With breakfast done, the Mystery Kids took the bags of books to the living room and each took a book. Sitting at various spots in the room, they began to read (or in Wybie's case, skim-with-purpose).
Gregg watched cartoons quietly, listening to the sighs and turning of pages beside him. Wirt was cleaning the upstairs bedrooms so the kids could spread out and each get their own room, despite having the gut feeling that they would still want to stay together regardless.
Norman was the first to finish a book, tossing it on the table and letting out an exasperated groan, "This is useless. Hyle has to know more than she's letting on, we will make no progress this way!"
Mabel scoffed, not looking up from her book, "What would she have to gain by lying to us, Norman?"
"I don't know, maybe she's in kahoots with it!" Norman put his face in his hands and screamed into them, muttering to himself. "At least with the witch I knew what I was up against..."
"What are we, chopped liver?" Coraline nudged Norman with her foot. "We're all in this, we all have to deal with this."
After a couple of minutes there was a subdued knock at the front door, Wybie got up to answer it and after some quiet words exchanged, looked at the others with an odd look on his face.
"Some old guys are here looking for the twins." Wybie announced, Dipper and Mabel sharing a glance.
"Damn, kid, did no one teach you manners?" A gruff voice chided.
"Where is Dipper and Mabel?" Another voice followed.
"Grunkle Stan? Grunkle Ford?" Dipper jumped up, followed by Mabel who tackled their great-uncles with a hug.
"We took a plane, believe it or not. Good on you, Dipper, for paying extra for express delivery." Ford rubbed Dipper's head.
"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Stan smiled at Mabel, then his smile fell. "We were actually on our way back but we got your letter and took a plane instead. We heard from Soos about a strange death and it seemed... supernatural... so we were trying to come back, but when we realized you kids were here again... Yeah. So here we are."
"So what are we hunting down, exactly?" Stan asked, noticing all the other kids in the room waved half-heartedly and stepped inside.
"Your guess is as good as ours, honestly." Norman sighed, laying his head down on a book in defeat.
"Your motivation is inspiring." Stan deadpanned, "Let's get you kids out of the house for a while, we'll talk somewhere."
"We're under house arrest." Wybie interjected, leaning up against the front door. "Can't."
"You'll be safe with us," Ford assured. "It will only be for a little while. Where is your caretaker?"
"Wirt, he's my cousin, he's in charge of Coraline and Wybie too. He's upstairs."
"And you are?"
"I'm Gregg." Gregg responded.
"My name is Norman," he smiled at Gregg who was grinning to himself. "Gregg is my cousin too."
The uncles nodded to themselves and Ford headed upstairs while Stan stayed with the group.
"So what direction are we going in with this?"
"We know it's doglike and likes tearing people apart." Mabel responded, "That's about it."
"Do we know if it actually ate anyone?" Stan asked.
The kids looked at each other in shock, they hadn't even thought of that. Were they sure if this thing ate anyone? The kills were predatory, sure, but could it have been territorial?
"We don't know," Dipper answered. "Wendy said she is gonna try to get coroner's reports."
"That girl will always be a troublemaker." Stan grumbled to himself.
"That girl is our best bet right now," Wirt snapped, leaning against the stair railing. "Coroner reports are the best chance we have of getting any leads, Stanley Pines."
"So you're Wirt, huh? The squirt always called you Conehead, never knew you were the owner of Bluebird."
"Am I missing something?" Coraline whispered to herself. Wybie shrugged with a lax expression in response.
"Gregg used to go to the Mystery Shack a lot when we first moved here, made pretty good friends with Stan here and Soos too. I, on the other hand, prefer to keep away from tourist traps. The woods by the Shack gives me the creeps." Wirt explained to no one in particular, almost as if he was doing a development reveal for the sake of story progression.
"Creeps, why? You scared of something, Wart?"
"Wirt. And no, it's just that I get a bad feeling around there. I know what danger feels like and I trust my gut."
"You worried about the big shadow monster?" Stan asked mockingly, much to the discomfort of Ford who looked at though he wanted to step in.
"Shadow monster?" Dipper squinted, "... There was something like that in the journal."
"The hide-behind," Ford argued, "is a trickster at best. Harmless."
"Ever considered there is more than one? How do you know they're all harmless?" Wirt asked, hands shaking a little at the familiar fear of remembering the Forest Beast and his lantern. "Gregg... You told him?"
Gregg nodded quietly, eyes glued to the floor, "I told Soos, he said he wouldn't tell, but I guess he told him anyway. The Stans said they knew what it was, and knowing would make it less scary for us..."
"Well are you satisfied, Gregg? Did it help?"
A silence fell, the Gruncles seeing their opprotunity to leave, slipped out without a word. They'd get the kids out of the house later when Wirt cooled off.
"No," Gregg whispered, "because that means there may be more than one."
Wirt sighed, "So this 'Hide-Behind' is the Forest Beast, what does it matter?"
"It means that there is rarely ever just one of anything. Whatever we're dealing with may not be the only one in the world. Look at doppelgangers, they're in practically every country's myth somehow. This thing may not be working alone." Dipper explained with frustration.
"Oh god, that is the last thing we need to hear right now." Mabel whispered, putting her face in her hands.
"Chill, Mabel, we can handle this. All of us are in this together." Wybie assured, reaching over to touch her shoulder. "We have to believe in ourselves."
"Thanks, Bob Ross..." Coraline muttered to herself.
