The Return to Gravity Falls

by EZB

Mabel and Dipper return to Gravity Falls three years after their life-altering summer vacation spent with their Grunkle Stan, to find that Gravity Falls never stops being, well, weird. As the twins encounter old friends and reconnect with the supernatural inhabitants of Gravity Falls, new dangers lurk just outside of the knowledge of Uncle Stanfords old journals.

7. Old And New Faces: Part 2

Hey guys, EZB here. I just wanted to 'heads you all up' on this chapter. It is a tad bit darker than the normal chapters of this story. It's nothing you all shouldn't be able to handle, but we are meeting a villain of this series today- so expect some evil/gross stuff. (Nothing that couldn't be seen in Harry Potter level of gross)

Anyway, Enjoy!

---

The thick, acrid feeling of processed sugar and the taste of orange permeated on Mabel's tongue as she felt her mind return to consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw the arched ceiling of the attic room she and her brother stayed in, still moldy in some spots. Giving her lips a test-stretch, she realized her face was entirely crusted with dried out Pitt Orange, along with half her body.

She groaned. "So... crunchy," she quietly mumbled as she began to move her body, slumped over backwards against her bed. A large mess lay before her, grand and incredibly variable in its collection of trash. Dozens and dozens of cans of soda were crushed around them. Grenda had fallen asleep flat on the floor, face half in a large plate of nacho-chips. Candy was three-quarters of the way tucked inside her duffle bag, situated comfortably in her snuggled position.

Mabel took a step up, and found herself not entirely inside her head. The previous intake of sugar and processed foods had taken its toll. Her vision was intact, but her mind lagged; processing everything just a moment too slowly. Holding her head upright, she touched one of her hands against her sticky face. Nearly tripping off of Candy Chiu poking out leg, she made her way towards the door, and then to the bathroom. She dared herself to look into the mirror and was not entirely surprised. Her hair was sticking up in more places than she could possibly count.

"I am a candied Mabel," she muttered, and let herself fall into the shower, and turned on the cold water. Forgoing the sake of her clothes, she let the less than room temperature water splash her face and head. "Was worth it," she reminded herself with a groggy smile.

Indeed, the night had been fun. Those two ladies in the other room were Mabel's perfect get-aways from the rest of the world; something she had forgotten until last night. In California, back at school, she remembered the friends she had made. Many of them were perfectly fine people, some crazier than others. Yet almost all of them held a certain amount of judgment, something that was always laid at Mabel's feet. Even with her unshakable positivity, it still grated in the back of her mind.

Grenda and Candy, those two had no such concept of 'normality'. They themselves had felt the sting of separation, to be labeled as freaks. It was the consolation of being freaky that brought them closer than many other friendships. Mable smiled happily, even as her entire head became soaked in water. She stood back up, pulling a wash-cloth from a wrack and began to dry herself off.

"Now," She turned back towards the room, peering inside, "did Dip-Dip come to bed last night?" she asked herself as she craned her head to the side, looking past the doorway. His bed was truthfully empty, and she sighed. He was still that anti-fun boy she knew all her life. Never turning down a chance to do more work, Dipper was probably off researching more on the creeper from the library and his mystical studies.

With a strong yawn escaping her lips, she turned towards the stairs and descended. Hitting the landing softly, she peeked through to the gift shop and was surprised to see Wendy at her usual work post, and Soos straightening a variety of objects listed around the room. If they were here, then it was much later in the morning than she originally thought.

"Hey guys," Mabel croaked sleepily as she stumbled through the room.

Wendy, behind her newspaper, waved. "Hey," she said.

Soos turned to Mabel and smiled. "Sup dude. Up late solving mysteries?" Soos asked.

Mabel shook her head. "Mystery of the boy-crazy romance comedies, maybe," Mabel told him as she rubbed her eyes, "had sleep over with Grenda and Candy.

"Cool – wait," Wendy dropped her paper suddenly, staring at Mabel," they're here?"

"Yeah? Grenda's van is out front, isn't it?" Mabel answered with a quizzing look towards the red head. Wendy looked to the window in question, and nodded to herself. Mabel scoffed, and asked, "Why? You trying to hide a surprise from us?" Mabel guessed at the reaction Wendy had.

Wendy put the newspaper down. "No, dude," Wendy waved a reassuring hand at Mabel, "no secrets over here."

"I'll be keeping an eye on you," Mabel grinned at Wendy, who chuckled.

Wendy then snapped her fingers as her mouth fell open in realization. "Shoot! Hey, I'll be back in a bit guys," she said, moving towards the door, "I need to go do something quickly. It won't take too long. Cover for me, would ya, Soos?"

"Uh, sure," Soos nodded uncomfortably, "you, uh, just let the customers know how much they owe you, right?"

Wendy shrugged. "Something like that. You could probably just make up any number you'd like they'll still hand you money," Wendy said, grabbing her bike and helmet outside and riding off, "see you guys in a bit!"

Turning from waving away Wendy, Mabel rounded on Soos. "Speaking of customers, where are all the tourists? There's usually a few here or there buying stuff. I've seen, like, no one here since Dipper and I got back!"

As he stepped over to Wendy's usual post, Soos explained, "The season has yet to really begin, and Mister Pines made sure to announce the re-furnishing of the building, so people are aware that the best time to come around is after the Mystery Shack is officially a Manor."

"Mystery Manor," Mabel repeated to herself, her eyes squinting. She wasn't entirely sure she liked the idea of changing her iconic childhood summer hangout into anything else than what it already was. Losing that silly title was like letting go of something dear to her crazy heart. She sighed as she looked outside. "Well," she told Soos, "I'm going to go see if my brother will want to come inside," she told Soos as she stepped outside, "Dipper isn't as gracious a host as I am."

Soos nodded in understanding as Mabel took her first steps outside. To her surprise, she could only locate a few vehicles before her: Grunkle Stan's classic El Diablo, Grenda's worn love-van, and her own bike. She blinked, and looked around a bit more. She almost circled the entire house looking for his boring black car, and only found Soos's worn pickup truck.

"Soos," Mabel called as she circled around and came into the shop once more, "did you see Dipper leave anywhere this morning?"

"Come to mention it... no," Soos declared with a curt nod, "no, I did not see him leave. But then again, his car wasn't here either. That might have something to do with it."

Mabel groaned aloud, surprised she hadn't expected this from her brother. She reasoned that he probably took the car into town, looking for his own quiet place to do his stupid research. "Hey, you have your cell phone?" Mabel asked Soos, who nodded. "Can we call my brother?"

---

Dippers head was resting against the wheel of his car when he heard the loud buzzing of a cell phone vibration. He jerked up, feeling the pattern of the wheel pressed into his skin, and he wiped away the drool on his lips and chin.

Squinting at the bright summer morning, he stretched a creaky neck. "Ah... dang it," he moaned, looking at the time. It was already eleven, and he was parked nearby the junkyard, overlooking part of a street in downtown Gravity Falls. His phone buzzed, and he reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled it out. While he saw Soos' name on the caller ID, he knew exactly who was calling him. He flipped it open, and answered, "Hey Mabel."

"You dingus!" Mabel called through the phone, loud enough for Dipper to wince.

Incensed, Dipper gasped. "What? I'm a dingus!? You're the one who invited your friends over when we're in the middle of an investigation!" Dipper accused her grumpily.

"You didn't have to bail, like, off the face of the earth though!" Mabel retorted, "where are you? Timbuktu?"

"In town," Dipper sighed as he stretched his mouth lazily, "I was trying to watch for the book-thief."

"But what if something had gotten you?" Mabel asked.

Dipper registered the fear in her voice. A twinge of guilt cupping his inside, he explained, "I was in my car, dude. So... I'm fine. Eugh," he added with a sleepy smile, "You sounded like mom for a second there."

Scolding him from the other end of the line, Mabel said, "Maybe 'cus you're being stupid! Promise you're at least going to come back soon, okay?"

At her request, Dipper frowned. He looked down the street hopefully. He couldn't get a perfect visual on the library like he wanted. His parking was entirely free, which meant it was a gravel spot by the side of the road, not by an actual prime spot. He wondered if he would get lucky, and the chance of that was too tempting.

Wiping at his eyes, Dipper decided what he'd say. "Yeah, I'm just going to stick around a bit longer, you know? See if he decides coming back today," Dipper told his sister firmly as he turned his car on.

"Oh, c'mon dude. You don't really think he's going to return to the scene of the crime, do you?" Mabel asked him.

"He lost half his books, which he was willing to steal after being caught. And if I was a crazy magic, obsessed book collector," Dipper explained, "I wouldn't consider some teenagers renting the books for themselves. So yeah, I'd return to the scene of the crime, just to try checking them out." He heard Mabel sigh loudly. Dipper could almost feel her resting a palm of her hand onto her face. He added, "Just chill for an hour, okay? I'll be back."

"Fine. You better," Mabel said defiantly, "or I'll never let down that I can kick butt better than you!" She added teasingly.

"Wha- I can- you- fine! Whatever," Dipper growled and hung up.

