WARNINGS: Blood, Intense fighting scenes, gore, mentions of domestic abuse, death, nightmares, SWEARING, among other things that'll come up later. So, if you're 9 and reading this on your own time, PLEASE close your tab right now, and GO READ THE BIBLE OR SOMETHING! This is, like, PG 13, soooo yeah, prepare yourself!
Also, I'm skipping a bunch of the scenes, but keeping the important stuff, only cutting off like 10% of anything at MAX, just to make it a BIT more fast-paced. It's pretty much the same otherwise.
ROSES ARE RED, VIOLETS ARE BLUE, I DO NOT OWN, SO PLEASE DO NOT SUE!
Dipper was scared, and that wasn't something he ever admitted to anyone. Well, except his sister when he had the occasional nightmare, but that was beside the point.
(He'd be screaming in the night, and Mabel would have to wake him up to quiet him and prevent their father from going into another drunken rage.)
He didn't want to leave the safety of the shack, of his sister simply being there with him.
(His father was the only reason he ever had nightmares.)
At the very least, he didn't want to go alone. It didn't matter that he could wipe the floor with any foe he faced, or knock out a man quintuple his size with nothing but his bare fists.
(He had to learn how to fight to defend himself from his father's wrath. To defend Mabel.)
Every time he went into the woods, he felt a strange chill. Like something (or someone) was watching him. Something much more powerful and sinister. Something out for blood.
His blood.
But once again, the Fates wanted to screw with him.
"I need someone to put out these signs in the woods." Grunkle Stan said to nobody in particular.
"Not it." Dipper, Mabel, and Soos said in unison. "I wasn't talking to you, Soos." The man-child looked at the conman from atop the ladder perched on the wall. "I know. And I'm comfortable with that." He took another bite of his chocolate bar. "Wendy. C'mon, put them out."
Wendy didn't look up from her phone but lazily reached out towards him. "I can't, it's… unh. I would, but… unh. It's… unh. Too far."
Stan groaned in exasperation. "Then I guess we'll have to take a vote. Eeny Meenie, Miney, you." He said, pointing at Dipper. The boy was baffled, and not in a good way.
"Ugh, seriously? Grunkle Stan, every time I go in there, I feel like I'm being watched." The conman rolled his eyes. "This again? All that stuff is just local legends that people like me use to sell junk to people like that." He said, pointing to a man dumbly playing with a snow globe.
(He didn't seem to notice the comforting hand he had placed on Dipper's shoulder. It felt warm, grounding, and he didn't want it to leave.)
So, grumbling under his breath, Dipper grabbed the signs, stuffing the nails into one pocket of his red sports jacket and the hammer into the back pocket of his jeans before warily heading out into the forest (read: his doom.)
After a while in the forest, Dipper had begun to shake off his worries, but the tension in his shoulders and the back of his mind never released.
(Not unlike whenever his father was home. When he and Mabel would cling to each other in the cold, trying their best to be quiet on those nights.)
His gut instincts were screaming at him to get away, run, run_
Clang.
The sound echoes through the woods, and Dipper dropped the hammer with a wince, startled out of his thoughts. (He honestly needed to stop losing himself in his thoughts and start being more perceptive.)
(Something told him that perceptiveness and awareness (beware the unknown) would serve him better than he wanted to admit.)
But fear made way to curiosity, and Dipper stared at the tree intently. Now that he thought about it, a few of the bark lines didn't look so normal…
He knocked gently on the "wood." More metallic clangs. He felt around for a fault in the wood, eventually finding a dent that seemed to have an unnatural groove, almost like a built-in handle.
He pried open the door without a second thought. The dust blasted into his face, assaulting his eyes and throat. But after coughing away the dust and dirt, Dipper examined the machine inside the tree compartment. It looked like a cross between a CD player from the 1960s and a compact radio from the 1920s. (He would know. He had a radio from the 1920s. What? It looked cool!) Either way, it looked ancient, and a bit complicated for something with so few switches.
He flicked one. Nothing happened. He flicked another one, and heard a grinding, almost rumbling sound behind him. He whirled around to find a small square of dirt and stone move aside into an empty slot to reveal a compartment in the ground.
Hesitantly, feeling like he was trembling, (from fear or excitement, he didn't know) Dipper walked over to the secret cubby.
