To say that the four had become speechless was an understatement. It had been seemingly forever since the butler had stepped into the room, his polished, hard soled shoes clattering loudly against the wooden floor. With a duster in one hand and a towel in the other, he had, regardless of their stares, begun to dust and clean the entirety of the room. Books were dusted, and the wood of the shelves were wiped down. While the cleaning itself was meager, it was the result that terrified the watchers.
The books, even rotten ones, when dusted, slowly grew to become whole again. The rotted pages of the tomes and journals filling up and become perky as standard paper should. The bent and broken shelves of the library slowly creaked and bent themselves straight. Color flushed into the dead wood, and polish flashed across the touched surfaces.
"Okay, either this is the curse causing us to hallucinate," Dipper gulped, "Or we've got something a bit more complicated going on," he admitted with a hush.
"Like what?" Wendy asked.
"A haunting," Mabel said, her eyes wide. "And we just did deal with mister ghosty-Knight."
"It's even more complicated than that," Dipper admitted, and slowly turned from the Butler. The dark skinned, bald man in a classy suit paid them no mind as he went about the room, rejuvenating the surfaces and objects that resided around. He bent closer to the four, and quietly asked Wendy, "Wendy, can you tell if it's a ghost or not?"
"Ohhh yeah," she stiffly nodded, "An apparition alright."
Mabel, staring at Wendy, reminded her, "You've never explained how you do that, you know?"
Soos was quick to answer with, "Mysterious red-head vision."
Wendy snickered. "I can just tell certain things. When I look at something and I know it should be a certain way, I can tell if it isn't. Being undead like me makes it really hard to… be lied to. I pick up on differences."
"And what's different about him?" Dipper asked.
"Aside from the fact that clearly this place is abandoned?" Wendy retorted with a smirk, "Well, he's not breathing, and I haven't heard him blink since he came in. Aside from that, I can kind of see ghost-trails wherever he goes," she noted, turning back to stare at him for a quick moment.
"Well, if he's a ghost," Dipper retrieved the journal, "This actually makes our problem kind of easier."
"Yeah! 'Cus Wendy aint afraid of them," Soos noted.
"Helpful, but not my point," Dipper shrugged.
"I await to be proven otherwise," Soos squinted at Dipper.
Dipper flipped opened his own journal to a page. There, a multi-page spread on the spectral undead were displayed before them. Dipper moved his finger to a certain section and begun to read aloud. "Ahem, 'Ghosts are the spiritual deceased that continue past their death in spectral form. They almost always have a reason for remaining, and this makes dealing with them a mixed blessing. Ghosts come in many types and powers, from the measly level one, or just the residual energy of a person who has yet to be exorcised, to the Pain Phantom – a level six terror, or the unthinkable rage and emotional baggage of a level ten.' Sounds about right," Dipper grunted, his mind reflecting upon their interactions with level ten ghosts.
"So, what's the level of that ghost?" Soos asked, pointing to the Butler, who had moved over a ladder to reach the small, oil-lit chandelier in the center of the room.
"Uh, with only Wendy's word that he's a ghost," Dipper shrugged, "I have no idea. You tend to be able to tell with a ghost's power when you see their abilities first-hand. I don't think Ford's old notes on undead ever covered the undead repairing things. That could be high? Mid-high?" Dipper began to guess.
Mabel, frowning as she watched the butler work, asked, "Do we just ask him politely to display his ghostly powers? I could be super cool about it."
"No," Dipper whipped to her and shook his head. "Ghosts often don't even know their dead. Look at the poltergeist this summer," Dipper argued.
"He was a tulpa-ghost though," Mabel debated, "Does that count?"
Dipper sighed. "Well, technically speaking, as a manifestation of wishing-energy, a tulpa counts as both, while being neither. It is because of the unique nature of-"
Entertained but rushed, Wendy cut in with a, "Pseudo-science lesson later, please."
"Sorry," Dipper said, "Ghosts don't tend to always know. But if someone frightens them by telling them that they are dead, they can lash out with all their energies at once. It could be catastrophic."
Mabel grumbled, "Aww, but I bet I could dodge a wave of ghost-power."
Wendy held up her hand, "Hold up, I got this," she nodded. She then turned, and walked towards the butler on the stairs.
"Wait! Wendy!" Dipper hissed.
"Oh boy, this is either going to be the scariest, best, or worst thing we'll see all day so far," Soos said, shivering as he watched. "Get behind me," he said to the twins, dragging them behind him, "just in case of 'ghost explosion'."
Wendy approached the dusting figure, and gently wrapped the side of the ladder. With a casual lean, the butler looked down and at her. She smiled and nodded. "Hey man," she waved, "Look, from one undead to another, you know you're a ghost, right?"
"Quite so," he nodded, and then went back to cleaning.
"Thanks," she gave him a quick thumbs up, and walked back to her friends. "See?" she asked to the shocked and widely dropped mouths before her, "Just gotta be cool about it."
Pouting, Mabel proudly said, "I could have pulled that off."
"Great, so he's a ghost," Dipper sighed, "That means the case of a curse is actually probably a severe case of haunting. Curses can, after all, be mistaken for-"
The man came down the ladder slowly, but cleared his throat as he did. "I do believe I asked for a brief period of solitude. I would like to work on this room's cleaning without interruption?" he asked, his greying eyebrows raised.
"Oh, err," Dipper nodded, "Sorry."
"We'll take this outside, man," Wendy waved to him, pushing out Dipper with Soos and Mabel.
"Thank you, and again, apologies," he candidly said as he continued to move about, re-placing books on shelves and dusting them.
As Wendy closed the door behind them, Mabel was knocked into by another induvial. She yelped as Dipper and Soos jumped aside, looking to her. A maid of light tan skin stumbled by her. "So sorry, madam," the woman stated, her green and silver skirt a ruffle, "Big pardon."
"No problem! Apology twice accepted!" Mabel cheerfully waved after the woman, who bowed and nodded back at her. "Aww, so sweet-" Dipper and Soos bounded back next to Mabel, looking down the hallways. Mabel coughed, "Ack! Bro, your hat is in my nose. What's going-"
She then looked around and realized that the hallways were very inhabited.
Dozens of maids, male and female, darted to and fro around the hallway. Out of doors, and around the corners, nearly a dozen figures in old, green, and silver striped outfits stepped around them.
"Wendy?" Dipper slowly leaned back.
"These are spookums?" Soos gulped as he asked.
"Ohh yeah," Wendy whispered as she nodded, "Every… single… one of them."
"It's a Spectral Jamboree!" Mabel declared with excitement.
Dipper grumbled. He observed their efforts and found himself nearly hypnotized. Just as the Butler in the library, the efforts of the maids and attendants were to repair and refurnish. The worn paint on the walls, when washed with their washcloths, would re-appear; bright and vibrant as the day they were painted. The splintered, rotting wood of the walls would grow brighter and vibrant. The fallen, rotting sheets of curtain would float back up and slide themselves onto their metal holsters.
"So, do this many ghosts usually come together?" Soos asked, "Or is this sort of like a retiree home for spooks?"
With a happy giggle, Mabel told Soos, "Soos, ghosts don't retire."
"Or, you haven't met one that has yet," Soos rebuked. Mabel opened her mouth, but remained silent.
"Ghosts don't tend to 'flock' together," Dipper said, looking down the hallway, ensuring that none of the maids were listening in, "Ghosts that are nearby tend to be so because of one of two reasons – either they died closer together, or what brings them together is nearby."
Wendy nodded, "Right, the 'ghosts have reasons for what they do' sort of thing."
"Exactly," Dipper said. "The thing is, if there are this many ghosts already, we're kind of un-prepared."
"But we have the cooking stuff," Soos said, lifting up the salt shaker and bundle of herbs.
"That would only really help if the ghosts wanted to be calmed down," Dipper noted, "That stuff is better for clearing out bad juju, like, say, a curse."
With a dreadful realization, Wendy demanded, "Wait, this doesn't really work against these guys? Are we basically unarmed?"
"Let me ask you, would it work against you?" Dipper asked. Wendy looked at him, and then reached inside his vest with a blur. Aside from a flash of hot as Dipper felt his face grow warm, he gasped. "H-Hey!" he clamored. Wendy then retrieved his water gun, and sprayed her face.
"Hehehe," Mabel leaned into Dipper and whispered, "Bet you wish you could see Wendy wet more often–" Wendy, glaring at Mabel, squirted her face with the watergun. "Ack! Drats! Oh, darn me," Mabel snapped her fingers, "Super hearing!"
