Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Run for it, Scoob!”

With a roar of sheer anger, the red monster reached a hand out for the Chest. Scooby dropped it just as a blast of fire impacted where he’d been standing. The Chest didn’t burn. Flim-Flam snatched it back at the last second.

“I got it Vince!” Flim-Flam shouted. The wind picked up, blowing the snow that layered the ground around the monastery up and into the air.

Vincent Van Ghoul took a deep breath. Focus, he reminded himself. You must focus. He swept his arm around and brought it to the ground. The snow returned to where it’d been.

Flim-Flam stopped and looked at the warlock. “Vince?”

Vincent was breathing hard. “Ready the chest,” he managed to get out.

Flim-Flam set the box down and Scrappy appeared to help pull the lid open.

“It’s really stuck on there,” Scrappy grumbled as they pulled the box open.

This was what Vincent had been afraid of. Asmodeus’ magic was working against all of them, including the Chest itself. Daphne ran over to help the two youngest members of the group. Together, they were able to force the lid to creak open.

And then Asmodeus struck again. Vincent saw it coming. He raced forward, trying to use his emerald pendant to deflect the worst of the blast.

The moment Asmodeus’ red eyes met his, he felt his magic drain away, and with a final cry of rage, Asmodeus’ blow landed. He struck the ground, and fire leaped out in a circle around them.

“Like, zoinks!” Shaggy was saying. But no one noticed. Asmodeus was speaking.

“You dare defy me? You’ll never win. I’ll make sure of that.”

And then they were all falling. Through the snow, through the Earth, falling...

California, USA

Two Years Later

Fred Jones knocked on the window of the office, and when Daphne looked up from her writing, waved at her. She smiled and motioned him inside. “Fred, what brings you out here?”

“I had a movie deal to sign off on,” Fred said, pleased with himself. “The 31st Spirit is being made into a movie! I delivered the script for the movie today, and we signed the last of the paperwork! I'm creative consultant while they film.”

“That’s so exciting!” Daphne said. “Congratulations!”

He grinned at her. “Are you busy? I thought maybe we could grab a bite.”

“Let me finish this and we’ll grab lunch, my treat!” Daphne told him,

“You don't have to to do that.” Fred protested.

“I want to. It’s a celebration. So don’t argue.”

Fred grinned again. “Alright.” He sat quietly as Daphne made some more notes on the papers in front of her. Finally she shoved them away.

“There. The rest of it will keep. Let’s go.”

They walked out of the office of Challenger magazine and down the street to a deli. Over sandwiches, they caught up on what happened since their last get-together at Moonscar Mansion.

It wasn’t until the end of the meal that Fred brought something up that he’d noticed when he first arrived. “Listen, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but, what’s with the jewelry? I always took you for someone who, I don’t know, you’d like fancier stuff. The necklace is pretty plain.”

“The earrings are pretty plain, too,” Daphne noted wryly as she touched the emerald pendant on a chain around her neck. The simple emerald studs in her ears matched the stone in the pendant. “I just...I saw it after we got back from Moonscar Mansion and I liked it. Sort of.”

“How can you sort of like it?”

“It...reminds me of something. It makes me feel like I’ve forgotten something important. Someone told me once that Emeralds were stones of compassion that connect to the heart. But I can’t remember who that was,” Daphne told him.

“Well, it’s true that Emeralds are said to be connected to the Heart Chakra,” Fred offered. “I looked that up for one of my books.”

“I just wish I could remember. I’ve forgotten something important Fred. I know it. But I can’t remember what it is.”

“It’ll come back to you,” Fred offered. “Give it some time.”

Daphne touched the pendant again. “I guess I was hoping these would help me remember too.”

Tibet

Doing the right thing was not always a comfort.

Vincent Van Ghoul had told himself over and over again that this was the right thing to do. Letting the kids, as he thought of them, go, was the right thing to do.

Asmodeus was too dangerous for them to face, and he couldn’t be responsible for them. He remembered quite well what had happened the first time he had faced Asmodeus, and what it had cost then.

Still, though. It wasn’t quite the same without them around to interrupt and be underfoot and though he had at times hated it while they had been here, now that they were gone he found himself missing it. When you were immortal, you had to be used to being alone. He told himself it was good to practice this now.

“I don’t even believe that,” he said, and his voice sounded strangely different in the empty room. Apart from the crackle of logs in the fireplace, there was no other sound. He wrapped his hands around his cup of tea and looked at the fire.

How was it possible to miss people who drove you crazy half the time? How was it possible that he had become so used to keeping an eye on those kids, keeping them out of trouble, keeping them back from the worst magic the 13 ghosts could conjure? Listening in through his crystal ball, ready to teleport in if he was needed.

Sentiment, he decided, was a terrible thing. And it wasn’t like he’d known them that long. How could their absence make this big of a void in him?

Even without the 13 ghosts as a factor, he would outlive them all, assuming Asmodeus didn’t come back. It was better this way. He couldn’t even find them now, with Asmodeus’s open interference with his magic and the disappearance of the crystal ball he’d given the Gang to take with them.

“Feeling sorry for yourself, are we?” The voice of Asmodeus echoed through the room. Vincent frowned. This shouldn’t happen. His protection spell around his castle should keep any intruders out completely.

His magic was misfiring again. This was the problem with finding out that your ancestor was a corrupted demon king.

“Give up,” Asmodeus ordered. “Hand over the chest. Surrender. Give yourself to me, and together, we can rule the planet.”

“I took on oath that I would never use my power for evil like you did,” Vincent snarled.

Asmodeus made a sound like clicking his tongue. “And how do you plan to stop me? With your magic? I’d like to see that.”

It seemed to him that he could almost see the eyes of Asmodeus, glaring from the dark in the corner of the room. It wasn’t possible. He would know if the spell of protection around his castle was broken. With sudden fury he sent a blast of light magic as hard as he could in the direction of the eyes. The blast hit the wall in an explosion of light, and as it did, he could see that nothing was there.

Vincent leaned back in his chair, one hand over his eyes. A new light attracted his attention, and he pulled his hand away and looked at the table.

His crystal ball was glowing. With a sudden thrill, he picked it up. Here was a new clue.

Southwestern United States

“I tell you Scoob, next time Daphne invites us to come to a get-together for the Gang, remind me to say no,” Shaggy said as he and Scooby sped down Witches Way back toward Miss Grimwood’s Finishing School. “I thought Revolta was bad. But Zombies?”

“Rhyeah, no thank you,” Scooby agreed.

“I never thought I’d be so happy to go back to work,” Shaggy went on. They were coming into town now. “I wonder, hey, it’s Scrappy.” Shaggy hit the brakes and the red van came to a halt. He rolled down the passenger’s side window. “Scrappy!”

“Hi Shaggy! Uncle Scooby!” The puppy said cheerfully. “You're back so soon! How was vacation?”

“Rit was rokay,” Scooby said as he opened the door for his nephew.

“Did you solve any mysteries? Splat any spooks?” Scrappy asked as he hoisted up the box he had with him and hopped into the back of the vehicle.

“Like Scrappy my friend that is a very long story,” Shaggy said as he started driving again. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, I was talking to that mystic there to see if she could shed any light on this,” Scrappy patted the box as Shaggy slowed for the drive through town. “I was hoping it could be fixed, but she told me she couldn’t do that.”

“Is that that half a crystal ball you’ve been carrying around?” Shaggy asked. “Why don’t you throw it away? It’s garbage.”

“Ryeah, rit’s trash, Scrappy,” Scooby added. “You’ve been carrying rit raround for a rlong time.”

“And been afraid to let it out of your sight the whole time, too.” Shaggy added.

“I just feel like it’s something important. I feel like I'm forgetting something and it was really serious,” Scrappy said. “If you’ll let me out up here, that’d be great. Miss Grimwood asked me to pick up a few things for the school.”

“Rwe’ll come rwith you,” Scooby said.

“Really? That’s great Uncle Scooby. I’ve got the list right here!”

When the doorbell screamed, Miss Grimwood was surprised. “Now, that can’t be Scrappy,” she mused as she set her teacup down and wandered out to answer it, Matches trailing along behind her. “He would have gone around to the back with the packages. And it’s too early for any of the girls to be back yet. Calloway is on break too,” she continued. “I suppose we’re in for a surprise, Matches!”

She pulled the door open, and took in the tall man standing there in evening suit and cape. “Vincent Van Ghoul! As I die and decay! Come in! What brings you by on a perfectly wretched day like this?

“I’m here looking for some old acquaintances. May I come in?”

“Of course. The parlor is right this way. Follow me.” When they were seated, she asked, “may I offer you some Toadstool Tea?”

“That would be nice.” Vincent pulled out a crystal ball. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all. Make yourself at home.”

“Thank you,” Vincent set the ball on the table. “I’d like to keep an eye on a few things while we talk.”

After she had poured the tea, Miss Grimwood asking, “who are you looking for?”

“I’m looking for a man called Shaggy and a dog named Scooby Doo.”

“Oh, our gym teachers! Today is the end of school break. I expect them back any minute now. I hope this isn’t serious, Vincent. You’ve got that look that says something’s eating you, and not in a good way.”

“There’s a very serious matter that need attention. I’m afraid I’ll have to relieve you of your gym teachers, at least temporarily,” Vincent said.

“Oh,” there was a look on Miss Grimwood’s face that said that she was a bit concerned now too. “How did you know to look for them here? They’ve never mentioned you before.”

“I was afraid of that, too. They were… let’s say cursed. They...forgot that we had ever met before. Unfortunately, that’s become a problem in these late days.”

There was commotion off in the distance, and the door opened. “Miss Grimwood, we’re back!” Scrappy announced. “They didn’t have the right fungus, so I had to get the other kind you mentioned,” he stopped dead in his tracks. Scooby and Shaggy, behind him, almost crashed into him before they came to a stop too.

“What is it, Scrappy?” Shaggy asked, and then they noticed that Miss Grimwood wasn’t alone.

And then, like the break of dawn, the memory of the man sitting there came back to them.

“Oh no!” Shaggy looked ready to turn tail and run. Scooby looked like he felt the same way.

“Mr. Van Ghoul!”

Chapter Text

Like, Mr. Van Ghoul,” Scooby and Shaggy were clinging to each other now. “What brings you by?”

“The Thirteen ghosts,” Vincent replied.

“Ooh, I thought that was just a bad dream,” Shaggy groaned. Scrappy had been looking excitedly at the crystal ball on the table. He turned and scampered out of the room.

“Ri know,” Scooby moaned.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but it was no dream. You did open the chest,” at this juncture, Miss Grimwood dropped her teacup. It cracked on the floor. Vincent went on. “And you did unleash the thirteen most foul spirits out into the world. And now you have to help get them back.”

“Rwe did that already,” Scooby protested.

“You caught twelve of them,” Vincent’s tone was flat. “The thirteenth is still out there. And I’ve found him. I now require your assistance to conclude this matter.”

“Well, I’m awfully sorry Mr. Van Ghoul but we have a contract and we just can’t just leave Miss Grimwood hanging,” Shaggy said. “We’ll have to sit this one out.”

“No Shaggy,” Miss Grimwood set her cracked teacup on the table. “I’m afraid I have to object to the idea of the Thirteen Ghosts allowed to roam on the earth. You’ll have to go with Vincent and get this straightened out. I’ll keep your jobs for you and you can come back as soon as you get this problem taken care of.”

“Zoinks!”

Scrappy came back running into the room, carrying his box. “I knew it! I knew this was important!” He hopped onto the table, dragging the box with him. He shoved it up next to Vincent’s crystal ball and threw off the lid. Inside was half of a shattered crystal ball.

Vincent picked it up carefully. “Where did you find this?”

“I woke up with it next to me one day,” Scrappy sat down on the table. “I couldn’t remember what it was but I remembered that it was important! I took up to the mystic in town today to see if she could tell me what it is, but she couldn’t. She said she couldn’t fix it either.”

“That must be what I saw,” Vincent mused. “I got a reaction from my crystal earlier today and it led me here.”

“I knew it was important.” Scrappy was pleased.

“Do you have the other half?” Vincent asked.

“No. Just this part. I never saw another half anywhere and I’ve been looking since I found this one,” Scrappy told him. Scrappy took it from him and put it back in the box, then slapped the lid back on it. “Maybe we’ll find the other half while we hunt the Thirteenth Ghost!”

“Worst news ever,” Shaggy moaned.

“Don’t sweat it Shaggy!” Scrappy threw the box with the half crystal at Scooby. Scooby caught it, then Scrappy picked his uncle up and marched out the door. “We dealt with the other twelve ghosties and Revolta! We can handle this! The Thirteenth Ghost will be no match for us!”

Shaggy gulped hard and looked at Miss Grimwood. Vincent was setting his teacup on the table and tucking his crystal ball away.

“Now don’t worry about a thing Shaggy,” Miss Grimwood told him. “I’ll keep your job for you, and I’ll be discreet when I tell the girls where you went.”

Vincent stood up. “I thank you for your hospitality, Miss Grimwood.”

“Don’t be a stranger, Vincent,” Miss Grimwood called after them as they exited the room.

The red van was parked in front of the school. Miss Grimwood’s octopus butler and floating hand were unloading the last of the packages that Scrappy had been sent for.

It wasn’t until they were on the road that anyone spoke again. “So, I guess we need to go see Daphne now?” Shaggy finally offered.

Vincent, who had been sitting in the passenger’s seat, glanced at him. “You know where she is?”

“Yeah. She’s out in California, writing articles for a magazine. Hey, grab the magazine Scoob.”

Scooby rummaged around the back of the van and came out with a magazine that he offered to Vincent. “Daphne’s penname is Blanche Milford,” Shaggy said. “We can get to her office in a few hours drive.”

Scrappy hopped up between them. “Daphne’s a really good writer.”

There was more silence as Vincent read the article. “I admit that she is an excellent writer, though I must say that the subject matter isn’t exactly to my taste.” He flipped through the rest of the magazine, noting the address of the publisher.

“Mr. Van Ghoul, do you know where the other half of the crystal ball?”

“I do not, Scrappy,” Vincent replied, setting the magazine aside. “It was only good fortune that let me find you through that half crystal that you have. How did you do that?”

“I was in town one day and the wind got really bad and it blew a sign down. It was strange. The sign landed right in front of this fortune teller’s shop. I saw that she had a crystal ball and I brought her this half to see if she could fix it. She tried to do something to it today, but she couldn’t.”

Vincent mulled it over. The actions of the fortune teller must have been what alerted him. “I see.”

Scooby, in the back of the van, had notice something following them. “Rhaggy! Rhaggy!”

“Like, not now Scooby,” Shaggy said. “I’m trying to drive!”

“”Rlook!” Scooby lunged up between them and adjusted the rear view mirror so that instead of looking at the road, he was looking at the sky above the road. Flying towards them was a red-skinned monster in gray robes.

“That’s...” Shaggy voice trailed off as a name, once forgotten, came back to his mind.

“Asmodeus!” Scrappy finished.

Shaggy sped the van up, but Asmodeus kept up with them. The mirror showed Asmodeus summoning a very large fireball that he launched at them.

“Zoinks!”

“Reflect!” Just before the fireball could impact them, Vincent cast a spell to reflect the attack. He pulled his crystal ball out.

“This is why I was hoping all those other ghosts were dreams!” Shaggy moaned, trying to mind the curves in the road while not letting off the gas.

Vincent focused his power, and before Asmodeus’ next attack could impact, he teleported the van away.

Shaggy hit the brakes. They were no longer on the winding road that led away from Miss Grimwood’s School. They were on a road the led into a much larger city. The welcome sign on the side of the road announced that they were entering Rosewood, California.

“Did...did you…?”

“I did,” Vincent answered Shaggy. “I transported us to the city where Daphne’s magazine is located.”

Scrappy was looking out the back window. “No sign of the gruesome ghost. But how did he find us?”

No one answered. Shaggy and Scooby because they didn’t know, Vincent because he was pretending he hadn’t heard.

“Well, let’s find Daphne,” Shaggy sighed as he started driving again.

“We better find her before Asmodeus does,” Scrappy pointed out as he sat back down in the back of the van.

“Rwhy did you have to bring that up?” Scooby wondered.

Chapter Text

“I wonder where Flim-Flam is,” Scrappy was looking out the window of the van at the five story building that Shaggy had disappeared too. This was the office of the magazine that Daphne worked for. Shaggy had gone in to see if he could find Daphne. “Have you seen him lately, Mr. Van Ghoul?”

“Until this afternoon, Scrappy, I have seen none of you for some time now,” Vincent told him.

Shaggy came back out to the van just then.

“Rwhere’s Daphne?” Scooby asked.

“Out on assignment, but I was able to get the address,” Shaggy replied as he started the vehicle. “Let’s head on over there.”

“Daphne’s gonna be really surprised!” Scrappy said.

“You’re not kidding about that,” Shaggy replied.

Bogel and Weerd were spying. For so long, Asmodeus had been biding his time, waiting for the right moment to strike, and when he had, he had almost overwhelmed the gang of meddling kids and Van Ghoul, much to the joy of the two ghosts.

But as Asmodeus had been trying to destroy them once and for all, Van Ghoul had managed to interfere just enough. Now the meddling kids were scattered across the world, and Asmodeus had made it clear that Van Ghoul was his.

Now they were keeping an eye on the redhead. Unable to get into the Grimwood School to do any spying there – it was too risky - and having followed the Tibetan orphan around long enough to be sure that the kid didn’t have what they were looking for, she was their last chance.

The Chest of Demons was missing. No one had it. Bogel and Weerd had suggested that maybe Van Ghoul had it. With all the protection spells around his castle, there was a possibility that the warlock had simply taken it into his castle.

Asmodeus had informed them, in no uncertain terms, that that was not the case, and dispatched the two to go find the chest.

“I’m getting bored, Weerd,” Bogel complained.

“Never mind that! We gotta find that chest!” Weerd replied.

“All she’s doing is writing down what people say,” Bogel went on. It was true that Daphne was listening to a couple of man talk, and taking notes on a pad that she was holding. “We’ve been following her for months now. Maybe she doesn’t have the chest.”

“It’s got to be somewhere,” Weerd said. “Sooner or later, we’ll find it. And if we don’t...”

There was a pause as they both considered how well Asmodeus would take it if they couldn’t find the Chest.

“Weerd! Weerd! Look!” Bogel anxiously yanked on the other ghost, trying to get his attention.

“Not now!” Weerd was squinting at the writing on the redhead’s notepad. Was it possible that she had written down the location of the chest somewhere? Maybe they would have to go search her apartment again.

“Look!” Bogel turned the other ghost around, and they both looked out a nearby window. A familiar red van was parked there. They watched as the vehicle doors opened and saw who was exiting.

“Oh no!” They exclaimed in unison.

“It’s that kid and his dogs!” Bogel moaned.

“And Van Ghoul!” Weerd snarled.

“I thought Asmodeus had dealt with him!” Bogel went on.

“Let’s get out of here for now,” Weerd decided. “We’ll keep an eye on them. We’ve still got to find that Chest!”

The pair disappeared.

Daphne had found a spot away from the hustle and bustle of the studio to make additions to her notes. What had started with an interview with the director of the 31st Spirit had ended up turning into a longer interview than expected and covered several recent popular movies. It was a victory for her. She knew that her editors would be thrilled with the story, and she was already planning how to get two or three articles out of the material she had.

“Daphne!” Fred was by her side. “Lance Penderton isn’t here yet,” Lance was to star in the movie. “But they’re expecting him any minute. You want to stay and wait for him to arrive, maybe get some quotes from him when he gets here?”

“If you’re sure it won’t be a problem, Fred,” Daphne replied. She opened a tiny watch hanging around her neck, on a longer chain than the emerald pendant had. “I’ve got plenty of time and I’ve gotten lots of good material already.”

“Daphne!” Another familiar voice called, and both Fred and Daphne turned to see who was there.

“Shaggy! Scooby! And Scrappy,” Fred looked pleased. “What brings all of you here?”

“We, uh, we had an old friend drop in,” Shaggy said. It was funny, now that he thought of it, but the more time he had spent with Vincent, the more he felt everything was true, and even some of his hazy dreams were beginning to make more sense to him. They weren't dreams, they were memories, though how he could of forgotten all of this was one mystery he hadn't had time to focus on yet.

“Ryeah,” Scooby echoed. “Ran rold friend.”

“And he came to see up on some old unfinished business and we came looking for you. You, like, haven’t seem Flim-Flam lately, have you?”

Daphne was looking at Shaggy as though he had grown a second head. “I don’t know a Flim-Flam. I can’t think of any unfinished business we have. And who is this old friend?”

“You remember Mr. Van Ghoul, right?” Shaggy offered. He got a pair of blank looks in response.

“Ruh, Rhaggy,” Scooby said, glancing behind them. “Rhe’s gone.”

“Zoinks!” Shaggy looked around. “Scrappy, did you see where Mr. V went?”

“Nope. Do you think he saw something in the crystal ball and teleported off to take a look at it?” Scrappy offered.

“Rhe rwhould have told us,” Scooby protested.

Daphne and Fred looked even more confused. “Who are you talking about?” Fred asked.

“You don’t know him, but Daphne did. Does,” Shaggy turned and looked behind them. “We gotta find Mr. V.”

Vincent, meanwhile, was trying to extract himself from a case of mistaken identity. “If you would like to go to your trailer, Mr. Penderton, we can send the makeup artist right over,” the studio executive was saying.

“I have been trying to tell you for some time now that you have mistaken me for someone else,” Vincent’s tone was icy.

“I know you’re a humble man, Penderton, but you’re the star of this movie,” the producer wrapped an around Vincent’s shoulders. He didn’t seem to notice that the warlock was gritting his teeth. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Do it without me,” Vincent pulled out his crystal and transported himself away, much to the shock of the producer.

Shaggy, Scooby, and Scrappy were searching for Van Ghoul, trailed along by Fred and Daphne. The two dogs were tracking the warlock by scent. They didn’t have to look very far, as Vincent appeared in front of them.

“Like, Mr. V! We thought we lost you!”

“You didn’t,” Vincent replied.

Daphne came to a stop, looking at the man in question. Fred glanced back and forth between Vincent and Daphne.

“You...you’re….” Daphne trailed off.

Vincent crossed his arms over his chest. “Do you remember me?”

Daphne stared at him for a moment. “Vin...Vincent Van Ghoul,” she said slowly. “But how do I know you?” she paused and thought it over. “There was a chest. The Chest!” she said suddenly.

“Do you know where it is?” Vincent asked.

“Ryou don’t rhave it?” Scooby asked the warlock.

“No. It’s been missing,” Vincent admitted.

“I know where it is,” Daphne said. She looked at Fred. “I have to go.”

He nodded. “I’ll come too. You can introduce me on the way.”

“Like, are you sure this is the place?” Shaggy asked as he brought the van to a stop in front of the storage facility.

“Yes, I am,” Daphne said. She opened the door to the van and walked over to the gate to unlock it and let them in. Then she came back to the van. “Unit 3F.” She said as she closed the door of the vehicle.

Shaggy turned at the row marked three, and drove past the units until he found the one with a big bold letter ‘F’ on the door. “Like, we’re here.”

