Thirty-eight.
Thirty-eight groups of even harder to scare and frighten children, teens, and adolescents had come to the Mystery Manor since Stan and Arline had begun their bargain. Of those thirty-eight, thirty eight ran screaming back down the path- a higher ratio of scares than Stan had ever had.
He wouldn't admit it to himself, but his body was thankful for Arline being here. Her half contribution (he'd argue forty percent, at best) of the frights had allowed him to stay refreshed in an otherwise ocean of desensitized youths. She made it easier. Two separate scares, compared to one, was harder to shrug off.
But the night grew dark. It was nearing eleven, and Stan breathed hard as he rested against his door, looking at the concerned pig before him. Waddles snorted at the old man, who nodded. "I know," Stan nodded as he grumbled, "I'm almost out of tricks." Stan stood up and turned, staring outside to the porch. There, on the couch, Arline also rested her head. She had been the kindling to the fire the two had made that terrorized the visiting trick or treaters, and she too was showing signs of faltering. With a new grin on his lips, he pushed outside, and held onto the doorframe as Waddles pushed past him. "Well, looks like missus 'Oh! I know everything there is to scaring people' is running low on fuel."
"You wish," she said after she swallowed and leveled her breathing.
"Hah! You can't lie to me," Stan told her as he placed his knuckles on his hips, "Your ideas are just fumes at this point! Lost all that fire."
"And you got more to dish out?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow as she sized him up.
"Of course!" Stan lied.
"Right. Because you're sweating because it's soo hot on this seventy-degree evening," Arline pointed out as Stan stretched a false smile across his face.
His proud demeanor faltered, and he slipped a hand over his forehead. She had been right- several droplets of sweat fell down his brow. "That's just the heat from the fires," Stan scoffed.
"Even if I did believe you," Arline stood up, "You're only about to end up being burned," she told him, looking him dead in the eyes, "Because I've still to dish out my best."
"Hah! We'll see your best when it finally comes, but then the only star will be me," Stan pointed a thumb to himself as he leaned in, "When I dish out the real deal!"
The woman before him had often given Stan a disapproving shake of her head, or a glare. This time, to his surprise, she looked… done. Just tired and unwilling to shoot back.
She mumbled, "Fine, sure," and walked away, towards her room.
Stan watched her go, aware that the pretense of game in her voice had completely dropped away. He opened his mouth. He couldn't believe himself; he almost asked her if she was okay. Then he slapped himself in the forehead. Why should he care? Women.
Waddles snorted at his feet, and grumbled.
"What?" Stan asked him, "she's just being stupid. If she can't deal with the fact that I'm clearly the better scare-master," Stan told the pig, "Then maybe she should go off and pout."
Waddles stared at him, his eyes squinting in judgment.
"Listen, swine," Grunkle Stan told Waddles, ushering him inside, "That scrub crud may work on Mabel, but it won't work on me, so spare me!" He told the pig as he closed the door and leaned against it.
Dang it. This wasn't working as well as he had planned. Either the heat of Arline's crazy-mojo-magic-martial-arts witchcraft had exhausted him, or he was truly losing his touch. Days in the past Summerween and Halloween had come where Stan had been able to hold an entire night to just scaring and frightening. Now it seemed he struggled to keep his eyes open. Fatigue settled in as an unwelcome houseguest.
Waddles oinked loudly.
"What?" Stan asked him. Waddles padded the front door behind him with his hoof. Stan spun and placed his eyes against the spying glass and peering into the night. "Oh... no," Stan groaned.
There had been one group of thirteen-year-olds he had been expecting since the night began. There had been certain group of kids who had, since Mable and Dipper first come to Gravity Falls, always given Stan problems. These weren't just any kids: they were internet kids. The kinds that got excited about scary games and videos. The kinds that made Stan question his ability to terrorize every half year or so. And they seemed to be his last customer.
"Great," Stan groaned as he put himself away from the door again. "Just gotta... give 'em my best. No holding back on these one anymore." Stan then heard their voices as they got closer.
"No, yeah, we know his gimmick," one of the kids said, "Likes to try pretending he's normal, and then he gets you when his guard is down."
"That doesn't sound so scary," another, a girl, said.
"Yeah, he's thinks it's all scary, but it's really not anymore," another of the group said.
Stan growled. How dare they speak to him as that? He had earned that reputation as king of scares through pain and practice. Nothing less than a week of preparing and practicing came before each of the two holidays; and what were they talking about? Him, not scary? He had thirty-eight other groups to prove just the opposite!
"I once showed him a jump-scare, and he ran back inside screaming," one of the kids bragged, eliciting laughter from his peers.
Then again, they had a point. They had nailed his method- pulling the carpet out from under them. They knew that, so maybe their critical view wasn't unfounded. Stan growled and thought.
Maybe... maybe he should start with something else? With Arline? Let her start, and then he pull in with the final scare! Granted, they had a back-and-forth tag-team of sorts, and recently, it was his turn to let her go first, but maybe if he just waited for her to go, he could grab the glory. The two were tired after all, on the count of who scared the most. Stan needed this.
He needed to prove he could scare these stupid, spoiled kids.
So, he stepped back and crossed his arms, grinning. They won't know what hit 'em, he thought to himself with a low chuckle. Waddles looked to him as the door before him was knocked. Yet Stan did nothing. Waddles oinked. Stan grinned, put a finger to his mouth to quiet the pig.
"Mister, open up," one of the kids said to the door.
Stan didn't budge. Arline would be coming any second now.
Another knock on the door, and Stan looked to Waddles, his smile fading.
Aaaaaany second now, he thought to himself as he scratched his skin through the heavy makeup he wore. Nothing seemed to be happening.
"Does he always make you wait this long?" another girl of the group asked.
"Not unless he's given up. He is like, ninety or whatever. Maybe he went to sleep," the leader of the group said.
"But the lights are one," the second lead, the best friend, point out.
Stan bit his lip. Where was Arline? Shouldn't she be putting on her little pyrotechnics show now? He needed her- err- her effects for the show. Without those fires, his last performance was exactly what they called it out to be as- pulling the carpet from under their expectations.
"Hey!" the same leader called, "Open up already!"
Stan closed his eyes and stared at the door. He had to answer them. He had never missed a door in his life when it came to Summerween. He wouldn't miss one now. But if he answered, there was no guarantee he could even startle them, let alone scare them. What would it be? He paused and thought. Maybe… his time was really over. With a sad sigh, he reached over to a small table and lifted up a bowl of candy. With a step forward, he opened the door.
"Trick or treat," several of the kids said. The front two stared at Stan.
"About time," the larger of the two, with a gap between his two front teeth said.
"Well, go ahead. Show us how scary you are," the second one, a boy with darker skin, told Stan.
Stan, glum and sour, rattled the bowl of sweets. "Ha-ha. Right, just take your candy and get lost," Stan grumpily told them. Of the five, the three shrugged and approached. Yet the front two extended hands and held their friends back. Stan rolled his eyes, "Oh, what? Is my candy going to jump out at you now?"
"You've always got a trick or something," the darker skinned one said.