Dipper grasped the wheel and spun it as he left the gravel parking lot. Turning right, he made towards the town's inner workings. He scowled as he looked around, still annoyed with Mabel's words. She loved to rub it in; how much of a difference the two had in their physical ability. Dipper remembered that she always had more energy than him physically, but the difference in scale was growing quickly. The idea that she was right cut something fragile inside him. He rolled his eyes, his own thoughts betraying what he knew was true; she was truly talented at the martial art stuff.

He had witnessed her talents as he watched how high she had been able to kick at the Shapeshifter two days ago. Looking back though, he wondered if it had been the Shapeshifter who had done that insane mid-air acrobatic. It didn't matter, he argued to himself, turning down a street that led to the library. If the Shapeshifter could do it, so could she.

Mabel had always been, and always would be, an utter ham. Dipper had joked that was what made her and Waddles so compatible, when the pig had lived with them years ago. It inclined her to brag and boast about the silliest and most ridiculous things, brazenly excited for anything she could flaunt to her brother. He knew that she meant no harm, usually, but it did grate on him.

"I can fight," Dipper told himself as he drove his car to the library spot he used the day prior. He grumped as he turned the car off. "I've fought, and beat, multi-bear! I survived Rumble. I... ugh," he sifted his hands through his hair as he growled. It didn't make sense- he knew perfectly well he could perform just as well as her. He had done so before, when things truly mattered. So why did it annoy him to hear it rubbed in his face like that?

Dipper took a nice, long breath and closed his eyes. These were the kinds of thoughts that had led him to spend nearly an entire weekend, all forty-eight hours, practicing chess until he was certain he would not be beaten for a coming tournament. Truthfully, he didn't lose the match that following Monday, but at the cost of hardly remembering what strategy he used. The fifteen-year-old sitting in his car considered that, maybe, he should monitor his competitive nature.

"Only if she does too," Dipper told himself aloud, as he scanned around for a moment. The spot he was parked in was only permitted for thirty minutes, so he had some time to lay in wait. He wouldn't have wait to for very long, as luck turned out. Dipper looked into his side mirror, and he spotted the same person, with the very same hood on top of his head. "Bingo," Dipper grinned.

He sat in his car, very still, watching the man walk inside the shop casually. His mind raced. He considered calling for back up. As much as his pride would deny it, he had gone into town to avoid the noise and clutter, and had hoped by the time he returned, it all would be cleaned up. The idea that he'd take this guy on his own alone was not really part of his plan. This was a chance. A chance for Dipper to prove his worth. After all, the last time that he and his sister spotted him in the library, the man had run for it. Dipper pondered aloud, "How bad can he be if he just runs for it?"

With a surge of gusto, Dipper nodded to himself in the mirror. "Okay, fighting time, yeah," Dipper breathed heavily, his nerves starting up. "Here we go. He comes out, and I jump him. Just do that punchy stuff that- yeah, or a kick. Maybe just tackle him, and… yeah," Dipper let his mind zoom through scenarios at light speed, unable to come to a steady conclusion as to what to do. His mind settled on nothing, and the minutes passed as he worried about his tactics.

"Just corner him," Dipper told himself, staring at the library's entrance. Finally, after what could have been the entire thirty minutes he was allowed to remain parked, the figure emerged. He appeared livid; his hands were shaking and his mouth was quivering. The man turned away, apparently muttering to himself. Dipper smiled at himself as he was certain the reason the man was so upset was their renting of the books. Dipper switched his car on, and turned it around to follow the man.

The hooded man's pace was slow, and it pained Dipper. He worried that another car would come to rest behind his own, and the whole cover would be blown as it would honk for Dipper to speed up. The stalking teenager could feel a faint trail of sweat building on the back of his neck and hands, staring at the back of the head of the hooded man.

Without warning, the man stopped and stood rigid and upright. In a swerve of panic, Dipper's foot struck the break roughly and the tires squeaked loudly. Dipper swore loudly, aware that if he had once any cover, it was now blown entirely. The man remained standing still, right by the entrance of an alley. Without another motion, the thief turned and walked down it.

Despite the throbbing in his chest, Dipper grinned. "Stupid," Dipper said as he turned the car to park by the entrance, "no where out of this one," he told himself, noticing the tall wooden fence at the end of the alley. Stepping out of his car, he started around the end, aware that each step he took brought him closer to an impending encounter with a potentially dangerous, but fearful, man.

A wooden two-by-four was sitting in a pile of trash by the side of a building. Dipper was confident he had this man trapped, but he would play it safe. Lifting the large wooden stick up, he stepped forward, one well placed step after another. His eyes zipped around, the darkness of the buildings shadows dimming his sense of sight. A corner by the left building came closer, and Dipper rounded it at a distance. There, in the corner, the man in the hood had pressed his back against the wall, facing him.

The thief, his hood lowered, opened his mouth, and gasped for air. He gritted his teeth, and almost looked in pain. After a second gasp for air, he finally said to Dipper, "Where are the books?" the person asked, hoarse and strained. "Where did you take the books?"

Dipper snorted. "You don't get to know that, "Dipper said, his two-by-four readied at his shoulder, "what you're going to do is step out, and come with me. I have some questions that you."

The man held out a hand, palm outward. Dipper readied his makeshift weapon. Yet, the man made no other motion, save for breathing heavily. He seemed to struggle getting a word out. "I... I," the man began, his head trembling. Dipper finally saw the face of the person, and he seemed anything but scared. His lips were twisted in fury, and his brows were furrowed in anger. "I won't answer to someone like you!" he screamed at the top of his lungs.

Dipper took a step back; a mistake that cost him the chance to attack. Something heavy and hard slammed into his gut, and actually lifted him back and into the air, pinning him with its force against the wall behind him. He gasped for air and looked down. A glowing broken metal pipe floated evenly in the air, holding him in place as he struggled for breath. He looked back to the man, who's hood had fallen behind his head.

The blonde man held a hand forward, apparently controlling the position of the glowing metal pipe. His eyes were wide and his mouth fell open, and he began to smile wickedly, laughing manically.

His mouthed moved first, but he hissed. Then, he tried once more and managed to say, "Oh, how has the mighty fallen!" the man stated cruelly, his eyes watering from some unseen pain, "I think that you had a great idea," the blond thief stepped forward towards Dipper. He bent lower, still keeping his one hand forward and open, pinning Dipper to the wall as he struggled for breath and freedom. The man lifted up the fallen two-by-four with his free hand, and gave it a strong grip.

After another pained gasp for air, the thief said, "You see, I've – oh," the man suddenly found himself struggling to grip the two-by-four, "that's a bit heavier than – ach," the man tried giving the two-by-four a swing through the air, rather meekly "Man! This is heavy!" He noticed Dipper staring at him with an unimpressed glare. The thief snarled, and after swallowing deeply, he said with bitterness pouring from him like a miasma, "You lack a certain... umph."

The thief made his powerful swing. Dipper flinched and cried out, unable to defend himself at all. There was a clunk aside the wall next to him. Dipper opened his eyes slowly. The man had missed Dipper's head entirely, having the blunt object bounce off the wall.

"Oh, come on!" the man growled in a stinging voice, and tried again. He was entirely limited to his one hand, and seemed to lack the strength to finely maneuver it. Dipper, despite being pinned to the wall, watched incredulously as the man was unable to properly swing around a stick made out of wood. The thief snarled "How do you work these things?!"

Dipper couldn't even take him seriously, watching him fail again and again to attack a pinned down teenager against a wall. It was almost pathetic. "You try turning it off and on again?" Dipper managed to gasp.

The man, stunned at Dipper's comment, tossed aside the blunt wooden object with a growl. "How about I turn you off and on again, huh?" the man growled, and with a swipe of his hand, motioned the metal pipe away.

Dipper chuckled with what little air he had, "That's what she sai- Gah!" Dipper fell forward, gasping for air as his lungs finally expanded again after a near solid minute of little oxygen.

The thief rolled his eyes. "Teenagers," the man said lazily as he whipped with his enchanting hand. The floating pipe swung itself against Dipper's head with a loud, dull clang. The twin had little time to react, and after a dense pain rang through his skull, his eyes fluttered shut and he fell into darkness.

---

Mabel sat on her bed, tossing the blue special battery into the air with a twirl. It had been two hours since she had called Dipper, nearing three. She was growing anxious. Dipper was many things; over analytical, melodramatic, and a smarty pants, but late? He was never late.

"C'mon bro," she craned her head out the window, looking down the driveway. It had been a while since Candy and Grenda had left happily, excited at the prospect at more chances to catch up like they had before. Mabel had been excited too, but their departure meant he had been late. A late Dipper made a nervous Mabel.

She bounced herself off the bed and grasped the remaining battery on the desk. Evidence in hand, Mabel marched out of the room. She quickly stomped down the stairs as she headed towards the deck. Mabel passed Wendy without a word, who had only just returned from whatever task she had set out to do earlier that morning. Mabel didn't notice the redheads spirited hello, instead sullenly walking out, moving to the worn wooden bench outside.

