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NOTE: Another "13 Ghosts" fic - different parts are told through different perspectives. A few references to the first "13 Ghosts" episode.

My name is Flim Flam. I'm eleven years old, and live in the Himalayas. I remember back to when I was nine years old. I was a loner, with no parents. I was an orphan. I lived with a mystic named Vincent Van Ghoul, or "VVG", as I like to call him. Hee, hee. Anyways, he made a cure for curses called "Lotsa Luck Joy Juice". I would go around town, selling the elixir, and in return, VVG gives me a room in his castle. Still, I felt alone. You see, VVG was not too friendly. He always wanted to be alone to his work, and besides selling his potions, that was all to my life. I had no friends - I was too nervous to make friends - most of the people spent their time in the bar. I think drinking is distasteful. I hated it. I would always stare out at the clear skies at night, and I know this sounds corny, but I wished over the first star that I would have some friends, and possibly a family someday. I felt like crying myself to sleep every night.

Until that miracle of a day.

You see, it all started when I was sent out to sell the Joy Juice on the streets. It was a foggy morning. I could hardly see, and the road was so slick I almost crashed the cart several times. If I did that, VVG would get pretty steamed. Anyways, I knocked on the door to the mayor's house. The mayor answered. I held up the bottle of Joy Juice in my hand.

"Hello, friend," I said. "Flim Flam's the name, and I'm selling here Lotsa Luck Joy Juice! It's said to remove any bad luck!"

The tubby fellow looked at me hard and cold. Guess he didn't like kids. "It's the little brat who escaped the orphanage!" he bellowed. "Get him!"

Yeah, you heard it right folks - I escaped. You know why? I hated the orphanage. The other kids there were bullies, the food was gross, the beds were hard and cold. Should I go on? I don't think so.

The mayor grabbed for me. I kept slipping from his grasp. Being small comes to be an advantage if you put your mind to it. Just then, the owner of the place came out. She began to chase me. "Children shouldn't be out roaming the streets!" she roared. I had no choice - I grabbed my cart and ran. Agreeing with the woman, other villagers came after me down the streets, calling me a "little con-artist". Where did that come from?

Sure, I try to get a few more cents out of my customers, but VVG says that I if I don't make enough moolah, then he'd kick me out. It's sorta like paying rent. You don't pay, you're booted. And I really don't want to get booted.

Just then a huge red and white plane came down from the sky. I was cornered on the street, surrounded by peeved off villagers. I saw the enormous rubber duck hanging behind the plane as it passed over the tops of our heads. I mean - it was close enough to touch! I grabbed the duck, and I was pulled to safety.

It was there I met the gang: Scooby-Doo, Shaggy Rogers, Daphne Blake, and Scooby's nephew, Scrappy. Little did I know that they would be my new best friends.

Scooby was one neat dog - he could even speak, which astounded me at first. This Great Dane loved food - at dinnertime, I'd have to look away as he ate - it was like watching a gory horror movie while eating tomato paste, if you know what I mean. All and all, Scooby-Doo had a great personality. Shaggy Rogers was Scooby's owner - lucky guy! He got to own the neatest dog on the planet! And like his dog, Shag enjoyed nothing more than a good feast. He was a human trash compactor. Shaggy was very outgoing and friendly, although he told bad jokes. And just like Scooby, he scares really easily - if you say the word "ghost" in front of him, he'd jump into your arms and start shaking. Hee, hee, hee! Daphne Blake was the only gal of our crew. She was very warm-hearted and had a good sense of humor. Unlike Shag and Scooby, however, she wasn't a coward. She was pretty brave, as girls go. She'd tell me what the best strategies were for playing cool pranks on Shaggy and Scooby. Luckily, Shag and Scoob had great senses of humor, too.

I was homeschooled, because I was always travelling with the gang. Daphne was a great teacher. Daphne was very fun to be around - she was very understanding, and did all she could to help if we were in a jam. Scrappy liked to talk. He always tried to help his cool uncle Scooby. Even though Scoob didn't want to chase the ghost, Scrappy always found a way to get him to - with the help of Daphne and me - hehehe! All and all, even though I don't remember him too well, he was kinda nice. Rude sometimes, but a bit nice.