They watched in silence as Daphne unlocked the door. Fred opened opened it for them.

Shaggy looked at the wrapped bundles and boxes inside. “I don’t see it. Guess it’s not here. What a shame. Well, looks like we’ll all have to go home.”

“No. It is here,” Vincent said, walking past him into the unit.

“It sure is!” Scrappy jumped forward, digging around behind a stack of boxes and coming out with the red box with a demon head mounted on the front of it. He hefted it up and carried it to the center of the unit. “Here it is! The Demon Chest!”

Shaggy and Scooby were hugging each other again. “Looks as horrible now as it did back then!” Shaggy said.

Fred didn’t look convinced. “So this box contains thirteen ghosts.”

“No. It contains twelve of the thirteen ghosts,” Vincent corrected him. “The most foul and evil spirits to ever roam the Earth.”

“And there’s one more to catch,” Fred went on. They had explained most of it on the way over, but he wasn’t sure he believed it.

“That would be correct,” Vincent said.

“How did they get loose in the first place?” Fred asked.

“Like, it was an accident, okay?” Shaggy said, sounding a little defensive as he did.

“Ryeah! Rwe rwere tricked!” Scooby protested.

“It doesn’t matter how it got opened,” Daphne said. “We’ve got to find that thirteenth ghost.” Scrappy was lugging the Chest back out of the unit. The others trailed after him.

Fred looked at her. “Okay.” He took the chest from Scrappy. “We’ll use this as bait and set a trap for this thing-” He was cut off as Scooby and Shaggy pounced on him, knocking him to the ground. The chest went sliding away.

“You’re crazy Fred! We can’t set a trap for this thing!” Shaggy protested. "This isn't like the other monsters!"

“Ryeah! Rit’s not fake!” Scooby added. “Rit’s real!”

There was no time to say anything else. The wind changed suddenly, and the sun itself seemed to dim. A red monster, with wide wings and dressed in clothes of a bygone era, was coming towards them.

“That’s the thing that followed us here!” Scrappy exclaimed.

“Is that...” Daphne trailed off.

“Yes, that is Asmodeus,” Vincent’s voice was flat. “The thirteenth ghost.”

Chapter Text

The ghost landed, and the ground shook when he did. “Give me that chest!”

Shaggy, Scooby, and Fred were back up on their feet in an instant. The ghost started to glow with a menacing red aura that looked like fire.

“Don’t let him take the Chest!” Vincent called, but Asmodeus was already lunging toward it. Fred saw what was about to happen and dived after the box. The dust that was raised blocked everyone's view.

Asmodeus flapped his wings, once, and the dust cleared. The Chest was not there. His claws were empty. “What?!” He roared and looked around. His eyes lighted on Fred. The former leader of Mystery, Inc. got to his feet, pulling the Chest of Demons behind him as he did.

“Shaggy! Catch!” Fred threw the chest as hard as he could. Shaggy caught it and started to run. Asmodeus took to the air and came to land in front of him. The ghost king formed a monstrous fireball and threw it at Shaggy.

“Zoinks!” Shaggy cringed back as the ghost flung the fireball at him. Before it could impact, Vincent was in front of him. The warlock blocked the attack with his cape.

“Like, now would be a great time for some magic, Mr. V!” Shaggy said, trying to make sure that the sorcerer was between himself and the ghost. Because he was behind the other man, Shaggy couldn’t see the look on the warlock’s face.

“Yes, Vincent,” Asmodeus mocked. “Let’s have some magic!” He took a step towards them. “Give me that box!”

Vincent took a step back, almost walking over Shaggy as he did. "Blizarra!" A blast of blue-white magic hit the ghost, and Vincent followed it up with a spell that made the monster vanish.

“Ryou did it!” Scooby cheered. Vincent looked like he didn’t believe that it had happened. But he recovered himself.

“Asmodeus will be back. We have to go.” Vincent told them.

“Yeah! Let’s get a move on before that monster comes back!” Scrappy said. He was being held quite firmly by his uncle to keep him from trying to go after Asmodeus.

Daphne was looking at Fred. “I’m sorry. I have to go. I won’t be able to finish the write up on the movie now.”

Fred considered it, and shrugged. “You’ve got enough now to send in one article, right? I’ll hold the rest until you get back. I kind of figured that you would have to go.”

“You did? How?” Daphne asked.

Fred pointed at her necklace. “The emeralds. This Van Ghoul guy is the reason you were emeralds.”

Daphne looked at the necklace she was wearing and then cast a glance at Vincent. He was in his evening suit, but he was also wearing his emerald pendant. “You know, I think you’re right.”

“The color of the Heart Chakra. Maybe the emeralds connected to your memories, and that’s why you didn’t forget everything. Call me when you get back?” Fred asked.

“I will!” Daphne promised, and went to join the others.

Then Asmodeus landed, shaking the ground again. “Pathetic, Vincent! I think you’re losing your touch! And you, the world’s greatest warlock,” the ghost king’s voice was a taunt. “Now give me that chest.”

“Like, let’s get out of here!” Shaggy said, his voice shaking. He was still clutching the chest.

This time, Vincent didn’t bother to try and teleport Asmodeus somewhere else. In hindsight, he should have known that teleporting the ghost king somewhere else wasn’t going to work. Asmodeus’ power was too strong. Instead, this time he teleported himself and the kids away.

Asmodeus, though, lunged after them, and was able to insert himself into the teleport, and interfere with the location that Vincent was trying to take everyone. Out of the teleport, the gang and Vincent all found themselves falling towards the ground, a long way below them. Even worse, Asmodeus was still coming after them, flying down after them.

“We need to teleport again!” Scrappy said. Scooby, who was holding the little dog tightly, was hard pressed to hear him. Shaggy was still clutching the Chest of Demons. They were all in free fall. Asmodeus was gaining on them.

Shaggy was gesturing, pointing at his chest. Whatever he was trying to say was lost to the wind. He pointed at his chest again, then at Vincent, then at Daphne.

Fred seemed to guess some of what Shaggy was driving at, and turned toward Daphne. He managed to get himself adjusted so that he was close to her, and grabbed at the pendant around her throat. “The emerald! Your friend who does magic might need it!”

It wasn’t clear, with the wind whipping away his words, how much Daphne heard, but when Fred reached for her necklace and started tugging on it, she helped him snap the silver chain.

The emerald slipped out from between Fred’s fingers once it was freed, flying back up away from them. Scooby caught it out of the air. Scrappy took it from him, clutching it tightly in his paws. “Throw me, Uncle Scooby! I gotta get to Mr. Van Ghoul!”

This the Great Dane was able to hear more easily, as close as he was holding the puppy. Scooby didn’t seem thrilled by the idea, but he hurled Scrappy as hard as he could at Vincent.

Vincent saw the small dog coming at him and caught Scrappy. Aided by his magic, he was able to hear what the puppy was saying. “Mr. V! You gotta do something about this!”

The warlock said nothing. Scrappy noticed that his face had the same tense look that had been there earlier at the storage facility. Still, he held out the emerald. “Will this help?”

Vincent took the emerald, and tucked Scrappy under his arm. He clutched the emerald pendant tightly in his hand, charging it with as much magical energy that he could. Vincent turned himself in the air and flung it at Asmodeus. The ghost king impacted the gemstone, and it exploded outward in green light. Vincent seized his chance as soon as he had it. He teleported again.

This time, the gang found themselves standing back at the storage facility.

“Never thought I'd be so glad to be back on solid ground!” Shaggy said, shivering as he continued to clutch the Chest of Demons.

“Rhi know!” Scooby agreed, shaking just as much as Shaggy was.

Daphne, meanwhile, had turned to Vincent. “Mr. Van Ghoul, what happened?”

“Yeah,” Scrappy, who was still tucked under Vincent’s arm, added. “what was that all about?”

Vincent gave an irritated sigh. “Asmodeus has been interfering with my magic,” he admitted reluctantly. “He seems determined to continue the practice.” The warlock looked at the others. “We need to get out of here, before he comes back.”

“Like, works for me!” Shaggy replied, walking back towards the red van. “The sooner we can get out of here, the better.”

“Yeah, and we gotta find Flim-Flam too!” Scrappy added. Vincent let him down. The puppy marched over and picked up his uncle, before setting out for the van.

Daphne looked at Fred. “Do you need a lift back to the studio?”

“I think you’d better get going. I’ll get a cab back. Good luck,” left unsaid was Fred’s thought that they would all need it.

He watched as the red van pulled away before he pulled out his phone and placed a call to a cab.

Chapter Text

Daphne’s cell phone chiming was the first sound that broke the silence as they drove away from the storage facility. Daphne was driving. She glanced at the device briefly before handing it back to Shaggy in the back. “Check that for me?”

Shaggy opened the text. “Fred made it back to the studio. He says he’ll see you when you get back.”

“Rif we make rit back,” Scooby whimpered.

“Thanks for that thought,” Shaggy reached up between the front seats and set the phone on the console.

“Where are we going now?” Scrappy asked.

“We need to find Flim-Flam,” Vincent told him. “Do you have the broken crystal?”

Scrappy took the box containing the broken ball from one of the cabinets in the back of the van and brought it up front. “Here you go Mr. Van Ghoul!”

“Thank you Scrappy,” Vincent took the box, set it on his lap, and opened it.

Daphne took her eyes off the road briefly to glance into the box. “Where did that come from?”

Scrappy shrugged. “I don’t know. Last time we saw that evil ghostie, I don’t remember what happened but I found that half a crystal ball when I woke up.”

“Rwe told him to get rid of it,” Scooby added.

“Yeah, we didn’t know what it was and it looked like trash,” Shaggy added.

“Wouldn’t your unbroken crystal work better for whatever magic you’re trying to use?” Daphne asked.

“I have had no success with it so far,” Vincent replied. “I’m hoping to have better luck with this one. It was used the last time we faced Asmodeus. Maybe it will lead us back to Flim-Flam now.”

A village in Nepal

The ghost of a man, dressed in the clothes of a long dead era, looked down on the small village. A boy dressed in yellow was darting back into a small store. The wide storefront was made of wood and open for the public to be able to wander in an out freely. Benny, the owner, claimed that this had led to an increase in his sales.

But this did not concern the ghost. Keeping himself invisible, he drifted down and into the store, where the boy in yellow was letting himself back behind the counter.

On a shelf against the back wall was a bundle carefully wrapped. The ghost drifted over, and yanked on it as hard as he could. All these years, he thought darkly, that he had been content to not interfere and now that the wanted too, one ill-fated encounter with Asmodeus had turned all his plans upside down. But there was no help for it.

Finally the bundle gave way, and fell to the floor. He wasn’t worried about breaking the contents of the bundle. It was wrapped well enough that he didn’t think it would be an issue. Even if it did break, he would have to chance it.

The boy in yellow turned and looked annoyed. “I know I put this thing far enough back that it wouldn’t fall,” he grumbled as he went to pick it up. In the fall, part of the wrapping had slid off, revealing half of a broken crystal ball. He picked it up, unwrapped it so he could lay the wrapping out flat, and started to carefully fold the cloth over it again.

The ghost allowed himself to fade away. If Vincent couldn’t figure this one out now, there wasn’t much more he could do about the matter…

“Like, I don’t want to doubt your magic crystal Mr. Van Ghoul, but-”

“But you’re going to anyway,” Vincent cut Shaggy off.

“Are you sure this is the place?” Shaggy asked.

“Yes, I am sure this is the place,” Vincent replied as the group wound their way through the crowds in the marketplace of the village.

“It’s sure busy here! I hope we can spot Flim-Flam!” Scrappy was marching around and under people keeping a sharp eyes out for his friend.

“Rhere could rhe be?” Scooby wondered. The village hadn’t seemed that large when viewed in the crystal ball, but now that Vincent had transported them here, it was taking them longer then it seemed like it should have to find Flim-Flam.

But Vincent hadn’t been able to pinpoint Flim-Flam’s exact location, just that the other half of the crystal ball was somewhere in this village. It was a long shot, but as Daphne had noted, it was the only lead they had.

Scooby had drifted back to the end of the group, where Shaggy was. “RI’m rhunrgy, Shaggy,” Scooby complained.

“I am too pal,” Shaggy said. He stopped following the others. Scooby stopped too. “Hey, that shop over there looks like they might have food! Let’s check it out!”

“Ryeah! Ryeah!” Scooby agreed excitedly. Leaving the others to continue the search, they entered the small store.

“What can I do you for?” the dark-haired boy asked, propping his elbows on the counter.

“Flim-Flam!” Scooby and Shaggy said at the same time.

Flim-Flam looked confused. “Do I know you?”

“Like, it’s a long story,” Shaggy told him.

“Ryeah, rabout a box, rand a lot of ghosts!” Scooby added.

“But for now, what do you have in the way of food?” Shaggy asked hopefully.

Bogel and Weerd were looking down on the scene below them.

“Look, Weerd! They’re gonna find their friend!” Bogel complained. “Then the whole team of those meddling kids will be back together!”

“Not to worry, Bogel!” Weerd was grinning maliciously. “We’ve got a card left to play.” He pulled out a red gemstone, so dark red it almost looked black.

“Asmodeus’ gemstone?!”

“Yes, Asmodeus’ gemstone,” Weerd seemed pleased. “And we can use it!”

“But Asmodeus will be angry with us if we use it and we don’t get the Chest! And he said not to do anything to Van Ghoul!” Bogel pointed out.

“Well, we ignore Van Ghoul then,” whatever Asmodeus’ business with the warlock was, Weerd hadn’t looked too deeply into it. “But we can get rid of those kids. And they have the Chest with them. Asmodeus will have to accept us if we bring that chest back!”

That thought seemed to cheer Bogel up. “That’s true! So how will we do it?”

“So you’re telling me that I was helping you put thirteen of the most dangerous ghosts the world has ever seen back in a magic box that they got out of because the two of you got tricked into opening the magic box, and that we caught twelve of them, failed to catch the thirteenth, lost our memories about the event, and now this Vincent Van Ghoul guy is trying to get us all back together to catch the Thirteenth Ghost?” Flim-Flam asked. He had taken a break from helping mind the store and was sitting at a small corner table, where Shaggy and Scooby were devouring huge bowls of Dal Bhat. “I dunno. Sounds a little far-fetched to me.”

“Rit’s true!” Scooby insisted. “Rit all really rhappened! Rwe just forgot.”
“Yeah, it all felt like a dream, until Mr. Van Ghoul showed up. Had his crystal ball on the table and everything,” Shaggy added.

“Crystal ball?”

“Yeah, he never anywhere without one. We used to carry one too, back in the day,” Shaggy scraped the last of the bowl clean. “That was a good snack wasn’t it Scoob?”

“Ryeah! Ryeah!”

Shaggy turned to Flim-Flam. “Why don’t you come back with us? I’m sure Mr. V’s got some kind of magic that can bring your memories back.”

“I’m busy minding the place for Benny. He took me in. I woke up one day, outside of the village and I didn’t remember anything, and Benny gave me a job,” Flim-Flam explained.

“Rhat happened to rus, too,” Scooby said.

“Yeah, we, like, all forgot everything,” Shaggy said.

Flim-Flam was thinking about something else. “You said a crystal ball?”

“Yeah. Mr. V was always usin’ ‘em!” Shaggy said.

“You know what, I would like to meet your friends. But only meet! I’m not agreeing to go anywhere with you guys.”

“Meeting ris a good start,” Scooby said philosophically.

“And eating more, because that first bowl was only a good start,” Shaggy added.

“A good start! That bowl was huge!” Flim-Flam pointed out.

Shaggy held the bowl out to him. “Can I get some more?”

“I’ll have to charge you double,” Flim-Flam replied.

Just then the ground shook. “What was that?” Flim-Flam asked, getting to his feet as he did.

Shaggy had dropped his bowl. He and Scooby were clutching each other and shivering. “Rit’s gotta be ranother monster!” Scooby moaned.

The ground shook again, and outside, they heard the sound of screams.

The front awning of the store was ripped away, and a huge black thing in the shape of a wolf, with glowing red eyes and a tail that seemed to be burning was glaring at them.

Chapter Text

“It’s not like Uncle Scooby to just wander off like this,” Scrappy said. He was a puppy on a mission, marching down the street and looking into every shop. “They must have decided to split up and look for Flim-Flam that way!”

“Or they got lost,” Daphne said, trailing after the puppy. Vincent had stayed behind, under a tree at the edge of town, trying to use his crystal to scry for Flim-Flam. Daphne and Scrappy were retracing their steps in hopes of finding Shaggy and Scooby.

“I’m sure that they’re hard at work hunting for Flim-Flam!” Scrappy went on.

“I’m sure they’re hard at work finding something to eat,” Daphne retorted.

“They gotta be around here somewhere! Mr. Van Ghoul teleported us here, so they couldn’t have left without us,” Scrappy peeped around the door frame of another shop, taking in the inside. There was no sign of his uncle or Shaggy in it.

“For a small village, there’s a lot of places to look,” Daphne sighed.

The ground started to shake. A giant black shape bounded through the town. Daphne gaped at it. Scrappy was ready to fight. “Look at that monster! Let me at ‘em! I’ll splat ‘em!”

“Not now Scrappy! We have to find Shaggy and Scooby!” Daphne told him. “And we gotta figure out what could have caused that thing to appear.”

“Why don’t we use the crystal ball and call Mr. V?” Scrappy offered. “Maybe he can shed some light on that monster for us.”

“Good idea, Scrappy,” Daphne took off her shoulder bag and set it on the ground. She carefully pulled the half a shattered crystal ball out of her bag. “Mr. Van Ghoul? Are you there?”

“I’m here,” his image was not visible, no doubt due the fact that the crystal was shattered. “I’m sensing a great evil nearby. Where are you?”

“Still trying to find Uncle Scooby and Shaggy, Mr. V!” Scrappy reported. “No sign of ‘em yet.”

“That will never do.” Vincent was suddenly standing next to them. Daphne nearly dropped the broken crystal, but Scrappy caught it before it could hit the ground.“We have to find them before this evil presence does!”

By now villagers were running away. There was no way they could miss it. “We know where to start looking,” Daphne said, and they three of them took off running the direction everyone was fleeing from.

When the monster ripped open the front of the building, Shaggy and Scooby were instantly clinging to each other and shaking.

Flim-Flam didn’t miss a beat. “Howdy stranger! What can we do ya for? I bet I know. You’re here for some of our famous Dal Bhat. Well, you’ve come to the right place. We’ll get you set right up. Waiter!”

At this cue, Shaggy and Scooby darted away, taking their dishes with them. Scooby reappeared with a white tablecloth that he threw over the table. Dishes were tossed into place on top of it. The Great Dane disappeared into the back of the shop.

“Come in, come right in,” Flim-Flam escorted the monster, which seemed a little surprised, into the building. “Have a seat. Our chef will get you all taken care of. Waiter!”

Scooby reappeared.

“Bring our guest a drink. Water.” Flim-Flam glanced at the monster. “Make it a bowl.”

“Right awray,” Scooby disappeared into the back and reappeared with a large bowl of water that he set on the table.

“And a bowl of the house special!” Flim-Flam called after him as he vanished back into the rear of the shop

This time is was Shaggy who appeared, with a large bowl of Dal Bhat. “Like, here you are! A bowl of our finest Dal Bhat! Enjoy!”

The monster let out a loud cry.

“Zoinks!” Shaggy threw the bowl on the table, grabbed Flim-Flam, and raced out of the building, followed by Scooby. Outdoors, they collided with Daphne, Vincent, and Scrappy.

“There you are Uncle Scooby! And Flim-Flam! They found you! I knew Uncle Scooby could do it!” Scrappy cheered.

Vincent was the first to untangle himself and get back to his feet. “There’s a dark presence here,” he repeated.

“Yeah, it’s right in there if you want to see it. We’ll stay out here,” Shaggy pointed back the way he, Scooby, and Flim-Flam had come.

“As a matter of fact, I do want to see it,” Vincent replied, stalking off towards the damaged store.

Daphne, Scrappy, and Flim-Flam followed. “It ripped the place up pretty good,” Flim-Flam offered. The monster was still more interested in the bowl of food in front of it, and was busy snarfing the food down in great gulps.

“Whatever’s in that bowl won’t keep it busy for very long,” Daphne noted.

“That’s Dal Bhat, and it’s the best you’re gonna find in the village,” Flim-Flam said proudly.

“This won’t take very long,” Vincent said. “I know where this power comes from.” He strode towards the monster. As he drew closer, the monster looked up and snarled at him. “Temporal chains!” Instantly, strands of green magic held the monster in place. On the monster’s forehead was a dark stone, one that looked something between red and black. With the monster restrained, the warlock was able to reach up and take the stone away. With the stone removed, the monster shrank back down to a normal wolf. As soon as Vincent released it from the Temporal Chains, it ran away.

“Say, that’s a neat trick. Are you a magician?” Flim-Flam asked as he came back into the room, followed by Scrappy and Daphne.

“A warlock,” Vincent corrected. He crushed the red stone to powder, and brushed it off his hands. “Tell me, what do you remember about the Chest of Demons?”

Flim-Flam shrugged. “I thought I had imagined it.”

“No way!” Scrappy said. “It was nothing you imagined.” He set the broken crystal down and focused on his old friend. “It was all real.”

Flim-Flam was looking at something else: the broken crystal. “Where’d that come from?”

“We brought it with us,” Scrappy said. “I found it one morning, after our failed fight with Asmodeus.”

Flim-Flam went behind the shop counter, and returned with a package carefully wrapped. “Maybe there’s something to what you’re saying,” he said as he worked to unwind the material. When it was fully unwound, half a crystal ball was lying on it. It appeared to perfectly mach the half that Scrappy was holding. “I found this the same morning I woke up here.”

Shaggy and Scooby had crept cautiously back into the building when they saw the wolf go running out of it. “Rwe told you rit rwas real,” Scooby pointed out when he saw the other half of the crystal.

“I guess it has to be,” Flim-Flam said. He looked at he others. “So what did I miss?”

“Insolent fools!”

Bogel and Weerd were on the ground, hands over their heads, shivering. “Forgive us, o wise and mighty Ghost King,” Weerd invoked.

“You have lost the Dark Ruby that I gave you, and you lost it to Vincent Van Ghoul!” Asmodeus thundered.

“We didn’t mean it your most Exalted Wickedness,” Bogel added. “We were trying to stop those kids from finding their friend.” That they had been unsuccessful was not something that either of them felt like mentioning.

“You should have told me that you found those blasted meddlers! I could have done away with them!”

“We thought you only needed the Chest, sir,” Weerd added.

“The Chest, and the corpses of those meddlers!”

“Forgive us, most Esteemed Evilness,” Bogel was still shaking. Asmodeus glared out over the cleft of the rocks they were on. The village down below them was a zigzagged maze of buildings. “Please give us another chance,” Bogel went on.

Asmodeus’ attention turned back to them. “I will give you a simple assignment.” He enunciated the words carefully. “Bring me the Chest of Demons. And this time, if you fail me, don’t bother coming back.”

Bogel and Weerd sprang up. “We’ll get right on it, Your Rottenness,” Weerd said, but before they could get over the edge of the cliff, they hit the rocks again, hard. Asmodeus held out a hand, alight with glowing red magic.