She slouched forward, resting her chin on a supporting hand. Mabel held that crazy blue battery ahead, peering deep within its mystic glow. Her mind poured over the possibilities. Aliens, faeries, futuristic weaponry, a tool from the future itself, even a kind of god-seed popped into her head. A sigh escaped her lips and she let her hand fall aside, and she fell back against the seat. Dipper always had better ideas about those sorts of things.

Mabel was not good at holding feelings in. Her emotions hit hard, hit true, and she never held them back. It was difficult, sitting there, when her mind and heart kept feeling that Dipper was in trouble. Yet, for all she knew, he was just being a jerk; taking his time to prove a point or something along those lines. She re-centered herself, and took a deep breath, as someone important to her often instructed her. That moment of clarity brought back memories, recent and fresh.

Sometime ago, her teacher of the paths had asked her, "You want to know why can't find balance?"

"Of course I do!" Mabel had responded, frustrated and tired at her lack of improvement.

"Well Mabel," her teacher had graced her to use her first name in training, a privilege apparently not given to many, "I hate to let you down here, but this isn't a quick answer, and it's also one I can't tell you."

"Whaaat?!" Mabel had cried loud, plopping on the sparring mat with trembling lips, "but... does that mean I'm done? Have I failed this test? Is this a test?!" Mabel continued to asked in growing panic.

"Mabel, no! Relax," her teacher had sat in front of her as well, suppressing her own laughter, "What that means is you have reached a point now where you need to begin to ask yourself a serious question."

"A question? A question to answer a question?" Mabel remembered asking, "that sounds dumb." She had received a quick bop on her head for the smart comment.

"Mabel," her teacher had continued, a steady, truthful voice calling to even as she sat down on the worn wooden bench by the Mystery Manor, "you need to know what it is you really, really seek through The Paths. You need to know what you want."

Remembering that moment brought her back to her seat outside, on the front porch. "What I want," Mabel said aloud as she looked down the dirt road before her feet. For good measure, she repeated, "what I want."

Her eyes focused back on the world around her. Mabel pushed herself from the old, worn, wooden seat. She approached the grass to the side of the road. There was a particularly nice spot near the woods she spotted. With a satisfied sigh, she dropped herself to sit cross-legged on the ground. She closed her eyes, and took a deep breath.

"What I want," she sighed slowly, letting the breath flow from her lips. This was, above everything else she had ever learned in her study of The Paths, the hardest for her. Meditation; to sit quietly and mutter to herself a supposedly fundamental part of her life until she received an answer was beyond difficult. Her mind, hyperactive as it was, would glance off her thoughts and consider something else, usually unrelated.

She loved that about herself. It made putting together projects, and essays, and all sorts of collective assignments for school that much more exciting. She would end up knowing more than even the assignment called for. Granted, her father enjoyed pointing out that her understanding of these things was mostly unimportant. She had discovered the trouser sizes of President Lincoln and his cabinet before knowing their important dates and accomplishments during the civil war.

She grimaced and groaned angrily. She had done it again; the thoughts trailing along to past projects and her own past. She rubbed her temple, wondering if there was ever any hope for herself. Amazing as she was in the physical aspects, meditation and patience was a struggle. Maybe, if she ever got good at this last part, she could move on with her training. If Dipper thought the idea of The Paths was cool now, wait until she got really good.

A voice called out. "Mabel?" the voice of Soos echoed from the side of the building behind Mabel.

"Hi Soos," she called behind her, not standing to face him, remaining seated.

"Oh, whoa, what are you doing?" Soos asked as he approached her, his tool belt jostling its inhabitants.

"I'm doing ninja stuff," Mabel said mystically. Then, for clarity, "Meditation, Soos. I'm meditating."

"Whoa, for real? Hambone, that sounds sweet," Soos said excitedly as he rounded her, walking to be in front of her. "So you, what, just sit down and hum a lot?"

"No, silly," Mabel told him as she looked up, "you think upon the ancient and deep philosophical question –"

"The meaning of life?!" Soos quickly blurted out, "oh dude, you have no idea how often I have that float through my head, you know. Like, at least six times a day."

"Not that one," Mabel corrected her friend, "but instead, 'what do you want'?"

"What do I want?" Soos repeated. He nodded, stroking his chin as he contemplated, and eventually came to sit next to Mabel. "Oh man, you weren't kidding," he said as he squirmed in place, "this one is a toughie. Can I say... a good sandwich?"

Mabel peeked an eye at him. "Soos, this has to be fo' serious-ness," Mabel explained seriously, "The Paths is an ancie – wait, it's not ancient at all. But it is a study of ourselves! And stuff. And if we want to know us, we should know what we want, right?"

Soos' eyes glimmered with awe. "Wow. Okay, I'm so doing this with you. How do I start?" Soos asked excitedly, putting his legs in crisscross pattern.

"You sit like that, nice and upright," Mabel informed him, "and then you think about what you really want. In life? I think?" Mabel had to guess, as the entire question itself was so open ended and vague that she still struggled to understand it.

"Right. Here we go, thinking time," Soos nodded to himself, twisting his hat around, "Soos the thinker is here to stay. Stay awhile for thinkin'," he said, and fell quiet. Mabel smiled and peered at him for a moment, and let her own eyes close, trying to ponder on her own needs from her study of the Paths. Soos muttered, "Thiiiinkiiiing,", catching Mabel off guard, who popped open an eyelid to glance at him. He continued, "Think, think, think," Soos continued as his pitch grew higher.

Mabel fell from her readied position to watch him grow puffy red in the face. She informed him, "Soos, you can breathe you know."

Soos gasped and heaved loudly, "Oh man! I was beginning to think that this thing was impossible! Ha!" Soos chuckled at his mistake, "so, was I doing it right?"

"Uh... try doing that 'thinking thing' inside your head, you know?" Mabel tried being gentle with Soos, who nodded again with excitement. The man-child was clearly eager to learn something mysterious and cool. Mabel, with a moment hesitation to check with Soos, readied herself and once again let her mind drift on that same thought.

Soos then began to hum. This wasn't a problem at first, as he held on level note while he sat there. Eventually it changed- it became a mild and slow beat, and he wasn't terribly on key with the tune: a theme from a television show. Mabel couldn't believe herself as she realized something about herself she never had before: it was hard to be silent and thoughtful while someone nearby was making noise. She opened her eyes and stared at Soos, who continued to hum.

Mabel sighed and scratched her scalp as she listened, finally looking to her friend. "Soos, it's best to be, you know, silent," Mabel finally piped up.

"Oh! Whoops, I guess I blew it again, didn't I? Sorry dude," Soos chuckled as he rubbed the back of the neck. "You know, this sort of thing sure is difficult."

"You're telling me," Mabel sighed. Perhaps it was her own inflections to her inability to meditate that got the better of her, because Soos blinked and looked disheartened.

"Oh. I'm sorry Mabel," Soos said, removing his hat and twisting it nervously.

She whipped her head and stared at him. "Huh? It's okay, Soos," She said assumingly.

"Well, you know, you're trying hard for this stuff, and here I am doing the theme of Afternoon Rider. I'm a total distraction, aren't I?" Soos had beaten himself up quickly, and Mabel hated it. She grasped his shoulder, and leant him closer.

"Soos, my bud," she said firmly, "don't even beat yourself up like that. It's not so hard to focus on… what you want while people make noise…" Mabel looked away, suddenly realizing the reason why a creeping warmth fluttered into her face. It was a realizing guilt that reminded her of the previous night.

'Somewhere quieter, I guess,' Dipper's voice echoed in her mind. Crestfallen, Mabel rubbed her shoulder, trying to massage away some of the shame.

Soos brought her back to the moment. "But I am a distraction, aren't I?" he worriedly asked her.

Mabel shook her head. "Soos, you know, if I was doing this right, it wouldn't even bother me. You could be signing your best, and I'd just be able to do this like it's nothing," Mabel admitted solemnly, "that's the idea behind this sort of thing- like you sort of lock down and just focus on thinking and stuff."

"Oh... so you're the one at fault for being distracted?" Soos asked, puzzled at the turn-about, "that doesn't seem right."

Mabel shrugged. "Sort of. I mean, Soos, you have to be quiet, but still, I shouldn't be getting distracted with you if I was really doing this right," Mabel admitted, "like my master. She can do it even when she lives in the city – windows open and everything! Car horns going off and people yelling like jerks; it doesn't bother her one bit!"

"Wow. She sounds like a swell lady," Soos admitted with awe.

"She is my master and teacher," Mabel reminded Soos with a grin, "she usually says that meditating on stuff helps clear your head."

"Something bugging you, then?" Soos questioned her.

Mabel pouted as she played with a strand of grass before her. Sure, there were things bothering her. Dipper was late, and it made her nervous, but there was more. Soos having a seat next to her and demonstrating the pain of constant distraction was a punch to Mabel's guts. Dipper found such attachment to mystery and his drive to solve them. Mabel had found that same kind of drive in herself to become an absolute badass. When he found roadblocks, he always was rounding on Mabel for speaking her mind and talking out loud. Was, Mabel had the dreadful consideration, she doing the same to her brother as Soos had done to her?

Turning back to Soos, she decided to tackle one emotional turmoil at a time. "It's Dipper," Mabel sighed, holding up the blue battery for the two the view, "he said on the phone he'd be here in an hour. Like, three hours ago. The jerk is going to be all mad if I go check on him, but I'm mad at myself for not making sure he's okay."

