I haven't updated this in a while and it's my most popular fic…what's up with that? Anyways, thanks for all the favs, follows and reviews (especially IvyVine6 who mass-reviewed I think all my stories within two hours)! Now onto the story!
He trailed off and dragged Mabel upstairs to see if his suspicions were correct. He slowly picked up the journal and leafed through the pages, only to stop in the middle. The place the teen assumed the author had mysteriously vanished was now filled with the same pages from his dream the night before. Dipper lost his grasp on the book he clenched in his hands. It fell to the floor in a heap, leaving him trembling.
"Dipper? You okay?" Mabel questioned worriedly, trying to snap her brother back into reality.
"I-it wasn't a dream, it was a premonition." The boy barely audibly stammered as he stepped back from the book, "We're the twins."
"So wait, if we're the twins, do I get to have kittens for fists or something? 'Cause that would be awesome!" Mabel chimed as she danced around Dipper, who was still focused on the book in his shaking hands. He scanned the new page over and over, trying to make sense of it all. Dipper slammed the book shut in frustration, sending a swirl of dust into the air.
"Why Mabel?" He started, looking concerned, "Why us?"
"'Cause we're great!" she started with a braced smile, "Plus, we kind of already do the whole monster hunt thing, even without powers, which I'm still hoping are kitten fists!"
Dipper shot her down with a disapproving glare, "Kitten fists, really?"
"Don't destroy my dreams, Dipper," She made her best serious face until it sent the twins into a laughing fit. It was quickly silenced by Stan absentmindedly walking into Dipper. He let out a small grunt and kept walking, eyes glued to the floor, into his bedroom. The siblings shrugged and continued their crazy conversation.
Stan reached over his plain sheets and grabbed the cracked frame that adorned his bedside table. He looked over the sepia-toned picture with an air of uncertainty and traced it cautiously with his finger before gently placing it back into the clean outline left in the dust.
"I know you're still out there."
The old man rolled into the center of the bed and stared up at the ceiling with his hands folded neatly across his chest, consumed in his memories that haunted his dreams.
A young boy adjusts his glasses, then his bow tie in the mirror of his rather large room. Looking over himself, he frowns in disapproval and sets his frames on the neighboring table. Someone appears in the background of his reflection and he smiles. She adjusts her hair in the same mirror and plants a freshly-picked flower above her ear to complement her dress.
"What's up, sis?" His voice alternates from deep and high-pitched, marking his age as somewhere in his early teens.
She sighs, "You know, still trying to get used to the whole 'twin telepathy' thing. Do you really have to think to me so much?"
He laughs, "Well, you're one to talk! All I can ever hear are the songs stuck in your head!"
"They're catchy, Stanford," she replies, but her cheery voice slows down to a deep, slow-motion mumble, sending shivers down his spine. The scenery shatters around the duo, trapping them in empty, silent darkness that seemingly stretches to infinity.
Suddenly, a flash of lightning reveals a drastic change of location. The white light reflects off the soaked pine needles and birch trees as he fumbles with his lantern that he grasps in his clumsy hands. It spills onto the ground, somehow igniting a tree with what appears to be eyeball-shaped knots engraved into its trunk. As the scene shifts from muted whites and blues to a fierce orange, he backs up, grabs his sister's hand and begins to run.
The trees grow as large as skyscrapers and close in around them. Paths seem to grow further away with each lunge forward, contorting the landscape into an endless loop of entrapment. Another flash of lightning strikes as they reach a dead end and the smooth black shadow of a pyramid appears before them. Then, everything fades to white.
Stan shot up in his bed, sweat dripping from his face, heart racing so fast that he gripped his chest in agony. He shuffled his reluctant feet into the slippers lined up on the patch of old carpet. Heaving his now wide awake body to a standing position, he trudged into the living room and eased himself into the outdated recliner in front of the television. His niece and nephew soon joined him, massive popcorn bowl in hand.
"Hey, Grunkle Stan? Is there something wrong?" Dipper questioned as he popped a few pieces of popcorn into his mouth.
"What? No. Nothing's wrong, kid. Why'd ya ask?" Stan deadpanned, only slightly turning to the boy, still mostly focusing on the ancient TV set.
"You've been staring at the blank screen for five minutes now…" He informed his uncle, "At first Mabel and I were going to see how long it would take before you noticed, but it got creepy real quick."
Mabel nodded in response and stole the popcorn bowl away at the chance, smiling as she drenched the once-healthy snack with an entire bottle of chocolate syrup and a container of sprinkles. She rubbed her hands together in anticipation and jammed a handful into her face, her eyes instantly widening as the sugar coursed through her veins.
"Okay, if anyone's got a problem, it's your sister over there. That's equally as creepy."
"Fair point," Dipper continued, narrowing his eyes, "But there's something else going on here.
And I'm going to find out what."
I really like suspenseful dream sequences. I'm insanely proud of my nightmare chapter in New Secrets (which was just updated, yay!). Stay tuned for more mystery and suspense in the next chapter of 618, coming to a thea—I mean computer screen near you!