“You may get another chance to retrieve the Chest,” Asmodeus told them. “But if you do, it won’t be now. I will take things from here.”

“Of course, Your Wickedness,” Weerd managed to get out.

“Now begone!” Asmodeus thundered. The two lesser ghosts disappeared, shaking as they did.

Asmodeus glared at the space where they had been, let out a snort, smoke rolling from his nostrils as he did. Then he opened his wings and took flight.

As the group walked back towards the van, which had been parked outside the town, they filled Flim-Flam in on what the remembered. Most of the boy’s memories about the events had come back when he met the others, just as their memories had when Vincent had appeared to them.

“And that’s everything,” Daphne finished.

“Well, how did we all forget this stuff, anyway? I haven’t thought about it in a long time.” Flim-Flam looked at Vincent. “How’d we forget everything, Vince?”

Vincent didn’t seem thrilled by the question, but he didn’t get a chance to answer or deflect it. Asmodeus chose that moment to drop out of the sky and land in front of them. “I’ll take that Chest!” He snarled.

The Gang found themselves stepping back inadvertently. Vincent pulled out his crystal ball and was ready to transport them away. As the crystal started to glow, Asmodeus lunged forward with a roar, and grabbed at the ball. He missed as Vincent stepped back, out of the way, but managed to knock the warlock’s hand just enough that the ball fell as the teleport began.

Shaggy snatched at the ball, trying to keep it from hitting the ground, at the same time Vincent reached for it, and they were all gone. Asmodeus let out an angry growl. Bogel and Weerd were hiding behind a nearby boulder.

“Don’t just sit there sniveling!” Asmodeus told them. “Go find that chest!”

“Y-yes, your Wickedness,” Bogel managed to get out, and the two ghosts disappeared.

Asmodeus watched them go, and with a growl, took to the skies to begin his own hunt.

When they landed, free of the teleport scant seconds later, Shaggy found the breath knocked out of him, as both Scooby and Scrappy had landed on top of him.

“Where are we?” he heard Daphne groan. It was then that he realized that he recognized the fireplace in front of him and the rug he was lying on.

Then he heard Miss Grimwood. She was sitting in one of the ornate chairs by a small table, holding a teacup. “It’s always the Thirteenth Ghost, isn’t it, Vincent?”

The warlock was on the floor next to Shaggy, Flim-Flam having landed half on top of him. The crystal ball he had used to teleport them rested on the rug, intact. The two halves of the broken crystal lay nearby, their fall cushioned by the rug. “Yes, I’m afraid it is,” the warlock intoned.

Miss Grimwood looked at the group, then held up the teapot. “Would anyone care for some Toadstool Tea?”

Chapter Text

Tea was important at Miss Grimwood’s. Normally, Miss Grimwood always stopped for tea in the afternoon while the Ghouls were upstairs or out in the garden. This was when she wrote letters or dealt with bills or correspondence. The Ghouls had, naturally, learned the art of tea, hosting guests, making polite conversation.

So Shaggy and Scooby supposed they should have been less surprised when what they had supposed would be a brief break for tea quickly turned into an event for the school. The Ghouls, having sensed something going on, had all turned up to try and find out what was happening and to be introduced.

“When you said you were teaching at a Ghoul School, I must have misheard you,” Daphne said, holding her steaming cup of Toadstool Tea after the introductions had been taken care of. “I thought you had said Girl’s School.”

“Yeah, that’s like, how we wound up here,” Shaggy told her. He and Scooby, with the additional help of Flim-Flam and Scrappy, were devouring slices of crab apple crumb cake. “It kinda grows on you after awhile.”

Vincent had been sipping his own cup of tea in silence. Now he spoke. “Helewise, do you still have your books on crystal balls?”

“Of course I do!” Miss Grimwood replied, and it was at this moment that Shaggy and Scooby realized that they had never heard Miss Grimwood’s first name. “They’re all up in the library.”

“You have books on how to fix a magic crystal?” Scrappy asked.

“I haven’t used them in years, but I think that I have a book up there about it,” Miss Grimwood told him.

“I should have looked there first,” Scrappy said.

“You could have looked but I don’t think it would have helped you much, Scrappy. I think that my book on the matter is in Latin. And if you don’t have any magic, you won’t be able to use the spell anyway,” Miss Grimwood told him. She looked at Vincent. “But you’ve just used magic to transport yourself here, and the day is wearing on. Why don’t you spend the night here and work on fixing the crystal in the morning?”

“Asmodeus is still out there?” Vincent suggested dryly.

“If he can track you down that quickly Vincent, you may have larger problems,” Miss Grimwood pointed out.

Vincent seemed to be considering it. While his magic would keep him going, the kids would need a chance to rest. “Oh, very well. Tomorrow, then.” He would have to put a protection spell over the house, though he was sure that Helewise had her own spells on the place.

“It’s nice of you to let us spend the night here,” Daphne said.

“Think nothing of it, my dear,” Miss Grimwood waved her words away. “I’m always glad to – Girls!” Her voice sharpened drastically. “Don’t touch that Chest!”

The Grimwood Ghouls, having drifted away from the conversation, had turned their attention to the Chest of Demons. The Chest was resting against the wall, and Phantasma had been trying to open the Chest with no luck. When their headmistress raised her voice at them, all of the ghouls backed away from it.

“We’re sorry, Miss Grimwood,” Tanis said, sounding sufficiently reprimanded.

“Why don’t you go out into the garden until it’s time for dinner?” Miss Grimwood suggested.

“Alright,” Sibella said, and the ghouls drifted towards the door of the room, Goonie grabbing Phantasma and tugging her along as they went.

Miss Grimwood set her teacup down on the table. “Shaggy, why don’t you show Flim-Flam to one of the guest rooms? And Daphne, my dear, if you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to yours.”

Vincent was already sweeping out of the room, heading deeper into the house.

“Where’s Vince going?” Flim-Flam asked once the warlock was out of earshot.

“Probably the kitchen,” Miss Grimwood said, matter-of-factly as she led the way out of the parlor. “I think he needs to relax. But follow me. I’m sure you’ll want to freshen up after your day.”

“Has it really only been one day?” Daphne asked as they followed Miss Grimwood. Out the window, they could see twilight falling.

“Rlooks like it,” Scooby said. It had been halfway through the day when Vincent had showed up the first time.

“Let’s just go take a break,” Shaggy suggested.

Shaggy and Scooby needed considerably less timer than their friends to freshen up and to get back downstairs, as they knew their way around the house. They took the back stairs down to the first floor, which brought them right out by the kitchen.

Miss Grimwood was in the doorway. “Are you sure that you don’t need anything?” Whatever Vincent said in reply, neither Shaggy nor Scooby could hear it. “You don’t have to do this. I know this is how you relax, but it’s also a lot of work.” There was another pause, apparently for Vincent to answer. “Alright then. I’m going to supervise the girls. Let me know if you need anything.” If she saw Scooby and Shaggy, Miss Grimwood made no comment about it as she walked off. The pair hurried down and into the kitchen. It smelled good in there, and they wanted to find out what was cooking.

Vincent had his cape off and hanging up on a hook on the wall. Matches was underfoot, but Vincent seemed to have no trouble with the fact, expertly maneuvering around the dragon. The warlock stopped by a cauldron that was bubbling over an open fire. He tasted the contents. "More eye of newt," he decided.

"Eye of newt coming up," Scrappy, standing on the counter, dug through one of the upper cupboards until he came out with the right jar.

“Like, need any help, Mr. V?” Shaggy offered.

“I am beset by helpers already,” Vincent noted as he poured some of the eye of newt into his palm until it looked like he had enough. Then he dumped it into the pot and handed the jar back to Scrappy. He went over the counter and started chopping up some green vegetable. Shaggy couldn’t tell exactly what it was. “But there is a chore you can do for me, if you’re interested in helping.”

“Rwe are, rwe are!” Scooby assured him.

“Very well then,” Vincent set the knife down and retrieved a large stack of dirty dishes. “You can wash these. Matches will get you as much hot water as you need,” he deposited the stack in Shaggy’s arms.

“I’m sure he will,” Shaggy managed, looking at the large stack he was now holding. “Come on Scoob. I guess we better get started. At least we know dinner’s going to be good tonight.”

“Ryeah,” Scooby agreed. Vincent didn’t bother to notice commentary, instead going back to chopping up vegetables.

Miss Grimwood met Daphne coming down the front staircase as she was getting ready to ascend. “And how are things with you, my dear?” Miss Grimwood asked.

“As well as can be expected, I suppose, given everything that’s happened so far today,” Daphne said. “Thank you for letting us stay here.”

Miss Grimwood waved her hand as though to wave the words away. “You’re more than welcome. I’m about to go supervise the girls in their assignments. Would you care to accompany me? I can hardly believe the new term is underway already!”

“Well, I don’t mean to be rude, but, I was looking for the others,” Daphne told her. Flim-Flam had been exploring the upper floors of the house when she had come down, but she hadn’t seen Shaggy or the dogs since they had gone upstairs.

“Shaggy and Scooby, are, I believe, assisting Vincent in the kitchen. At least that’s where I saw them going a few minutes ago. Scrappy has been helping Vincent locate what he needs in there. Let’s leave the cooking to the men and go check on the girls, shall we?”

“Alright,” Daphne agreed, and followed the good-natured older woman back up the stairs.

The remains of the day passed by quickly after that, with Daphne assisting in supervising the writing of reports and Miss Grimwood with the assignments in general, until it was time to eat. Miss Grimwood had looked like she was about to bubble over with excitement when they went into the dining room for dinner, something that hadn’t made any sense to Daphne until Miss Grimwood had announced that at dinner tonight the girls were going to learn how to behave at formal dinners.

Vincent, upon hearing this as he took his seat at the table, had raised an eyebrow. “Will you also be providing examples of how not to behave at formal dinners?” He had asked, casting a look at Shaggy and Scooby, who laughed nervously. The octopus butler came into the room, loaded down with bowls of soup for the first course. Everything had gone as smoothly as could be expected. Even Flim-Flam had been following along during the four courses as Miss Grimwood explained decorum in dining.

Now the sun had long since set, and the girls had gone to bed. Curfew was 10 o’clock for the older girls. Tanis was usually asleep long before then, and had to be woken up to be sent to bed, though sometimes Sibella or Godzina would take her and put her to bed when the other girls finished whatever it was they were doing, a game, or reading, or talking in the sitting room upstairs.

Shaggy, Scooby, and Scrappy followed this routine as well, a habit they had picked up from the time spent at Miss Grimwood’s and that they only violated on weekends and school holidays. Flim-Flam had followed Scrappy’s lead, and Daphne had turned in at the same time, claiming exhaustion.

Miss Grimwood was making one final walk through the house. Usually it was the responsibility of the octopus butler to lock the door, bank the fires, and make sure everything was safe for the evening. Tonight, she wanted to do it herself, and make sure that her protection spell on the house was still holding.

She checked all the doors and windows on the ground floor, Matches trailing along behind her as she did. The kitchen fire was out. The fire in the main hall was banked up for the evening. In the parlor, though, the fire was still going, and someone was still up. In the glow of light from the flames, she could make out who was there.

“You seem deep in thought,” Miss Grimwood said as she came into the room. Matches wandered around her and made himself comfortable by the fire, kicking at the rug to fluff it up to his liking before laying down. “Tonight’s dinner was excellent. I don’t think I said thank you yet.”

Vincent was looking at the fire, his hands wrapped around a rapidly cooling cup of tea. “You don’t need to.”

“Politeness dictates that I do,” Miss Grimwood said jauntily. She sat down on the chair next to Vincent’s. “What’s wrong?”

“A great many things,” he replied without looking at her.

“Which one is the biggest problem right now?”

He considered it. “I’ve had to do things that I don’t know how to explain to the kids.” It had stung more than he wanted to admit that Scooby and Shaggy had been so afraid of him this afternoon. Their memories had disappeared, so that was to be expected, but that didn’t make it any easier. Especially given the circumstances of how those memories were lost.

Miss Grimwood smiled as she interrupted his reverie. “The kids, huh?”

Vincent made a non-committal sound.

She didn’t give him a chance to explain the comment, instead pressing on. “There are eight girls in this building, none of whom are related to each other, but all of whom are sisters,” Miss Grimwood went on. “There are two types of family, as you well know, the family you have, and the family you choose. Family tends to to be understanding. Maybe you should try telling them. It’s usually the best way.”

“I’ve always hated Asmodeus,” Vincent told her. “Ever since I first understood who he was and what he did. The last time the 13 ghosts were released was an accident as well, but the cost to put them all back was so high.”

“You need to tell them that, too,” Miss Grimwood said.

“How can I?” Vincent asked. “How do I tell them that...” he trailed off. He was looking at the fire, but Miss Grimwood knew he wasn’t seeing the flames.

Miss Grimwood got to her feet. “I’m going to turn in,” she told him. “Good night.”

“Good night,” he replied absently.

The witch paused on her way out the door. “Matches, are you sleeping down here tonight?”

“Yeah,” the dragon huffed. Miss Grimwood went out of the room.

Vincent was left to stare into the dying flames, the silence of the room broken only occasionally by Matches’ snuffling as he slept.

Outside Miss Grimwood’s School, a pair of ghosts were looking down at the building with frowns on their faces.

“What are we waiting for, Weerd? The protection spell around this place has more holes in it than Swiss cheese!” Bogel said.

“What we’re waiting on is for Van Ghoul to go to bed,” Weerd said firmly. “The Chest is in the same room he’s in!”

“And that dragon looks kinda mean too,” Bogel noted.

“Never mind the dragon. It’s the warlock we’ve got to worry about,” Weerd said.

“I don’t think he’s going to be going to bed anytime soon,” Bogel said, looking down at the faint light coming through the window.

“Then we’ll wait him out! And then we’ll snatch the Chest!” Weerd announced. “We can’t fail Asmodeus now! He’ll never forgive us.”

Bogel looked at the window again, but decided not to say anything else. In his private estimation, it was going to be a long night.

Chapter Text

Bogel and Weerd were fated to be frustrated. As it turned out, Vincent did spend the night sitting up, the Chest beside his chair, and Matches at his feet. When the sun started to peer over the horizon, he rose to his feet. In a quick flourish of green magic his evening suit and cape disappeared, to be replaced by his blue mage’s robe and purple, high-collared cape, emerald pendant displayed prominently on it.

Matches stretched, yawned, and got to his feet as the octopus butler came in to pile wood up for the fire. It was starting to get cooler in the evenings and mornings. The dragon trailed the warlock out of the room and up the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, he met Daphne about to go down. “Good morning.” she told him.

“Good morning,” he replied.

“Shaggy and Scooby are teaching their morning gym class,” Daphne went on. “They said they’ll be available for whatever needs to be done once that’s finished. Do you need any help?”

“I am going to scour the library for any books that Helewise might have that will show me how to repair the broken crystal. She thinks the book is in Latin, but it’s been some time since she’s seen it, so she may be wrong about that. You’re welcome to help search for it.”

“Alright,” Daphne agreed, then paused. “We’ll have to find the library, though.”

“Yes, and it’s been a very long time since I’ve been here. I don’t remember exactly where it is. We’ll have to look,” Vincent agreed, but as he started to walk back the way Daphne had come, Matches reached out and clamped his teeth onto the edge of Vincent's robe.

The sorcerer turned just enough to look at the dragon. “Yes?”

Matches didn’t let go, instead making aggressive eye contact with the sorcerer.

“Alright. Show us what you want,” Vincent said. Matches let go of the man’s robe and headed down the hall, opposite the direction Vincent had been planning to go. Vincent and Daphne followed.

The dragon headed down the hall until he came to the door he wanted. Then he stood, scratched at the door, and sat down to look at the pair expectantly.

Vincent reached forward and opened the door, revealing the library beyond. Matches marched into the room, to a fluffy white rug in the corner, and started to scruff it up into a pile before settling down on it with a huff.

“Thank you, Matches,” Vincent said. He walked over to one of the tables and set his crystal ball up on it. “You might start looking at the books in English.”

“I’ve been wanting to ask,” Daphne said as she started looking at one of the shelves. “How did we all lose our memories? And how did we get them back?”
She looked at Vincent, but the man was feigning attention on a book. “Mr Van Ghoul?”

“It’s...” he finally closed the book, sliding it back onto the shelf. “It’s a long story. And I’m afraid I don’t have time to tell it right now.”

Daphne considered it, and decided for the present to be patient. Whatever story was there, sooner or later, they would find it out.

“What are you working on, Flim-Flam?”

Flim-Flam set a mid-sized, hinged box down in the middle of the room. “Miss Grimwood gave me this box I found upstairs. I thought we could make it over so it looked like the Chest. You never know when you might need a decoy. I thought we had one once, but I don’t know where it went.”

“That’s a great idea! And when we get it put together we can put the Vacuu-Spook 2000 inside and catch those nasty ghosties when they come for the Chest!” Scrappy said. Then he thought about it. “But maybe we’d better wait until we leave Miss Grimwood’s first before we turn it into a trap.”

“Agreed,” Flim-Flam told him. “Grab the real Chest, will you?”

Scrappy scampered out of the room and came back with the Chest of Demons held over his head. “Here it is!”

Flim-Flam considered it. “This is going to be quite a job.”

There was a cackling laugh behind them, and Phantasma came through the wall. “What are you two working on?” she asked.

“We’re gonna make this box look like that one,” Scrappy said. “It’s a trap.”

“What’s it for?”

“Evil ghost demon,” Flim-Flam said, at the same time Scrappy said, “if someone like Revolta tries to steal the Chest!” They looked at each other. Then they looked at Phantasma. “Yeah, in case someone like Revolta tries to steal the Chest,” Flim-Flam amended.

Phantasma dropped to the floor, looking at the two boxes. “You’re going to have some work to do on this!”

“Maybe Sibella could paint it for us!” Scrappy suggested, putting a hand to his chin. “I was thinking she might be able to do it, since she’s so good with sewing.”

“Ooooh, her embroidery is top-notch!” Phantasma suggested, drifting up into the air. “I’ll go find her!” she added as she drifted through the ceiling.

Flim-Flam and Scrappy watched her go, and the turned their attention back to the box. “Let’s see what we can find for handles,” Scrappy suggested.

By the time he came back with handles, all of the Ghouls were there, examining the Chest of Demons and the box Flim-Flam had found.

“What happened?” Scrappy asked, setting the handles he had found down.

Flim-Flam shrugged. “You got me. Summon one, summon all, I guess.”

Elsa was looking at the Chest. “You’re gonna need a head that looks like this for the Trap Chest,” she announced. “Come on Tanis. Let’s go see what we can do. Goonie, can you find something to use as eyes?”

“Sure,” Goonie chirped, following the others out of the room.

Sibella was looking the blank box over. “Hmm, I’ll have to mix the colors carefully to get that shade of red.”

“Check out the pattern on this thing,” Winnie muttered, kicking the Chest of Demons lightly with her foot.

Scrappy was trying to figure out to how to get the handles onto the sides of what Elsa had dubbed the Trap Chest so that they matched the placement on the Chest of Demons.

“Yes, it’s not too complicated though,” Sibella said thoughtfully. “I’ll do it. I’d like to try my hand at painting. I’ll need to find some paint, though.”

“I think I found some paint earlier in one of the room upstairs,” Flim-Flam told her.

“Oh yeah! The arts closet!” Winnie said. “I’ll show you where it is. One set of paints, coming right up Sibella!”

“Fang-tastic!” The dhaympr proclaimed. “This will be lots of fun.”

There were a lot of books in Miss Grimwood’s library, and lots of them dealt with magic.

“This is one heck of an interest,” Daphne noted, working on putting a shelf’s worth of books, written in Old English, back where they belonged.

“Helewise is a witch,” Vincent said absently, flipping through an illuminated manuscript written in Latin.

Daphne considered it. “I guess that makes a lot of sense.”

“Like, you didn’t know that?” Shaggy and Scooby had entered, just in time to hear the end of the conversation.

“No. You didn’t mention when we were on Moonscar Island that you were working for a witch,” Daphne pointed out.

“The zombies rwere renough trouble,” Scooby protested.

“Yeah, like, who cares about what Miss Grimwood is when we’ve got a bunch of zombies to deal with?” Shaggy asked.

“Fair enough,” Daphne said. “Help look through these books. We’ve got to find a spell that will repair the crystal ball.”

On his way to the bookshelves, Scooby tripped over Matches. The dragon glared at him, starting to turn red and breath smoke as he did.

“Rsorry,” Scooby giggled. Matches stopped turning red, but left the library, grumbling under his breath as he did.

“How about that mystic repair shop that fixed the crystal ball when Flim-Flam messed with it?” Shaggy suggested.

“That won’t be able to help now that the ball has broken,” Vincent told him. “That shop can only repair minor damage.”

“We’ll just have to keep looking,” Daphne said.

“You’re doing great, Sibella!” Scrappy said, watching as she painted the detailed lines on the Trap Chest.

“Fangs, Scrappy,” Sibella said. She carefully dabbed her brush on her pallet, getting more black paint on the tip of her brush. “Mm, painting is so relaxing. I think I might take it up as a hobby,” she said as she painted another line.

Elsa stomped into the room, holding a package in her hands. Tanis and Goonie followed. “We got the monster head for the front of the Trap Chest.” Goonie announced happily.

“No one will ever know the difference,” Tanis said. As she did, Phantasma popped out through the floor again, jostling Sibella’s elbow and leaving a splotch of black paint on the front of the box.

“Phanty!” Sibella protested.

“Ooow-wooooooo! Watch what you’re doing!” Winnie howled.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean it!” Phantasma protested.

“Maybe you can repaint that part?” Scrappy suggested.

“I’ll have to wait until the first layer of paint dries,” Sibella said as she set her brush and pallet down.

Flim-Flam had unwrapped the package that Elsa had come in with. “This looks pretty good. It’s gonna be hard to tell these two boxes apart."

“Thanks. Mary’s camera helped, once she took some pictures of the Magic Chest,” Elsa said.

Mary nodded, holding up her prized possession: a Polaroid camera.

“Goonie went diving in the moat to find us some nice rocks to use for the eyes,” Tanis volunteered.

“And Tanis helped with the model. She’s great at paper mache,” Elsa added.

“We’ll put it on once the chest is dry. Thanks, everyone!” Scrappy said.

“We’re happy to help!” Winnie said.

Scrappy looked at Flim-Flam. “Let’s go put the Chest back out in the other room.”

“This way they won’t get mixed up once we get this second one put together. Good idea.” When the pair had left with the Chest of Demons, Phantasma floated back down and into the Trap Chest, cackling as she did.

“Look! This one I can get into!” She laughed.

The ghouls looked uneasy. Elsa frowned. “Phanty, I don’t think you should joke about this. This all seems pretty serious. And remember what Miss Grimwood said yesterday? And Mr. Warlock warned us to stay away from the Magic Chest too.”

“Rather dry subject matter for a joke anyway,” Sibella noted.

“I’m going out to the garden,” Winnie decided. She hopped off the stool she had been sitting on. “Come on! Let’s go!” she proclaimed, and the other ghouls followed her out of the room.