I remember after we flew off to Hawaii! (after the first "13 Ghosts" episode) I was so happy I had some friends! They even let me drive their plane for a few minutes, which they called, "The Mystery Flying Machine". They did have one ultimate rule, though - they never let me fill the gas tank with Losta Luck Joy Juice again. It made the plane run like it was on a caffiene rush, and the plane became hard to control, until Shaggy, the most experienced pilot, took the wheel, and took us safely to the island. Phew!

We had a lot of fun in Hawaii - we went swimming, surfing, a lot of food for Scooby and Shaggy, and plenty of sunshine. It was also a night that I had that greusome nightmare. It started with me escaping the orphanage. Then I saw a big crowd in the street. As I peeked in to see what they were doing, I saw my parents being tortured. My real parents who had died when I was five. They were poor, and had to steal food to feed me and themselves. They were being lashed with whips. Blood streamed from their wounds. Then, the mayor came in with a gun...

I woke up in tears. I remember that night. I was sleeping in our little home underneath a building. My parents had gone out to gather food and firewood. Then I heard noises. I ran out there, and just like in the dream, I saw the crowd. I was grabbed by an old woman. She cursed at me, and then dragged me to the orphanage. She threw me in a room, and slammed the door. Just then, I heard my parents' screams of pain. I peered out the window, in time to see the mayor with a gun. I heard two shots, and all was silent. Feeling hot tears coming on, I huddled in the corner, realizing I was alone.

I snapped out of the terrible memory. I dashed out of bed, and out of my room. I went down the hall to Daphne's room, and opened the wooden door. I crawled into her bed, under the warm blue covers. Daphne woke up. I was sobbing. "What's wrong?" she asked, wiping my tears away.

I told her the dream; of my real family. I then saw her eyes. They were caring and soft. I felt better now that I had gotten that off my chest. "Awww, Flim Flam," she began. "That's horrible. Here - why don't you sleep here tonight."

"Okay," I said, sniffing back another tear. I laid down next to her. Daphne's warmth was comforting. It was like I was with Mom again. I cuddled up to her. Just then, I heard Daphne sing to me. She sang in a soft, steady voice. It was like hearing the first songbirds of the morning. It was called, "The River", and it went something like this:

"You know a dream is like a river, Ever changing as it flows, And the dreamer's just a vessel, That must follow where it goes, Trying to learn from what's behind you, And never knowing what's in store, Makes the day a constant battle, Just to stay between the shores, And I will sail my vessel, Till the river runs dry, Like a bird upon the wind, These waters are my sky, I'll never reach my destination, If I never try, So I will sail my vessel, Till the river runs dry."

I fell asleep in minutes. I felt Daphne stroke my hair. I knew she was concerned. She was asleep a bit later.

~DAPHNE'S POINT OF VIEW~

Yep - Flim Flam was the only one who knew I could sing a little. He was such a sweet child. Sure, he was mischievious, and sometimes a smart-allic, but anybody can be like that, right? Ahem - everyone says that the smartmouth bit was my personality rubbing off on him. Hee! But, he also cared so much about us...

I recall this dreadful morning of 1986. The sky was black as coal. Icy winds chilled the gang and I to the bone as we walked to the Mystery Machine after stopping by the grocery store to pick up a dozen boxes of Scooby Snacks. We got inside, and I opened my wallet - nothing. We had used my last paycheck on Scooby Snacks! And let me tell you - those things aren't forty cents a box anymore. More like five dollars. And my job as a magazine reporter can only pay their employees so much! Anyways, we were beginning to head out of the parking lot, when Scrappy told us that he smelled smoke. He pointed to the right, and we all saw the terrible sight. The town hall was ingulfed in flames. The first thing I thought: Oh, my God. Then we saw a low dark form bolt away from the scene as we neared the building. I screeched the van to a halt, and dashed after him. Luckily, he tripped and fell. That's when I coiled the muscles in my legs, and sprang at him. Direct hit - I landed the culprit. Just then he took a pistol from his jacket. He aimed it at my chest, and I froze. He circled me, keeping his aim. My heart was pounding a mile a minute. I thought what I was going to do. I came up with zero ideas - uh, oh. The stranger shook his gun in my face. I took a step back. I was scared as hell, pardon my language. I was afraid to even twitch an eyebrow.

