A/N: Look on my profile for how things are going to work. As for this story, it's a mix of Goosebumps,, Gravity Falls, So Weird, Eerie Indiana, and a bit of the X-Files. As usual I own nothing but the result of this amalgamation of tv shows. Everything belongs to their respectful owners.
Ah summer vacation, a time of rest and relaxation. Unless you're one Mason Stine-Pines, who is always on the look out for the strange, the unusual, and the weird. On a hill looking over a random city in a random state in the United States of America was a young boy about twelve ten years of age with brown hair, fair skin, and brown eyes wearing a black long coat, red t-shirt, dark blue- almost black -pants with white socks, and grey shoes that had white soles. In his right hand was a smith corona typewriter with the initials R.L and the word Stine in gold on it; while in his left hand was a black suitcase with the initials M.S-P on it. Atop the hill was a picnic table, complete with the stereotypical red and white checkered cloth.
Mason sat down at the table and opened the typewriter before opening the suitcase, and taking out it's contents: a stack of paper, a manuscript cover, a pencil and notepad, a couple bottles of ink, and a paperweight to hold the papers down on the table. Cautiously placing the first piece of paper into the machine, Mason took the notepad and pencil and began writing on it, occasionally erasing what he had written with a small scowl on his face. Before long he set the notepad and pencil down with a content look on his face. He cracked his fingers and began typing; amongst the clicks of the typewriter, the dings of the reel, and the switching of the paper, a shadowy G appeared out of the typewriter and was swept into the city by an ominous wind.
The city began to morph, twist, change and contort whenever the G passed over something, and before long the big prosperous city was replaced by a small town. Time had seemingly stopped as large, dark, and ominous clouds appeared from nowhere and bringing the thunderous roars of lightning with them. Only the constant ringing, dinging, and clicking of the typewriter could be heard for miles of nothingness as the words typed on the pages swapped time and time again formed into a cohesive tale of horror. A tale of kids plagued by supernatural strangeness, foes of twisted imagination and making, and twist of insurmountable proportions.
Soon enough the clouds dispersed, the ominous winds stopped, and the ringing, dinging and clicking stopped altogether as the final page was carefully removed from the typewriter and placed into the manuscript with its other brethren, completing the book and it's tale. The small town had returned to being a city, and time had seemed to move forward again as Mason packed up his things, took both the suitcase and the typewriter into their respective hands, and walked down the hill.
At the bottom of said hill was a limousine, pitch black in color with one way windows, making it impossible to see anyone on the inside. The door opened to reveal a teenage girl of about 16 years of age with blue eyes, brown hair, and fair skin wearing a purple t-shirt, light blue jeans, white socks and black shoes sitting next to a bespectacled man somewhere in his 30's or 40's with a somewhat receding brown hair, blue eyes, and fair skin wearing a black turtleneck, blue pants, black socks and black shoes.
"Are you going to just stand there or get in bookworm?" The girl said with a teasing smile adorning her face.
Mason rolled his eyes in amusement before getting in, "I have permission to write something about you Hannah, remember?"
Hannah narrowed her eyes at the man next to her and spoke in a tone saturated in retrained annoyance, "I know, don't remind me." Said man whistled and looked out the window in slight fear as the limo began moving.
"I take it the writing session went well," a man in his mid 30's spoke in a polite tone somewhat laced with worry, "as good as the others I hope."
Mason gave the man a reassuring look, "Don't worry Mr. Northwest, I loved the spot, perfect for summer writing."
Preston gave out a sigh of relief at the boy's words, "It was a pleasure to be of assistance, and my other way of saying thanks for helping with that ghost problem." A girl about 10 or 11 years old rolled her eyes at her father. She had long hair that was bleach blonde, blue eyes, fair skin, and wore a black designer t-shirt with big hot pink NW on the back, white designer sports jeans specifically made to handle dirt and grim- seriously the stuff never stuck onto those pants, ever -white socks and black maryjane shoes. She got up while the limo was still going slow and sat next to Mason, who managed to make some room for her.
The bespectacled man softly smiled at the scene before turning to Preston. "Now Mr. Northwest, I do believe we have both held up all of the ends of the bargain; in return for helping with the ghost, and writing for Northwests Printings, you are to continue to let the common folk into the annual party, and let those two rascals date."
"Of course Mr. Stine, I didn't forget, and in all honesty I was going to let both the former and the latter happen regardless; one can only act like an uncaring snob for so long before the one failing to plant such ideologies into your head finally croaks." Preston said as he winked at Mr. Stine.
Mason looked at the two with a blush on his face, glaring at the two, only to be ignored. Before he could make a comment, the girl tapped his shoulder causing him to turn to her, and see that she had the book he just wrote.
"It is safe to open and read right?" She said, putting emphasis on safe, open, and read.
"Of course," Mason said with pride, "this manuscript was made with Oddtonium a rare mineral practically made of weirdness, it can both cause and prevent it if processed the right way." The girl shook her head in amusement at Mason's over complicated answer to her simple question, but couldn't help but love him for it all the same. She scooted closer to him and opened the book to the front page.
"Then you wouldn't mind reading it to me right." She said as she gave him a sly look.
Mason, seeing the look responded accordingly, "Don't worry Pacifica I'll protect you from any spooky monsters that come out of the pages." Pacifica playfully elbowed his gut with a laugh for that, and handed the book to him.
Mason cleared his throat, aware that everyone in the limo was patiently waiting to hear his latest work. "Goosebumps: Terror TV; 500 Channels, and no way to survive!"
If you were looking forward to updates to Gravity-Bumps or Weird Falls, then I am sorry to say that this will be taking their places. If you want you can adopt the two stories, just PM me.