"Yup," Wendy grinned at Mabel, and then handed Dipper back the toy. She examined herself, and then told the three, "No harm. So, no, we're not at all equipped for this."
Coming to a similar conclusion, Dipper announced to his sister and friends, "Well, unless we want to use this bottle to declare war against every single one of these ghosts at the same time, which then we'd run out of water, we need to go back and get more supplies."
"Wait, we need to fight these guys?" Mabel asked, "I thought if we just give them what they want, they go away?"
"Imagine giving every single ghost here their individual want," Dipper retorted. "We'd be here so long we'd become the newest additions to the mansion."
"Not that it's an option for me," Wendy sniffed.
"So, we go back to the cars, get some Dooditos, get some anti-ghost stuff," Soos re-iterated, "Maybe take a power-nap, and then come and show these ghosts who the real bosses are?"
Not in disagreement with the plan, Dipper offered, "Of the four things, at least two are happening. Let's go."
Stepping past the present maids, who made sure to move aside for the four, the four made their way down the hall. While Dipper was in the front, he saw the miraculous and incredible changes to the Mansion. It was now almost entirely restored. What few things needed to change were minor- crooked paintings, spilled flower vases, and chairs pulled out in the open- all of which were being restored to their proper location.
In the Foyer, a large picture hung above the door, one they had not seen before. Either it had rotten so terribly with the passing of time or its position above the front doors had been cast in shadow, but the new light of the indoor lamps cast it into focus. Standing below it, while marveling its image, was a man. He turned to them, and the four gasped and slid to a stop.
"Guests? So early?" he asked, a warm smile about his face. "Welcome," he nodded to them approaching. He wore a tailed jacket of gold, silver, and green splendor. His black hair fell with small curls along the sides of his head, and his gentle blue eyes surveyed the four. While youthful in appearance, his walk and gait, along with the careful stare, betrayed a man of great experience or age. "I am Edward Gracey. I'm so sorry to say you've come a tad too early for the festivities. Clearly, we are, uh, still getting ready," he said with a look behind them.
Dipper had paused before the man. Eyes wide, he asked, "What was your name?"
"Edward. Edward Gracey," he bowed before them.
Mable giggled and bowed as well. "A pleasure, master Gracey."
The man held up a hand to Mabel. "Oh, come. I am your host this evening," Edward smiled to her, "Just Edward, please." Mabel giggled even harder.
"So, Ed," Soos said, bowing to him briefly, "Uh, you're aware that, like, ghosts and stuff are everywhere on your island, right?" Wendy nudged his back hard. "Huh?" he looked to Wendy. Dipper heard them lean in together.
"He's one too," Wendy whispered.
"…Ohh," Soos nodded, looking back to a confused looking man. "Nevermind everything I just said. I meant to not say that. To you. Ever."
"Ah, of course," the man looked from one to another. "I must say, I wasn't aware that your parents would have let you come unattended so early," he said, looking to Mabel and Dipper, "And in such attire."
"Our mom's really liberal about stuff like clothes and things," Mabel shrugged, and she held up her two fingers in a pinch, "I was this close to convincing her to own an alpaca farm."
"Sir," Dipper stepped closer, "We were actually just about to leave. We're, uh, unprepared and underdressed for your occasion."
"Oh, goodness, please," Edward Gracey held his chest, "I meant no offense. This evening is not about formalities!"
"It isn't?" Dipper asked.
"No, such a thing has come and passed. This is a truly celebratory night!" Gracey cried around, his voice echoing about in the Foyer. "Good times are now upon us. Any and all that are my families' friends are welcome to come, however they dress, whenever they wish!" he said to Dipper.
The teenager stared at him. While, for modern times, Dipper knew that what Gracey was saying was more or less acceptable, to hear that coming from a ghost of a by-gone age was something shocking. No one, even the least conservative man of his time would look at someone who he deemed with 'ill-suited attire' in a party, but allow them to stay. It was weird, and it was weird considering he was talking to a ghost.
"You're certainly open about it," Dipper noted.
With a sullen note, the man wrung his hands together. "Ah, well, when dark times have fallen upon my family," Gracey looked past them and to the balcony. Dipper turned, along with Wendy, who glanced over her shoulder.
A woman stood on the balcony, her hands resting on the railing as she looked down to them. She was a blond girl, with large blue eyes, and had a body that could kill. Even with her last-century floral dress, she was a looker. Her curvy, almost athletic body, swayed from side to side as she stared down at them, and Dipper and Wendy looked back up at her.
Dipper noted Wendy whip around and away from the woman, her eyes wide and her lips drawn thin. Wendy looked a little past upset. Something she had seen about the woman above paralyzed her. As Dipper went to ask her what was wrong, Edward Gracey spoke up.
"No, I enjoy having my guests over, but I get the impression, as it seems you've been directed back to the Foyer," he stated with a small grin, "You do not know your way around my home."
"Why, no!" Mabel gasped, "We're totally new to your wonderful mansion!"
"And to the area. Heck, this side of the country," Soos elaborated. "And time zone. Still getting used to that," And he gave a large yawn as his belly puffed out.
"Well then, why don't I give you a tour!" he exclaimed excitedly, "Most whom I know are attending are intimate with the estate, and I would to have the wonder of my home reflected in your eyes."
"Uhh," Dipper looked to Mabel, pulling her to look back at him. Yet he spoke aloud and clearly to the ghostly owner of the land, he looked to his sister. "I don't know, sir. We were kind of in a hurry to grab our stuff."
"Dipper," Mabel wrenched herself free, "Don't be rude!"
Wendy blurted out urgently, "'I'm with Dipper on this one. We should go."
"Please," Edward stepped closer, and outstretched a hand, "I insist. I would love to show you around."
Mabel looked to the others. Her stern glare was met by three uncertain ones. To say that their suspicions were unfounded wasn't true, but thus far, any actual negativity the ghosts had displayed had been minimal. Truthfully, though Dipper never spoke this aloud, the ghosts had been only constructive. They spent their time re-building the mansion and avoiding the new four rather than instigating any terrible hauntings. Of the times to let himself trust a spirit, now may be the time.
With a heavy sigh, Dipper nodded. "Take us for a walk, Mister Edward."
He beamed, flashing his stark white grin. "Please, let me show you to the library." He walked around them becoming them to follow.
"We were actually just-" Soos started, but Dipper elbowed him, "Ah, what dude?" Soos blinked, rubbing his bellow said they followed, "What'd I say?"
Dipper told him quickly, "If we're really going to go on this tour, we should let him guide us around. There's a chance he'll give us some insight about what we're dealing with."
"Also, he has great style," Mabel chirped. "Got to love a guy who can dress like that."
"He looks like pirate," Soos noted. When Mabel gave him a critical stare, he added, "And that's a good thing."
Following carefully, watching the staff of the mansion continue to re-build the mansion around them, the four listened as Edward Gracey explained his home.
"Built in early 1839, this house was the jewel of my family's wealth and good fortune," Edward explained, stepping backward as he led them down his hallway, "Our relations with England's families after the war of 1812 allowed us to capitalize much more so on trade. Since then, I have come to inherit this home, as will my daughter and her spouse."
"You have a wife?" Mabel asked, her brow creasing.
"Had," he said softly, and turned toward a door, pushing it open. The library inside revealed the Butler and his work. As Edward Gracey stepped inside, the Butler bowed. "Ah, Ramsey," he nodded, "Don't mind our guests, they're having a look around."
"As they should," the Butler said, looking directly at Dipper. The gaze was so intense, Dipper felt his neck stiffen, and he gulped. The butler told them all, "Such a place of history, some things you must look harder for."
The master laughed. "Your words are a puzzle, dear friend," Gracey chuckled.
"Aren't we all," the Butler retorted.
"Now, this library," Edward waved his hand above him, "The prime collection of literary works. A large collection of fantastic and terrible tales."
"Terrible?" Wendy asked.
"My wife's collection, mostly," he sighed, "She had a fascination with ghost stories."
Soos snorted, and clapped his hands to his mouth. "Sorry," he shook his head, "It's totally not ironic."
"Ah, right," Edward Gracey looked around, and noted that one of the shelves closest to him. "Blast. Ramsey," he said, turning to the Butler who continued to stare at Dipper, "We're missing one. See if you can't find it before the guests notice."
"I will most certainly try," the Butler said, glaring at Dipper. Dipper took a wide step behind Soos in response.
The master of the estate idly chose a book, "But I am certain that your interest aren't in books," and laughed as he rifled through the pages, "Or my boorish journal entries."
Dipper shrugged. "Well…"
Wendy lifted a finger. "Ahh…"
Mabel leapt up. "More! More! Let's see more!"
