So sorry for dropping the ball on this one for so long - I got hecka busy and couldn't write for it for a few weeks. Hope to be back to weekly (or at least bi-weekly) updates now!
"Auntie Whispers, I'm home!" Sofia called as she pushed open the front door of the rundown house where she apparently lived. Dipper was hesitant to go into a place with peeling paint and gaps in the roof like this, but the wind was starting to get really cold, colder than summer should be. He wished he's worn a coat or a vest or something, but for now it looked like the only way he'd get warm was to go with this strange girl.
Before she brought them in, though, Sofia huddled the twins together and began whispering.
"Auntie Whispers looks strange, but she's very nice, so please don't be alarmed when you see her. I know she'll be able to help you."
And then she was leading them through the door like she'd never said anything.
Dipper's mind burned with questions – how weird did this Auntie Whispers look, exactly? In what way? Was she like a mummy, or like Mr. Stevens from down the road who'd lost a leg and all his hair from cancer?
But before he could do or say anything, Auntie Whispers descended the stairs from the attic, and Dipper could see why Sofia had warned them.
Auntie Whispers had an enormous, wrinkled head, with eyes easily the size of Dipper's face, but the rest of her was normal-sized, if a bit fat beneath her flowing robes. Her hands, the only part of her visible aside from her face, were downright tiny.
"Who are they, my Sofia?" Auntie Whispers asked in a rasping voice, focusing her attention on the twins.
Despite his best intentions, Dipper found himself clutching at Mabel's hand for comfort, and she gave his hand a comforting squeeze, but then pulled loose.
"I'm Mabel," she said cheerfully, offering her hand for a handshake like she'd seen their Dad do a hundred times before. Dipper winced as Auntie Whispers took Mabel's hand and shook it, but Mabel seemed unfazed.
"This is my brother Dipper," Mabel continued. "He's kinda shy. Anyway, we got lost in the woods and Sofia said you'd be able to help us. Can we call our Dad from your phone?"
She gave Auntie Whispers one of her famous charming grins, the kind that always made Dad give her another cookie or story even after mom said no.
"Phone?" Auntie Whispers asked. "I'm afraid I don't have a phone, children."
Mabel pouted and Dipper panicked. What kind of person didn't have a phone?
"But if you would like to sleep here tonight, which you're more than welcome to, then I'd certainly do my best to get you home first thing in the morning."
"Okay!" Mabel responded cheerfully before Dipper could say anything, remind her of the times their parents and teachers had told them to not talk with, follow, or certainly go to the houses of strangers. He was about to pull her aside and mention all this, but then he heard a howling wind blow through the gaps in the attic, and figured sleeping here was better than sleeping outside. And this lady had another kid staying here, her niece, so she wouldn't do anything bad, right? It was like staying with another person's Grunkle Stan.
"Okay," Dipper mumbled, and Auntie Whispers smiled kindly at him. For a woman with a scary face, she had a nice smile.
"Lorna?" Auntie Whispers called, and Dipper took a second to wonder who she was calling to before a pretty teenaged girl wearing clothes that looked like they should be in a pioneer museum stepped out from behind a door.
"Yes, Auntie Whispers?" the girl asked.
"My dear, some travelers are going to be staying the night," Auntie Whispers said, gesturing to the twins. Mabel waved excitedly, and Dipper smiled a bit.
"I'm Mabel, and this is Dipper," Mabel said, launching into her speech again. Dipper took a moment to stop listening and look around the room. A bright, warm fire burned in a fireplace, with more than a dozen candles melting wax and glowing elsewhere. The whole room was bright and cheery, if worn down.
Dipper's gaze swept past a window with the curtains not closed all the way, and he froze. He could have sworn he saw a tall, big shadow moving in the woods outside, but when he blinked it was gone.
He quickly turned his attention to the center of the room, feeling prickles up his back like the thing from outside was watching him through the window. He'd just imagined it, though, right? He imagined lots of things that weren't real back home, or at least that's what his parents said every time he thought he saw something weird, like a fairy or a ghost.
He just had an overactive imagination, they said, even though when he tried to stop seeing the things he still couldn't, not until he gave up on looking at the details of things altogether.
This was just something he was imagining, like always.
Right?