Matches was napping in the main room when Flim-Flam and Scrappy came in to deposit the Chest of Demons back where it had been sitting earlier that morning.

“You think it’s safe to leave it here?” Flim-Flam asked.

“Sure. I’m sure Mr. Van Ghoul’s got a protection spell on the place by now. And Miss Grimwood keeps one on the house, too,” Scrappy replied.

Flim-Flam shrugged. “Should be safe. Listen, I know we’re not gonna make the Trap Chest into a real trap until we leave, but we’d better start thinking about how we’re going to get the Vacuu-Spook 2000 into the chest. We should set it up so that it comes on automatically when the Trap Chest is opened.”

“That’ll take some doing,” Scrappy said as they left the room, and their talk drifted away.

As soon as the last sounds of their conversation was no longer audible, Bogel and Weerd appeared in the room.

“So much for that protection spell!” Bogel cackled.

“Never mind that!” Weerd snapped. “Grab the Chest! We’ve got to get out of here before anyone comes back.”

The two ghosts hefted the Chest up and ran out of the room.

Matches, snuffling away on the rug, felt something scratching his back. He was awake in an instant, and saw a ghost standing in front of him. Not recognizing the newcomer, he seethed and started to turn red.

“Pardon me,” the ghost said. “I wouldn’t have woken you if it wasn’t important. But the Chest of Demons is being in stolen.”

Matches looked out the hall, and saw the retreating forms of the two ghosts. “I would have dealt with the matter myself, if I could,” the ghost went on. “But circumstances at present prevent me from doing so. If you would…?” He trailed off as Matches, muttering angrily under his breath, was on his feet and racing out of the room.

Chapter Text

Carrying the Chest meant that they couldn’t walk through walls, but even with that as a factor Bogel and Weerd were sure that they had made their greatest move yet in stealing the Chest right out of the house.

Until Bogel happened to look behind him and saw a very angry dragon gaining on them. “Look out Weerd! We got trouble! It’s that dragon!”

“Good thing the door is right here!” Weerd said. He flung the door open and the two ghosts went through it, closing it behind them. However, they had gone out the back door, which had Matches’ pet door installed on it. Miss Grimwood’s magic prevented anything other then Matches, and Legs on the rare occasion when he came inside, from using the door. When the back door closed, Matches didn’t even slow down; instead going straight through his pet door and chasing the ghosts.

The Ghouls were out in the garden. They had started out by working in the garden, but now work was forgotten as Tanis, Phanty, and Winnie were regaling Mary, Goonie, and Godzina with the story of what had happened with Revolta. They were still talking when Bogel and Weerd came by, holding the Chest between them, and Matches close behind and gaining on them.

“Hey, those ghosts are stealing Mr. Warlock’s Magic Chest!” Elsa noted.

“Oow-woooo! Let’s get ‘em, girls!” Winnie howled, and the Ghouls took off after the ghosts.

Now, chased by both Matches and the girls, Bogel and Weerd knew they were in trouble. “Let’s fly for it!” Bogel said. They both tried to take the air, but Matches lunged out and latched onto Bogel’s foot, dragging the ghost back down to the ground. The dragon refused to let go, in spite of Bogel's best efforts to free himself, and started to tussle with the ghost.

Weerd made sure that he didn’t drop the chest. He tried to keep flying, but a purple bat was there to harass him and keep him from going any further. Phantasma came floating up and snatched the chest away from him. “I’ll take this,” she giggled, and fled back down to the ground, with Weerd close behind her. She ducked behind Elsa and Godzina, and Weerd came a to a crashing stop against them.

“You can’t steal that Chest!” Elsa proclaimed.

“Oh yeah?” Weerd challenged. The look on his face was one that would have had Scooby and Shaggy running in seconds, but the Ghouls didn’t seem fazed.

“Yeah!” Mary said.

“Grab that ghost, Godzina!” Sibella landed, changing back from a bat as she did, and ran over to help the other girls.

The chaos outside attracted the attention of Miss Grimwood, who came out to see what the matter was. The first thing she had to do was pull Matches off of a rather beat up looking ghost, which she did by grabbing the dragon by the tail and pulling him away. Then she took in the rest of the scene.

Another ghost was nearby, tied up in what appeared to be some of Tanis’ bandages. And then there was the Chest of Demons now lying on the ground nearby. “Girls, what’s going on?”

“These two were trying to steal the Chest,” Sibella reported. She looked at Phantasma. “Do you know them?”

“Never seen them before, and I think I’d remember them,” Phantasma said before devolving into another fit of giggles.

“Mercy, please!” The fat ghost that Matches had been using as a chew toy was now cowering on the ground. Matches snapped at him, and the ghost recoiled.

Miss Grimwood frowned, still holding Matches. She didn’t like the situation, and she didn’t like the fact that the Chest of Demons seemed to be at the center of it. “Elsa, go find Mr. Van Ghoul and ask him to come here.”

“Okay,” Elsa marched off.

Miss Grimwood had many books on magic, but having searched through them all, Vincent had to admit to himself if not the others that there were no books that would help fix the crystal ball.

Shaggy and Scooby were putting the books that had already been removed and looked through back on the shelves. Daphne and Vincent had reviewed dozens and dozens of the volumes and those books were stacked all over on the tables and chairs, some even on the floor.

“There’s nothing here,” Daphne said, closing the volume that she was holding.

“That is an accurate assessment,” Vincent replied, sliding the volume that had been open on the table in front of him away.

“Rwhat now?” Scooby asked.

“I’m not sure yet,” Vincent admitted.

Before he could say anymore, there was a sound from outside the library.

Bang! Bang!

Boom! The library door hit the floor and Elsa stood there, looking sheepish.

“Rnot ragain!” Scooby complained.

“Like, Elsa, I thought we talked about doors and knocking,” Shaggy added, setting the stack of books he was holding down on a side table.

“Uh, sorry Coach,” Elsa said. She looked at Vincent. “Mr. Warlock, could you come downstairs for a minute?”

“Certainly, my dear. What’s the matter?”

“A couple of ghosts just tried to steal your Magic Chest,” Elsa reported. “We stopped ‘em in the garden. Miss Grimwood wanted me to ask you to come down.”

Vincent’s eyes had widened at the news that Chest had nearly been stolen. Without a word, he transported them all the garden.

Flim-Flam and Scrappy, having heard the racket, had come out of the house. “What’s goin’ on?” Scrappy asked.

“It’s those two,” Flim-Flam said derisively.

Weerd was tied up. Bogel was still cowering on the ground. Matches looked like if Miss Grimwood loosened her grasp on him for even a moment, he would be happy to go a second round with Bogel. Winnie was sitting on the Chest of Demons, swinging one leg idly, but there was a look on her face that said that if either ghost made a move for it, they would have to go through her to get it. Sibella, Mary, Goonie, and Godzina were standing there, waiting to see what happened next. Tanis was in Godzina’s arms, and Phantasma floated overhead.

“Vincent, I’m afraid that I need your assistance in this matter,” Miss Grimwood said. “The Ghouls tell me that these two ghosts were trying to steal the Chest of Demons.”

“Some things never change,” Flim-Flam muttered.

“You can say that again,” Shaggy muttered.

“Have mercy, oh esteemed warlock,” Bogel begged.

“And now you grovel, again,” Vincent rubbed the bridge of his nose. He turned to Miss Grimwood. “Helewise, would you please take all of your students back into the house, and remain there until I give you permission to leave?”

“If you need us too, we will,” Miss Grimwood told him. She looked at her students. “Come along, girls.”

Winnie hopped down off the Chest of Demons and she and the other girls trooped away, following the headmistress back into the house. Matches, now freed, snapped at Bogel once more before stalking off after the girls, muttering under his breath as he did.

“Get the Chest,” Vincent ordered, his voice hard. Flim-Flam quickly retrieved it. “Shaggy, tell me when all of the Ghouls are back in the house.”

Shaggy turned and watched, and there was a pause as they waited for him to say something. “Godzina just went in. That’s all of ‘em. But what are you gonna do, Mr. V?”

Vincent took the Chest of Demons from Flim-Flam. “I’m going to give these ghosts something they’ve wanted for years: a chance to hobnob with the most foul spirits to ever roam the Earth.”

If it was possible, the two ghosts managed to look even paler at this declaration. “Wait! Please!” Bogel started, but before he could finish, Vincent had opened the Chest of Demons, and both ghosts were sucked inside. The lid closed with a decisive click.

“We shoulda done that a long time ago,” Flim-Flam said, kicking at a pebble on the ground.

“Well, it’s done now. Those two ghosts won’t be able to bother us anymore,” Daphne offered.

“And they won’t trick anyone into opening the chest ever again,” Shaggy noted. He and Scooby turned away.

“Where are you going?” Daphne asked.

Shaggy used his thumb to point at the house. “Gotta get the spare hinges and fix the library door.”

“Ryeah, since Relsa knocked it down ragain,” Scooby added.

Daphne watched them go before she turned to Vincent. “What do we do now that there’s no books here that can help us?”

“I’m still considering that matter,” Vincent said, hefting the Chest of Demons back up. “Let’s go back inside. I need to consult with Miss Grimwood.”

“And we gotta tell the Ghouls it’s safe to come back out,” Scrappy added, marching back towards the door of the school. “And that they did a great job! Just like they did with Revolta!”

“I have to hear this story about Revolta,” Flim-Flam decided as he, along with Daphne and Vincent, followed Scrappy back into the house.

Chapter Text

The door to the library had been set right, and the books all put away. Daphne, Shaggy, and Scooby were sitting in the parlor.

“I wonder what we’ll do now,” Daphne said, “since Mr. Van Ghoul didn’t find what he needed in the books here.”

“Back to Tibet?” Shaggy offered.

“Vincent didn’t say anything about it.”

“Rhe’s meeting rwith Miss Grimwood now,” Scooby said.

“I wish we knew what they’re talking about,” Daphne mused.

There was silence for a few minutes as each of them was lost in their own thoughts. Shaggy broke the silence first. “Did Mr. V say anything about how we lost our memories?”

Daphne shook her head absently. “No. I tried to ask him about that today, but he didn’t answer. I guess he’ll tell us about it when he’s ready.”

“I feel kinda bad that I was so afraid of him the other day,” Shaggy admitted. “I mean. He can be really intimidating, but we were with him long enough to know better. I just freaked. I saw someone who only dreamed about, and not even that often.”

“Yeah,” Daphne agreed. She became thoughtful. “Maybe we’ll all understand this better when Mr. Van Ghoul explains it to us.”

“Rif he rexplains,” Scooby added a little glumly.

“...what I wanted to know. Thanks, Matches,” Scrappy came in, followed by Flim-Flam and Matches.

“Yeah,” the dragon huffed, then went and curled up by the small table.

“What are we waiting for here?” Flim-Flam asked.

“Mr Van Ghoul is talking to Miss Grimwood,” Daphne told him. “And after that, I guess he’ll tell us what we’re doing next.”

“I know you don’t like it, but I can’t think of any other options for you,” Miss Grimwood said. “I don’t know anyone else who could possibly help fix the crystal ball. And you said he’s helped before.”

“It was…” Vincent paused, leaning back in the chair in front of Miss Grimwood’s desk and steepling his fingers. His crystal ball, the one that was not shattered, sat on the desk in front of him. “An experience. He’s always an experience. Thank you for help and hospitality. I appreciate it.”

Miss Grimwood waved his words away. “It’s the least I can do Vincent. If there’s anything you think of that I can do to help, promise you’ll contact me right away.”

“I will,” Vincent assured her, though they both knew that anything she could do would be limited at best. He stood up, picking up the crystal as he did. “I need to get the kids.”

Miss Grimwood smiled as she watched him go. Once he was out of the room, she turned her attention back to the papers on her desk.

When Vincent walked into the parlor, the Gang snapped to attention.

“I am obliged to keep searching for a way to repair the crystal ball,” Vincent announced. He held the whole crystal out. “There is another place I can look for the information.”

“Another old friend?” Daphne asked.

“That’s a way to put it,” Vincent acknowledged.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Flim-Flam asked.

“Be warned,” Vincent said, as the crystal began to glow green. “He’s a little eccentric.”

When they came out of the teleport, they were standing on a snowy mountain, riddled with trees. A sign was nearby.

“You are entering the lands of the Winter Warlock!” Shaggy read the sign, starting slowly but becoming more alarmed as he did. “Zoinks!”

Scooby hopped into his arms and they both shivered. “Rwinter Rwarlock?”

“Who dares trespass on the lands of the Winter Warlock?!” A voice thundered out of nowhere. Daphne stepped back involuntarily. Even Flim-Flam and Scrappy looked nervous.

Vincent crossed his arms over his chest and answered, annoyed, “Vincent Van Ghoul!”

The scene around them shifted and changed and they were standing in a wide receiving hall. Daphne noticed with a shock that the walls that had seemed painted pale blue were actually made of ice, frosted to make them opaque.

An imposing figure in a silvery blue robe, matching hat that looked more like an old-fashioned nightcap than any modern hat the Gang had ever seen, and with a long white beard stood before them. “Well, why didn’t you just teleport yourself into the castle like usual? Young warlocks these days...” he trailed off. It was then that the Gang noticed something else: Idesvigg was sitting on the man’s shoulders.

“Young warlocks?” Flim-Flam repeated.

Vincent cleared his throat. “I’d like to introduce you all to the Winter Warlock. Winter, this is Shaggy, Scooby, Daphne, Flim-Flam, and Scrappy.”

“It’s very nice to meet you!” Winter boomed. Then something hit the castle.

Shaggy and Scooby were clinging to each other again. “Were we followed again?” Scrappy asked.

Winter bent down and made a snowball. He tossed it into the air, and when it landed in his hand again, it was a crystal ball. He peered into it for a moment. The castle shook again. He tossed the crystal snowball to Vincent. “I thought you got your family problems sorted out.”

No one was paying that much attention to what he was saying, though, as when Vincent held the crystal up, they could see that Asmodeus was circling, flinging fireballs at the castle.

“How does he keep following us?” Daphne asked, exasperatedly. Shaggy and Scooby were still hugging each other and shivering.

Winter Warlock looked at the image in the crystal, and began to recite a spell. “Winter wind with haste and speed, come to me now in time of need. Bring icy blast and freezing snow, and drive away from me my foe.” As he finished the last word, he flung a hand out towards the crystal ball that Vincent was still holding, and they watched a blast of snow blow the monster back. Winter Warlock drew his hand back, and as he did, there was a snowflake hovering at his palm. He clapped his hands together over the snowflake, and a gust of magical energy blew through the room and everyone standing there. A roar came up around the castle, and the light in the windows suddenly dimmed as a blizzard blew up outside.

“There,” Winter Warlock said, “that should keep him busy.”

“Like, don’t you think that creeper might not be happy with you?” Shaggy asked. By now, Scooby was so frightened that Shaggy was holding him again.

Winter Warlock raised an eyebrow. “Young man, I don’t care who is out there. It is the epitome of rudeness to fly up my mountain and fling fireballs at my castle. I don’t hold with that. Asamad can wander around in a blizzard for a while. And don’t go outside. Visibility is zero right now.”

“Asamad?” The Gang repeated.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Uh, time is confusing for me. I’ve been through a great deal of it, you see,” Winter Warlock explained. “And since I knew him once as Asamad Van Ghoul, I still tend to think of him that way, though he doffed that moniker a few millennia ago.”

If it had not been for the blizzard roaring outside, there would have been dead silence in the room. The others all turned to look at Vincent. Even Shaggy and Scooby had stopped shaking.

“Asamad Van Ghoul?” they repeated in unison.

Vincent sighed. “Yes. Asamad Van Ghoul. I have the extreme misfortune to be descended from him.”

Chapter Text

"He’s...what?” Flim-Flam managed to get out.

Winter Warlock looked confused. “Wait, you mean, they didn’t know?”

“They do now,” Vincent said sarcastically. “No, it never came up, and I did not feel the need to share.”

The final words were icy, and Daphne sensed that something underneath them hurt. Before she could say something to try and interrupt the tension, Vincent was pressing on.

“Asamad Van Ghoul once held the position of the most powerful warlock in the world. But he became consumed by his power, and used it to do terrible things. He controlled people’s minds, twisting their wills to his, and making them do anything that suited him.”

“He was pretty infamous for all his time spent practicing necromancy, too,” Winter added. Vincent glared at him. “What? He was very good at it, except for the part where that’s a forbidden art.” That part was added more thoughtfully.

Daphne and Shaggy had by now realized that they had heard bits and pieces of this story before throughout the time spent with Vincent.

“I’ve seen that name before,” Flim-Flam realized.

“I have too,” Daphne added. It dawned on her that she remembered where, too. “There’s a portrait...a name on a plaque, the picture in the study!” She finished, able to finally see the picture in her mind. Another question occurred to her. “Why would you leave a picture of him up in your study if he was so evil?”

“It was a reminder to me of what can happen if I’m not careful,” Vincent admitted.

Winter seemed to sense that the topic was uncomfortable, and ventured to change the subject. “So, what you brings you by Vincent? Picking up?” He gestured at Idesvigg. Then he looked at the Gang. “Dropping off?”

“I need the library. You still have the spell books I’ve brought here over the years?”

“Of course I do. I don’t mess with them once you put them on the shelves. Let’s go up to the library,” Winter said, turning to lead the way up a staircase of ice. As he led the way up the stairs, he let some of his magic out through his slippers into the ice to rough it up and make it easier for the humans following him to walk on it. At the landing, there was a miniature ice castle.

“Nice,” Flim-Flam said as he stepped aside to look at it. “Have you considered a career as a professional ice carver? I could hook you up with some gigs!”

“A what now?” Winter paused and looked confused.

“I mean, look at this talent,” Flim-Flam gestured at the miniature.

Winter gave a half-shrug. “Oh, I made that for Idesvigg. I thought he needed a castle of his own.” With that, the ice wizard turned and continued to lead the way up the stairs.

Idesvigg jumped down off Winter’s shoulder as the group moved up the stairs. He landed on Scooby, and ran down the Great Dane’s back to jump towards Vincent. The other warlock caught the little imp. “Hello, Idesvigg.” Idesvigg chirped a greeting, and scrambled up Vincent’s sleeve to sit on the other man’s shoulder.

On the second floor, Winter stopped outside what looked like a sheet of white ice, criss-crossed into a pattern of diamonds. Winter flung a hand out, and the sheet of ice broke into dozens of little diamonds, revealing a room filled with books beyond. As they went into the room, Winter flung a hand back, and the ice diamonds latched onto the wall.

“Here you are,” Winter said. “Like I said, I left all the books where you put them.” The library was full of books; the shelf in particular that Winter was looking at was, filled to the brim with black books. “Of course, all the books you bring here have black covers, and are about the same size, so, best of luck in your search.”

“Mr. Warlock,” Daphne started, but Winter interrupted him.

“Please, call me Winter.”

“Okay, Winter,” Daphne said. “Do you know any way to fix a broken crystal ball?”

Winter shrugged. “Of the top of my head, I do not know. I don’t use many crystal balls, and I make them as needed and since I make them out of snow, I generally let them turn back into snow when I’m done with them. But, one of these spell books might have the answer.”

“There’s sure a lot of them,” Flim-Flam noted.

“Yes, when I confiscate books on magic from the irresponsible or inept, I bring them here to keep them safe and out of the hands of anyone who would come looking for them,” Vincent said.

“So, you don’t know what all is here either, Mr. V?” Shaggy asked.

“I have a general idea. Most of these books I have not looked through in depth,” Vincent admitted.

Scrappy hopped up onto one of the shelves and pulled out one of the books, followed by Idesvigg who went to the next one. “We’d better get started looking then!”

Winter pressed his hands together. “If you will excuse me, I must go, and continue to harass Asamad. It’s only fair, after all.” He threw his head back, laughed darkly, and disappeared in a shower of snow.

“Wow,” Daphne said when Winter had gone.

“He’s eccentric,” Vincent shrugged. “He’s been up on this mountain for a few thousand years now.”

“Like, being up here a few thousand years would make anyone crazy!” Shaggy suggested.

Vincent had pulled one of the books down and started to flip through it. “Every year the frost patterns in winter get a little bit more intricate, and the forest around this castle gets a little thicker. That’s his doing.”

“Guess he stays busy then,” Flim-Flam said, opening one of the books he had pulled off the nearest shelf. The others came over to help look, and they all got to work.

Daphne had started out helping Vincent and the others sort through the books, but curiosity finally overcame her. The search was taking a while, and her eyes were starting to hurt from looking through the books, skimming through them, seeking any references to crystal balls. She had been looking through the ones in French. Shaggy had been alternating between the English and some of the Latin books.

She slipped out of the library to look around the ice castle. There was a window right outside the library, and she glanced out it. There was, as Winter had warned them earlier, no visibility. It was just white outside. She thought about it and realized that ever since Winter had started the blizzard, there had been no sign of Asmodeus. Whatever he had done must have worked.

She continued down the hall. Another door was ajar a few feet ahead of her. Daphne pushed it open and went in. In the center of the room was a wide basin, rimmed by blocks of ice. When she peered over the side, there was nothing in it. Above was a wide dome of clear ice that showed the blizzard overhead, but she realized as she stood there that given how high they were in the mountains, the view of the stars must be beautiful.

Daphne turned and started. There was a desk in the corner, and Winter was sitting there, a reed stylus in his hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to disturb you,” Winter said. “You seemed rather entranced by the basin.”

“It’s very beautiful,” Daphne admitted. “Do you make everything you need out of snow and ice?”

“Mmm...most everything,” Winter admitted. He had turned his chair to face her, and Daphne could see that he was sitting at a desk, working at something that looked like a drafting table that an engineer would use. There was another reed lying across the top of the drafting table, and there was a design of frost all over the board. The tip of the reed stylus Winter held had what looked like frost on it. This must be where Winter worked, she realized, and these were the tools that he used to make the intricate frost patterns that Vincent had mentioned earlier. “Some things I have to magic up for myself, though. Tired of the library already?”

“Oh, I was just looking to take a break,” Daphne told him.

“In that case, make yourself at home! I saw your friends in the red shirt and the yellow shirt, too, earlier. They were hungry so I sent them to the kitchen,” Winter went on, and Daphne realized that she hadn’t noticed that either of them had left.

“Have you known Vincent for a long time?” Daphne asked.

“Yes! Since he took his place as the world’s most powerful warlock! Asamad used to hold that position, you know.”

“Yes, Mr. Van Ghoul told us, remember?” Daphne asked.

“Oh, that’s right!”

“You didn’t seem surprised when we showed up,” Daphne went on.

Winter shrugged. “Vincent comes and goes as he wants. I don’t mind. I don’t get out much, you see, and I don’t have many friends. Oh, Kris comes down when he can, but he stays pretty busy these days. Vincent will come by and put a book away and tell me what he’s heard that’s going on in the world. And he brought Idesvigg here too, to keep me company, he said, and because there was something else going on that was keeping him busy. Now I’ve realized he meant that the Thirteen Ghosts were out there again. I suppose he didn’t want Idesvigg in the middle of that.”

