It had been 6 years since Dipper had last been in Gravity Falls, Oregon. She was 12 at the time, completely infatuated with the paranormal beings and happenings of the small mountain town. Her and her twin brother, Mason, would spend days in the woods logging on fae people and nights trying to figure out who that godforsaken journal belonged to. When the pair returned home to California, Dipper brought the book with her. Nothing was quite the same after the trip. Dipper would study the journal for hours upon days, and hers and Mason's bond weakened ridiculously. The two hardly stood in the same room without nasty looks The truth was wearing her down to dust- being away from Gravity Falls was.

Dipper jerked up sleepily from resting her head on the table with a slight groan. Mason looked at Dipper, remaining quiet,and poured some coffee into a heavily decorated mug. Since the twins moved in together, Mason started taking jobs over passive aggressively.

"You really need to catch up on your sleep," Mason said, noting how the brunette slumped back over after sipping her coffee. Mason poured his own.

Dipper adjusted her truckers cap and huffed, "I have plenty of enough sleep, Mason. You only need 7-and-a-half hours to sleep. I fit in there."

"You were up until dawn, I can see your light. You aren't foolin' me."

Dipper opened her mouth to respond and then slouched back again, pulling her cap down further and facing the other way. Mason looked at Dipper and slightly shook his head with a sigh, reaching across their gingham clothed table to the mail. Atop the stack was a sealed envelope with neat handwriting addressed to; "Mr. Mason Pines and Ms. "Dipper" Pines."

Mason evaluated the letter and then licked down the spine of it, dampening it so he could easily tear down the crease with his nail. Inside the envelope was a letter littered with coffee stains and the smell of cheap alcohol. Mason audibly made a disgusted noise. He unfolded the paper and flattened it out. His eyes skimmed through it to the signature, where a shaky hand had signed; "Stanford Pines."

"Dip," Mason spoke cautiously, looked over at the exasperated Dipper. He handed the letter to her, Dipper taking it quickly. She held it close to her face and knocked her hat further back onto her head so she could read. "

Mason and Dipper Pines,

It's been awhile since we've talked last, and awhile since you visited your own Grunkle up here in Gravity Falls. I've talked your parents about the mess of you two coming back up for the Summer. The Mystery Shack is still in business, but running short on staff with Wendy being busy with finishing up college. Soos hasn't changed a bit since you were 12, believe it or not. He took the old attic where you will hopefully staying. I'll extend the offer for you two to come up and visit the ol' Shack. If you're ever in need of a summer job, you know where to find one.

Love from your Grunkle,

Stanford Pines"

Dipper set the letter down and looked at her lap for a few moments, twiddling her thumbs and gnawing on her lip. Mason waited for Dipper to speak, leaning on his elbow and gazing at her. She stopped her idle movements and looked up, flattening the letter out completely on the table.

"Lets leave tomorrow."

The ride from Piedmont, California to Gravity Falls was about an 8 hour drive. For Dipper, it felt longer than that. Their luggage was stuffed into all available space in the back of their 1987 model Volvo, Mason's obnoxiously loud music playing. Mason hardly ever drove on the long rides, he got easily distracted and complained about Dipper's song choice. She saved herself the trouble by driving the 8 hours straight. She had to admit, the scenery of the drive was incredible.

It was late into the evening when the twins arrived back at the Mystery Shack. It was chilly and raining, the gravel driveway easily muddy. Steam blew from the chimney and a warm, friendly glow illuminated the dark paneling of the shack. Mason was fast asleep in the passenger seat, head tilted back with his mouth slightly open. Dipper looked at him and pulled the keys from ignition. She nudged her twin with her elbow.

"Welcome home."

The two only grabbed the luggage necessary for the night, the rain picking up steadily. A gust of wind knocked Dipper's hat back, falling onto the gravel. She juggled the luggage in one arm and leaned down to grab it, facing the dark woods. She kept eye contact on the forest for a few moments while she put her hat back on. It felt as if something was staring right back. Dipper heard leaves and sticks crunch somewhere, coming close to her quickly. The noise got closer and closer and closer-

"Dipper, come on!"

Dipper jumped out of her skin. Mason was standing on the porch, his hand on a door knob. Dipper readjusted the luggage in her arm, giving one last look into the deep forest, a chill running down her spine and up her arms. She jogged through the rain to Mason, offering a muttered 'sorry.' He held the door open and followed in quickly. They dropped their stuff on the old couch.

"Eugh, what's all the ruckus about?" a familiar voice rasped, coming into the living room doorway. Grunkle Stan hadn't changed an ounce since they last saw him 6 years ago. He was a bit greyer, she supposed, but his appearance hadn't worsened or improved. The old man rubbed a hand down his face and yawned, obviously woken from a nap or sleep. He harshly blinked his eyes, almost confused like at the twins standing in the middle of the living room. Mason stepped up and hugged him tight, snapping their Grunkle out of the surprised daze. Dipper joined in on the hug, wrapping her arm around them both. It felt right, this felt right. She felt home for the first in 6 years.

When Grunkle pulled away, Mason was quick to grab their luggage. He started upstairs when Grunkle Stan raised his voice with a quick, "hey."

