Sponge: I did it! I posted chapters two weeks in a row! Anyway, hope you enjoy this. Warnings: Spooky, scary images. Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Scooby Doo characters. They belong to Warner Brothers, Cartoon Network, and Hanna Barbera.

Chapter 15: The Dream

Shaggy was not dead on the butcher's table in the basement.

In fact he was alive and screaming. Or at least, gasping.

Admittedly, he'd been angry during his fight with Velma in the ensuite. Furious, even. She was being so unreasonable, so…un-Velma-like. Where was the rational, level-headed girl he'd fallen in love with? He didn't know this banshee he was arguing with. And besides, he'd told her last night that he'd wanted to fight for their relationship, but she'd broken up with him before he'd had a chance. Did she not remember? Or had she conveniently forgotten?

He'd taken a deep breath and counted to ten in his head, a trick his therapist in Chicago had taught him when he was feeling overwhelmed. It had worked – a little. He was still angry and hurt, but he felt he could respond to her without yelling.

And then she'd told him to fuck himself and stormed away.

Still seething, Shaggy had stomped around the room for a bit, muttering and cursing to himself, when he noticed the dark shape of Velma's messenger bag near the door to the ensuite bathroom. He groaned. Great, now he was going to have to find her and return the bag, and then she'd yell at him some more.

Well, better get it over with, he thought to himself. He peeked out the door into the hallway. It was intensely dark now and he paused, a bit taken aback by it. The storm outside was still raging, with thunder rumbling intermittently between lightning strikes. Shaggy glanced down the hall towards the hidden attic door, deciding that even if Velma had gone that way, he definitely didn't want to. He would search this floor thoroughly, and then take his chances downstairs before he went into the attic.

Shaggy picked up the messenger bag and was immediately taken aback by how heavy it was. What the hell was in here, bricks? He put the bag down again, and glanced once more towards the hallway. He was desperate to avoid another confrontation with Velma. So he decided not to go looking for her right away. Instead he took a seat on the dusty bed and opened the messenger bag.

He knew this was wrong. It was a violation of her privacy to look through her bag like this. But for God's sake, what was she carrying?

It turned out to be mostly books, which didn't surprise Shaggy. He found the biography of Lise Meitner that Velma had been reading at the beach the other day, as well as the creepy spellbook they'd found on Ben's nightstand.

He also saw the Book of the Dead.

As far as Shaggy knew, the story about Mai Le and the spiders had been the last one that they'd found in the book. And normally, he was all about the saying that ignorance is bliss, especially when it came to potentially haunted texts. But he was really not eager to see Velma again, and wanted to put off finding her for as long as he could. So he pulled the book out of the bag and opened it to The Red Spot.

"Like, what the…?" he murmured, confusion rippling through him. There was another story written on the opposite page. "The Dream," he read the title aloud. Then he saw the first sentence and his blood ran cold.

Velma Dinkley was a detective.

Shaggy thought his heart may have actually stopped. This story was about Velma. His friend. His former girlfriend. Her last name was even written down. He read quickly, his heart rate slowly gaining speed as he realized that the story was describing everything that had happened in the last few days. Velma being haunted at night by visions of a pale woman. Her friends searching for clues in a creepy house. And then everyone splitting up and disappearing one by one.

Shaggy had just gotten to the part where Velma discovered the mangled corpse of "the boy she loved" when he paused. Velma was the only named character in this story, but could this be a reference to him?

Like don't be ridiculous, Shaggy told himself a bit scornfully. He was desperately trying to get over Velma and didn't need any false hope, even if it was in the form of this creepy tale.

Still, he kept going back to a description of the love interest character, who was described as being "tall and lanky" with a "beatnik" vibe. Shaggy couldn't help but notice similarities. Maybe it was meant to be him.

Which begged the question…was he in danger?

No sooner had he had the thought than he heard footsteps in the hallway outside.

x.X.x

While Shaggy and Velma had been fighting in the primary suite, Fred and Daphne had made it to the attic, which was huge but empty. For as much furniture was in the rest of the house, the attic was veritably bare.

"Nothing but dust bunnies," Fred mused, shining his flashlight around the vacant space.

Daphne put her hands on her hips, frowning. She was reminded of a short story she'd read in a literature class at school, about a woman trapped in an attic who comes to believe that another woman is living behind the yellow wallpaper that decorates the space. There was no wallpaper in this attic, but it was still giving Daphne creepy Victorian vibes. "Maybe we missed something in the blueprints," she murmured. She'd kept the diagrams and stuffed them into her own purse when she and Fred had split off from Shaggy and Velma, so she pulled them out now to study them under the phone flashlight.

