[CHAPTER FOUR]

A strong force pulled Dipper from the river and he dragged himself across the muddy bank sputtering and coughing. He crawled toward a tree and lied down; gingerly he touched the back of his head. His hair clung to his scalp and he felt a swollen bump. Drawing his hand away revealed fresh blood. He lied still, catching his breath; I am never going to listen ever again, He thought bitterly to himself.

It was all fun until it was him who got hurt; this made him give a soft and bitter laugh . He wanted to lie against the tree and sleep, but he felt the same tugging sensation that he had before. This time it was stronger and it was hard to resist. Weary, he got up and leaned on the tree one last time before he began walking. As he walked, he constantly looked behind his back; who pulled me out of the river?

After he walked for a while, a sense of doubt seeped through the back of his mind; was he lost again? He leaned against an old, brittle tree; it had soft ivy and moss that clung to its surface. Beneath his feet was a broken limb. His tired mind focused on that; a broken limb.

That's when it hit him, he looked up and saw the tree's missing branch; this was the same tree he had fallen from. He instantly knew where he was and ran towards the direction of the house; the tugging growing stronger with each step he took.

There it was, old and strange yet intrinsic to its surroundings. Without the house the woods would have seemed empty. Slowly, Dipper walked up towards the silhouette, the features becoming more defined as he got closer.

In here.

"oh no." He said aloud, "I'm not trusting you again, you made me go to these stupid woods. I almost drowned!" He looked through the empty door frame into the dark house; there was no way in hell that he was going to step through that door and—

NOW.

This voice was deep and harsh, calling out so quickly it made Dipper jump, "W-what?" he stuttered.

Come in or I'm going to have to get you.

Dipper laughed nervously, "You're just a voice in my head. How can you possibly get me?" There was silence and Dipper hid his fear with a smug smile. A twig snapped from behind and Dipper turned around in alarm. More brush snapped, the noise came from far away just so that whatever was out there couldn't be seen. The noise was getting closer, the dry sticks echoing in the still night; breaking and popping.

Without hesitation, Dipper ran up the cracked concrete steps into the dark house. The foyer was small and to his immediate left was a small closet. There was another opening on the left which led to what used to be a living room. The right held another empty room and a narrow hallway stretched before him leading to the kitchen; the dining room on the right of that and the bathroom left to it. The basement door was located in the hallway on the left beneath the stairs.

With reckless abandon, Dipper ran through the dark down the narrow hallway, tripping over his own clumsy feet. With stinging elbows, he scrambled backwards and turned around to see who might be walking through the door frame; but no one came. Instead a small figure dashed across the open light (which wasn't much) provided by the door way only to disappear back into the shadows.

Over here.

This time, the voice was the child's, the same as it had been before he entered the house. Dipper couldn't speak and resorted to shaking his head; still refusing to listen to the small child. You got me into this mess.

You don't want him mad.

The child's voice came out as a hiss, low and scared reflecting what Dipper was feeling. His fear had reached its peak and he had no choice but to follow. He walked down the narrow hallway, the old boards groaning beneath his weight. He stopped just outside the opening of the empty room, not being able to penetrate the darkness. He looked behind him before stepping in; no turning back now.

The air, once musty and old was now static and tense. An awful smell of rot came over the room, making it almost unbearable to breath. Whatever threatened him before was there, Dipper could feel it in his bones, "What…" he coughed, "What… do you want?" the words were strangled in his throat, making it difficult to come out.

He heard a snivel; the small girl-child was still in the room, the very one who led him to this crumbling hell hole. Dipper could feel the figure smiling in the room, amused at what he saw in the dark.

Change is just so fast you never see it. You can't stop it and honestly, you don't want it too.

How the hidden figure spoke was strange; it seemed to be coming from within Dipper's head yet at the same time it came from across the room. Dipper stood within the glare of the towering figure, speechless. Was he… the girl too?

No… The girl is a being of her own, Dipper.

"But… you, the forest… and the pig… it wasn't"

The pig was your own doing, the idea invented by you alone.

The figure chuckled, it was eerie in the quiet house; you are a very interesting boy, Dipper. You're an introvert, slightly depressed, you see things others don't… very smart, yes and… you have a thing for Wendy, Mabel is your twin and you two are living with your great uncle Stan who goes by the nick name 'Gruncle' Stan.

"How did you know that?"

I just do.

"What are you?"

An angel.