JEWRIORBIHNORIJPGHJROHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaa...
Oh, sorry. That was just me screaming from all the work I've been doing in school. But that's not important!
This is a random thing I started writing yesterday and it was inspired by the song Heavydirtysoul by Twenty-One Pilots. A criminal and cop thing I guess? Feel free to review, I personally don't think I'm good at writing crime and mystery...
He didn't know how long he'd been pondering in thought. It'd been days, weeks, months even.
But, pondering on what, you ask?
For the past year and a half, he'd been working on the Yellow case at Gravity Falls Police Department. No one had any leads - they didn't even know his name. At every scene he left his mark somewhere, which was an equilateral triangle with an eye in the middle. Below his symbol was the word YELLOW boldly written in all capitals, drawn with blood. A very few dared to call him 'Mister Misty Eye' as a joke, but that instantly ceased when incidents had started occurring way more often - up to three times a month - and became more violent than ever. Yellow apparently wanted more attention, and he'd definitely got it from detectives and police forces. But even with the crew on the hunt with a new stack of case files, they were still left empty handed; it was like watching the dust slowly settle over time. At this, the city was paralyzed with fear, it's inhabiting citizens petrified as they awaited the news of the next unlucky victim. As they waited for another picture of a bloody and dead body lying on the ground. Because waiting was all they could do. Without any knowledge of who Yellow really was, nobody could do anything.
Or at least, they thought they didn't have knowledge about Yellow's identity.
Dipper Pines stood in front of his cork board, images and papers pinned up with red string wrapped around everywhere. He was so close, he could feel it. He knew Yellow just had to own that big-ass mansion on the edge of town. He just needed a name.
He quickly opened up his laptop, and typed in, '910 Northwest Ave. in Gravity Falls, Oregon'.
4 search results for this location:
Pacifica Northwest - May be know as Paz, others... Previously lived here.
Veronica Martinez - May be known as Pyronica S., Ronica, others...
Gary Cement - May be known as Kryptos, Krypton C., others...
Scott Bowden - May be known as Zanthar, Xanthar, others...
William Cipher - May be known as Bill Cipher, Bill Cypher, others...
He didn't know why, but at the name William Cipher, his eyes stared intently at the screen, almost dropping the hot cup of coffee in his hand. He felt like he'd heard of or seen that name somewhere... but when? Despite his curiosity, his hand didn't move towards the mouse to click on the name. He just looked at it, like something was preventing him. It wasn't fear, it was that this was either going to be it or not. The anticipation killed him, but he stopped himself. If this guy wasn't the one, then the GFPD would never find Yellow and arrest him, and he might as well quit.
He took a deep breath to steady himself, and moved his hand across the desk. His hands were already clammy from nervousness as they gripped the mouse tightly rather than relax his fingers around it. The black arrow moved across the screen, just hovering right over the name. It had to be Yellow.
Click.
William Cipher, may be known as Bill Cipher and Bill Cypher.
Born in #%)#$_! $)8235-90)$!U#$*_(!#%#(_!$!*!%(#)*!_$ _%(#&&% _!_$(%#&(%#$&_!(%*#JJF#)%$&%.
UNKNOWN ERRORUNKNOWN ERRORUNKNOWN ERRORUNKNOWN ERRORUNKNOWN ERRORUNKNOWN ERRORUNKNOWN ERRORUNKNOWN ERRORUNKNOWN ERRORUNKNOWN ERRORUNKNOWN ERRORUNKNOWN ERRORUNKNOWN ERRORUNKNOWN ERRORUNKNOWN
ERROR CODE 618.
"What the hell?" he said out loud. He refreshed the page, but it gave him the same thing. He slammed his fist frustratingly against his desk, wincing from the pain that came afterwards. He sighed, calming himself down, but didn't slump back into his chair. He kicked it out of the way and did everything he possibly could to get the thing to work right. Unplugging his computer and re-plugging it. Shutting it off and turning it back on. Closing and reopening the browser and all his tabs.
Still nothing.
He let out a growl and then just started hitting the refresh button a thousand times without letting the page even load first.
But then something changed.
Out of the blue, out of nowhere, his screen suddenly went black. The device hadn't crashed or shut itself off, it was still on somehow. Then his Files application opened. He flinched as his cursor moved without him even touching the mouse.
Cphr_3 . exe
Then it stopped. The random file still was on the screen. Slowly, he stepped forward, then looked around, shivering at the feeling of someone watching him. He knew he shouldn't do this, but he was right on the edge of solving this case. So he mustered up all of his courage, and clicked on it out of pure curiosity.
On his screen, millions of images and online articles about all the crime scenes Yellow had been at flashed at a million miles an hour. He jumped back as his eyes scanned over at it in worry and slight fear.
There was only one answer to this; someone must've hacked into the database.
