So I woke up at like noon today, and I sat up, and I thought. I know what I want to write today. So I immediately grabbed my laptop and opened it up, and then got distracted by youtube. :'D
But I did finally managed to get this first part done. It's sort of on one of the loose ends that I think about a lot, so I mean it was only a matter of time before I wrote something on it. That said, this one's actually going to be short, like the plan is two or three chapters at most. Then maybe I can get back to work on It's Magic. :'D
Haven't forgotten or given up on that one, just a lack of motivation is all.
ANYWAY. Here you go~
It was dark and storming as they drove down the street that night.
Stanford and Stanley Pines were heading back to Gravity Falls for an impromptu visit. Mostly because on their adventures they had come across various treasures, and Stanley still found no safer place to put it than the mystery shack. Plus neither objected to a return visit and a short rest after all of their adventuring this far.
At the moment, they were bickering, as to be expected.
"It's my car, Poindexter."
"Yes, and unless you get those eyes fixed I'm going to be the one driving it." Ford says firmly. "We are not going to have another incident like last time."
"So what, I drive off a closed bridge one time, and suddenly I'm not allowed to use my own car anymore?"
"I'm glad we've come to an understanding."
"Pull over and let me drive!" Stan snaps, reaching for the steering wheel.
"No- Stan, stop this, you're behaving like a child!" Ford says, trying to smack Stan's hand away, and fight him off as he kept trying to get the wheel, "Will you stop, I'm trying to drive!"
"It's my car, pull over!"
"Stanley-" Ford suddenly gasps, slamming his foot on the breaks and swerving.
Stan huffs when they finally come to a stop.
"Jeez, Ford, I was barely even trying, you don't have to be so dramatic.
"No, Stan-" Ford was turned around, focused on peering out the back windows, "-something just ran out in front of us. Stay here, I'm going to see what it was."
He quickly unbuckles his seat belt and opens the car door, slipping out into the pouring rain. He could still see whatever it was that had run out into the road, but just barely, and he looks at it in confusion. It was just an odd grayish mass, at least as far as he could tell, trembling there in the road as he approached. No creature he'd seen before.
Ford approaches with caution, trying to make out what it was through all the rain, but as soon as it hears him approaching it quickly gasps and bolts.
"No, wait!" Ford sighs as it disappears into the trees. Normally he would go chasing it down, but on a night like this, well it just wasn't worth the trouble when he wasn't likely to catch it anyway.
He turns back to the car with a sigh- and then a frown when he sees Stan in the driver's seat, grinning widely at him.
The next morning Stan and Ford exited the Mystery Shack through the back, ready for a monster hunt. Much to Stan's disappointment of course, because though he wouldn't admit it he always did enjoy the stunts he pulled with Soos when he visited the Mystery Shack. He usually dragged Ford into it and pulled a 'oh look, amazing, clones!' type deal. He'd never understand why people so easily accepted clones when twins was a natural occurrence, but they did and they'd pay up so he wasn't complaining.
"So what are we looking for anyway?" Stan asks, crossing his arms. "You said yourself last night that all you'd managed to make out was a gray blob."
"And that's what we're looking for." Ford says, peering up at the sky. It had stopped raining for now, but the rolling grey cloud threatened to pour again any time. "We'll head back to that place on the road and search out from there. I don't perceive it to be a threat; it appeared more frightened than anything, so perhaps it's hidden instead of running far."
"Yes, well, that's what you said about that planty water whatever too. When we found it it tried to kill us."
"The nicor, Stan. And we handled that just fine too, so come on."
Stan just grunts and follows. "Fine but I'm driving."
It wasn't hard to find where they'd stopped on the road, skid marks plain as day. Ford paces around the area for a moment, looking for clues as to what had been there but found no trace of it, at least on the road. In the grass and mud he found a set of footprints. They were small, and it appeared there were four feet, and not paws, but that was all he'd managed to gain from that clue as the heavy rain had worked hard on making them indistinguishable. Still too large to be gnome feet, so at least he knew that's not what they were tracking.
"This way." He says, waving his hand at Stan, following the footprints.
The thing's sense of direction appeared to be scattered long after the incident on the road. Whatever it was, it was panicked long after the incident on the road. Perhaps it was in danger.
The more they followed the prints the more they seemed to regain their sense of direction, finally straightening out and heading in one direction.
"It was heading to higher ground." Stan interrupts, coming to a stop and putting his hands on his hips. At Ford's inquisitive glance Stan elaborates and gestures. "We've been walking up hill for fifteen minutes, my legs are killing me. And look where they lead."
Indeed, the set of prints were headed to a higher hill in the woods.
"Fascinating." Ford says, "It was afraid it was going to flood."
He pulls a book from his jacket and begins jotting down this new information with the information he'd managed to record the night before. Gray and formless. Four legs, more humanoid feed instead of paws or hooves. Afraid of floods, likely can't swim. He snaps it shut again, tucking it away.
"Come on, if it hasn't moved on with the rain stopped, we may have a chance of catching it."
The two of them work hurriedly but quietly up the hill, keeping within the trees to be sure that they would spot it before it spotted them. Just in case.
Ford stops Stan near the top of the hill and points upwards. Just above the treetops smoke could be seen. It could use fire in some way. Perhaps that's why it was afraid of flooding.
They continue on again, creeping through the last few trees to the top of the hill until it came in to sight...
Ford frowns, leaning back in confusion, and Stan only shrugs, raising his eyebrows. He was about as surprised as Ford was he was sure.
At the top of the hill was no creature, but a campsite. With a gray tarp for a tent...
Ford couldn't help but bring his hand to his face while Stan silently laughed at him. So caught up in the paranormal, it didn't even occur to him it could have been two campers they'd seen the night before.
It made sense of course, two campers get rained out, rush to find higher ground because their previous campsite was flooded, of course they could use fire, and there were four feet because there were two people. Though.
He takes his hand away from his face slightly, now looking more quizzical than frustrated.
There was one thing that didn't quiet make sense. Those footprints had been awfully small.