The Return to Gravity Falls

by EZB

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

102. Gaunter Haunter: Part 1

Hidden in the vast woodlands of Yellowstone National park, hidden beyond the borders of the river by the same name, was a recently constructed compound of concrete, steel, and cables. It was deep inside a cluster of trees, perhaps a quarter of a mile west of the river. Chain linked fence and a legion of warning signs repelled visitors from using any of the nearby roads. Not that visitors would come; the nearby walking paths and roads had all been blocked off with a plentiful number of false construction signs. These signs, and the newly constructed compound, were all illegal. They had been placed and constructed by members of the Rising Grasp.

This compound was a large, four story mish-mash of a building. A tower in the center overlooked the cleared land, and a collection of unaligned squares for structures hugged around the spire. Hidden within the largest of the square buildings was a series of corridors, stretching around a number small, dark rooms. These rooms, with many of their doors still open, displayed dozens of individually kept prisoners. They were restrained, each with a monitor or television displaying videos of a young, scowling, one-eyed young man, telling them about his master plan. They all were being conditioned. In time, they would, without great resistance, serve the cause of Graupner Kinley; the man on the screen.

Marching with an eager gait, a cloaked, one-eyed man stormed down the hallway. Graupner Kinley was flanked at his side by Alvis Leuthor. As the two passed groups of their faithful followers, the cultists would bow in reverence to Graupner.

Hardly noticing their efforts to please him, he asked his second in command, "He's been sealed?"

Leuthor, seeming to restrain an amount of worry, said, "For now. It took time, but he resisted your spell. Thus I imagine we have limited time before he discerns a means of escape."

Graupner sneered. "We won't give him that opportunity."

"No?" Alvis asked, "The plan then is to act immediately?"

The cruelty in Graupner's eye hardened. "He'll barely have time to think before we can complete the deal. Then it won't matter what he can and can't do." They stepped out into a larger workspace, a massive garage filled with vehicles and other working cultist. Approaching a doorway, the two paused for a moment. Graupner turned to his lieutenant. He decided, "We're going to begin the ritual as soon as we can. I don't want anything else potentially getting in our way. This will be the final piece that seals our deal with Cipher."

As a nearby television blared with the sounds of violence, watched by other cultists, Alvis nodded. He stated, "That can be done. I'll need to begin the glyph. It should only take a few hours, being careful of course." Alvis waited for Graupner. The man seemed distant. Alvis cleared his throat, and asked, "Do you want me to take point with the ritual, or shall you?"

No response still. To Alvis's shock, Graupner seemed entirely gone. He was slowly turning to the television. Alvis too focused on the device, wondering what had drawn the attention so completely away.

As far as Alvis could tell, it was a crime-drama. The scene seemed to be some sort of home being invaded by a gang, or mafia of some sort. There were guns, and screaming, and all manners of violence and drama. Alvis snorted. Compared to what the Rising Grasp had already done, it was fairly tame. He looked to Graupner, a joke ready to be cracked.

Graupner seemed frozen. He was locked onto the television, his eyes wide. His hands shook, rigidly placed at his side. Though the man needed not to breath, Graupner was starting to take quick shallow breaths. If Alvis didn't know better, he would have said that his 'master' was enduring some amount of sudden panic.

Alvis cleared his throat loudly, and caught the attention of the cultist engrossed with the show. Noticing him and Graupner, they all shot up, and bowed. To them Alvis asked, "If you wouldn't mind turning that off?" Quick to oblige, the four rushed to turn the TV off, and then returned to their duties. Seeing that Graupner's tense body language was fading away, he again asked, "Do you want to take point with the ritual, sir?"

"Y-Yes," Graupner mumbled, wiping his face with his hands. With a sudden flick of his hands, a bolt of green fire struck at the TV, exploding it violently.

A small hum aside, Alvis was unimpressed with the display. "Not a fan of crime shows, sir?"

Graupner eyed the man dangerously. His one eye shone with the green light flickering from the broken device. He then told him, "I hate… gunfire in houses." He then sourly marched ahead. Calling over his shoulder, he cried out, "Make sure we don't get any more interruptions!"

Watching Graupner storm ahead, Alvis smirked. Eying to the side of the room, there were a number of cultists who looked back at Alvis. Those other people, those cultists, carefully watched Alvis, waiting. They shared, though brief, a silent bit of communication. The second-in-command shook his head slightly, indicating something not be done… yet. Those cultists very faintly nodded, and continued to go about their business.

With that, Alvis Leuthor strode forward, ready to continue in his task: acting compliant. From his pocket, a small buzz emanated. He reached in and withdrew a cellphone. Flicking it open, he asked, "What is it?"

"Sir," a voice called to him, "We've found the location of the remaining path members and the survivors of Gravity Falls. They're at a motel by the Mississippi river."

Alvis grinned. More to himself, he said, "Yore's information was accurate. Very good," he cleared his throat, and then declared, "Do what you can to acquire the Corduroy girl, and if possible, their collection of unique stones. She's still a valuable back-up in case our current plan fails. Collecting those valuables would also be very helpful."

"Yes sir," the voice then asked, "And the others?"

Alvis, hardening his gaze as he knew what he was about to say, declared, "Separate the wheat from the chaff. Do what you must to get Corduroy. Do what you can to collect the Starkissed stones. By any means necessary."

---

"Understood, sir," said the servant of Graupner Kinley. This person turned their head to their left and said, "The word is given."

A pair of dark, unmarked vans had parked just outside a motel. They were filled with such servants of Graupner Kinley; wearing dark, otherwise unremarkable clothing. The one who had spoken on the phone had confirmed something to the driver of their particular van, and therefore to those within. They, like their companions, wore a simple black hat that held up their hair, and a thin, long-sleeved shirt to obscure their body. They all were dressed this way. A dozen figures readied themselves. With a huff, one of these people pulled open a door, and they swarmed out, into a crumbling parking lot.

The other van had a similar evacuation. Twenty five armed people stalked into the daylight, armed with strange, firearm-like weapons. They approached the front desk of the motel, a small office that was cupped under the shadow of the rooftop above. Their approach was not unnoticed. There were a few individuals who spotted them coming – visitors and other irrelevant people. One of the cultists announced, "If they interfere, kill them. We stop for no one."

The others nodded, and in groups of three, the cultists fanned out. Six trios made to prowl around, climbing up stairs to second floors, or going around the building. The largest group, made of seven, approached the office and entered the door. It was a mostly clean interior, with a single occupant. A young lady, on her cellphone, animatedly chattered, "No – way – he did not say that?"

The cultists approached her desk. Weapons visible, but not directed, the 'lead' of the seven cleared their throat and said, "We need to find Miss Corduroy. She's part of a large party. Where are they?"

The girl barely glanced towards them, and said, "One moment please, I'll help you then, okay? Okay," And the young woman said to her phone, "Sorry, Anna, I gotta go. I got a bus of larpers, or something. Yeah. I know! Right?" The leader of the group scowled, and reached for the phone, snatching it from her hands. The young lady yelled, "Hey! What gives-" and took in the sight before her.

With a certain declaration of intent and ability, the lead cultists held her phone to the side. Held by the fingertips, the person aimed and fired their weapon at it. A beam of strange light tore through it like it was paper, and shaking the air of the room with a loud hissing blast. The young girl shrieked and fell back into her chair, hands up before her face.

A smoldering phone tossed to the ground, the lead cultist, heat in their eyes, said, "Corduroy. Part of a large party. Where is she?"

Hyperventilating, the young girl looked to a plaque on the wall. It was covered with small hooks, and on them was a master key. She looked back to the killers of her beloved cell phone, fear shimmering in her eyes. Trembling, she said, "If I give you those, can I leave?"

The cultist eyed the keys in question. They reached over slowly, and pulled them free, and then studied them. Keys in hand, they asked, "Which room has the largest party?"

"Uh- uh-" the girl reached for a small laptop, and scrolled rapidly through a spreadsheet. "There's two – one on the first floor, room one-zero-seven, or room two-zero-three. No one named Corduroy checked in though!" she declared, holding hands to her face. "P-Please don't hurt me!" she squealed.

Seemingly satisfied, the person turned away, and walked out the door. As the last of the seventh member of the party departed, the terrified girl began to groan, "I hadn't paid that off yet! C'mon!"

The lead of the seven spotted two of their trios patrolling. They nodded to them, and called out, "Check two-zero-three."

As six rushed for the stairs, the seven strode for the lower-level floor: one-zero-seven. Behind the leader, the other six checked their weaponry, and a sinister whirr and hum emanated through the air. Like each were holding a hive of electronic wasps, they approached the door. The key held out, the cultist opened the door.

What was before them was a perfectly kept room. No one was inside, nor was there any evidence of this room having been occupied. It was clean, tidy, and somewhat dusty, even. The cultists looked about, their eyes piercing through the shadowed room.

The leader sneered, and noted, "This could be a trap. They might be cleaning up after themselves to make it seem like they're not here." They turned around to their companions, saying, "We must be on-"

Their eyes widened as they turned about and found themselves alone. There was no sound of their companions having departed, nor a scuffle. What had happened?! The plan had been to stick close, and take down each hostile force, one-by-one. How did they lose six others?

