- ONE WEEK EARLIER -

"Shag, can you come over here and help me with this?" Fred Jones panted as he started to secure the luggage onto the top of the Mystery Machine.

The gang was headed for a "staycation" getaway at the Crescent Hill Forest and Historic Preserve for the weekend; Velma's father (the manager of the preserve) offered for them to camp out there for the rest of their winter break.

"Sure, Fred," Shaggy said, grabbing Daphne's rather heavy suitcase. He assumed it was full of hair supplies and about twenty pounds of clothes. "God, Daphne, like what did you put in this?"

"Just the essentials."

"Really? Because it sure feels like you put a whole boulder in it."

Shaggy stumbled as he handed it to Fred. Scooby giggled. "Besides, Daph, we're only gonna be there for a week."

"Yeah, yeah," Daphne said, grinning as she rolled her eyes.

"It was so nice of your dad to let us stay at the preserve, Velma," Fred said, looking over to Velma, who had her nose in one of her many history textbooks. She was taking a history class over break, which was typical for Velma; she never stopped learning. "I mean, it's so cool! Plus, it's just an hour outside of town!"

"Of course! Dad was really wanting to have us come and visit for a long time! Now that we're finally off school, we've got the chance! There are fascinating new artifacts in the museum as well, including some old items from the Civil War!"

"Don't forget how the sightseeing will be wonderful!" Daphne beamed. She'd seen promotional photos of the preserve that Velma had showed her. She couldn't wait to see the vast array of evergreen trees among heaps of snow.

"Well, like, as long as there's food, Scoob and I will be perfectly happy! Right, buddy?" Shaggy said, patting his dog's head.

"Reah!" Scooby nodded eagerly, his stomach rumbling at the thought of a wintry breakfast of pancakes and bacon.

Fred secured the final strap of the luggage and headed to the driver's seat. He looked up to the sky to see a potential brooding snowfall. "Alright, gang, let's get going!"

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Although the drive to Crescent Hill was supposed to take an hour, it was beginning to take two. Fred struggled to drive along the icy roads as the snowstorm began to pick up.

"Boy, was this a great day to head out here," he mumbled sarcastically as the van skidded along the road. "And it's just great to use Shaggy as our navigator."

"Like, sorry, Fred," Shaggy said, his eyes darting back and forth across the map. He was holding it upside down. "This thing is like a giant maze."

"Oh, give me that," Velma snatched the map from Shaggy's hands. "Here, Fred, just take a left turn there."

"Here?"

"No. There. Right there!" Velma cried as Fred swerved just in time to make the turn. The van's tires made a painful SCREECH.

"God, isn't it just great when someone doesn't know how to follow directions?" Velma glared at Shaggy, who was smiling sheepishly.

"Like . . . Sorry."

Daphne and Scooby were in the back of the van, giggling. Fred would have laughed too, had there not been the danger of the van veering off the road. Daphne screamed.

"FRED, LOOK OUT!"

But it was too late; the van rolled over a patch of black ice. Their screams rang through the van as it careened onto the side of the road, right into a patch of thick snow.

Nobody said anything as the engine sputtered. Smoke began to trickle from the hood of the van.

Daphne broke the silence, untangling herself from Scooby. She cautiously pointed to the big sign in front of them.

"Well . . . At least we're here – look!"

And there it was, the sign for the Crescent Hills Preserve. There was a bronze statue of a soldier in a Civil War uniform standing beside it, saluting to the army of surrounding trees.

Fred's mouth gaped at the uncanny coincidence of their arrival.

"Well, I guess we got lucky," Velma smirked, patting Fred on the shoulder. "Nice going, Jones."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

- PRESENT TIME -

As Shaggy drove back from Daphne's, he felt a pang in his chest as he remembered that day.

Then, he made a sudden realization.

He was an imposter.

An imposter in Fred's place.

This was Fred's seat in the van. His place in which Shaggy was sitting. His wheel Shaggy was holding. His seatbelt Shaggy was wearing. He was the driver, not Shaggy. Shaggy knew he wasn't supposed to be there. He didn't have a right to.

It's okay, Shaggy, you've just got a few more minutes left until you get home. Stop thinking about it . . . Stop it . . .

Shaggy tried to push the thoughts down, only for them to come back up again and again.

But his thoughts were immediately interrupted when his phone lit up from the passenger seat.

It was a text from Velma:

Come back. Right now.