“Vincent told us at the time that he was taking Idesvigg somewhere safe,” Daphne told him.

“Yes. Vincent is Idesvigg’s hero, you know. Idesvigg is always happy to see him,” Winter went on.

Daphne hesitated. “Mr. Warlock- ”

“Winter, please,” he interrupted her.

“Winter, can I ask you a question about magic?”

“Of course! But why don’t you just ask Vincent?” Winter wanted to know.

“Because...because I don’t think that he wants to talk about this,” Daphne said.

Shaggy wandered into the room just then, trailed by Flim-Flam. Both were chewing on globs of dark brown material wrapped around sticks. “Maple sugar snow candy?” he offered, holding the stick out to Daphne.

“No thanks,” Daphne said.

“Your question?” Winter went on.

Shaggy and Flim-Flam were looking at her curiously. Winter was waiting to hear what she wanted. Daphne took out a deep breath, and asked, “Can Asmodeus take away memories?” She didn’t remember all of the last fight with the monster. All she remembered was falling, and then waking up at home.

“Well...” Winter thought it over. “It’s certainly not outside his capabilities. Why do you ask?”

“Because, like, last time we fought him, we lost our memories for like two years!” Shaggy told him. He gave a nervous laugh. “I think if Mr. V hadn’t shown up, we still wouldn’t remember anything about the ghosts!”

Winter looked like he was deep in thought. “So, you lost your memories while fighting Asamad, and then you saw Vincent, and when that happened you got your memories back. Is that correct?”

“Uh-huh,” the three of them nodded.

“Mmm,” Winter mused, then sighed. “There are many ways to take away someone’s memories. And many reasons for doing it. If your memories were restored when you saw Vincent, then Asamad didn’t take your memories away. Vincent did.”

The trio looked aghast at that news. Winter went on. “If Asamad had taken your memories, you would have needed to see him to get your memories back, not Vincent.”

“No way!” Flim-Flam protested. “Vince would never do that to us.”

Winter looked at him, and stated evenly, “the magical evidence says that he did.”

They all looked hurt at that. “No wonder he ignored us every time we asked about it,” Flim-Flam grumbled. “Why would he do that to us?”

“You’re asking the wrong ‘why’ question,” Winter said, opening his hand and letting his reed stylus disappear. “You’re asking ‘why’ to indict his character. There are circumstances where a mage will take away the memories of a mortal. Normally, though, there has to be a good reason to do it. It’s not exactly dark magic, but it’s frowned upon. I’ve never known Vincent to be cruel. Cocky when he was younger, yes, and I’ve never known a young witch or warlock who wasn’t. But never cruel. Instead of asking ‘why’ against his character, ask ‘why’ about his motives.”

Chapter Text

“What do you mean by that?” Shaggy asked.

“Exactly what I said. Don’t ask, ‘why did he do this to us’ ask ‘what motivated him to do it,’” Winter said.

Daphne seemed to be thinking of something else. “Is there a way that you can show us what happened in that final battle?”

Winter made a non-committal noise. “I suppose so. Though you should just ask Vincent.”

“We’ve tried that, sir. He won’t tell us anything,” Shaggy protested.

Winter stood up and walked to the basin in the center of the room, taking a seat on the snow-brick railing that ran around it. “Ice can be dangerous,” he said as he touched the air over the bottom of the basin. As soon as he did, water rippled into it instantly, and froze so clearly that it looked like the basin was still empty. He glanced up at the humans. “What do you want to see?”

The three of them glanced at each other. “The last time we battled Asmodeus, what happened after that,” Daphne finally said. No one else was willing to speak up.

Winter nodded. “Touch the ice.”

All three of them drew closer. Winter remained seated where he was. Daphne reached down, and hesitantly touched the ice. It was solid under her hand. The center of the ice began to glow, and they all watched as the scene unfolded before them.

The Himalayas

Two Years Earlier

They were falling. Through the snow, through the Earth.

And then the mountains were below them. Asmodeus had teleported them, and they were plummeting back to Earth.

Vincent managed to pull out the crystal ball. It started to glow green. Asmodeus’ wings were clamped to his body, allowing him to free-fall. He ignored the Gang, instead aiming for Vincent, and knocking the crystal ball out of the warlock’s hand.

“Diaga!” Vincent snarled, and the blast of light magic, sent the monster flying back. He turned his attention to the crystal. “Levitate!” It floated back up towards him. He caught it.

Asmodeus was back, and grabbed the crystal. This time he couldn’t get it out of Vincent’s hand. Instead he forced his own magic into it, a dark red competing with green.

The dueling energy caused a crack in the crystal. The noise of the crack was like thunder around them.

“You think you can save them?” Asmodeus mocked.

“I will save them!” Vincent snapped.

Neither of them was willing to relinquish their hold on the crystal. Asmodeus opened his other hand, and another orb of dark red energy expanded from it, this time encompassing all the Gang. Scenes began to appear against the red background, of the Spector Reflector’s lair, the town where they had met Flim-Flam and Daphne had been turned into a werewolf, the world of Frankenscoob, more and more scenes from even earlier, the Gang with Fred and Velma, Flim-Flam at the orphanage he’d grown up, almost too fast to be seen. As the memories drifted out, the Gang went limp and then unconscious, still free-falling in the air.

“I will leave you to bury them like you buried Mortifer!” Asmodeus told Vincent. “I will know their memories and minds and there will be nowhere on this planet that they will be able to go to escape me. One stray thought of the Chest or of you or any of my fellow prisoners in that box will lead me to them no matter where they hide!” The memories that he had taken from them were starting to coalesce into the orb of red magic Asmodeus held in his hand.

Vincent reached out in a movement of desperation, grabbed the monster’s hand, and slapped it against the emerald pendant hanging around his neck. Instantly, his face contorted into an expression of pain, as Asmodeus shrieked, “No!” Then he tightened his grip on the emerald. “You want to thwart me?! Fool enough to show my your powers, now I curse you! I hide them from you, as you hide them from me!” The red orb that he had been holding was now absorbing into the emerald.

Vincent looked like he was in agony at that, though from what Asmodeus was saying or the new red glow that now surrounded his emerald was impossible to tell. He broke the connection, managing the knock Asmodeus’ hand off of his emerald. The last evidence of what had happened was a red glow in the center of the stone, that slowly disappeared as Asmodeus’ magic was dispersed within the stone. He held the crystal ball up again, but Asmodeus grabbed it. When Vincent tried to free the crystal ball again, Asmodeus knocked his blast of light magic aside.

The crystal, now under pressure from two opposing magics, shattered into two pieces. “Holy light!” Vincent’s spell of light magic sent Asmodeus flying back. The ground was growing closer. “Teleport!” Vincent, shouted, but there was a sound of laughter from the monster, and in the midst of it they all disappeared.

Scrappy woke up, stretched, and yawned. “Wow. I must have been sleeping really hard.” He hopped out of bed, and immediately slipped on half a crystal ball lying on the floor by the bed. It caused him to face-plant, and he sat up, rubbing his nose. “Ow.” Then he saw what he had tripped on. “Huh? What’s this?” He turned it over, but there was nothing on it that showed where it could have come from. “I wonder what it is.” He lifted it over his head, and marched out of the room.

Shaggy and Scooby were downstairs at the kitchen table. “It’s good to be back,” Shaggy was saying while perusing a newspaper when Scrappy marched into the room. “I’m glad we got Uncle Beauregard's estate sorted out.”

Scooby was devouring a huge bowl of cereal. “Ruh-huh.”

“Here’s an ad that looks interesting. It’s a posting for a gym teacher’s job at a girl’s school. I’ll have to call them and see what documents they want,” Shaggy said. He lowered the newspaper as Scrappy hopped up on the table, and dropped the half a crystal ball on it. “Like, morning Scrappy. Whatcha got there?”

“Morning Shaggy, Uncle Scooby. I don’t know. I found this when I got up this morning. But it feels important. I want to find out why!” He hopped down off the table, leaving the ball behind, and went to the pantry.

Shaggy and Scooby exchanged glances. “Well, Gang, looks like we’ve got a mystery on our hands,” Shaggy said. Scooby laughed as the beatnik opened his paper again and kept reading.

When her alarm went off, Daphne slapped the button on top of it and curled up under her blanket again. For a few minutes longer she was allowed to sleep in peace. Then there was a knock on the door, and she heard Velma on the other side. “Daphne, are you up? I thought that we were leaving this morning.”

Daphne sat bolt upright in the bed. “I forgot!” She gasped. She hopped out of bed and immediately stubbed her toe on the Chest of Demons next to the bed. “Ow ow ow!” she hopped back and sat down on the bed, rubbing her sore toe. “Where did that thing come from? And what is it?”

There was a knock on the door again, and this time Velma opened the door and peeked in. “You didn’t forget we were leaving this morning, did you?”

“No, no, just overslept,” Daphne assured her, getting up and picking up the Chest.

“What is that thing?” Velma asked. “A Halloween decoration?”

“Umm,” Daphne stopped and realized that she didn’t know. “Yes. Don’t open it!” She cautioned as she snatched her clothes from a chair where she had set them out the day before and ran into the bathroom to change, only to poke her head back out as soon as she had closed the door. “Don’t open that!” Then she closed the door again.

Velma looked at the box she was holding. “I don’t know who would want to open this ugly thing,” she sighed. She set the chest down on the bed and headed back out to load the bags into the car. She was looking forward to getting down to Florida, back to her job, and stopping anywhere they felt like along the way in their girls-only road trip.

They were just ready to set out. The bags were packed, the house was closed up, and they were ready to leave. Just as Daphne put the key into the van’s ignition, she stopped. “Wait! There’s something I forgot.” She darted back into the house. Velma watched as she came back out with the chest and put it into the back of the van.
“Bringing the ugly Halloween decoration?” Velma asked as Daphne got back into the van.

“I need to keep it with me,” Daphne said.

“Whatever,” Velma sighed. Daphne started the van, and they set off.

When Flim-Flam opened his eyes, he was lying in a field, looking up a blue sky. He couldn’t remember how he had come to be here, though he did remember that he had left the orphanage to try his luck elsewhere.

A village was down below. He decided to try his luck there. As he stood up, a glint nearby caught his eye. When he parted the grass, he saw a half a crystal ball lying there.

“Huh. Weird.” He picked it up, and wondered where the feeling of nostalgia was coming from when he held it. “I’ll hang on to it for now.” He tucked it away in his sweatshirt and set off for the village below.

When Vincent opened his eyes, he was lying in the snow outside the front step of his castle. He slowly got to his feet. There was something behind him, and he turned to see Asmodeus standing there. The threshold of the castle with it’s protection spells was behind him.

Asmodeus looked furious. “When I find those foolish children, and after I have killed them, would you like me to leave their bodies where they fall, or bring them here to you?” Vincent’s eyes widened, but before he could retort, Asmodeus flung a fireball at him and he raised his cape to block the blast. It dissipated against the fabric. Asmodeus leaped over to were the warlock was standing and yanked the cape away.

There was nothing behind it. Vincent had teleported away.

Inside his castle Vincent summoned a new cape and went to his study to retrieve the crystal sitting in the hand of glory stand on his desk. Then he teleported again.

But when he arrived in the foyer of Daphne’s house, it was dark and quiet. There was no one there.

Chapter Text

The scene in the ice faded away. Daphne, Shaggy, and Flim-Flam stood there for a moment, silent and shocked. Daphne looked ready to cry.

“Like, he took our memories to protect us,” Shaggy finally broke the silence.

Winter shrugged. “I told you, questions his motives, not his integrity.”

“He tried to find us after it happened,” Daphne’s voice was thick with sorrow. “And we had all already gone.”

“Why didn’t he tell us?” Flim-Flam asked quietly.

“Now that is a question that I cannot answer,” Winter told him. “Only Vincent can tell you that.”

Daphne looked at him at that. “You know magic, though. What...did Asmodeus do to him?”

Winter thought through what he had seen. “Asamad took an opportunity to curse Vincent when it came, and not just by hiding you all from Vincent. Vincent kept Asmoedus from stealing your memories by taking them into his emerald. They would be safe there. But to do that Vincent had to divert Asamad’s magic, and when he did that, when he touched Vincent’s emerald, Asamad would have gotten a good idea of the scope of Vincent’s abilities. And I’m sure he won’t let that information go to waste.”

“So, like, he saved us and let Asmodeus know all about his magic in exchange,” Shaggy gulped.

Winter nodded. Except for the noise of the blizzard outside, there was no other sound.

Daphne swallowed again. “There’s...there’s something else.” Shaggy and Flim-Flam looked at her. She went on. “We need to know ...what happened last time Vincent faced Asmodeus.”

Winter took a deep breath. “Of course. If he didn’t tell you how you lost your memories...” but he seemed reluctant in spite of his statement.

“It’s more than that, sir,” Shaggy said, finally. “It’s...when we went to fight Asmodeus last time, Mr V was, like...”

“Reluctant,” Flim-Flam finished. “He didn’t want to go. And that’s not like him at all.”

“He didn’t want us to go,” Daphne corrected. “He wanted to go by himself. But we wouldn’t let him.”

“Mmmm….” Winter nodded. “I can show you. But are you sure that you want to know?”

“We need to know.” Daphne finished with finality.

“Well,” Winter gestured at the basin. “I suppose you have the right to know, now that Asmodeus is back.”

The three of them drew near to the basin. For a moment, everyone hesitated. Shaggy gulped again. “Are we sure about this?”

“We have to know,” Daphne said. It was enough. The three of them reached down and touched the ice. It started to glow again, and they watched the next scene unfold.

The Himalayas

Approximately 300 years ago

A man in medieval clothes nearly bounced off the ground, having been thrown back by the force of a blast of magic that had narrowly missed hitting him directly. Mortifer, for it could be no one else, pushed himself up, and then dodged again as a second blast followed the first. A younger looking Vincent, dressed in his blue and purple sorcerer’s robes, slid back under the force of the magical blast that he had just managed to deflect.

Vincent pulled the Chest of Demons out and set it on the ground. He started to pull the lid up.

Asmodeus flew up, wings spread. “You think you can stop me?!” He began to gather energy in his hands. “Dark Astra Ultimatix!” He launched the blast of energy; a meteor of power, at Vincent. The warlock was preoccupied with the chest, forcing his own magic into opening the lid, which he had no doubt was held back by Asmodeus’ power.

The Chest moved faster than the incoming attack. The lid flew open, and the Chest sucking Asmodeus into it. Vincent slammed the lid shut with a decisive click and let out a breath, half-relieved, half-exhausted.

Then something else, momentarily forgotten, came back to the forefront of his mind, and he looked up to the Ultimatix coming straight at him; Asmodeus’ parting gift.

“Vincent! Look out!” He heard Mortifer for one brief instant, and then the human had flung himself in the way, between Vincent and the blast of magic. The force of the impact sent Mortifer flying back into Vincent, who was in turn knocked back by the transmitted force.

There was silence on the battlefield. The Chest, knocked aside by the blast, was a stone-faced sentinel.

Vincent got his breath back and pushed himself up. As he did, Mortifer shifted as well, and Vincent looped one arm around his friend’s shoulder to help support him. Mortifer coughed up blood. It splattered over the front of the warlock’s purple embellishments, just missing the emerald at his neck.

“Esuna!” Vincent placed on hand on Mortifer’s chest and cast the healing spell, but nothing seemed to happened.

Mortifer coughed again. “Won’t...help,” he gasped out. “Ultimatix. Remember, you told me...” he trailed off, and Vincent bit his lip. This particular spell was meant to kill a magic user. Once cast it rendered the caster useless for hours or days until their mana had regenerated, and what it did couldn’t be undone by other spells, not even healing ones.

“No,” Vincent said, clutching Mortifer tighter. “I can fix this!” A million schemes were presenting themselves, one after the other, in his mind. He wasn’t sure any of them would work.

But he had to try!

Mortifer shook his head. It was a feeble motion. “It’s...okay.” He coughed again. More blood trailed down his chin. “Vince, don’t...forget.” He reached up and clutched Vincent’s emerald pendant. “Don’t…forget.” He breathed out a sigh and went limp in Vincent's arms. He hand fell away from the emerald.

Vincent clutched Mortifer’s body closer as tears began to stream down his face. The Chest of Demons watched, it’s silent face unchanged.

Chapter Text

The image in the ice faded away. The trio stood there, stunned. Flim-Flam was the first to recover. “No wonder he wanted to face Asmodeus alone when that monster showed up."

There was nothing else Daphne or Shaggy could say to that. The door was pushed open again, this time revealing Vincent, with Idesvigg on his shoulder, and the two dogs.

The warlock took in the scene. “What-?” He was interrupted as Daphne rushed over to hug him, followed by the others. “Is...everything alright?” Vincent asked carefully. He cast his glance around the room and then saw the basin. “Oh. You...know then.”

“Yes sir,” Shaggy admitted. “We know.”

“Know what?” Scrappy asked.

“Remember how we all lost our memories?” Daphne asked, releasing her hold on the warlock. “Last time we fought Asmodeus he tried to steal our memories, but Mr. Van Ghoul got in his way and ended up with them instead.

“I swear to you, I never meant to take your memories, or keep them as long as I did. If there had been another way out, I would have taken it,” Vincent told them.

“We know, Vince,” Flim-Flam added. “But… you had to let Asmodeus know about your magic to save us.”

“”Rso rthat’s why he keeps rinterfering!” Scooby said.

“Mr. Van Ghoul, you shouldn’t have done that,” Scrappy said.

“It is what it is,” Vincent said quietly. “There was nothing else I could do at the time. And I would do it again if I had too. He has always been able to interfere in my magic. It’s an unfortunate side effect of being descended from him. And you don't need to be so formal anymore. Vincent is fine.”

“Sure thing, Vince!” Shaggy said.

Vincent glared at him. “I said Vincent was fine!”

The beatnik grinned nervously. “Uh, sure thing...Vincent. Sorry.”

“And we saw what happened lat time you faced Asmodeus and know why you didn’t want us along the last time,” Flim-Flam went on. “After your friend uh, died.”

Vincent shoved them away, looking like he’d been struck. “What?!” He stormed toward the other wizard, Idesvigg still clinging to the high color of his purple cape. “You shouldn’t have told them about that!”

“You’re right,” Winter acknowledged. “I shouldn’t have told them. You should have, and you should have done it a long time ago.”

“It’s not their concern!”

“Mmmm, I suppose that’s true. Or it was. Now that Asmodeus is loosed upon the world again, it seems like it’s a little more important. They need to know what happened to know what the risks they face are. Asmodeus is now targeting them. I think I don’t agree with you.”

“And if I say it it’s not important for them to know?” Vincent challenged.

Winter shrugged. “The wind has blown around this mountain for...” he trailed off and considered it, and the Gang remember what he had told them earlier, about time being confusing for him. “A long time, anyway, and yet, I am still here. You should have told them. I know why you wouldn't have wanted too, but they needed to know. And so now they do. You can be as mad at me as you want, but I stand by what I did. Now, how has your search gone?”

“I haven’t found anything,” Vincent admitted. “I thought for sure that there would be something in one of these books.”

“I can make more crystal balls if you need them,” Winter offered. "I can make as many as you want."

“Asmodeus tried his best to sever my magical connection to the broken one,” Vincent reminded him. “If I can put it back together, I might be able to use it to help understand Asmodeus’ magic.”

Winter considered it. “That would make sense. Well, you could always check the Necronomicon.”

Shaggy gulped. “The what?”

“The Necronomicon! Asamad’s book of magic. Back when he was the most powerful warlock, he did a lot to advance magical theory, and the Necronomicon was his spell book! Of course, then he started using it record his forays into bending men’s minds to his will, and how to raise an undead army and open portals to Tartarus and things like that,” Winter explained.

“Rsounds serious,” Scooby whimpered.

“How come you never mentioned this before!?” Vincent demanded.

“It’s never come up before,” Winter pointed out. “You’ve always been able to find what you needed in the books in the library. And I haven’t touched the Necronomicon since Merlin gave it to me and told me to hide it here. Do you want to see it?”

“Yes I do!” Vincent said emphatically.

“Alright then!” Winter boomed. He held up one finger. “Quick! To the Boreal Pole!” He clapped his hands together, once, and they all disappeared.

They reappeared a moment later in a tall tower chamber. Out the windows the Gang could see snow-covered land stretching off towards a black horizon. The black sky above was sprinkled with stars.

“Hey! The blizzard’s stopped!” Scrappy noticed.

Winter was now standing, the ice basin and desk long gone. “That is because we are no longer on my mountain. Welcome to the Boreal Pole.”

“The what now?” Flim-Flam asked.

“The Boreal Pole is an inter-dimensional location,” Vincent explained. “There are other locations like it, but the Boreal Pole is exclusively for the use of the one guards winter magic; ice and snow.”

“You’ve been here before?” Shaggy asked.

“No, but I’ve read about it,” Vincent replied.

Winter held up his index finger, with one tiny snowflake hovering over it. He grasped the snowflake, and pulled it down into his reed stylus. He plucked the stylus out of the air and used it to send a blast of glimmering snow magic at a circle etched into the floor. The circle began to rise. It came to the height of a podium, and then the top portaion opened like a flower made of snow, revealing another black book. This one had a wide band that ran across it, and a tarnished silver latch that kept it closed.

“I give you, the Necronomicon,” Winter announced.

“When you were asked to hide this,” Vincent said, giving the book a long look. “Did you look at it at all before you put it away?”

“Nope.” Winter shook his head. “Anyway, Merlin said at the time that the book was cursed and only someone of Asamad’s bloodline could open it.”

“Is that true?” Daphne asked.

“I really don’t know. I never tried to open it,” Winter said. “I put the book away, like I was told. It could have just been a story that Merlin made up to spread around and keep people from looking for the book. But like I said, I wouldn’t know.”

Flim-Flam looked at the book. It didn’t seem like a book could give off a sense of evil, but this one did. “So what’d Merlin have to do with all this anyway?”

“Merlin,” Vincent answered, “was the first to hold the title of World’s Most Powerful Warlock. When he grew tired of the post, he left it, and Asmodeus took it over after that.”

“Remember, at the time, he was Asamad,” Winter pointed out. “And Merlin came back, once it became clear that there was no one else who could put a stop to Asamad’s evil. He had left and gone to some island to try and teach magic to some girl there. He was able to put a stop to Asamad and keep him from taking over the world. He gave me the Necronomicon to take and hide here, and then Merlin took the Chest of Demons and hid it in King Solomon’s tomb. He said he wanted to make sure that Asamad could never retrieve the spell book.”

“His plan must have worked,” Vincent said, his tone distant, “because no one even knew to look for it the last time he got free. It was my fault that that happened. Mortifer and I discovered King Solomon’s tomb. I wanted to learn more about my heritage, the evil sorcerer my family was said to be descended from. I am the last of the Van Ghouls, the last of the line of magic users. But the seal on the Chest...I broke it by accident, and released the ghosts inside. Mortifer and I had to put them all back into the Chest.” He stepped forward and picked up the book.

“M-m-maybe this is a bad idea,” Shaggy offered.

“I don’t have any other ideas,” Vincent muttered.