They raised their weapon, and realized that, for some reason, their laser was oddly quiet. They looked to it, and went to say, "What is going on?" but they could not hear the voice from their mouth. If they hadn't been worried before, they certainly were panicked. Something wrong had happened. Things were quiet. They could not see, nor hear, their companions.

From the office, the door swung open. The cultist spun to it, their weapon readied. They heard the young lady from inside run out, her feet scraping the ground. She saw the cultist and screamed, holding her hands up. "Don't hurt me, please!" she shouted.

The cultist was near ready to do just that, to strike out. As they readied their weapons, they could not hear the humming of their energy weapon. They hadn't a clue as to how this was happening, or what. They made to shout something, to demand answers. No noise came from their mouth. Then their neck hurt, very suddenly, and the world melted away. Their body was heavy, and their eyes drooping. They needed to sleep.

When they would open their eyes next, they were still heavy, and felt horribly stiff in the neck. They could hear something, but it was muffled. They couldn't see anything either – for something soft was pressed into their eyes. They could hear voices, unfamiliar and jovial.

Trying to get a foothold, the cultists mumbled, "What… what is going on?"

A startled voice cried out, "Ah! Dude, their boss is up!"

Another voice, excited beyond belief, cried out, "I'll get them! It's interrogation and torture time!"

The first voice stammered, "Wh-what? Hambone, I thought Dipper said-"

"Shhh!" the second voice hissed, "We're not gonna! It's just an intimidation attempt."

"Oh- oh! Right. Yeah, I getcha."

A door swung open somewhere, only to slam shut a second later. Still unable to see, the lead cultist groaned, "Who is that? Where am I?" They attempted to move their legs to stand. They felt wrapped around something behind them. They went to move their arms, and found that they too were locked in place. They had been tied to the very chair they found themselves sitting in.

Realization sitting in, the cultist attempted to leap up. "Untie me!" they yelled.

A few footfalls announced someone approaching. A plush hand was placed on the cultist, just at the tip of the forehead. Following this, that first voice from before asked, "Hey, bro, maybe like don't freak out? And stuff?"

This only encouraged the cultist to flail as violently as they could. Gnashing at the air, they screamed, "How dare you apprehend me! You are stopping servants of the powerful, all-knowing, vengeful lord Graupner, the most powerful Lich of our world!"

"Yeah, but dawg, you're stuck. So, like, you can't do anything right now. Just relax. Chill, bruh."

Fury filled the cultists's veins like fire. "I won't 'chill', I will not 'relax'! Let me go, or your deaths will be long, tedious, excruciating ordeals!"

"Wow, dude," the voice before the cultist stated, "that's pretty intense. I guess that's why you are the leader, or whatever."

Further away, the same door from before opened, and a parade of movement approached. Fury was slowly tempered as two, five, seven, even more pairs of feet than the cultist had imagined started to surround them. They felt, just from the straining floors, that they were in a wooden, small room. It creaked with age, and the smell of dust hit their nostrils.

A new voice, older than the previous two, and filled with something akin to worldly experience, demanded, "Talk, and you can consider a life with less broken limbs."

The cultist smirked. Lips curled, they retorted venomously, "Go ahead, foolish cretins."

The excited voice from before parroted, "Foolish cretins?"

Another voice, this one more tired sounding, said, "I dunno. They must have a really outdated evil lingo book."

Emboldened by their prior words, the cultist spat. "I will gladly accept your torture." Someone shuddered and groaned, causing the cultist to cackle. "Any chance to show my unwavering faith and power! My skin may flay, my muscles snap, my bones crack-"

"Okay!" the deeper, experienced voice from before cried out, "Okay, we get it, you're a masochist who is head over heels for a nepotistic murder-baby. Bleh. Apologies all, I'm used to creatures on the edge of reason, not humans brainwashed past help."

Someone mumbled, "Weird having you of all people say that."

The brighter voice stated, "That's okay! Not everyone has the ability and charm that I do. Maybe I can try?"

The cultist, along with a large group of other voices, groaned. Several voices muttered, "Really?" or, "I don't know about this, Mabes," or, "I am uncertain."

Someone spoke a little louder than the rest. A voice that was like a birdcall, higher-pitched and chirpy, asked, "Why not though? If we can't bully him, maybe she can at least try?"

Someone else from before, a tired sounding teen, muttered, "I have an idea?"

The cheerful voice from earlier shot up in octaves with a loud, "YES!" and the blinds were pried roughly from the head of the cultist.

Mabel had reached over and yoink'd off the blindfold and hopped around him. Everyone who had been running from or chasing the Rising Grasp was present - Dipper stood nearby, brow furrowed as he eyed the cultist, wearing a clean wrap around his head for a wound he recently received (from many years ago). Wendy Corduroy stood aside him, hands in her pockets as she scowled at the captive. Soos was nearby too, politely seated in a nearby chair as he eyed the scene. Behind him, looking grumpy with his arms crossed, was Stanford Pines; who had just retreated from his own attempts at interrogations. Behind the gang was the remaining members of the paths. If there was any real danger to the physical safety of the cultist, it was them. The look each held was a mixture of pain and fury.

The cultist went to speak, "You can try as much as you'd like-"

Mabel jumped into their face, nearly pressing her eyeballs into their own. She snapped, "Can it! You're our prisoner now, which means I get to decide when you live and when you watch back-to-back episodes of Delaware Shore!"

As all but Wendy shivered at the mention of the television show, the cultist froze. "Wh-What?" they asked.

Mabel sneered, "Oh, that's right. I have access to all episodes and seasons. All. Of. Them." The cultist, though not frightened, clearly felt a growing confusion. Mabel added with a smirk, "Along with cast and director commentary. Now that'll make you feel like the smartest person on the planet!"

"Threats won't sway me," the cultist smirked, "Not even the worst episodes of season two-"

Mabel gasped, "You wouldn't watch 'The two broken nails'!"

With an acidic grin, the cultist gloated, "Subtitles and all."

Mabel gagged. "He's beyond mortal reasoning! I can't!" She spun around, and dramatically fell. If she had expected someone to catch her, no one else had been alerted to that intention, for she slammed into the floor hastily and without resistance.

Dipper frowned. Taking a step closer to the cultist, he locked eyes with the bound person. They glared up at him. "Go ahead," they warned him, "Harm me. Grind my fingers and toes until they're nothing. I will die with the great, impossibly perfect masters secrets!"

The young twin's eyes twinkled. He reached for a nearby chair, and dragged it over. Clearing his throat, he then said, "Well, I guess that's true. Your master is pretty perfect."

"Hah! Beyond perfect."

"Right," Dipper nodded, and scratched at his meager chin-hair, "So, he's perfect. Yet I think I already know where he is."

The cultist gagged. "Wh-What!?"

Those behind Dipper clamored. He swiveled about, and quietly hissed, "Just go along with me!"

To his demand, Soos cried, "Oh, yeah, he's been known."

"Soo known," Wendy added with a confident nod.

One of the members of the path, the youngest named Drew, piped up, "Really, this is just a test to see if you know."

"That…" the cultist blinked and stared, "Seems unlikely."

"Oh yeah?" Dipper cocked an eyebrow, "Then tell me this. How come I know that his primary hideout is located in… Los Angeles!?"

The cultist puffed their lips out and pouted. "Because it's not?" they stated, "Why would he want a place that is so centrally located and busy?"

Dipper smirked, "Because it's perfect for him, obviously."

"It is not!" the cultist snapped.

With a widening grin, Dipper added, "Yes it is."

"No!" The cultist yelled, "He needs the isolation of deep wilderness for his reagents! Why else-" with a sudden and deep inhalation, the cultist realized what they had done. Their eyes widened larger than they had been yet, and their skin paled. "Oh no. What have I done!?"

His interrogator attention had not wanted – Dipper pressed his advantage. "Your act doesn't fool me," Dipper pointed at him, "After all, how else would he get so many people to follow him?"

Even emotionally distraught, the cultist flinched from the pointed, stuttering, "F-Follow him?"

Enjoying his performance, Dipper gloated, "I mena, Graupner isn't exactly charismatic. He needs a huge pool of people so he can scrape the bottom of the barrel, anyone who would believe his stupid ideas."

From sadness came fury. The cultist snapped forward, still bound, but lashing with their words. "How dare you!? The great master Graupner, most powerful Lich of the world, needs not to spend time convincing people to get to his isolated land! He brings them to the compound! It sometimes takes days to get people there, but it- wait- NO!" the cultist yelled at the ceiling, "What are you doing to me!?"

Leaning back into his chair, Dipper took a nice long breath. "Simple. He's perfect, isn't he?" he asked.

The cultist, mind splintering, cried, "Of course he is!"

Dipper easily parried, "But perfect is just a concept. It's just a perspective. To some people, my plan is perfect. To you, it's so bad it insults the idea of your great and powerful brainwasher. And you're all compelled to believe he's perfect, aren't you?" To his suggestion, the Cultist's froze. The cogs in the inner machinery of the cultists mind hit a pretty big snag. Sensing the collapsing perceptions, Dipper nodded to himself. He went ahead, adding, "I thought so. He made it so you're compelled to speak well of him. Which means that if someone speaks in a way you think is incorrect, you have to correct them."

Worry washing over the previously invulnerable cultist, they gulped loudly and trembled, "N-No!"

Dipper sighed. "Oh, well then… I guess it's just up to me to guess where it all is." He visibly pondered. Letting his performance last for a moment or two, he then hummed. "Hmm… He's at central park in New York city."