Soos leaned closer. "There's going to be food at some point, yeah?"
Edward Gracey smiled. "Naturally, food will accompany the festivities."
"Yesh," Soos thrust his fist up and gave his arm a quick pump. "Let's do this!"
"Now, this way," Gracey asked. Passing through the room's interior to the door, the master of the estate opened the double doors to the main hallway. "To the Ballroom, where the night's more prominent events will be held."
Down the hallway silently the group walked. Taking a right turn and moving at a brisk, even pace, Master Gracey smiled and patted the shoulders of many of his servants, crediting them for their work on his home. Dipper lagged back slightly, staring at the clear cases of magic happening around him. Flowers growing before his eyes rapidly out of vases brought new splashes of white and pink into the hallways. Dipper glanced out as they passed the windows. More of the workers had begun to appear outdoors, making their numbers… a whole lot.
"There's a whole lot of them," Dipper gulped quietly.
"As long as we don't upset them, this should be okay," Wendy reminded him, "No starting fights."
"I don't intend to," Dipper stated. "We're treading on ice, standing above fireworks, with a pit of acid-snakes under that."
"So, all sorts of screwed if worst comes to worst?" She asked.
"I think so," Dipper gulped.
"I'm worried though," Wendy said, looking around.
"Why?" Dipper aside. "Aside from doom on our threshold."
"It's," she then frowned, thinking on her words. As they walked, she tried to explain, "I thought I'd be able to tell when a ghost is able to appear. I could sense the poltergeist this summer fairly well. These ones… I don't know," Wendy said, "It's like I can't tell where they are until they're in front of me. Like… that stupid cool senses thing I have doesn't pick up on them for some reason."
"Maybe it's seniority?" Dipper suggested. "Older undead have stronger senses or something?"
"That'd be stupid," Wendy snorted.
"I dunno," Dipper grew a frown, "That seems to happen a lot when it comes to 'magical things'. Like if it's older, it automatically is cooler, or something."
"Hardly," Wendy smirked, "I mean, comparing you and Stan? I think you won the 'who is cooler'."
"Heh," Dipper gave a short laugh, and turned away, watching the three ahead of him walk.
Dipper could only wonder if Grunkle Stan had become a ghost of some sort. Maybe a phantom, wandering in the woods by what used to be the Gravity Falls Mystery Manor. Stuck… thinking he was still alive. The rest of the tour was a blur to Dipper.
However, it was a learning experience to Mabel and Soos. With Wendy asking the questions that Dipper usually would, the four tailed right after Master Gracey in his elaborate home. At the end of the hallway, two maids pushed open large double doors that lead into a magnificent ballroom. Three huge chandeliers hung above, flooding golden light into the room. Above the doors were overlooks from the floor above, letting others watch from above.
Mabel's eyes went wide as he let them look around. "I could run in circles in here for days and not get bored! There're details in the detail's details!" She said, running to a column against the wall.
Dipper frowned; uncertain Mabel's antics were safe. Although Gracey seemed pleasant and all too happy to guide them, Dipper felt a cold shiver run up his neck.
He turned and looked above him.
There she was again, watching from afar: the blond woman. This time she leaned on the railing, looking down at Mabel. There was a wide smile on her face.
Wendy, stepping closer to Dipper, murmured, "I don't like it."
"Got bad vibes?" Dipper barely moved his mouth as he asked her.
Wendy stepped behind him, acting as if she was examining an organ that Dipper had decided to stand nearby. "Let's just say that I can tell without a doubt that everyone here is undead. Even her. Except when I look at her, my senses don't do their little radar warning."
"Wait," Dipper flashed his eyes towards the girl, and noticed she was gone. "What?" he gasped. "Could she be alive?"
"No way man," Wendy whispered. "She's dead, alright. But… whatever I can do to detect what something is or is doing… I can't get a read on her."
The news of the mysterious girl only brought more worry to Dipper. They eventually moved from the ballroom, where Soos potted the beginnings of a table of still empty plates. Whining like a saddened puppy, he was pulled out of the room with promises they could probably grab a bite to eat if Dipper ordained it to be safe at all to digest. From that hall to another, Gracey took them to a music room, and to the stairwells that lead to the basement.
"I must admit, the basement is not permitted to guests," he worriedly said, eying the downstairs, "The state of such levels should not be accessed. Dark things are left to rest below."
"Like, uh, cursed-" Soos began, but Mabel and Dipper elbowed him. "Ow! Uh- I mean- course! Like, of course, dude!"
As Gracey smiled and turned, leading them away, Mabel and Dipper glanced down. The straight edged staircases lead downwards and upwards, but the absence of lights in the basement brought an unease fret to their hearts. It was creepy to be in a mansion, flooded with ghosts, and yet they had a place to stay away from.
"So," Dipper leaned to Mabel, "A place to definitely check out after we get enough supplies."
"I bet you that's where the bad stuff hides. You know, the stuff keeping ghosts around," Mabel whispered before darting after their lead.
Their host seemed to not notice their quiet scheming as he gave them their tour. Out into a small doorway aside the building, they stepped into the misty day that surrounded the island. Soos nudged on the twins, pointing around. "Seems a bit darker, don't it?" he asked.
Dipper rolled his eyes. "No, it's just the light. It's only…" he stared at his phone, ready to check the time. Only… the time on the phone continued to change. From eleven a.m. to six in the evening, to twenty-three hours, to, the most frightening of things that flashed before the phone, just '13th hour'. When Dipper looked up again, his eyes adjusted to the light. Was it darker? He couldn't tell.
"What's the time?" Soos asked, studying Dipper's fixated stare.
Uncertain, with the time and what to say, Dipper gulped. "I think… uh… we've got time," Dipper managed to blurt out, and nodded ahead, "Keep up with him, right?" he suggested.
Curving around to the side of the building with their spectral leader, they finally came about to a porch that overlooked the entirety of the backyard. Tombstones littered the hill. The mausoleum could be seen, its two heavy doors quite overgrown. Several statues looked over the resting places as silent watchers. In the distance as the banks of fog materialized, the four could discern where the edges of the island would fade into the river.
"You've got a lot of dead people here," Soos blurted out. Three heads whipped to him, hissing 'shh!'.
"Pardon?" the man turned around, his eyes scanning the four.
Mabel leapt to the social rescue. "Uh, Soos was just," Mabel looked around, "Commenting on your great… decorations?" she asked, wincing in her choice of words.
The man gave a small chuckle. "What decorations?" he said, looking out to the hill. "It's merely my yard."
Wendy waved her hand about, saying, "We like the woods off that way."
"Oh. They can be frightful at night," he commented, "But then again, so too is mankind. Their habits for terror are not isolated to the freakish and fantasies of nature," he commented.
The four stared at him. What… was that comment supposed to mean?
"Absolutely dude," Soos nodded, clearly the most blank slate of the four.
Unphased, their host smiled. "Excellent," Gracey turned back towards the large doors, and opened them, "Come this way. We'll pass through the ballroom here."
"Sure thing, mister Gracey!" Mabel chimed in happily, skipping ahead.
Dipper felt it again. The shiver.
He glanced up to a window, and saw her again. There was no readable expression in her face, but her eyes… excited? Cold? Sharp? What energy was locked in her stare as she traced Mabel, only then to look to him. Then he couldn't resist visibly trembling.
Stepping inside, Wendy awaited him, looking down the hallway that was perpendicular to the ballroom. Dipper followed her gaze and saw them. The workers and maids all were watching them intently.
"Okay, the creep is growing," Wendy decided.
"I can't help but agree," he said, and tuned, watching Soos and Mabel grow further apart. "We need to go now I think," he said. Dipper rushed forward, striding around several maids that had started to follow the group. As he and Wendy ducked aside from them, noticing their close pursuit, Dipper grabbed Soos and Mabel by the arm. Half way down the hallway, he whispered to them, "We really need to consider leaving. Now."
"Why? Ghost got you spooked?" Mabel stuck her tongue out at him and chuckled.
"Look behind you," Dipper growled.
Soos and Mabel did as instructed. Behind Wendy, who stiffly followed Dipper, about twenty feet back, a procession line of Maids and servants were following them, their eyes glued onto the twins.
Nodding slowly, Soos admitted, "Okay, just a little freaky-deaky."
"I kind of agree, but only kind of," Mabel shrugged, "Maybe they're just getting ready for the opening celebration ceremony?"
"By watching us at every turn?" Dipper hissed.
Mabel admitted, "Eh, I've met weirder people. Like guys who order coffee who only pay with change. Where do they keep getting that much change? Why does it always smell like air-freshener?"