“If looking at the book is that bad of an idea, Merlin can come back out of whatever cave he’s locked in at present and stop us,” Winter suggested. “But I think he knew it needed to be here. He could see through time. There are plenty of places he could have taken the book and plenty of people he could have asked to guard it. No, I think Merlin knew exactly what he was doing.”

Silence descended. Vincent exhaled, and flipped the cover of the book open. He flipped through the pages. “Get the broken crystal,” he ordered. Flim-Flam and Daphne pulled out the two pieces of the shattered crystal and brought them forward. Vincent took one in each hand. Neither Daphne nor Flim-Flam heard clearly the spell he muttered under his breath, but after a moment, the two halves of the crystal ball began to glow. Vincent released the two pieces into the air, and the glow intensified as they came together and finally sealed to one another. The only sign that it had ever been broken was a mar on the one side of the crystal.

Vincent slammed the Necronomicon shut and dropped it back on the podium “Get rid of it. Please.”

Winter sent another blast of magic at the podium, and the snow sealed over the book and the snow pillar began to sink back into the floor. Outside, shimmering waves of the aurora borealis were visible in the sky. “Are we ready to leave then?” The ice wizard asked.

“Yes,” Vincent replied.

Winter nodded, and clapped his hands together again. The group disappeared. Outside, the aurora continued to ripple overhead.

Chapter Text

~300 Years Earlier

Vincent came out of his teleport in a forest at the foot of a mountain. The trees around him were decked in layers of white snow. A snow-topped sign nearby warned of the Winter Warlock’s domain. Vincent dropped the chest he was holding by one hand into the snow, and then carefully lowered the white-wrapped bundle he had over his left shoulder down to ground, bracing himself as he did. The snow was slick under his purple boots. This task accomplished, he straightened up, glared balefully at the castle in front of him, and shouted, “Winter Warlock!” His voice boomed in the cold air.

The warlock in question appeared a moment later in a cloud of snowflakes. “You needn’t shout, Vincent.” Winter let the sapling he had been holding vanish away. “What do you need?”

“I want to borrow your magic sleigh,” Vincent answered, his voice as cold as the air around them.

Winter waved his hand through the air briefly, and the sleigh, colored a slightly darker blue then the periwinkle of Winter’s mages robe, appeared behind Vincent. “There you are,” Winter announced, then noticed something. “Where’s your friend?”

“Dead,” Vincent ground out between his teeth. It didn’t feel right to say it. Even now, it felt like this was some bad dream that he would wake up from. After everything he and Mortifer had been through together…

But he knew this was reality, and he couldn’t wake up from it. “Mortifer is dead.”

Winter seemed taken aback by the news. “Vincent, I’m so sorry. Was it…?”

“Yes,” Vincent said shortly. “It was Asmodeus.” It wasn’t supposed to be Mortifer. That blast, Asmodeus’ last attempt at revenge, had been meant for Vincent, not Mortifer. That Mortifer had gotten in the way… Vincent recoiled from the thought. “Asmodeus was trying to kill me! Mortifer got in the way! I should have been able to save him!” The words, torn free, came out in a torrent. As though realizing what he had done, Vincent clamped his mouth shut.

“It isn’t your fault,” Winter said, his tone calm and even.

Vincent recoiled as though the other sorcerer had struck him across the face. “What do you mean by that?”

“You don’t own all the sins Asmodeus commits.” Winter repeated. Someday, Vincent would finally believe it, and like the winter wind itself, he could wait and bide his time until then. He had all the time in the world.

“I should have been able to do something about it!” Vincent insisted.

“Sometimes things go wrong, for no good reason,” Winter told him. “I know it hurts. Believe me, I know. But don’t let this make you bitter.”

Vincent looked away. “No one will get close to me again. It’s too dangerous.” What he meant, but didn’t say, was ‘I am too dangerous.’

Winter shook his head. “I know why you say that. You think it’s easier to be alone because you won’t be hurt again by the people around you. But you’re trying to walk a very lonely road, and there’s only one way to travel it. The further down it you walk, the further back you’ll have to walk. And you will walk back. Maybe not in a year, maybe not even in a century, but you will, someday.”

Vincent’s posture was defensive. “Do you want to make something of this with me?”

“No,” Winter said mildly. “I don’t want to fight you about it. And I’m not the one you want to fight anyway. The one you want to fight is presently locked up in that box.” He nodded at the Chest of Demons. “Send my sleigh back when you’re done with it. There’s no hurry.”

Vincent threw the Chest of Demons into the sleigh, and then carefully lifted Mortifer’s lifeless body in after it.

Winter watched as the now-loaded sleigh took off into the air, with Vincent steering it.

“Did you think,” a new voice behind the ice mage spoke up, “that maybe you should have pointed out to him that the mortal was always going to die someday?”

Winter turned and looked at Boris Kreepoff, who was standing on the ice staircase that led toward the front door. “No. What good what it do to bring that up? I thought Vincent was your friend. Why would you try and point that out to him? That Mortifer was human is hardly going to negate what’s happened in Vincent’s eyes.”

“Reality can be unfortunate,” Boris nearly snarled. “He’ll have to learn to deal with it.”

Winter cocked his head to one side. “Uh-huh. Well, on that note, I think you should go. By now!” He clapped his hands together and he and his ice castle disappeared, leaving Boris to fall into a snowbank.

Victor Voudini was in his study, peering into his palantír when he felt a familiar magic nearby. He turned to see Boris behind him, covered in snow. “Thought I’d drop in,” Boris muttered.

“What brings you by?” Victor asked.

“The sudden disappearance of that ice loon, mostly,” Boris said. “I didn’t even get to finish going through his library.” He walked over to the shelves of Victor’s study, looking for any books that he hadn’t seen the last time he was there. “Vincent came by while I was there. It seems that human friend of his is dead.”

Victor swung around. “What? What happened?”

Boris shrugged. “I haven’t any idea.”

“You didn’t ask?!”

“No.”

“Where is Vincent now?” Victor demanded.

“I don’t know that either.”

“Is there anything you do know?” Victor growled as he pulled his palantír back over and started scrying, trying to find Vincent.

“Someone should tell our illustrious friend that mortals don’t live forever.” Boris pointed out, his attention already back on the bookshelf. “He should have seen this coming.” Crack! Something struck him hard on the back of the head. He spun around to glare at Victor, who was now dressed in his white mage robes with its brown cloak, embellished with a second shoulder cape embroidered in silver. He was carrying his magic staff, and the glass globe framed by four spokes on top of it was what had hit Boris.

“Sorry,” Victor said dryly. “I didn’t see you coming. Do me a favor and be out of my castle before I get back.” Then he was gone.

When Victor came out of his teleport, he was standing in the Himalayas, on a mountain path. He held out his staff. The globe on top glowed a faint green, and he followed the glow out through the woods and up a winding trail that led further and higher up the mountain. The glow kept getting stronger the further he went along.

Finally he came out into a clearing. At the other end of a clearing, near a skinny, scraggly tree, was a tall stone monument.

Curled up at the base and side of the monument, a crystal ball still in his hands, was Vincent. He was still wearing his own mage’s robe. The warlock looked wrung out, and hadn’t even noticed Victor’s approach. Victor paused, hesitated, and then walked toward his friend.

Chapter Text

“So, Mr V, like, learn anything from the crystal?” Shaggy asked. He and Scooby were snacking on more globs of Maple Sugar Snow Candy. Flim-Flam and Scrappy had gone off to make their own batch of candy. Vincent as still examining the formerly broken crystal. Idesvigg was sitting on the table, looking at the crystal.

“I am still working on it,” Vincent announced, “a process that will be easier if you both could learn to chew a little more quietly.”

The pair grinned nervously. “Rsorry,” Scooby giggled.

In a smaller room nearby, Winter Warlock was hurriedly looking through a wall of cubbyholes and drawers. “Oh, here!” He pulled out a bottle of purple liquid. “A mana potion! I knew I had one. Take this with you. Vincent might need it.”

“Really, Mr. Warlock-”

“Winter,” the ice mage interrupted her.

“Winter,” Daphne corrected. “Really, you don’t need to do all this for us.”

“Oh, sure I do,” Winter said. “You’re going to face down Asmodeus. It’s my sworn duty to help!”

“Really?” Daphne repeated.

“Mmmm,” Winter shrugged. “Maybe not , but I want to help. Asamad was my friend once, before he was corrupted. And he goes out of his way to make Vincent as miserable as he can, which bothers me. Like I told you earlier, I don’t have many friends. I like to help the ones I have.” He pulled open a drawer and rifled through it. “Here, have a stub of a magic candle. It can help you! You can use it to transport yourself! Just light the candle, picture where you want to go, and walk forward.”

Daphne tucked the candle stub into one of the outer pockets of her messenger bag. Winter was already digging through another cubby. “And here! You might need this, too!” He came back with a skinny bottle that appeared to be filled with mist. “Magic mist! Guaranteed to provide cover from any magical troublemakers.” He handed the bottle to Daphne. “And I suppose being mortal, you will all need sustenance, so here.” Winter came out with a small box. “It’s a magic box that will provide food as needed when you open it.”

Daphne took the box and looked it. “Can it keep up with Shaggy and Scooby?”

Winter paused and thought it over. “Umm, good question.” It had not passed his notice that the quantity of maple syrup that he kept on hand had diminished considerably since the pair’s arrival. “Maybe have them pace themselves. And here! This magic flask will always refill! I filled it with water of course, because water makes snow and ice!”

A slender box of wood fell off one of the shelves, dislodged by Winter’s digging around. Daphne stopped to pick it up. “What’s this?”

Winter stopped to look at what she was holding. “Oh, that,” he went back to rummaging through the drawers. “It hold some enchanted blankets that will keep you comfortable. The box is enchanted too, so they all fit inside. I’m not sure what to do with it. You can take it with you if you want. I don’t know what good it will do, but I didn’t know what good my magic seed corn would do either and it ended up working for Kris, so, who knows. Just take it.”

Daphne shrugged and stuffed the box into her bag.

Winter was still rifling through drawers when they heard Vincent. “Winter? Where are you?”

“Coming!” Winter slammed the drawer shut and clapped his hands. He and Daphne reappeared in the front room. “You rang?”

“Yes, we’re ready to leave,” Vincent said. Scrappy and Flim-Flam had reappeared as well, still chewing the last bites of candy.

Idesvigg chirped. Vincent shook his head. “No, I’m afraid you’ll have to stay, Idesvigg.” The imp looked disappointed at this. Winter created a trail of snowflakes suspended in the air, like magic stepping stones. Idesvigg stepped across them, and took a seat on the winter mage’s left shoulder.

Winter clapped his hands together. “I will stop the blizzard for you.” He clapped again, and the roar outside the door ceased. Vincent turned and opened the door with a wave of his hand.

“Wow, this is amazing,” Daphne breathed as they walked out into the air. The wind had absolutely ceased, and the snowflakes were suspended in the air.

“Thanks for your help. Mr. Winter!” Scrappy said, trotting out after Daphne. The other trailed after him. Winter and Idesvigg brought up the rear.

“It’s no problem at all,” Winter told Scrappy. “Don’t be strangers. Go, and make the world safe again.” He and Vincent shared a glance, but whatever passed between them was left unsaid.

“You’ll have to come over for dinner after this,” Vincent told him.

Winter seemed taken aback. “Leave the castle? I only do that once a year.”

“You’ll have to make an exception,” Flim-Flam told him, before heaving up the Chest of Demons. “But first, let’s go find that Asmodeus and put him back where he belongs!” The words had just barely left his mouth when Asmodeus swooped down and snatched the Chest out of Flim-Flam’s hands and flew away. The Gang recoiled. Vincent looked shocked, Winter horrified.

Winter recovered first. In an instant he bent down and had made a crystal ball out of the snow. “Fly with the winter wind to guide you!” It was somewhere between a statement and an incantation. Mere seconds later, they were hurtling through the air, in a tunnel that looked to be made out of the Northern Lights, after Asmodeus.

When the group came out of the tunnel, they were standing outside a temple. The crystal ball came hurtling after them, glowing a pale periwinkle, and the tunnel of lights closed behind it. Vincent caught the crystal, and Winter appeared within it. “I tracked Asmoedus,” Winter reported. “And he went into this temple.”

“We must be back in the Himalayas,” Daphne said.

“It looks like the same kind of place where the Chest used to be before it was opened!” Scrappy added.

“Rwaht does rhe rwant rwith rit?” Scooby whimpered.

“He can’t open it,” Shaggy said.

“Yes, but as long as he holds the Chest, it can’t hold him,” Vincent pointed out.

Winter spoke again. “You’ll all have to stop him. I admit I’m not fond of the idea of him running the world. I am going back to the Boreal Pole and closing it behind me. I’ll take Idesvigg with me, and once the door is sealed behind me, no one will find it, and Asmodeus won’t find the Necronomicon.”

“The Necronomicon does not seem to be a very high priority right now,” Vincent noted.

“Not now, no,” Winter agreed. “But if you don’t succeed, it may become one for him in a hurry. Besides, you didn’t look through the book in any detail. Are you sure that Asamad doesn’t have a spell in there that will let him open the Chest even if he is undead?” Vincent seemed taken aback by the thought. Winter went on. “No one knows the exact nature of what he got up to while he was the World’s Greatest Warlock. And to the best of my knowledge, he’s the only one with any idea what is in that book. I’ll leave you with some of my ice magic. It might help you. Keep the wind at your back!” The blue glow around the crystal faded along with Winter’s image. The crystal floated back up into the air, and exploded suddenly into eight long diamonds of ice. In a swirl of wind, they curved through the air and hung themselves, neatly spaced, at the hem of Vincent’s purple cloak.

There was silence. The Gang and Vincent looked at each other. Then Vincent stepped forward and pushed the door open.

The other followed him inside.

“Wow, it really is just like the temple where the Chest of Demons used to be,” Scrappy said.

Another idea had occurred to Daphne. “How do we make sure that Asmodeus doesn’t double back and go right back out the way he came in?”

“Rwe’d rhave to seal the door,” Scooby said, and the group paused.

“I have an idea,” Flim-Flam announced. He reached down and snatched one of the ice crystals off Vincent’s cape, and threw it at the door. An explosion of snow ensured. It not only blocked the door, but started to fill the hallway, forcing them all to retreat further into the temple.

“Oops,” Flim-Flam said when they had stopped running. Vincent was glowering at him. He gave the warlock a nervous grin.

“Flim-Flam, how many time have I told you not to meddle with magic?!” The warlock demanded.

“On the bright side, no one will be able to get out now,” Scrappy announced.

“Yeah, including us,” Shaggy pointed out.

“Let’s find the Chest first,” Daphne suggested, “and we can worry about that afterward.”

The group moved along through the hallway, stopping to check the rooms that they passed. No one felt much like talking. The hallway finally let out into a courtyard, and there, on a stone table, sat the Chest.

“Oh boy! We found it!” Scrappy was jubilant. He hopped up on the railing of the balcony that overlooked the courtyard. “Let’s grab it and get out of here.”

“Wait!” Vincent reached out and grabbed the puppy before he could run off. “I want to make sure that Asmodeus isn’t around first.” He held up the crystal ball. The Gang knew when they saw the imperfection in the glass that it was the one that had just been repaired.

There was no reaction. Vincent frowned. “He’s not here.” He didn’t like it. The warlock tucked the crystal away and looked around, as though he would be able to spot Asmodeus lurking in the wings somewhere when the crystal clearly showed no trace of the monster in the area.

“Sounds like good news,” Shaggy suggested. But he was holding a shaking Scooby again, and his tone of voice suggested that as far as he was concerned it was not good news.

“Ah, let’s not worry about it,” Flim-Flam suggested.

“Yeah,” Scrappy added. “Let’s grab the Chest and get out of here before that big meanie comes back!”

Daphne didn’t look any more at ease with the situation then Shaggy and Scooby did. She looked at Vincent. “Mr. Van Ghoul?”

He met her glance and sighed. “I hope you’re right,” he said to Flim-Flam.

“Oh boy! Let’s go!” Scrappy exclaimed. He and Flim-Flam ran down into the courtyard and returned with the Chest.

“Like, we got the Chest. Let’s get outta here!” Shaggy suggested urgently.

“Good idea,” Daphne said. “Come on!” They hurried back the way they had come. They had barely gotten back into the hallway when the balcony they had just been on collapsed under an enormous fireball.

Scrappy glanced behind them. “Uh-oh.” Asmodeus was now flying after them.

“Were there any other doors out in this hallway?” Shaggy asked as they came to a stop by the pile of snow.

Vincent stepped forward. “Winter put this under my command, so,” he waved a hand over the snow.

Nothing happened.

“Despell!” He tried again.

But the snow remained unchanged.

“Uh, listen, Mr. V, I don’t want to pressure you or anything,” Shaggy looked back down the hall. There was an orange glow coming towards them. “But we’re about to have company!”

“It should work!” Vincent snapped. This was a trap, and they had walked right in. He cursed himself for not trusting his first judgment on the matter. He took a deep breath, and pulled out another crystal, this one without flaw. “Spirits of the Scorpio, reveal your powers, let them flow into this realm with heated glow, and melt this blasted icy snow!”

The crystal glowed gold for a moment, and then the glow faded.

Raucous laughter rang out behind them. “What’s the matter, Vincent?” Asmodeus taunted. “No powers?” He kept striding towards then, bathed in an eerie orange aura.

“Powers,” Vincent realized. He straightened up and threw the crystal at Asmodeus. It hit the floor in front of the monster’s feet and broke in an explosion of light.

It was cold. Daphne stirred and sat up. “What…?” She trailed off as she looked around. They were all outside, on a snowy hill somewhere. Everyone was starting to stir, except…

where was Vincent?

“Where are we?” She heard Flim-Flam ask.

“Zoinks!” Shaggy’s voice was a cry of alarm. “L-l-l-ook!” He pointed toward a peak, that seemed so close it looked like it was on the next mountain over. Daphne did a double take at the castle on that peak, and gasped.

It was Vincent’s castle.

They were all staring at it now. “We’re back in the Himalayas,” Scrappy said.

“And practically on Vince’s doorstep,” Flim-Flam was looking around. “Where’s Vince, anyway?”

There was a chiming sound. Daphne stopped and pulled the Crystal Ball that Winter had given her out. It was Vincent.

“Mr. V! Where are you?” Shaggy asked.

“I am still here. I didn’t have enough power in the crystal to get us all out,” Vincent admitted.

“Roh no!” Scooby wailed.

“It’s up to you all now to stop Asmodeus. You’ll figure something out. You always do,” Vincent said calmly.

“No way! We need you to help us,” Flim-Flam said.

“I’m sorry, Flim-Flam. I can’t now. I’ll hold him off as long as I can, and of course, the protection spells on the castle will keep you safe for a time. You’ve stopped twelve of the ghosts already. You’ll think of a way to stop Asmoedeus too. I believe in you.” A wave of red magic rolled across the glass, and the connection was dropped.

After that, there was only stunned silence and the starlight out overhead.

“What do we do now?” Scrappy finally asked. Even he sounded shocked.

“Rhi don’t know,” Scooby moaned.

“How could Vince do that?” Flim-Flam wanted to know.

Daphne was looking at the castle, a silent sentinel on a lonely mountaintop. Then her keys, inexplicably, fell from one of the outer pockets on her bag. She stooped and picked them up, and then looked at them again. “Flim-Flam, do you think you could find the way back to the village where you were staying when we found you?”

“Sure. Why?”

“Because,” Daphne tightened her hand on her keys. “We’re going back to get Vincent, and that’s our first stop.”

Scrappy’s face broke into a grin. Even Scooby and Shaggy looked relieved.

“Well what are we waiting for?” Flim-Flam demanded. “Let’s get goin’!”

And unnoticed by any of them, a ghost standing nearby, who had just managed to get the keys out of Daphne's bag, smiled.

The blemished crystal dropped from Vincent’s hands. He clutched his emerald pendant, it’s center now glowing red, as he dropped to his knees. The warlock was still on his knees, teeth grit from pain and holding his emerald when Asmodeus landed and started towards him.

“You resist me,” Asmodeus noted.

“Of course I do,” Vincent reached out and grabbed the Chest of Demons, sliding it behind him.

“Give me the Chest,” Asmodeus ordered, coming to a stop a few feet away from the warlock.

“Why?” Vincent ground out. “You can’t open it. Only the living can. I guess you can’t get rid of me yet.”

Asmodeus gave a low, chilling chuckle. “Oh, I don’t plan to get rid of you. Not yet, anyway.” He chuckled again as he walked forward. Vincent reached down and snapped another crystal from his cape. He flung it at the monster. It impacted and froze Asmodeus.

But Vincent knew it wouldn’t last. It would inconvenience the monster, nothing more. He pushed himself to his feet, heft the Chest up, and stumbled into the interior of the temple.

Chapter Text

The astral plane was not a place that Vincent had ever spent much time in, though in his travels through the centuries, he had met those who liberally used astral projection and the astral plane to accomplish their objectives.

It was certainly not a place he would have chosen to try and fight Asmodeus, but he hadn’t gotten a choice in that matter. “Reflect!” His magic still worked here in mostly the same way that it did in the physical world. His shield deflected Asmodeus’ blast, but the monster plowed into him and knocked him back.

He was exhausted. He had no idea how long he had been here, and Asmodeus had been unrelenting. The only thing that he had to hold on to was that the kids were safe. He had seen to the that.

Asmodeus was on him again. He fired a blast of light magic, and then another one, at the monster, but Asmoedus darted out round them and flung a fireball at him. Vincent was forced to deflect it, and in the explosion that was held off by his Reflect Barrier, he missed Asmodeus’ approach until the monster was in front of him.

Asmoedus lunged out and grabbed Vincent by the throat. “You never do learn, do you? You know you can not stand against me.”

“Yes, and that’s the story of how you won the last time you were freed,” Vincent snarked, trying to get Asmodeus’ hand off his throat. His emerald pendant started to glow green, and a moment later, he was surrounded in a green aura.

Asmodeus laughed. “This time, I win,” he replied, attacking Vincent with his own magic. The red that had been lurking in the emerald ever since their last encounter came back to the forefront, and Asmodeus’ dark red aura started to surround and overcome Vincent’s green one.

Asmodeus smiled. This was his best plan of all. Who needed to be worried about opening a box when you could rip someone’s soul from their body and take over their body for them? Nothing would stand in his way if this worked, not with Vincent’s impressive magical powers which would soon be at his disposal. “Forget the light forever!”

After a brief struggle, Vincent’s arms fell to his side, limp, and his green aura was washed over in red as his eyes closed. The last thing he heard was Asmodeus’ laughter.

“See? I told you I could get us in,” Flim-Flam said, corking the bottle of Lotsa Luck Joy Juice as he and the others walked into the temple, the snow that had blocked the way formerly now melted. “Good thing there were still some bottles of this in the van.”

“I wonder how we never noticed that that those were in there,” Scrappy said.

“Never mind that now. We’ve got to find Vincent,” Daphne told them. “Let’s split up Gang!”

“Like, how did I know you were going to say that?” Shaggy asked. “Well. Come on Scrappy.”

“Ryeah. Rwe’ll go rthis rway,” Scooby added.

