Happy Hallows Eve everybody!
Episode 7: Good Intentions
"He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you." –Friedrich Nietzsche
Dipper never could have imaged the wave on wave of pain as Bill forced his way into Dipper's body. Maybe if the deal had specifically stated that Dipper was giving over control of his body to Bill, then it wouldn't feel like a hot iron spike was being repeatedly thrust through Dipper's skull. However, the deal hadn't been that specific, which meant that Bill had to fight whatever natural instincts refused to abide by his decision.
He writhed on the ground and screamed. Or, he would have screamed, had the air not been knocked out of his lungs by the invisible hands which were rendering every muscle numb.
"Relax PineTree, and it'll end much faster..." Bill suggested with a chuckle as another bolt of searing pain slammed into Dipper and rippled through his bones.
He couldn't hear himself think. Bill's laughter was too loud; it changed in pitch and distance, with different laughs layering on others as Bill revealed himself to be much bigger than Dipper had believed. Not big in a physical sense, big like how a concept was larger than an individual, big like a shared idea in a thousand brains, all sharing the same objective.
Big as in his own universe.
Dipper couldn't see anything but Bill. The demon was now blocking out the sun from every conceivable angle and consuming the horizon. His eye was a blood red center of everything, in which Dipper could see atomic explosions and chemical waste. He could see knives embedded in backs and improper burials in the dead of night. He tried to close his eyes have tried to run, to pull away, to dig his hands into the dirt.
But he couldn't move anything. His lungs ached as they were used by Bill, but everything else Dipper could control a couple minutes ago, was out of his reach.
Bill giggled his spent and bloody body and ran a hand across Dipper's wet cheeks. For the first time, ever, Dipper could feel Bill as something other than pain and coldness.
And he felt wrong. A type of "wrong" that dragged all he knew underground and beat it all to death with a crowbar. Dipper could still flinch. Bill didn't have hold over all his involuntary reflexes.
Yet.
Dipper begged the demon to stop. Bill gave a little shake of his head, told Dipper to quit fighting and enjoy the ride. And then, he continued.
Dipper's last thoughts, before passing out from the trauma, was that he pitied Nathaniel Norwood and any other idiot who had "pledged their body" to Bill. No one deserved this pain.
No one.
[0]
Bill grinned.
Dipper was still awake. He had to be awake for Bill to slip into each cell and instruct him. As always, he gave his new skin bag a little test.
Two steps forward, one step back. Three steps forward. Four steps back. In a circle. Make like your stabbing a hostage. Now pick up that rock and throw it at that squirrel.
The clearing had gone deathly silent with Bill's arrival. The birds grew silent in hopes of being ignored, or else too terrified to move. Only the trick of water provided the idea of movement. That, and Bill's breathing.
It was heavy, like that of a dog. Dipper's brain need oxygen after what it had just experienced, after all.
Bill took a moment for Dipper to catch his breath, before marching the boy back to The Shack. Through Dipper's eyes, he could see the many dimensional layers which the boy had no clue of. The beings which moved on a different vibrational level, to quick or too slow to be seen or detected on any level by the human being. The thoughts of all the nearby humans whispered in his mind and the howling of the many vengeful spirits which inhabited the woods, was annoying enough for Bill to scare them off with a quick incantation.
He could sense Gn'aak, gnawing away at the inhibitions of not just the cluttered lot who followed Fiddleford's demented son, but the entire county. Gn'aak's reach was almost as wide as its hunger, and for that alone, Bill admired it.
He could feel Txfyu'nt assemble timelines of love and joy, of heroism and tragedy, and then shred them when they no longer offered amusement. It infected every instinct, following all travelers down every multi-sided path and choosing who should die rich and unhappy, and who should never be conceived.
Right now, Ne'zzevs slinked through the slimiest corners of the dimension, whispering of innocence-based obsession as she teased meaningless sleaziness through the void till it consumed all thought. And Pvtx'qn was feasting on the fateless, dropping them into pockets of dementia and agony, to wither away and feed its bubbling spite in endless repetition of pained cycles.
Bill had every reason to grin.
[0]
Mabel stared at her unfinished sock puppet's. She had lost the will to continue work on them, with Dipper leaving. She just wanted to make sure that he was okay.
But he needed his space. He had acted strangely since Wendy's death, and coming to grips with it was something that he clearly wanted to do alone.