"HEY, YOU BULLIES!" a familiar voice called. I looked towards the Mystery Machine. Flim Flam was sticking his head out the window, glaring at the intruder. I stepped into action. Snatching the gun from the shadow's hand, I looked at Flim Flam. "Roll up the windows! Lock the doors! Stay in there!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. Pushing the tip of the gun into the back of the culprit's neck, I shoved him to the pavement. He lay there, motionless. I smelled his fear. Good. The bastard deserved it. Whoops - slipped again. Sorry about my bad language.

I saw lights flashing in the distance. They were bright red and blue, and the loud sirens buzzed in my ears. I waved them over with my free hand. As soon as the car stopped, a big officer stepped out. He stared at me. "Good job, missy," he growled. "You caught Coolsville's bomber!" I nodded. "My friends and I saw the city hall in flames. What's the damage?"

"The building itself is gone. Forty dead, seventy others injured," he replied, hauling off the bomber. He sped off, leaving me with the gun. I knocked on the door. Scrappy opened it, and I got in, and we went to the wreckage. Body bags were everywhere. A sad sight indeed. There were hurt people sitting in parked ambulances, sort of like a moving hospital. I looked at all the seriously injured people, in need of medical attention. I went up to one of the ambulances, and Shaggy and I each gave some blood. After that, Shaggy and I were a bit groggy from the blood donation, and needed a nap. I was able to keep my eyes open long enough to get us home. Scooby watched the kids as Shag and I went to our rooms upstairs and crashed for half the day. When we woke up around noon, Flim Flam said that Shaggy was snoring so loud that the windows shook, and that got a laugh out of all of us - but Shaggy of course. As he laughed, I saw pure joy in the child's eyes. I smiled at him, knowing that he had saved my life. Just imagine, if he hadn't been there to get that bomber's attention, I would have been shot and killed instantly. The bravery in him was extraordinary for a nine year-old. I felt like an older sister, a guardian, or overall - a mother - to him.

~SHAGGY'S POINT OF VIEW~

Like, I can remember those creepy demons and that spooky old Chest Of Demons all right. Yeeesh! I'd rather not. I recall those days on Saturday morning when Flim Flam would be the first one up. He would dash to our rooms, and get everyone up to watch his favorite program: "Scooby-Doo! Where Are You!" Daphne, Scooby, and I would mouth our lines as we watched the show. He would laugh watching our old adventures with Freddy and Velma. Flim Flam once asked Daphne why she and Fred always split up. Daphne said that they would always look around for a secret panel, then go get the rest of us if one was found. Those old panels seem to be popping up everywhere nowadays, don't they? But it's true - Fred and Daphne did do just as much work as Scooby, Velma, and I - and it was sometimes twice as scary, going down those tunnels. It was usually Daphne who found them - the hard way. Every time Daphne fell into a pit or something, Flim Flam, Scrappy, Scooby, and I would point at Daphne and yell: DANGERPRONE DAPHNE DOES IT AGAIN! It never fails - Daphne would turn as red as a cherry-flavored Scooby Snack! Like, I'll never forget those fun Saturday mornings! Ha, ha, ha!