A book (no, a journal) lay there in the empty space. At this point, Dipper was having a mental battle over whether to be excited beyond belief, desperately underwhelmed, or relieved that it wasn't some monster. So, with teeter-tottering emotions, he leaned down and picked up the journal. Dipper brushed the dust off the cover and gazed at the strange book.
The covers were reddish-brown leather with golden corners, and the pages were yellow and worn-out. But the weirdest thing was the hand. A golden, six-fingered hand decorated the front cover, a huge 3 written in the center of it.
Curiosity reaching nuclear levels, he opened Journal 3.
Immediately, his mind was assaulted with excitement and possibilities. "Zombies? Gnomes? An evil dream demon?!" Dipper thought aloud. "I was right! There is paranormal activity in this town! In all of Gravity Falls!" He flipped to page one and began reading.
"My suspicions have been confirmed. I'm being watched. Ha! I was right! I gotta show Mabel!"
So, signs, tools, secret compartments and worries forgotten, Dipper Pines broke out into a mad dash towards the Mystery Shack.
"Mabel! Hey Mabel!" Dipper's slightly British accent tearing through the monotony of Gravity Falls' idiotic adds on TV. (Dipper once went to London for a few months. He was part of a student program for his abnormally high IQ. And since he stays in touch with his "mates" in London, he hasn't let go of the accent ever since.)
(They were the worst, coldest and pain-filled months of Mabel's life. And as Dipper grudgingly admitted, his too. She never wanted to be separated from her bro-bro again. She needed his protection, he needed her warmth.)
"What is it, Dipping-spice?" Mabel called out from the living room couch, muting the TV.
Dipper ran in, clutching an old book under his arm, his breaths labored and eyes full of wonder. His outfit looked a little dusty, but it was still the same. A black T-shirt under his red and white sports jacket, baggy cargo pants that he had pulled up to his knees, and sea-green sneakers. It was his "signature look", much like Mabel had her own. She wore black mid-calf leggings, a white T-shirt with a shooting star that left a rainbow trail in its wake, a knee-length purple skirt, her hot-pink hoodie wrapped around her waist, and light pink sneakers. To top it off, her hair was done in a high ponytail. But the book Dipper was holding took her thoughts away from looks and onto what her twin was about to say.
"Mabel, I just found the most amazing thing!" Dipper said breathlessly, his eyes wild with excitement.
(Mabel couldn't help but smile and laugh. It had been so, so long since he looked so happy.)
"Alright, settle down, tiger. What d'ya wanna show me?" Her brother grinned so wide Mabel was worried his face might split open.
"While I was putting up the signs, I found this hidden book in the woods, and it proves that I was right all along! Gravity Falls is filled with the paranormal!" Mabel gasped comically, punching his shoulder playfully. "Shut up!" she said, laughing. Dipper only continued. "Mabel, we could discover the mysteries of Gravity Falls! Unlock the secrets of this place, become famous for it! We could_!"
The doorbell rang. Dipper pouted, probably from being cut off. And this time, it was Mabel's turn to grin like a manic.
"Well, dear brother, while you were out doing nerdy things, I got myself a date." Mabel gloated. Dipper could only stare, confused beyond belief. "So in the half an hour I was gone, you got a boyfriend?" Mabel smiled smugly and went to open the door. The pale, goth teen boy greeted her in the doorway.
Dipper for one, couldn't believe what he was seeing. Mainly because he didn't really want to. This was the "boyfriend" that Mabel picked up? Some dingy, shady goth teen that looked like he hadn't seen the sun in years? "Hey, Mabel." He greeted, his voice dry and awkward from disuse. Mabel walked up to him, leaning on his arm slightly. "We met at the cemetery. He's like, really deep."
Dipper wasn't convinced. "What's your name?" he asked, evidently trying to keep the growl out of his voice. The teen seemed to almost convulse (Dipper inwardly shuddered at the grotesque display) before yelling "Normal… MAN!" Mabel didn't even flinch. "He means Norman."
That was when he noticed the red stain on Norman's forehead.
"Norman, is that blood on your face?" Norman hastily smeared it away. "It's… jam."
Mabel, probably not wanting the awkwardness any longer, spoke up. "Well, we should be heading out, so let's get going, Norman!" She winked at her brother, led Norman out the shack, and shut the door, leaving a bewildered and seething Dipper in her wake.