Fred came up beside her to look at the diagram too. Instinctively, Daphne leaned into him as they gazed at the blueprint together. "What are you looking for?" Fred asked her after a while.

Daphne sighed. "I don't know. Maybe a hidden compartment or something, like the one in the basement where we found the Book of the Dead?" She shook her head. "But it doesn't look like there's anything like that in the attic, at least according to the blueprints."

Fred knit his brows thoughtfully. "Do you have the other blueprints?"

"Yeah, why?" Daphne replied, reaching into her purse and handing them to him.

"I want to check something." He looked through the diagrams, his gaze growing more and more pensive as he studied them. Daphne couldn't help but be taken in by him. He was the most handsome man she'd ever known, and she loved how intense his face became when he was concentrating hard on something, like designs for a trap, or – in this case – studying blueprints.

Fred looked up at her suddenly, jolting Daphne out of her reverie. "Daph, have a look at this."

She peered at the diagram he held. "This is the basement, right?" She didn't need to ask – it was labeled on the bottom of the page.

Fred nodded. "Do you remember where we found the Book of the Dead?"

Daphne looked at him. "...In the basement?"

Fred chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Yes, we found it in the basement, but do you remember where?"

Daphne was nonplussed. Hadn't they just been discussing this? "It was in a hidden compartment in the wall. Ben said he'd seen it on the blueprints, that's how we knew where to look."

Fred gestured to the diagram they held. "Do you see the hidden compartment anywhere on this page?"

Daphne looked. And looked. "...No," she realized. She looked back at Fred with wide eyes. "But…there is a hidden compartment in the basement. So how did Ben know about it if he didn't see it on the blueprints?"

Fred glanced at their surroundings. "And," he continued. "How many more hidden compartments might there be in this house?"

x.X.x

Scooby and Nova were about to find out the answer to that question in a big way.

They had combed through the entire first floor and found no evidence of Ben, although they had found a lot of rooms that they hadn't seen the first time they'd visited the house. Of course, they hadn't spent much time in the house apart from the basement, and they really hadn't stayed that long. So the dogs had been surprised to discover not only normal rooms one might expect to find in a house, such as a kitchen and a living room, but dozens of others. There was a large study, a parlor, a scullery, and even a music room with a huge grand piano that looked as though it hadn't been touched in decades.

In the music room, Nova paused, her ears pricking up.

"Rhat is it?" Scooby asked – she had better hearing than he did, and she was often more attuned to her surroundings.

Nova gestured with her head to the wall beyond the piano. "I thought I heard something come from over there."

Silently, the dogs crept through the music room. They had better night vision than the humans so they didn't need flashlights, though they did tread carefully so as not to trip or crash into anything. When they arrived at the wall, Scooby sniffed the baseboard. The entire room smelled musty and dank, which didn't surprise him. What did surprise him was a fresher, newer scent, which seemed to be permeating from under the baseboard. As if it was coming behind the wall.

And the scent was human.

"Romeone's back there," Scooby whispered, eyes widening with fear.

Nova swallowed, studying the baseboard. "Two someones, from the smell of it," she agreed.

Scooby nodded. Who was behind the wall? It couldn't be Ben – it wasn't his scent. Well…actually that wasn't true. Ben's scent was there, but it was very subtle, as if he'd already come and gone a while ago. No, he wasn't behind the wall now. But he had been, once.

Nova glanced at Scooby. "Do you suppose this is another hidden compartment? Like the one we found the Book of the Dead in?"

"Rossibly," Scooby said reluctantly. He didn't want to be opening hidden compartments, even if there was someone trapped in there. But he knew it was the right thing to do. "Row did Relma ropen the rompartment in the rasement?"

Nova frowned thoughtfully. "I don't know," she admitted. "Maybe she just pushed on it?" Tentatively, she pressed her forepaw onto the baseboard of the wall…which immediately swung inward like a door.

Behind the wall was a narrow passageway that only went for about a foot before it turned abruptly to the right.

The dogs glanced at each other. Nova cleared her throat. "Well…" she began. "Shall we…?" She gestured forward.

Scooby whimpered involuntarily. He definitely did not want to go into the creepy passageway. But what if the person (or people) who were down there were in trouble? Scooby couldn't let that go.

So he took a deep breath, nodded, and followed Nova down the passage.

Nova's presence made the journey less terrifying, but Scooby still tread cautiously down the passage, especially when they approached the sharp turn. He held his breath, afraid of what they might find there.

As it turned out, it was just a dead end. But against the wall sat two familiar young men, bound and gagged, and looking extremely frightened.

Scooby and Nova recognized them at once.