Stan sighed, not willing to even consider tearing his fake skin off. "Just take the candy already," he said with a low rumble.
After a moment, the two leaders looked between one another. Their eyes had focused onto one another as they silently communicated a message of distrust towards Stan, who only shook his head. He wasn't going to waste their expectations on them this time. His energy would be better saved for another day, or another group.
As they reached out, and their hands nearly touched the rim of the bowl of candy, a loud thud caused a shriek in the two girls of the group, who spun around. Stan rose his head to see the source, and blinked.
What he had expected to be Arline was... not. A figure, dressed head to toe in what seemed to be a late reissuance crimson jester outfit, had landed just at the edge of light. It wore a massive, twisted mask with a huge grin and black slits for eyes. The figure stared at the kids. The figure slowly stood up, hunching over and rattling its arms, where sharp looking bells were all attached.
"See?" the leader said with a sigh, "He always tries this."
"Look, I like make up, kid," Stan told him honestly, catching the group's attention. "That thing isn't part of my act."
"Liar," the best friend said, but he glanced back to the figure.
It tilted its head to the side. The blackness beneath the slots for eyes carried no light, but it was clear who the jester spoke to.
If Stan hadn't heard Arline's voice many times before, he would not have know it was hers. "Well," Arline's voice, deeper and raspy startled the group, "Little fodder for good 'ol Jaspar to play with? Oh, and an old man to boot," she said, pointing at them with clawed fingers, "This night just got fun!"
The jester wove her arms above her head. With a clap and boom, a ring of fire exploded out from her back and quickly circled the group of kids and Stan, who stared at the act with awe.
"No one leaves today, not without entertaining me first!" the jester cackled, and started hopping on her feet, jingling the bells.
Several of the kids whimpered. "Okay, we get it," the leader told Stan worriedly, "You got better at your act. Cut it out."
"This isn't me!" Stan told him honestly. He was, however, still on the joke. This was already going beautifully.
Arline the Jester used that scratchy voice, saying, "Now… lets start the fun."
She twisted her body around like some demented contortionist. She then slowly lifted her hand. As she did, a stream of fire coiled around her in the form of a serpent. With a summersault, she thrust it at the kids. The animal construction of flame hissed and roared as it jetted forward, and the kids screamed. Stan saw his chance. With only a hope and prayer that Arline wouldn't endanger kids for a scare, he tossed his candy aside and jumped in front of the serpent. He was in luck- it faded just as it struck him. However, Stan made little twitches and shakes with his arms and body. He played it like the fire snake had entered his body.
"Uh... oh..." Stan said, slowly turning around to the group, ready for his own half, "Kids... I don't know how long I can hold her off," he said as he let his deep voice play his false pain for him, "So when you get the chance... run!" he said, and then he gripped the sides of his face, and slide his nails across. The kids screamed as parts of his skin fell away, revealing a deep red muscle layer underneath. "RUN!" he told them as he turned and ran at the jester, who then made the circle of fire vanish.
Instead, Stan found himself in a huge, air-shaking spiral of fire. He could feel the make-up begin to melt off his face it was so hot. But it only lasted a second: Arline dropped the entire show, and turned away from him, as five kids were running for their lives back down the path.
"Ha... Ha! HA!" Stan began to laugh as they vanished. "That's right! Run! Run, you little twerps! Not so easy to be brave around me as you thought, is it!?" Stan barked and laughed, wiping off the second layer of make-up, revealing his actual skin underneath.
He had won. Victory against such jaded children was a sweet kind of victory that Stanley Pines always needed. Next to him, with a sigh, Arline pulled off the Jester hood and mask. She stood next to him, watching the kids flee with a slight smile.
Stan turned to her, and pursed his lips. "We should sit down," he allowed himself to say to her.
"Not a bad idea," she nodded and turned with him towards the porch. A few moments later, the two slumped on the outdoor seating. Waddles came up and sat before them, giving them his usual beady eye smile.
Stan moved his eyes over, checking with Arline. She still seemed glum. Something about that, despite what he wanted to believe, upset him. "Uh," Stan started, scratching his neck, "You, uh... you aren't bad at scaring kids," he admitted.
Arline jolted a little. She looked to him. Rolling her eyes, she tossed the hat down, where it landed next to Waddles. "You're better," she told him.
"Oh, don't swaddle me," Stan grumbled, "You got more to work with."
"And you found a more consistent routine," she argued. "I counter," she added with a sigh, "I think you technically won-"
"I don't care," Stan grumbled.
Arline flicked her head towards him, blinking. "What?" she asked.
"Yeah, look, I don't care about the whole deal," Stan shrugged. "Anyone who can freak the minds of the youth to run like that doesn't owe me anything," he stated.
Arline looked to him, her eyes wider than he had ever seen them when giving him a look other than anger or dissatisfaction. She grinned. "Stan," she said, "the real reason I'm here is to stop Graupner."
"... Come again?" Stan blinked and stuck a finger in his ear, wriggling it around.
Arline leaned into the sofa. "Just before June started," Arline told him, looking to the dark forests around them, "I was contacted by... my master. The master of the Paths himself. He had been gone for so many years, and he just popped out of nowhere. He told me that Graupner, the Warlock, could be after something... important here."
Stan felt a worry in his mind and heart. "Like what?" he asked.
To his relief, Arline admitted, "I don't know." She put a hand through her tied up hair and let down her ponytail she had made for the hood. She added, "Signs seem to lead that something big is hiding in this town, or nearby. It is something more important than just ghost and ghoulies. Something... else."
Stan watched her and his thoughts swirled. This guy, the warlock: he was after the portal? Or was there something else in town he had missed? No, Stan thought to himself, there's one, big, scary artifact under the dirt, and it's here.
"So, when I say I'm here to help Mabel and Dipper," Arline continued, "I mean it. They found the guy first, and he's not someone who cares to be pleasant or nice to anyone just because he can. He'll be mean, and cruel, and brutal whenever he gets the chance. And I can't let that be," she said, rubbing her eyes.
"Right, hence cutting Dipper's arm," Grunkle Stan agreed. So, the secret had just been that she knew about Gruapner beforehand. Stan let out a long sigh. "Look," He began to admit, "I... owe you an apology."
"You didn't know, Stanley," Arline shrugged.
"I didn't, but I knew you weren't anything bad," Stan told her, "And I used the idea that I didn't know to make you all evil-looking. I'll be honest here," Stan said, rubbing his hair, "I'm nervous that you're more... eh... 'cool' than me," Stan quoted with his fingers.
"Cool?" she repeated.
"Yeah! You're younger, hip, happy and all that stupid new-age hippy stuff," Stan groaned as Arline grinned while shaking her head. He felt heavy as he said, "And I'm not. I'm old, and grouchy and," Stan truly felt awful as he thought about it, "Only getting older. The kids are just about to go through the best years of their lives, and here I am, getting tired and wrinkly."