~OMNISCIENT POINT OF VIEW~

The crescent moon shone a pale light above the home of the gang. The stairs creaked with every step as Daphne and Flim Flam went upstairs. It was ten-thirty: time for bed. Flim Flam got into bed, and Daphne pulled the dark green covers over him. The boy stretched and rolled onto his side. "Good night, Daphne," he yawned. "Good night, Flim Flam," Daphne replied softly, leaving the room without a sound. Behind her, she shut the mahogany door and went to her room for the night. The entire house was silent. BONG, BONG, BONG! The grandfather clock in the dining room struck three. Flim Flam opened his shining brown eyes and peered out the window. Only the hoot of a nearby owl returned his gaze. He looked at the floor. The carpet was covered with a cold blue mist, up to his knees. Flim Flam stepped off the bed. He shivered when he felt it sift over his bare feet. He looked at his calandar. The tiny hair on the back of his neck prickled when he saw the date: September 12th, 1986. The fourth anniversary of his parents' tragic death. The scenes flashed before his eyes: The angry mob. His parents being slashed with whips. The mayor with the gun... He looked away from the calandar. Hastily, he opened his nightstand, and grabbed something from the drawer. He dashed downstairs, being careful so that the THUD THUD of his feet won't awaken the others. He reached the living room. On the big couch lay Scooby-Doo, sprawled out, and sound asleep. Scrappy was curled up in the armchair, snoozing away. Both were unaware of Flim Flam's presence as he crept to the window. When he reached it, the boy stared into the endless sky. His eyes were getting hot. He shook his head. No, no, he thought. Don't cry. But he couldn't help it. He felt the first hot tear trickle down his cheek, and soak into the carpet. He unrolled the piece of old paper he had kept in the drawer. It was of a man, a woman, and a young four year-old boy: Flim Flam and his parents. His mother had shiny black hair, and striking green eyes, the shade of emerald. She was thin, and very tall, about Daphne's height. Flim Flam looked more like his father: scruffy black hair midway down his neck, chocolate brown eyes, thick eyebrows, and like both his son and his wife, a warm heart. None of the gang; not even Vincent Van Ghoul, had seen this photograph. He had had it since the death of his parents, and he hid it securely in his nightstand drawer.

A faint TAP, TAP was heard when a few tears dripped onto the paper from the young boy's eyes. They twinkled with sorrow as he gazed into the night. Just then, Flim Flam saw the same blue mist roll over the ground in a matter of seconds. He gasped as they took shape into a man and a woman. Somehow, they seemed vaguely familiar: his parents! He could recognize Mom's gentle green eyes from anywhere. They both put one of their hands on the glass of the window. Flim Flam put his hands over them on the other side. He smiled when his mother spoke.

"Flim Flam. Our precious Flim Flam," she said. "Do not be sad. It was not your fault." Flim Flam squeezed another tear from his eye. "But you were all I had," he sniffed.

His father spoke now. "I know you miss us," he said gently. "We miss you, too - we wished that we would always be here for you."

Flim Flam grinned. "I'm glad to see you again," he said through a sob. His mother's eyes sparkled. "So are we," she said. "There people you are staying with; the Scooby-Doo gang; they'll always be there for you. They love you." "They do?" Flim Flam replied.

"Yes," his brawny father answered. "They'd lay their very lives down if it meant saving you. They wouldn't hesitate a moment."

"Stay with them," he mother said. "We may be gone, but you still have them."

"Goodbye, my son," his father said, as they began to lose shape. Flim Flam's eyes became shocked. "Wait!" He darted from the house to the back door. He wheeled around to the front yard, and ran after the mist as it began to drift away. "Mom! Dad! Don't leave me!" he cried, as the spirits of his parents faded into the night.

As he watched the last traces of blue dissolve, he bowed his head, and whispered, "Don't go..." He looked again at the picture, his parents' words playing back in his mind.

Just then, Scrappy and Scooby were awakened by the SLAM! of the back door. Scoob looked at his nephew.

"We better get Raggy and Raphne!" he barked.

"Right-o, Uncle Scooby!" Scrappy replied.

The two dogs jumped down from the couch, and bolted up the stairs. Minutes later, Scrappy came down, carrying Shaggy high above his head. Shaggy was hugging his pillow, and saying, "Just five more minutes, Mommy," in a half-snore. Scooby came out, dragging a sleepy Daphne by the leg of her lavender pajama bottoms. Daphne's eyes were half-open. She moaned a little as she was dragged down the hallway. Then, came the stairs. Scrappy hopped from step to step, causing Shaggy no discomfort. However, for Daphne, it was a completely different story. As Scoob dragged her down the staircase, she was hit in the back by the steps and felt a dozen jolts as she was pulled downstairs. "Oof! Ow! Yip! Eek! Drat! Frick!" By the time they reached the bottom, Daphne was seeing stars. She rubbed her head. "What's the deal, guys?" she asked groggily. She shook off the pain of the stairs.

