Notes: So... here's this.

Chapter One

It was an ordinary day in Gravity Falls, Oregon. Normal, even. From his perch on the roof, Dipper has spotted only two strange things in the course of the afternoon. Two. That's nothing! Yesterday, they'd spent an entire afternoon falling in the bottomless pit and that was practically mundane for Gravity Falls. Gravity, Dipper thinks with a chuckle. Nice. With a final stroke of his pen, he completes the sketch of the Bottomless Pit and contemplates it with a critical eye. It's not bad, but nowhere near what The Author could do. Dipper sighs and flips back through the journal, running his fingers over pages he's memorized like the back of his hand. Not for the first time, Dipper wonders who The Author was… is? Could they still be alive? The journal seems so old. Surely, if The Author is still alive, they must be ancient! Like, nearly sixty or something.

Dipper flips back to the Bottomless Pit page and starts scribbling down calculations. Obviously, it wasn't really bottomless. That'd make no sense. And how could it be that they fell for so long only to pop back out the top? Is it really a wormhole like he first thought?

CRACK!

Dipper jumps and fumbles the journal, barely managing to keep ahold of it. His pen is a lost cause, though, and he watches it roll off the edge of the roof before hopping up and looking around for the cause of the loud noise. He can't spot anything around the shack, but that was loud. Whatever it was had to be nearby.

Dipper scrabbles over cedar shingles and throws open the hatch. He hurries down the ladder and into the gift shop. Mabel is already there, face pressed to the window.

"Dipper! DIPPER!"

"I'm right here, Mabel," he says with a head shake.

"Did you hear that?! What do you think it was?" She turns to him and he sees that she has a paper unicorn horn… wait, did she glue it to her forehead? Dipper stares at it for a second before shrugging. Oh well. They can deal with that later. Right now…

"C'mon, let's go check it out!" Dipper urges, jogging for the door. Mabel follows close behind him. Stan is asleep on the porch couch, snoring loudly. The can of Pitt Cola he was holding has slipped a little and is dribbling soda down the front of his shirt.

"Grunkle Stan, we're gonna go out into the woods alone again!" Mabel calls as they rush down the steps. Stan just grumbles and shifts a little before snoring even louder.

The two of them race off into the woods in the direction they think the sound came from. Dipper comes up with a search pattern for them and they spend the next half-hour combing the underbrush for anything suspicious. Mabel pokes him in the ear with her horn every now and then, just to make sure he's not slacking.

What could've made that loud of a noise?, Dipper wonders. It didn't sound like an explosion, and surely they would've seen the destruction by now if it had been. Smoke or blown-up trees or… Dipper's thoughts trail off when he sees something poking out from behind a log. A shoe?

"Hey Mabel…?" Dipper's voice comes out weak, but Mabel is close enough to hear it anyway.

"What's up, bro-bro?" is her chipper reply. He lifts a shaky hand and points. Her eyes follow and she gasps. They creep closer. It's definitely a shoe - a black flip-flop - and it's lying abandoned beside the log. They keep going, hearts pounding now, both unsure and entirely certain of what they'll find. When the bare foot comes into view, Dipper's eyes widen and Mabel lets out a little shriek, covering her face with both hands.

"Dipper… Dipper, is that a dead body?" she whispers. "I'm too young and innocent to witness this!"

Dipper grabs a stick from the forest floor and inches forward. "Oh man," he mutters frantically as he gets close enough to poke the foot with his stick. He holds his breath. When nothing happens, he does it again. And again.

Mabel is peering out from between her fingers now. "It is a dead body! Oh no, no, no…" She pulls the bottom of her sweater up and over her head. The unicorn horn pokes through the chunky knit, tassel at the end fluttering in the slight breeze.

Dipper takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and moves closer to the body. He should see if it's someone they know. Then they should hurry back to the shack and call the police.

Having a plan helps a bit. When Dipper fully rounds the fallen tree, he sees that the body is that of a woman. She has brown, curly hair with just the slightest hint of grey at the temples. Most of it hangs in front of her face, obscuring her features. She's wearing shorts, a black T-shirt with some sort of graphic on it, and only one shoe.

Dipper is barely breathing, but he doesn't smell anything bad. He remembers reading that dead bodies start to smell really bad after a while, so this must be recent. Which means that whatever killed her might still be around. Dipper shivers and glances behind himself, but all he sees are trees.

"Dipper, are you there? What's happening?" Mabel's voice is muffled by the sweater, but he can tell she's scared. He needs to do this quickly and get them home.

"Y-yeah." His voice cracks and he clears his throat. "I'm here, Mabel. I'm just gonna see if it's someone we know, then we can go home and call 9-1-1."

"Okay," she whimpers.

Dipper shuffles closer, moving the stick towards the woman's face. He's planning to shift the hair aside with it, but the moment the stick makes contact, the dead body groans. Dipper lets out a high-pitched scream, which in-turn makes Mabel scream. She rips the sweater from her face and her eyes dart from tree to tree, looking for the danger. Dipper runs to her side, already stammering. "Z-zo-zombie!" Mabel lets out another shriek and they duck behind the nearest tree, peeking around it at the log where the body is. Dipper holds the stick like a sword now, ready to swing it at the zombie if it comes over to them.