"You are getting a bit wrinkly, but just a bit," Arline shrugged. Stan shook his head, and Arline piped up. She leaned up to look him in the eyes. "Stan. I'm not replacing you," she told him fimrly. "I may be all those things, and heck, even Mabel's teacher," she added, "But in the end, you're family to them. They clearly love you so much in ways I could never hope to compete, not that I ever have wanted to," she added, as Stan's eyes stared to fill with light. She said gently, "That'll mean a lot more to them, in the end, than I ever will."
Stan could not believe himself as he looked up to her, a small smile on his face. He especially couldn't believe himself when he opened his mouth and said, "Thanks."
"No problem," she said. She slowly lifted out a hand. "Stan," she quietly said, "We're on the same side here. We can disagree about stuff, like how we treat others and crud, but let's at least keep some things neutral. What do you say?" she offered, seeking truce.
Stan nodded and grabbed her hand with his own. "For the twins sake," he told her.
Perhaps the stars themselves had aligned that night. Maybe the hands of fate had guided Stan to a point where he truly believed her. She turned away, fanning hers face as she sat next to him, in her crazy jester costume. Stan really found himself believing, for the first time, she was someone he could rely on. She cared, really cared about the twins. She could punch hard, and take some hits, and clearly enjoyed a good fright.
Stan, for the first time in a very, very long time, made a quick decision. "Stand up and follow me," Stan told her as he pushed himself off the couch, forcing Waddles to step towards the door, "I need to show you something."
"If it's your gun collection Stan," Arline chuckled, "I've already seen it. Twice. You made sure to try intimidating me."
"Trust me," Stan told her as he held the door open for her and Waddles. As they stepped inside, he checked the outside one last time. "You'll want to see this. It's important." As he closed the door, the loud click of a lock followed, and the front porch light was turned off.
In the many visual representations of death Dipper had ever gone through in his head, the one he was looking at was the furthest from his guess. He had thought 'tall man in a suit', or 'shadowy figure in a large cloak', and once he even wagered it was an old man in a wheelchair who poked you with his death-walking stick. A eighteen-year-old redhead with a bomber hat was the last one on his list for 'physical embodiment of death itself'.
Dipper and Mabel had pressed themselves against a tall tombstone behind them staring at Wendy. Mabel had wrapper arms around Dipper's shoulder, and Dipper followed suit. Wendy's tired, empty eyes watched them shake and stare at her.
"Dipper," Mabel trembled as she rattled out words, "I think we're about to die. So, just before we do – I've always loved you, and I think you're actually really smart and funny and a girl would probably deserve you, but gosh I really wish I had a sister too!"
"Aw Mabel, I – wait," Dipper heard the last bit, and glared at his sister. "Nice," he grumbled.
A gust of wind picked up Wendy's hair, and the twins jolted to stare at her again, shivering. Any movement from her could be the last things the twins ever saw. Dipper closed his eyes. Undead were not keen on letting people walk away, and this one had caught them. Wendy had them, and it would be over now. Dipper counted the seconds before life was taken from him...
...Nothing happened. He poked out an eye from under his lid, and found Wendy had spun around, sitting on her own tombstone.
"You guys should leave," she said, her voice cracking so abruptly, Dipper thought she might have just been punched in the ribs.
"What do you mean?" Mabel asked, holding Dipper back.
Wendy sighed, her voice trembling. "Like, you two dudes should go now."
"What?" Dipper asked.
"Yeah, what ever happened to the whole," Mabel acted her best as a ghost, "youuu knoowww ourrr secret, and nowww mussst diiieee sort of thing?" she finished, dropping the performance entirely to grab Dipper again.
Wendy chuckled, her voice sounding tight and forced. When she turned around, her eyes shined in the light and... there was a tiny smile on her face. "Guys," the voice of the Wendy the twins had known said, "It's still me here."
"But-" Mabel stated.
"I could never hurt you two," she said as she shifted herself, sitting on her own tombstone but looking to them, "As long as I could help it, I wouldn't pull a hair off your head."
"But you're a ghost, right?" Mabel asked.
Dipper groaned and shook his head. "No way. She's been everywhere with us. She never freaked out the NPPP or their EMF detectors, and she's physical. She exists physically here, with us," Dipper said.
Wendy nodded slowly. "So far, right on, man," she quietly said, rubbing her nose.
"And you've never burned in sun before," Dipper continued, "Meaning... you've either always been a vampire who adapted to sunlight, or you aren't one."
"Right on 'not a vampire'," Wendy smiled widely, showing her lack of fangs.
"Which means one of two things," Dipper said, "You're... some sort of clone... or a really well kept together zombie." At his suggestion, Wendy shook her head. Dipper frowned. "No? Which one?" Dipper asked, but she continued to shake her head. He snapped, "Both are wrong!?"
"Both dude," she sighed, "I'm not a brain eater man. That's so much more Robbie's thing, if he was an undead or whatever," she chuckled darkly.
"Then... what are you?" Dipper demanded strongly.
Wendy's eyes focused on him. Something deep within those green eyes struggled. She clearly hated admitting to what she was. For the first time since the end of Duskhopes last concert, Dipper debated if he wanted to know the secret now. Something about finally being here, before the woman he had almost spied on several times, felt raw. It was almost uncomfortable watching Wendy squirm. Dipper could only watch as she came to her decision. With a long, troubled sigh, Wendy said, "I'm a wraith."
"A what?" Mabel asked.
Dipper let his eyes dance around as he first mentally scanned his brain. "I've heard of them before," Dipper said, pulling back out his journal and flipping through more pages, "They're in Stronghold and Serpents as a monster. Sort of a like a ghost, but they're also physical." Of the many notes he had re-written in his own journal, he struggled to find this one. Monsters and ghosts and all sorts of beings were flipped through. Still, wraith was no part of the journal he could see. "It's not in here?!" Dipper gasped as he realized, after going through the entire book twice, there was not a single page dedicated to the thing Wendy was before them.
"Not surprised," Wendy said, "Whatever I really am is... an old curse sort of deal. I've not run into anything like me. Maybe I'm the only one," she suggested.
"Wendy, did this happen before we met?" Dipper asked. Wendy shook her head. Dipper tried again, "After?" To that, she picked her stone gently with her heel, and Dipper glanced to the date, right next to her foot. "Wait... then you really did die?"
She slowly nodded. "Yeah. Three years ago, after you two went back home, actually," she said, talking to the ground.
"Wendy," Dipper stepped forward.
Mabel reached out and tried holding him back. "Dipper," she warned him, yet he pushed forward.
"Tell us what's happened," he asked.
Wendy's eyes glazed over and she closed them. A tear ran down her cheek from one of her eyes and she nodded. "Sure," she told him, "It's really about time I could tell someone the truth aside from Robbie."
Dipper opened his mouth, about to ask what he had to do with this, but he withheld. Wendy would not be interrupted by him. Mabel too was quiet, watching Wendy like she would lunge out and attack at any second.
Wendy began her story. "The Halloween after you guys left was rocky. Robbie wanted to start a band, a real band outside town and leave. He wanted Tambry to go with him, but she wanted to stay behind and go to school in Portland. They argued about it. Finally they broke up. It was bad," she admitted with a heavy, angered sigh. "Robbie thought unless he was free to roam wherever he wanted, he couldn't make it big."