It was Ethan and Gary.

x.X.x

When he'd heard the footsteps, Shaggy dove under the bed without a second thought, shoving the Book of the Dead and Velma's messenger bag under there with him. He clamped a hand over his mouth to control the volume and intensity of his breathing.

This is it, he thought wildly. The pale lady is coming to butcher me. He shut his eyes, afraid to look.

But the footsteps paused in the doorway, then continued down the hall.

Shaggy wasn't fooled. He was certain that whoever the footsteps belonged to would return any minute to attack him. He kept his breathing steady, but opened his eyes. If he shifted carefully, he could peek under the bedskirt and see the doorway.

The footsteps returned from down the hall but didn't stop back in the room. Instead, Shaggy saw a pair of legs dart by the open bedroom door and make for the stairs.

He couldn't be positive – it was dark in the house, and he'd turned off his phone flashlight when he'd hidden. But he was almost certain the person who'd run past the doorway had been Velma.

Shaggy waited for a long time, too afraid to emerge from his hiding place. What if it wasn't Velma, though? What if it was somehow a trick from the pale lady? What if this was how she lured him out of his hiding place to slaughter him?

You have like, got to calm down, Shaggy scolded himself, even as his heart was hammering in his chest. If Velma were here she'd be rolling her eyes. (Good-naturedly, Shaggy hoped). She would use logic and reasoning to assure him that he wasn't really in any danger. And he would argue that she couldn't know that for sure. And then they would bicker for a while until another member of the gang appeared, or they came face-to-face with the pale woman.

Shaggy's stomach twisted with a sudden burst of regret. He shouldn't have fought with Velma this evening. He should have told her how disgusted he'd been with Ben, how angry he was on her behalf. He might not get a chance now.

Well, he thought. Like, maybe I can find her before the pale lady finds me. He was about to come out from under the bed when he heard a sudden crash and a shout from downstairs. He ducked back down, heart pounding. It had sounded like floorboards breaking. He stayed absolutely still, fear coursing through him as he waited for another sound. It came several moments later – another crash, another scream, farther away, but much louder than before.

The screamer was definitely Velma.

Fuck. Fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck.

What was going on?

Slowly, Shaggy crawled out from under the bed and began to creep out of the room. Then he heard footsteps thudding down the stairs from the attic and into the hallway and he ducked back in. He was going to have a heart attack if this kept up. It's just Fred and Daphne, he told himself. Like, probably.

Still, he waited, trying to get his heartbeat to slow, when he became aware of voices downstairs. He strained to catch what they were saying, but they were too far away. Shaggy gulped, clutching the Book of the Dead in front of him like a shield, and forced himself to leave the bedroom.

It was darker in the hallway, probably due to the lack of windows, so even when the lightning flashed outside it didn't show up here. Still, Shaggy didn't want to pull out his phone to use the flashlight. What if it gave him away?

He crept down the stairs as slowly and lightly as he could, so his footsteps made as little noise as possible on the creaking floorboards. As he drew closer to the voices, he was able to make them out.

"He's not with you?" That was Daphne, sounding concerned, anxious.

"No!" Another voice, farther away. Shaggy's heart stuttered. It was Velma. "Why would he be with me?"

"He was with you when we split up," came Fred's voice.

Shaggy turned into the main hall and saw a large shadow at the other end, near the door to the basement.

"He's not here." Velma's voice was muffled, like she was a floor beneath him. "I'm alone."

"Rhere's Raggy?" whimpered Scooby's voice.

Relief washed over Shaggy like a wave. It was the gang at the end of the hall near the basement door. He stepped forward, the floorboard beneath his feet creaking loudly. The shadow (which Shaggy realized now was four shadows) jumped at the noise and turned abruptly. Daphne held her phone flashlight aloft, and breathed a sigh of relief when she recognized him. Scooby recognized him too and shot forward, barrelling down the hall and running into Shaggy with such force that they both fell down.

"Oof," said Shaggy from the ground.

"Shag!" Fred exclaimed as the rest of the gang ran down the hall, away from the basement door. "Where have you been? Velma's trapped in the basement – how did that happen? I thought I told you guys to check the second floor for signs of Ben."

"We did," Shaggy replied, sitting up. "I mean like, we were. But…" He shook his head, not wanting to admit to their fight. "Look, that's like, not important. You have to read this." He thrust the Book of the Dead toward the gang.

"Why?" Daphne wanted to know, helping Shaggy to his feet.

"There's a new story," Shaggy explained, holding the book out again. "It's like, about Velma."

Everyone stared at him, horrified.

"What?!" Daphne exclaimed, grabbing the book and opening it so quickly she nearly tore the pages. "When was it written?"