From fury came rage. The cultist, with spit flying from their mouth, shouted, "That's basically the same answer as before! Why would he go to New York instead of just using the untapped resources in Yellowstone!?" The group before the cultist gasped. Unaware of their reaction, the cultist spouted, "After all, the lack of major infrastructure made it ideal to set up his recruitment citadel there – that way the pesky government couldn't… couldn't…" The cultist, red in the face, and a deep rooted guilt spreading into their expression, slowly leaned back into their chair. "That's… not fair," they whined, eyes shimmering.

Mabel leapt back up from the floor, and solemnly warned the cultist, "When it comes to mind-tricks, Dipper's a meanie."

"And nothing is meaner than reverse psychology," Dipper concluded.

Stepping up between them, Wendy wrapped an arm around both, "Great job going all CIA on 'em," she said with a wink towards Dipper. He beamed at her, still uncertain how to behave with someone he cared so much about being so close to him.

From the group behind, the cool, collected tone of Nadan asked, "What is our next plan?"

"Oh, that's a given," said Stanford, who had been beaming at Dipper since his interrogation began, "we're going to-" A sob from the cultist cut him off. Standford cleared his throat. "Ahem. We're off-"

"Why am I such a failure?" the cultist moaned, "I have forsaken his perfectness. I have betrayed him! I do not deserve to live!"

As the cultist began to mentally collapse in on themselves, the group eyed one another. Ford groaned. "Okay, scrap my last plan, not that I had a chance to say it. We get outta this room first. They're bumming me out."

"All in favor?" Darren asked.

"Aye!" The entire group clamored.

"Opposed?" Rin asked.

The cultised cried, "I am opposed to living!"

Once the entire group had left the room, and closed the door behind them, Mabel cheerfully said, "I'm sure once they're collected by the cops they'll cheer up!"

Outside of one of their motel rooms, they passed by a window of their other rental- where a pile of squirming, tied up cultists glared at them all hatefully. A sneaky curl on the corner of her lips, Wendy stated, "They can do that with the others we beat up."

"Just to think," Stanford sighed, "One small spell of silence, and the ambush went smoothly. Almost like magic isn't the worst thing in the world," he added with a small bite of pride. The members of the paths, plus Mabel, groaned and boo'd.

"I'll magic your face if you don't explain the plan," Darren grumbled.

Marching down the stairs, Ford cleared his throat again. "Right," Ford nodded and eagerly continued, "With the authorities surely on their way, we need to be on the road a-s-a-p. Then, we are going straight into the heart of Yellowstone."

"Really?" Drew asked as they landed onto ground level.

Dipper was quick to explain. "When we lost Zan- err, the Guardsman, we lost our objective. He had someone building that source inductor, but I don't think he told any of us where that was, right?" A moment passed as the crew collectively shook their head, agreed, or hummed. "If we did, maybe we could just go there and activate it, or whatever, but unless we can just figure out where his plans are, that might not happen now. We also didn't know, until now, where Graupner was hiding."

"So, let me see if I understand correctly," Nadan stepped around to the group, halting their approach to their remaining vehicles, "We lost our leader, who seemed unstoppable, to our enemy. Now we are going to go straight into the heart of their power?"

"Yeah!" Mabel cheered, "It'll be easy!"

With a worried hum, Maureen spoke out, "Yeah, so, don't get me wrong here, but I don't see how going to where the enemy is strongest will be easy."

Assured from his past, Dipper stated with great confidence, "Because he'll never believe we'll want to actually go after him. He's spent weeks chasing us, and now he's seen our strongest ally beaten. If I was Graupner, I'd assume we'd all be fleeing; that we're afraid."

"But we're not!" Mabel cried out, "We're only a little nervous!"

"That," Dipper eyed his sister, "Isn't helpful. Look," he turned to the group around him, "I know we lost sight on whatever plan Zander had. We're just sitting on this pile of magic-like rocks for something. I'm sure he had a great idea; but we don't know it. Unless one of us have a clue to what it was, we just… need to do what we know we can do. And, as far as I can tell, what we can do is stopping that evil bastard from hurting more people!"

"So just charge him?" Darren asked, and chuckled, "I don't hate it, at least."

Rin piped up, her monotone voice soft, "He cannot be hurt by us."

"Yeah," Dipper nodded, "but he's not our next objective. He's able to act the way he has because of his resources. Remember what he said, that the place in Yellowstone was a recruitment citadel. That might mean there are multiple places we need to worry about. But if we disable that one-"

Stanford concluded, "He'll have fewer people to replace defeated cultists with."

"Not to mention," Soos added, "He'll probably not like that we break his things."

Mabel nodded thoughtfully. "Hm, yes, I do like it when stupid-face dislikes things we do."

"That's been the case, historically speaking," Soos reminded her.

"Okay, okay," Nadan nodded, "So… we're going in to destroy this compound. Not to kill graupner, but to disable his abilities to operate as steadily as he has been."

"And, if possible," Dipper added, "Find out what he wants, too. He keeps thinking we're going to stop him at whatever, but we really don't know what his big plan is."

"Assuming he has one other than dominating the world, or whatever," Wendy huffed.

Mabel rushed passed them, towards Dipper's car. "I call driver for the first half!"

One by one, into the remaining vehicles they went. It was a different atmosphere than the previous drive they all shared, one of necessity and discomfort. After the battle at Boston, ten crammed into the two cars, with one on Mabel's bike. It was often a cramped and uncomfortable situation. These two groups had often worked parallel, but never simultaneously. Without the bus of the paths in tow, they would be stuck with one another for quite some time. With such heavy worries behind them, it suddenly was a tad more… ambivalent. Initial quiet eventually bled into chatter. The ride became one, long, ice-breaker.

As conversation lead from one topic to another, the following hours swirled together like pigments of a wetted paint. After all, the distance from their little river-side motel to the heart of Yellowstone was a day away. The need for distraction or focus vied for control. As the hours on the road grew, the others had come to realize that Mabel had very much bitten off a challenge too large to chew. It was past noon when she had nearly hit a sign by the road. Being stubborn however, she refused to exchange seats.

"I have honor to defend!" she proclaimed after seven hours of driving non-stop to a car filled with Dipper, Drew, Nadan, and Ford. "Wendy can keep up with me!"

"Wendy has supernatural endurance," Dipper pointed out.

Mabel whined, "I have supernatural cuteness!"

"Debatable," Dipper grumbled.

With the worries from the other gentlemen in the car, Mabel was eventually subdued and retired to an on-off driver. They would all take turns as the drive cut through three states, even going so far as to exchange cars, seat arrangements. From it, a great acclimation began.

The survivors of Gravity Falls, as the members of the paths had come to call them, were slowly coming to realize how delightfully weird their elder counterparts were. Nadan was called out by Mabel as 'Number two, after a he settled a disagreement over lunch.

"But why number two?" he wondered to her.

"Duh!" she grinned, "Zander was the boss, and Arline was one! That means, as the person who they all look to for the final say, you're number two!"

Nadan, though clearly more upbeat after this assessment, was happy to be quiet and speak up only as needed. Dipper reasoned that it was a compliment as well as a morbid reminder to be considered a leader. Though confident in her own answer, Mabel would provide the occasional apologetic glance to the man.

Drew was quick to befriend Soos, and was all too eager to spend a lot of time chatting with Wendy, much to Dipper's displeasure. At a lunch stop, Dipper was bitterly pleased to hear her gently shoot down a request for a date. "I just don't really date musicians," Wendy shrugged to a deflated teen, "And I'm taken." Following a few mumbling apologies from the musician, Wendy would sit next to Dipper. "Even saving the world. Boys," she mumbled.

"We can't help ourselves," Dipper offered apologetically.

She snorted. "Trust me, I am aware," she elbowed him cheekily.

By the end of the day, and an exchange of drivers and passengers, it became, as Mabel put it, boy car and girls and Soos car. With the gentlemen in the car, it wasn't long before it became a game of 'scar story'.

"And this one," Darren pointed to a recess in his lower arm, "Was where I was training with swords, and someone was a little too eager to flail about."

"That was a stab?" Dipper gasped.

"Hah! No," he bemused, "the handguard bashed me, and it never really went back out the same way. And they still gave the guy full marks for his training. I was about ready to just kill the adjudicator."

Ford chuckled, and let the laughter peter out. He said, "I'm sure my brother would love to have shown you his own collection of maimings. He has quite a few that are from his days on the road, but some from the exploration years."

Dipper asked, "Like the one on his shoulder?"

"Shoulder?" For asked, curious.

"Yeah, the burn."

Ford's expression sunk. "Oh. Yes," he muttered, "I… I suppose that's one he'd have… yes."

By the end of the day of driving, and nearing their destination, they had found themselves at the side of a the road again, a feast of local sandwiches dispersed to all with an appetite. On the more excited end of the table, Maureen recounted a tale of her past.

"Now, we didn't know that the Warlock was closing in on us, like in the long-term. The Guardsman was always telling us to keep our stuff on the quiet, because of being spotted, right? Well, we didn't know what he really meant, so a few times we got into fights. Totally whooped butt, too."

Mabel whispered with shining, massive eyes, "The menace story."