"That night was going to be their first night without each other. Robbie was desperate to get back with her. Tambry was still angry, so she wouldn't talk to him. He even jumped in on her party, and tried talking to her- which just ruined the party," Wendy continued, "So everyone left. I was walking home. Right back there, actually," she pointed over the hill, "To my place."
"Robbie drove up next to me. He thought I could 'talk sense' or something into Tambry. I told him it wasn't my business, 'cus it wasn't," she added with a huff, "And he wouldn't hear me out. He just kept on driving next to me... he wasn't watching where we were. The he tried turning into the street without checking, and he was hit by another car. My dad's truck."
Mabel's defensive instincts dropped. Sympathy flooded her eyes. "Oh," Mabel softly whimpered.
Wendy snorted. "He was okay. He was thrown out into a lawn and broke his ankle and knee on one leg, but... his car..." Wendy swallowed and looked away from the twins, "My dad's truck was too heavy to be stopped by Robbie's van. It just... pinned me and pushed me..."
Wendy's voice cracked and she turned away for a moment. Dipper suddenly remembered where he was; in the graveyard. He had been so drawn in to her story that he had even forgotten what he had been doing here to begin with. He really didn't remember that still, when he thought about it. All he could hear was Wendy clearing her voice and the mild scrap of jeans against tombstone as Wendy turned back.
"So... I died a few minutes later. My dad tried getting me out of the wreck," Wendy continued, "and... next thing I remembered," she shrugged, "I woke up in the morgue with Robbie."
"What?" Dipper gasped.
"He told me later," Wendy explained, "That when my body was taken away, they wanted to examine it first. My dad went crazy – he wanted to see me. So, all to examiners had to try stopping him. In the commotion, Robbie snuck in with that stupid spell book he found in the library," Wendy admitted, "And tried 'binding me to life' or whatever. Well... it worked. Sort of," she said.
"So, he resurrected you?" Dipper asked her, his eyes widened.
"No. I'm not alive," Wendy shook her head and held her shoulders in her hands. "The spell, when we checked it later, was supposed to bind me to Robbie, but he didn't try that part. So... I'm this result from an uncompleted spell," she shrugged as more tears fell down her face.
"So, you're... really undead?" Mabel asked, standing next to Dipper.
"Why can't you go to anyone else?" Dipper said, "If you left the morgue, wouldn't people think you were alive?"
"Thanks to my dad and the police, no," Wendy shook her head, "He wouldn't stop fighting about it. So, when the cops showed up, and had to arrest him, the newspapers put him on the front cover instead of my death. So, everyone knew my dad went crazy for something, but no one really knew why unless they asked. My friends... they figured it out from Robbie, who wouldn't tell them he brought me back... my family thinks I'm gone forever... I was alone. So, I starting walking out of town. Visiting over areas of Oregon. I really liked Portland, actually. Cool place," she admitted.
"You just walked to Portland?" Dipper asked. "What about school?"
"I couldn't just go to school, Dipper," Wendy scolded him, "What if people knew? All the people I cared about already did know, so if I ran into them, I couldn't... I just couldn't. During school I wandered around. The summer after that," Wendy remembered, "I was going to leave, you know that?" she told them, "And I went to visit the Mystery Shack. I wanted to see it one more time, just before I left for good. Stan was just there, asking me if I was still going to work for the summer. Soos too. Neither of them knew."
"They are kind of out of the loop," Dipper nodded. Mabel gripped his shoulder tightly, trying to pull him away.
Wendy continued, "I had a place to stay during the Summer. A place during the day. But... that was still nine months out of the year I had nowhere to go."
"What about food and water?" Dipper asked.
Her eyes flashed dangerously. "I can't eat," Wendy told him angrily, "I can't drink. I can't even sleep!" she shook her head and put hands over her face. "I want to! So badly! I'm starving, and I'm so thirsty I can feel every bit of my throat like it's just sand! I'm so tired, but when I close my eyes, there's this awful… I can't even describe it! I'm just stuck like this! Stuck forever hungry, and thirsty, and tired!"
Dipper stepped back, breathing quickly. Wendy was starting to act hysterical, and it was catching onto him. He could feel his heart racing dangerously. He was scared of her now, scared and saddened by her entire existence.
"The only people, the only people I could, without a doubt," Wendy pulled her hands away, revealing streaks of tears down her face, "Hang around without worrying was... you two," she said with a sniffle.
Mabel looked mortified. Dipper swallowed harshly. "W-Wendy," Dipper tried, his voice too small and scared to sound significant.
Wendy's voice was breaking up. "B-but now you t-two know," she nodded and finally stood back up, looking at them in the eyes, "You've heard ab-bout me... and why would you want to hang around a walking, talking corpse? I'm just a monster now, the k-kinds we used to stop!" she hollered, and held an arm over her eyes as she stumbled back, leaning on her tombstone.
"Wendy-"
"Leave me alone! JUST GO!" she roared, her voice rocking the night around them.
Without another word, the twins charged off. Dodging tombstone after memorial plaque, the two twins huffed and puffed as they ran for their lives. Dipper only once looked back at the red-headed girl by the tombstone, now falling to her knees. Past rows of the reminders of mortality, the twins chased one another out of the graveyard. Their steps were loud and unforgiving as the robed twins darted like crazy out into the path, and over the hill.
Only a few minutes later, some half mile away from the graveyard, Dipper stopped and landed roughly on the side of the road. He panted, and made gasping noises to have Mabel stop as well. She too slowed and turned, ripping off her false beard and moustache as she panted just as much as Dipper did. The had sprinted the entire time, and now stared at each other on the road.
"Wha... wha... wha... what do we... do?" Dipper asked Mabel after a pause.
"I dunno," she managed, still standing.
"But..." Dipper growled as he swallowed his pain. This was big. This was huge, and entirely terrifying. "She fooled us... the entire time..."
"Dipper," Mabel looked at him, knowing that tone he took before spiraling, "That's not going to help us."
"But I'm supposed to be the solver of all the mysteries!" Dipper exclaimed, "And one of the biggest was under my noses the entire time!"
"Dipper, that's because all the biggest mysteries are under our noses!" Mabel told him angrily, and realized that half of her moustache had not been removed, "Oh, c'mon off you rat!" she growled as she pulled off the last chunk of hair. "Ow!"
Dipper felt a buzz in his head. He saw the woman he and his sister had just run from. He saw how she had fallen to her knees, weeping. "We have to do something," Dipper announced.
"Like what?" Mabel asked.
"I don't know, but we have to do something," Dipper tried again.
"How?!" Mabel exclaimed, "Dipper, she's undead! They're like the least safe of all the monsters we encounter! And I remember the dinosaurs!" she pointed at him, "Those things bite you and carry away your pigs!"
"Mabel-"
Mabel slammed her eyes shut as she shuddered and yelled, "I was possessed by ghosts, Dipper!" As she calmed for a moment, Dipper nodded.
"I know," he quietly recalled, "And I am pretty sure I was turned into a literal pine-tree once by one. I get it, they're all really scary."
