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Dipper and Mabel crept as quietly as they could down the creaky pine stairs, cringing with every gradual groan of the old wood. After what felt like hours of tenderly sneaking down the stairs, Mabel brushed the hair from her eyes and beamed at him, holding open the screen door. She wore one of her traditional sweaters, this one with a rainbow on it, whereas Dipper was wearing a pocketed blue jacket to ward off the chill. The morning sun was just barely peeking over the rim of the massive bowl in the mountains, and Dipper stood with his backpack slung over one shoulder. He had to keep his mouth from hanging open at the sight. Mabel was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, pulling him forward and down the wooden porch.

"Oh, please," Mabel took a little bow and ushered her brother forward with a slight English accent. "After you, lord Dippingsauce."

"After you, madame," he replied in the same accent, grinning.

"Oh but I must insist."

"Quite quite."

"Jovial."

"Indeed."

"Pish posh."

"Tish posh."

Dipper and Mabel stared at each other for a moment before stifling their snickers. They treaded carefully over the crunching pine needles, with Dipper following Mabel into the woods. He took in a deep breath of the crisp early morning air, unable to keep the small smile off of his face. Ever since he and Mabel had been children they had snuck out in the wee hours of the morning to go explore the woods nearby their house. At first it had been a daring escape from the constant aura of anxiety, tension and bickering that their parents provided, a temporary relief from the woes of the world as they meandered through the peaceful, wooded enclaves. Afterwards however they made it a regular ordeal, waking up just as the sun rose and walking through the woods, chattering amicably amongst themselves. Dipper enjoyed these times, regardless of how brief they had grown to be.

"It's right up here," Mabel pointed eagerly, picking up the pace a little with a smile. "It's the weird rock that I saw yesterday..."

"Why were you all the way out here in the woods by yourself, then?" Dipper asked as he struggled to hop over a log that Mabel nimbly leapt over.

"Exploring," she said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Duh."

"Grunkle Stan hasn't been keeping you busy with chores, then?" Dipper asked trying to mask his disdain, but the bitterness slipped off his tongue regardless. Mabel frowned, tucking her hands into her armpits.

"I'm sure that Grunkle Stan is-is a little rough around the edges..." she began awkwardly as they walked.

"He's about as smooth as sandpaper," Dipper replied dryly.

"He's not that bad," Mabel said without much conviction, continuing to lead the way, threading through the heavy pines. "I mean, sure, he's a little, um, grumpy, but that doesn't mean that he's a bad guy."

"Have you heard the way he talks to me?" Dipper scowled. "It's like spending all day with Dad."

Dipper cringed the moment that he said it; he saw, he could feel the discomfort radiating from Mabel.

"... Sorry," he rubbed the back of his neck, tilting his hat over his eyes. "I know we promised not to bring up Mom and Dad on this 'vacation'." Dipper finished the last word with air quotes.

"Don't worry about it," Mabel gently placed a hand on his shoulder. His breath suddenly caught in his throat, and he had to force himself to keep his eyes downward. "You're gonna love this rock, trust me."

"I can hardly wait," Dipper said blankly. "I'm positively dripping with anticipation."

"Gross," Mabel grinned at him. "The less I know about your drippings, the better."

Dipper snorted at that and pushed her shoulder, laughing with her.

"What's so special about a rock, anyway?" Dipper asked after a few minutes of silent walking. "I mean, it's just a rock."

"You know those books you used to read?" Mabel answered.

"Which ones?"

"You know, the ones with all of the recorded weird stuff in the world."

"Good Christmas present, by the way," he thanked her quietly.

"Well," she met his gaze as she lifted a branch, revealing their destination. "I think this might belong in that book."