“And we’ll check this wing,” Daphne said as she and Flim-Flam set off in the other direction.

Shaggy and the dogs made their way through the temple slowly and cautiously. Their goal was only to find Vincent, not to attract Asmodeus’ attention. Even Scrappy was unusually quiet. He knew as well as the others that by themselves against Asmodeus they didn’t stand much of a chance.

All the rooms that they had looked in so far had been empty. They were alarmed in spite of this to see that some of the rooms bore evidence that fights had taken place there, though how long ago was hard to tell. One room was full of broken pottery and there was some snow stuck to one wall. Another showed evidence of something having been on fire, though there was no fire burning when they looked, just blackened rugs and scorched walls.

At the next room, when Shaggy pushed the door to open it, it fell in, a chunk of the stone door frame fell down with it. The room beyond was so trashed it was hard to tell what any of the debris that littered the floor was supposed to represent.

Scooby started to whimper nervously. Scrappy looked uneasy. Shaggy gulped. “Come on,” he managed to get out finally, “Vincent’s gotta be here somewhere. Let’s get him and go before that creep turns back up.”

Now more unsettled in mind than they had been before, the three retraced their steps to the hallway and kept going.

They had almost reached the end of the hall before they went through a doorway and into a wide room with a tall ceiling, full of some kind of tall, ornamental vases. What they were for, neither Shaggy nor the dogs could guess.

When they rounded the corner on one of the pots, though, they saw Vincent, still in his blue mage’s robe, lying on the floor. The Chest of Demons was lying nearby.

“Vincent!” Shaggy called as they all ran toward him. Only Scrappy held back. He had noticed strange dark red lines on the floor, in an odd pattern that almost reminded him of a spiderweb. Vincent was lying in the center of them.

“Gimme a hand here, Scoob!” Shaggy said, pulling Vincent up. Scooby walked onto the red lines and sat down, his face to the wall. Shaggy leaned Vincent against the Great Dane’s back. “Scrappy, go get Daphne and Flim-Flam!”

“Right!” The puppy turned and scampered back the way they had come as fast as he could move.

Shaggy shook the warlock. “Come on Vincent! This is no time for a nap! You gotta wake up!”

There was no reaction. Scooby realized this and started to whimper again.

“Come on, Vince! You can’t let this guy win!” Shaggy protested. “And we can’t do this without you! Wake up!”

It was entirely possible that any number of things could go wrong when one was on the astral plane. The most common risk was that the longer one was separated from one’s body, the harder it was to find the way back to it.

Another risk was that someone could follow one into the astral plane and try to sever the tie between soul and spirit, causing the astral walker to die in the real world.

It was this second risk, Vincent realized, distantly as his soul and spirit were now on the brink of being severed from one another and he could feel very little at this point, that Asmodeus intended to put to good use. He was moving on from the astral plane now, into a world that seemed to be filled with clouds.

So this was the path to the afterlife.

A golden portal was up ahead of him, and he was on a straight track to reach it. As he noticed this, he also noticed a familiar figure in front of him.

Mortifer.

Of course. His best friend would now return to be his psychopomp.

Mortifer reached out toward him, and started to say something. Whatever it was, Vincent couldn’t hear. He watched, feeling dull and stupid, as Mortifer mouthed the same words over and over, all the while holding him back. Then he realized what his friend was trying to say.

Go back.

Mortifer pointed past him. Vincent turned, just enough to see behind him. The clouds had parted, and he could see Shaggy and Scooby there, working over his prone body. He felt a spike of fear, though still distantly.

Mortifer was still blocking his way, still mouthing the same words over and over. Go back.

Go back.

But he didn’t know how to get back.

Daphne and Flim-Flam came running into the room, trailed by Scrappy. Flim-Flam wasted no time, racing over to the sorcerer. “Vince! Vince! Wake up!”

Daphne paused. She had noticed the red lines all over the floor, and like Scrappy, had noticed that they appeared to be a spiderweb, in Asmodeus’ red magic. And if Vincent wasn’t the predator…

...that made him the prey.

Daphne swallowed hard and moved forward, wondering what she had in the tiny first aid kit in her bag that could help with this. She could come up with nothing. She knelt on the red line and reached out for Vincent’s wrist, checking for a pulse. There was one, though faint.

Flim-Flam and Shaggy were still trying their best to wake Vincent, with no luck. Flim-Flam’s hand happened to brush over Vincent’s emerald pendant, and the red lines started to glow with a dark and dim light. Then the three of them slumped over, unconscious and as deathly still as Vincent was.

“Rhaggy!” Scooby cried.

Scrappy looked horrified. He hurried over to Shaggy and started to shake him. “Shaggy! Come on! You gotta wake up!”

Asmodeus had been so sure of his victory that he hadn’t been paying attention to what had being going on around him. He had also been sure that no one could follow them into the astral plane.

So he was not expecting Shaggy to come crashing into him, knocking his grip on Vincent loose, and sending him plunging downward in the wide expanse of the astral plane.

The sudden disconnect jerked Vincent’s soul and spirit back together, and, now whole, he reached out instinctively and caught Shaggy before he could follow Asmodeus down.

“Vincent! Like boy am I glad to see you!” Shaggy said.

Vincent was staring at him incredulously. “If you’re here, then …” he trailed off as he heard the sounds of Daphne and Flim-Flam falling into the astral plane. “Levitate.” He cast the spell and stopped the other two from descending any further.

“How did you all come to be here?” Vincent asked.

“We came back to get you!” Flim-Flam retorted. “We weren’t just going to leave you behind. What do you take us for?”

“I meant,” Vincent interrupted. “how did you get into the astral plane?”

The three looked at each other and shrugged. “But now that we’ve found you, we’ve got to get back out of here,” Daphne said.

“How do we do that?” Shaggy wanted to know.

Vincent considered it. “How long have you all been here?”

“Maybe two or three minutes,” Daphne suggested as Shaggy and Flim-Flam nodded. “It hasn’t been that long.”

“Then here’s what I need you to do,” Vincent said. “Join hands. We need to make a circle.”

This was quickly accomplished. “Now, focus on that last moment before you where here.” Vincent instructed. “Keep the scene right in front of you.”

They began to move through the astral plane, in a sort of controlled fall. “You’ll feel a little strange when you wake up from this,” Vincent warned. Below them was a brilliant yellow light in a completely different nature from the light he had seen earlier. The speed of their fall began to increase.

Scrappy had not been sure what to do, other then to stand by and be ready to protect the Chest if needed. Scooby hadn’t moved either, instead staying to support Vincent, even though the others were now lying on the floor themselves.

Asmodeus was nowhere around, and Scrappy wasn’t sure if this was a good thing or something he ought to be concerned about. He hoped Asmodeus would stay away. He and his uncle had enough trouble as it was.

Then he saw something. The lines on the floor were changing color, from red to green.

All at once Daphne, Flim-Flam and Shaggy sat up, gasping and breathing hard from the shock of their sudden return. Vincent, who had been away from his body the longest, came back with no noise of shock. Instead, he stirred and put a hand to his head. The Gang reoriented themselves and wasted no time locking Vincent into a hug, which he returned as best as he could.

“You’re back!” Scrappy was so excited he was jumping up and down, and then he jumped into Flim-Flam’s arms. “We were really worried!”

“Ryeah! Rwe Rwere!” Scooby agreed, thumping his tail on the floor as best as he could.

“And Vincent! You’re back too!” Scrappy’s tail was wagging as hard as he could make it.

“I am,” Vincent said quietly, his voice rough. “Thanks to the efforts of you all.”

“Gimme a hand, Daphne,” Shaggy said, and between them they helped Vincent to his feet. Flim-Flam grabbed the Chest of Demons.

Daphne was struggling to get the magic candle out of her bag. She had just gotten it out and Flim-Flam had just lit it with a match when Asmodeus appeared in front of them.

“You insolent fools!” he thundered.

“You got that in one,” Scrappy retorted.

“Leave the warlock and go, and I’ll spare your lives.”

“No way!” Daphne shot back. “We'll never do that!”

“Yeah! Vincent’s coming with us!” Flim-Flam added. Scrappy had darted behind the warlock. There were still two ice crystals left on his cloak from the magic the Winter Warlock had given him. Scrappy pulled both of them off and came back to hand one to Flim-Flam. Then he darted back to the front of the group and flung the crystal at Asmodeus.

The monster darted out of the way, which put him right in the patch of the second crystal that Flim-Flam threw. Asmodeus found himself frozen in place.

Shaggy used his free arm to grab the puppy and hold him tightly as Flim-Flam grabbed Daphne’s arm, very carefully to avoid jostling the candle. Scooby clamped his teeth on the back of Shaggy’s jacket. Their next stop would be the van, which was parked in the forest nearby.

“Now!” Daphne said, and they all took one step forward, teleporting out of the temple, leaving Asmodeus behind.

Chapter Text

The tall tower of vases fell over, pinning Asmodeus underneath them.

“Now let’s see who this monster really is!” Daphne announced, stepping forward. She pulled Asmodeus’ head off – but it was a mask, and underneath… Vincent took a step back involuntarily.

“It’s someone we don’t know!” Shaggy announced.

But Vincent did know the person in the costume. “Mortifer.”

“Hello, Vincent,” Mortifer said coolly.

“How? I saw you die!”

“You thought you saw me die,” Mortifer said, standing back up. The vases fell away as though they were made of air. “I was waiting. Biding my time.”

The math, Vincent thinks, doesn’t add up. It’s been some three hundred years since Mortifer died. And Mortifer had no magic of his own to prolong his life.

The Gang was gone now, and the scene had changed, to a forest.

“Ever since my life was cut short, by your ancestor, I’ve waiting for the perfect time to take my revenge on you,” Mortifer said, walking towards Vincent, who found himself backing up. This isn’t the Mortifer he used to know, back when they traveled all over the world together. He doesn’t know this person who is coming toward him.

He stumbled over a root, and then there was a tree at his back.

Vincent found he couldn’t move. He was tied to the tree.

No! Not again!

Mortifer, still dressed in his costume of Asmodeus, was standing there, a torch in one hand. Vincent was struggling not to give in to panic.

In his darkest nightmares, this night comes back to him sometimes. There’s wood and straw around his feet that wasn’t there before.

No! It’s just a dream! It couldn’t be anything else.

Woof.

“Now, the Chest of Demons will be mine, and I can do what I want with it. You can die, like you should have all those years ago. I don’t know what I was thinking, jumping in the way like that. You’re pathetic. Just pathetic. And to think, I counted you a friend.”

“I never wanted you to die!” Vincent snapped. “I wanted to save you!” And he felt the weight of the statement, even as he said it. What if Asmodeus hurt the kids this time? He’d already tried.

Woof.

“What you wanted, in the end, didn’t really matter, did it?” Mortifer mused. “I was the one who ended up paying.”

No, Vincent wanted to say. You died, and your suffering ended. I suffered with the weight of what happened, for centuries after that. But he knows it doesn’t compare. Mortifer died in a horrific way. He doesn’t say it, no matter how much he wants to.

“It should have been you,” Mortifer went on.

There’s no good way Vincent can think to argue that point. It is the truth, after all. “Yes.”

Mortifer have him a malicious smile. “Now it can be!” He said, and dropped the torch in the straw at Vincent’s feet.

“No!”

Vincent snapped awake. For a moment, the dream left disoriented, and it took him a minute to recall where he was. The red van. They had gone back to the van, and hid out there, enabled to do so by the many magic goods that Winter had insisted that Daphne take. The magic mist had hidden the van. The mana potion had been restorative after all the time Vincent had spent away from his body. There was even food and water, from magic containers, though Shaggy and Scooby had had to wait and eat last. Vincent, feeling somewhat recovered after the position, had offered to alter the box’s magic so they could get more food from it and more quickly. This idea had been roundly protested by the others, and so Vincent had not meddled with the box.

There had been small container of blankets and pillows, enhanced with magic to store everything in it. It seemed like the sort of pointless thing that Winter would come up with. He had an uncanny knack for pointless magical experiments that would come in handy, as Vincent had learned the first time he had stopped by the ice mage’s castle with Mortifer in tow. Winter had laden them both down with magical items from his storeroom, including one that Winter had invented, a bottle of perfume that, when applied, allowed a person to be temporarily turned invisible. (“And it wears off after ten minutes!” Winter had announced excitedly, before adding in a more subdued tone, “but I don’t have any idea what good it could do.”) It had come in very handy later that afternoon.

The only problem with the contents of that box had been that there had not been enough blankets for everyone. Vincent had changed back and was in his evening suit, and had volunteered his cape to serve as a blanket.

Woof. The sound that had eventually called Vincent back from his dream, and he turned to see that Scrappy was making movements like he was chasing something in his sleep. He reached over and rubbed the puppy’s back. Scrappy snuffled and turned before worming his way, still asleep, over to Flim-Flam and curling up against the boy’s arm. Scrappy sighed and was sleeping soundly again in seconds. Vincent carefully folded his cape over the pair. Flim-Flam and Scrappy had ended up having to use Vincent’s cape as their blanket. The warlock was too tall for one of the blankets from the box to cover him completely, and he had tried to get by with just his cape before that idea, too, had been roundly rejected by the kids. Instead, he had turned his cape horizontally, so that he could share that at least with Flim-Flam and Scrappy, and used the other blanket to cover his legs.

On the other side of the van, not that there was that much room to really spread out, Shaggy was asleep against the door, with Scooby next to him. They had been sharing a blanket, and had started out by sharing a pillow, but at some point during the night Scooby had ended up with the pillow entirely, and Shaggy was using his arm as a pillow.

Daphne had laid the passenger’s seat back as far as it would go. It came down next to Shaggy, though it wouldn’t go perfectly flat. She had spent the night using it as an impromptu bed. The others had been trying to get Vincent to use it, until he pointed out to them that there was no way he could be comfortable on that.

Vincent set his pillow in front of Shaggy, figuring that if the beatnik woke up, even briefly, he would find it. He stopped to pull Daphne’s blanket up so her arm wasn’t exposed, and then quietly transported himself out of the van.

The first gray light of dawn was just in the sky. And he had finally realized why he recognized this place. In the haze of the night before, he hadn’t been able to figure it out, but now he remembered.

Outside, in the cold morning air, he stopped and thought it over. Last time he had come here, in fact, most times when he came here, he wore his mage’s robe. He transformed himself, and set off down a disused path that led further into the woods, up the side of the mountain.

Scrappy wasn’t sure what had woken him. The light on the horizon, visible through the windshield now that the magic mist the Winter Warlock had given them had dissipated, was a streaky pink that promised a bright and sunny day later.

Scrappy sat up, stretched, and looked around. Everyone was still in their places from last night. Everyone, he realized after a moment, except Vincent. He turned and shook Flim-Flam. “Flim-Flam!” He hissed. “Get up!”

Flim-Flam muttered something intelligible and rolled over to try and go back to sleep. But Scrappy wouldn’t let him. “Come on! Get up!” Scrappy hissed. “Vincent’s gone!”

That was enough to rouse Flim-Flam. With a sigh he got up, picked up Vincent’s cape and Scrappy and carefully clambered over the front seat and out the door.

Once they were outside and far enough away from the van, he said, “I guess we gotta find ‘im then.”

“Shouldn’t we wake the others?” Scrappy asked.

“Nah, Maybe he just wanted to make sure we were still safe,” Flim-Flam said, setting Scrappy in the hood of his hoodie and wrapping Vincent’s cape around them both. The morning air was still chilly. “He wanted to check the place out last night, remember?”

“I guess that’s true,” Scrappy admitted. “He was kind of annoyed with us for stopping him from doing it, too.”

“He didn’t need to be out walking around,” Flim-Flam dismissed the puppy’s concern. “He needed a break. Let’s look for him, and if we can’t find him we’ll get the others then.”

Scrappy started sniffing the air. “I think I know where Vincent went, too!”

“Alright! Let’s go!”

The path Vincent was on opened into a clearing, and in the middle of it, under what was now a tall and strong-looking tree, was a stone monument. Time had worn it down, but it still displayed the clear, raised letters and symbols on it.

Vincent walked over to it, and knelt down in front of it, running a hand over the raised letters: Mortifer Quinch.

“I...it’s been a while, I know,” he started. “Things have been...busy.” There had been no time to come here in the last two years, not when he had spent nearly every waking moment trying to find the kids.

“The kids know what happened the last time we fought Asmodeus,” Vincent said, his hand still on the name. Winter was right, he realized, though he would never admit it to the other warlock. He should have told them what had happened sooner. “I think you would have liked the kids.”

He remembered how, when Flim-Flam had first shown up half-frozen on the doorstep, the first thing that Flim-Flam had brought up when he recovered from nearly freezing to death had been to tell Vincent that he had heard that Vincent was a magician, and that he wanted to learn magic too.

This had happened once before, and Vincent’s mouth had twitched into a half-smirk when he heard that. He had opened his hands to reveal a fireball, and with a twirl of his fingers, turned it into a wide ring of fire that touched all the candles in the tall ornate holders in the room, lighting all of them. He opened his hand and let the flame disappear, and then turned back to the boy.

Vincent had expected the usual slack-jawed shock and awe, the stammering, begging pardon, that the boy would leave as soon as he was able too. He knew that the monks in the nearby temples warned travelers to avoid his castle and his mountain, and he preferred it that way.

But instead of shock or awe, Flim-Flam was staring at him with wide-eyed wonder. “You’re a real magician!” he had said, and Vincent was instantly reminded of a moment, hundreds of years earlier, when Mortifer had had the exact same reaction when Vincent showed off his powers, and had said almost the same thing.

“Yes,” Vincent said in a low tone to the silent stone in front of him. “You would have liked the kids.”

And though he didn’t notice it, or feel the hand on his shoulder, a ghostly hand came to rest on his left shoulder, and the ghost that stood there said, “yes, I do like them.”

Flim-Flam and Scrappy had trailed Vincent up the mountain and came out into the same clearing that Vincent had crossed earlier that morning. The sun was lightening the horizon into broad bands of pink and orange.

“Look! It’s Mr. V!” Scrappy announced, in his excitement slipping back into the nickname that Shaggy had given the warlock so long ago. He tried to jump out of Flim-Flam’s hood, intending to race across the clearing to greet Vincent.

Flim-Flam caught him and held him tightly. Scrappy started to squirm, but Flim-Flam didn’t let go. “Wait!” he hissed, and Scrappy stopped fighting to get down.

“What is it?”

Flim-Flam looked out at the scene in front of them. “Vince needs...some alone time,” he said, not sure how to tell Scrappy what he was seeing.

He didn’t remember his parents, but he had been in the orphanage long enough to learn what grief looked like, and that was what he was seeing now.

“Just give him a minute, okay?”

Chapter Text

When Vincent took his hand off the tombstone, Flim-Flam started across the clearing, still holding Scrappy, and making sure that he made noise as he walked.

Vincent heard them coming. He got to his feet and turned, but he didn’t say anything as they came toward him.

“Morning, Vince!” Flim-Flam said cheerily, as though they hadn’t come across Vincent standing in front of the grave of his old friend.

“Good morning Flim-Flam, Scrappy,” the warlock returned politely.

Scrappy hopped down and marched over to him. “We got worried when we woke up and you weren’t there. We’re glad you’re okay!”

Vincent smiled, in spite of himself. “Yes, I am fine,” he assured them.

“But what if Asmodeus had been around!” Scrappy went on. “Something might have happened to you and we wouldn’t have even known!”

“Yeah, Vince, he’s been getting the drop on you pretty good lately,” Flim-Flam pointed out. “Why can’t you get the drop on him?”

“Because he’s an ancient powerful malevolent spirit who uses the blood ties between him and I against me,” Vincent’s answer was almost flippant.

“I mean, yeah, but doesn’t that mean that you can use that against him the way he uses it against you?” Flim-Flam asked, and Vincent was startled. “I mean, he messes with your magic, why can’t you mess with his?”

“That is a thought worth considering,” Vincent admitted.

Flim-Flam grinned as he pulled off and offered the warlock his cape. “Need this back?”

Vincent took the offered garment, and as he flung it around his shoulders, his mage robe was replaced by his evening suit.

“You know Vince, you could update your wardrobe,” Flim-Flam told him.

Vincent raised an eyebrow. “And what is wrong with my wardrobe?”

“It makes you look stiff and formal! Why don’t you try something new?”

“Something new?” Vincent's tone was cool now, but Flim-Flam pressed on, certain now that Vincent was no longer dwelling on the past and instead focused on the conversation.

“Sure, why not! Something still classy but a little less formal. Maybe a nice waistcoat. I got an idea...”

It had been something of a surprise to Daphne and Shaggy to wake up and find that half of the group was gone.

“It can’t be anything that serious, right?” Shaggy asked as he and Daphne followed Scooby, who was sniffing the ground and leading them up the path that Vincent, and then Flim-Flam, had taken. “I mean, if it was, they woulda woke us up!”

“I guess you’re right,” Daphne admitted. “But I’ll feel better when we find them.”

“Rme too,” Scooby paused his sniffing to look back at them.

“Know where they are?” Shaggy asked him.

Scooby pointed ahead on the trail “Rthat raway!”

“Lead the way, then,” Daphne told him, and Scooby set off again, the other two trailing behind him.

“See? It’s a good change!” Flim-Flam said.

Vincent did not seem convinced. “It’s a little...”

“More relaxed?” Flim-Flam offered.

Vincent sighed. “That’s a way to describe it.” He summoned his cape back, fastening it on with his emerald brooch.

Shaggy, Scooby, and Daphne came into the clearing just then. “There you all are! We were worried!” Daphne said.

“Rhare ryou rokay?” Scooby asked.

“We’re fine, Uncle Scooby!” Scrappy reported cheerfully.

Shaggy noticed something. “Nice clothes, Vincent.”

“Thank you,” Vincent sighed. “I was encouraged to try something new.” He had changed his evening suit for black pants and a black long-sleeved shirt. His vest was edged around the arms and chest with white to offset it, as it was also black, but embroidered all over with interlocking purple circles, and smaller circles of purple in between the connected loops. His cravat was red, and he wore his emerald pendant and held his cape on with the matching brooch.

“It’s a good look for you! Shaggy insisted.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Vincent didn’t seem convinced.

Scooby, having found Vincent and the others, and assured that they were alright, was now worrying at the pocket on Daphne’s bag that held what had been dubbed the Magic Food Box. He pulled it out, and was immediately surrounded by Flim-Flam and Scrappy, who were now looking for breakfast. As with the night before, the box was still limited at the rate it could magically regenerate food, leading to a very small breakfast for the trio.

Vincent noticed and reached over for the box. “Allow me.” Unlike the night before, no one made a move to stop him as he manipulated the magic of the box.

Shaggy and Daphne had stopped to watch. “Like, that Winter Warlock is pretty good at magic boxes,” Shaggy noted. “All the blankets, and the Magic Food Box.”

“He told me he didn’t have any idea what good the magic blanket box would do,” Daphne told him.

“Winter excels at achievements in ignorance,” Vincent told her, handing the box back to Scooby. “He’s always coming up with something magical that he can’t think of any use for.”

“Hey, Vince, come get some food!” Flim-Flam called, and Vincent turned his attention back to the trio who were eating.

