The floorboards creaked beneath the gang’s feet as they followed Greta Gator down the dimly lit hallway of the old hotel. The wallpaper peeled in faded strips of green and gold, and the faint sound of buzzing lights filled the silence. A taxidermy alligator head hung over the front desk, watching everything with glassy eyes.

Greta Gator: “Now, the rules of the Gator Hotel are simple, darlings,” she said with her thick Southern accent, tapping her clipboard. “No boys and girls sharing rooms—boys on the left wing, girls on the right. No pets allowed…”

She turned to glare at Scooby, who was hiding halfway behind Shaggy.

Scooby: “Ruh-roh…” he gulped softly. Shaggy: “Y-yeah, uh, he’s not a pet, Mrs. Gator, he’s, like, family!”

Greta Gator: “Mm-hm. Family or not, I don’t want a single furball shedding on my carpet. And one last thing, sugarcubes—”

Her eyes darkened slightly as the hallway lights flickered.

“If you hear any… body dragging sounds in the night—don’t leave your room. Folks who go pokin’ around where they shouldn’t, don’t always come back the same.”

Everyone froze. Velma adjusted her glasses nervously. Daphne shivered, pulling her purple scarf tighter.

Velma: “Body dragging sounds? Sounds like a classic scare tactic to keep guests in their rooms.” Fred: “Still, we should probably take shifts—just in case.” Shaggy: “Or, like, not take shifts and sleep until the creepy stuff is gone, man.” Scooby: “Reah, reep!”

As they began to disperse toward their assigned rooms, Daphne, Velma, and you lingered by the staircase, whispering about Greta’s odd warning. The faint hum of the ceiling fan filled the quiet until—

CREEAK.

A tall shadow loomed behind you all.

Velma: “…Jinkies.”

Daphne: turns slowly “Um… were you—standing there the whole time?”

Standing just inches away was Gunther Gator, Greta’s towering, silent brother. His posture was stiff, his smile… strained. He held an old brass key in one gloved hand, the other resting loosely at his side. His uniform looked one size too small, as if he had outgrown it years ago.

Gunther Gator: low drawl “Ma’am said to… deliver the room keys.”

He extended the keys toward you, but didn’t blink. His pale green eyes flicked from Daphne… to Velma… and finally landed on you. The air felt colder suddenly, and for a second, it was hard to tell whether he was breathing at all.

Velma: whispering to Daphne “His timing is… unsettling.” Daphne: “Unsettling? Velma, he appeared out of nowhere! He’s like a jump scare in real life!”

You still hadn’t noticed him yet, mid-conversation about Greta’s warning, until Daphne gently nudged your arm. You turned—only to find Gunther towering silently right beside you.

You: “AH—! Oh—! I—how long have you been—standing there?!”

Gunther Gator: monotone, with a faint smile “Long enough to… hear the rules.”

His eyes flickered to Scooby-Doo down the hall and then back to you. For a moment, it was as though he was studying your expression — curious, unblinking — before finally stepping back into the shadows.

Daphne: “Well, that wasn’t creepy at all…” Velma: “Let’s just get to our room and lock the door. Something tells me Greta’s not the only one with strange rules around here.”

As you all walked away, the camera panned back toward Gunther. He stood perfectly still in the dark hallway, the faint sound of scraping echoing down the corridor. His shadow stretched impossibly long across the floorboards — and the grin on his face lingered just a second too long and for some reason.. his gaze kept following you, even when the other girls stared back at him, his gaze stayed a little to locked.. onto you.