Still, she felt the urge to call Gabe and tell him that she couldn't make it, and then go look for Dipper. A thousand and one things could be responsible for him not returning, and the more she sat on her bed, the worse she felt.
"Mabel?"
She looked, up and found Dipper in the doorway, wearing weary smile.
She stood up. "Dipper, I-!"
"No, I want to…I want you to come outside and help me with something." He said, with a spark in his eye.
Mabel frowned and then nodded. "What is it?"
Dipper's smile grew more natural. "It's a surprise."
He led her down the stairs and behind the house, to where a small fire had been constructed out of twigs and branches, on the sand. Next to the fire, was The Journal and Gideon's Tome.
Dipper took a deep breath as Mabel surveyed the scene with growing confusion.
"Mabel, I thought about it…and I realized that I care more about not losing you, then figuring out what's behind all the stuff that has happened to our family. These books…they are making me anxious and obsessed…I can't be happy while they're around. Mabel, I need to get rid of them to make a clean start. If…if that's alright with you."
Mabel frowned. She wanted to disagree, to insist that they keep the books as a back-up plan. But then she thought about the innumerable nights Dipper had spent reading them. She thought about the hours he'd spent taking notes, decoding.
Was he any closer? If there was something that could be found to help defy Bill, then it surely would have been found by now. Right?
Ford had written The Journal…and it had not helped him in the least. And Gideon's Tome had not led him towards anything but hysteria and bloodshed.
How much pain had the information caused? It felt like the books had never helped with anything other than saving Stan and creating the lotion for her scar.
"Mabel?"
The brunette took a deep breath, and then looked her brother in the eye. "You think that this will help you?"
"There's nothing in there I haven't memorized Mabel. And Gideon's Tome is too dangerous if it gets into the wrong hands. I can't live with that pressure Mabel…I'm afraid of what I might do to keep it hidden."
Mabel took a deep breath. And then she picked up Gideon's Tome and tossed it into the flames. The ancient book began to burn without pause, and Mabel watched it go up in flames, releasing a small cloud of white as the ancient mold burned.
Dipper chuckled and wrapped a hand around her shoulders as he picked up The Journal.
"Is the position of Reverend still open for Gabe's play?"
Mabel tried to remember if she had even mentioned Gabe when telling him about the role. She was tired though, and Dipper had always been observant.
"Yup."
Dipper tossed the leather bound red book into the flames, and watched the book which had caused Mabel to become captured by the fey, go up in flames.
"Good. It's been a long time since I was in a play. I'll have to brush off my 'funny accents.'" Dipper said, before chuckling and turning away from the fire.
As Mabel followed Dipper back inside, she felt her heart swell. He was back. She had him back.
Strangely enough, the feeling came with the lurking fear that any moment, she was going to lose him again, any second now.
[0]
Stan called out awkwardly as Dipper opened the front door. "Hey kiddo…where are you going?"
The teen turned towards him, with his eyes lowered. "I asked Mabel what I could do to help with her play, and she told me I should get some food and some drinks."
Stan nodded and paused, a couple feet from the boy who clearly didn't want to have this conversation.
"Listen…kid…I…I'm sorry that I haven't really…I haven't helped you with all the stuff you've been dealing with since…well, you know. I should be more open and moreover, I should talk to you and Mabel before I make choices on your behalf."
Dipper remained motionless.
"I…I was talking with Priscilla because…I needed help assuring that you two were safe. But in hindsight, I-I should have spoken with you too first…"
Dipper swallowed. "That's alright, you did what you had to do."
Stan shook his head. "No, it's not alright. I don't want to turn into my brother or…my dad." Stan placed a hand on Dipper's shoulder. "Dipper, you know that you don't have to do this, right? It's perfectly natural to relax until you feel more like yourself."
Dipper gave a short smile. "Thanks, but I want to do this. I want to prove to Mabel that she can trust me."
Stan smiled and pulled Dipper into an uncomfortable hug. Then he told Dipper to be careful, and returned to his office, less exhausted at the thought that Dipper had was more self-reliant than Stan had guessed. He relaxed in his seat, and looked up from his desk to find that McGucket was in the doorway.
He was dressed in a sharp brown suit, and wore a red and yellow tie. He was shaking, and had a look which Stan had begun to see on the twins' faces daily.