Dipper followed her closely into the enclosed area, and right away he could feel that something was wrong. Although the sun was shining brightly in the little glade and the knee high grass swayed gently in the breeze, he could still feel it, some primal part of his mind screaming at him to retreat. At first it was easy to ignore; it was a quiet voice, one that he was sure was irrational. However, as he followed Mabel beneath the low hanging branches he spotted the before mentioned 'rock', and suddenly a little piece of him didn't find the sudden dread all so irrational any longer. It wasn't so much a rock as it was a small boulder, shaped curiously like a trashcan sized fist comprised entirely of mossy sandstone. At first glance it almost seemed to be reaching up to the sky, plunging directly out of the earth as if the remnants of a stone giant slumbered beneath. He stared at it with wide eyes, and the little voice began to pipe up again as they approached. Mabel held her arms out to display it as if she were a game show host revealing the grand prize, even throwing in a little 'ta-dah'. Upon closer inspection, Dipper discovered that the stone fist in question appeared to have six fingers rather than five. He rubbed his chin with his palm, thinking to himself.

"So...?" Mabel asked as she walked around it. "Pretty cool find for my first foray into the freakin' forest, neh?"

"It's..." Dipper began, uncertain of what to say. "... Bizarre, to say the least. I've never seen anything like it before."

"I know, right?" Mabel peered around the corner, inspecting the knuckles. "Do you think somebody carved this?"

"They must have," Dipper checked the front, musing aloud. He prodded around and underneath the giant stone fingers, perhaps hoping to find a bird's nest or something equivalent. "I mean, there's no way that this thing was formed naturally. Someone must have gone through great lengths to create this... thing."

"How?"
"I think the real question here is why," Dipper prodded one of the fingers, running his hand down the smooth sandstone. Surprisingly, something coarse and jagged met his touch when he tried to inspect the sixth digit. A small, crimson set of levers were hidden just beneath one of the fingers. Dipper almost motioned for Mabel, but saw that she was still busy on the opposite side. Quietly tilting his head to better peer at the levers, Dipper gave a couple of them experimental adjustments.

There was a soft grinding noise that Dipper almost missed; much to his amazement, a little rectangular hole had been carved into the stone fist with the hatch sliding open, housing a small, velvet red book. He pulled it out of the hole and dusted it, revealing what might have been genuine golden paint with a six fingered hand on the front. A large black letter three was scribbled neatly onto the front, and Dipper flipped open the pages in mild shock. His mind reeled even further into the book, wherein lay dozens, if not hundreds of encoded messages, some even written in Egyptian hieroglyphs. It was filled to the brim with a humongous selection of fantastical creatures and sketched images of impossible flora. Dipper flipped to the front of the book's pages with in befuddlement. Seemingly the only message actually written in plain text was a warning at the beginning of the book.

If you are reading this message, then the worst has come to pass. I could not stop what was bound to ensue. You must take this book to the furthest corner of the Earth. It's knowledge must not be allowed to fall into the wrong hands. Herein recorded is one of the only surviving log of the oddities inhabiting this area. This book is a door to a range of thought which can never be closed. Do what must be done, and get out of Gravity Falls as fast as you can. Get yourself and this book as far away from Gravity Falls as you possibly can, and then keep going. Whatever you do, you must not stay here. Take the book and run.

If you do not, then god have mercy on your soul.

Remember: TRUST NO ONE.

"What'cha got there?" Mabel poked her head over his shoulder. Dipper yelped and snapped the book shut, swiftly sticking it behind his back.

"Mabel!" he hissed. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"What are you doing with your arm behind your back like that?" Mabel bent her body a bit to try looking behind him. "You got some nerd thing?"

"Uh, it's-it's nothing," he lied quickly.

"Pffft. 'Uh, uh, it's nothing,'" snorted. "Are you seriously not going to show me?"

"It's... this book," he sheepishly pulled his hand out from behind him. "I found it inside the statue."

"Seriously? Who keeps a book inside of a rock?" Mabel leaned over his shoulder, flipping the pages. Dipper suddenly stopped breathing for a moment as Mabel inspected the strange book before taking a step back.

"... That's-" Dipper started.

"Pretty disgusting," Mabel turned away from what appeared to be a finely detailed image of a skeletal man with part of his brain hanging out of his skull. Dipper slowly closed the book and tucked it into his blue jacket. He decidedly refused to tell Mabel the bit in the front, and gradually drew her away from the six fingered fist and back toward the Mystery Shack. Some of the codes in the books were ones that Dipper was certain that he could decipher.

He had studying to do.

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