Daphne had noticed the monument nearby, and walked closer to investigate. She started when she saw the name on the monument: Mortifer Quinch.

On top of the monument, and at the four points at the base, were glass globes that recalled to mind Vincent’s crystal ball.

Shaggy came over and stood next to her. They took in the monument in silence. Shaggy finally ventured, in a low voice. “I didn’t know that we had come to a cemetery.” Left unsaid between them was that they had followed Flim-Flam and Scrappy, who had in turn followed Vincent, who had been the one to lead them all here.

“Look,” Daphne said quietly. “Above the name.”

Shaggy squinted at the stone. “I can’t see anything.”

“It’s a torch. An upside down torch. Look closer!” Daphne pointed out the raised relief, and this time Shaggy was able to see the shape.

“I helped one of my colleagues at the magazine do research on old tombstones,” Daphne said quietly. “On a gravestone, the inverted torch symbolizes a life snuffed out, or cut short. There’s no flame on the torch, so it symbolizes mourning, too.”

The conversation lapsed, as both of them realized who would have built this monument and the significance of it.

“Let’s get some breakfast,” Shaggy said finally, and the two of them turned away from the tombstone and went back to join the others.

The sun was coming up over the horizon and it was promising to be a beautiful day. Shaggy, Scooby, and Scrappy had been regaling the others with the story of Revolta’s evil plans to use against the Grimwood girls to bring the world of monsters under her control.

“But Tanis got the wand back just in time!” Scrappy finished excitedly, his breakfast all but forgotten in his enthusiasm to retell the tale. “And she threw it into the fireplace and short circuited.”

“And nearly blew the whole castle up underneath us,” Shaggy interjected, opening the Food Box for a third helping.

“But the Calloway Cadets showed up and helped us escape in the nick of time!” Scrappy finished.

“Sounds like an exciting time,” Flim-Flam said, his voice betraying a little jealousy that they had been off having adventures at a school full of monsters while he had been running a store.

“I have encountered Revolta before,” Vincent admitted to them.

“Ryou rhave?” Scooby asked.

“Centuries ago now. She always claimed to be descended from Arachne,” Vincent said. “I always thought she was making that up to claim a great ancestry.”

“Like, I wish you had been there when we had to face her!” Shaggy admitted.

“Rme too,” Scooby added.

Just then a noise like a clap of thunder ensued, and the group was instantly on their feet.

“I think we’ve been followed!” Shaggy gulped, as Asmodeus landed in front of them.

“But how?” Scrappy asked. No one answered.

“Get out of the way,” Vincent ordered, and it dawned on the gang that he was talking to them. They scrambled aside as Vincent walked forward.

“Back to face me again, are we?” Asmodeus snarled, opening his hand to reveal a fireball that went out just as quickly, leaving him stunned. He glanced at his hand, and then at Vincent.

The warlock stared Asmodeus down as he attempted, again, the fling a fireball with the same results. “What’s wrong, Asmodeus?” Vincent’s tone was mocking. “No powers?” He didn’t give the demon a chance to reply. “Diaga!”

Asmodeus darted back out of the way of the blast, snarling with rage as he did. Vincent didn’t waste the advantage. His first blast was followed by several more, each driving Asmodeus further back from him. “Temporal chains!”

The long fingers of green magic reached out of the ground and wrapped around Asmodeus, holding him in place.

“I will not be defeated by you!” Asmodeus’ voice was everything but a scream, and he glowed with a red aura as he managed to get his magic working and ripped Vincent’s magic apart.

Vincent, unwilling to back down and lose the advantage, tried again. Asmodeus batted the tentacles of green magic away before they wrap around him and turned to face Vincent, eyes glowing red with magic and fury. “Temporal chains,” he hissed, almost too low to hear, and Vincent instantly found himself caught in magical bindings, his arms secured firmly to his sides. Asmodeus waved a hand, and Vincent was lifted into the air and brought over to the ghost.

“Now,” Asmodeus turned his still-glowing eyes on the Gang. “Bring me the Chest of Demons. Or you can all watch while Vincent dies.”

Shaggy and Scooby were clinging to each other shaking. Scrappy had been ready to charge in to help Vincent, but Flim-Flam had grabbed him at the last second and was holding him back. Daphne looked appalled. But she could think of nothing else to do.

“Shaggy, Scooby, get the Chest,” Daphne said.

“You gotta be kidding, right?” Shaggy asked.

“There’s nothing else we can do,” she admitted bleakly.

Asmodeus laughed, and now Flim-Flam, Scrappy, and Daphne found themselves tied up in the red magic chains and lifted into the air too, a fact that did not to ease Shaggy or Scooby’s fears.

“Bring me the Chest,” Asmodeus told them, and the low even tone he said it in was a bigger threat than it would have been if he had been screaming at them.

“Okay, alright, you win!” Shaggy admitted.

“Rwe’ll get the Rchest,” Scooby added in a whimper, and then the two of them turned and ran back down the path they had come up earlier that morning, a little while ago when anything good had seemed possible.

They made it back to the red van in record time. Shaggy was sure that they had never run so fast before, not even when a monster was hot on their tails. He flung the rear doors of the van open. “Grab the Chest, Scoob!”

Scooby hopped into the back of the van and came to a sudden stop. There, sitting on the Chest of Demons, was a ghost.

“Oh, not this Chest,” the ghost told them, pushing the edge of the ancient and stained sheet that Daphne had covered the Chest with the night before all the way over it. “Take that one,” he indicated another box, almost identical except for a splotch of black paint that was out of place on the front of the box.

“Rhaggy!” Scooby leaped back out of the van. “Ra ghost!”

“I know Scoob!” Shaggy was not paying attention to the ghost still seated on the Chest of Demons. He was looking back the way that they had come. “And he’s got Daphne and the others! Hurry and get the Chest!”

Scooby whimpered some more as he looked back into the van. The ghost was still sitting there. He pointed at the other Chest, and Scooby pulled it out.

Shaggy didn’t notice the ghost as he shut the doors. Nor did he notice the black splotch on the front of the Chest as he helped Scooby pick it up. “Let’s go back and get the others.”

They made it back to the clearing in record time, but hesitated when they arrived, not wanting to approach.

“Bring that here,” Asmodeus ordered, his tone still icy.

Shivering, the two of them walked over and set the box down. As they did, Vincent realized that this was not the Chest of Demons, though it was a pretty close resemblance.

“Open it!” Asmodeus commanded.

“If...if you insist,” Shaggy managed to get out, and he and Scooby reached forward to open the box. When the lid was opened, the Vacuu-Spook 2000 came on, and Asmodeus, in spite of his efforts to get out of the way, was caught in the suction and sucked into the Trap Chest.

When he was contained, the magic that was restraining the others disappeared. They fell back to the ground. Shaggy had slammed the lid shut on the Trap Chest.

And in the clearing, there was silence.

Chapter Text

Daphne, Shaggy, and Scooby seemed stunned by the turn of events. Scrappy was jumping up and down with excitement. “It worked! It worked! We caught that evil ghostie!”

Vincent stepped forward and placed a hand very gingerly on the box. “Where did this come from?”

“Oh, we made it,” Flim-Flam said nonchalantly. “While we were staying Miss Grimwood’s. Scrappy and I put it together with come help from the girls.”

“And it worked!” Scrappy added excitedly.

“Like, that was some good thinking,” Shaggy said.

“Thanks,” Flim-Flam sounded proud.

“What did you put in it?” Daphne asked.

“The Vaccu-Spook 2000,” Scrappy replied.

Vincent straightened up. “Temporal Chains!” The green magic sprang up, wrapping around the Trap Chest. “We need the real Chest. This one won’t hold Asmodeus for long.”

“Come on, Uncle Scooby!” Scrappy said. “We can run back to the van and get the real Chest!”

“Rhyeah!” Scooby agreed, then paused. “Rwhat rabout the ghost?”

“Don’t worry. The Vacuu-Spook 2000 and Vincent’s spell should hold him until we get back!” Scrappy replied. “Come on. We’d better hurry.”

“Rnot that ghost,” Scooby whimpered, but Scrappy was already racing back down the trail to the van. “Rscrappy! Rwait!” Scooby turned and hurried after his nephew.

The dogs had barely left when Vincent found himself locked into a hug by Daphne and the others. “We’re glad you’re safe!” Shaggy told him.

“That was amazing! You can stop Asmodeus’ powers!” Daphne was almost cheering.

“Yes, someone shared that thought with me this morning. I should have thought of it sooner,” Vincent admitted as they released him and stepped back.

“Now as soon as Scooby and Scrappy get the real Chest, we can be done with all of this!” Flim-Flam announced.

“Yeah, and good riddance!” Shaggy added, staring at the Trap Chest.

As it turned out, they had spoken too soon. The green magic the Chest had been wrapped in began to glow red, and then the Trap Chest itself began to glow.

“Get back!” Vincent snapped, and the three youngsters obeyed instantly. Vincent was trying to focus his magic on holding the Trap Chest shut, but Asmodeus was just as determined to get out.

“The Vaccu-Spook can’t withstand this sort of thing!” Flim-Flam exclaimed.

“Where are Scooby and Scrappy with the Chest?” Daphne asked.

No one had an answer for her. The Trap Chest flew open and Asmodues, glowing with a red aura, burst free from it with a roar of anger.

Everyone had been knocked back by the force of his emerging. Vincent knew in an instant what spell he needed to use here.

But to cast Ultima, he would need to be able ti direct it, or else risk everyone being caught in the crossfire. The crystal would be able to focus the blast. He got to his knees, looking around frantically for it. The crystal came rolling back towards him just then, as though someone had kicked it to him.

Then he saw the ghost of Mortifer standing where the crystal had come from. “Go,” the ghost instructed. Vincent snatched up the once-shattered crystal, his emerald pendant, free of the red of Asmodeus’ magic since the kids had rescued him from the astral plane, glowing a brilliant green as he got to his feet. He held the crystal forward. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the dogs return, this time with the real Chest. The force of Asmodeus’ magic flung them back. They dropped the Chest. Mortifer positioned himself in front it, one final guard in case Asmodeus tried something now.

“Ultima!” Vincent shouted, and focused the powerful attack through the crystal. It hit Asmodeus head-on.

By now Daphne and Shaggy had gotten the Chest. Mortifer was nowhere to be seen. They set it down between them, and Scooby helped pull it open.

This time, stymied by Vincent's power hurled at him through the Ultima spell, Asmodeus had no chance of launching an attack in return. The power of Vincent’s spell had put a stop to that. The Chest took over, sucking Asmodeus back into it.

His cry of outrage lasted until her was firmly in the Chest, which closed with a snap. They all watched as the lip of the chest glowed white, and there was a decisive click.

The Chest had sealed.

“Is it...is it over?” Scrappy asked.

“That’s the Thirteenth Ghost,” Daphne said slowly, as though she wasn’t sure that she believed it.

“Rwe did rit!” Scooby cheered. “Rit’s rover!”

“It is over,” Vincent confirmed, walking toward them. Their attention on the Chest broken, they turned to their mentor and friend and wrapped him in another hug, which he returned.

“Ri’m really glad,” Scooby said.

“We’ll never have to worry about that creep ever again,” Scrappy added and the hug ended.

“A very good thing,” a new voice added, and the Gang turned to see a new ghost standing there.

Vincent had glanced up at the voice. “Mortifer.”

Mortifer smiled. “It’s good to speak to you again, Vincent. I like your new clothes.”

“Don’t you mean see him again?” Flim-Flam asked.

“No. I said what I meant,” Mortifer replied.

“Then, in the astral plane, and just now, it was you,” Vincent said.

Mortifer nodded. “It was.”

“Rand ryou rwere the ghost rin the van!” Scooby added.

“And the ghost who woke up Matches when those two ghosties stole the Chest of Demons at Miss Grimwood’s!” Scrappy added.

"How did you know that someone woke Matches up?" Daphne asked.

"I asked Matches and he told me," Scrappy replied, as though it were simple.

“Correct again, on all counts,” Mortifer replied. “I was trying my best to help you all. There wasn’t much that I could do, though. I had a ...run-in with Asmodeus some time ago. Not an enjoyable thing in life or the afterlife. He prevented me from more direct action that might have been more help, but there were still things that I could do. Knock down signs, for example,” he looked at Scrappy. Then he looked at Vincent. “Keep you out of the afterlife. I did everything I could.”

“We sure appreciate that, sir!” Shaggy told him.

“Ryeah! Rwe do!” Scooby added.

Mortifer smiled. “Asmodeus is my enemy as well. You don’t have to thank me. I can’t open the Chest any longer. I’m the one who ought to thank you.”

Vincent took a deep but silent breath. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Mortifer asked.

“It’s my fault that you died.”

Mortifer shook his head. “It’s Asmodeus’ fault that I died. Not yours. I knew what I was doing. Stop blaming yourself for every wrong thing Asmodeus does, Vincent. His sins are his own. You work so hard to undo what he does when the need arises. Can you learn to forgive yourself, too?”

“I didn’t even know you were still around!” Vincent snapped.

“I didn’t want you to know, in the beginning,” Mortifer said. “What would that have made me? You needed to move forward with your life, Vincent. If you thought I was still around as a ghost, what would that have driven you to do? Then you were off helping your sorcerer friends and others through the witch hunts, and when you finally went back to your castle, I couldn’t have followed you there anyway, not with the spells you put on the place to keep ghosts out. Later, when Flim-Flam here showed up, I thought there was no need for me to come back. I had hoped with his arrival that you were moving on. Time has stopped for me, but not for you.” Mortifer paused. “Of course, then the Chest was opened again, and after that I knew I couldn’t stand by and watch anymore. I would have to do anything I could to help stop Asmodeus’ from succeeding.”

“And it worked,” Scrappy finished.

“It did. It took longer than I expected it too, but it did,” Mortifer admitted.

“When I couldn’t find your spirit, after everything,” Vincent admitted, “I thought you were at rest.”

“Exactly what I hoped for,” Mortifer announced. “And now, if you have no objections, I feel entitled to a long rest. But, if you ever need me, you know how to raise me from my resting place,” he told Vincent. “You listed all the ways out for me once, remember?”

“I do,” Vincent admitted. “But I don’t think that I’ll do it by walking backward around your grave twelve times.”

Mortfier scoffed. “You should have thought of that before you put that monolith up.” He flew over and hugged his friend. “Goodbye, Vincent. We’ll meet again, I’m sure. But I know you’ll be fine.”

Vincent returned the hug, and Mortifer faded away, into white light. Vincent opened his arms, and the white energy dissipated away. It reappeared, just for a moment, over the grave a few yards away, and then it was gone.

The Gang closed in on Vincent and hugged him again. He returned it, again.

There was still work left to do. The Chest needed to be returned to the temple, or some other safe place. But there was time for that.

Vincent released them from the hug. “Let’s go home.” And somehow they knew that home was not Miss Grimwood's, or a village in Nepal, or Daphne's place in California. It was a castle on a mountain in the Himalayas.

The group disappeared as Vincent teleported them all away.

And a tall stone monument stood, a silent observer of it's own. The crystal ball at the pinnacle pointed at a blue sky above.

Chapter Text

Flim-Flam sat at a desk in the study, frowning over the papers in front of him. “I liked this better when I didn’t have to go to school.” But Vincent, and Daphne when she got back form her latest assignment, would want to see his work.

The crystal ball on the table started to glow, and Flim-Flam jumped up, shoving his papers away as he did. “Ooh boy, just what I needed. Hey Vince! The crystal’s going off!” he snatched the crystal ball up and ran out of the room.

In the castle’s kitchen, Vincent had doffed his cape, rolled up his sleeves, and was busy kneading bread dough. “More flour, Idesvigg.”

The little creature picked up a salt shaker almost as large as he was that had been filled with flour and went to work sprinkling it over the counter. Vincent rolled the dough through it, and started to knead again.

“Vince!” Flim-Flam burst into the kitchen. “The crystal!” He held the orb out.

Vincent reached for a towel lying on the counter and wiped his hands on it, before tossing it back towards Idesvigg. The little creature trotted through the flour, leaving a trail of footprints through it, as he went to wipe his hands on the towel. The warlock reached out and took the crystal from Flim-Flam. “Well, it seems we have a monster problem.” Idesvigg, having wiped his hands off, came back over and looked at the crystal.

“Really? What kind of monster?” Flim-Flam asked.

“A sea monster, trapped in an inland lake by accident after a storm. We’ll have to do something about that,” Vincent mused. The orb went dark, and started to glow green.

At Miss Grimwood’s School, a crystal ball standing on a table in the library started to glow. Matches, on his favorite white rug, snapped awake and hopped up on the chair next to the table to see what was going on. Then he hopped down and ran out of the room. He came back with Scrappy.

“You’re right! There’s a call coming in!” Scrappy put a paw on the globe as Matches hopped back up onto the table and Vincent’s face came into view. “Hi there Mr. V!”

“Hello Scrappy. We have a small problem of a sea monster that needs attention,” Vincent told him.

Scrappy looked at Matches. “Matches! Will you go get Shaggy and my Uncle Scooby?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the dragon hissed. He jumped down from the table and scurried out of the room.

“We’ll be ready to go in a minute,” Scrappy promised. “How are things in the Himalayas?”

“Just fine, Scrappy,” Vincent replied.

The door to the library opened, and Shaggy and Scooby came into the room. They immediately saw the glowing crystal ball and deduced what was up. “Oh, not again,” Shaggy moaned as Scooby jumped into his arms.

“Yes, again,” Vincent said. “Are you ready?”

“You betcha!” Scrappy exclaimed. Neither Shaggy nor Scooby contested the statement, even though neither was thrilled to have to go chase down another real monster. “Take it away!”

The glow from the crystal spread out into the room, and when it receded, only Matches was there, looking at the crystal once more before he went back to his rug.

The attempt to call Daphne had not gone through, but she would realize what had happened soon. Vincent handed the crystal ball back to Flim-Flam and turned his attention back to the bread while they waited. There was enough time to set it to rise before they left.

Scrappy, Shaggy and Scooby were teleported into the kitchen. “Like, looks busy in here.” Shaggy remarked as he set Scooby on the floor. “What’s cooking?”

“Nothing is cooking. Bread dough is rising,” Vincent said as he reached for a knife lying nearby and cut the dough into two pieces. Idesvigg had busied himself smearing butter all over the inside of two bread pans to keep the dough from sticking, and had managed to slip and slide around enough that he was almost covered in it himself by the time he was through. He was too slippery to get out now. Vincent careful tipped him out onto the counter before shaping the bread and putting the loaves into the pans. Idesvigg pulled the towel over the loaves.

“The girls wanted me to ask you if it was alright if they did their history assignment as a group project,” Shaggy told the warlock. “They said it was easier for them to study together.” Vincent had agreed to a request from Miss Grimwood that he teach the girls history and the outlines of the art of magic. He came to the school twice a month to teach. Miss Grimwood, generous to a fault, always pressed Vincent to spend the night when he came, and sometimes he would even take her up on the offer. Flim-Flam went with Vincent on these trips to sit in on the classes, though he was excused from the magic class on the basis of having no magic. Miss Grimwood had also given a standing invitation to Daphne to come and stay over whenever she was in the area.

Vincent thought it over. “But they are studying?”

“Ryeah! Rhey talk rabout rit rin the rlibrary,” Scooby said.

“Sibella reads the book, and then everyone talks about it and they write down the ideas that they think are the best,” Scrappy, who had sat in on some of these study sessions, added.

“Then you may let them know that I don’t mind, but I expect them all to contribute to the ensuing project,” Vincent decided.

Flim-Flam held the crystal up again. “Looks like Daphne’s got the message.”

The warlock took the crystal from him. “So she has.”

California, USA

“These updates are going to make a great story! Thanks for tipping me off, Freddy,” Daphne said as she followed him through the filming studio. There was no filming going on at present; the actors all being on break while the stage was set up for the next scene to be filmed.

“No problem Daph,” Fred replied. “I thought you might enjoy hearing about the secret role. I think it’s one of the best plot twists in the story,” he sounded proud of himself, and it was justified.

“My editors are thrilled to hear about my inside scoop!”

Fred noticed something. “Daphne, your necklace is glowing.”

Daphne glanced at the emerald set in silver that hung from a slender silver chain around he neck. “Sorry to run out on you Fred, but I've got to take this.”

“Back to the Himalayas?” Fred asked.

“Maybe. I’ll find out,” Daphne said, and ducked around a corner where no one on the production crew could see her. Fred stood keeping a look out. Daphne dug around in her bag and pulled out a crystal ball. “Vincent!”

“There’s a matter that’s come up,” the warlock told her.

Daphne didn’t wait to hear what it was. She looked at Fred, who shrugged. “I’ll hold the story for you. Call me when you’re back.”

Daphne gave him a grateful smile and turned her attention back to the crystal ball. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

The crystal started to glow, and she disappeared.

“Now then,” Vincent’s sleeves rolled down and his cape reappeared on him, and Idesvigg was instantly clean. “Daphne should be waiting for us in the study.” He picked up Idesvigg and set the creature on his shoulder, and the group set out to the study.

Daphne was there, looking at the portrait over the fireplace. She glanced at the door when she heard them enter. “You’ve redecorated.”

“Just replaced an old painting with a new one,” Vincent told her. The painting of Asamad Van Ghoul had been banished to the cellar of the castle. In it’s place hung a painting of Mortifer Quinch.

“Where did this come from?” Daphne asked.

“It just so happens,” Shaggy said, “that we know a Dhamphyr who loves to paint.”

“It was a gift,” Scrappy said. “We asked Sibella to paint it for Mr. V. She did a good job.”

“She’s got rtalent,” Scooby added.

“And I hung it here when they gave it to me,” Vincent said. He set Idesvigg down on the table. “Mind the place while we’re gone, Idesvigg.”

The creature nodded.

“The crystal please, Flim-Flam,” Vincent ordered.

Flim-Flam handed the crystal ball over.

Shaggy gulped. “Let’s get this over with. Then we can come back and have bread.”

“If it rises,” Vincent said ominously.

“Rif?” Scooby asked.

“Yes, if.” Vincent repeated. “Some ancient spells are easier then bread.” He laughed darkly.

“Are we going or not?” Flim-Flam asked.

Scooby was looking at the painting. It was an excellent likeness. They had gotten Mortifer to rise from his grave again so that Sibella could paint him. It had taken them some time to complete the twelve backwards loops around Mortifer’s tombstone that was required to raise the man from the dead, with Shaggy finally having to resort to using rearview mirrors to make the twelve circles around the grave. But the painting had turned out very well, and Vincent had been so touched by their gesture when he saw it that they all knew they would have done it again if they had too. As the Great Dane was looking at it, the image of Mortifer winked at him.

Scooby blinked, then rubbed his eyes and looked again. The portrait was as it had been.

“Scoob! Are you coming?” Shaggy called.

With one more glance back at the painting, which seemed somehow to be giving him a knowing look, Scooby went over to join the rest of the group. Vincent was waiting to teleport them.

A flash of green light later, they were all gone. Idesvigg sat down on the table, swinging his feet. He looked at the painting, and then out over the empty room.

They would be back. They always would.