"Oh yeah," Maureen smirked, "See, it's one thing for a girl to say no at a bar, and its apparently much worse to say no by throwing a grown man over her shoulder and into a wall. His friends didn't like that."

"No," Rin stated, "They did not."

Mabel turned her gaze to the tall woman. "Wait, all of you have cool stories – Rushtar, Menace, uh… Nadan…"

Nadan shrugged, "I was the only one who could convince Arline not to do something stupid."

"Wow!" Mabel gasped, and turned back to Rin, "So what did you do?"

Darren chuckled. "You are looking, Miss Pines, at the only one of us who actually listened to the rules that the Guardsman told us."

With the table around them laughing, Rin nodded and calmly added, "They were good rules."

Dipper, who was closer to the other end of the table, turned away to check on the only occupant present not eating. Wendy was leaning on her elbow, clearly listening in with interest. He warranted himself and her a pleasant smile and asked, "You okay?"

She nodded. "It's nice. It reminds me of when I left Gravity Falls during the school years."

"Why's that?"

She eyed him, and explained, "I had a few chances to hang with tourists going up and down the coast. People always have stories."

Reminded of a town that no longer existed, Dipper frowned. "I've been meaning to ask," he said quietly, and really looking into her eyes, "About that time in your past."

With a smart smirk, Wendy asked, "Oh, I wonder which one you could mean? I've got a lot of memories, Pines."

"P-Pines?" Dipper flinched, and calmed when she snickered and softly punched his shoulder. "O-Oh, god, don't do that. That was terrifying – I thought I did something wrong."

"Noted for the future," she added with a devilish grin.

"Wendy," Dipper tried a little more forcefully, smiling despite himself, "What do you actually remember about meeting me as Mason? Like… what was it like? What is with Kelly?"

The weather of teasing and fun faded away from Wendy like a cold front chasing away warm, sunny climates. She huffed and pouted onto the table, eyes darkening. "Well, dude, I dunno how to really explain it."

"Anything can help," Dipper encouraged her, a hand on her arm.

Looking to his fingers, Wendy frowned, the face of a thinking lumberjane. She finally said, "It really was her reversing time. Like… I've been thinking about it, what it felt like. And it felt like I was suddenly going through all the feelings I can't get anymore." She leaned up, and listed off with her fingers, "The intense hunger I'd feel. I had waves of exhaustion. I needed to drink so badly. All the little breaks and cuts and bruises I'm sure I'd have felt over the years –"

With a shudder, Dipper nodded, "Right, got it, she made you feel it."

"Sorta?" she guessed, "It was almost like she was undoing the curse by undoing time? So for a little bit, I did feel… me again," Wendy said hopefully, "but with a rush of everything I should have been feeling coming in with waves. I wouldn't recommend it."

Dipper nodded, reaching into his vest for his journal. With a quick note taken, he asked her, "And your memory?"

At that, Wendy snorted. "Oh, dude, honestly, I really remember that day crystal-clear. I mean, it's weird to think that was, like, for you four just a few hours ago or whatever, but that was one of those core memory things, right? Like, I still remember Mason and," Wendy snickered, "Mary telling me that I have the ability to be cool if I want to. I might have taken it too far, honestly."

"Why?"

"Because, dude," she shoved him, "you two were the raddest thing to have ever happened to me until I worked at the Mystery Shack with Minster Pines! I mean, I know you two didn't grow up in those woods, but the kids always knew weird things were going on. It was awful, cus I guess the adults were all getting mind-erased. They thought the kids were just attention-seeking weirdos."

"Relatable," Dipper snorted.

"So, here comes you two, suddenly saying that not only is it real, but you're, like, encouraging us to do seek answers. I mean, you remember when you were twelve in Gravity Falls."

With a solemn, understanding Nod, Dipper agreed, "I hated it when people told me to stop looking for the weird and strange."

"Just imagine when this tall, hot, sweet guy is telling you to keep at it!" Wendy exclaimed, "Of course that was a huge moment."

A little redder in the face than before, Dipper asked, "You think I was tall and hot?"

To his request, she leaned over and rested her head onto his own shoulder. "Mmhmm. And here we are, Mason," she added, eying at him from the shoulder, "Still thinking it."

Following a shudder, Dipper pleaded, "Don't call me Mason, please. That's Dipper-is-in-trouble name."

"So," Wendy pondered, "If I just called you Mason Pines…"

"Oh," Dipper smiled at her with all the politely pleasantries in the world, "I know that I have until you find me to enjoy life before it ends." The two of them chuckled.

The highway beckoned them all once more. Post-sandwich dinner car arrangements were made, and the seats were scrambled. Wendy was a prominent driver of the bike during the night-time journey, as no amount of fatigue caused her to err. Between rest and the surges of energy the passengers and driver felt, there were more chances to bond.

During a few hours of the trip, Dipper had the blessing, or curse, of realizing that Mabel and Maureen shared a hobby; singing. Between several boybands and, naturally, Female Monarch, the two of them sang their lungs, and throats, out. Before long, the two of them were dead asleep. Dipper was pleased that Wendy was not in the same car as them; he wondered if she'd be jealous over the rest they got.

As morning approached, and the seats were re-arranged, Soos and Dipper sat with Rin, Ford, and Nadan. Ford and Nadan had, apparently, spent much of the first half of the night discussing and debating the merits of magic, much to the exhaustion of the others. From the previous talks, they had spent their energy, and were quite tuckered out. Asleep, it was Soos, Dipper, and Rin who were left awake enough for polite, quiet conversation.

"So," Soos, taking his turn at driving, asked Rin, "You're, like, pretty tall."

Rin said nothing.

"Cool," Soos noted, eying her in the mirror, "And you're strong."

Again, Rin said nothing.

"So… what do you, like, do when you're not fighting cultists?"

Rin decidedly said, "I write poetry."

"Oh, sick dawg," Soos congratulated her, "What kinda? Does it rhyme? Like goose and Soos?"

"Please focus on the road, Soos."

"Oh, yeah that's fair."

Many points during the trip did Dipper find himself slipping into a restless sleep. He saw many things in the bursts of memory and dreams. The young Wendy he and his sister defending him, the fall of Zander at the hand of Graupner's cultists. Sometimes he heard a deep voice come from the face of Graupner, laughing. Sometimes he heard the poisonous laughter of Bill Cipher; but none of it was real.

In the early hours of the second day, the car jolted.

"W-What?" Dipper, shot awake, wiped his eyes as rapidly as he could, looking around.

As the other car occupants stirred, Soos, looking a tad tired but certainly still awake, pointed ahead. Grimly, he said, "Hey, I wonder if Gideon Gleeful is working on the roads here too!"

Ahead of the stopped car was a long line of traffic. An army of street warning signs were stacked along the side of the road.

'Warning – road closed ahead.'

'Construction – 2 miles.'

'Turn around.'

Leaning into the side window as much as he could, Dipper peered ahead. Far ahead, even visible to their current location, there was a massive mound of earth that had slid from a nearby hill onto the road, completely cutting it off.

"No way," he snapped, and rolled the window down.

The country around them was stunning. The hills were lush with tall wildgrass and native bushes. The trees were tall and lanky, thin enough that the woods were sort of transparent- visible much further than what Dipper was used to. Based on his limited research and previous understandings of the area, he correctly assumed, "We're on the edge of Yellowstone!"

Pulling up alongside the right of them, the driver-window to Grunkle Stan's El Diablo rolled down, revealing Mabel. Unphased by any lack of rest, she called out, "Hey! Looks like there's an officer-lady walking this way. We sure this is the way to get in the fastest?"

"Yeah, it should be!" Dipper called back. Slouching back into his seat, Dipper hummed, "Awfully convenient."

"Uh, bro, I dunno about that," Soos chortled, "I mean, it's not like we can just go over the traffic, or around it. So, like, its definitely the opposite of convenient."

"Not for us, Soos!" Dipper grumpily retorted. "If Graupner wanted to keep people away, one of the best methods was probably just to cut off the roads and other means of transportation."

"Oh," Soos nodded, "So… still inconvenient for us, though."

Rolling his eyes, Dipper noted an approaching state trooper. Shock from the delay washing off him, Dipper waved his hand, gaining the woman's attention. A rounder, bulkier person, she approached and curtly said, "Morning folks. Sorry to tell you, best thing is to turn around and find a different route around the park."

Curiosity and anger boiling together, Dipper asked, "Why? Around the park?"

She nodded. "Route fourteen has a massive landslide ahead. Gonna need special equipment and probably weeks to fix it. Freak accident, I hear," she added with a sigh.

Suddenly leaning past Dipper to look at the officer, Soos asked her with a chuckle, "I suppose you don't know another way to get, like, in Yellowstone, do you?"

The woman frowned, but thought. She pointed the direction they had come, "Head back east on fourteen. A bit back you'll want to look for signs to one-twenty north. Get on there, then take two-nintey-six, okay? Then, look for two-twelve north and west. That'll take you along the north edge of the park."

"Sweet! Thank you, officer ma'am," Soos said, providing her a thumbs up. Checking with Dipper and the others, he said, "I guess that way, then?"

"Not like we have another option," Dipper grumbled, pulling out his phone, "but from what I know, that area is another four hours drive, and has less signal. Almost none, as far as I know."

From the back, Ford offered, "But it still get's us moving again. I vote for trying it."

"Yeah," Dipper sighed, and nodded, "Take us outta here, Soos."