Ahead of them, their host called out. "And finally, we end the tour here," Gracey made a wide, sweeping step to turn and face the group, "In the foyer."
True to his becoming, they were back in the room where they had met him. Dipper glanced over his shoulder, and found the girl there, now leaning on her elbows on the railing as she watched them. She seemed to be holding something behind a nearby pillar, draped by her side.
"Sir," Dipper said, stepping forward, "We just wanted to really thank you, so much, for all your work and hospitality."
"It was my pleasure," the man nodded.
"Now if you'll let us," Dipper said, nodding to the door behind the master of the estate, "We'd love to get dressed for the party, you see."
"Of course," he nodded and snapped his fingers, and walking past them was the dark skinned, balding butler. "Ramsey, see to it that they are dressed for the occasion. Anything ours may be theirs for this night."
The man nodded. "Of course, sir."
"Wait, wait," Dipper held up his hands, "We don't need you to do that."
As the Butler stepped past them, the eyes of the Master constricted and focused onto Dipper. "But I think I do, dear boy. It would be the more appropriate thing to do. I offer you help to stay, and you don't miss the opening of the party of a lifetime, celebrating something best found in life."
Dipper gulped, and felt his hands creep for the water gun. "Sir, please let us go."
"I'm afraid not," Master Gracey shook his head, his smile growing sadder and the edges of his grin faltering. "I would like to invite you all to be my personal guests this evening."
Taking a solid step forward, Wendy proclaimed, "Sorry, we're busy."
"As much as we'd love to!" Mabel grinned.
A silky, smooth, entirely alluring voice echoed out from behind the Master of the manor. Stepping out as the doors opened, the woman who had been watching the entire time appeared before them. "More guests for tonight, father?" she asked.
"I should hope so," he noted, his eyes not leaving theirs.
"Father, introduce me," she asked, stepping next to them. Up closer, the four could see the beauty that was the woman before them. Her age, while neither past her prime nor in her youth, was undetermined, much like her supposed father. The blue in her eyes was darker and much more filled out than her fathers. It was a sharp blue, one that could cut with a glance.
"This, my friends, is Constance. Miss Constance Hatchetaway," Gracey smiled as his daughter took her skirt and gave a grand curtsey.
"Hatchetaway?" Wendy asked.
"What a wonderful name!" Mabel smiled.
The girl looked up from her bow, staring right into Mabel's brown eyes. "Thank you, my dear. I'm at disadvantage, however. Who might you all be?" she asked, eying them all, but returning to stare at Mabel.
As his sister opened her mouth, Dipper stepped in front of her. He declared hastily, "We'll be your father's guests for the evening, but we're kind of in a rush to get prepared!" Dipper stammered, his heart racing now that the woman was barely feet from him. It was like staring down the face of something predatory, something dangerous. She was so at ease, watching him trembling. Yet he spoke again, despite his instincts telling him to distance himself from her. "We can meet again, you know, when we come back-"
"Oh father," the woman turned, pulling on Gracey's arm, "They're leaving already? Keep them here," she asked, grinning at Dipper with a terrible confidence, "They aught stay for my party!"
"Your party?" Soos asked.
"Oh yes!" she laughed, "This whole night is for me," she cooed.
"Now, you four," Gracey said, his voice becoming stern, "You should be good guests, and stay."
"I'm sorry, but we will come back," Dipper gritted his teeth, "But we need to go now, so-"
A terrible wind shook the windows around them. The storm shutters clattered noisily, hanging onto their hinges with limited strength. The glass panes shook and trembled, and the earth rumbled.
"What's going on?!" Dipper demanded.
"Ah," Master Gracey stepped aside, his hand open and to the doors as his daughter stepped aside with him, "Finally." His staff marched into place, on either sides of the main door, forming a line. Then, in unison, bowed. Edward Gracey, a flash of smile resembling his daughter, said, "The guests have arrived."
The windows opened themselves with loud bangs. Curtains billowed and flowed away from their hangers, pathing way for the entering guests.
From the dozen or so windows, pale blue, transparent, ancient looking figures drifting in. Holding their tall hats on their heads, their dresses at their sides, their canes, or umbrellas steadily at their sides, more ghosts than the four had ever seen in their lives started to fly in. Ghosts of nobility. Ghosts of actors and musicians. Cooks and chefs. Sailors and soldiers. Opera singers and song-writers. Dressed to fit their style and occupation, dozens and dozens, no, nearly a hundred had suddenly burst into the room.
All the blood in the three not dead in the house went cold as the grave, and Wendy just felt petrified.
"Dipper," Mabel's voice shook.
"What's going on dude?" Soos asked.
"It's a haunting… unrecorded in power," Dipper managed to say as even still, more ghosts floated in. He drew out his bookmarked page in the journal, "No wonder people thought it was a curse. It's not a curse. It's a haunting so powerful it makes curse-like effects."
"We're really, really, really dead right now," Mabel half-chuckled, half-gulped.
"Jokes aside, yeah," Dipper nodded, "Grunkle Ford had a while to record his research into paranormal activities like ghosts. Nothing came ever closer to this! This is like... three level tens at once!" he said.
Then, the front doors opened with a crash, the wood wobbling in place.
With a terrible scream, the four saw the worse end of undead approach. Ghouls, zombies, the living dead began to crawl, pull or shamble their way into the building. Stench of the grace filled the air, and Mabel gagged as Soos went pale. Soos yowled out, "Aww, forget the buffet dude, I need a bathroom quick!"
"See? The ceremony for my daughter has begun!" Master Edward Gracey announced as he began to float above. Lifting by his own spectral power, he rested mid-air before his portrait. The portrait, as the four saw, had begun to age. Faster and faster the graces of the man decayed and fell away.
"What is this party!?" Dipper demanded, "Why have so many come?!"
"They were invited," Gracey sneered, as the lips of his portrait slowly withered, along with all his hair and flush, healthy skin. "All who are invited to Constance Hatchetaway's special occasion will come," he threatened, his eyes flashing red.
"Let us go!" Wendy shouted, "We've dealt with ghosts before!"
Mabel rushed to add, "Not that we'd want to, but we could!"
The head of the estate chuckled. Then he outright laughed. As he did, his form faded until it was merely his laughter on the air. Behind him, the full image of the portrait came into view: a fully decayed skeleton with two blue orbs for eyes. Around them, more ghosts and undead they had ever seen in their lives or heard of in myth surrounded them, staring down on them with ghostly menace.
On the air, Edward Gracey's voice came back. "You can't leave now. The party finally has started. We've been dying for you to join us!"
The ghosts hollered and cheered and cried out with joy. The undead, those with jaws or partial jaws, moaned and screeched in reply. The noise was too much. Mabel reached out and grabbed her brother.
"C'mon!" she screamed, and the four turned and ran their ways down the hallway.
"Oh! I love a good chase," the voice of Constance said. They spotted her, now standing on the balcony above, watching them go.
In the hallway, the maids they had seen before slowly lost their color, fading into an unnatural, glowing, pale blue. They emerged through doors, and slowly barricaded the middle of the hallway.
"In here!" Mabel shouted, and dived into the closest unguarded doors. As Soos dived inside, skidding against the newly polished floors, they heard the daughter, Constance's voice behind them.
"Wait for me, dear guests!" the distant daughter of Edward begged, "This is truly exciting! To chase once more? It almost makes me feel alive again! Almost…"
"Shh," Dipper held out his hand to his mouth as they crept across the room to the other side. "Find a place to hide," he whispered.
"They're just going to come in," Wendy pointed out, "And assume we're still here."
"Unless I open this door," Dipper pointed hastily, "and then close it. They'll see it and think we ran out."
"Good idea dude," Soos said, stepping next to a bust of a man, next to the bookshelf in a corner, "A distraction will-"
At this point, the bust became alive and howled at Soos.
"I say! A suspicious looking figure in the library! What is this!?" he bellowed, this thick Londoners accent booming around them.
Soos roared, "NO NIGHTMARES OF THAT DOG AGAIN!" and lifted the bust of the head up, and tossed him at the doors across the room.
"WAAaaaoooohhh…" the head went, sailing through the air and making a perfectly centered hole through the two doors. His destruction had caused a number of books to fall from the shelf, and Dipper spotted one.
"Hold on," he said, reaching out for it. He barely had a moment to wrap his fingers around the spine when more servants started to float in.
"No time for waiting!" Mabel said, and tugged his arm.
"Ack! Mabel!" Dipper yelled, managing to grab only one book.
