Summary: RM DSRXS WRKKVI RH NZQLIOB OZGV ULI Z NVVGRMT DRGS GSV WVERO, ZMW GSV WVERO RH MLG KOVZHVW. ZOHL: Z MVD NLMHGVI RNRGZGVH GSV KSZMGLN LU GSV LKVIZ.
The beast let out a sigh, as it silently moved through the dark woods, managing to be soundless even as the pine needles under his feet shifted. The small creature was lost, wandering alone in the recesses of the Oregon woodlands. The beast, having gotten over its melancholy, pounced on the squirming creature, emerging into the pale moonlight's sad sight. He hated the small ones, he really, truly did. The way they screamed wasn't nearly as entertaining as the big ones.
Inari's purple eyes were the first thing Dipper saw that morning, well, afternoon, seeing as the second thing Dipper saw in his dusty room in the attic was his clock, which read 12:17 PM. He must have fallen asleep again after that strange dream. His kitsune's eyes were glowing with amusement, something which made the paranormal investigator immediately Inari was excited, it was usually for a bad reason. For Dipper, that is. Damn sadist, Dipper thought was he met the midnight furred magic fox god's mirthful eyes.
His worries were partly dispelled as the kitsune curled one of it's six tails around his body and dropped Dipper's phone on his chest. The worry came back in full force and then some when he realized that Luc (pronounced 'Luke' NOT Luce. Ever.), one of his go-to contacts for information on ancient artifacts and supernatural lore, had called eight times in the past hour and a half. Groaning as a cold horror seeped into his form - and as he realized how royally pissed the good doctor was going to be at his lack of a prompt response - Dipper reluctantly got out of his warm, comfortable bed, and went about his (rather rushed) morning - afternoon now - routine.
Doctor Luc A. Morningstar was a professor of Demonology and the Hierarchy of Angels, and was known for his colossal lack of patience, that was something that had become clear in the four years Dipper had spent in the man's class. Many of the students had likened the testy teacher to the Devil himself. Dipper had his own suspicions about the man, but was wise enough not to voice them around the being himself, happy to have the help of an entity, even if the rest of the 'sane', 'normal' world was convinced said being was pure, unadulterated evil.
At the present moment, though, Dipper wished the man didn't have a hair-trigger temper and the legions of darkness at his command (Dipper was sure of this, but, so far, the theory had been left unproven). He hurried down the stairs to where Mabel and Stan sat in the living room, crowded by all of the old man's stuff. They were watching a movie that Dipper had a strong feeling was The Princess Bride, not that his grunkle would ever admit to watching such a 'monstrosity', as he called it (or any other movie Mabel liked). He waved Mabel over, and with an exasperated, but loving sigh, the girl approached her brother with her usual 'Hey, bro-bro!'
"Morning - er actually - afternoon, Mabel, I'm sorry but I really have to run," Dipper let out an apprehensive noise, "I missed a shitload of calls from Luc, he's probably gonna kill me." The words were rushed as he was dialing the professor's number and tapping his foot on the wooden floor impatiently.
Mabel winced in sympathy, having met the terrifying Luc Morningstar. Though she thought he was one of the hottest things to grace God's green Earth, the aura of power that surrounded said man never failed to scare the bejesus out of her. "Yeah, good luck with that, bro - he's totally going to murder you." She thought for a second, "And probably skin your body to make soup." Seeing her twin's slightly green face, she shrugged her shoulders, pushing her lime green sweater back up, "Just getting you prepared to meet your death." She smiled comically, "Have fun~!"
Dipper had given up on trying to call the man, and had shot him a text as he rushed out the door, with Grunkle Stan yelling: "I hope you don't expect an expensive funeral!" Well, at least he had support.
About five minutes after he had texted the professor, Luc called him, and the conversation went twice as bad as Dipper had thought it would. After the shouting, Luc had sighed and said "Look, I really need you to get your bony ass down here, Dollface," The nickname, which had originated due to Mabel's constant use of the word adorable around Dipper, had become common for the professor, fond despite the snarky way he usually said it, "This is bad, " Luc continued, "Like, we have a huge problem." There was muttering before the man came back on, sounding stressed, "Great, now I have to deal with my idiot brother. Dipper, if you ever try to hide from your family, move to another country, they'll always manage to find you if you don't." And with those wise parting words, the devil of a man hung up the phone. The young man rolled his eyes. Leave it to Luc to be so cryptic about his family, Dipper thought as he continued his drive to the university. The halls were quiet, as it was a Saturday - and who was at school on a weekend - and, as he approached the door to the doctor's lecture hall, a sense of trepidation grew. Right as he was about to open the doors and face down the dragon of a Demonology professor, the plain grey doors burst open, and a short man hurried past Dipper, shouting back in the direction of the room, "I'm not asking you to start the Apocalypse, Luci, don't be a dick, just think about it!"
The gruff reply was immediate: "I already told you, Gabe, I absolutely refuse to babysit those morons." With those words, the honey-haired man sighted, and turning, caught sight of the paranormal investigator. As the man's mirthful, if slightly exasperated, amber eyes met his, he smirked:
"Sorry, kiddo, I might have gotten him a lot worked up, not that he isn't always. Oh, my father knows we come from a family of monumental d-bag hotheads." And with that confusing statement, the man was off, strolling down the hallway, as he talked on a phone that seemed to have materialized in his hand, well, the one that wasn't holding a Snickers bar, that was.
"Uhm, Dr. Morningstar? Luc?" Dipper tentatively poked his head through the open door, and searched the room, finding his friend and former professor's dirty blond head slumped on his desk, resting on his hands. As Dipper spoke, the azure-eyed man looked up, his previously pensive expression hardened briefly, his mouth set into a grim line. The young man blanched, and realized that the king of Demons (or so Dipper thought), was way more stressed than he had sounded over the phone.
Luc snapped and bit out a quick 'come're' to Dipper, and the twenty-two year old hastened to comply, unwilling to further provoke his friend's ire. The professor, once Dipper was close enough, grabbed the man by the arm and dragged him to his office, where Dipper was one-hundred percent sure the man was going to methodically flay and dismember his cold, dead body.
But, instead, Dipper was led to a large cork board with pictures and sticky notes and string all over it. Luc turned to the slightly shorter male, and motioned to the information. "This is bad." The rough statement had Dipper shocked, as the professor always had his well-formulated sentences and lack of periphrasis, in what he said.
Dipper looked at the board, seeing crime scene photos and case file notes all over it, God knows where the good doctor had gotten them. "What is it?" Confusion written across his features he looked to the man, who scratched his stubbly chin in thought, "What is this, Luc?"
"I've been tracking murders in the area..." The statement was said slowly, as if his friend's brilliant mind was somewhere far away. "I've been looking for signs of supernatural," He paused, as if he didn't want to go on. "And this," He gesticulated wildly at the cluttered board. "This is bad. Really fucking bad." The grim set of his face was back, and Dipper felt his stomach drop. Anything that upset Luc like this (besides his impatient anger, but he was a college professor, who could blame him,), was very, very bad. Luc being stressed made Dipper anxious, and he didn't like it.
Adjusting his iconic hat, Dipper gave the board a once-over, "What's going on that's got you so spooked, Luc?" Out of the corner of his eye, the younger man saw the professor run a hand through his already ruffled hair, a stressed look on his face, something that made him seem far older than he actually was.
Luc leveled Dipper with a piercing stare and said quietly. "Well, twelve kids have died in the past two months and no one but me seems to give a damn."
I apologize for the lateness of this chapter, as well as how rushed it is. I had just finished typing it when my computer hecked up and deleted the whole thing :(