Mabel shook her head, as if missing something in their communication. "Dipper, undead are– are not," Mabel squeezed her eyes shut and finally said, "Nice things."
Dipper looked down to the ground and concrete below him. She was right. Of the types of monsters and mysteries that he and Mabel had come across, undead were the most dangerous. They weren't just one type of being- but a wide span of darkly colors and shapes. Some controlled the very fabric of magic and the universe, and others never stopped until they got what they wanted.
And to think, all this time, Wendy had been one of these beings.
"Dipper," Mabel softly said, coming to sit next to him, "Maybe this is something we need to let go."
"What?" he asked her.
Mabel groaned and looked away. "I didn't want to believe it, but what if you were right?" Mabel asked as she turned back and leaned toward Dipper, "She's been lying to us, all this time. What if now, even though she doesn't want to, she may have to hurt us if we get too close? Ghosts don't usually want to hurt people – but they do."
"She isn't a ghost," Dipper pointed out.
"So?" Mabel asked.
"She's different," Dipper protested.
She frowned. "She could hurt you."
"The key word there is 'could'," Dipper argued, "She could have hurt us the entire summer. She's helped more than-"
"Dipper!" Mabel cut him off. Dipper held himself back, staring at his sister. "She's-"
"This isn't like you," Dipper told her firmly. "You'd never turn away from Wendy. Why are you acting this way?" Mabel frowned and shook her head yet said nothing. Dipper tried again, stronger in his conviction, "Mabel."
"I'm… really scared, Dipper. I'm scared," she finally admitted. "It's scary for me. You weren't possessed by one of those things before."
"No," Dipper reminded her. "I've seen my body possessed by other things though. Bill?" he reminded her. Mabel recoiled a little, some amount of shame cresting over her eyes. Dipper looked to her and sighed. "I'm not saying she isn't scary, okay? But, look, now that we have the story, the evidence speaks out for itself."
Mabel blinked, eying her brother. "Wanna say that again so your freaked out sister understands any of it?"
"She isn't a just a ghost, Mabel, or a demon. She... she's just like us, only cursed," he ended, and then blinked. "She's just cursed. That's all. She's just cursed!"
"I heard you the first time, dude," Mabel told him as he stood up.
Dipper felt the choice of words infect him. There was excitement inside his heart again. "Mabel, don't you get it?" he spun around, his body stirring with possibility. "There isn't any difference between her and us, except her curse!" Mabel blinked and before she could reply, Dipper paced back and forth before her, "She's had all the chances in the world to hurt us, but didn't. She's tried keeping us safe and away from the truth, because she was afraid what would happen. She's... Mabel, she's just like you!"
"...Scared?" Mabel asked.
"Yes," Dipper nodded, a smile on his face, "She's scared! She isn't angry at us, or mad, or anything like that! She's... lost," Dipper turned to the street, "And we need to change that."
"How?" Mabel stood up, stepping next to him, "She said that it was one of the books Robbie took from the library- like the ones that the Warlock stole?" Mabel reminded him, and Dipper groaned.
"You're right. We'd have to ask her more, and then try finding where he hid those other books after we lost him the first time," Dipper thought aloud.
"But she doesn't want us near, remember?" Mabel told Dipper, "Kind of ruined that chance."
"Yeah," Dipper nodded and sighed, "This would be a lot easier of we had some backup. But everyone's at that crazy party," Dipper added. Mabel nodded and sighed as well. Within a moment, her eyes began to grow wider and wider, and she began to slap Dipper's arm. "Ow," he complained when she started gasping and hopping, "What?" he demanded.
"I got it," she told him, "Our backup!"
"What... do you have planned?" Dipper asked her.
Forty-five minutes later, Dipper and Mabel appeared over the hill. They were not alone.
The entire party at Zander Maximillion's place had up and lifted themselves from the building, taken almost every piece of moveable equipment and helped lift it down the street. Nearly a hundred people or so walked behind the twins; Candy and Grenda, Pacifica and Yuki, Melody and Soos, and Zander, who with Soos's help, was able to carry the entire mix table. As they rounded the curve on the hill, Mabel pointed ahead.
"Go! Make this place decorated to a Maximillion standard!" Mabel commanded.
Several people her age ran past, holding streamers and decorations borrowed from the party. They began to rush through all the tombstones and light posts, wrapping them in red, green, orange and black.
"Get those melon-lanterns up!" Mabel barked at a pair, who nodded and hung a scarecrow with the head of a carved watermelon.
"You heard her!" Grenda shouted as she adjusted her witch costume, "Chop-chop!"
"Alright folks!" Zander called as well, "Let's get the generators set up for the music! And then we continue the party- in style!"
The crowd roared with approval, and people rushed forward, connecting wires together. Soon, not only was the graveyard an outdoor light show, but a fully stocked dance party. Dipper glanced around as the lights shone. He had expected Wendy to flee from the coming crowd, but maybe he could spot her hiding in the edges of the graveyard. Instead, a hand reached around and spun him. Zander was beaming with Mabel.
"I'll be honest, I'm a little jealous that I didn't think of this first!" Zander laughed as Soos began to play the music again. "Party at the graveyard? At night? So eighties I can't even handle it!" Zander said loudly.
"It was Mabel's idea," Dipper shrugged.
Mabel blinked, and opened her mouth to deny responsibility, but as soon as the emerald green eyes of Zander turned to her, she grinned and shrugged. "Yeah, well, you know. Moment of inspiration and boom!" she tossed her hands into the air, "You got a good idea."
"I need to remember to keep you around for good ideas," Zander chuckled and winked at her. Mabel promptly blushed and spun half way from him.
"Ohh Mabel," Candy nudged Mabel with a grin, "You still have it," she said quietly.
"Yeah!" Grenda shouted, "Now let's go grab some food!"
"To the candy table!" Mabel declared and the three charged off.
Candy uttered quietly after her, "To the me table!"
Next to Dipper, Pacifica was pulling Yuki towards the dancing crowd. "C'mon," she asked him, "You've had some chances to learn the moves. Show me what you got."
"I have been studying these 'moves'," Yuki admitted as he nervously looked around, now standing in the middle of a wave of moving bodies, "But studying and applying are separate actions."
"Don't be shy, handsome," Pacifica said slyly. Yuki was entirely unshaken by the compliment, far too focused on his own movement to hear her flirt. With her, and a spying Dipper as witnessed, he tried to dance. Jerky, uncontrolled, and rather goofy looking with his taller, skinny body, Yuki promptly made a fool of himself. Pacifica smiled and shook her head, wrapping an arm around his, and pulling him upright. "You look crazy!" she laughed.
Yuki grinned, and nodded. "I do a much better ballroom dance. I had some time to observe and practice it myself," he told her. Pacifica gasped as Yuki grasped her other hand with his own, placed her arm on his back and his arm around her waist, and began to, while remixed horror movie music played, slow danced with her. Pacifica, despite being able to keep up with him in her 'sexy secretary werewolf' costume, couldn't help it. She burst out laughing, dancing with him through the crowd elegantly.
