- 4:00 PM: 6 DAYS EARLIER -

"All set?" Fred swung his backpack over his shoulder. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows through the cabin windows.

Daphne wouldn't come with them – she was still in the shower, and they both agreed she was in no state to be running around a forest at night. Shaggy was now snoring on the couch, his arm draped over the side.

"Yeah," Velma said as she pulled on her coat. Her gaze flickered to the ornate iron box on the floor. It would have to stay behind with Shaggy and Daphne. She didn't trust herself with it – knowing her luck, she'd trip and send it tumbling into some hole.

"You sure you don't want to take it?" Fred said. "I mean, I don't know if we should trust Shaggy with –

"No. It's safer here," Velma said firmly. "Better with them than with me fumbling around in the dark. You know how bad my vision is in the dark."

Fred chuckled. "Fair enough."

But Velma was worried. Not about what they might find, but who or what might find them. There could be another affected animal – one that was impacted by the thing that caused Scooby's harm.

Fred caught her expression and put a reassuring hand to her shoulder. "Hey. We'll be fine. Besides . . ." He pulled a worn baseball bat from his backpack. "We've got this."

Velma raised an eyebrow. "That won't do anything for us."

"Better than nothing," Fred said with a grin.

"I mean, I guess it did come in handy when –

"When we were fighting that Wailing Witch?" Fred cut in. "She had one hell of a swing!"

Velma shot him a look. "Let's just go."

Without another word, they stepped outside and began toward the forest of pines –unaware of what was waiting for them.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

"How long have we been walking?" Velma complained, brushing a twig off her sleeve. "It feels like it's been hours!"

She wasn't exactly the outdoorsy type. Although she didn't despise nature as much as Daphne, it still had its annoyances – particularly sweating, which wasn't her cup of tea.

"We've only been walking for thirty minutes," Fred said, glancing at his watch. He was several steps ahead, thanks to his naturally fast gait – and longer legs.

"Just wait up for me!" Velma panted, trudging through the melting snow. The evening was unusually warm for January, but Midwestern weather was anything but predictable.

When she finally caught up, she noticed Fred's expression had shifted. His eyes were narrowed, his jaw tense.

"What?" she asked.

"Do you hear anything?"

Velma paused and listened.

Silence.

"No . . .?"

"Isn't that weird?"

She hesitated. "I guess. But it's winter, Fred, there shouldn't be –

"Shouldn't we still hear something? Squirrels? Birds? The wind?"

Velma frowned. Now that she thought about it, it had been very quiet, save for their crunching footsteps in the snow. The air was still.

"Yeah . . . that is weird."

"Have you seen anything yet?" Fred asked.

"No. Just trees." She glanced over her shoulder. There was nothing but endless trees, as far as her terrible night vision could see.

Fred exhaled sharply as he switched on his flashlight. "It's getting dark. We need to pick up the pace."

Velma nodded as she flipped on her own flashlight. A cold breeze whispered through the trees as they continued forward.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

By the time another thirty minutes had passed, they still hadn't found anything.

"Okay," Fred huffed. "I haven't seen or heard a single animal this entire time. Not even footprints."

Velma slowly swept her flashlight in a wide arc. The sun was fully set now, the darkness pressing in around them.

Then – something caught her eye.

"Fred. Come over here."

Fred stepped beside her, his eyes following the beam of the flashlight.

There were tracks.

Deer tracks.

"Fred, we've got to follow these," Velma said urgently. "This is our only lead."

Fred hesitated for a moment, then gave a firm nod. "Okay. But we need to be careful."

Velma led the way, following along the tracks embedded in the muddy snow. They twisted and circled in erratic patterns, almost as though the deer had been stumbling.

"This is weird . . ." Velma muttered. "What do you think, Fred?"

"I don't know," Fred said from behind her.

Velma frowned. "This kind of looks like something Scooby would've done when he was sick . . ." Velma said, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. "I – I think this deer was sick too . . ."

As they moved further, there was a sudden thinning of trees that led to a clearing.

The clearing stretched out in a large circle. But it was the building in its center that made Velma stop cold.

"Oh . . . Oh, my God," Velma breathed.

It was a very large, tall structure. The wooden siding was cracked and rotting, collapsing inwards.

At the peak of its decomposing roof was a tall, thin cross.

She turned to Fred, her eyes wide. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

Fred just looked at her, unable to find the words.

"It's that church Dad mentioned," Velma whispered. "The Chapel of St. Augustus."

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