- 3:30 AM: 6 DAYS EARLIER -

"Do you think they'll be okay?"

Daphne and Velma remained on the sofa.

"Yes, of course, Daph," Velma said softly, setting down her empty mug. "Like I said, it was just a projection. Someone used a device to make the shadow appear on the ceiling. I'm sure Shaggy and Fred will find the source."

Daphne nodded slowly, her gaze moving to the clock on the wall. It was already 3:30 AM. She yawned. "God, we barely got much sleep."

"I know," Velma said, glancing down at Scooby, who was curled up and snoring on the rug.

Daphne shifted. "This just makes no sense . . . that thing. Do you think it could've been Celia?"

Velma exhaled, rubbing her eyes. "Daph, like I've been saying – none of this is supernatural. Maybe it's that Walter Emerson trying to get Dad out of business again . . ."

Daphne sat up straight, her light brown eyes widening. "You never told me your dad had competition!"

"I guess I didn't . . ." Velma sighed. "It's not a big deal, really. Just petty rivalry. Walter runs this tourist trap called Emerson's Emporium a few miles from here. I've never been, but Dad told me he sells fake historical artifacts from the Civil War along with even faker haunted items. A total scam artist. But I wouldn't put it past him to pull something like this . . . especially if he knows Dad's very superstitious."

Daphne frowned. "Has he done anything before? To your dad, I mean?"

Velma slowly nodded. "Yeah, but it was just stupid things. Childish pranks. Walter's a funny guy if you don't know he's a fraud. But he's snuck cockroaches into guests' food, filed fake complaints. Things like that."

Daphne gasped. "That's awful! Do you think he could be the one messing with the lights?"

"It's very possible," Velma scratched her chin. "That's exactly the kind of thing he would do . . ."

A soft rusting came from the floor. Scooby was shifting slightly in his sleep, his nose twitching.

"Hey, Scooby," Velma went to kneel beside him.

Daphne grabbed her arm. "What are you doing?"

"I want to ask him more about this 'Barny.'"

"Just wait until tomorrow. We should let him keep resting."

But Scooby was already awake, slowly lifting his head. His eyes were open, but they looked . . . off.

Velma hesitated. "Hey, Scoob," she said, stroking his head. "How'd you sleep?"

Scooby didn't answer.

Velma's stomach tightened. "Scooby?"

Nothing. He simply whined and tucked his head between his paws.

Daphne was beside her now. "Velma, something's wrong."

Velma didn't need Daphne to tell her that. Scooby's entire demeanor had changed. He was more dog-like than before, as if he didn't recognize them. Almost as though he didn't understand them.

Daphne snapped her fingers in front of his muzzle, trying to get a reaction.

"Scooby, come on!"

Velma reached out to touch his head – but the second she did, Scooby lunged.

A guttural growl emerged from his throat as he snapped at her.

Velma yelped, sliding and stumbling across the floor. Scooby never ever did that before. Her heart pounded as Daphne screamed in shock.

"Velma, are you okay?" Daphne cried as she ran to help her up.

Velma's eyes were locked on Scooby, too stunned to move. He was now standing, his body tense, muscles in the form of a predator ready to strike. His eyes were glazed – wild and animalistic.

Then he lunged again.

Daphne barely had time to shove Velma into the bedroom before Scooby could get to them. She slammed the door. A deafening BANG rang out as Scooby threw himself against it on the other side. She fumbled with the lock, her breath coming in short gasps.

There was now scratching behind the door.

Velma felt herself trembling uncontrollably. "That . . . that wasn't him."

Daphne winced at the sound of Scooby's claws slicing the wood of the door. "We have to warn the guys."

"How?"

And Daphne did the only thing she could think of.

She dashed to the small bedroom window and began banging on it. "HELP!"

But Shaggy and Fred were nowhere to be seen.

"Daph, they can't hear us! We need a plan –

There were more growls coming from behind the door along with heavier thuds – Scooby was trying to break in.

Scooby was a strong dog at the end of the day. If he wanted to, he could break down the door within minutes.

Velma turned to Daphne. "Okay, fine! We'll do it your way!"

They both took a deep breath and screamed at the top of their lungs.

"HELP!"