"Like I don't know," Shaggy sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Sometime between yesterday and now? But I only like, just discovered it."

"Does Velma know?" Fred asked, looking worried.

"I don't know," Shaggy repeated a bit irritably. "But she was telling me last night that she's been having dreams like the one described here. About a woman with a pale face and long dark hair."

Daphne looked up from the book, aghast. "The woman shows up in person at the end of this story," she murmured.

This Shaggy hadn't known. He'd never actually finished reading the tale – he'd stopped reading at the mention of the dead body, fearing it to be his own. "Like what?" he yelped, seizing the book back from Daphne. His eyes widened as he finished reading the story, taking in the description of the pale lady slowly closing in on Velma. "Zoinks," he breathed. He looked up at his friends. "And like you said she's in the basement?"

Fred nodded bleakly. "But I have a feeling it's not the pale lady down there with her."

"There's only one way to find out," Nova said, gazing down the hall at the door to the basement.

x.X.x

While all this had been happening upstairs, Velma had scuttled along the basement floor like a crab, burrowing herself deeper and deeper into the corner while the blurry figure of the pale woman crept ever closer. Velma's hands brushed along the cement floor, searching for something to defend herself with, but coming up empty.

Until her fingers met a small, familiar shape.

My glasses! She quickly picked them up and put them on, thrilled to have found them again. The basement was still dark, but she could see much more clearly now. The pale woman kept up a steady pace, but now Velma could escape. She stood up and darted along the wall, dodging cabinets and bookshelves to the best of her ability until she arrived at the basement stairs.

To her terror, she heard the pale lady quicken her pace behind her.

Frantically, Velma shoved something to the floor – a pile of books, she thought – and was satisfied to hear her pursuer trip and fall. She had just arrived at the stairs when a sudden THUD against the door at the top of the staircase caused her to stop short.

Heart pounding, she stood stock still at the bottom of the stairs, breathing heavily. Something rammed against the door again. Velma realized it was coming from the outside, and realized with a jolt of disbelief that it must be the gang trying to break the door down after all. She clambered up the stairs, making it about halfway before a sudden CRASH sounded and the door slammed open.

Velma screamed in surprise, staggering back a few steps.

But it was Fred, rushing onto the landing seemingly full of adrenaline, with Daphne, Nova, Scooby, and – to Velma's innate relief – Shaggy close behind.

"Velm!" Fred cried, grabbing her arm and pulling her up towards him in a fierce hug. "Are you all right?"

Velma nodded, unable to speak, simply blinking over Fred's shoulder at Shaggy. He's not dead, he's not dead, was the constant refrain of her beating heart. She swallowed and found her voice. "How'd you get in here? I thought you said the basement door was locked."

"Freddie kicked the door down," Daphne replied, pulling Velma away from Fred and tugging her into another embrace. "Is it wrong that I thought it was kind of hot?"

Velma laughed, feeling a bit giddy. The dogs crowded around her, resting their heads against her legs, and then she was faced with Shaggy.

She desperately, desperately wanted to throw her arms around him. But something had shifted between them since last night, and neither of them could bring themselves to show that sort of affection. All they could do was look at each other awkwardly.

"I'm glad you're okay," Shaggy said, averting his gaze.

Velma nodded. "I'm glad you're okay too."

There was an uncomfortable silence.

Then a noise at the bottom of the stairs caused them all to glance downward.

"Resus Christ," Scooby swore.

Like a weird four-limbed spider, the pale lady was crawling up the stairs on all fours, her movements jerky and frightening. It was a scary, disturbing sight.

"Fuck, let's get out of here," Fred cried, starting to usher the gang back into the main hallway.

But Velma stayed on the landing, determination coursing through her. She realized that this pale woman, whoever she was, wasn't supernatural. She could tell by the way she was dragging her left leg as she crawled up the stairs. Her ankle was broken – that was why she was crawling.

And if she could break an ankle, that meant she couldn't be a ghost, or a witch, or anything other than a real, human person.

That knowledge gave Velma courage.

"Who are you?" she shouted at the woman.

The pale lady didn't respond, just paused in her climb to blink her beady eyes at Velma.

And that was when she realized that the pale lady's face was a mask.

It was hard to say how Velma had been able to tell, especially given how dark it was on the basement stairs. Daphne still had her phone flashlight out, but it just barely illuminated the edge of the mask near the person's neck.

Whoever this was would have answers, she was positive.

With the terrified shouts of her friends behind her, Velma lunged forward, grabbed a fistful of the woman's hair, and yanked off the mask.

Sponge: Who could the pale woman be? Leave your guesses in reviews and you'll find out...soon! Next week? Perhaps.