Dipper wanted to break them up, prove that Norman was some sort of monster, do anything to get his sister away from that creep. But if he tried anything, someone would find his dead body on the street not 24 hours later. Cause of death: Murdered by his sister.
She's stronger than you give her credit for, Dipper chided himself. Mabel can hold her own in a fight. If she's not back by late afternoon, I'm going out and looking for her.
So he waited. And waited. And waited.
The first hour passed easily. He just watched TV to calm down.
The second hour had him reading the journal, engrossed in the detailed descriptions and journal entries. (If Norman wasn't a zombie, he'd eat his shirt!)
The third hour was filled with him gnawing at his nails, worrying about Mabel's safety.
The fourth hour, he was practicing hand-to-hand combat with Wendy, (it was a sort-of tradition that they developed ever since she found out just how combat-savvy Dipper was.) his anger and strength shocking her.
The fifth hour, he'd had enough, and prepared himself for a sister-search. He wrapped his knuckles in gauze, pocketed his hatchet, and checked the clock for the zillionth time that hour. 6:15.
Mabel should've been home 30 minutes ago. And she's never late… Naturally, Dipper's thoughts transitioned from worse to worst, and he grabbed his baseball bat (he didn't play, it was just his favorite weapon. Balanced weight, non-fatal, and quite precise, if you knew how to wield it.) and spun it in his left hand. And yes, he was a lefty. Its handle rested comfortably in his palm, his fingers gripping it in a familiar hold. He swung it a few times, practicing his whacking and jabbing and slashing.
6:45. He'd had enough. He ran downstairs and asked (demanded) Wendy for the keys to the golf cart, and to his surprise, she said yes without hesitation. Maybe it was the rage on his face or the determination set in his eyes. Either way, Wendy Corduroy knew that Mason Dipper Pines was not a force to be reckoned with.
And after an entire day of fantasizing different ways to kill Norman, Dipper was in the golf cart, hurtling through the forest at full speed to wherever he hoped his sister was, baseball bat on the seat and murder in his eyes.
If anyone ever asked her about whether or not she wanted Norman to be a vampire, Mabel won't even answer. She felt like it was an understandable plea, given what happened about a minute after finding out that he wasn't a vampire at all. Oh no, Mabel Pines' first boyfriend was a BUNCHA GNOMES.
Yeah, you read that right. Gnomes.
Mabel wanted to yell and cry and punch this man (men?) in the face. But her mind had decided that going into has stopped working mode was appropriate for the situation. If anything, Norman could've been a werewolf and she may have been able to comprehend that. But this? No, this was her brother's level of crazy.
She didn't get their names, but her measly brain decided to tune in on the important bits. A few phrases at most, but it was something. "Need queen…. Kidnap you… Tie her up…" Not much, but enough to understand what the hell was going on here.
And if Mabel could remember anything in the heat of the moment, gnomes surrounding her, it was how to play soccer.
She let out a furious battle cry and kicked two of the gnomes into a nearby tree. They hit the ground but got back up within a split second, barely fazed. Mabel repeated the tactic, but they just kept coming, only slightly worse for wear each time around. But she didn't have time to think. Her body was in a frenzy, adrenaline, and a bit of fear the only things keeping her going.
But everyone had their limits, and Mabel had barely reached hers when she was pinned to the ground.
So, she did the only sensible thing a normal girl would do in this situation. Not saying she was normal at all, but she had to play her trump card while she still could.
"HELP!"
The familiar scream echoes through the forest.
(Familiar. Too familiar. It had lurked in the corners of Dipper's subconscious for God knows how long. It triggered memories. Memories of "home." Memories of his father. Memories that made him think he wasn't strong enough. Made him think that everything was his fault, that Mabel was going to die too young too young too you-)
(Dipper didn't want to remember.)
And as much as he hated hearing that sound,_
(Please not again, never again.)
_it had served its purpose: alerting him to his sister's location. He screamed out a response. "MABEL!?" She instantly replied "Dipper! Come quick! Help m_mph!"
If Dipper was angry before, he was fuming now. Nobody even looked at his sister the wrong way if they knew what was good for them.
A large part of him was boiling with blood-red rage. But a smaller part was admittedly a little curious. What could have possibly beaten Mabel in a fight? She wasn't nearly as skilled in the art of combat as Dipper, but she could easily beat her enemy to a bloody pulp. But Mabel? Struggling in a 1v1? It just didn't make sense.