"They're awfully cute together," a voice next to Dipper said. Dipper turned and found Melody next to him, staring at the slow dancers. "You know those two?" she asked to Dipper.
"That's one of..." Dipper stared at Yuki and grinned, realizing a truth for the alien he had known for only a month, "my best friends. And that's Pacifica. She's crushing on him."
"Oh yeah," Melody nodded with a smile, "I mean, are you kidding me?" she chuckled, "Ballroom dancing to a upbeat mix like this?" she chortled and turned back to Soos, "Hey buddy!" she called, instantly catching Soos' attention, "Give it something a little slower!"
Soos nodded. "Okay guys, this is going to be for you out there feeling the vibe to dance at a... romantic daze," Soos said to the microphone. He flipped a few switches, and the upbeat music was changed to a slower pace, and soon, more people were dancing like Yuki and Pacifica. Dipper snorted, and another hand wrapped around his shoulder, as Mabel leapt before him, grinning.
"Zander wants me to be part of all the party planning for now on!" Mabel grinned, bouncing up and down, "I'm going to work with Pacifica and him to get all the holidays together so we can, you know, do stuff!"
"Sweet," Dipper grinned.
"Dude, not just sweet: rocking tooth-ache sweet!" Mabel told him and jumped onto his neck, forcing him to catch her as she squealed, "The kind where I get to see the absolute prettiest man alive like constantly!" she leapt off him, and ran off, bounding towards Pacifica and Yuki. Dipper rolled his eyes and stepped away.
Watching the party that was a creation of him and his sister was something to behold. Granted, he hadn't personally brought all these people to Zanders place, but he had gotten all of them here, just as he had planned. Sitting down on the tombstone, Dipper sighed and stretched his neck. A hand reached around, and as he turned to see the person in question, he was yanked down behind the stone with a yelp.
"Dipper!"
As Dipper looked up at the night sky from the ground, red hair fell past his face, and shaking green eyes stared into his soul.
"Wendy," he grunted, feeling her hand pinning down to the ground. "Could you let go?" he asked. She did so, and Dipper fell to the side, dirt and grass caressing his face as his dark robe fell around him.
Wendy looked panicked. "Dipper, what the heck are you thinking?" she demanded.
"What?" he asked.
"I go to one place during Halloween and Summerween. One place! I told you to leave me alone, so you come back with, like, a hundred people!?" she demanded. "The heck!"
"I'm pretty sure it's not exactly a hundred," Dipper shrugged.
"Dipper-"
"Okay, okay, look," Dipper held his hands up to her, meager attempt at calming her, "And listen, okay?"
"Why? Why should I?" she demanded, "I asked one thing from you, and you totally went back and backstabbed me!" she stood up from him, huffing as her face went red. She spun away, walking towards the darkness.
"Because it's your only chance!" Dipper called after her.
Wendy whipped around, furrowing her eyebrows. "What?" she demanded.
"I'm telling you now, if I didn't know what had happened to you," Dipper said, standing and walking to her calmly, looking her fully in the eyes, "And I didn't know what I do about ghosts, I would be certain that they came out two times during the year: Summerween and Halloween. Don't you see?" Dipper told her, walking directly up to her, realizing he was her height now, "This is your chance to get in a party like that and no one will think any different of you."
Wendy looked at him. Her eyes widened as she turned and looked at the newly strung up lights. "They'll thing I'm a ghost," Wendy held her arms tightly.
"So? Today is they day that's okay. Right?" Dipper asked her. She looked away, and Dipper growled. He took one of her hands and held it. Only when she broke her determined stare and turned back to Dipper did he continue, "They came to this graveyard under the promise from Mabel and I that ghosts were walking around. They may not be ready for it, but they all okay with the idea you're here."
"Dipper, I-"
"Wendy," Dipper said, holding her other hand, looking into her bright green eyes. "C'mon. Do me a favor?" he asked her, "Trust me."
Wendy pursed her lips. All she could do was stare back into those deep brown eyes, flicking in the candlelight around them. As Dipper watched her, he added with a soft smile, "And I promise not to bring any attention to you. Just you and me, out there."
Wendy loosed up a little. "Yeah?"
Dipper laughed. Without a second thought, he drew his closed fingers across his mouth, and tossed the imaginary zipper. Wendy blinked. A watery smile later, she mimed him and nodded. She would let Dipper walk her out.
With a sigh to steady his own shaking nerves, Dipper turned and lead her out into the open. Passing several people standing by the sides of the lights, Dipper lead her right into the dance crowd and turned to her.
"Ugh. Doing the slow stuff still," Dipper rolled his eyes as people still danced around slowly.
"Could do with a bit of a tune up, huh?" Wendy asked him quietly as they rocked back and forth together.
"You're telling me," Dipper chuckled, "I love Melody, but her idea made this all formal and weird," Dipper chuckled.
Wendy snickered and nodded. "Oh!" she gasped, "That's right! Melody is here!" she exclaimed, looking towards the booth, where the woman of Soos's heart stood. "Aww, she looks awesome."
"You could go tell her," Dipper suggested.
"No way. I'm barely okay just being here," Wendy shook her head, "This is crazy enough for me." Dipper stared at her. Something about the way she was moving, so close to him and nervously looking around made him think of something. Then he remembered why it felt familiar. He held back his laughter as best he could. Wendy eyed him. "Huh?" Wendy asked, "What's funny?"
"Nothing," he poorly tried assuring her.
"Liar," she poked his shoulder gently, "What is it?"
"It's stupid," he told her.
"Sounds like I'll love it," she told him. After a moment of consideration, Dipper surrendered to her wishes and explained.
"It's just, uh, that three years ago, during that party where Stan charged people to leave?" Dipper asked, and Wendy chuckled and nodded, "I just had this crazy notion- a fantasy, you know? Where you and me would be slow dancing in this stupid romantic thing, and I'd be tall as you-" Wendy stared at him as Dipper began to laugh, "And Soos would be providing music in the background!"
"You were an adorable kid, weren't you?" Wendy told him with a grin as Dipper calmed down. "You've grown up better, though," she added.
His face heated up and he looked away. "Nah. If someone should be talking about looks, it should be me about you," Dipper managed to say. Then he felt a twinge in his stomach. That was too far. "Sorry," he shook his head, "That was- I was just-"
"Dipper, dude," Wendy told him with a small giggle, "Chill."
Dipper felt his gaze soften and the focus of the world went hazy. She was so close to him now, staring back at him. There were so many things going through his head, so many questions and concerns; and all were just muted noise that drifted through his brain like lost points to an argument he no longer cared for. He opened his mouth to speak to Wendy, and-
"Dipper!" Mabel roared as she bounded through the party, spinning him around with her eyes wide and shimmering with sugar high, "I have eaten so much can– oh Wendy! You showed up! Yesh! You should come-"
Mabel's appearance had instantly caused a hush over the crowd. Nearly fifty people had spun in Dipper and Mabel's direction. They stared at the redhead with wide, frightened eyes. The heat of nearly five dozen stares began to cook at Dipper as he felt the pressure of the world resting on his shoulders. Then he turned to Wendy. Her face nearly matched her hair in color; beet red and screwed up in fear.