"You got it, bro," Soos nodded, and spun the wheel about.

With a quick call to Wendy and Mabel, Dipper was able to catch the other car to the re-route. Surely, another four hours wouldn't be the difference between success and failure? Either way, they were making no progress moving ahead. Spun about and looking for the signs, the two vehicles found the north-bound highway of two hundred and twelve. About two and a half hours into the drive, they came upon a similar sight.

Now driving, Dipper roared, "No!"

Screeching the tires to a halt, the two vehicles came to sudden stops. They were alone on this road, save for the massive road-block ahead of them. Steel blockades had been erected, also plastered with signs.

"Are. You Kidding me!?" Dipper snapped, and kicked at the military-grade road barricade.

"Welp," Mabel skipped over, examining the tiny dent her brother made in his rageful strike, and noted, "With my powers of investigation, I think Graupner had a thought, even for a single minute. With his thought, he has decided to block off all the roads."

"Great," Ford mumbled, "There goes hours of re-routing for another dead end."

"Well," Nadan put his hand on a safe part of the construction, and pushed it. The metal whined, but there was no buckling. He strained with a harder push, and let go, shaking his arm. "I am afraid to say that it is, to my best study, not going to break easily."

"Well what now?" Drew whined, having just removed some of the bandages he had been wearing since the fight at Boston. "We're still, like hours away from the spot the crazy person told us about."

As Wendy withdrew her phone and punched away, Dipper paced. "I suppose we could try attacking the blockade? No one being here means we could just blow through it and keep going."

Speaking up, Rin said, "I'd not."

With exception to Wendy, still busy on her phone, the gang turned to her. Dipper inquired, "And… why not?"

Rin held her hands out, explaining, "If he has blocked off the roads, he likely has eyes upon them. Should we bypass this delay, we will not be able to approach undetected. He has, despite his boasting of invulnerability, acted cautiously. We should respect the warning."

"Ugh!" Mabel groaned, "I don't want to respect anything stinky Kinley has ever done."

Wendy stepped closer, "I have an idea, actually." With eyes on her, she held aloft the screen she was looking at, "There's thousands of miles of Yellowstone national park. Roads are easy to monitor, but you know what isn't?" she grinned and said, "Wilderness."

"Wait," Drew groaned, "We're going to hike to the bad guys?"

"You know," Darren thought aloud, "With all this sitting around, I actually could be okay with that."

Defeated and ignored, Drew clapped a hand to his face. Wendy threw a thumb over her shoulder,stating "There was a parking lot back that way a few miles. If we go there, there's a hiking trail that we can consider using to go into the wilds."

"Regroup at parking lot!" Mabel roared, and darted for the driver seat closest to her.

Thirty minutes later, the ten had congressed outside a simple parking lot. Surrounding them was the true majesty of the Yellowstone park – forested hills, pale yellow stones, cool breezes. By the hood of Dipper's car, the ten circled.

"So," Wendy cracked her neck, "If this park is anything like back home, here's how I think this should work," she held her phone, and dragged along an internet-hosted map of the massive parks, "There's a trail that leads south, and then turns west towards a place called Amethyst mountain. Now if we followed the trail past that, it'd lead towards the road. But, we don't want the roads. That means we should keep going, but instead turn southwest and trailblaze at the peak of the mountain southwest, then we can cut a clean shot all the way towards Yellowstone lake."

Darren nodded, looking a tad distant. "And that's… the heart of the park?" he asked.

"More or less," Wendy shrugged.

Ford added, "And if there's going to be signs of his misdeeds, it'd be there. Anything that gets us closer to his central fortress is a step in the right direction."

Maureen nodded, and said aloud, "So, just to double-check, we hike that way," she turned and pointed to a dirt trail that snaked up the beautiful mountains behind them, "Look for a clearing in the woods on some serious elevation. That's Amethyst. Then, turn south-west and start backpacking into the wilds."

Mabel chirped, "This sounds easy!"

"Which is why," Nadan said firmly, "we're going to be the ones doing it."

"Uh, yeah," Dipper snorted, "Of course we are."

"No, no," Nadan said again, and eyed him, "The paths."

The pause that followed quickly divided the ten. Dipper laughed despite himself. "I- what!? What do you mean only you guys?"

"Yeah, what gives?!" Mabel snapped, "We are super-good at hitch, itch, and mitch-hiking!"

Ford added, "Please explain yourselves. We've been under the assumption that we're working together."

"We are," Nadan proclaimed, and took a large breath. "I know you want to be included in this mission, I truly understand that. The guardsman trusted you to collect the stones and work with the wonderful and strange things that naturally congregated nearby them. Our job was, and still is, to battle the Warlock, the lich, Graupner- whatever he calls himself now."

Soos pointed out, "But we totally can throw down, dawg."

"I know you can," Nadan chuckled, "I've seen it many times now. From the motel, boston, just hearing the Guardsman talk about your growing skills and abilities, it is why I know we need to not put our eggs into one basket."

Rin nodded, added a quick "I agree."

"Besides," Darren chuckled, "Who else is going to keep the cars safe and ticket-less?"

"No one is coming by," Dipper scowled.

"That we know of," Nadan pointed out.

From the tense pause in conversation, Ford groaned, "I hate to say it-"

"No, don't," Dipper pleaded.

"But I agree with him," Ford answered anyway. "This journey is dangerous enough, and with a lot riding on it. If something happens, we are the reinforcements!"

Despite Dipper's indignation, Mabel gave it an audible thought. Scratching her chin, she admitted, "I don't think we've really ever been the cavalry before. That's kinda cool."

Fuming, Dipper shook his head. "We've been fighting Graupner, running from Graupner, and beating Graupner all summer. I get that you're all super-martial artists, but we know him the best. We know what he'll do, how he'll act."

"And likewise, he'll know you," Nadan pointed out, "But we are still a novice topic for him to learn."

"In unknown territory," Dipper heatedly argued.

"Again, the same is true if you go," Nadan calmly replied. Seeing the fire in the young twin's eyes, Nadan's stern posture softened, and he gave Dipper a nod. "Dipper, this mission is one of stealth. Five people will be harder to notice than ten."

If there was something that ate at Dipper's heart and mind, it was being wrong. What was harder to deal with was the heat of knowing he was wrong, but having dug his heels into the earth hard enough to not want to ease off. He had debated Grunkle Stan for entire summers before, he could handle this calm-minded martialist. He opened his mouth, ready to bicker –

And a hand reached out to his shoulder, and rested there. Without turning, he knew that hand. Wendy was often an exciting force to his mind, and perhaps now, a calming one.

Dipper let out the steam in one long exhale. "Okay. Okay, fine." He turned to face Wendy, a small, thankful smile on his lips. To her, he asked, "How long will their hike be?"

She eyed them. "There and back? Depends. If they're hiking-hiking, a day. If they really hoof it, maybe twelve hours, maybe a little longer."

Devastation grew into Drew's eyes. He proclaimed aloud, "We're going to be gone, stuck in the woods, for a day!?"

"If we jog it, maybe longer," Darren chuckled, "C'mon kid, think of the cardio!"

As Drew whined with existential dread, Nadan told them, "Then it's simple. We're going in as soon as possible. We travel light, fast, and quiet. While we're gone, stay here, were there is at least some signal. Maybe we'll call, but don't count on it. Stay down, low-key, and at the ready. If we come charging out of those woods this evening and shout that we need to go, we will need to go."

Dipper nodded. Mabel grinned, telling them, "You're going to do great! We'll stay behind and look pretty!" Drew snorted, and Mabel look livid. "Got something to say, Alto?"

Drew, fearing for his life, took a wide step back, shaking his head. Maureen snickered, and complimented Mabel, "Got a little menace in yourself."

"Well then," Ford cleared his throat, "I hate to say it, but daylight is burning."

"Yeah, yeah," Darren snorted, and turned for the trees, "Desperate to get rid of us, we get it."

Maureen cheered, "We'll be back as soon as possible!"

As Darren, Drew, Maureen, and Rin started jogging towards the trees, Nadan turned back to the others once more. "If we're not back by tomorrow morning… assume the worst." With the grim expressions he conjured with his words, he chuckled. "I suddenly see why the Guardsman never lingered after saying these things. Well, we'll see you all later. Stay safe."

Nadan too turned, and darted towards the foliage.

"Well," Soos shrugged, "I'm going to take a nap in the car. Let me know if someone needs to talk about food or do-it-yourself projects."

"Not a bad way to pass the time," Ford mentioned, "I'll also take a nap."

Wendy eyed the two. "Go for it," she said, "I'll keep watch."

"And I'll practice!" Mabel cheered. "Dipper," she turned to her brother, "C'mon, we should warm up!"

"If anything, we should try to cool down," he grumbled, "This whole summer is one, long, warm up to being an adult."

"Hah, yeah right bro. Adult life is going to be slow, boring stuff." Mabel snaked her arm around her brother's arm, dragging him to a quieter area of the parking lot.

"Hey," Wendy called. The two turned, seeing her approach, "Look, uh, you don't have to say yes, but… do you mind if I watch?"

Mabel beamed, shaking with anticipation. "Uh, yeah! Of course!"

"You've watched us practice before," Dipper noted, "Why would it be a problem now?"