"Fids, what's the matter?" Stan asked as he stood up and offered his hand. He hadn't realized how much he missed the other's company until this moment.
Fiddleford swallowed and nearly fell into his old friend. As Stan broguth him to the seat in front of his desk and filled a cup with scotch, Fiddleford began to speak.
"I'm afraid that I've done something terrible…" He admitted, eyes red and hands tying knots with his tie.
Stan sat down and offered the drink. "Join the club. Well, go ahead…what is it?"
Fiddleford emptied the glass in one gulp. Then he leaned forward. "I've been trying to stop these things…these umm…otherworldly gods. But I think I've played right into their game. I have this terrible feeling of déjà vu, like at any moment I'm going to…I'm going to…I…your brother I think that we've…I think…I'm going to…" McGucket shivered and then raised his eyes. He smiled. "Stanford, what were we talking about?"
[0]
Bill strode down the side of the road, his hands in his pockets. His eyes searched for targets. He had list of things to do, but he didn't see a reason not to stop and enjoy himself.
Children were clustered inside the arcade, enjoying the laziness of the weekend. Sherriff Finch was across the street, trying to watch for any shady business.
"Dipper?"
He turned and a grin split across Dipper's face. Bingo. "Emma Sue...what a pleasure seeing you on this fine evening."
She frowned at the way he said it. Man, that girl's death did a number on him, she thought. "I just wanted to ask if you, uh…you know…wanted share lunch some time?"
Bill contorted Dipper's features as he sifted through her hopes and dreams, able to examine each in detail. "Is this because you feel bad for me?"
"No! I just…I really, like-like you. You're smart and funny and really…nice."
You won't in five minutes, that I can guarantee. "Then I would love to."
Her face lit up.
"Can I show you something I found in the woods?" Bill asked, as mimicked Dipper's timid dysfunction.
"Of course!"
Bill took her hand, and sensed her inward shiver. She did have the hots for PineTree. A shame, all things considered. It would have been fun to watch Dipper face another romantic failure.
But it would be funner to hear Dipper beg for Bill not to make him carve her up.
"DIPPER!"
Bill looked up and cursed his luck.
Robbie came to a stop next to them, a couple old books under his arm. He was about to launch into some gobbledygook about demons, when he noticed Emma Sue.
"Oh…are you two…busy?"
Emma pulled away. "I'll just…you two have fun. I'll see you tomorrow at the diner, okay?"
Bill nodded and wondered how he was going to punish BrokenHeart for stealing his moment of glory. "Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye."
He turned to face BrokenHeart and forced worry. "What's the matter?"
"I just…I've been reading about the effects of demons, and I think that-"
"Could we talk about this, somewhere else?" Bill asked as his fingers began to twitch with desire to inflict.
"Oh, sure…we'll talk about it on the way to my place."
Bill smirked. "Perfect."
Robbie went on to say that he believed that there were demons very close, as much of the behavior which affected the townsfolk, seemed to be a result of their influences. Bill shook Dipper's head in a scholarly way, glad that Dipper had never told Robbie just how close the demons were.
"And you believe this is important…because?" Bill asked as they neared his cottage.
"Well, if we just follow the signs…we're sure to discover where the demons are. And then we can kill them." Robbie responded as he opened the front door and welcomed Bill inside the sparse front hall.
The living room was full of papers. Either beign a mortician was boring, or Robbie started drown in his studies.
"Kill them?" Bill responded, forcing himself to hold back laughter at the thought.
"Yeah. I haven't gotten that bit figured out yet, but there are plenty of references to the way to banish them…you have to kill the person that they are possessing."
Bill nodded as he stepped into the well-lit kitchen, opening the drawer where the knives were being kept. "How could you possibly identify whoever their possessing though?"
BrokenHeart turned towards him as he picked up the mug which he had meant to return to the kitchen sink that morning. "Remember, you told me to look at their ey-"
The older teen stopped when his eyes met Dipper's, and he saw that they had little yellow slivers in their pupils. Dipper's hand raised the steak knife so that it glinted and BrokenHeart finally noticed it. The mug fell and shattered as Bill began to cackle.
"You really are the stupidest person who has ever tried to get in my way. I mean, sure, PineTree is a mental wreck, and ShootingStar is a mindless whore, but you…you take the cake."