Mabel verbally poked him with, "Be a nerd when the dead are done playing tag!" Mabel cried as they pushed through the opposite door. Slamming it shut behind them, they were met with the large hall. At one end, they could still see the blue glow of the swarms of ghosts, now moving through the hallways.
"Uh, that door!" Dipper turned and pointed.
Wendy kicked the double-doors clean wide. She darted inside, turning and grasping one of the doorknobs quickly. As Mabel and Soos barged in, and Dipper nearly tripped rushing past them, the two ladies slammed the doors closed. Looking around, they were in the smaller music room, nearby the ballroom.
"Hide!" Wendy shouted, looking around.
"Gotcha!" Dipper nodded and dived behind a sitting chair. Soos rolled underneath a closed and propped up coffin, and pulled a chair in front of his face. Mabel found several curtains to duck inside of, while Wendy took the cabinet, and leapt inside it.
To Dipper's sight, as he peered past the chair, a ghostly head poked through the closed door, looking inside. The servant frowned, it's pupil-less eyes seemingly not spotting the four. Slowly receding back through the door, the specter left the four alone to their room, undiscovered.
"It didn't see us?" Wendy whispered across the room.
"Guess not," Soos said, crawling up from under the coffin. "At least we're alone."
The coffin slowly was pushed open, and two rotting hands struggled to ply open the nails that forced shut the box-cover. As Soos leaned back, and the three rushed to his aid, a squeaky male voice asked, "Can I come out?"
"Not yet buddy," Soos said, and slowly pushed back down the top, "We'll totally let you know when it's your turn though."
From inside the closing coffin, a muffled, "Drat," replied.
"Well, almost alone," Soos shivered as he turned back to his friends. Mabel and Wendy stood before him, and Dipper stepped aside, folding out the small book he had lifted.
"How do we sneak past all these Ghosties and Ghoulies?" Mabel growled. "This isn't going to be normal amounts of sneaking. Like super-sneaking, with super technology like invisibility devices or something."
Wendy told her, "I'm pretty sure that ghosts see through tricks like invisibility."
"Of course they see through invisibility, that's the point," Soos stated confidently. Wendy stared at him.
Dipper gasped, and waved from his spot to the three. "Guys, come here!" he quietly asked. The three approached, looking over his shoulder to the book he lifted. "This is Edward Gracey's Journal."
"More reading!?" Mabel whined. "Can't people express their feelings through pictures and stickers, like me?" she asked.
The hand in the coffin re-appeared. "I could do that, if you let me out," it suggested.
"Stay in your coffin, sir," Soos pointed to him. With a sorrowful moan, the hand slid back inside, leaving the coffin sealed.
After watching the coffin with interest, the four looked into the book as Dipper read aloud.
"It has been months since my dear daughter has married Ambrose. The Wedding cost a fortune, but the ties to the family are now stronger than ever! It almost makes me regret not telling them of their dear son's death last week – wait, what?!" Dipper gasped.
Wendy took a turn ready. "Hiding his body was most tasking, partially due to the nature of how he was dispatched. However, the secret of his grave is a safe one. None will find it, so long as I have my own mind about me. My dearest daughter need not fret. I'm sure that once we declare Ambrose having run off and left all his worldly possessions with her, Constance will be able to re-marry, and enjoy her life of true love. Dude," Wendy shivered, "I knew there was something wrong with that guy! He's a murderer."
"Not just once," Dipper turned the pages, "He talks about it more!" Dipper turned pages rapidly. "There's at least five entries! Five people!"
Distressed, Mabel cried out, "The master, that sweet looking man, killed five husbands? He must use those dashing looks to prevent people from suspecting anything of him!"
"So, this is the power that's haunting them," Dipper shuddered. "Five dead husbands, killed for… I don't know, I guess their money? He does say after each death he forges a note saying that they leave all their wealth to his daughter, and therefore him." Dipper lowered the book. "He used his only kid like a grave-digger."
With a low-volume whistle, Soos muttered, "That's all sorts of dark and messed up, dawg, and we've met Bill Cipher and, uh," he stammered, "Well, we've met Bill Cipher."
From the coffin, the hands popped out again. "I knew a man by the name of Bill!" the person inside the box declared, "If you'd help me come out, I could tell you all-"
"Look dawg," Soos turned to the coffin with the gang, "Someday, we'll let you out, okay? But right now, we're in a totally big burrito of bad. So, you're lucky you're in there, and not out here."
"Oh. Wow," the voice quietly said, "That's… sad to hear, friend."
"So, we'll let you out after the trouble's all done, okay?" Soos said.
The hands fell limp. With a sigh, the hands recollected themselves back inside the coffin. "I'll be waiting here. Don't take too long doing what you need to, friends," the voice whined before retreating inside.
"How do we stop this then?" Wendy inquired, leaning around Dipper to better look at the journal. "Do we just tell the ghosts to chill out, like this guy," she nodded at the now still coffin.
"I doubt it," Dipper said, "five angry spirits can do a lot of damage. Something tells me that we'll need to find them, and then bring them to peace before-"
Above their heads, a voice answered, "Something else finds you?"
The four yelled and turned. The woman, Constance, was standing behind them, her eyes glistening as she looked between them all with a dangerous hunger. "Oh, so alive, so fearful… I haven't felt fear in a very long time, did you know that?" she said. When they all stared back, she huffed. "Well, don't let me stop you. Run!?" she suggested.
"Sure!" Dipper shouted. Grasping Mabel's hand, he darted around her, and she whirled to face them as they, all four, ran out of the room. Her soft chuckling echoed around them as they took down the hallway, going to their right.
"I didn't even hear her come in," Dipper growled.
"Happens when they can just float around," Mabel said wearily, looking behind her. Soos and Wendy also followed suit, and they found Constance in the distance, her form emitting an eerie aura of blue. While she was not transparent, her distant form was akin to the other specters of the building.
"Where now?!" Wendy barked.
"Uh," Dipper glanced from room to room they passed. Doors on either side bulged out from their hinges, unnaturally looming close to them. Enchantments and spells billowed around them in this haunting of scale beyond reckoning. "Uh," Dipper looked around again, as eyes formed into the wallpaper, staring and watching them go. "They can see wherever we are," he remarked. "Uh, where, c'mon," Dipper's feet pressed into the carpet beneath them, and then, to his right side, he saw them. Double doors opened just slightly, revealing large windows in the distance. "There!" he shouted.
Turning his shoulder to the doors, he charged them, bashing them open with a clatter. It was the ballroom. Across the large tiled floors, the windows and glass doors awaited.
"We can get into the graveyard from there," Dipper gasped as the four rushed forward.
Then the curtains fell on their own, blocking the exit. Dipper slid to a halt; his sister next to him. Wendy and Soos slid into their backs, as the four made for the curtains. Coming close, the red and gold curtains began to billow and sway, and stepping through them, more ghosts. Dressed for an occasion a hundred years or more, they stared at the four unblinkingly.
"Exit blocked," Soos whimpered, "I hate it when they do that in video games, but it feels even worse in real life."
A voice echoed behind the four, and they faced the double doors they burst from. Floating through the space effortlessly was the Master of the Estate, Edward Gracey.
"Dear guests, I'm so glad you could come here," he smiled happily, floating down to stand before them, some ten feet away.
"Back!" Dipper shouted, reaching inside his jacket for his water-gun of anointed water.
"We're not your guests!" Wendy snapped.
"Yeah, as much as we'd love to be," Mabel shouted, "You're being a totally uncool host! A ghost-host!" Mabel chuckled. "That's funny."
Edward Gracey grinned, and kindly said, "But I wasn't just talking about us here."
An organ far to their right blared loudly, shocking the four to turn and stare. They spotted a lone ghost in a large top-hat, playing away a mournful, sordid tune. As he struck chords, and the whole floor and air shook with music. Ghosts began to float through the walls now, in numbers that stunned them again. The amount they had seen in the foyer had merely been a teaser.
"Dipper, you know I'm bad at math," Mabel gulped, "So you gotta tell me how many that is."
"Too many," Dipper gasped, "At least five hundred! No… maybe six? Eight?!"
"Nine hundred," Gracey stated, surrounded by his un-living company. "By our estimates, nine hundred and ninety-nine spirits of this manor await release in this island."
"Nine ninety-nine?" Soos repeated, "That's awfully specific."
"Now, let us have you join us this merry occasion," Gracey said, his glowing eyes growing brighter as he approached them, closing in the distance with his company.
With a surge of resistance, Dipper shouted, "BACK OFF!" holding out his water gun. "I've got anointed water! I'd rather put you to rest, but I'll evaporate you if I have to!" The waves of specters stalled. Dipper glanced back to Gracey, who glared at Dipper. "What is this party for!? Answer me!"