"More importantly," Wirt started, "if Wendy is helping you with this she better hurry, it's not like you all have time to waste."
"Heard that," Wendy interrupted, walking in through the back door.
"Did no one ever teach you to knock?" Wirt hissed, turning his head towards her.
"In my house, you lock the door or people come in. With the state of things, you should remember to lock all your doors and windows, anyway."
Gregg- unsettled by the conflict between Wirt and Wendy, as well as being told on by the Gruncles, went back to his room to read away from all the drama.
"I don't need a lecture from-" Wirt started but was cut off by Wendy.
"Got the info, guys, Magnolia came through." Wendy set the copied records on the table, pulling a personal post-it note from the front. "I didn't get too good of a look but something stuck out, big-time. There's a toxicology report in here that tells multitudes."
"Meaning?" Dipper's ears perked, watching her intently as she sat on the floor with crossed legs and a quiet curse as she bumped her knee on the coffee table.
"The victims so far have all been clean in terms of toxicity. Squeaky clean, in fact. The ages are all different, walks of life are different, but the thing they all share is this," she raised her fingers with each she counted off. "No alcohol in their blood, at all, not even a low level you get from using mouthwash. No nicotine, no caffeine. It's eerie, right? It's not just me thinking it?"
"That's... not a coincidence. No way it can be. The chances of that happening are..." Norman stops for a moment, does the math in his head and sighs. "There is a less than half of one percent that this thing managed to pick these victims at random. There's a method to this... But what?"
"This." Coraline pointed, spreading the coroner pages side by side. "Something else. They were all healthy with no serious illness or disabilities, roughly-average weights even for their different heights."
"Maybe it's ritualistic? Like it has to choose certain types of people?" Mabel's eyes widened and she lowered her voice and looked at Wendy with a stern gaze. "This may sound crazy... But what if they're virgins too?"
"Oh my god, please don't say that word in my presence." Dipper whispered in discomfort, much to the mild amusement of the others.
Wendy coughed to supress a laugh.
"I'm serious!" Mabel insisted. "It's the oldest ritual in the book. Sacrifice some virgins for the big scary monster, but this thing would have taken it upon itself to scrounge up its sacrifices... But why?"
"Maybe it needs a power-up." Wybie offered, "something like that probably doesn't get the chance to do all this without being noticed."
"Right." Wendy exhaled, slapping her thighs in finality. "I have to get to work. Some of us have real jobs to get to. I'll let you know if anything comes up, you kids be careful."
"I'll walk you out." Wirt muttered, following Wendy out the back door with a fierce rigidity in his posture.
The kids watched the two leave and turned their attention away from their own thoughts for a moment, trying in vain to hear what the two talked about. The room fell quiet only for a few moments before the silence was interrupted by Mabel shuffling through the stack of papers with interest, in hopes of finding information to possibly support her theory. Like that, the spell was broken. Wybie continued to look through the books while Coraline joined Mabel with reading the background checks and coroner reports.
Dipper stood, walking to the front window and sighed, "I need to get my journals. I forgot them between... everything."
"I'll go with you," Norman offered, feeling sick with worry over everything. "I need a break."
"We'll tell Wirt," Coraline assured, "just take your phones. If you aren't back in a couple hours, we'll send out a search party."
"It won't be that long-" Dipper shook his head, pulling on his shoes, securing his phone in his pocket.
"That was her attempt at a joke," Wybie muttered, "better hurry before he finishes talking to Wendy or you may never get out of here."
"Yeah," Norman agreed, putting on his shoes and putting his phone in his hoodie pocket. "Be back soon."
...
They stepped outside and walked towards the Mystery Shack with a heavy silence between them, when walking along the path they noticed a dirt road off to the side, trailing away from the main part of town.
Norman stopped at the edge of the path, transfixed by something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Dipper turned around after already walking several yards ahead and jogged back.
"What's up, Norman?"
"I need to go down this path." Norman told him, looking at Dipper with an odd expression. "There's something I need to see. I can feel it."
Dipper's eyes closed as he exhaled through his nose in exasperation, "See what? All that's back there is a bunch of abandoned cottages, I saw them last time I was here. Most of them were destroyed during Weirdmageddon by a giant robot."
"Dipper," Norman insisted.
"Alright. Lead the way, Ghost Boy." Dipper put his arm out in a mock-bowing gesture before taking stride beside Norman.
The path was overgrown with clovers and vines that made the dirt path nearly invisible, save for the downtrodden earth beneath the foliage. At some point, the trees drew closer and closer together, making the path feel even smaller and more uninviting. The further they walked, the more houses they saw demolished or in desperate need for repairs. At the end of the road was the only house that seemed habitable, faded yellow siding and dark trim hiding underneath years of overgrowth.
The closer they got, the more they realised someone must be living in the home. A few white plastic chairs and a table sat out front, fairly clean. Windows were open with drawn curtains, the lavender cloth flapping in the noontime breeze. Once they had gotten within 5 feet of the home, a door opened, a figure sweeping dirt out onto the lawn.
The figure's head turned up to the sky, shielding their eyes from the brightness and then allowed their eyes to land on the figures of Norman and Dipper walking towards the house. The figure straighted, seeming taller as a grin broke out on their face.
"Oh my lord... Dipper Pines, is that you?" The voice called out with a familiar tone.
"Wait," Dipper's expression contorted into shock. "Gideon!?"