He stuttered for words and Bill rounded the kitchen doorway, placing himself between BrokenHeart and the door as he spoke. "Go ahead Robbie…end the nightmare. Kill me." He mimicked Cathy's voice seamlessly. "Kill Mr. Sweetdreams!"
He giggled when Robbie remained rooted to the spot.
Without further warning, he leaped forward and embedded his knife in BrokenHeart's shoulder.
[0]
The man had been freed from his prison, only to be placed back in another one. He had awoken in a deep underground complex, surrounded by insane individuals who jeered and screamed at him.
He dug his hands into his scalp as he wondered if freedom would ever be his.
Then he noticed the teenage girl across the hall from him. She had pressed her hands against the glass of her cell and licked her lips as she watched him.
He grew more and more uncomfortable with her eyes on him, and shrunk away from sight. Her smile just widened and she began to mouth something.
Without a second thought, the chant began to be picked up.
"HE'S ALMOST HERE!" The cellmates to left and right of him screamed into the wall.
Louder. And louder. Soon, it felt like everyone in the complex was screaming the three, ominous words.
"HE'S ALMOST HERE! HE'S ALMOST HERE! HE'S ALMOST HERE!"
The girl smiled at him and drew a finger across her neck.
[0]
Two hours later, Robbie was naked and bound to his mother's antique chair via the handcuffs which Bill had snagged from Stan's office. He was confined to his sister's old room, and covered in wounds from Bill's knife play.
Of course, Bill had no intention of allowing his plaything to die of blood loss, so he bound each wound with an article of clothing to staunch the flow. Not before he cauterized the blow by pouring beer on it and giggling at Robbie's whimpering.
After Bill got tired of the hearing his victim scream, he gagged him with a rag and duct taped it in place.
He slapped Robbie once when he was about to pass out and said "Don't give out on me now buddy…we're just getting started."
Finally, when he had grown bored of the exercise, Bill stood up and wiped his hands off on Robbie's untouched stomach. Then he smiled and stepped closer, closing his hands-on Robbie's hair and pulling the man's eyes up to meet his own burning ones.
"I hope that you've learned your lesson BrokenHeart, because the next time that you come between me and my victim, you're going to join your momma and pa in hell. I'm going to let you suffer here, because I want you to continue living…traumatized and useless to everyone. That way it'll be that much better when you know who comes around to collect."
Bill lowered his hand and cupped Robbie's amber medallion. He had not removed it once during the "session", and now grinned down at Robbie knowingly. His fingers opened a cut on Robbie's thigh and he smeared the blood over the medallion as Robbie reeled and sobbed.
"Just as it should be." Bill said as he poured beer back on the cut, and returned the makeshift bandage to its place.
He laughed on the way out, washing his hands in the bathroom and walking out the front door with a spring in his step.
[0]
Candy awoke in a doze. She was lying on a bed, in a damp room, lit only by the lamp on the bedside table, with a fan circling above.
A familiar girl sat in a chair, between her and the slightly ajar door.
Candy discovered that she was dressed in a gown, and had a bandage wrapped around her arm. Her arm ached, as her brain struggled to figure out why she was here.
She wanted to go home. She just wanted to be safe.
The familiar girl snored a little, and Candy swallowed, before slipping out of bed. She tipped toed by the familiar girl, the balls of her feet freeing against the creaky boards.
She glanced at the familiar girl again, her stomach sinking. She was so beautiful.
But Candy didn't belong here. This place scared her, and just because the girl was beautiful, didn't mean she wouldn't do something terrible to Candy.
She gripped the door handle and eased it open, in time for a tall man in a cap to smile at her. He said something in a language she didn't understand, with a sick humor that she did.
Candy screamed, and backed away from him, this time knocking into the familiar girl. The familiar girl said something in a language she didn't understand as well, and drew a hand across Candy's head.
Candy didn't understand her, but she knew the intent of the message.
Don't worry, you're safe.
She shrunk away from them both, confining herself to the corner of the room and wrapping her hands around her knees as they discussed her, both staring at her with folorn or disappointed expressions.
They turned, and under advisement from the man leering man, the familiar girl must have locked the door, for the 'click!' rang out through the shabby room. Candy grabbed the spring-bed's one pillow and pressed her face into it.
This wasn't right; it wasn't supposed to be this way. She could feel that in her heart.
She didn't like it here.
She wanted to go home.