"It's the last celebration we will ever have here. All because… of you," he said, his eyes flashing dangerously.
"I said stay back!" Dipper shouted, pointing the water-gun at Gracey. "It's because of you that all these people are trapped here!" The ghost before him took a step closer. "I warned you!" Dipper yelled, and pulling the trigger.
Instead of water blasting forth, the water gun shot out of his hand and flew into the air with a strong yank. The four gasped and stared as the gun, devoid of aura controlling it, floated high to the second balcony, where the outstretched hand of Constance Hatchetaway awaited.
"None of that," she sighed, and wiggled her fingers. The plastic and water inside became ash and scattered in an unseen wind. "This night, we will end this curse all as one."
She then stepped through the railing, entirely incorporeal, and fell to the floor, where she landed upright. Entirely unfazed with her fall, Constance stepped forward, and all ghosts in her way parted rapidly, their head in a gentle bow.
"You said you'd break the curse?" Dipper asked, staring at her, "You really want to do that?"
"Of course. So many here seek to rest in peace," she wistfully said, glancing to her father, who stepped away, his eyes wide as he watched her.
"Okay," Dipper slowly nodded, "You'd help us do that? How? Show us the bodies of the five men your father killed!?" Dipper snapped.
Constance stared at him. Then with a laugh, she shook her head. "No, dear boy, no. It's much easier than that," she said. "My five departed husbands are not the source that causes such gloom."
"Wait, they're not?" Dipper asked.
"Then, what is?" Wendy called.
The ghost of Constance Hatchetaway looked to the ceiling, eying the many ghosts floating above them. A moment of thought passed in her eyes, and she looked down. Once again looking to them, she smiled. "This curse was caused by true love."
"Whaaat?!" The four asked.
"True love is such a terrible, haunting thing, is it not?" Constance said, "With it, we are so tethered to someone that should they die, we are compelled to follow. Without it, we are empty shells, no better alive than… well," she looked to herself, "I believe my state speaks for itself."
Beyond belief, Dipper demanded of her, "You're saying the reason this haunting is happening is because of true love?"
"That's awfully tragic," Soos said, wringing the hem of his shirt.
"To break such a curse," Constance explained, "We have awaited ones who could… bring that thought of love to us. But not just any love," she said, and pointed to them, "True love."
Slowly, one by one, each of the group turned to Mabel. She looked between her friends, and a sheepish smile grew to her face. "What?" she asked.
"All we need… is one who can bring that feeling of love back to us," Constance said, "So that we can be reminded what true love really is."
Mabel cracked her knuckles. She stretched her neck. Giving her chest a quick gorilla thump, she stepped past her brother. "If you need true love, look no further!" she declared, holding her hands into the air. "Viola! It's-a me, Mabel!"
"Truly," Constance came closer, extending her arm to Mabel, "You? You promise to show love in its purist of form? In absolute?"
"Pfft, please," Mabel laughed, "I'm still in mourning over a pig that I had. When it comes to love," she extended her hand, "I'm the girl to ask for-"
When Mabel's hand touched Constance's, she shivered and gasped. Her eyes shook out of focus and she stumbled forward. Constance smiled, and wrapping her two arms around Mabel's, she lifted herself and the now unconscious girl into the air with a sweet laughter. Dipper bellowed and reached out, but was too slow; Mabel was already too far out of reach.
Fear coursing through his blood, Dipper demanded with a roar, "W-Wait, what're doing to my sister!?"
"She is the willing one to provide true love to us again," Constance sighed, turning to them once more, now high above. "Soon, the commencement ceremony will begin, and dancing, and merriment will be had, just as it had once before, so long ago!" she cheered, and the ghosts around her celebrated with her.
"You give her back!" Dipper roared, "Give back my sister right now! Mabel, wake up!" he called. Mabel's eyes, heavy and still, remained shut. "No! MABEL!"
"If you will not comply with my daughter's demands," Edward Gracey spoke up, his eyes flashing dangerously again, "We will have no choice but… to force you to be our guests," he sneered. A line of ghouls stepped through him and the hordes of ghosts suddenly, advancing onto the three. "Bring these three to the dungeons," the Master stated, and the Ghouls shrieked in reply, coming closer to the three friends.
"Uh oh," Soos said as they retreated backward, now nearly against the back wall of ghosts. "So, uh, I know that Mabel said she wasn't interested in being possessed, but now I'm kinda feeling like that's on their plans with us!"
"We're not giving in to them!" Dipper shouted, looking around. "There's… there's got to be a way! We have to get Mabel back!"
"We can't do that if we're stuck in a lousy dungeon," Wendy snarled. Stepping around in a whirl, she spotted a chair. "Guys," she said as the ghouls came closer, "When you get the chance, we all run, okay?"
"What about Mab-" Dipper started.
"Promise me!" Wendy snapped. "You've made me promise things worse than that before," she reminded Dipper.
The teen shook, remembering the cursed game of Strongholds and Serpents. He still sometimes remembered the rush of air that heralded the edge of an axe. Dipper nodded, and shakily promised with, "Y-yeah, I will."
"So do I, so we're clear," Soos said.
"Good," Wendy sighed.
She then lunged under a collection of Ghosts, who gasped and stepped aside as she grasped a chair. In a dervish whirl, she stood up and spun the chair. The ghosts, though unaffected, where taken aback at Wendy's sudden burst of ferocity. Then she spun once more and hurled the chair at the window's curtains.
Fabric and all tore and shattered as the large, heavy chair smashed through the window.
"GO!" Wendy shouted.
Dipper lunged forward, diving over the shards of broken glass. The distance to the ground was slightly higher than the floor inside, and he misjudged his landing. Rolling aside a few times, Dipper hit the side of a stone handrail, and groaned, feeling a bruise beginning to form. Soos leapt after him, his rear landing next to Dipper with a dull thud.
"Wendy, c'mon!" Dipper shouted. The redhead lunged out, but a ghoulish hand grasped her hair, and she yelped, denied her dive forward. "NO!" Dipper roared, rushing up off the ground. The glass window was re-forming, the glass and broken wooden supports coming together and closing the way. "WENDY!" Dipper roared.
"Dude," Wendy said, managing to say as she was pulled away, hands grabbing her arms and clothes, pulling her back into the mansion, "Get help!" she barked.
The glass sealed shut.
Dipper stared at the foggy, ethereal forms inside. They swirled around Wendy, shoving her away as an angry swarm.
"No," Dipper's lips trembled.
A heavy, tense hand reached out and grasped his shoulder. Dipper whirled around, ready to throw a fist in retaliation, but only found Soos.
"Dipper, dawg, we need to go!" he cried out.
"Mabel and Wendy are in there!" he shouted. "We can't just leave-"
"Wendy is right, dawg," Soos shouted, grabbing his arms, "If we're all stuck in a basement and locked up, we can't rescue them or nothing!"
Dipper bit his lip. It was painful to admit Soos was right when it meant leaving behind two people he cared for. They were stuck in a mansion, surrounded by the cursed dead, while he and Soos were outside in-
Thunder boomed overhead, and flash of light from the sky told the two that a storm was brewing. Not only that, it was much, much darker than before. Night had already fallen.
To make things worse, the steps that lead to the graveyard echoed with the sounds of groaning and snarling. Soos and Dipper turned, and they saw, rising from their ancient graves, zombies. Many zombies. Hordes of them.
"As if ghosts weren't enough!" Dipper snapped.
Soos pulled on his arm, lifting him off his feet. "Time to run, dude!"
Dipper, looking back once to the mansion behind him, turned and ran. Wendy was inside now, being pulled around and probably taken to a dungeon by the undead. Mabel… who knows what was happening to Mabel. But Soos was right: they needed help.
Dipper, now running next to Soos in full force, reached inside his vest and grasped his phone.
"Nice thinking dude," Soos admitted as he huffed in their run. A hand burst out of the earth right next to Soos, clawing at Soos's shoe. "Whoa! Off my sneaks, bro!" Soos said, kicking at the hand. Freed from the grasp, the two continued their departure as thunder and storm grew above them. Wind whipped around them, still incapable of disrupting the eerie supernatural mist of the island.
Dipper gasped as he looked at his phone's digital face. "No signal!?" Dipper shouted. "C'mon!"
"Lemme check-" Soos reached for his phone, but another zombie lunged out from the earth, grabbing his leg. Soos collapsed forward, shouting as he did. Dipper yelped, and grabbed Soos's arms, trying to pull him away, but the undead's strength was considerate. The corpse snarled, revealing all its rotten teeth and frigid breath. "Take this, dude!" Soos shouted, throwing the phone at the undead. The cellular device imbedded itself between the eyes, cracking the worn skull of the zombie. Confused, but not beaten, the undead let go of Soos.