Mason turned around, bags grasped in his hands.

"Soos is, uh, still using your room. I'll chase 'em out tomorrow, but until then you're stuck down here on the couch. I wasn't expecting you two."

Dipper didn't particularly mind sleeping on the floor, her bed back at home was probably harder. Mason was more of the kind to complain in the morning about the lack of sleep from sleeping on the floor. Any sleep was good sleep to her. She, without a complaint, started to pile blankets neatly on the ground with her dark blue pillow at the end. She left only a bare two blankets to cover herself, easily getting hot in the night. Mason settled in easily to the couch, tucked down underneath the pile of blankets.

Stan assured that they were fine for the night and returned to his bedroom. With the lights off, it was much darker than she had planned. Her eyes watched as her fingers traced the crease of the blankets, wandering across the floor to her tossed bag that came unzipped. The journal sat mockingly, the hand reflecting just an ounce of light from the moon filtering in the window. Dipper chewed her lip and looked back at Mason, who laid fast asleep on the couch, lightly snoring. She turned back around.

Her hand starting sliding towards the leather bound journal, nails slightly scraping across the worn wooden floors. It was just in reach now. Her hand glided to the top of journal, the leather rough against her fingerpads. It'd been awhile since she last opened the journal, less read it. She lightly drug it back to her side, grabbing the flashlight that stood by her pillow. She flickered the light on and pulled the covers over her head, diluting the light from Mason.

Dipper flipped it to a random page, being that of the 'Gnomes.' A small smile lit her face at the fading memory of them trying to make Mason their king. Back then, when Mason had lengthy hair, they believe he was a girl. Dipper always joked about how that was Mason's first boyfriend, and he'd shove her away. Her finger ran over the lightly indented lines of the drawing, where the Author pressed too hard. She flipped through the pages and stopped randomly again.

It opened to the scale of Ghosts. The friendly ghost marked number one, and a more sinister and ghastly looking ghoul marked number ten. That same summer Dipper had helped the town's personal demon, Pacifici Northwest, get rid of a category 10 ghost from his manor. Pacifici really proved to be more than he let show, doing the right thing and letting all the townspeople into the party. That summer, she swore that she was in love with him, until she caught him planting a kiss on Mason. She wondered if he still held the party every summer.

Dipper thumbed through the pages, stopping occasionally to read them and remember a time. The edges of paper was starting to wear and yellow from everything it went through. Dipper ran her finger down the edge of the paper, the ridges tickling her finger. She flipped to the last page of journal. Bill Cipher.

The mind demon's triangle form was drawn. It had his name is big, swoopy cursive letters. The page seemed to be splattered in blood or red ink, with 'DO NOT SUMMON AT ALL COSTS!' written crudely in the same ink, or blood. He, was perhaps, her least favorite memory. A chill ran down her spine remembering the way it felt to be taken from her body. Watching him and Mason tangle around in a mess to take the book. When she got back into the body, her arms had deep cuts from forks, and at least one of her arms were broken. Not to mention, she was incredibly tired. Although the mess he made, she wondered if he might be the tape that repairs hers and Mason's relationship. She'd never let her twin know, but she missed being Mystery Twins.

Her eyes drawled over the words to summoning him, her hands weakening her stomach tightening at the thought of summoning the demon. What would he want from her wanting to repair a relationship? Would her body become another puppet, or would Mason's? Even if he couldn't fix their relationship, she just wanted Mason back to normal for everyone. He was such a depressing case, going from a bubbly teen to such a quiet and introverted adult. She knew she had to do with it too. Maybe Bill wouldn't be such a bad idea. Dipper chewed her lip again.

She flipped off the flashlight and pushed the journal back into her back, turning on her side to look at Mason's sleeping face. Maybe she would. With that last thought, she slowly blinked her eyes and fell asleep. He watched.

*line thing*

Dipper woke up that next morning early, rubbing her childlike. Mason was already up, his blankets neatly folded on the couch. She slipped on some khaki shorts and her orange tee and folded the blankets that she used for her palette, stacking atop of Mason's. She put up her beach curled hair into something like a bun and headed into the kitchen. Grunkle Stan and Mason were talking in hushed tones over coffee, stopping and looking at Dipper when she walked into. Stan looked as if he were going to say something, but stopped himself as she walked into the kitchen and grabbed a granola bar and headed out. If they wanted to talk together, then she'd let them.

She headed out into the forest to find whatever was staring at her last night. Her bag containing the journal was tossed on one shoulder as she backpacked through the Oregonian forests. A small stream trickled off in the forest, making a quiet whispy noise in the forest. Trees held chittering and chirping birds, morning sun dripping from the green leaves and casting designs of the sun onto the forest brush. Out of the corners of her eyes she could see odd and paranormal creatures- three eyed bunnies, gnomes, you name it. They watched her curiously but lost attention and continued on their morning routines.

Dipper was following a trail she must have made when she was younger, heading to a waterfall where she'd sit and study the journal and Mason would swim. She'd always end up cooling off with him in the cold cave water. Dipper brought her swimsuit, in case things got better between them. She hadn't swam in years. She didn't really have friends to do so with.