Scrappy put Shaggy down. He was still snoozing. But now he was drooling all over his pillow. Scooby woke his up with a big lick - chock full of dog slime. Shaggy was up in an instant. "Like, hey - what gives?!" he whined.

"We heard a ram!" Scooby barked.

"Wha?" Shaggy and Daphne asked in usion.

"Uncle Scooby said we heard a slam!" Scrappy translated.

"That's rhat Ri raid!" Scooby said.

"It came from the back door," Scrappy implied as his uncle nodded. Shaggy, Daphne, and Scrappy walked through the front door, Scooby bringing up the rear. His tail was between his legs, and he was trembling. A faint whimper escaped his throat.

Daphne bolted outside. She followed the footprints that weaved through the grass. She peered around the corner.

"Flim Flam?" she said when she saw the child kneeled over, sobbing. She put a hand on his shoulder. "What's wrong, kid?" she asked.

The others followed soon after. "Like, what's with Double-F?" Shaggy questioned.

Flim Flam leaned against Daphne. Daphne put her arms around him, and she patted his back, trying to soothe him. "Tell us what's wrong," she said softly.

"Like, maybe he saw "The Ghost Of The Son Of The Bride Of Frankenstein" too many times!" Shaggy joked. He laughed. Daphne shot him a dirty glare, daggers flying from her gaze. Shaggy's laugh died seconds later. Daphne turned her gaze back to Flim Flam.

"Well, Daph - you probably won't believe this, but - I saw Mom and Dad," he replied. He took out the old photo, and showed the others. "Their ghosts came back -"

"Rhosts?!" Scooby cut off. Shaggy covered his dog's mouth. "- and told me to stay with you. That you'd take care of me," Flim Flam finished. He waited for a reply. Then he looked into Daphne's eyes. They were soft; as they were that night he had the nightmare of his parents' death. He knew she believed him. Nobody would ever lie about their parents' deaths and not cry about it. She didn't have to answer. He hugged her, and listened to her steady heartbeat. He shut his eyes, and he felt Daphne wipe his tears away with her gentle hands.

"Awww..." Scooby said.

"Yeah - it's touching, isn't it?" Shaggy responded, blowing his nose. Even Scrappy agreed - it was indeed touching. He choked up a little, fighting to hold back tears. Daphne took Flim Flam's hand. Flim Flam clasped it tightly as Daphne led him back into the house. She sat with Flim Flam on the couch, talking to him in a soothing voice that it would be alright. Flim Flam was beginning to calm down. Shaggy got them a blanket, and helped Daphne drape it over Flim Flam. They exchanged good nights, and he went upstairs to bed. Scooby again took his place on the couch, this time sharing it with Daphne. He laid his head on Flim Flam's shoulder, and stared at Daphne as she held the boy. Scrappy again curled up in the armchair, bundled up under last Sunday's newspaper. He snored softly. His tail stuck out from under the front page. Then Daphne sang to Flim Flam the old lullaby she had used long ago: "You know a dream is like a river..." Scooby's eyelids were getting heavy. He yawned and soon dozed off, lulled to sleep by Daphne's voice, which had a twinge of an Irish accent. Flim Flam loosened up, and was too asleep in the next five minutes. Daphne smiled. She got up, being careful not to wake the others, pulled the blankets up over Flim Flam, and stroked his hair.

"You'll be alright, child," she whispered. "I promise." She petted Scooby-Doo a few times, then crept up the stairs back to her room.

As she crawled into bed that night, Daphne thought about Flim Flam. She knew that he couldn't stay with them, yet they couldn't just abandon him. She looked out at the pale moon, a faint twinkle in her faithful blue eyes. "What do I do?" she asked the heavens in a whisper. Soon after, the young woman dozed off into a dreamless slumber. All that could be heard was the chirping crickets in the field, a distant owl, and two whispy voices repeating the words: "All will be well," as they blew by the house in a faint breeze.

THE END

Author's Note: I know it's kind of a sad story, but when I was watching my "13 Ghosts Of Scooby-Doo" tapes, I started thinking about it. You all know I don't really care much for Scooby's nephew, but I put him in there just for a change in pace. But, please - I worked extra-hard on this fic, and I'm very proud of it. Please - DON'T FLAME!

Best Wishes,

Amanda D.