Soos nodded, studying the battery. "Three hours is a while. But," Soos added to Dipper's defense, "Private investigations are a timely and day-consuming process. One must always be ready for anything, including delays."

Mabel sighed and nodded, and gave the blue battery a nice toss in the air, having it spin around rapidly. As it landed in Mabel's hand, she felt a white-hot heat and she yelped loudly. It dropped to the ground before the two of them. White sparks jolted out. She and Soos leaned away, staring at the object as it sprayed motes of electrical energy. Suddenly it was humming loudly; the light emanating from it brighter and more solid.

Then, from the ground before them, an unfamiliar voice buzzed out. " –And to think, some little punk could get in my way," a pained voice stated from the cylinder. Soos and Mabel stared at the object, their eyes wide as they turned their ears in attention.

"Where... where am I?" a much more familiar voice called through the cylinder, and Mabel gasped. That was absolutely Dipper who was speaking. Dipper's voice demanded, "What did you do to me?"

"Just a bump on the head, kid," the other voice stated," the same kind you would have given me, I'm sure."

"Dude, let me go," Dipper's voice demanded from the cylinder. Mabel stared at the object. It had somehow become a kind of radio-transmitter, communicating events from a distant place.

"Oh, right. The kid tied up, bleeding from the head, totally and utterly out of control here demands to be let go. Nice try, 'hero'," the other voice grew louder, as if he was approaching the source of recording.

"Oh no!" Mabel squeaked in almost a whisper, the feeling in her body becoming faint and distant. Worry had plagued her for hours, and there had been a few things that could have calmed those concerns. Hearing that her brother was tied up, bleeding, and 'utterly out of control' were not the things to calm her down! Dipper's captive, to worsen things, seemed pleased with the situation, lavishing his power. He was pleased to have captured Dipper. It was as if she could feel a horrible grin speaking these words. Mabel tried speaking, but Soos quieted her, pointing on the glowing battery.

Dipper's voice grunted, perhaps prodded. "What are you doing here? What's with all the crazy books anyway?" Dipper's voice demanded, and the other laughed. "That's... not particularly funny."

"It is, though! I don't even fully know what it is I'm doing here," the man answered, humor in his voice, "I'm just checking up on a lead."

"What? A lead?" Dipper's voice repeated.

"Yeah. Something of a notification I was made aware of, and I need to check up on it. You and that other one, the girl," the voice accused Dipper, "should have known better to come back looking for me. You even saw the k-kinds of material I was researching. Yet, you made the wisest decision to... come back?" the voice laughed again.

"They'll come for me soon," Dipper informed him strongly, "and we're going to have a heck of an interrogation for you."

"Yes," the voice cooed dangerously, and there was a rushing sound and Dipper grunted loudly and coughed a few times. Mabel realized Dipper had been punched, and her chest boiled in rage. The other voice said, "I'm trembling. Absolutely scared for my life. They'll know exactly how to open the hidden gate next to the Garbage Dump. That's, after all, just common knowledge to look for a little glowing orange button cleverly hidden under a fake banana peel, isn't it?"

After coughing once more, Dipper snapped back with, "You don't have to be a dick about it, you know."

Mabel was furious that some scrawny punk was getting the best of her brother. She was terrified that Dipper could be really hurt. She couldn't help herself. She cried out, "We have to save him! He could be torturing him!"

Soos nodded. "Dang right we do!" Soos agreed," let me get a baseball b-"

The other voice from the glowing cylinder yelled, "Who's there?!" a voice bellowed from the cylinder, "Who are you? Reveal yourself!" Mabel and Soos slammed their mouths shut. They hadn't anticipated that the Cylinder could have been a two-way communicator. The voice grew loud, presumably approaching dipper. "Who was that!? One of them sounded familiar!" the voice supposedly accused Dipper.

There was a small pause. Then, Dipper said, "What voices?" sounding amused. This resulted in a loud whack and Dipper gasped, sighing in pain. Dipper added, "You must be hearing things."

The other person snapped, "This is something you're doing! How're you doing this?!" the frantic voice demanded before yelling.

Whatever the captor was saying began to fade. Mabel shook her head as she watched the bright light of the cylinder fade back to it's normal levels, and the voices all faded. The two were left sitting their staring with wide horrified eyes.

Soos stood up. "Oh man... Dipper's in trouble!" Soos managed to state aloud, worry pouring through his voice.

Mabel remained still, all the energy being siphoned into her mind. She felt a sickening weight deep within herself, a dark and horrible ball of condense fear. She sat there, fearing the kind of harm that could befall her brother. She couldn't let him be hurt, she refused to. A spark had ignited the horrible fear, and she stood, her fists clenched.

"I'm going to save him," She told Soos, "you coming, Soos?"

Soos stiffed his upper lip. "I won't leave my buddy to some crazy dude," Soos nodded and stood up as well.

"It's Dipper-rescuing time," Mabel announced, and turned for the door. She and the larger man knew exactly what was needed. She turned and ran back through the gift shop, stunning the reading redhead by the counter.

Eying the two in their march, Wendy asked a meager, "Wha?" Mabel was stomping towards the door, keys in her hands.

Soos had also grabbed his backpack and toolkit, and turned with Mabel to leave. "Off to rescue Dipper!" Soos informed Wendy.

At the mention of Dipper in need of such actions, she whipped her feet around and stood up, clearly ready to help. Wendy asked, "Where?" quickly displaying her readiness.

Mabel stopped for the redhead. "Somewhere in town," Mabel told her, "by the garbage dump."

Wendy paused, and looked around. There was some unseen thought racing in her eyes. Mabel was sure of what she saw- the redhead had seemed nervous, her eyes loosing focus at the mention of town. After that split second hesitation, she nodded at Mabel. Wendy reached for her bike helmet with vigor.

"What's got him?" Wendy demanded.

Mabel explained as she marched for the front door, "A weirdo person. We caught him trying to steal books that have old spells in them yesterday."

Wendy nodded. "Right, then lets-"

From deeper within the building, Stan called out. "Hey, Wendy! You seen Soos? I need you two for pulling out the super-rusted nails under the new staircase. You there?" Grunkle Stan called.

Wendy turned to the sound, and peered to the source. "Dangit," she grumbled. She whipped back to Soos and Mabel, "Last thing we need is for him to freak out too," she told them, and then shook her head, "You two go. I'll make up a story for you Soos. Just be safe, and make sure he's okay," Wendy told her friend and co-worker.

"You got it!" Soos proudly said. After a jab from Mabel's elbow, he corrected himself to a whisper, "Oh, you got it."

---

Dipper watched his captor pace. That man had been staring at Dipper in return. Since the voices of Mabel and Soos popped out of no-where, the man had not taken his eyes away from Dipper. He had also stopped his occasional beatings, looking uncertain to approach Dipper. That was, to Dipper's credit, a stroke of good work on his part; warning him he may or may not have means to contact others.

In truth, he had no idea as to what really those sounds had been. They were certainly Mabels gasp, and he was sure the other sounded like Soos. How did they get in here? And if they were in here, why didn't they rescue him? This hadn't sounded like a phone on speakers, but a distant but loud conversation happening in the vicinity; like they had been nearby. Dipper decided it best to mind these uncertainties internally.

"Look dude," Dipper started again, sighing at a particularly contemptible glare from the older man, "why don't you just tell me what's going on? This could be a big miscommunication, for all we know."

The man raised his eyebrows, and chuckled. A look from this guy was all Dipper needed to know. There wasn't going to be any attempts at reconciliation.

As the thief turned away from him, Dipper cursed under his. It had been a lie. Dipper had only known him for an hour, and quickly came to the conclusion that he wasn't good for anyone. Looking around in his pool of light, Dipper could see collections of melting candles around him and what appeared to be neatly organized piles of small clay bowls. Dipper was on a rock of some sort, entirely tied up and unable to budge. He could only lean forward slightly. The bindings were tight enough that he was certain he couldn't break free without noticeable struggle. As he tried to make out more around him, he could make out was the faint sound of water in the distance.

Left in the dark, save for the candles, Dipper shook some hair out from his eyes. Desperate to understand his situation, Dipper let his nervous anger grant him bravery. "What do you want with me?" Dipper tried again heatedly.

The thief called back from the darkness. "Originally, nothing," the voice echoed past the line of darkness that surrounded Dipper. Dipper could swear that he was gasping at the end of his sentences. The thief hissed a little more before adding, "But having you here is rather fortunate. You just poked your nose into the wrong business – probably for the last time."

Dipper swallowed. The man's voice, like it had been when not desperately angry or aggressive, presented a man of business. It was as if he had this type of conversation on a daily basis, speaking to people desperate for answers and freedom while he did whatever he was planning.

"Speaking of which," the man uttered, and his steps grew closer and louder. The man once again appeared into the light. Hands reached forward and tightly grasped Dipper's shoulders, pulling him up and away from the light. His legs were bound just loosely enough for him to shuffle along with the mild push that the man gave, now behind him.

