The rumble of the decade old car could be heard throughout the neighborhood as Lydia Haddleback whipped onto her street and into her driveway. Situated between her parents cars, Lydia threw her vehicle into park, grabbed her bag and bounced out. She kicked the door shut and fumbled with her key to get it locked, and then she jogged up to the house. Once inside, she let out a huff.

"Don't leave your shoes by the door! And dinner will be ready in like, 5 minutes!"

Her mother's voice drifted to the front room from the kitchen. Lydia groaned and picked up her smelly grease covered work shoes and tossed them into the closet. She ran up the stairs and into her bedroom. She peeled off the rest of her work clothes. They smelled like the burger joint where she worked. In fact, everything she owned smelled like that place. After sniffing a few different shirts she settled on one and put on a pair of shorts before sitting down on her bed and opening her laptop.

She logged on to her blog, scanning the newest posts of her followers. Her screen was full of urban legends and folklore, ghosts and ghouls. A string of amateur photographs accompanied all of the narratives. Lydia herself had created some posts. She had always had an interest in the supernatural and the plain weird, but it wasn't until the summer after she graduated high school that she had begun to explore. The past three weeks had given her more questions than answers.

A faint 'beep' took her eye to the bottom of her screen where she noticed a flashing red envelope, indicating she had an email. With her eyes burrowed together, she opened it up.

Lydia,

My name is Dipper, and I run Dipper's Guide to the Unexplained. I recently saw your post about the Astoria Lighthouse Haunting and the legend of Muriel. I am extremely intrigued in this story. I don't know if you're aware of my guide, but I've recently been teaming up with fellow Oregonians who dabble in the paranormal and unexplained. Just messaging you to see if you'd want to finally solve this mystery.

Dipper Pines

Though the email felt like a solicitation, Lydia clicked on the link to his page and was pleasantly surprised with the professional look and sleek design of his page. His most recent post was titled 'Case #1,502: The Search for the Deer Woman'. He used a mixture of photos, a master video, and some narrative. From a quick once over, Lydia noted it was a team-up case.

"Lydia! Dinner!"

"Just a minute!" She hollered back, as she seamlessly opened up her email to reply.

Dipper,

As long as you're not a creepy kidnapping killer, I'd love to have some help with this case. I'm relatively new to exploring mysteries, and to be honest, I have no idea what I'm doing.

Lydia

"Seriously, Lydia!"

Rolling her eyes, she sent the message and closed her laptop, zooming downstairs. Her family sat at the kitchen table, waiting for her.

"We only eat together one day a week and you still can't make it on time?" Her mom questioned.

"I just got home, sorry," Lydia apologized, sliding into a chair.

Surrounding her was he parents and her two siblings, Annie and Nick. Annie was three years younger than Lydia, at 15. She doubled as both a theater and band member, and was constantly busy with some project or practice. Even during the summer, she participated in local theater and had band practice. Nick was older, a fresh 24, who drove nearly two hours home to Astoria every Sunday for dinner. He lived in Portland where he worked his first post-college job as a marketing assistant and a stiff suit and tie business. And then there were her parents, Joyce and David. Her dad was an outdoorsman type- big into hunting and fishing. When she was younger, Lydia would tag along on the trips with her dad, but as she grew she lost interest in the sports. He managed a sportsman store in town where he had plenty of opportunity to divulge in his passions. Her mother was a pediatric nurse who worked a string of long shifts during the week, and enjoyed getting together with her family for dinner on Sundays.

"Mom made cupcakes for later," Annie stated as she began to spoon potatoes on her plate. "Red velvet ones… and chocolate ones for you, since you are un-American and hate red velvet."

"It's gross," Lydia shuttered, "More chocolate for me. Whatever."

"So, how was work?" Her mom questioned, trying to shift the conversation.

Lydia shrugged, "It was work. I'm tired, and I smell, though."

"That's for sure," Annie snorted.

Nick smiled, "You smell worse than my hippie neighbor who literally only bathes when it rains outside, Lyds. Only when it rains! He stands out on his patio in his soggy underwear and scrubs down with a bar of soap."

Her family couldn't help but snicker, and even Lydia cracked a smile.

"I can't help it! You know what I smell? Money."

"Keep that attitude and you'll go far," Her dad nodded.

"No, you'll end up like mom and dad who work themselves into comas," Nick corrected. "Take my approach: just coast. Are you declaring a major this fall? Seriously, marketing is a breeze. Or if you really want to be lazy and make a lot of money go into computers."

"Nick, you're just insanely lucky. If it wasn't for the four leaf clover on your ass, you would not be as well of from 'coasting' as you are," Their dad gruffed, referring to the birth mark on Nick's bottom that resembled a four leaf clover. It was a running gag in their family that it was the source of all his good fortune.

"I'm declaring Geology."

"That's news to us," Her mom mused.

Nick injected, "That's probably more worthless than Psychology."

"You're worthless, Nick," Lydia snapped.

"Lydia!" Her mom warned. "And Nick, stop. You went through how many majors before you stuck with marketing?"

"I won't switch," Lydia piped. "It's what I want to do."

"They all say that," Her dad said with a half-smile.

"Yeah, yeah," Lydia mumbled, shoveling a spoonful of corn into her mouth.

For the rest of the dinner span, her family discussed college, a topic that made Lydia sick to her stomach. For her entire high school career she had looked forward to college, and now it was facing her and she was terrified. She had decided to go to school at the University of Washington in Seattle, a three hour drive from her hometown of Astoria. She was going somewhere new where she didn't have any friends or family, and she was afraid. Her stomach churned at the thought… so she just didn't think about it anymore than she had to.

She excused herself from the table as soon as she could, grabbing a chocolate cupcake and heading upstairs. She quietly shut herself in her room. Throughout dinner, her mind kept drifting back to the mysterious email she received. She was hoping she had an email waiting for her. She turned her television on, curled on her bed, and opened her laptop. She nibbled on her cupcake as she waited for her system to boot up. A red envelope awaited her.

Lydia,

Thanks for responding so quickly! I'm eager to discuss times we can meet with you. I am defiantly not a kidnapping killer… which is exactly what I kidnapping killer would say, but I swear I'm not. If it isn't too unprofessional, I think it'd be easier for us to text to communicate, if that is okay with you. I'll leave my number at the bottom of the email. Can't wait to talk further about this.

Dipper

A beat skipped in Lydia's chest. She grabbed her phone and programed Dipper's number into her phone. She stared at it for a moment before setting it on the bed next to her and picking her laptop back up. She went to Dipper's Guide to the Unexplained. His profile picture was a logo, but she figured she could catch a glimpse in one of his videos. She skimmed over his bio, not gathering much information. Finally, she clicked on the video for the Deer Woman video.

It was a first person video, not showing any glimpse of the man behind the camera. Or rather, boy. It was obvious from the pitch of his voice that Dipper was younger, probably around her age. The deer woman case was in western Idaho, and he was a paired with a twenty-something looking guy named Eric, whose blog was exploding with deer woman pictures and sightings. The nearly half hour long video documented a brief summary of the story, a bit of proof, and footage of the two trekking through the woods. Near the end, things got interesting. Very obviously, Lydia could see a deer woman. Her mouth dropped as she slowed the video down and watched it a dozen times. The deer woman was real- she was there, on screen, accompanied by excited whispers of Dipper and Eric.

Lydia pushed her laptop to the side and picked up her phone, and opened up a new message.

Dipper? Hey! This is Lydia.