- 4:30 AM: 6 DAYS EARLIER -

Nobody spoke. Scooby was gone.

It took Fred several tries to wrestle Shaggy back inside; he'd been frantic, desperate to run into the forest and find his best friend.

Once inside, he locked himself in the bedroom. The others stood in silence, exchanging uneasy glances. Nobody knew what to do – or how to make it better.

Something had happened to Scooby.

Velma, Fred, and Daphne sat on the couch, still not speaking. The silence pressed down on them.

After a moment, Fred spoke.

"I – I think there's something supernatural going on here, gang. What happened to Scooby . . . it – it wasn't natural."

Velma shook her head. "Maybe he's sick. Sometimes animals act strange when they're not feeling well."

Daphne wiped away a tear. "He's been sick before, Velma. Something's seriously wrong, and I think it's got to be connected to Celia's curse."

"Shag and I didn't find anything either," Fred said as he ran a hand through his hair. "We didn't see any projectors or footprints or anything . . ."

Velma exhaled, placing her head in her hands. "I just feel terrible for Shaggy . . . what if we can't find Scooby?"

"We will! We have to!" Daphne cried as Fred put a hand on her shoulder.

"We'll find him," Fred said, forcing confidence into his tone. "I know we will. Scooby's tough. He'll find a way out of this."

"I hope so . . ." Velma stood and stretched her arms. "I'm going to get that box from our cabin. I don't think it's safe there."

Fred shook his head. "No. You stay here. I'll go."

"Are you sure?"

Fred glanced toward the bedroom door. "Yeah. You guys stay here in case he comes out."

The girls nodded as they followed his gaze.

Without another word, Fred stepped out into the night.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Velma and Daphne remained on the couch, overcome with exhaustion. It had been a very long night. Despite their attempts to talk with him, Shaggy remained locked in the bedroom.

"Hey, Shag . . . you wanna come out?" Velma gently rapped on the door, knowing full well he would not answer.

"Just let him be," Daphne whispered. "Let him come out on his own."

The minutes stretched on. Then, the door slowly creaked open.

Velma and Daphne turned at the sound, their stomachs dropping when they saw Shaggy standing there. His eyes were bloodshot, his face pale. He looked smaller – almost as though he'd shrunk down several inches from the events of the night.

"I – I'm sorry," Shaggy mumbled, his voice cracking. "I didn't know he would do that."

"Shaggy . . ." Daphne whispered, slowly rising to her feet. "It wasn't your fault."

"Nobody was hurt," Velma added. "And that wasn't Scooby. He's sick, Shag."

Shaggy's fists clenched at his sides. "BUT I SHOULD'VE DONE SOMETHING!"

Velma and Daphne jumped at the sudden outburst.

"I should've listened to him when he said he felt off – when he smelled something weird. I should've –

Before he could continue, Daphne stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. "It wasn't your fault."

Shaggy flinched at Daphne's touch, but didn't pull away.

"We're going to find out who's responsible for this," Velma said as she put a comforting hand on his arm. "Fred will be back with the box Dad gave us. Maybe there's something in there that can help –

"Velma, like, no offense, but I really don't care about that stupid box right now. Scooby's out there. Cold and alone. And we're just standing here."

"We'll find him! But we need a plan," Velma said, trying to reason. "He'll be okay. I promise."

Shaggy's shoulders sagged. His breathing hitched as Daphne tightened her hold on him.

"I – I just want him back," he whispered.

Velma swallowed against the lump in her throat. "I know."

They stood there in silence, unable to say anything more.

Velma turned to the window as she felt tears sting her eyes. Outside, the wind whispered through the trees. Scooby was out there somewhere. Lost, afraid, and alone. And with every passing second, time was running out.