Out of the cascading light, Dipper finally could see around him. The surroundings were impressive; a sprawling cavern deep in the earth, strewn with subterranean wires and several pieces of furniture. On a makeshift desk, papers and pens were meticulously, neatly organized. There was a collection of crates with strange materials poking out, ranging from jars of eyeballs to a mummified leg of something similar to a cow. Above him, water dripped from stalactites, splashing into the large body of water before them.

The patch of dry earth they stood upon overlooked a drop of nearly fifteen feet to an underground pond, roughly a hundred feet or so in diameter. Dipper wondered what the sound of rushing water he could hear originated from, and to his far left were a series of open drainage pipes. One in particular opened up at waist height, and was easily wide enough for someone to fall through.

The thief turned, following Dipper's eyes. He then grinned with a cruel satisfaction. After he inhaled sharply, he told Dipper, "For the bodies. It leads out to the lake, and I have yet had anyone notice people missing."

Dipper breathed quickly. "You – you've hurt people!?" Dipper tried rounding on the man, but was thrown down at the first struggle he gave. Wincing from the slam on his back, Dipper then felt something strike his chin sharply. He groaned, looking back up at the man above him.

The thief rolled his eyes, retracting the hand he struck out with. "Get up" the man said as he waved the hand around for air, "I could kick all day, you know," the man told him bitterly. Dipper started standing back up, and the second he was on his feet, the same rough hands grabbed the collar of his vest and pulled him close to the edge of the water. A stone surface, presumably a former stalagmite cut to resemble a blocky table, was where Dipper was pushed to.

The thief snarled as he winced before speaking. "Stay put, or I'll toss you into the water. Looks pretty deep, doesn't it?" The man warned with his nasty grin. As Dipper stared hatefully back, the man spun, and started collecting books and materials. Dipper watched at first, and then he noticed the block of rock he was atop wasn't smooth. It had divots and engravings on the surface that made some sort of pattern. He couldn't see the entire thing, but he was starting to wonder if he was laying on top of a pentagram.

"What is this? A glyph?" Dipper snapped. "You... are you a Satanist or something!?" Dipper demanded.

The man burst out laughing. "Satanists aren't the only ones who use pentagrams," the man uttered with amusement, "Pegans, Wiccans, Druids- pretty much half the cults of the world use the pentagram. Good eye, though, but bad guess."

"Just what are you supposed to be then? What do you want?" Dipper yelled at him in defiance, feeling the bite of the binds on his limbs.

The man's amused stare faltered, and he looked to Dipper with an almost considering stare. After swallowing loudly, he glared at Dipper and said, "One word, kid. Power. I'm looking for power."

"Why?! Why does every nut-job want to become a crazy ruler of the world or whatever," Dipper said aside, shaking his head in the realization that he was dealing with another person fixated with domineering people. His thoughts were cut short though, as the man chuckled.

The Thief spat before saying, "I don't care about ruling people, you fool. I want real control."

Dipper stared at him. "Fool? Really, dude," Dipper retorted to the guy, "this isn't the Renaissance fair. You don't use 'fool' when you're trying to be scary."

"Shut up!" the thief yelled, "no one gets to tell me what to do! Not you, not cops, not any lame spell-crafter."

"Spellcraft?" Dipper repeated. His mind raced through those spells that he had remembered reading through. A discover grew in his mind as he considered the books here and the tidy nature of the one study area. "You," Dipper realized, "you're a wizard or something, aren't you?"

The man laughed, and shook his head. "Wizard? No. I'm not a pretty little book writer," the man started," I'm an applier of the arcane."

"Uh, sure, whatever dude, whatever you think is cool," Dipper rolled his eyes at the vague answer.

The thief snarled, and clenched his jaw before speaking. "I'm a warlock, punk," The man stated with a spray of spit at Dippers direction.

Dipper blinked. "Warlock?" Dipper said more to himself than to his captor.

"You're not deaf, right?" the warlock teased meanly, continuing to collect more material.

In his mind's eye, Dipper flipped the pages of Grunkle Ford's journal in his mind. He desperately combed for the term 'warlock'. He wondered if Grunkle Ford's journals had anything at all to relate to this man. As panic rose, Dipper reminded himself that the journal was far away, safe in the Mystery Manor. Though it was from various fictional sources, Dipper pieced together what he knew of the term warlock.

They were often thought of as male witches. They were a type of person who associated with magic and spells, and that, to his personal knowledge in games like 'Strongholds and Serpents', warlocks were magic casters who dealt with dangerous kinds of magic. This thief had already shown he can levitate and use objects with a motion of his hands, and it easily had pinned Dipper to the wall in mid air.

Better to play underhanded than laying the cards down, Dipper decided to play him like a fool. Making the best out of his lack of knowledge, Dipper decided to ask, "What's the difference between a warlock and a wizard, exactly?"

The man groaned, heaving his head up to glare at the ceiling. "What's it to you?" the warlock asked, standing up to stare at Dipper, having been bent over a collection of material. Dipper merely shrugged. After a pause, the magic user relented. He explained "It's all about what we want."

"What you want?" Dipper repeated.

The thief waved a hand through the air dismissively. "A wizard is a scientist of the arcane. They invent and study the forces of magic, arcana. Warlocks are a little more... practical," the warlock added with a small grin, and Dipper looked to him with confusion. The man rolled his eyes, and after clenching his mouth shut, he said, "It means we want to mess some faces up with this stuff."

Dipper scoffed. "Magical bullies," Dipper said to himself, entirely unimpressed with how it sounded, "You really thought that learning magic and curses was a better answer than working out and punching people? Man, and I thought I had a hard time gaining muscle."

Amused by Dipper's taunt, the thief, this warlock, chortled. "Speaking of muscles," the Warlock said, bringing over his collection to Dipper, who lifted his head to keep an eye on him, "I'll be needing one of yours for a bit. It doesn't matter which, really. Say, what do you think about blood? Does it make you feel faint?"

"What!?" Dipper gasped, as the man quickly pushed Dipper slightly aside, lifting his arm up. Without another warning, Dipper felt a quick white hot gash across his forearm, and he shouted. The warlock had just cut into his arm, and he could feel blood trickling down his side. "God! Agh!" Dipper gasped as the injury took its effect on him. Dipper wouldn't let himself appear any weaker than he already was, and he buried his pain deep in his mind. He wouldn't faint, not now. He had to focus.

Dipper glared at the assailant. The Warlock's own eyes started the injury on Dipper's arm. He seemed fixated on the spot of harm, his already pale face growing even whiter. He gulped, and mumbled under his breath, "Ah... okay. J-just collect the blood. Juuust collect it, remember to breathe, okay," the warlock told himself said as he timidly raised the bowl to Dipper's cut arm, letting the warm blood drip in. The unnamed warlock then looked to Dipper. When he spotted Dipper's defiance, he almost flinched. "What?" The Warlock asked Dipper.

"I think you're more freaked out about this than I am," Dipper spat back, furious and scared that this man had taken to cutting him while tied up.

Grunting as he stood up straight, the Warlock stuttered. "I- well- at least I'm not all in a bind! Ha! I like that," the warlock laughed forcefully, quickly turning and lifting a bowl from the altar, "that was a good joke."

"Screw you," Dipper growled as the man walked away to a table, bringing his supplies and fresh blood with him. Dipper could still feel the blood running down his arm. The cut wasn't deep, but with enough time he could become faint. Dipper looked to his arm, and the retreating man. "That's all you're going to do?" Dipper asked after a moment, and the warlock not turning to face him.

"For now," the warlock stated, "I may need more of your blood later," he announced, turning to point the knife at Dipper, and he growled as tears welled in his face. Fighting himself to get the words out, he added, "Just don't go and bleed out and die on me, would you p-please?"

Dipper growled loudly, hating the lack of care this person had for anything other than himself. Only a few days back at Gravity Falls, and Dipper had found someone nearing evil. Dipper could only visualize the amount of hurt he wanted to put on this man. Give him a taste of his own medicine.

Being tied to the flat object, Dipper could do little in terms of vengeance. His eyes remained fixed on the other man. He watched as the Warlock began to pull together a list of ingredients. A larger bowl was laid before him, and he began to pour ingredients in, including Dipper's blood. The man was muttering words as he stirred, a language Dipper could not understand. It sounded harsh and quick, an almost northern European sounding dialect.

Dipper's focus suddenly waned. His breathing became heavy. He felt light headed. The back of his shirt and his rear were all soaked in his own blood, having trickled down as time passed. His eyes remained focused, staring at the man who was still working on the bowl before him. Dipper, in the meantime, attempted to wriggle out of the ropes while the man was distracted.

Focus. He had to stay awake. Focus!

He wondered what had happened earlier. He knew that he had heard Mabel and Soos' voices, but he couldn't figure out how, or why. Looking around, he noticed the abundance of open pipes on the ceiling and the various walls, even an opening far off that must lead to the surface. None of them seemed feasible for someone to be lurking around, watching the two of them. Had Mabel and Soos been nearby, they would have tried to get him up and out already.