Luckily for Dipper, Mabel's current situation made it painfully obvious.
It had been a 7v1 for the poor girl, the little men (most likely gnomes) pinning her down and tying her up. So when the girl's eyes locked onto Dipper's, slight desperation gave way to hope and a bit of rage in her eyes. In a final show of strength, she threw off all of the potential captors, ripped off her bindings, and pretty much leaped into the golf cart.
"Seatbelt" Dipper quickly reminded her. And just as the quiet click was heard, they were off, speeding onto the main road and towards the shack. Mabel babbled on at the speed of light, explaining everything she could in the span of about 90 seconds.
And then the sounds started.
It began as a distant rumbling before defining into a thump, thump, THUMP, THUMP that filled Dipper with a heavy sense of dread.
Dipper dared to look back and instantly regretted what he saw.
A huge monster, twice the size of the Mystery Shack. It looked like a thousand gnomes all gathered together and locked into synchronization.
All out for your sister.
And at that thought, Dipper's vision went red. He slammed his foot on the pedal, and the cart bolted at twice the speed. He dodged and swerved incoming tree missiles, and punched off any bothersome gnomes. Mabel, on the other hand, was taking care of most of the gnomes on the cart, throwing the little men off the roof and sides.
And after the most dangerous, adrenaline-filled moments of his life, the banged-up golf cart skidded to a halt and swerved into the wall of the Shack. So when the dust cleared, the Pines twins crawled out of the destroyed vehicle.
"End of the line, kids!" the top gnome spoke. "Mabel, marry us before we do something crazy!" Dipper turned towards his sister, hoping to find rage, disgust, anything that told him that his sister would not go along with this.
But looking into her big brown eyes, he only found a firm stare, an almost hidden sense of defiance that didn't get past Dipper.
"I gotta do it," Mabel said with firm resignation. Dipper was stunned, but also not exactly surprised. His sister wasn't dumb, she knew when she could win or lose a fight. And two kids versus a creature of unimaginable horror? At the moment, it seemed that the battle was already spoken for.
But that didn't mean that Dipper wouldn't fight till the end.
"What?! Mabel, don't do this! Are you crazy?"
"Trust me."
"What?"
Mabel turned to him and smiled. "Dipper, just this once. Trust me!" The boy 12-year-old couldn't help but feel reassured by the warmth and love in that smile, so he backed away. Mabel looked up at the beast. "Alright, I'll marry you." The gnome smiled. "Hot dog! Help me down there, Jason! Thanks, Andy! All right, left foot, there we go, watch those fingers, Mike." He approached Mabel and held out a diamond ring. "Eh? Eh?" Mabel held out her hand, and the gnome swiftly put the ring on her. "Bada-bing, bada-bam! Now let's get you back into the forest, honey!"
Mabel smiled, almost smirked, and spoke with a little too much pride in her voice. "You may now kiss the bride!" The gnome looked surprised, but not in a bad way.
(Dipper hated it, hated him.)
"Well, don't mind if I do." He leaned up, and Mabel leaned down.
And once their lips were inches apart, Dipper heard the whir of machinery and a sound that he could only pin down as one thing: The leaf blower.
"Ah! Hey, hey, wait a minute! Whoa, whoa! Wh-what's goin' on?!" The gnome cried out desperately as he was sucked into the machine. Mabel growled angrily. "That's for lying to me!" She turned up the power on the suction. "That's for breaking my heart!"
"Ow, my face!" the gnome cried out, the complaint muffled by the metal around his face. "And THIS is for messing with my brother!" She handed the leafblower to Dipper. "Care to do the honors?" Her soft tone didn't match her sly smile.
Dipper grinned wickedly. He'd been waiting all day for this. Now, he was angry and ready to kill.
And anyone who knew him at all, even his own Grunkle Stan, knew that a bloodthirsty Dipper was like a volcanic whirlwind, and a killer Mabel was a torrent of lightning. Two destructive forces of nature that if combined led to nothing but catastrophe.
(He would know. The last person who ignited that ruination was dead now.)
(Dead at his hands. His supposedly weak, slender, baby soft hands.)
"Together," he said, letting Mabel grab the other side of the leafblower. Her hold was gentle as she let him aim the makeshift gun. "On three."