[0]
Gabe didn't like Mabel's brother. He talked to himself, which was disconcerting enough. But he kept looked almost hungry and he kept averting Gabe's vision. With his hair obscuring much of his face, he almost looked creepy, especially when he moved in such a stilted and disoriented way.
"Mabel, your brother…he's acting kind of strange…" Gabe stated as Mabel assembled the puppets.
She looked up with surprise. "What do you mean?"
Gabe licked his lips. He hated the idea of making her feel bad, and was terrified that if he insulted her twin, she might walk out right then and there and never talk to him again.
"I just…he just seems, I don't know…tired and stressed…I'm not sure that he should do this."
Mabel stood up and steppe close enough that Gabe's heart started thumping. "He's been through a lot…I just…please give him a chance."
Gabe's unease disintegrated at her hope. She clearly believed her brother could handle this. And even if Dipper was a little off, the worst thing he could do was get stage fright. Flubbing a line didn't matter much for an audience of toddlers.
"Alright. I'm sorry for worrying you." Gabe apologized.
Mabel smiled. "Don't. If I were in your position, I'd probably have said the same thing. I can talk to him if you want."
"No, I've caused enough trouble as it is. Forget I said anything." Gabe responded, giving her a smile.
Casey stepped into the room. "Guys, we need to start in five minutes."
Nodding, Gabe turned to Mabel. "Have you done this before?"
"Nope." She admitted.
"Impossible to mess it up."
"Yeah, sis. Break a leg." Dipper said as he approached, still obsessing over fixing his collar. He cut quite the figure in the reverend costume, his sneakers traded out for roughed up dance shoes and his vest replaced with the overcoat. Without his hat, his hair gave him a scruffy appearance.
She smiled at them both, before picking up her puppets and heading out of the backroom and into the library.
Dipper finished with his collar and watched Mabel leave in a manner that, had Gabe not known better, he would have defined as "pervy."
"You remember all your lines?" Gabe checked, as Dipper began to walk in circles and repeat a couple words in an unnerving mutter.
"Every one. I don't forget things." Dipper confirmed as he kept his eyes on his feet and continued in the circle, not appearing to become dizzy in the slightest.
"Good." Gabe responded as he turned away, noting that Mabel had to be a saint for putting up with her brother's antics.
"How much do you want her?" Dipper asked as he began circling by crossing his feet and moving backwards. He did it with the kind of ease that most acrobatics couldn't boast of.
Gabe turned to him, wondering if Dipper had extreme ADHD or some similar disorder. "What?"
"Do you want her enough to commit a crime? Do you want her enough to humiliate yourself? Do you want her enough that you could go a year without touching her, if it meant that she belonged to you?" Dipper asked with the kind of grin that made Gabe's stomach fall.
"Look, I would prefer if we didn't talk about this." Gabe retaliated, hoping that Dipper would shut up after that.
"I was just asking, because of that look in your eyes whenever she's nearby. I'm sure I don't need to give you the 'don't hurt her speech.'"
Gabe ignored him.
"You are going to hurt her no matter what. That's fine. Pain is what defines us. Fear of that pain is what guides us towards excellence."
"You're wrong," Gabe stated.
Dipper giggled, and asked, "What about?"
But Gabe wasn't paying attention. He had moved to the doorway and was watching as Mabel did funny voices for Mr. Mouse and Miss Shrew.
"Words are cheap Benson. Prove me wrong and I'll buy you a sandwich."
Gabe ignored him and tried to concentrate on Mabel.
"'Looks like we'll be getting married then.'" Mr. Mouse said.
"My cue." Dipper said as he marched out the doorway. Gabe watched him leave with more than a little relief. The way he talked…it was not the way that most people talked and it wormed its way into his mind, echoing there and disrupting positive thought.
"'I suppose we'll need a preacher then.'" Said Miss Shrew, the kindergarteners giggling at Mabel's old lady voice.
"Did someone say a preacher?" Asked Dipper as he stepped into view and quicky descended the two carpeted stairs into the play area ring.
He perfectly mimicked a booming, southern man, and the toddlers grew uproarious at the way that he strutted and bobbed, kneeling in front of the puppets, and removing a prop-bible from his jacket pocket.
"Now, do you Mr. Mouse…take this shrew to be your lawfully wedded wife, in sickness and in health?" Dipper asked with one raised eyebrow.
