AH! I had to fit this chapter in, because I reeeeeally feel bad about how I was unable to write on Sunday. I did the last half of this on my phone, so please excuse any part of it that seems rushed. X_X If you like this story, please continue to review, favorite, or follow! Criticism is extremely appreciated, but again, please note that half was done mobile since I couldn't stand having all these pressure of writing on my shoulders.

"He BRANDED you? Are you serious? You're just his.. his puppet again! Another pawn!"

"Mabel—"

"Why would you let him DO that? Like, what was so important that you just HAD to make the deal with him?"

"Mabel—"

"There's nothing I could think of that would make me make a deal with him. I mean, after everything he's done—especially to you—that there'd be no chance I'd make another deal!"

"MABEL!"

"What!?"

"It was in exchange for YOUR life.."

Mabel was officially freaked out. Her brother had been sitting in bed all day, looking more.. zombie-like than usual. He was constantly mumbling things to himself, watching her with every tiny movement she made. She couldn't stand being in here, it was stuffy, hot, and everything he did made her nervous. Every stray thought could very well be one of Bill's commands—and how would they know? How would anyone know? He was going crazy over this. And to be honest.. she couldn't blame him.

He had been trying to hold in his emotions, but it was to no avail. He broke down, starting to cry quietly, getting louder, and louder, until they reached high-pitched wails.

Mabel immediately pounced onto his bed, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. She cooed soft, comforting words, but they didn't do a thing. He just kept crying, and crying, and crying.. until the point where he was starting to choke on his own short, choppy breathing patterns. It was about an hour before he finally settled down, laying his head on Mabel's chest for comfort. She awkwardly ruffled his hair, smiling down at him—though it was obviously forced, holding none of her normal cheer.

It was worse for him. He was so scared of everything that went on in his head. It just kept filling up with ideas—so many ideas, terrible, horrible ideas, that he couldn't even imagine any other day without the help of the demon running around implanting them. He closed his eyes, fingers interlocking as he slowly fell off into a sleep. All of this crying made him feel exhausted, along with the whole journal thing.

Mabel carefully took her hands and put his head on the pillow, quietly slipping off the bed and tiptoeing over to the door. She opened it, cringing as it creaked a bit—but Dipper just murmured something in his sleep and turned his back to the door. Good. He needed the rest after all.. this.

She sighed and made her way into the kitchen, looking out the window to notice that it was almost nighttime. This day had gone by so incredibly fast—most of it including just her trying to get her sibling to calm down—that she hadn't even had the time to see what time it was! Well, now she knew. It was sunset, actually. Stan came in, and Mabel made a bit of small talk with him, trying to make everything seem like it was alright.

"I haven't seen Dipper all day. The kid alright?" Stan grunted, not bothering to look up at Mabel as he washed his hands in the sink.

"Yeah, he's just a little sick. Nothing Doctor Mabel can't fix, though!" She beamed, amazed by her own acting skills.

"Well, take good care of him. Less work for me," He chuckled, patting her on the head before heading over to the fridge and grabbing a Pitt soda. "I'll probably be goin' to bed early tonight. Just lettin' you know. If you need anything, well.. you can probably get it for yourself." He added quickly, before scratching his back and heading off to watch some movie. 'The Duchess disapproves" or something.

She gave a smile as he walked off, turning back to the sink and facepalming. How was she going to hide this from everybody else? If she didn't find a way to fix this soon.. they'd all be seriously screwed.

She tried to think up a plan, snatching up Waddles in her hands and holding him up. "What am I gonna do?" She whispered, hugging her pig tight in her arms. The pink little thing gave a little 'oink' in reply, which earned a tiny giggle.

She didn't know how long she had stayed up, but Stan had long gone to sleep, as well as Waddles, who was curled up on the floor. She had been sitting at the table for an ungodly amount of hours, trying to devise up some sort of a plan. She gave up, and walked up the stairs, slowly cracking open the door to peer inside. She expected to see the sleeping form of Dipper in the bed, but she instead was met with the sight of messy sheets and.. was that.. writing?

He had left the blacklight on, and there was writing everywhere she looked—in invisible ink, of course. The more she looked, the more she realized how insane Dipper was going. At first, it hand just started out with 'Bill' in rather scraggly writing, but then it was starting to become pictures of the triangle. They were small, until she came to one that covered the whole left wall. There were a bunch of symbols, a pine tree, a shooting star, a question mark.. all crossed out.

HELP

THERE'S NO HOPE

DOOM

HELP

DEATH AWAITS

HELP

HELP

CAN'T SPEAK

HELP

HELP

HELP

HELP

HELP

WITNESS

HELP

HELP

HELP

HELP..

The 'help' went on forever, it seemed. She bit her lip, trying to hold back tears. She had to find him.. who knew what he was doing? She heard the clatter of drawers and whipped around, finding nothing but darkness and more haunting messages awaiting her.

She raced down the stairs, trying to find where her brother had went. She had been looking for a while until she came across Stan's room—his door was slightly open—and immediately, she banged open the door.

Dipper held a knife just above Stan's chest, trembling and crying silently. He held it up, ready to strike down, when he looked straight at Mabel. She shook with fear, unable to move. She whimpered softly, saying something along the lines of 'pleasenopleaseno' and 'whywhywhy'.

Dipper stared at her for what seemed to be hours, before finally whispering,

"Kill Stan.."