The boy ran.
He ran from the chaos and the violence. Dipper's ears could still pick up the werewolf's screams and the gunfire, but he ignored it. Or rather, he wished he could.
It had been just another normal day for Dipper, although with the bizarre sights Gravity Falls had to offer, Dipper used the word 'normal' lightly. Grunkle Stan had sent him out to set up signs along the road, to help tourists and ultimately promote Stan's business. Sometimes, Dipper wondered if attracting tourists was worth spending an hour or two in the rain. The kid swore he was going to give Stan a piece of his mind when he got back. That is, if he made it out alive.
Then again, he partially had himself to blame, too. Being the adventurer he was, Dipper couldn't resist the temptation to take advantage of Stan's vague chore request, sneaking into the woods to explore after he had finished setting up the signs.
That was his first mistake.
Dipper had brought along his sketch pad, just in case he sighted another mystery that needed documenting. He knew there were still wonders out there beyond the town of Gravity Falls, and the boy simply couldn't sit still and watch such opportunities pass by. Boy, was he right when he figured he needed the sketch pad. He'd spotted a fanged, red-eyed werewolf in the distance, and had decided to jot down a sketch of the monster while he had the chance. After all, creatures come and go in Gravity Falls, but Dipper had never seen anything like this werewolf before.
That was his second mistake.
The creature had spotted Dipper, all right. When that werewolf pounced on the boy, ready to eviscerate him with its claws, something—or rather, someone—had intervened. Bullets had rang out suddenly, catching both Dipper and the werewolf off guard. Dipper, thankful that the gunplay had prevented the wolf from slicing him in half, had taken the opportunity to run like hell.
So, here he was, sprinting as fast as his legs could carry him, his young heart jackhammering in his rib cage. He could only imagine the look on Grunkle Stan and Mabel's faces when they found out what he had seen. Stan would probably tell the kid off, dismissing Dipper's encounter as the boy's own paranoia. More likely than not, Mabel might believe her brother, but she'd probably be more concerned about stitching her torn sweater back together than listening to Dipper's story.
Dipper kept on running, only stopping when his knees threatened to give out from exhaustion. As he leaned on a moss-covered tree, panting for air, he could barely hear voices in the background.
"Sir…the infected target has been…no, he got away," a voice stated, the space between the unknown person and Dipper causing the conversation to fade in and out like a broken car stereo. "Copy that…spread out…the boss…him alive."
Dipper noticed a group of about three or four men, all armed with various firearms, and all wearing black combat uniforms. Through his limited view, the kid could barely make out the red and white shoulder patch on each of the outfits. The soldiers—at least, Dipper assumed they were soldiers—began moving in his direction, their weapons ready to fire. Questions raced through Dipper's mind? Who were these guys? Why did they refer to that werewolf as infected, and what was the creature infected with?
It took a second for the boy to realize those soldiers were after him. When it finally clicked, Dipper crept away slightly, hoping to move past the troopers without any of them noticing. Given how they were armed, and how mysterious they looked, chances were they wouldn't show mercy to him just because he was an unarmed teen.
The thirteen-year-old waited until the soldiers weren't looking, then bolted away the first chance he got. He had to get back to the Mystery Shack, and warn Grunkle Stan and Mabel, and he needed to warn them fast! Already he could see the sky begin to grow dark. Grunkle Stan had warned him not to stay out late, after all. His family would get worried and start searching for him soon, and if they came across those soldiers…
Dipper tried not to dwell on what would happen in such a scenario.
He was so caught up in his thoughts that he barely had time to react as he tripped over a tree root. The boy's face made brutal contact with the mud and twigs that littered the forest, and a pained cry escaped his lips before he could stop himself.
Dipper slowly opened his eyes, and had to bite his tongue to keep from screaming, lest the soldiers find him.
The werewolf's carcass lay dead at the younger twin's feet, bullet holes riddling the corpse. The boy felt sick to his stomach at the sight, but he couldn't turn his head away. He reluctantly nudged the body with his foot, letting out a sigh of relief when the dead werewolf didn't move. Dipper had seen enough horror movies to know that the monster or killer always might come back for revenge later.
He was about to head back to the Mystery Shack when he noticed something lying on the ground. It was his sketch pad. In his hurry to escape, Dipper had completely forgotten about it. As he jogged over to retrieve the book, Dipper found himself staring in curiosity.
Hadn't the notebook been closed when he dropped it?
Concern overwhelmed the boy as he stared at the page. Dipper now knew someone had found his sketch pad. He could tell from the crudely-constructed message drawn right next to the unfinished werewolf sketch.
He found himself skimming through the newly-written note before he realized it:
You can't run forever!
Four words. Four words was all it took for Dipper's heart to start racing again. Someone was watching him. Someone was hunting him. But who, and why?
Dipper roughly pushed the concerns out of his brain. The threatening note could wait. Right now, he needed to get back to the Mystery Shack and warn the others. The younger twin was about to take off running again, but a noise stopped him.
Dipper froze. That noise was definitely a chuckle. A cruel chuckle, coming from behind him; one that seemed to tell Dipper how hopeless his situation was.
Next thing the boy knew, pain exploded in the back of his head.
Dipper stumbled, painfully smacking the damp ground for the second time that day. Dipper's mind yelled at him to get up, but his dazed body refused to listen. In his dimming vision, the kid could barely make out a figure kneeling beside his semi-conscious form.
The twin could tell from the familiar patch on his shoulder that this newcomer was with the soldiers hunting Dipper earlier. The man was armed with a handgun, and Dipper figured the weapon was the blunt force that had whacked him in the head to begin with. Even though the man's eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses, Dipper could tell they were filled with a coldness that made the boy's skin crawl.
"Nothing personal, young man," the assailant stated in a smooth voice. Due to the pain in his head, the kid could barely hear the apathetic response. "Call it…an experiment."
The man's foot collided with Dipper's head, and as the boy's consciousness finally gave out, he wondered what would happen to him now, or if Mabel and Stan would even notice he was gone.
For his family's sake, Dipper hoped they wouldn't end up in the same situation he did.
I actually had a dream involving the characters of Gravity Falls and Resident Evil. After a little thought, and some research, and this creation was born.
I'm thinking about continuing this, and if there's anything I can improve on, I'd be happy to listen. Thanks, and have a great day! :)
Disclaimer: I own none of the franchises involved in this story. They all are property of their respective owners.