Crossing her arms and deflating a little, Wendy admitted, "I just… I've been kind of out of focus recently. Just didn't want you two to think you couldn't ask for time to yourselves, if you needed to."

"Daww!" Mabel leapt over, bounding to the uncertain redhead. "Do you wanna learn?"

Wendy went a little pink. "I, uh, um-"

"If I can do it," Dipper chuckled, "Then… I mean, c'mon."

Wendy rolled her eyes, a calm smile returning to her lips. "Okay, fine, if it'll help pass the time."

"Oh, it sure will!" Mabel cheered, "Time is going to go by so fast with us practicing together!"

The morning practice did indeed fly the time by. To Dipper and Mabel's surprise, Wendy struggled to pick up some of the more basic means of the paths. She was, more often than not, far more willing to let the twins just hit her. After Dipper really socked her in the eye once, while he panicked and apologized, she would say, "I mean, it doesn't do anything to me, right? No worries," she would shrug. She would be reminded, of course, the point of it all was to hit and defeat without being hit.

Awakening first from his nap, Soos was eager to provide a breakfast to all. "I was able to turn the sandwiches we packed up into breakfast burritos. No that anything from them were good for burritos, but anything wrapped up in a spicy sauce can be thought like a burrito, you know?"

The following hours slowed. The faster-paced morning slowly began to draw out the early noon hours. It was a stunning location, certainly; the road snaked its way through the valley between many stone hills and outcropping forests. There were birds, the rustling of the window, and not a single sound of a car.

Yet with each passing hour, the anxiety grew. They started to pace, or find places to just wait. The serene natural calls of the area did not suffocate the building tension among the five. Ford's seated position was soon given up for a long pacing, which encircled the parking lot. Dipper began to examine his book, and when Ford was near, would ask for clarity among the elders notes. Mabel kept to her seat on the hood of Dippers car, beginning to rock back and forth like a teeter-totter. Soos, ever vigilant of his peers, would check in on them.

"You good, dawg?"

"Hambone, you want a bottle of water?"

"Mister Pine's brother, you wanna seat?"

"Wendy, you good bro?"

Wendy was those with the most outward chill. She too would check in on the others, but with much more subtly; a hand on Mabel's shoulder, a smile towards Ford, a peck of a kiss on Dipper's forehead (though this wouldn't calm him as much as it would merely soothe him). She would simply lean on the sign post, eyeing the trail that snaked into the woods before them, the same that the paths had departed upon. During the long hours they waited, she eventually came to be perfectly motionless. So still, so rapt and attentive, it wasn't long before Dipper found himself doing something he hadn't in a long while: sketching.

Eventually his sister caught notice. "Ohh, good shading!" she cheered.

Despite his glee, Dipper snapped shut his book containing a work of a particular redhead. "Ah, er, well, Ford's notes would also have renderings of his studies. It felt like something I hadn't started yet, so I was just-"

"Open it up again," Mabel whined, "I wanna see!" With a resigned sigh, he slowly pried it open. Mabel cooed, eying the tracings of Wendy leaning on the signpost. "Man, you really do draw like Grunkle Ford does."

"R-Really?"

"Yes, duh!" she snickered, poking his cheek with her finger, "It's like a sharper version, but the movement of shadings are so similar!"

Dipper eyed his work. "Sharper?" he repeated.

From his other shoulder, a voice proclaimed, "Indeed!" Dipper whipped his head around, redder in the face, and looking at his art with a nod was Stanford. "The six finger was sometimes a blessing, and sometimes a curse. Meant I had, steadier, broader strokes, but had a harder time with more joint, shorter movements. I see that's not a problem for you."

Dipper beamed. He turned around to his artwork, and eyed it for himself. There she was, the girl he had spent two summers obsessing over, and three years pondering. The mysteries of Wendy Corduroy, a girl of his dreams, often very literally. She had always been a friend, but now what were they? Together? Such titles and labels had yet been decided in the few days it had been since that wondrous kiss. He turned his gaze to eye her further, and went a deeper shade of crimson when he found her looking back from the post. She smiled at him, and blew him a kiss; as if his heart needed further reason to beat as fast as it could in his ribcage.

"Woah dawg," Soos complimented, leaning in front of Dipper to stare directly at the art, "You do commissions?"

"Ack- Soos!" Dipper cried out, "No, this is for my studies, and research material. I'm not an artist."

Soos said plainly, "I'll give you fifty to draw me riding me mechahorse."

"Done," Dipper nodded.

Footsteps scraping against the lose gravel, a voice from the post approached. "Heads up," Wendy said, nodding to the road.

Before Dipper had the chance to begin concept work, he and the others turned their gaze westward. Off to their right, along the closed-off road, was an approaching vehicle. Mabel cried out, "Battlestations!"

Ford shouted, "Ah, not quite yet!" and held a hand to her shoulder. As she pouted at him, he eyed the car, "For all we know, it's someone else who got re-routed. Let's just see what they do."

"Can I be on guard?" Mabel requested.

Ford nodded vigorously, "I encourage it."

Dipper put down his book and pen. Indeed, to Wendy's supernatural senses, a car was approaching. Coming around the winding road to their west, a station wagon with an old, worn, wooden paneling was approaching. With dark windows, it was hard to tell if there was one, or many more, riders. It was clearly heading down towards them, and as far as Dipper knew, was heading from the same direction the enemy resided.

It was as it neared them that Dipper saw it had a bundle of objects tied up in a large sack atop the car. Sticks, rolled carpets, even an antique looking guitar poked out from the rooftop collection. Dipper wanted to calm down at the sight, but that could be a clever disguise, to appear as someone trying to leave the area, when it is actually loaded with cultists. Then he remembered that there was a rather foolproof way of detecting danger. He turned to Wendy.

"Vibes?" he asked her.

She frowned, and shook her head. "I dunno. Nothing… bad? But something is off."

"Off?"

She looked at him, and noted, "Kinda like 'back home' off."

Dipper whipped his gaze back to the car as it passed the parking lot. To his relief it wasn't stopping. He turned to the others, garnering their attentions. "Well," he started, "At least we don't have to worry-"

Screech.

Eyes wide and mouth opened wider, Mabel roared, "BATTLESTATIONS!"

The tires of the car came to a sudden, violent stop. The five whipped around to face it again. Mabel leapt atop Dipper's car. "Bring it! Magnanimously Magnificent Masterfully Malleably Mendable Mabel is ready to break some faces!"

The threat did not dissuade the car. It did a rapid three-point turn, and entered the parking lot. Whatever tensions the group had felt awaiting the return of the Paths was more than doubled. Someone had not just seen the crew, but then decided to bee-line for them. The car slowed, and parked about twenty feet away from them. All five pairs of eyes were glued onto the windshield. Inside, someone jostled, and opened the driver door.

Stepping out was a woman in her fifties, perhaps a bit older. She had rich tan skin, thick, dark hair, and a stern, concerned expression. She was adorned with a brown leather jacket, jeans, heavy looking boots, and a feather earring. Eying the five before her, she scowled, and then wove a hand in the air.

"Shoo!" she cried out.

"Ack!" Mabel rolled off the car and onto the ground, as if struck by some unseen force.

"Mabel!?" Dipper cried out.

His sister shot back up. "Wait, no, I'm good! Just jumping the gun," she proclaimed happily.

The woman began to stomp closer to them. "Go away! This isn't safe for tourists anymore. Get out!"

Soos nodded, "Noted. Nice boots."

Her sharp eyes eyed him, and she nodded. "Thanks. Now get in your cars and drive back to your hotels or motels, or wherever you have come from."

Ford frowned. "We know what we're doing, thank you."

"Yeah!" Mabel leapt into the air proudly, "We're here on-" Dipper loudly cleared his throat, and Mabel froze. Checking in with her brother, she saw a man who wasn't eager to divulge to a stranger. Mabel craned her head back to the newcomer, and added, "Ah… wait, I guess we… are tourists?"

Ford and Mabel turned to Dipper. To Dipper, Ford hissed, "So what do you want our story to be then?"

Dipper took a step ahead, and asked, "What's going on that's got you scared? I seem to recall that this is a public parking lot."

Wendy asked pointedly, "Is it fire season?"

The woman scowled. "No. It's much worse. People are vanishing into the woods. Neighbors and tourists alike are vanishing. It's dangerous for anyone to live here anymore."

Electricity ran down Dipper's back. He eyed his companions, and approached her. "Okay, wait, you may be able to help us!"

"Unlikely," she scoffed, "You are not leaving yet. That's the best I can suggest."

Soos chuckled, "Haha, ominous. Cool."

Attempting to establish any amount of confidence, Dipper stated, "We're here because someone moved into Yellowstone who shouldn't have. They're kidnapping and brainwashing people into being their cultists."

Mabel piped up, "They're the same people who've closed off all the neato roads!"

This information seemed to confuse the woman. She scanned each of the five before her as if they each might have a secret written on their faces. She lingered on Wendy a moment longer, but seemed satisfied with her observations. Nodding to them, she proclaimed, "Then you are aware of it."

Soos curtly replied, "Ah, thank you."

"Soos," Ford grumbled, and asked in his place, "Aware of..?"

She darkly stated, "The Gaunter Haunter."

Mabel leapt up into the air, grabbing hold of Dipper's arm as she did. "Bro! Bro!" she exclaimed, "It's an old-school cryptid! Like the good 'ol days!"