"'I do!'"
Dipper turned to the other puppet and Mabel beamed up at him from behind the carboard wall. "And do you, Miss Shrew take this mouse to be your lawfully wedded husband, till death do you part?"
Mabel frowned at the death part. She wasn't sure that was in the script. Of course, she played along with hardly a pause. "'I do! I do! I DO!'"
Miss Shrews excitement caused the toddlers to laugh and put their hands up to their faces with cheers.
Dipper smirked and stood up. He lay down the faux-bible and reached into the pocket of his slacks. "Then by the power vested in me, by the unthinkable godly forces, I.E. the state of Oregon…I pronounce you…"
He removed one of the needles which Mabel had been using to create her puppets. "Man and wife."
As the needle was plunged into Dipper's left eye, Bill cackled louder than ever.
[0]
It was a nightmare. It had to be a nightmare. It was too strange and traumatizing to be anything else.
Mabel sat perfectly still as Dipper laughed, blood squirting down the side of his face as he surveyed the traumatized toddlers. She couldn't breathe, let alone speak.
He turned to face her. "What's the matter, sister? Don't you always say that you want me to 'lighten up'?" He clutched his chest as he fell into a new round of laughter, and saliva fell out of his gaping mouth as all his movements became jagged and wretch-inducing.
Mabel just watched.
He tore the needle out of his eye and turned back to the fleeing toddlers and their shouting parents. "Aw, c'mon kiddies…don't leave so soon!" He paused and that wretched grin stretched back over his twisted features. "Doesn't anyone want to be a pirate like me?"
Gabe knocked him to the ground and forced the needle out of his hand. Dipper didn't fight, he just kept laughing. Why wouldn't he stop laughing?
"Mabel, call the police while I hold him down," Gabe screamed as he pinned Dipper's arms to the carpeting.
Dipper smirked and spoke in a soft whisper. "Relax, buddy…it's all part of the plan."
Gabe's hands tightened. "What the hell are you talking abou-?"
"Move away from him."
Gabe raised his head and found that Agent Lockhart had entered the room, his gun fixed on Dipper. He was accompanied by two SWATT members, both of which were covering the exits and equipped with SMGs.
Gabe looked back at the one-eyed Dipper, who only chuckled. "Better do as the big man says. Unless you want to end up like Gorney."
Gabe went pale and fell off Dipper, staggering across the floor and putting an arm between Mabel and the cackling maniac as Agent Lockhart turned Dipper over and handcuffed him. Only with Dipper's mention of the name, did Mabel remember all the "MISSING" posters of the boy who had sat next to her in her Algebra class for two weeks.
Suddenly, energy rushed into her limbs, and Mabel leaped to her feet. She pushed Gabe aside and rushed towards Dipper and his captors. One of the men in armor turned and fixed his gun on her. She paused and then glanced at Agent Lockhart.
Gabe was trying to drag her away from them. He was trying to console her, to convince her that they would know what to do.
But she could only focus on her brother. "NO! Please! Don't take him away again!"
Agent Lockhart winced but just moved towards the automatic doors faster. Mabel raised her hand, prepared to unleash hell on the hard-working men who were just doing their job, in the name of keeping her brother.
But as Lockhart passed by the front desk, his hands tensing to drag his mutilated prisoner, Dipper began humming a tune which made her heart stutter.
When you wish upon a star.
Mabel called Stan over and over as the police tried to get a statement from Gabe and the terrified librarian, each time receiving a recording.
[0]
"So, I guess watching a couple of teens in an ongoing murder investigation does pay off, eh?" Dipper asked as he leaned against the wall of the van.
Agent Lockhart remained silent, watching the boy's body language as a man in a white suit cleaned and bandaged the teen's ruined eye.
Dipper cocked the eyebrow above his working eye as he spoke. "You've been watching the Pines twins ever since you accidentally killed your partner, and yet…it's funny how with all that money and manpower, you still weren't there to save that unfortunate, defenseless redhead from The Shapeshifter."
Lockhart's jaw twitched. Then he cracked a smile. "I knew you would crack eventually. The stuff your family is into…it's unnatural. It would drive anyone mad."
Dipper's smile grew smaller and he began to speak in a much less over the top, smug voice. "So, did you let her die to get me back for what happened to Gray, or are you just as terrible at your job as every other government employee?"
Lockhart turned away.