Dipper then spotted, in his backpack, just sticking out from one of the pockets, the small blue cylinder. It gave off that faint little white light as usual, humming gently in the darkness. His mind pondered; could it have been that? Maybe it was some strange communication device of sorts? He hadn't noticed any kind of way to operate it- no buttons or knobs rested on its surface, so he hadn't considered anything other than a type of container.

"Finally," a voice called from the ritual table that the warlock stood by. Dipper turned to the man and realized something important had happened. A dim orange light was shining from the bowl, illuminating the warlocks face. His face was stretched with a horrible grin, grim excitement at his operant accomplishment. "Time to find that power, and get this all over with."

The warlock lifted the bowl up, and poured the liquid material into a small pewter colored cup. to Dipper's disgust, he lifted the glass and drained the entire contents, including his blood with a single drink. Dipper groaned, and watched in horror, uncertain to the spells intended effects.

The warlock placed the glass back down, gasping loudly. He clutched his mouth, his eyes bulging. Even from his distance, Dipper could tell this man appeared sick- sweat started falling from him and burped loudly, and gagged.

The Warlock shook his face like a dog. His eyes filled with tears, he quietly mumbled, "Ugh. That was horrible." He looked to his hands. Nothing was happening. The warlock turned around, looking at the bowl in confusion. "So, what do I do? Is there a poem I say, or– "

Without warning, he gasped, and a blast of wind and light shook the cave. The warlock began to float mid-air, his eyes glowing with the same orange light that the bowl had, but it shone out like a search light. His entire body radiated that same color, and he stared blankly above him.

Dipper had flinched from the wave of energy. "Holy..." Dipper began, uncertain as to what would happen next. He felt a twinge of shame. This kind of event was exactly on the opposite to what he had hoped would happen during this investigation, and he was partially to blame.

To Dipper's astonishment, he was able to peer past the glowing light of the levitating Warlock, and see to the cavern entrance. Two heads had just popped out, and looked towards the Warlock. A larger man looked in, and a long brown-haired girl stared in bewilderment.

Dipper felt faint again, but not from pain. "Guys!" Dipper tried calling to them, trying to minimize his desire to shout them over to him. Mabel quickly spotted him, and motioned to Soos Dipper's location. The two rushed out from the entrance. They passed by the floating man, who seemed otherwise entirely preoccupied. After getting some distance from the floating man, Mabel dashed to her brother.

"Dipper!" Mabel whispered anxiously as they ran to him, and she noticed the red liquid behind him, "Oh my god! Your arm!" she held a hand to her mouth.

"It's just blood, nobody panic," Dipper told her, trying to calm her quickly. Her eyes had already began to shimmer with tears. He pleaded to them, "Just get me out and we can stop that maniac!"

"Hold on a sec bud," Soos told him, retrieving a small pair of shears, and began to remove each of the ropes on Dipper, "We need to wrap up that arm of yours. It's still bleeding a little there."

Dipper shook his head. "After we get that guy!" Dipper hissed and pointed to the floating warlock, "he's freaking crazy!"

Mabel, running her hands over his shoulders and head, let out a pained whine. "Who's more important?" Mabel yelled at Dipper, who blinked and recoiled from her burst, "Jerk-face over there, or you!?"

Dipper studied his sister face closely. Her mouth quivered as she stared back, a whole mess of emotions racing through her head. Dipper couldn't help but let the weight of responsibility crash down onto him. It was his fault for not coming back when they wanted him to, and he approached the Warlock alone. Not only was he hurt, his sister was being torn up about it.

There was a deep, bass-y boom. Wind whirled through the air as the floating man dropped suddenly, his orange glow fading away. He let out a pained groan. "Gah!" the thief snapped. The three whipped their heads to face the now standing man. The warlock clutched his head, grumbling at first. Then he turned from them, and shouted, slamming his fists on the makeshift desk, scattering the remaining contents to the floor. "That's impossible! That has to be impossible! How could there be so many high level energy signatures!? What could have such an output to cloud my targeting abilities, and still move about like – like a..."

The warlock stalled. His rant had been more than loud enough to mask other noises. Noises, like, Soos and Mabel untethering Dipper from his binds. That was until the end of the warlock's rant, when he began to think more and speak less. Dipper had let off one loud, pained sigh as he got back to his feet. It had been loud enough for the warlock to slowly turn, his eyes wide, towards him. The three saw the thief. His eyes, to their surprise, were filled with falling tears. However, there was no sadness or pain in his gaze: only a pained fury.

The Warlock wiped his eyes, and stared at Soos and Mabel. He blinked, not entirely sure he was seeing well. He even looked back to his empty bowl, and scratched his eyebrows.

After wincing, he asked, "Are… are you real?" he asked to the three.

Soos scratched his chin. "I think a more interesting question is 'what is real, if anything'?" Soos riposted cleverly. Mabel and Dipper turned and looked at Soos incredulously. The warlock blinked, and his expression went from confusion to rage so quickly it could have been missed with a single blink of the eye. Soos gulped, and added, "Oh, wrong answer. Shoot!"

The warlock made his move. Taking the same dagger he had used to cut Dipper, he held it in his left hand, and it glowed – a strange series of runes appearing along its surface. The knife then levitated, and Dipper shouted, "Watch out!"

Soos dived out of the way just in time, throwing himself flat on the ground to avoid the flying dagger. Mabel had dived over her brother, shielding him from any potential harm. The flying dagger soared like an arrow and struck a stalactite. The knife didn't survive the failed attack, splitting it into pieces against the hard stone. As soon as the dagger had fallen away, no longer glowing, Mabel tugged and pulled Dipper down and behind the table. She clearly hoped to provide him some cover.

Dipper patted her arms. "I'm fine!" Dipper told her, and shook his head towards the warlock, "Get him!"

Mabel turned her gaze towards the man, who was busy shuffling through a bag, pulling out a long metal chain. She nodded to her brother and stood. Soos was pushing himself off the ground as the two faced the warlock.

The warlock chuckled, eying them the way a cruel child would to ants at his feet. His hands were busy running over the length of the chain. The same runes appeared along them, and he grasped them with a firm grip. The chains began to writhe and twist like snakes. Mabel paused her charge, watching the newly animated weapon.

With a roar, the man threw his hands forward. The chains eagerly sprung outwards. Mabel was quick to dodge to her left, and then run forward, low and under under the attack. Soos, on the other hand, was not so fortunate. The chains slammed into him and he was thrown back. He hit a large stalagmite, and the chains quickly made work to wrap themselves around him, tying him hard against the rock.

Spotting his danger, Mabel skidded to a halt. "Soos!" Mabel cried as she turned to check on her older friend. She scowled and looked back to the enemy. "You let my friend go!" Mabel shouted as she leapt up, and kicked at the man. He stepped back hastily, wearily looking at Mabel.

Actively crying and snarling, the warlock gasped. His eyes widened as he watched Mabel. "You're the one – I heard your voice," the warlock angrily accused her, "And you're the one who kept up with me at the library!"

Mabel leapt at him again as he avoided her once more. "Are you the one who hurt my brother?" she demanded, filled with an anger that almost took her by surprise. There was no joke within her voice, not thought of pleasantry. If someone was going to mess with her brother, she would have a few things to say about it.

Wiping his cheeks from tears, he snickered. "Maybe?" he stated slyly, "Maybe not. He's sort of useless, you know. Maybe he just slipped while I dragged him–"

Mabel was done, absolutely done listening to him. Few people had so quickly lost Mabel's wondrously large patience. Today, this man made it on the list of 'no friend, only punch'. She ran at him again and made to kick at him. Mid-momentum, she caught herself and lifted upwards in a jump. Impressively high for her height, she whirled in midair; letting her land her foot near his head. He raised an arm to block, and was knocked aside and off his feet. As he stumbled away, gasping, Mabel smirked. Another person had, once again, underestimated her severely.

The warlock was quick to scramble back to his feet. He motioned his hand above his head. A light ring hummed from elsewhere in the cave, and a new dagger flew into his hands once again. Mabel let her reflexes do their work; leaping back as the warlock swung down with the clean dagger. After his first miss he wasn't swayed. He lunged at her, slashing and cutting at her as she stepped away. She fought to dodge each swipe, watching and anticipating his attacks.

Her mind was a buzz of thoughts and worries and fears, all jumbled together. It was as if each time she had the chance to perfectly lock down on this jerk-wad of a guy, she would spot Dipper, barely moving, or Soos trying to pull himself free from his knot. The warlock, on top of it all, was desperately ferocious in his attacks: never relenting, never retreating, and never restraining.

She realized something about his fighting: it was horrible. He was relying on his blade to be scary, and his magic to keep back the others. Mabel then smirked. She moved clearly one direction, and then feinted to the other. He fell for her deception, and swung where he thought she had moved towards. She, in turn, lunged and grasped his hand. Holding his wrist, she quickly gave it a well-deserved twist. He cried out, dropping the dagger. But she wasn't done. Her knee went to work, digging themselves into his core. She landed three strong knees into his guts, pommeling him as hard as she could. As if his eyes weren't red from his prior tears, his face was growing pink from the new abuse she was putting him through. After kicking the knife to the side, she pushed him away. He fell to the ground, winded and wheezing.