As Soos and Dipper ran off, the Zombie patted its skull, trying to discern what had happened to it's frontal skull.
"Now, before I am interrupted again," Soos said, "Let me check my cell pho-" he gasped, and snapped his fingers as he paused in realization, "Drat. Let me go ask that zombie if he'll give me my phone back."
"SOOS!" Dipper yelled.
"Right, sorry!" Soos nodded and followed after him.
Down the hill the two charged. The Graveyards behind them faded, but the sounds of the undead did not fade. They were being followed through the mist. As they tumbled over roots and through bushes, the two saw the collapsed and moldy dock by the side of the river.
Mermando was by the boat some five feet in the water, but swam to them with wide eyes. "I heard screams from a distance! What is going–" his eyes seemed to count the lack of numbers. "Where is Mabel?" he called to them.
"We need backup for this place!" Dipper shouted.
"Tell me where is Mabel!" Mermando yelled as Soos and Dipper arrived.
"Mabel's been taken!" Dipper admitted with a heavy, shaky breath, "And we'll be too if we can't escape and get backup!"
The merman stared to them. Eyes of concern, and even possibly distrust radiated from him. Yet the sky above crashed with storms, as lightning streaked across the heavens. Mermando glanced up, and his eyes focused. "Okay. We're going to get out of here first," he said, and swam to the boat.
"Yes, just get us out of here, and we can come back prepared," Dipper nodded.
Looking over his shoulder while swimming to the boat, Mermando said, "Just sit there for a moment while I get the–"
With a burst and roar, a zombie emerged from the water, directly in front of Mermando. The merman shrieked and swam away with a dart of speed. Dipper and Soos gasped and stepped away from the shore as three more Zombies emerged, two coming towards the humans, and the other two slowly chasing after Mermando.
"I am faster than them," the merman cried, "But if I push the boat, they will catch me!"
"Then, uh," Dipper gulped, looking behind him. The shadows of the dead were approaching. He glanced back. Bubbles from the water accounted for even more undead that would rise. "Get out of here, Mermando!" Dipper roared.
With a curt nod, Mermando dived under the water and vanished from sight.
"Dude, what now!?" Soos said, "The boat's floating away!"
"I-I-I-" Dipper stammered, looking around.
The path in the forest had the dead coming. The waterlogged corpses from the water slowly were pulling their way to the surface. The wind on the water pushed the boat even further away. They were out of time. They had no path to take. It was just those two, now.
"Just run!" Dipper shouted.
On blind instinct, the two turned and ran to the left, avoiding the lines of undead from the graveyard and the undead from the river. The woods now surrounded them, basking the two mortals in a sea of death with thick fog. Their sight robbed, they had to just as much dodge trees as they did the shambling bodies.
"I think I have one more idea!" Dipper shouted as they came to a clearing, with no immediate signs of trouble. Thunder crashed above.
"Dude, I hope you do, because my idea for asking for peace between undead and living seems to only go so far," Soos admitted, "And my past experienced with zombies is not one I'm happy about either!"
Dipper then stepped next to a tree. His back against the tree, he closed his eyes. He focused. The instructions of the spell were simple, so there had to be a trick. The trick was focus. He had to focus.
There was only one person Dipper knew who had been able to handle nearly anything. Who had saved him, and his sister, and the gang many times before. He never wanted to admit that he'd ask for help but…
Dipper mumbled, "Zander."
"Huh?" Soos turned, looking to Dipper, who was rubbing his temples.
"Quiet Soos, I'm trying a spell!" Dipper snapped. "Auxilium Animus attentus. Zander!" Dipper snapped, "C'mon! Answer me!"
Dipper heard nothing in his mind. Dipper furrowed his brow. He remembered what Mermando had told him: to seek a connection. He knew that he and Zander had things in common. Zander had family. He didn't want the world to end. He… was male, as far as Dipper knew, at least. What else? The spell required them to have something in common! What else?
Banking on something he felt in his own heart, Dipper said again, "Auxilium Animus attentus. Zander, my sister is in trouble! Help us!"
"Dude, they're hearing you," Soos mumbled, looking ahead as he talked out of the corner of his mouth.
Dipper glanced up. Shapes in the mist had returned. The dead were stumbling closer.
"No," Dipper begged, and closed his eyes, now hitting his forehead. "Auxilium Animus attentus! Zander! Zander! Come on! We need you! I need your help! We're in way over our heads!"
"Dipper, we need to go!" Soos bellowed as six zombies shambled out of the curtain of mist.
Dipper shouted, "Damn it!" and with Soos, ran from the clearing. "The spell wasn't working!"
Their feet pounded into the loose earth of the woods around them. Leaves beneath their shoes scattered into the wind, and their eyes watered as the air grew cold as it did windy. The stench of rot filled the air as earth bulged and expanded outward as they ran. More and more undead punched their ways out of their graves.
"Dipper, dude," Soos pointed. As Dipper looked, they spotted a place of possible solace. A small building with a thick door.
As they ran forward, Dipper stopped just short of the doors. "That's a mausoleum, Soos!" Dipper growled. "We're being chased by undead, and we're going to their home!" he hissed quietly.
"Maybe that's why it's so good?" Soos suggested, "Like, why would we ever hide in their home, right?"
Dipper paused to think about it. "I've come up with worse ideas," he admitted, and helped Soos pull open the doors.
Inside, the blackness of the crypts was absolute. Yet they jammed the doors closed behind them. Now, plunged into darkness, Dipper scrambled out for his phone, and activated the flash-light function.
It was a small room. It was also devoid of filled coffins, only of empty, untouched ones. The flowers in the building all had rotten away, leaving stained and ruined pottery.
Dipper opened his mouth, but Soos put a finger to his own. Shuffles outside and moans of terrible fates came closer. Closing his phone rapidly, Dipper and Soos backed up to the far wall. Staring at the distant door, with its bare minimum light leaking through cracks, they awaited the dead to come forward.
Yet they did not. The dead shuffled away.
Soos leaned to Dipper. "Told ya," Soos sniffed.
Dipper flipped open his phone, flooding digital light into the small room with four slots for coffins. Two decorative curtains stood by corners. Dipper looked around further, yet nothing else caught his eye. The coffins empty, and no doors or hatches in the floors to lead elsewhere, they were in a glorified closet in the graveyard.
"Okay, we need a plan right freakin' now," Dipper declared.
"Right!" Soos said. "We exorcise them!"
"To exorcise a ghost, we need it to be still and, in a position where it can't stop us," Dipper said, "Not to mention, the time required to do that to nine hundred ghosts would be weeks!"
"Plus, an extra ninety nine," Soos added.
Growled, Dipper turned. "If I had more anointed water…"
"But that Constance – she just wrecked that super MLG style," Soos said, "Too easy. That water won't help, dawg."
"Thank you," Dipper barked, "But we need to focus, Soos."
"But… what can we do, dude?" Soos asked.
"I-I don't know!" Dipper gasped. "This is so far beyond my total grasp of what the supernatural could do! This is like a thirteen on the scale of one to ten! Ghosts should not be able to touch anointed water, let alone destroy it!"
"And thirteen is the scariest number," Soos shuddered.
"I would say we could try reasoning with them, but by the sounds of it, their version of getting what they want means doing something to Mabel!" Dipper shouted. "But what!? What could they want with my sister..?"
"Maybe, uh, art-lessons?" Soos asked.
"SOOS!"
"Sorry, and shhh," he said, holding a finger to his lips.
"We have to think of something!" Dipper repeated. A weight under his arm tugged at his attention. Slowly, he drew out one of the journals. "Maybe… maybe fight fire-"
"With fire?" Soos tried.
"No, with magic," Dipper said, laying all three journals out on the floor. "While Grunkle Ford was a possessed monster for Bill Cipher, he certainly had plenty of time to come up with great spells he either discovered or invented. If I could find one, just one, that could level the playing field…"
"Like what?" Soos asked after Dipper started flipping pages, three at a time.
"No idea!" Dipper growled. "I don't know! Okay!?" Dipper snapped. "All I know is that my sister and my g– my b– ugh– Wendy was taken!" Dipper snapped.
"Hey, Soos quietly said, "Bro, they're important to me too."
Dipper breathed heavily, looking to the injury behind Soos's eyes. Those eyes gave Dipper solace. It might be them versus the world, but it wasn't just one. Relenting on his anger, Dipper quietly said, "You're right. Sorry, man."