Just as he was about to unplug his computer and shut it off, the lights in his house flickered off. Although it was cool outside, it wasn't raining. Someone had set this up and shut his power off. "Shit." he cursed as he rummaged around in his desk drawer only to find papers, chewed-up pens and paperclips. He didn't have a spare flashlight or even any candles nearby.
Then he heard footsteps behind him. Loud footsteps. As if they were trying to purposefully announce their appearance. He froze in place, eyes widening, but then turned around, daring to look at the face of the intruder.
Though it was dark, he was able to make out the facial features of him. And he looked just like the images of the person who he suspected was the criminal.
He almost gasped when he realized it. It was Yellow. It was Yellow himself.
This was the worst possible time too, because he was unarmed. He stepped back until his back was against the ledge of his desk, holding his hands up in a weak attempt of surrender.
A chuckle left the mans lips, and his wrists were grabbed. He was turned back around, a hand forcing his chin up so he was looking up at the ceiling. He felt a needle touch, or rather, prick, the skin of his arm, and he squirmed in protest, but that only resulted in the hold on him getting tighter. The fluid was injected, and he felt a wave of drowsiness come over him.
"Sweet dreams, Pinetree."
.△.
Dipper woke up to a pounding headache as he blinked multiple times, trying to see in the dark room. He lifted his hands to rub at his temples, only he couldn't. As he jerked his wrists he heard the rattle of chains. Just great, he thought to himself.
"So, you're awake. You kept me waiting too long, Pines."
On edge, his head snapped up to find the source of the voice, and it was who you'd expect it to be. He wasn't scared of him, though. Just... startled. Yeah, something like that. And he wasn't going to stay silent either.
"Why the fuck am I here?" he spat angrily.
"You know why."
"Don't play games with me, Yellow. Or should I say, Cipher?" he said, raising an eyebrow to get his point across. Behind his back, however, his hands were silently at hard work. Just a few more seconds and he could pry these handcuffs off of him...
He seemed to hum with amusement. "Why do you think you're here?" he replied, leaning in to show a full display of perfectly shiny and sharp teeth in his now-visible wide grin.
He would of flinched at the sight, but he prevented himself.
"Why do you think I'm not going to answer that, jackass?" Dipper threw back, cocking his head to the side as if to further challenge him. He thought about giving him his own smirk, but decided not to.
Click.
Cipher just started laughing hysterically as if he were insane - which he probably was. His grin got wider, if that was even possible, and he stepped out of sight.
"While I like the fire you've got in you, Pines, you're going to have to drop it if you want your sister to live." he heard him whisper in his ear. And this time, he did flinch.
When he stepped back into view, he threw the hardest punch he could directly at his face. He was trying to aim for the eye, but he missed and hit him on the cheek instead. He stumbled back, but only smiled when he recovered. "Gangsters don't cry. And besides, pain is hilarious. Don't you agree, Pinetree?"
The question made him freeze. The reason why he'd started a career in investigating criminal cases was because, honestly, death intrigued him. Like how a dog inspired a rabbit.
"You could be like me. I know you want to."
You know he's right, Mason, the voice inside of his head told him.
"No, no, you're wrong. You're wrong. I'm not going to be like you!"
But he's right. I thought you said you weren't going to lie like your mother did?
"Don't you dare use her death against me."
You promised yourself you wouldn't be a hypocrite.
"Shut up."
You promised yourself you would be honest to everyone around you, and that includes yourself.
"Shut up!"
You should forget your sister anyway. Kill her. She's just a selfish bi-
"SHUT UP!" he screamed as he punched the wall. He didn't even feel the pain. His whole body felt numb. Memories were playing and replaying in his head like a record, repeating over and over and over on end. At this point, his mind was so clouded that he didn't even know that the voices in his head weren't Cipher. He pushed his knees up to his chest as if he were a kid again, silently crying.
He didn't know how long he was there before he spoke up again.
"Okay, so maybe I'm fucked up. Yeah, I have trauma. My mother killed my father, and then killed herself. Yes, I have PTSD. And yes, I'm probably insane. You got a problem with that?!" he said harshly.
Silence. For a moment.
"Ya know, I could make it stop."
He lifted his head in interest, but didn't look at him.
"You could leave your job. Become a criminal. Kill people for a living. You'd love it. The feeling of someone''s fate right at your fingertips. I could give you the feeling of real power. All the department does is give you authority. But this? This is more."
Now he was in front of him, reaching out his hand.
"What do you say, Pines? Do we have a deal?"
He hesitated for a second, but the feeling quickly washed away. He shook his hand. For once, he felt accepted. It felt like a heavy weight was finally off of his shoulders. And he felt... more secure?
"Deal."
The man smiled gleefully.
"Name's William Cipher, but call me Bill."
As if on cue, his group of 'followers' walked into the room - all of them; Pyronica, Kryptos, Zanthar, 8-Ball, Amorphous Shape, Pacifier, Keyhole, and Teeth.
"You've got a lot to learn, Pinetree."
Never have I ever actually made crime sound like a good thing...
Welp, I can cross that off my bucket list!