His eyes were bloodshot, and he gasped, "Time to take a risk!" while cradling his stomach. He suddenly bit down hard on his own hand, causing Mabel to pause and groan. He had bitten hard enough to draw blood, and his eyes then shone again, the same orange color. He did not float this time, instead, facing Mabel as she slowly advanced, uncertain to what he had just done, aside from bite his hand.

She observed him for a moment. Bobbing on her feet, she also advanced, and struck out. He stepped aside, smiling to himself. Like he knew exactly what her thoughts were, he anticipated, and blocked her attacks. He finally stuck Mabel in the face, smashing a fist against her cheek. Mabel gasped, turning away briefly. In the momentary cradling of her cheek, the warlock landed a strong kick on her back, shoving her against his table of ingredients. Mabel gasped, and turned, scowling at the man with glowing orange eyes.

Checking his nails, the Warlock sneered. "You won't get a hit on me again," the warlock told her confidently as more tears fell down his face, "I hear your own thoughts like they were being written above your head."

Mabel growled, and stepped closer again, throwing more punches and deceptive strikes. Each time it amounted to nothing. Truly the warlock wasn't lying, because it was harder and harder to fight him. He predicted and reacted to each move she made regardless of her intent behind them.

He sneered. Before her spoke, he held a hand to his throat, letting out an exasperated cry. "You're unfocused," he taunted her, "here you are, trying to play some game of 'good guy', and you can't even put your mind to it. Or is that really what you even want?"

Mabel panted, and took a step back. Her lungs were starting to burn, and her mind only entered deeper states of despair. She grew frustrated and tired, physically worn with the many retaliations he had done to her. Mabel took a long, steady breath, and slid her foot back, readying herself to try more. She couldn't stop, not with everyone's lives at stake.

The man before her, eyes pink as he wept, laughed in response to her stubbornness. He told her, "Stupid choice to make –"

A yell called behind the Warlock, who turned too late. Dipper had removed the last ropes and charged at the man with his back turned. Dipper wrapped two hands around him, holding his arms behind his back as they fell to the stony ground. Mabel ran to them, hoping to get a rope around the warlock's arms. But the man yelled furiously, and smashed the back of his head into Dipper's face.

Dipper howled in pain, and released his grip. After a moment of struggle, the Warlock stood and backed away, but Mabel was quick, and kicked out. The Warlock spun, his face assaulted. He turned back to them, his orange glow starting to fade and one of his eyes bruised. He gasped as much as the other two, his body heavy as he glared to them. His eyes flickered with orange light, his spell wearing out. His eyes were almost red from the bloodshot.

The warlock spat on the ground, blood mingling with sweat. "You two... you don't know what kind of can of worms you just opened up," the warlock warned them. He climbed back up to his feet, taking careful steps away. They countered his movements, following him as he back tracked to his stuff. They approached, and he whipped a hand towards Soos. "No closer!" he shouted angrily. They whipped their heads to Soos, who gasped as the chains grew taught.

Mabel cried out, her hands leaping to her mouth. "Stop! You're hurting him!" Mabel cried out, "You could kill him!"

The Warlock laughed bitterly, more tears falling from his battered face. "Better him th-than me," the warlock growled, "Now, stay put, and nothing bad will happen to him."

The twins looked to Soos, who's wide eyes pleaded desperately for help as he gasped for air. There was nothing that could be done, not without possibly hurting their friend. The Warlock laughed, picking up his second backpack, filled with books he had collected and stolen, stepping backwards, his hand still at Soos.

The thief, the warlock, started to back away. "Now, next time, you won't stand in the way of a warlock, will you?" he warned them with a grin, and he made a motion with his hand towards Soos. Dipper was, to Mabel's surprise, the first to react, and charged. The Warlock gasped and his hand fell from Soos' direction as he tried defending a huge uppercut from Dipper. Dipper's attack missed by a mile, but the Warlock had taken a wrong step.

"Uh, oh, aah!" the warlock gasped again and again, his arms waving wildly with the backpacks in his grip. He was stumbling back, and headed right for the massive pipe that was open, just above ground level. The back of his heel caught it, and he fell backwards. The man forgot the care about the packs, letting them fall back into the darkness as he extended his arms to catch either side of the hole. Realizing he was barely holding on now, he called out, "Help me! I'm slipping!"

Mabel and Dipper hadn't even paid attention to his peril. They had run to Soos, and pried away the enchanted chains. As the heavy metal fell aside from Soos, the warlock struggled to prevent his doom, holding on for dear life. After making sure the chains were kicked aside, the twins looked to Soos.

"Aw, dudes, thanks," he said. Then he gave them a serious look. "You know," Soos said, rubbing his stomach, which had been considerably squeezed in his containment, "I don't like the idea of abandonment with anyone, but this guy could be my first candidate for the exception."

Mabel cracked her neck. "I agree," Mabel nodded with a curt nod. "Dipper?" she asked to her brother, who stared at him angrily.

Dipper marched over to the thief, the Warlock. "You," Dipper growled. The warlock looked like he had back in the library- out of place and terrified. Where had all that power he liked to boast with? Was it all bravado and spells? Dipper continued, "So, you throw bodies down this drain, do you?"

The warlock, sprawled out with his limbs to prevent himself from falling into darkness, let out a pained cry before saying, "I just – it was a joke! I wanted to scare you!" The warlock was able to blurt out rapidly, his head shaking visibly in fear and the strain of keeping himself up. He added, "I'm sorry! I have a mission that was important! I need to discover the energy source or so I can-"

"You would have willingly killed me," Dipper told him with a deadly calm voice. The warlock stared fearfully at Dipper. The cut twin looked into his eyes as he added, "for this mission of yours."

The warlock had nothing to say to this. He opened and closed his mouth desperately, trying to speak, yet nothing but guttural sounds were made. One of his hands slipped. The other hand held true, and he swung down, slamming into the side of the vertical shaft. His feet slid on the interior, slimy and unclean, trying to push himself out. Dipper watched, his eyes lazily taking in the view. A man like this could go from domineering and cruel to helpless and pathetic from a simple trip of his feet.

Letting out a deeply pained screech, the Warlock yelled up at Dipper, "I won't stop!" there was a loud squeak as his foot failed to push him back up. Straining from his clutch on the edge, he roared, "I'll come back!"

Dipper raised his eyebrows. "Yeah?" he said. Dipper nodded, and told him, We'll be waiting," and strode away. He didn't need to see the man as his fingers slipped and he fell into the endless darkness, shouting all the way down. Marching away with heavy feet, he pulled his cap in front of his eyes. He finally stopped in front of Mabel and Soos. Looking to his sister, tears in his eyes, he asked her, "Should I have helped him?"

Mabel rushed forward, grabbing her brother in a sweeping hug. They held one other tightly. They weren't alone now.

---

"You kids could have been killed for crying out loud!" Grunkle Stan roared in the kitchen, leaning on the table with a hand as he stared at Dipper, the worse looking of the three to return.

Dipper didn't look to his Grand Uncle. Instead, he was focusing on the wrapping going around his arm. Wendy had been quick to retrieve medical supplies when Soos texted her as they left the secret cave. Mabel sat next to them, inspecting each measure Wendy took to wrap and clean the wounds.

Soos, washing his hands in the sink, took to their defense. "To be fair, this guy was nutso, mister Pines," Soos told him, "It sounded like he was willing to hurt anyone. He could have gone after anyone!"

Wincing a little at Wendy's handiwork, Dipper said quietly, "He said he did. Like he was proud of it or something."

Mabel looked to Dipper. "Didn't he say he was just lying?"

Her brother slouched slightly. "I don't know anymore," Dipper admitted, sighing deeply. He looked to the redhead, who was staring intently at her handiwork, "Thanks, Wendy."

She put down her gauze and tape. "How does it feel?" she asked.

He gave his arm a slow stretch. She had cleaned, stitched, and wrapped his entire cut like an expert. He actually smiled, shocked that his arm could feel as normal as it did. "Great," he told her with a sleepy grin. "Man," he told her, "You should be a doctor." Dipper chuckled with Mabel, and looked to the redhead.

Wendy seemed distant and tired, wearing a worn smile as she looked back to the two of them. "Just don't do anything crazy for a few days," she told him, "We can take those stitches out sooner than later," She winked at Dipper and stood up from her kneel, collecting her medical supplies as she left for the gift shop.

Massaging his eyes, Grunkle Stan scolded heatedly. "Didn't I tell you two to be careful around these kinds of people?" he cried out, facing Dipper directly. "What exactly should I tell your parents next time you go off like that and you come back in pieces?!"

"Grunkle Stan!" Mabel scolded him, "We are capable young fighters! We beat some jerk today who was using teleportenisis and stuff!"

Clearing his thoat, Dipper corrected Mabel with a, "Telekinesis." Afterwards, Dipper could only stare at the floor with red cheeks. It hadn't crossed his mind once, during the entire ordeal, what would have happened had he died. He felt very warm in the face, and lowered himself in a shamed bow, sitting his face into a hand.