They hear another groan and the creature sits up, holding a hand to its head. Mabel pulls something out of her pocket and taps him on the arm. He chances a glance and sees that it's a tube of glitter.

"When it comes close enough, you whack it across the shins with your stick and I'll get it with the ol' glitter to the face trick!" Mabel whispers, shaking the glitter.

Dipper frowns. "What's that gonna do?"

Mabel gives him a look. "You've never had this stuff in your eyes," she challenges. "I have. And let me tell you, it's like a bajillion tiny knives stabbing at your eyeballs. I cried glitter for, like, a week."

Dipper nods, vaguely remembering that. "Okay. Wait for my signal." Mabel salutes him and they both peer around the tree again. The zombie is looking around now, expression slack. Dipper can tell there's nothing left behind those eyes. The creature moves onto its hands and knees and crawls toward its other shoe. Then, using the log, it pushes itself up and clumsily slips it on.

I suppose zombies need shoes, too, Dipper thinks, tightening his grip on the stick. Any moment now, it's going to turn and amble this way. Sure enough, it does just that, shuffling and using the trees to keep itself upright. It's getting closer… Any moment… Dipper gets ready to spring. He hears Mabel pop the top off the glitter tube. Aaaand… "NOW!" Dipper shouts and leaps out from behind the tree. He swings the stick and cracks it hard across the zombie's shins. The creature shouts and stumbles. That's when Mabel throws the entire tube of glitter in its face. The undead woman screams and wipes frantically at herself.

"Ow! Oh ow! What the hell?! What is this?!" There are tears streaming down the zombie's cheeks and its eyes are bloodshot. "I can't see!"

Dipper is about to bolt, but Mabel stops him. She's tugging on his arm and frowning at the zombie.

"Dip, are you sure that's a zombie?" she asks, a calculating look on her face as she examines the creature.

"Of course it is, Mabel!" he exclaims. "It was dead and now it's walking around. Let's go!" He tries to tug her away but she's rooted in place.

Meanwhile, the zombie has heard them talking and is looking in their direction. "Who's there? What do you want? What the hell did you throw at me?!" It sounds angry and Dipper starts backing away, but Mabel takes a step closer.

"Mabel!" Dipper hisses, reaching for her.

"Hi!" she calls. "Mabel here! Are you a zombie?"

A complicated series of expressions pass over the woman's face. Finally, she stutters, "W-what? No!" Then she whimpers and rubs at her eyes.

"Don't rub, it only makes things worse," Mabel tells her. "Trust me on that one." She winks and makes a finger gun.

"What is this stuff?" the woman asks, blinking rapidly as tears continue to spill down her cheeks.

Mabel spreads her arms out, palms up, looking toward the heavens. "Angel Dust," she sighs dramatically.

The woman's jaw falls slack. "What?! You threw Angel Dust in my eyes?! Ohhh no…" She starts wiping frantically at her eyes again, muttering something about children and drugs.

"Well, that's the name of the glitter, anyway," Mabel replies, grinning. "And stop rubbing at it! I told you, that only makes things worse!" Mabel wags her finger at the woman.

She stops rubbing and squints at Mabel. "You threw glitter at me." It's not even a question; she just sounds resigned at this point.

Dipper moves up next to his sister, cocking his head to examine this stranger. "You weren't dead, were you?"

Her brows scrunch together. "Um… I don't think so?" She squints harder. "You guys are kids, right? You sound like kids."

"Yup!" Mabel replies, popping the 'p.' At the same time, Dipper says, "We're not kids. We're twelve."

The woman gives a weak smile, then points at Mabel with a confused head tilt. "Is there something on your forehead?"

Mabel grins and poses. "It's a unicorn horn! I was in the middle of making it when we heard the loud noise. It was like, ca-CRACK! And it scared me so much I dropped my bottle of glue! It went everywhere! Then Dipper and I came out here to investigate and we found you and thought you were dead, but you got up and walked so then we thought you were a zombie. But you're not, so yay!"

The woman is just staring at Mabel with a bemused smile, eyes still red and watery. Her entire face is sparkly and there are bruises starting to form on her shins. Dipper winces at that and rubs the back of his neck. Oops.

"I'm sorry," the woman says in a dazed voice, "what did you say your names were again?"

Mabel bounces on the balls of her feet, fingers clenched excitedly in the cuffs of her sleeves. "I'm Mabel and this is my twin, Dipper!" She seems to realize something then and gasps, smushing her own cheeks with sweater-covered hands. "I never asked what your name is! Who are you, strange forest lady?"

The woman just blinks in return, jaw slack once more.

After a long moment, Mabel steps closer to wave in her face. "Hellooo? Forest lady?"

"Maggie," the woman finally replies in a hoarse whisper.

Mabel grins and takes Maggie's hand. "This must be fate! We both have names that start with m. That means you're supposed to be here! C'mon, let's get you to the Shack and wash those eyes out!" Mabel starts dragging Maggie in the direction of the Shack and she trails behind willingly, Dipper bringing up the rear.