Something about Wendy being frightened drove a nail into Dipper's soul. He was plunged deep with courage. "What?" Dipper called out after a long pause. The eyes flickered onto him. "You've never seen a redhead before or something?"
"And a pretty one at that!?" Mabel added, waving a gummy stick at the crowd.
"What's going on?" Zander had pushed his way through, his face serious as he found the entire group focused on the three. "Oh. Hi again, Wendy," Zander waved to her. "What's going on? Did someone fart over here, or something?"
"She's a ghost!" someone shouted.
"Who?" Zander asked with a chuckle.
"I... am," Wendy stepped closer to him. Zander whipped around, his eyes popping out in awe. Wendy meagerly offered, "I'm sorry," as she shrugged.
Zander sounded like he choked for a moment. "Sorry?! Are you kidding me!?" Zander said with high energy as he stepped closer, "I've got the coolest party in Summerween existence and you want to apologize for making it that way!?"
"Huh?" the twins and Wendy asked.
"Guys!" Zander called to the rest of the crowds, "We've got a real, live, ghost who heard how awesome our party is!" The entire party whipped around. Wendy gasped and spun. There was nowhere to flee to. Zander added, "That has to be the coolest thing on the face of the planet, right?!" Zander encouraged the crowd.
Like magic, the feeling of those around the twins and Wendy flipped. They cheered and hollered, just as enthused as their ringleader about the prospect. Through the same pumped crowd though, a cluster of figures popped out.
"Wendy?!"
"T-Tambry," Wendy gasped as Tambry nearly fell out into the clearing. She was then followed by Thompson, Nate, and then Lee; all of Wendy's friends she had claimed to have fallen out of. She stood there, her lips trembling as her friends stared at her.
"Oh my god, Wendy!" Tambry gasped and rushed forward, grabbing Wendy around the neck in a heavy embrace. "I've missed you so much!"
"Wendy!" said the boys, rushing forward as well, crushing the redhead with a hug-like tackle.
Dipper stepped aside with Mabel as the dance party continued, now at a steady, upbeat pace. Wendy's old friends hugged her tightly, each begging and vying to get her attention. She soon was laughing and hugging them back, overwhelmed by their attention and love, something she clearly had thought never to see again.
The twins smiled. They had done something good, really good, for someone.
Zander had stepped next to the twins. "Nice job you two," Zander leaned over to Dipper and Mabel.
"Huh?" Dipper spun as Mabel skipped in place, "You're the one that saved all that mess."
He held out a hand, indicating towards Wendy. "This was your idea, you two," Zander told them with a hearty smile, "I had no idea she was... anything other than a person, but you made this her night," he told them as the three watched Wendy cry with joy. "You gave her a chance to see her friends without terrifying them. Well, at least scaring them within reason. Nice job giving someone hope."
Zander turned and left the twins be, staring his way to Soos and Melody.
"Dipper," Mabel stepped up to him, her eyes unfocused, "I'm glad you were right. Again."
"Heh. Me too," Dipper shrugged. With a glance back to Wendy, celebrating with her friends, Dipper smiled and looked back to his sister. Reckless abandon was something he could seem himself doing now. "Show me the candy!" he demanded of her.
An hour passed as Dipper and Mabel truly celebrated with their friends and comrades. The night sky slowly darkened further, and the party slowly wrapped itself up. As people faded, one by one, or group by group, a storm was coming and everyone wanted home. Zander was helped by Soos and Melody to pack everything that was rented. The rest, as Zander put it, could be trashed.
"One of the perks of being rich, I guess," Zander shrugged, "But if anyone wants all that candy, they are more than-"
Grenda and Candy rushed forward and literally lifted the table.
"By bloodline I claim rights!" Candy declared in her small voice.
"Alrighty then," Zander nodded to them.
"You're sure you got the rest?" Dipper asked Zander as he, Soos and Melody started walking down the street with Pacifica and Yuki. "Mabel and I could help still."
"No," Zander turned and glanced behind Dipper, "I've got this under control. Besides," Zander spun about and started off, "You'll want to wrap things up."
Turning back around to the Hill, Dipper saw Wendy. She was saying goodbye to her friends one at a time. They each wore the expression appropriate at her funeral. There had never been, according to Wendy, a proper funeral. Without a body accounted for, her father had just ordered the grave built. So, after three years of not seeing her, Wendy's friends had a chance to catch up, they had their chances to grieve. Dipper supposed they expected this to be their last goodbye to Wendy.
After a few minutes of quiet, the four friends walked down the hill, passing Dipper without a word. Staring at the ghostly figure on the hill, Dipper managed a half smile. Wendy let her friends grow distant before also climbing down.
"Told them that I couldn't leave the graveyard," she explained with a sigh, "One of those 'magical night' explanations. Can't leave my body behind, or something like that."
"They handled it really well," Dipper admitted.
"Considering the last time they met a ghost? Yes," Wendy smiled and chuckled, "But then again, I wasn't haunting them as much as I was catching up and dancing with them. Totally different things."
"Absolutely," Dipper nodded and grinned. "So, are they going to come visit now? Or can you go talk to them whenever?" Dipper asked. The light in Wendy's eye faded and she looked up to the sky.
"No... just because they took it well... I shouldn't press my luck, Dipper," she shrugged. "I got a night with them, and that's more than I ever thought I would again."
Dipper smiled. "You sure you wouldn't want to just tell them what happened?"
"And let them hate Robbie even more?" she reminded him.
"Wouldn't the worst thing in the world," Dipper shrugged.
Despite a laugh, Wendy shook her head. "Dipper, I'm fine with this. I'd rather not give them all hope that they'll see me like this forever. I got… I got one more night with them. I have you to thank for," she added with a smile so warm Dipper's heart felt like it had become a puddle of goop.
"No... Wendy, what I did earlier?" Dipper shook his head, "Not... asking you about your secret-"
"Dude," Wendy rolled her eyes and put a finger to his lips, instantly cutting off whatever he had to say, "Chill." Dipper's entire body trembled as she stared into his eyes. He wanted to peer back into those green orbs, desperate to see that light for a very, very long time.
"I'm glad to have known you, Dipper," Wendy suddenly blurted out.
"Wha- me too," Dipper replied after a nervous chuckle, "I mean, to have known you. Not known me, I know me, and I wouldn't- uh, you know what I-"
Wendy leaned forward just a few inches and Dipper felt his lips touched by something softer than his wildest dreams. He couldn't bear to close his eyes, or else he would have imagined this; it would have been a dream; a strange, long tantalizing dream. Her closed eyelids were directly before him. This was real.
Wendy kissed him.
"That's a goodnight, and goodbye, kiss for you, buddy," she said as she pulled back and gently looked into his eyes. Dipper nodded numbly, unable to do little else. With a giggle, Wendy patted the side of his head, turned, and walked off.
Only then did Dipper come to, and realize what she had said. "Wait, you need a place to stay!" Dipper shouted, as thunder rumbled overhead. Wendy waved over her shoulder, vanishing into the woods across the street. "Wendy!" Dipper called, "What did you mean by goodbye?!"