She met the waterfall where she spent her days. It still ran incredibly, her rock starting to be covered by intruding moss. The pool of water was clear and crisp, the mute noise of the water crashing into water. It was just as peaceful as she remembered it being. Dipper walked over to the cove and ran her fingers in the water, it curling and passing through her fingers. A chill ran down her spine. Fish curiously swam away but around her fingers, eyeballing her. She sat down on her rock and took off her messily tied shoes and socks and dipped her feet into the water. She let out an audible noise of pleasure as the cool rocks met her feet, she waded into the water farther. The cool water touched her knees, tickling and reaching towards her thighs. The spray of the waterfalling caught drops in her pinebark colored hair. A laugh rose in her throat.

Before she could understand what she was doing, she was jumping around and twirling and splashing in the mountain pool. Her toes curled as the cold water splashed onto her upper body. It was utterly refreshing on the hot summer day. She danced around in the water until she tired and headed to the rock. Dipper looked around the small clearing. No one really came to this place, there'd be no harm in shedding clothes, right? Deciding she was right, she slipped off her outer and undergarments and waded back into the pool. She lowered herself in the water until only her nose and above were visible. The water was crisp and cold, tickling her body. Dipper freed her hair from the hairband and replaced it on her wrist. She threw her head back and soaked her hair into the cold water. Icy tendrils brushed at her scalp. She hummed.

Dipper must have spent all morning at the cove, coming back to the Mystery Shack about lunch time. She let her hair and clothes dry at the waterfall before coming back as not to raise suspicions of her whereabouts. Instead of a messy buns, two long braids had replaced it. When she made it back to the Shack, Soos was working the gift shop. A few tourists were in there, and didn't seem to mind a slightly muddy girl walking in. She assumed Stan had told him the news, because his face was a bit melancholic.

"Soos," Dipper said, leaning on the counter. He seemed to be lifted from a daze.

"Woah, dude! It's been like, forever! You look totally different. I can call you dude, right?" Soos greeted, sitting up.

"Nothing's changed, go ahead," Dipper laughed, tapping her fingers on the counter. "Kind of insensitive, but you've moved out of the attic already now, right?"

Soos' face dropped and he rested his chin on his pudgy hand. "Yep, Stan's already kicked me out."

Dipper stood straight and offered him a friendly, 'bye,' before heading into the living room to grab her bags. Her bags were absent from the couch, most presumably being taken by Mason already to their room. She adjusted her bag on her shoulder and headed up to her old room. She knocked once on the wooden door and walked in. Mason was sitting on his bed, reading a magazine and occasionally checking his phone. Dipper's stuff was neatly put away, pillows on her bed. She slung off her bag onto the bed and sat down, unloading it. Nothing was said between them two, just the sound of her rummaging through her bag and the tapping off Mason's nails on the phone. He stood abruptly and turned to Dipper, "I'm meeting up with Gunter and Candan. I'll be back later tonight."

She nodded and watched as he left, listening until his footsteps faded out. She sucked her teeth and tucked her bag between the nightstand and her bed. Dipper collapsed back onto the bed and sighed loudly. She didn't have friends here in Gravity Falls either, she used to just hang out with Mason. That's what she gets for relying solely on her twin's company. Dipper rolled onto her side and looked at the journal on the end table. Maybe she really did need Bill's help.

Without a thought, she plucked it from the bedside table and sat up, flipping to the demon's information page. She read through the directions of summoning and clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth. Her finger followed until the last word. 'Eight candles? Maybe I still have those candles in the closet..'

Dipper got up and rummaged in the closet. A lot of her old marked boxes were torn and spilling, probably from Soos staying in the attic. She searched through the last box, her eyes coming across her 16 candles she had just in case she needed to exorcise or summon anything. She usually kept them in her bag. Dipper pulled them out and set the extra aside in her back, placing them in a neat circle. She went to each candle and set the wick aflame. Next.

She took a frame picture of her and Mason and grabbed a red marker of Mason's laying near by. Dipper crossed out his eyes on the glass frame and set it in the middle of the formatted candles. She grabbed the journal off the bed and kneeled in front of the altar of candles and a picture. Placing her left hand on the journal page, she looked at the picture of Mason and knitted her eyebrows.

"Triangulum, entangulum.

Meteforis dominus ventium.

Meteforis venetisarium!"

The room started to drain of color, sepia running down the walls like fresh tar. Dipper panicked a bit, but continued on with the ritual. If it was for the sake of Mason, she'd do it.

"Asetnoheptus, Asetnoheptus, Asetnoheptus, Asetnoheptus, Asetnoheptus!" she chanted, wind tossing her hair from her face. She dropped the journal and shielded her eyes as a bright gold triangle shape appeared to grow from the pattern in the window.

notes

if you've read this far, here's a prewarning for the rest of the series. this is, and will get dark. that's why horror's up in that junk. it'll will include blood play, knife play, stockholm syndrome, masochism, sadism, manipulation, abuse- all that fun stuff. also, bill's a class a+ masochistic dominate

dark bill is so much more fun than fluffy bill

who else would bring on the apocalypse?

x ere