Dipper closed his eyes and began to speak in a low, ominous voice, repeating the same four words repeatedly. The van rattled and Lockhart got up, if not just to get rid of the itching which had begun to cover his neck.
"Careful up there!" He yelled at the driver, before returning to his seat.
Dipper ceased his chant, and his eye opened, with only the white revealed. He smiled again and started to speak in a voice that nearly made Lockhart faint.
"Hey twerp, nice fuckup."
Lockhart stood up and the doctor turned to him, asking if everything was alright. Lockhart ignored him and spoke with hands shaking at his holster as Dipper grinned up at him. "How did you…how…I…"
"What's the matter twerp? Just because I'm dead doesn't mean I'm not disappointed." Dipper looked him up and down, his eye still just whites. "You've got a suit and a gun, but you're still the same retarded little prick."
Lockhart removed his gun. "Stop it! STOP IT RIGHT NOW!"
Dipper inhaled and his voice shifted again. "JAKE! JAKE! GET THEM OFF ME! OH GOD JAKE!" At this point, Dipper's voice shifted again, to mimic the sounds of flesh and bone being torn apart.
Lockhart turned off the safety and pressed the barrel to Dipper's forehead. "One more word. One…more…word."
The doctor placed his hand on Lockhart's hand and spoke, his eyes concealed by a gas mask. "Sir, please put the gun away."
Of course, he had his own, aimed at Lockhart's stomach.
Dipper closed his eye again, and when he opened it, Lockhart could see the yellow in the black glimpse into Dipper's skull.
He spoke in a perfect imitation of Lockhart. "Listen to me you little punk, there's no such thing as demons, just like there's no angels or Gods. I've been wasted my life studying this fucking valley and I think I would know if Satan and his buddies were just screwing around with us."
Lockhart turned on the safety on his gun and sat back down. He returned his gun to its holster and covered his face with both hands.
Dipper grinned as the man fought back sobs of frustration and confusion.
"Relax, Jakey-boy, we're almost home."
[0]
Stan tore out his car and waded through the crowd, his elbows extended in the crowd control psychology which his brother had taught him. Anyone who didn't hear or see him coming, was lightly shoved ignored. He had been panic-stricken since receiving Mabel's call. She had been too distraught to even hear him, and her call had ended with ominous cut off.
McGucket peddled behind him, gaze downturned. They both came to a stop when they saw Mabel, crouched in the back of Keg's sheriff car.
Her face was tear stained, and her eyes were removed of all emotion. She was bleeding from the nose.
Stan stomped towards her, his teeth gritted. McGucket called out for him to slow down, but he refused the shorter man's logic.
Finch turned to him like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and then gathered himself together. He was spindly man, having being given Durland's position under less than opportune circumstances. New to the Gravity Falls looming tragedy, he was a nervous wreck, and Stan's anger forced him to suck it up.
"Pines. I don't have time for-!"
"She's coming with me." Stan responded.
Finch sulked. He was a full head shorter than Stan, and his ranger hat only served to accentuate his baldness. It was clear that he was on the weak minded, the Norwood's wouldn't have chosen him for the role.
He folded his arms as he spoke. "No. She's coming to the station. When I'm done asking her questions…then she can go home."
Stan stepped closer, his hands forming fists as he took the same stance that had served him well in a thousand brawls. "Now listen to me your pathetic little power junkie, she's been through a traumatic incident. She's coming home with me. You can come by later and ask her questions."
Finch brought his hand to his waist. "I'm going to have to ask you to step back and calm down Pines. I'm just following orders, but I've got no problems with jailing you for threatening a police officer."
Stan's teeth ground together. Then he took a deep breath and his eyes narrowed. "How does it feel…knowing that you're just a pawn?"
That sent him over the edge. "Alright, that's it Pines! I don't have to take this-this bullying from you! Either you clear out, or I take you in."
McGucket grabbed Stan's arm, and tugged him away before the old man could sling another insult. "Come on, Leland." McGucket said as he dragged Stan to their car. "We'll talk with her at the station. Don't worry, she'll be fine."
Stan glanced back at Mabel, hoping she might turn to him, so that he could give her a hopeful smile. But she didn't move.
[0]
Bill sat cross-legged in his cell. Outside the window, two guards stood, each equipped with enough tranquilizer to kill a horse. They were each wearing helmets, boots, and thick, black jackets, with dozens of pockets.
