes, mouth slightly agape.

"Fred, it's working. Whatever this is, we're really pissing it off."

XxxxX

They had been roaming between rooms. It wasn't part of the original game plan, but it was never prohibited either. He felt a heaviness in his chest, accompanied by a deep sense of depression. Over the two hours they had been patrolling the fourth floor, conversation had been kept to a minimum. There was the occasional warning of "watch your step", but anxiety had sewn their mouths shut. Scooby followed behind him at a close distance, tail low, steps slow and steady.

"Why don't we like, see what's in this room?" Shaggy pushed open the door, allowing Scooby the opportunity to enter first. The Great Dane looked upwards, and hesitantly entered. In any other haunted house, Shaggy would have simply held the door for his best friend. This was different. Much different. Despite there being no windows, or holes in the wall, there was a distinct cold breeze in the room. Holding up his flashlight, Shaggy found that the room was rather small. The internal structure of the house was exposed, old rotting beams and newspapers glared down at him from the rafters. Shining the light around, he could see boxes. They looked to be made of cardboard, though fairly old. In the background he could hear Scooby sniffing around, and decided to inspect his discoveries further. Upon closer inspection of the room he found a floorboard had been removed, and cautiously shone the light into it, half afraid of what he would find. He kneeled down next to it, hoping he wouldn't regret it. What he found certainly didn't scare him, not outright at least. He did, however, feel his anxiety heighten.

The floor was filled with a random assortment of things. Several shoes, all mismatched, different sizes, even one women's heel, he carefully picked up a few, placing them on the floor around him. Beneath the shoes he found an old baseball cap, which at once, from what he could tell, was a hunter green. Years of dust and abandonment had eaten at the fabric, the inner part of the visor was exposed, threads ripped out from the corners, heaped together in a tangled mess. On the front of the hat was an embroidered insignia, which had also been eaten at with neglect. He gently blew on it, effectively removing any dust. Shaggy could tell that the logo had once been red, with white bordering. Bugs had made several meals out of it, holes in the lettering, with free-flying threads visible. He could just barely make out the words: Ohi araorma.

"Like, Ohio Paranormal." His heart began to beat faster. He continued on digging, a cold spot forming in the pit of his stomach. Without looking, he plunged his hand down to the very bottom of the compartment. He felt something cold, and very oddly shaped, without looking at it, he couldn't tell what it was. It seemed to have a hole, and he was able to stick a finger through it to bring it to the surface.

A gold wedding ring.

It wasn't particularly old, ten, twenty years at the latest. It was quite badly scratched, though Shaggy could still vaguely see his reflection in it. He suddenly felt sick to his stomach. This hole in the floor meant one thing: This was real. This was all actually happening. There was no one wearing a costume, a disguise or a mask. He was dealing with the very thing, that for his entire life, he had been told hadn't existed. How many times had his mother told him there was no such thing as ghosts or monsters? His father? Maggie? Velma? They had all been wrong.

All of them. Is it okay to panic now?

He dropped the ring back into the hole, wrestling himself off the ground. He shone the flashlight around the room, only to relieve his fears, and found Scooby at his feet. He jumped back, frightened.

"Like, Scooby Doo, what's wrong with you?!" His voice came harsher than he intended.

"Ruh, rothing, Ri rhrink." The Great Dane's tail was wagging as much as he could. Shaggy could tell he was practically petrified.

"You, like, scared me half to death." He took his phone out of his pocket, it was nearly 4:30 in the morning. This exorcism had to be over soon, didn't it? He motioned for Scooby to follow him. With great caution they made their way down the corridor. It seemed to linger forever, and Shaggy had to wonder just how many rooms could be on one floor. It may have been him, but they didn't appear to be getting any closer to the landing of the stairs. Shaggy had noticed that Scooby was beginning to breathe more heavily, and was starting to walk faster, pulling ahead of him. He also quickened his pace to keep up with the dog. Was there something Scooby sensed that he didn't? He thought it was best not to say anything just yet. His head was pounding, a sort of pain he had never experienced before. Was it noticeable? To Scooby? To whatever they were after? Or rather, whatever was after them.

Was he hearing footsteps? Or was it his head again?

Whatever it was, Scooby had taken notice.

They were drawing nearer now, Shaggy could see the banister on the staircase. He felt a third beat in his chest, relief.

There were the footsteps again. They had to be real. They were faster now; they sounded panicked. He was becoming even more alarmed than he had been.

He nearly tripped over Scooby. There was Velma, standing at the stop of the stairs. She was covered with blood.

"I-it's D-Daphne…" She choked.