"Before the end-of-the-world nonsense, right," he agreed with a tired smile. He turned back to the woman. Title alone was certainly one that rang similar to the weirdness of Gravity Falls, but nothing came to mind. The world was vast and filled with weirdness, so maybe there was something local here. He asked, "What's that? Never heard of the Gaunter Haunter before."

She stepped closer, eyes darkening as her voice went quiet. "It's an old story. Long ago, when the first frontiersman explored these lands, and the kingdoms of old still battled, there was a rumor of a beast that lurked in these woods. It would stalk its victims for weeks at a time, undoing trail-work and attempting to confuse explorers. It was a thin, crooked thing, eager to devour any man who lingered in the night-woods."

"Phew," Wendy snickered, and told Mabel, "We're safe."

The woman snapped, "This is no joke!" and stunned the two ladies, "The Gaunter Haunter has always loomed in the shadows of myth. People have always gone missing in Yellowstone. Bears, cougars, wolves, bison- many animals are dangerous. The terrain too. Even plants can kill you."

"Sounds like home," Ford sighed.

"But," she added, "This creature, the Gaunter Haunter, weeps. They say it mimics the sounds of its last victims cries of terror, or weeps of agony. If in the dark of those woods, you hear sorrowful noises, flee."

The silence that fell after the woman's warnings was a potent one. The five watched the woman as she bored her eyes into their own, clearly attempting to scare them away.

Dipper said, "Cool. But we're here because of a cult that's going to tear up the area for their insane leader," he turned to the others, "But maybe later we can come back for that one?"

"Sure," Wendy shrugged.

"Oh, heck yeah!" Mabel cheered.

"I'm on a hiatus for my Fixin' it with Soos, so I'm available."

Ford nodded, "I've not had a chance to delve into Yellowstone's mysteries. This sounds exciting!"

The woman huffed. "Look, yes, there are those crazy people tearing up the land inside the park, and they're certainly doing illegal stuff," she pointed at them, "But beware the Gaunter Haunter. If you're going down the trail towards Amethyst Mountain-"

"Wait," Dipper stepped closer, "Amethyst?" She eyed them, and slowly nodded. Dipper pushed further, "You don't suppose you know if it can be hurt by means of 'punching it real hard'?" Her answer was to glare at him, and Dipper whirled about. Worry flooding his mind, he merely said, "Oh no."

"The guys!" Soos said, looking to the trail.

Ford said to them, "Look, they're not just good at fighting. They've been fleeing and flanking enemies much more armored than a local, but dangerous, cryptid."

With a hollow voice, Wendy noted, "But if it's real, they're in its turf."

The five focused on the woods. Those tall pine trees were a green sea that crashed atop the tall mountains sprawling before them. It was easy to see several hundred feet head, but the vastness beyond was an obscured wilderness. The massive majesty suddenly held a sinister weight, an oppressive presence that loomed as sinisterly as any ancient cemetery. Anything could be awaiting them: bears, cultist ambushes, gaunter haunters.

The air heavier than before, the woman looked to the path, and shook her head. Aloud, she declared "If people are on the trail already…" she turned away, but said aloud, "You better go to a police station and report them as missing." As she got to the car, she called out, "Leave soon. Don't be stupid and go looking for them. They're probably gone already."

Once in her station wagon, the woman revved her engines, spun about, and retreated on the road eastward. As the echoes of the woman faded away, Ford grumbled. "Now I really wish we had figured out the cell-phone problem."

Mabel, her lips pursed, asked aloud, "What would Zander do?"

Dipper frowned, but allowed the question to pierce his mind. As he dwelled, Soos answered aloud, "Oh well, that's a good one. I mean, if we're talking about rock-star Zander, he'd probably walk into the woods with his guitar and soothe the monsters with a sick ballad, you know? But if we're talking dark-warrior Zander, then he'd probably out-monster the monster and scare it off."

His mind at work, Dipper found something to work with. When in danger, Zander had permitted Dipper to use magic to ask for help. He had used a particular spell – the long-distance call spell. To the others, Dipper said, "I'm going to call them."

Wendy eyed him, and said as a reminder, "Ah, dude, the signal?"

Dipper held his phone up, and pocketed it. "Not like that," he said with a smirk. Ford beamed at him, and Dipper closed his eyes. "Axilium Animus attentus." Of the five he thought he had the strongest connection to, Dipper thought of Nadan. It was a weak connection at best, and one that he worried wouldn't be strong enough to relay the spell, but it was better than nothing. "Nadan. Nadan, we were just told by a local that there may be monsters on the way there. Are you all okay?"

All around him went quiet. The chirping of birds, the rustling of trees, and the gentle breeze were all he heard. Dipper was certain that if even a whisper replied, he would notice. Instead he heard nothing.

Soos shrugged after a moment of watching Dipper's stillness, "Maybe he doesn't know how it works?"

Ford nodded. "Possible, though unlikely. Even with their clear disdain for magic, the spell is simple enough to reply with, should the user wish to."

A hand was placed on Dipper's shoulder. He craned his eyelid open and saw Wendy looking at him. Those sparkling green eyes shone a worry that he had seen, to his displeasure, many times before. She was concerned. Much as Wendy had once been appointed to preside over a magical-creature conference, she still held great weight in his mind. The simple gesture, a hand to him, was a call to action.

Dipper turned to his sister. "Mabel-" and he gasped. She was already marching towards the trail. With a cry, he called out, "Mabel, what gives?"

Turning to face them while she back-peddled towards the woods, she called out, "I'm doing what Zander would do – go after the people who depend on him."

A fire in his chest that was both panicking and encouraging, Dipper raced after her. Hearing three pairs of feet racing after him, Dipper heard Ford cry out, "Shouldn't we plan something, no, anything before we go off into the woods?"

Wendy was quick to answer, "We've got hours before we get to the mountain."

Mabel added, "That's like, so much planning time."

Grumbling, Ford summarized, "So, just so we are just marching into unfamiliar territory, after an enemy who resides here, with a hostile cryptid in-between us and them."

Soos beamed, "Yeah, dawg, sounds pretty easy when you say it like that."

Pausing in his stride, Ford stared at them. The four marching ahead with brazen confidence, Ford cackled with laughter. "Yeah, you're right. Sounds terribly easy with us together."

"Aww," Mabel spun around, and cupped her hands into a heart for Ford, "You big softie!"

Crunch, crunch, crunch, the footsteps snapped their way over the brittle needles and dry bramble. Down the trail they ascended, southward and into the hills that leaned into rockier steeps. What was a simple, but serene, clearing evolved into a forested incline. The cool breeze was stolen by the canopies above, and soon they felt the sweetness of a forest that housed many native wildflowers. Even leading their charge into the wilds, Mabel couldn't help herself but stop and sniff each new type that they passed.

"Way better than a candle shop," she declared after the third or fourth stop.

The hike, though a rushed one, was one that the five had been prepared for from a summer of danger and adrenaline. Comparing a 'mildly hastened hike' to 'literally running for your life from gunfire and ghosts' was like reversing the order you used to study with; the exam, and then a small snippet of the material for the end. Each of them held their pace well, ranging from Mabel's over-exuberance, to Dipper and Ford's plan of action exchanges, to Soos humming his next remix.

"Guys," Wendy called out, "I think this is it."

She beckoned around them, and they looked about. They had arrived to a slant in the hike. The woodlands had opened up into a grainy meadow, with sparse grasses and vegetation.

"You're sure?" Ford asked her.

Wendy nodded, and started looking to the sky. "Maps said that Amethyst mountain had a clearing just like this one. I'm, like, a hundred percent sure this is it, dudes."

Mabel beamed, saying, "Our badass half-elf ranger."

Grinning, the redhead turned towards the left at a slight angle. "That way would be south-west," she proclaimed.

"Then let's move," Dipper said, also eying the sky, "I'm no Corduroy, but I get the feeling it'll start getting dark soon. Wendy," he asked, "Lead the way?"

"Oh, sure," she smirked at him, "Love to show you around."

Deeply red in the face and grinning like a fool, Dipper followed behind, a little dizzy. Mabel only teased him about eighty percent as much as she wanted to. As the five approached the edge of the woods, Soos roared, "Oh my god!"

The four spun about to him. Ford gasped, "What is it?! What did you see?"

"Is it the Graupner Hopper?" Mabel demanded.

"Gaunter Haunter," Dipper corrected.

Soos, looking stunned, reached into the grass. "No, dudes," he then withdrew a decently large stone. It was oblong, sort of oval in shape. It had two divots that were on either side of a nose-like protrusion. Beneath the three features, an upwards bent cut had the entire rock look like…

"A face?" Ford asked.

With tears in his eyes, Soos nodded. "Th-That's right," he said, wiping his eyes with a tuft of moss from the earth, "It's like the rock that looks like a face rock."

With somberness and nostalgia, Wendy, Dipper, and Mabel looked fondly at the bit of oddly-shaped earth. Dipper would say, "Yeah, it sure does, Soos." Mabel would mention, "Oh. Brings back better times." Wendy nodded, mumbling, "I miss that old thing."

The four stared at the rock. After this pause, Ford inquired, "So, what, did you all know an earth golem, or something?"

Mabel somberly replied, "We did, and that's not even what it's about! Crazy, huh?"

Soos declared, "I'm taking it with us. I think it's a sign of good luck."