His hands were bound behind his back, and his feet were chained to his metal seat. Bandages shielded half of his face from sight, concealing the gruesome mark he had inflicted on himself.
"Could you please loosen these restraints?" He asked the guards.
They ignored him.
He took a deep breath and then leaned forward. He began speaking in a monotonous, even voice, the opposite of the attempted shouts of his gagged fellow prisoners.
"Crawling up the stairs. Friend in the subway. Festering in the breadbox. Impossible to wipe out." He said without a change in tone once.
The guards glanced at one another and one banged on the glass. "Quiet in there!"
"Off the beaten path. Kick in the door. Playing with matches. Calls from the kindergarten. Wrong answer." He continued.
The second guard turned back to the window. "SHUT THE HELL UP!"
"We don't like your kind around here. Trim the fat. Dropped the groceries. Vertigo in action. Drowning's not so bad."
Fuming, the first guard slid his card in the lock, and opened the cell. The two of them strode inside, and the second punched Bill across the nose. "Shut the fuck up, or we'll gag you."
Bill spat out the blood and raised his face, now smiling. "Can't get the smell off. Favors for cash. Bruises on the wrist. Vacation in a rubber room. Brakes fail. Bye-bye baby." The guards shook and one of them turned off the safety on his rifle.
Bill licked his lips before speaking. "I have friends everywhere. If you don't loosen these restraints, right now, then everything I just described…is going to be your life. And the life of your families. And the life of your friends. And their friends."
The guards stared at him for a long moment. Then, they each bent. Bill slid his already free hands to the first guard's ankle and tore the pistol from the holster there. He shot both guards in the head and used the second guard's keys to unlock his legs. Then he opened the door to his cell with the first guard's keycard.
With some effort, he dragged each corpse out into the hall. By this time, alarms were blaring and guards were rushing towards him. He ignored them, instead tearing off his bandages and diving his fingers into the mutilating flesh beneath. When he had enough blood, he drew a circle around the two bodies and began chanting in a dead language.
By the time that barrels were poised on him, the building was already shaking. He raised his hands above his head as instructed, but continued to chant beneath his breath.
"Now put the gun down and put your hands behind your back." One of the guards ordered.
Bill did just that, and the guard marched over to put handcuffs on him.
The dead bodies were consumed by a thousand cracked teeth as an avatar of Ti'zn, Maw of the Elders was summoned into the world. It was red and brown, with pumpkin sized teeth and no eyes. A dozen contracting holes were on its backside to assist in its feasting. It roared loud enough to shatter the glass on the security cameras, and wiggled forward on its five, undersized stalks.
It's tentacle like tongues grabbed guards and tossed them into its gaping mouths, as bullets failed to deter the being.
The next few moments were hell.
The monster which Bill had summoned, devoured nine guards over the course of five minutes. It then tore through a wall, breaking open several cells (and eating the inmates inside). Bill meanwhile, was busy walking up to the keypad on the wall and inputting the password.
The rest of the cell clicked open, and lunatics charged free. Screaming, twirling, lurching maniacs, trampling over one another to escape Ti'zn.
Bill used this distraction to enter the elevator, override the emergency shutdown, and ride it to the bottom floor.
There he walked out onto the empty testing floor (everyone had evacuated by now), and grinned at his reflection in the side of The Machine. He grinned at the beautifully designed gateway to madness and moved inside it. He opened a tiny compartment within the machine, and pressed the two buttons inside in a twelve-piece combination.
Then he slipped out of the arch of the machine, and turned to the control panel. He gripped the lever and yanked it.
He frowned, and pulled the lever again.
Still no response came.
"You really thought that I'd let you get away with this?" McGucket asked while stepping out from behind the machine. He fixed a tranquilizer pistol on Bill as he marched forward. "The moment Lockhart called me about you, I figured out your plan."
Bill grinned as he began to read the man's mind. "You unplugged it." He stated while glancing at The Machine.
"I would have destroyed it if I could." McGucket responded as he drew closer, forcing Bill to start backing away.
Bill smirked. "How does it feel to know that you helped build the apocalypse?"
McGucket let out a long breath. And then he shot Bill in the leg.
He spoke as the toxin began to shut down Dipper's body, and Bill collapsed to his knees. "Shut your trap."
[0]
To be continued…