Grunkle Stan sighed, and pulled out a chair, sitting next to the teenager. He lifted a heavy, hairy hand and firmly put it on Dipper's shoulder. "At least you won," Grunkle Stan admitted, "you got that to brag about, right? Can't say I can call you out like I did before."

Dipper looked up at him and smiled back with watery grimace. Sniffling at first, he looked then to his sister, who shared a grim look. There was a weight in his heart and mind. "We made another enemy today," Dipper stated darkly, looking to the floor.

Grunkle Stan shrugged. "That's life, Dipper," Grunkle Stan wrapped one of his large, muscular arms around his grand-nephew, "you make some friends, and if you're anything like me, a hundred million more enemies. But those friends, and your family, are worth a billion enemies. That's why we don't give up, ever. Right?"

Dipper turned, looking to his Grunkle. To receive a look of warmth like that would be worth another cut across the opposite arm. It was something Dipper rarely saw from his great uncle for anything, let alone directed at him. In the end, Grunkle Stan was proud of him, and that was victory in itself.

"Thanks," Dipper sighed timidly.

"Don't mention it," Grunkle Stan told him with a firm pat on the back. He then added, "Seriously, don't. I don't want people thinking I go soft on anything. That includes you too, kiddo," Grunkle Stan rounded on Mabel. She replied by blowing a raspberry and poked his face. The trio chuckled. Grunkle Stan cleared his throat. "Well, now that I have my handyman back, time to get cracking. Soos!" Grunkle Stan called towards the gift shop, forgetting Soos was busy washing himself off by the sink.

"Yo!" Soos replied, having Stan nearly twirling around to face him.

"Oh! Uh, dry off and come with me. I think we left a few things loose on the stairs. We don't need any lawsuits, you know?" Grunkle Stan told him. The two shortly departed.

Mabel stood up. "Ah, the feeling of accomplishment," Mabel calmly said, wincing at the bruise on her cheek. Dipper gave her a tired smile, faded and worn. His gaze fell back to the table shortly. Mabel plopped back down into her chair. "What?" she asked. "Dipper, I know that look. What is it?" she asked him.

He stood up, making for the side door that led outside. "I... it's nothing," he admitted shyly.

"Psh! Yeah right!" Mabel retorted, following her brother outside, still lively and animated enough to bound ahead and walk backwards, facing him as he moved from the shack.

"It's just," Dipper rolled his eyes, "oh, I'm – ugh – I'm just mad."

"What for? We won, ya dummy!" Mabel reminded him with a big grin.

"I know... but I was stupid," Dipper said. He walked over to a grassy spot and sat down. He then lay back, staring at the still blue skies above. He mumbled, "I was just stupid, letting myself get messed up like that."

Mabel watched him, and decided to sit as well, dropping herself carefully down next to him. She watched him study the clouds. She felt that same kind of weight in her mind, and marched over next to him and took a seat. She took to staring up at the skies as well, awaiting her brother's words.

Dipper rolled his eyes, fighting the emotions that fought to burst forth. "I wanted to prove," Dipper suddenly said, "I... that I could, you know, do this without needing any help."

"Prove to who?" Mabel turned from her spot, staring at him.

"You and Grunkle Stan, I guess," Dipper mumbled apologetically. Mabel gasped, and slapped his shoulder. "Ow! What!?"

"Why'd you think you need to prove yourself with us?" she asked, and before he could answer, she knew what he was going to say, "It's because we tease you? Dipper-"

"I know!" he called to the heavens, exhausted, clearly having gone through this discussion in his head, "It was just teasing! I shouldn't be taking it so seriously! I know!"

"Then why did you?" Mabel asked quietly, "It's not like I take any of your teasing seriously," she added.

Dipper stared at her. That was true. Most things he could throw at Mabel fell from her as water does off a duck. He wasn't Mabel, but he was certain he was better than letting such stupid moments infect his mind. He scrunched his face and shook his head. "I don't know. I just wanted to remind myself that I could do that sort of thing, prove you two wrong," Dipper tried explaining aloud, "maybe I believed it first, and you guys just started... reminding me that."

Mabel looked to him, and then gazed back up. She studied those blue skies, with the occasional white clouds that wisped away beyond the trees. Her mind reminded her that this wasn't her fault, as she believed. Yet, as was fated with her kinship with Dipper, she would feel guilty regardless how silly he had been. She had inadvertently pressured him into doing something stupid. That kind of thought then pulled up from her mind a previously forgotten, but nonetheless important, self-discovery.

"I'm sorry too," she sighed. Dipper turned to look at his sister, and she looked back, "about inviting Grenda and Candy over without your permission."

"Oh," Dipper blinked, a bit taken aback.

"It's our room," she said, and rolled onto her stomach, better to face him, "It's not my room that you're sharing, it's ours: the mystery twin room. And I didn't realize how much of distraction we can be."

Dipper grew pink in the cheeks. "You can be a bit noisy," he admitted. "But I know you miss those two."

"Oh, just a little," Mabel cheekily winked. The two chuckled. Mabel turned her head to the skies once more. "I'll make sure," she stated, "I let you know we want to use the room before we make plans, okay? That, or us girls will spend time in the living room for loud time, okay?"

Dipper snorted. "That way you can traumatize Grunkle Stan for once."

"Stoppit!" she smacked his cap limply, and the two laughed.

Dipper nodded. "I appreciate it, Mabes."

Mabel eyed her injured brother, and a thought came to her mind. "You know," she started, "If you'd like, I could show you a thing or two about my stuff."

"Huh? Not girl stuff," Dipper said a little apprehensively.

"The Paths?" Mabel clarified, "you know, see if you really like it? I know I make it look like a totally crazy thing, but there's room for a dorky, thinks-too-much-about-his-actions, nerdy kind of guy in the training."

"You want to teach me martial arts?" Dipper asked again, staring at his sister with a small, uncertain grin, "are you sure that's even allowed for your level of training, or whatever?"

She gave his concern a thought. "No idea," Mabel shrugged, "My master hasn't even considered the possibility, I think. Otherwise, she'd try to tell me not to, or if I could. I don't remember, to be honest!"

"Probably because she thinks you'd want to brag and show it off as much as possible," Dipper told her with the faintest of smiles.

"Shut up, you," Mabel told him while sticking out her tongue. "So, whadda ya say, bro-man?"

Dipper finally rolled himself to sit upwards, staring into the dark woods before him. He had seen so much of what awaited deep inside those woods. He wondered what else would be out there, waiting for him and his sister. His injured arm gave a small twinge of pain, and he gave it a look. He didn't want injures like this every time they went out exploring and solving mysteries. Dipper grinned, knowing exactly what he wanted. He turned back to Mabel, and nodded. "Show me what you've got," he told her.

---

WHOO. What a doozy.

So, I want to re-iterate that this is not the standard level of light/dark that this series is going to have. This is maybe the darkest point of the story, so if you tolerated (or enjoyed) that, you'll like the rest of this. And yes, the Warlock we saw this day is not exactly done mucking around Gravity Falls.

So, before I go today, I wanted to thank you all. I have had a TON of positive reactions and encouraging remarks about this story so far, and you all have made me want to go further and further each chapter. So, thank you all. We're just getting started and I already feel like I've accomplished something for you all.

Anyhow, Seeya- (A giant lolipop the size of a truck slams through the roof of EZB's dorm, crushing him under it's weight and destroying the desk.)

Lollipop: There you go, children, now the story isn't as dark anymore.

Unseen Audience Entirely Comprised of Children: YAY!

---

Deep inside the unnecessarily complicated sewer systems of Gravity Falls, a main-line slushed forward the unpleasant refuse and unmentionable discards of town. The main line was perforated with many other smaller openings to tubes and pipelines. From one leading upwards, an echoing clanging resonated. Then a man fell into the sewer mains.

His blond hair was now covered in filth, as was his bruised face. Using all his mental discipline to not gag, he reached inside his pockets. Pulling out a cellphone, he held its light before him. Seeing the sewers around him, the Warlock groaned.

"No reception," He scowled, looking to the piping he came from. Using the bend of his arm to wipe away some of the vileness, he groaned and quietly muttered, "Stupid… kids. Teenagers," he heatedly slapped the discolored water. As he did, he took several quick, tempering breaths. He stared into the darkness around him.

He looked at the light of the phone in his hands. "It was everywhere," he muttered, "but that can't be right," he added, swallowing away that strange vocal pain, "how could a town just be filled with energy levels like that? What the hell kind of town…" he then flicked his eyes ahead. "I need to tell him. I'm going to get this job done, and then," he sneered, "Those damn kids are going to pay–"

To his left, a gentle squeak caught his attention. A hairy rodent was on a small platform of dirt. It was eying him curiously.

The Warlock splashed at it. "Get lost!" he scowled. The rodent recoiled, and then shook itself off the water. It glared back at the Warlock.

From behind the one diminutive creature, many tiny eyes flickered in the dim electronic light; red, hateful, and hungry. The warlock's leer faltered, and he gulped. "Ah… rats."

Those close to plumbing fixtures in town might have heard a particularly panicked screaming, if they listened closely. But this was Gravity Falls, and most people tried to just ignore the occasional disembodied screams. To the residents, it was just another afternoon to get by.

---

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