Seriously considering a major rewrite of this chapter (the plot wouldn't change, but hopefully I could improve the writing style). It would take some time, but I feel like I could do a better job with a couple of things. Any feedback is appreciated.
[]
I shake his hand. "You're, uh, our great-uncle, right?"
The man in front of me beams proudly. "The one and only! Stanford Pines, at your service. Well, not so much, since you're gonna be working for me."
"Huh?"
"Anyway!" He declares, turning on his heel. "Welcome to the world-famous Mystery Shack!"
He's gone. I turn to Mabel, who's standing with me on the porch. "So... what do you think?"
Eyes wide, she doesn't even look at me. "I think this is gonna be the best summer ever."
I sigh, picking up my suitcase from where I'd set it down. "Yeah, maybe."
I can barely keep up with her- she's exploring every room, commenting on every bizarre exhibit and gag gift she can find. Stan pops up once in a while to point out the more 'world-famous' details, but I'm not really paying attention.
"Alright, you guys wanna see the bedroom?" He points up the stairs. "Gotcha the penthouse suite, you know. Pricey stuff."
I blink. "That's the attic, right?"
"Well..." He grins. "It's all in the presentation."
"Hey hey hey!" Mabel squeals, jumping up and down. "Just thoughta somethin'! Y'know how nobody calls a grandpa 'grandfather' 'cause that's sorta dopey, right? Well, what if we called you 'grunkle'?"
Stan looks surprised, but shrugs. "Sure, why not?"
"Woohoo!" She cheers, then sprints up the staircase. After a moment, Stan turns and rolls his eyes.
"She'll probably forget about it by tomorrow, right?" I shake my head, but he doesn't notice, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Better go check it out, kid. Before she claims the bed that doesn't squeak like mice. Might HAVE mice, come'ta think."
"Yeah," I mumble. I don't know why, but something's bothering me. I move the strap of the suitcase over my shoulder, then start up the steps. Halfway to the top, I pause. A whim leads me to carefully walk back down, trying not to make any noise.
Stan is in the gift shop, standing behind the cash register. It looks like he's counting something, passing it from hand to hand, and he looks up when he notices me. "What's up, Dipper?"
"Uh..." I glance over to the hallway. "Just thirsty. The bus ride was kinda long."
He nods. "There's water in the kitchen." He looks back down, resuming his work.
"Thanks." I turn, feeling more relaxed, for some reason.
I don't know why I was worried.
[]
My eyes are getting tired. Orange light, black shadows. Rock walls and floors. Nothing really changes but the ceiling- some areas feel like small caverns, while others are so big I can't see anything above me.
I wonder if I'm even going the right way.
The noise is still there. Not loud enough to tell what it is, but enough that I'm always aware. Not just the roar of the falls back at the entrance. Not just the echo of my breathing, or the crackling torch in my hand. Something else.
It's voices it's whispering I know I can hear it I'm not crazy-
I shudder. A bend in the tunnel distracts me from my own thoughts, the angle keeping me from seeing anything. I swing the light forward, then cautiously move around the bend. Deep breath. Try to clear my head. Don't know why I'm nervous.
At first, it seems normal, another area like the dozens I've passed through. The only thing I notice is that the whispering- the sound, I remind myself, just the sound- is louder here. But a few steps take me further from the wall, and I start to see the holes in the ground, pits and trenches that shouldn't be there. They're scattered all around the cavern. I don't trust the thin stretches of land between, connecting the bizarre patchwork of rock and dark emptiness.
Approaching the nearest gap, I hold the torch over the opening, but even with the flickering light, I can't see anything at the bottom. I briefly wonder how deep it goes.
"Gravity Falls, Oregon."
The shock nearly makes me lose my balance- scrambling, I dart away from the edge. "Who's there?" I say quickly.
No response. The white noise is still growing, but I still can't tell what it is. And it's not nearly as clear as... whatever I heard. I turn, waving the torch, but I can't see anything.
"Gravity Falls, Oregon."
I'm shaking, and I can't stop. "Who's there?" I yell, ignoring the fear tugging at my throat.
The voice is familiar.
I don't even realize I'm moving, nervously stepping backwards, until my back touches the wall. Startled, I drop the torch, and instantly-
No
The light flares, brighter and fiercer-
NO
Darkness.
I don't know if the torch itself fell into one of the gaps, or if it simply burned out, but my vision is gone. There's... nothing. I blink, open my eyes wide, wave my hand in front of my face, but nothing changes. All I can see is red and green lines on blackness, the afterimage of the wavering fire.
