Playing Hide N' Seek
"Red? Stop hiding, we're both a little *twitch* old to be playing hide and seek, now aren't we?"
Wendy ignored the voice of her best friend and continued climbing the tree, trying to ignore the tears which made her vision blurry, and aches which plagued her from running for so long.
She heard the scamper of his sneakers and glanced down. Bad idea. He met her gaze with a sick grin.
"There you are…" The prey scrambled up the last part of the tree as he approached and caught her breath as she stared at the base of the tree. As he came into sight, his hair and cap prevented her from getting a good look at his face. But she didn't need one; she knew what lay there. When you came into work to find your friend covered in blood, and that disfigured, you did not forget it easily.
The creature which was and was not Dipper removed the knife he had used to cause Mabel and Stan so much pain. You could hardly see the metal of the blade for what coated it. He ran a finger along its blade, enjoying self-inflicted pain almost as much that inflicted upon others.
He swung it back and forth in the air, trying to bait out a gasp, or a whimper. Wendy became statue still, hoping he might not be able to find her in the branches. She had played many hours of Hide and Seek with her brothers and friends and had always been the last to be found.
This was different, though. This wasn't a game which would cease when he found her. No, the game would continue long after that, despite her struggles and screams.
She had to clap a hand over her mouth to prevent screaming when he lifted his gaze and grinned right at her. Those eyes, oh god those eyes, she had already seen them once, but to see them a second time made her want to weep and vomit simultaneously. His teeth had all been filed away into the jagged points which belonged only in the mouth of a shark, his forehead, once holding a charming birthmark, was now desecrated.
But the eyes were the worst. There was no question.
He licked the dried blood off of his lips, no doubt enjoying the salty taste. Silently she begged whatever powers were in the world to make him turn his head. He didn't. Instead, he blinked and addressed her in that same sly tone which didn't belong.
"See? Why go to all the trouble of hiding when I was going to find you anyway."
Terrified that he could hear the beat of her pounding heart and that he would tear it free if he found her, the redhead held her breath and pressed herself against the tree. The knowledge that she could not hold her breath forever filled her from head to toe as the seconds ticked by. From the corner of her eye, she could see that his smile turned to distaste and annoyance.
He shook his head as though a disappointed father and turned away (oh thank god, oh thank god). Mumbling something about women and their tendency to be difficult as he did so, he disappeared into the thick pines. The redhead made sure that she could no longer hear his footsteps, before she released her breath, and inhaled the clean fresh air of the wilderness.
Then a strong wind hit the tree. The branches rattled causing the teen to fall forward. She gripped another branch, her legs dangling five feet above the ground. Her grip on the bark grew more and more tenuous as the wind picked up again. Thrashed back and forth, her knuckles, white with strain, gave out. She smacked against the ground, the aches of her exhaustion not comparing in the least to the bruises she received from the fall. She groaned in pain, her vision going blurry for a moment.
Got to keep moving…got to keep moving. She rolled over and stared up at the picturesque blue sky.
The mutilated face of what was once Dipper Pines entered her vision. His head blocked the sun from blinding her, and once again she received a grin which she had no desire to witness.
"See Red, I told you that you can't get away. It would have been so much easier to just give up."
She tried to get to her feet but he placed a sneaker on top of her throat, smiling as she choked and struggled to push it off.
He pressed it down harder, "You couldn't just do as you're told. You couldn't just *twitch* do as STAY STILL!"
He kicked her in the ribs with his other foot, right where she had fallen. Her cry came out like a baby's gurgle and he giggled. Slipping a hand into the pocket of Dipper's vest, he removed the carving knife. The same once which Stan had been using to teach Mabel how to carve Jack-o-Lanterns.
The predator sat down on her chest, one foot still pressed to her neck, hard enough to make breath difficult but not heard enough to kill her. He didn't want that to come yet. Despite being winded, she managed to lift her face and look at him.
His face was livid, although the smile he had carved into the boy's cheeks suggested otherwise. The fun was over. He was getting down to business.
Even staring at him now, for the third time, he still disgusted her. The visage of her best friend had been ruined by this masochistic monster, intent that its vessel resembled the horror which dwelled within it. His skin was pale and clammy, tinted a lichen-green by the ownership of the body. He leaned down so that the blood from where his eyes had once been spilled on her. All that remained in those bloody cavities were two yellow pinpricks of light, a result of the possession.
They had replaced the warm, kind, brown orbs which she had grown to love, and now stare at her with cold hatred. The All Seeing Eye shaped wound in the center of his forehead glared down at her too. He, no, IT, had forced Dipper carve it on top of his birthmark, the final act of erasing everything that the boy once was.
Tears came to Wendy's eyes as she wondered what could have possibly driven the intelligent and brave boy she knew, to do that to himself. To relinquish control of his own body, just for…what? Knowledge? Safety? She was supposed to be his friend and all week she had just noticed he was touch more sleep deprived than normal. Was she really that self-absorbed?
He ran the knife along her leg, getting closer to her stomach and internal organs with every second, as well as drawing blood and splitting the fabric. "Don't worry Red…as Shooting Star can attest to…"
I'm so sorry Dipper…I should have been there for you. Staring at it disoriented her and made it even more difficult to struggle against him.
He ran his scarred tongue over the spots where his sister had kicked out teeth in her struggling, "...it doesn't hurt that much..."