Soos said. "Dipper, dude, we're pretty close about stuff, right?" he asked, looking around nervously.
"Uh, yeah?"
"Well, uh," Soos started, "Because I think I may have an answer to this."
"Wait, what?" Dipper gasped. "What? How?"
"Uhh, more like a who," Soos specified. When Dipper frowned, Soos held up his hands. "Now, don't get crazy or anything dude, but I met a-"
Bang, bang, bang.
There was a loud pounding on the doors behind them.
Dipper dived for this phone, and shut if close with a snap. "Hide," he desperately whispered.
Soos rushed into the curtains, twirling them around himself. As he hid, or tangled himself (it was hard to tell in the darkness), Dipper scooped up all the journals and dived into one of the coffins.
Bang. The doors rattled.
BOOM.
The doors swung wide open, and a figure stomped inside. Shadowed by the claps of lightning in the sky behind him, the figure looked around. From the crack in his hiding coffin, Dipper saw… full hair on the person's head. Also, the person didn't have the literal scent of death on him. But it wasn't Zander…
"Okay, come on out, I can see you tangled in that curtain," the person said, a rigid, tensed voice filled with authority.
Soos took it as a declaration of war. "Pterodactyl bros never surrender!" Soos shouted, and attempted to dive out from the curtain. The fabric did tear, but his momentum was stalled, and fell flat on his face with a loud thud. "Ouch. Hey, don't mind that, I'm not actually here," Soos said, his voice muffled.
The man above him, oblivious to Dipper creeping out of the coffin, said down to Soos, "Yes, of course, you're very convincing about how you're not actually here."
Soos sighed. "Oh good. Thought you'd notice me."
"Of course, I noticed you!" the man barked. "Now come on out, and explain to me what's-"
Dipper roared and swung out with his book. His attack was on point. The man's head fell forward and he yelled, lifting a hand to hold the injury on his skull Dipper gave. The man collapsed next to Soos. The handyman rolled aside, briefly flattening the person under his considerable weight. Dipper wound up for another swing with the journal, but the man extended a hand out. "Wait!" he cried.
"Give me a reason!" Dipper called. "Two questions why Soos and I shouldn't pummel you here and tie you into a coffin!"
Soos had stood, freeing himself from the curtains. The newcomer, his head crestfallen, sighed. "I have an answer. The answer is simple: two questions."
"What?!" Dipper snapped, threatening violence with his journal as he raised it higher, "You can't expect me to let you do that! Answer a question with more questions!"
The shadowed person on the floor replied, matter of fact-ly, "It's scientifically accurate to all of life's questions, and that beyond our understanding of such: to only find a question instead of an answer."
Dipper paused, and blinked. Wait… That voice. The man slowly stood back up, dusting himself off.
"Now, first question," the man slowly reached into a pocket in an autumn coat, and pulled out a picture. Soos, who stood next to Dipper while wrapped in his curtain, gasped with Dipper. The picture he held was one Mabel had taken one- a picture of the four of them, Yuki, Arline, and Stanley, all in the woods next to the Mystery Manor. The voice asked, "How is it you know my brother?!"
Trembling, Dipper said, "You– you're– wait," Dipper stepped back, and lifted up his phone, "It can't be."
He turned on the flashlight function on his phone.
As light flooded the room, it was unmissable. He seemed younger, healthier, and kinder than Dipper had last seen him, but it was him.
Then, putting away the picture, Stanford Pines asked, "And secondly, have you seen three thick leather-bound journals? They have a funny golden six finger hand on the front of each cover?" he lifted his hand, displaying six functional fingers on his hand, "Like this? See?"
Soos nudged Dipper. "So, I'm just going to take my cue. If you need me, I'll be right behind you." Then Soos's eyes rolled back into his head, and he fell into the ground with a loud crash as he fainted.
And so part two has ended of the Haunted Mansion. Yet this was only part 1 of TWO! 'Spectral Revelations' is the conclusion of this smaller over-arching dual episode, and ALSO the conclusion of Act 1 of Season 3, or if you think of every 10 episodes as a season, Season 4. Numbers, numbers, numbers: I'm a writer, not a math…guy.
So.
Stanford.
You all begged, and begged, and BEGGED for him to show up, but this has been in the works since season two (both in the ten-episode a season sense, and in the entire season 2). Ever since his reveal in the actual show, I knew I wanted him to arrive: his voice is just as distinctive as the rest of the cast. I want to remind everybody though: this is not the Stanford you know from the show. As some of you have guessed, this is a younger Stanford. The Reason? Well, things will be revealed soon enough.
And on a similar note, I wanted to explain something again. I think I briefly covered this a while ago, but I'm going to re-iterate: the canon of this story vs the show.
RtGF fallows show canon all the way until 'Not What He seems'. The past of Gravity Falls, the ties to Stanford and Stan, and the history of the world itself, have changed. Yet… I have explanations to how that change itself could be… canon!? :O
Until next week, this is EZB, singing away with…
(EZB adopts a cane and top hat, and begins to sing. The more he sings, the more skeletal he becomes until he is nothing more than a spooky scary skeleton. Want to know what he sings?)
(Translate below, after the end scene)
On the top floors of a luxury apartment, at the top floor where only the richest of rich guests can stay, a man in a long, black cloak paced by a large bed, holding out a phone. A silver mast as against his face, and he grumbled to himself.
Behind him, sitting at a table and a small sitting couch, three members of the paths watched him.
"Still won't connect?" Drew, the youngest of the three watching him nervously asked as he strummed a note from the strings on his guitar.
"Fifth time," the voice of the Master of the Paths noted.
By the table, the pixie-cut woman noted to her peers, "It's weird seeing him this upset about something," Maureen, the small woman of pixie red hair said.
The Guardsman replied, "I'm not upset." He continued to pace, never giving his students a look.
The third one, Darren, the bulkier bald man with light skin, snorted and said, "Just nervous enough to pace for ten minutes straight, looking at a phone."
The Agent looked to the three, and their interested or bemusement fell. No spell was required for the Agent of the Paths to conduct energy at a whim. They felt his tension the moment he cast it towards them. He was not just nervous. He was downright concerned.
The voice, often cold and level, seemed agitated. "These kids don't use magic. Ever. They could, but they know better than to use it," the Guardsman explained, "It's dangerous and corruptive. But… I know I just heard Dipper Pine's voice calling me."
With a few other strings plucked, Drew mumbled, "That's weird that a kid could do that."
"He's your age," Rushtar reminded him.
"Sorry, whatever. I'm still taller," Drew shrugged.
The Guardsman, squeezing the phone, added, "He contacted me, saying that he's in over his head, and that his sister is in trouble." The plastic whined softly as the pressure applied something formidable. "He wouldn't joke about his sister like that. He sounded panicked. Desperate, even."
"Well, I mean," Drew chuckled, "These are the kids that fought off those cultists last night. They're tough as nails!" he declared happily.
The pacing of the master stopped, and he looked to the young boy. "You think so?" he asked him.
Drew paused. "Well, I mean, uh, yeah?" Drew asked. He then noted, "Not saying that they're invincible or anything. I mean, if something old, ancient," as Drew listed, the Guardsman tensed his shoulders, looking away, "Very evil and powerful were to go up against them, I don't know if they'd definitely have it," he declared.
As the Guardsman hastened his pacing, Maureen scowled. "Way to go, kiddo."
"What?" the kid asked.
"On the path to calming him, and now he's back to staring at the phone," she waved to the Guardsman, who indeed, was staring at the phone. She added, "And that's saying something – old folk like him hate tech."
"Well, it's not like we can really do anything, right?" Drew nervously asked. "I'm not sure we have teleporting capabilities."
"No," the Guardsman loudly declared, "You don't."
He turned around, and marched through the three, stepping around their chairs as they all stood up and stepped aside. He pulled out the windowed doors, and revealed the balcony from which they could see the city they resided in. As the wind's breeze entered the room, the Guardsman turned back to them once. He told them, "If I'm not back by mid-morning tomorrow, get everyone to the safehouse."
As she walked closer to him, Maureen asked, "Uh, wait, what are going to-"
She, and the other two gasped as the man in the black cloak jumped off the railing. Then, instead of falling to the ground in rapid plummet, soared away like a bullet. The air rushed around them as a gust of wind was left in his wake. The woman actually cried out, holding a hand before her face as a backlash of wind billowed throughout the bedroom.
A minute passed before any of them spoke.
Drew lifted a hand slowly up. "Was I the only one who didn't know he could do that?" he asked.
The other two shook their heads.
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