The twins grinned as they spoke together. "1, 2, 3!" They pulled a few handles and off the poor gnome went, blasting straight through the monster.
"I'LL GET YOU BACK FOR THIIIIIIIS!" It screamed as it flew into the unknown.
"The gnome monster, upon impact, exploded into a thousand tiny creatures. They all hit the floor and fumbled around dazedly.
"Orders! I need orders!" One of them spoke. "My arms are tired…" Another groaned.
But all their supposed tiredness seemed to disappear when they saw the Pines twins leaning over them, angry and psychotic and out for blood. Dipper spun the baseball bat in his hands, and Mabel casually flipped a short iron rod too heavy for anyone her age to even lift. But hey, Mabel had always been a sucker for heavy weapons.
"Anyone else want some?" Dipper said with a smirk. Mabel giggled cutely. "I think they do, dear brother. Shall we?" The boy brandished his weapon. "Ladies first."
And within minutes, they had turned the Mystery Shack backyard into a gnome graveyard. (gnomeyard? Dipper didn't want to know.)
Dipper swung and smacked, blood staining the bat and his hands, splattering onto his shirt. He grinned and smirked, and maybe even laughed a few times, a sound that terrified both him and his enemies. Mabel, however, was taking a little too much joy in slamming the rod down onto each individual gnome, the girl somehow creating a makeshift waka-mole game out of it. The sickening crack of bones heard from her little… predicament. And when she wasn't doing that, she was smacking gnomes away with her signature golf swing.
And by the end of it, the gnomes that remained (in honesty, the kids only killed about 30. They weren't crazy, nor were they heartless.) ran back into the forest, leaving only mutilated corpses, a bloody lawn, and two exhausted 12-year-olds.
So when the sun began to set, Mabel got straight to the point. "Hey, Dipper? I, um… I'm sorry for ignoring your advice. You really were just looking out for me." Dipper smiled fondly. "Oh, don't be like that. You saved our butts back there." Mabel frowned softly. "I guess I'm just sad that my first boyfriend turned out to be a bunch of gnomes."
Dipper laughed. "Look on the bright side. Maybe your next one will be a vampire!" The girl shoved his shoulder playfully. "Oh, you're just saying that!"
The boy sighed. "Awkward sibling hug?"
Mabel smiled. "Awkward sibling hug."
They hugged each other gently, careful on the bruises and still-bleeding cuts and scrapes. "Pat. Pat."
The pair trudged into the Shack through the front door, the only thing on their minds being showers and sleep.
Stan, despite being busy counting a wad of money, noticed their disgruntled state. "Yeesh. You two get hit by a bus or_"
Then he saw the bloody handprints (bloodprints? Again, NOT THE TIME FOR WORDPLAY!) on their backs. "Orrrr you hit a bus?"
They almost reached the stairs when he took pity on them. "Uh, hey! W-wouldn't you know it? Um, I accidentally overstocked some inventory, so, uh... how's about each of you take one item from the gift shop? On the house, y'know?"
"Really?" Mabel asked excitedly. Dipper crossed his arms suspiciously, not that anyone could blame him. "What's the catch?"
"The catch is do it before I change my mind, now take something."
So they began to look around. Dipper's eyes caught sight of a black revolver in the far, unlit corner of the shop (for obvious reasons.) He'd never had a gun before, so he smiled when he picked it up, along with all the packs of bullets there. He smiled in awe as he ran his fingers over the gun. It was a Colt Single Action Army, the greatest revolver ever made. Why Stan would have it for sale in a TOURIST TRAP, Dipper didn't know. But he didn't bother asking.
Mabel rummaged through a box in another corner. "And I will have a… GRAPPLING HOOK!"
Stan looked at Dipper curiously. "Wouldn't she rather have, like, a doll, or something?" Said girl fired the grappling hook at the ceiling, and it pulled her up, her head narrowly missing the ceiling. "GRAPPLING HOOK!"
Stan smiled a little too fondly, his eyes brightening softly and his grin almost father-like. "Fair enough!"
Dipper couldn't help but smile.
Maybe Mabel was right.
Maybe things would be alright this summer.
Alright, don't expect me to update for the next month, I'm busy with school and have a LOT on my plate, but I hope you guys enjoyed this update of Fight Falls! Here, have some virtual cookies, my amazing readers! (::) (::) (::)