Wendy was gone.
Staring after the memory of her running from him, Dipper wobbled in place. He finally found his ground, but he gulped as he slowly put a hand to his lips. They still were numb. Or maybe they had always felt this way. He couldn't tell. Everything he had known about what it was to feel had changed there and then. There was a new level of feelings he had just reached to, like a new tier of existence.
She, the great, uncatchable, the coolest, the chillest, the... prettiest girl Dipper had laid his eyes onto and dreamed about had kissed him. Dipper thought, as his brain made him; had the curse ever happened, would this night have come to be? Would Wendy have ever been so close to Dipper that... she would have done that?
As horrible as it was, Dipper gave the curse a tiny nod in thanks. Without it, Dipper wouldn't have had the chance to lighten up Wendy's life.
Now he had a new purpose- now he had more than just mysteries to solve.
He had a girl's curse to lift.
"Dipper!"
Dipper roared and leapt into the air as Mabel appeared next to him, grinning. A new moustache and beard had been placed on her face, and she beamed widely at the heavily breathing boy.
"You done staring off after her?" she asked with a cackle.
"Shuddup," Dipper growled as Mabel began to skip down the street, with Dipper in tow.
"You just wanted to stare after her butt, didn't you?"
"No! Shut up, Mabel."
"You did!"
"I'll push you, I swear."
"Didja like the kiss?"
"You saw that?!"
"Duhhhh. Was watching and listening the entire time. I'm a ninja, Dipper. But you were stupid looking the entire time. You ended up looking like a goldfish with-"
Mabel's tease was cut short as Dipper made a dash to catch her. With a maddening cackle, Mabel Pines darted forward, forcing her brother to do his best catching up. As a pair of twins rushed down the streets and through the woods late into the night, the night of Summerween began to boil and bubble. A storm was coming.
Yet, with all the coming danger and distress, at least this one night was clear of dread. The residents of the town of Gravity Falls, whom slept during the night, would all rest their eyes and heads of candy rushes and adrenalin rushes alike, and meet the sweet rest of dreams and delights.
After all, the other half of summer was yet to come.
And the Mid-season finale is done! BOOM, BANG, SLISH, SLASH! What's a slish? God if I know!
So there you all have it. The burning question of I have no idea how many is finally answered. Wendy- the girl who would not stop being cool revealed fully at last. But that's not all that's happened here, was it? But that IS what you all were looking for. Or... at least the big commotion. Something along those lines.
And mid-season finale? Does that mean we still have ten more episodes before the end of season two!? HECK YES IT DOES. And for those of you that have enjoyed the serious chapters, get used to it. This second half starts going downhill and into realms not charted in the original series. Hope the rest of you are up for it.
No random death this authors note either! :p Summerween is my survival time! WOOH!
And remember, June 23 is Summerween- mark it on your calenders. This year it's a Tuesday.
HAPPY SUMMERWEEN!
-EZB
Rain poured and thunder crashed as Zander Maximillion closed the front door to his house. Soos and Melody had just left with the others, having dropped off the equipment and then departed. They would be dropping off Yuki, Pacifica, Candy, and Grenda to all their respective locations. Zander removed his hat to the side, letting it spin to the ground. He glanced to the kitchen as he tossed out his fangs and jacket.
He chuckled. "About time it got some use," he smiled, still looking at his kitchen. Then he turned and ascended the stairs. As he climbed up, his smile faded and the rare sight of Zander Maximillion without a grin or smile presented himself. He looked very tired and worn.
Still removing articles of clothing, he landed the top stair and turned down the hallway. His bedroom was the first door on the left, yet he pushed forward. The bathroom was the second door to the right, and he skipped it as well. In an unbuttoned shirt and undone tie, wearing only boots and pants, Zander stopped at the barren wall at the end of the hallway. Crown molding in the corner stood out, and he turned to one such piece of molding.
A large knob stuck out from the ceiling corner. Reaching up, he twisted the knob. Loud mechanical gears churned and groaned, and finally Zander pushed a button in the center. The blank wall before him hissed.
Then it split open, and slid aside, letting light flood his face. Before him was a private room, nearly the size of his bedroom. Stepping inside, he passed two large tables, covered with tons of newspapers, various articles highlighted and annotated. News about sightings of certain monsters, lights in the sky, ghosts, every form of strange from all over the USA had been gathered, and not all the papers were recent. Many showed signs of age. Zander passed one and his presence knocked it to the floor. There, in the light, the date read 'Nineteen Fifty Seven'.
Next to a large metal dresser with an electronic pass code, a massive red curtain was hung before the end of the room. Zander reached up, and with a firm grip pulled it aside.
The entire wall was covered in red string and pictures. It was a string theory of the town, and people in the town. There was the police force, the sheriff and deputy, currently all tired together. They were tied to a picture of an angry blond man, labeled 'Graupner Kinley'. The Warlock's picture was tied to several others, but that was not where Zander's hand went to.
He reached up and quickly found the Mystery Shack, which had its second name crossed out and replaced with 'Manor'. It was tied to all the possible inhabitants: Stanley Pines, Soos Ramirez, the Pines Twins, and then Wendy Corduroy. Under Wendy's name was the word underlined in red 'Undead?'. Zander lifted a red pen from a small table, and quickly crossed out the word undead. In its place, just by her face, he wrote down a single word – wraith.
"So," he said to himself as he capped the pen, "There is another."
Zander shook his head, and then put his finger back to the picture of Wendy. From there, he traced it back to Stan. Stan's face had a series of bulletins and questions:
'Lost brother?'
'Knows more than he says. '
'Hiding something big.'
From Stan's image, Zander traced his finger to the Mystery Manor. It too had bulletins.
'Location is too coincidental.'
'Hides a big secret. But What?'
Then tracing his finger, Zander put his next placement on the woods of Gravity Falls. The ambiguous picture no notation to it, and oddity to the rest of the collected pictures scattered around the large wall. From that, a single line cast up, an imagine of a large, glowing stone. No name was written on the stone. Yet his eyes bore a resemblance of familiarity as he looked at the image.
Zander squinted. There was one more string that led up from the glowing rock. Zander stared at the picture and frowned. A picture of an ancient, poorly kept hieroglyph as the last connecting dot stood triumphantly in the middle of it all. One way or another, all the red strings lead to this last, center pieced picture. The hieroglyph in question was that of a triangle, with a single eye, two spindly arms and legs, and a top hat. Next to the image of Bill Cipher, there was a single question of a word:
'Source?'
Zander frowned as he eyed the centerpiece. "How, though?" he asked.
A very loud crash of thunder stirred Zander from staring at the center picture. He scowled when he turned and stared at the empty hallway behind him. Somewhere in the distance, barely audible under the pitter of rain, sirens were blaring. Without another word, Zander spun around and closed the curtain. He marched out of the room, turning the lights off this time as the hidden doors sealed shut behind him.
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20-8-5 23-1-18-12-15-3-11 5-19-3-1-16-5-4