So this one is a little more serious than what I had planned. I was going to make it longer, but I got tired so I didn't. Haha!

Dipper sank to the ground, heart pounding hard in his chest, gasping for air. How long had he been running? An hour? Longer? A twig snapped somewhere behind him. He held his breath and pressed himself farther under the fallen log he was hiding behind. His lungs felt hot and heavy.

"Dipper," the voice taunted in a sing-song voice. "I know you're here, kid. Don't you want to come out and play?"

Dipper's vision began to blur. He was seeing spots. But he couldn't pass out. Not now. Not yet. First he had to find Mabel. He had to find her and get her somewhere safe.

"Come on, Dip," the voice whined. He could hear branches being moved and bushes being rustled.

Don't find me. Don't find me.

He listened as his pursuer's footfalls crunched through the leaves and pine straw on the forest floor.

They were moving away from him.

He had to go.

Dipper waited another long minute, not daring to breath, move, or even blink until he was sure it was safe to run again. Finally, he built up his courage and made a mad dash back through the woods and to the shack.

"Mabel!" he yelled, bounding through the door. "Mabel, where are you?"

He thought he heard something coming from Stan's room. A muffled crying sound.

"Mabel?"

Dipper slowly pushed the door open and was immediately tackled by his terrified twin. Her hair was a mess, her eyes swollen from the tears that rolled down her face. He couldn't help noticing the dark stains on her sweater and the awful smells coming from them.

"Dipper! Dipper, you're safe! You're alive!" She buried her face against his chest, crying uncontrollably.

Dipper looked over his shoulder at the window. He felt like he was being watched.

I'll be watching you… the voice echoed in his mind.

"Mabel, shh." He tried desperately to calm his sister, but to no avail. She continued to cry and hyperventilate against his shirt. "Mabel, you have to be quiet. We're not safe here."

"H-he… he took him," she gasped. "He took Waddles, Dipper."

Dipper's heart sank in his gut. He hated seeing his sister upset, but he couldn't remember the last time he had seen her so broken with fear and anguish. "We'll get Waddles back, Mabel."

"N-no! He's dead! I saw him! He killed him!"

Dipper slapped his hand over his sister's mouth, silencing her. Someone had come in the house and was making their way down the hall.

He pulled Mabel into his uncle's closet and ripped Stan's suits off their hangars, throwing them over his sister to hide her. "Please be quite, Mabel," he whispered softly.

As he turned to scan the room for another place to hide he noticed the texture of the wood paneling on the walls had changed.

Eyes.

There were eyes everywhere! They were just curls in the wood grain, yes, but still he couldn't shake the feeling that they were all watching him.

Was Mabel safe? Did he know where she was?

An unnatural laugh shook the room as an unwelcome shadow fell over the floor. "Come and play my game, Dipper!" called the voice.

"Go away, go away, go away," Dipper pleaded quietly, fearful tears beginning to burn his eyes.

"Aw, come on, kid."

Dipper sat on the floor, curled into a ball and shut his eyes tight. He wanted this to be a dream. He wanted to wake up. He knew that his pursuer had reached the doorway. He knew he had to face him.

He looked up.

"Did your sister tell you what I did to her stupid pig?" he asked, eye twinkling with delight. "I'm gonna do the same to her, Dipper. And you get to watch."

Anger swelled within him, but there was nothing he could do. He was powerless to stop him. He wanted to yell. He wanted to scream. But the most that would come out was a pathetic whisper.

"Why are you doing this, Grunkle Stan?"

Stan grinned, pulling his eye patch off his head. "Easy, kid," his voice echoed eerily, as if he were not the only one speaking. "I've always loved chopping down Pine Trees."

Stan's eyes snapped open. His heart was racing and he had broken out in a sweat. Light flashed on the TV screen, illuminating the room around him. He must have fallen asleep during that last movie he was watching with the kids.

He looked down at the floor to see his great niece and nephew fast asleep at his feet and he couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped him.

Waddles nudged his hand, asking to have his head scratched. Stan complied, allowing a small smile to stretch over his lips.

With the images of his dream still fresh in his mind he bent down and scooped the kids up in his arms. Mabel wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself tightly against him and Dipper curled his head into his uncle's chest.

Stan shook his nightmare from his head, watching his nephew closely.

"I hope you know that I would kill myself before I ever let anything happen to either of you kids," he whispered to the soundly sleeping boy.

Stan slowly climbed the stairs to the attic, careful not to jostle his cargo, and made his way to their bedroom. He laid Dipper down first, then tucked Mabel into her blankets. He even went as far as lifting the pig onto the mattress to snuggle with her. He then turned back to his nephew.

Stan pulled Dipper's blanket over the boy's shoulders and sat at the end of the bed. He frowned, remembering all the things he had put Dipper through in his nightmare.

Dipper's chest rose and fell steadily. He seemed so peaceful.

Stan noticed the journal tucked under the mattress and pulled it out to flip through the pages. He landed on a page with an odd wheel and a triangle with one eye and his frown deepened.

"I'd never hurt you, kid." He smoothed Dipper's hair, feeling a lump form in his throat. He looked back at the picture in the book and glared. "I'd never hurt him."

Stan closed the book and returned it to its so-called hiding place.

He stayed on the end of the bed for another hour or so. Watching as the kids' chests rose and fell with each breath.

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