- 11:00 AM: 6 DAYS EARLIER -

"I still don't believe this!"

Velma and Fred stood at the food court buffet station, piling food onto their plates – they hadn't eaten in what felt like days.

"Velma, you've said that a hundred times already," Fred sighed as he glanced around for a table. Every single one was empty – they were the only ones there. He looked down at his overflowing plate. "I'm starting to feel like Shaggy and Scooby . . ."

Velma sat across from him, momentarily forgetting about the situation with her father. "Have you heard anything yet?" she asked. "About Scooby?"

As if on cue, Fred's phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket and checked the screen. "It's Shaggy. I'll be back in a second."

Velma was about to ask him to put it on speaker, but Fred was already sprinting over to the restroom area. Velma sat there, her heart pounding, anxiety tightening her chest.

A few minutes later, Fred returned.

"What'd he say?" Velma blurted out before he even sat down.

"It was Daphne," Fred said as he rubbed his temples. "Shaggy's a wreck right now."

Velma felt a knot form in her throat. "And Scooby? Will he be okay?"

Fred exhaled. "Scoob's in surgery right now, but they haven't gotten any updates yet."

Velma's stomach dropped. She knew that wasn't a good sign. "They haven't heard anything? Anything at all?"

Fred shook his head. "Just that he's in surgery."

Velma put her head in her hands. "This is ridiculous."

Fred frowned. "Velma, I don't think it's ridiculous that Scoob's getting surgery, it's prob –

"No, Fred." Velma nearly rolled her eyes but stopped herself; Fred was terrible at catching on to things quickly. "I mean, it's ridiculous that all of this is happening. None of this makes sense! Am I just supposed to blindly believe that something supernatural is going on? That a cheating, murderous woman's curse from a hundred years ago is somehow all connected to faulty technology, missing wildlife, and whatever's happening to Scooby?"

"Nobody's saying you have to believe in it," Fred said softly. "But you have to admit that there's something strange going on here."

Velma crossed her arms and nodded reluctantly. "Yeah. I just have no idea what's causing it . . . there has to be an explanation."

"An explanation for what?"

They both jumped at the raspy voice from behind them. A thin, bony man in his late seventies began hobbling towards them from behind the kitchen doors. It must have been Barny, from Shaggy's description of him.

"Sorry to startle ya! Name's Barny!" He flashed a toothless smile.

Fred recovered from his shock and extended his hand. "Hello! We're friends of Shaggy and Scooby. And this is –

"Velma."

Barny cocked his head as he turned towards Velma. "Ah, Mr. Dinkley's daughter! Such a pleasure!" He reached out for a handshake, but Velma did not take it.

Barny laughed. "You are the exact opposite of your father, aren't you, dear?"

Velma shrank back in her seat. "Yeah, I guess."

Fred cleared his throat and turned to Barny, trying to ease the tension. "Have you experienced anything yourself, sir? I mean, at the preserve."

"Well, like I told your friend and his dog – disappearing wildlife. Technological difficulties. The staff's been leaving."

Fred gave him a sympathetic look. "I've heard. I'm so sorry most of the staff left. Isn't it just you, Ron, Mr. Dinkley, and –

"Helen," Barny sighed. "But she's been keeping to herself lately. Spends most of her time cleaning out that museum. Mr. Dinkley's been letting it go ever since . . . you know."

Fred nodded. "We haven't met her yet, but I've heard good things."

"But Dad's museum still looks dirty," Velma muttered, ignoring Fred's warning look. "How could she be –

"She tries her best!" Barny snapped, making Velma jump. "She's very old! Older than me, even!"

"I didn't mean –

"No. It's alright," Barny said, his tone still sharp. "Mr. Dinkley's staff have always been carefully selected for the job. Most of us have been here for a long time!"

Fred tried to pull the conversation back to the one at hand. "Barny, do you have any idea of what's been causing those strange events?"

Barny shook his head solemnly. "Wish I knew."

"We were told from Mr. Dinkley that there's a cur –

Fred was cut off by a sharp jab to the ribs from Velma. "Ow!"

Velma wasn't about to let Fred spread her father's theories without proof. "What do you think could be causing it, Barny?"

Barny's eyes narrowed. "Well . . . if you ask me, I think there's been a disease goin' around this place. With animals, that is."

Velma's stomach tightened. "What kind of disease?"

Barny shook his head. "No idea. But it's affecting everything. I've seen dead birds, deer missing . . . Just last night there was a raccoon that approached me by my truck. Tried to rip my arm clean off!" He pulled up his sleeve, revealing a bandage stained with dried blood.

Velma's eyes widened. "Barny, you need to have that looked at! It could be rabies!"

"Impossible! That thing was possessed! Possessed I tell you! After it bit me, it went straight into the woods on its hind legs. Just like a human!"

Fred froze. "Did you say it went into the woods?"

"Yes. Why?"

Velma grabbed Fred's arm, pulling him to his feet. "We need to go."

"Oh, yes! Uh – thanks for the food, Barny, sir! It was great!"

Barny just stood there as he watched them rush out the door. "Kids . . ."

Once outside, Velma spun to face Fred. "There's something in those woods."

Fred crossed his arms. "Yeah. And if Barny's telling the truth . . . Scooby might've been affected the same way as that raccoon."

Velma bit her lip. "I still think it may be rabies . . . and raccoons live in the woods," she muttered. "But this is for Scooby. We need to know what happened to him."

Fred nodded. "Where to next?"

Velma gestured in the direction of the museum. "Dad's library."

"Won't he ask us why we're there?"

Velma smirked. "You know my dad, Fred. I'll just ask for books about the species diversity of Crescent Hill's forests. He never turns down my craving for knowledge."