I can't think, can't see, can't move. Pushing myself against the stone, I slide down the wall until I'm crouched on the floor, arms around my knees like a little kid. The sounds are worse, all resonating at once, blurred together so I can't tell what they're saying. Saying, because they're voices, and they're whispering, and they're getting louder and I can't-
"...like I'm being watched."
My breath stops.
That's my voice.
The sound changes, and now they're all saying it, over and over together, and now that I've heard it they're all crystal clear. "Stop it," I whisper, but it's lost in the cacophony.
"...feel like I'm being watched."
"Whenever I'm..."
"...being watched."
"...in those woods, I..."
It's me. It's all me. My hands are shoved against my skull, and shuddering, heaving breaths are the only way I can get air. This is wrong, this is so wrong, but I don't know how to stop it.
"Nobody ever believes anything I say." It's loud, and for a single frantic second I think maybe I said it, just now, but the chorus starts again and it's nothing but my own voice echoed back a thousand times.
How can the Sight do this?
"Maybe that old guy was crazy after all."
How long have they been watching me?
"Mabel, do you believe in ghosts?"
It's cold, suddenly I feel like it's freezing cold, and I'm wrapping my arms around me but the cold keeps getting stronger, and it's curled up inside my chest and it hurts-
"Yeah, right. I just think Wendy's cool, okay?"
They know everything.
"It's just... hanging out with you this summer's been fun."
The memory hits me, of when I said that to Mabel, and I'm feeling sick, I'm heaving forward but there's nothing in my stomach to lose, and the air is burning in my chest and my throat and I can't breathe.
"Everything is different now."
I realize I really can't breathe.
I can't-
It's happening again-
CAN'T BREATHE-
...The voices stop.
A few frozen, terrifying seconds pass, and I don't know what happened. But it's completely silent- for the first time since I've been here, I don't hear anything. In the darkness, I try to focus, try to only think about breathing, and it's easier this time. Before long, air is keeping me lucid, so I use the wall behind me to slowly stand up.
If I had more time, maybe I'd try to plan out my next move. I might start feeling sorry for myself, or think about everything the voices said, and wonder how the Sight could have been there to hear it all. Or maybe I'd just break down completely.
I don't do any of those things, because-
Because there's a light, and I can see...
It's Wendy.
...
Am I dreaming?
...
Is this a memory? A hallucination? Did I finally find out what's on the other side of panic- just keep going, with no one to stop me, and end up insane?
But it could be real.
No, it- there's no way. After everything, it can't-
I step forward.
Her eyes are closed. "Wendy," I say quietly. "Please, are you-"
Her head moves. She's okay.
I'm running. It's still dark everywhere but the light around her, and it's still quiet except my feet hitting the ground, and for once I'm not thinking of anything.
It's finally over.
I'm closer, and I can see her eyes flickering, like she's about to wake up-
Falling.
I step on nothing, and I'm falling. The holes... I wasn't thinking.
My fingers hit something, and I grab on, but the rest of me slams into the rock wall of the pit. Struggling, I'm able to get both hands onto some kind of ledge, unable to pull myself up any more.
It can't end here. I can't- I can't give up.
I strain to reach higher, but there's nothing else to hold on to, and my hand slips away. "No!"
But what if this is it?
I find the handhold again, trying not to think about the growing pain in my fingers.
What if I can't get out?
"No, no, no." I know I'm saying it out loud, but it takes my mind off this problem, so I keep going. "Can't think like that. Have to- I need to..."
The words fade into silence, and I'm left with nothing. No light, no sound, no way to get out- dread rises up until I can barely think of anything else. It's over.
Can't give up.
It's over.
Can't...
...
I don't know how much time passes, but it feels like hours. I can't cry, even though I thought I would. I just... I have nothing left. I can't do anything but wait.
Finally, I hear something. It's faint, but something is moving. "Hey," I choke out, then try again. "Hey!"
The sound stops. "Can you hear me?" I yell, and desperation warps my voice, making it more shrill and angry. "Please, I- help me!"
Light. There's a torch, moving closer, and I can see I'm only a few feet from the surface. Another voice is saying something. A hand reaches down.
...For a second, everything's okay again.
For a second, I let myself believe it might be Wendy.
Someone is pulling me out of the pit. I fall forward, hands on my knees, breathing heavily.
"Geez, kid."
I look up.
Standing in front of me, looking completely exhausted, is Robbie V.
He sighs. "Get it together."