"You're going to carry," Ford reminded Soos as he passed by him, "a thirty pound rock just because it happens to have facial features?"

"Rock that happens to have facial features rock, you mean," Soos snapped back at Ford.

Unwilling to push the topic, Ford surrendered the instincts to convince Soos to abandon the stone. Instead, Soos cradled the heavy object in the crook of his elbow. Now in tow, the five continued their south-west journey into the deeper woods.

Leading the investigation still was Wendy, who certainly was taking her job quite seriously. Every fifty or so feet, she would scan around, her eyes darting to branches, fallen logs, large boulders; anything that would present a potential ambush. When none came, she would hurry along the trail. It was one of the few environments where Dipper and Mabel truly knew to let someone else be fully in charge. This was Wendy's true environment – the wooded wilderness.

"I wanna be behind her," Mabel whined after an hour of such hiking. The daylight was starting to meld into warmer tones, and the shadows were growing deep.

Dipper craned his head around to her, retorting with a calculative, "Mabes, if something attacks us, you being in the center means that our most trained fighter has the best chances to defend any side. Stay in the center."

Mabel would lean over, and quietly teased, "You just like staring at her butt-" Dipper jabbed out behind himself like lightning, catching his sister in the shoulder. "Ow. Nice shot," she admitted, "Getting faster with those."

Hearing the tussle, Wendy turned. "You two good?"

Red in the cheeks, Dipper spun about. "Wh-wha- nothing! I-I mean, yeah, everything is fine. Mabel being Mabel."

Wendy chuckled. "C'mon guys, we can't just be throwing down whenever. I get that we're bored, but this is a long trip. You should conserve your energy."

"Pfft," Mabel blew a raspberry, "C'mon Wendy! We're all good, got some sun, and aren't hearing weird stuff yet. It's all-" From the area beyond, a loud groan demanded attention. The five locked on the noise. Mabel sighed, and patted her brother's shoulder. "You know, that really is annoying when life just corrects you mid-sentence."

"Tell me about it," Dipper mumbled.

Ahead of them, Wendy wove her had flat, waving it to the ground. The other four got low. There were snapping sounds, gasps and cries, loud clatter. Something was approaching through the thicket of plants before them. The noises grew, the pained moans approaching faster and faster, the clatter and din of smashing foliage too loud to ignore. It was surely just passed the greenery.

Wendy dove her hand into the green, and shouted, "Gotcha!"

With a meek cry, Drew Alter was yanked out and thrown before the others.

Mabel, who had gotten in a combative pose, declared, "Oh! It's you! Drew! You look…"

"Awful," Ford muttered.

Dipper worriedly eyed the youngest member of the Paths. Drew had seen better days, that was certain. He was missing his guitar case, or any sign of its straps. His shirt and jacket had large scrapes throughout the fabric. His face was splotched with cuts and bruises. He looked worn and exhausted, sweat mixing with traces of dried blood. Despite it all, he was alive.

Lying on the ground, and sounding like he was about to cough up his lung, Drew looked up to them, "You… you're here!" he cried out, "Why are you here, and not at the car?"

Soos grasped the man with one arm and lifted him easily up. "Oh, well, that's easy dawg. See, a local came by and warned us about a local monster on the exact path we were going to take, and then Dipper tried to use magic to call you guys, but it didn't work, so we are coming to help out."

A little fuzzy behind the eyes, Drew took a moment and nodded. "That… actually was pretty easy to expl- what's with that rock?"

"Oh, this thing?" Soos asked, holding up the rock, "I figured I'd hold it while traveling. Maybe it'll give us good luck?"

"Focus," Dipper grumbled, and looked at Drew, trying his hardest to stay professional with a teenager who tried his luck with Wendy the previous day, "Why are you alone?"

Drew grimaced and shook his head. "Wish we had known what that local told you guys. Something is out here."

"Describe it."

"Okay," Rubbing his arm with a wince, Drew looked to the five with something close to trepidation, "Look, believe me when I say that I've seen my fair share of weird and insane things this summer."

"Cultists," Mabel hummed.

"Evil wizards," Soos added.

"The undead in a few places," Wendy shrugged.

"But this," Drew shook his head, "I'm not so sure about. See, I didn't get a chance to really… see it? I only saw that it was fast. Really fast. We heard what we thought were people begging for help, and Darren said we needed to try helping them. I thought so too."

Despite any insecurities to the man before him asking out Wendy, Dipper felt a twinge of sympathy. "Those are the sounds the monster makes. The Gaunter Haunter is supposed to mimic people it's hunted."

"Gaunter Haunter?" Drew repeated. He frowned. "That's a stupid name for whatever is really out there. Anyway," he continued, "It went after Darren first, but he's pretty tough. It only got him a little. But then… it just started zooming around. It was so fast I could barely see it. It was just a dark, shiny, blur."

"So you ran away," Dipper huffed.

"No," Drew scowled, "I was ordered to get you all."

"By who?"

"Rin."

The five all looked around, and came to a variety of nods.

"Well, if she said that."

"Yeah, that actually makes sense, I guess."

"She does know stuff pretty well."

"I'd do it she told me to."

Ford reached into his pocket, withdrawing a tin container. "Hold still, I'm going to apply some ointment on you. It'll help with the healing."

Drew recoiled slightly, "Is it that magical stuff?" Ford glared at him. Drew, looking to his other peers, shrugged, "I-I mean, sure, anything to help, sir."

"That's more like it," Ford told him.

Soos piped up timidly, "What about the others?"

To the question, Drew's lip trembled and he shook his head. "Master Nadan told me we'd be saving the world," he muttered, "That I could be a hero. Here I am running away."

"Hey," Mabel stepped over to him, and put a hand on his shoulder. "You did what you were told to do. You got us."

"Running wild through the woods too, by the looks of you," Wendy added.

Mabel patted the top of his head, "So take it easy on yourself. We've had a bit of experience with this thing before. Once, those two got locked into a tunnel with a shapeshifter who turned into a spider-fusion of my brother and me!" She chuckled, and with a happy memory, added, "It was horrific."

"Uh, right," Drew stared at Mabel, his head slowly nodding as Ford began to apply his ointment.

Eying the word, Dipper asked ford, "With that stuff is he going to be able to help us if we go after the others?"

Ford shook his head. "I hate to say it too," he stood up, eying the injured young adult, "He needs a little bit more than just some moderate application. Not to mention, if the others are in just as awful state, they'll need more of this. I have a suggestion: I take Drew back, and hand this to you," Ford said to Dipper, holding out the tin.

"Wh-What, me?" Dipper asked.

"Yes, you. Or, at least, the plural you. You four," Ford told them, "Have done this before. You hold the experience and understanding to best balance and aid one another. I know I've come to trust and rely on each of you, but Drew needs more than a few bandages and some ice. I should apply some basic medical care until we can all retreat from this area. That means that he and I should head back to the cars and wait for you all to return."

It was odd for Dipper to feel this way. On one hand, he desperately wanted to have heard that confidence in his abilities come from Ford. On the other hand, he didn't want that confidence to come at the cost of losing a brilliant mind for the challenge ahead. As much as Dipper wanted that second mind to help bolster the tides against evil, he was right: Drew needed help.

"I guess that plan isn't a horrible one," Dipper sighed, "As much as I hate splitting the party."

"Not for long, I hope. If my memory serves," Ford detailed, "We would still have another six to five hours before arriving at this mysterious compound, right?" To the estimation, Wendy nodded and Ford continued, "So just get there, do what you do best and-"

"Ruin that psychopaths day!" Mabel roared.

Beaming like the morning sun, Ford said, "Took the words right out of my mouth, sweetheart." He turned about, lifting his arm under Drew's, and hoisting him to his feet. "C'mon, Alto, we have a long hike ourselves."

"R-Right, sir," Drew nodded, eager for the support. As he and Ford grew in distance, Drew would ask, "So, uh, you're from the eighties, or whatever? Is it true that it was easier to get a date back then?"

The gang did not linger to hear Ford's clearly dismaying response. Wendy eyed each of the three before her and turned back towards the deeper woods. As the last direct rays of sunlight snuck behind the canopies around them and the arches of mountain peaks, they started to really sense the darkness that was swelling around them.

It was about thirty minutes into this growing dimness that Wendy muttered, though loud enough for the three to catch, "Something is off."

"Off-off?" Dipper asked.

Mabel also asked, "Or funky off?"

"Uh," Wendy eyed behind her, "The difference being?"

Soos stood rigid and answered quickly, "Off-off is a hard red line of nope, while funky off is questionable and weird, kinda like the back of Mister Pines freezer."

As Mabel and Dipper gagged at the mention of such a frozen, horrid place, Wendy pursed her lips. "Hmm. Probably more to the first, but not run for our lives yet."

"Ah," Soos's gaze hardened, "Which means… it's spooky."

"Sure," Wendy snorted, "It feels spooky."

Drawing in a loud snort and spitting to the side, Mabel growled in a deep, graveling tone, "It doesn't matter. We can out-tough 'em."

A voice caused all four to leap into the air, "I'd wish that had been the case."

After the initial yells, the four turned. There was a mount of trees that had grown out of a hill. The shadows thick, and the foliage dense, they couldn't see the voice's origin. Still, it rang familiar. Dipper pushed ahead, lifting out his phone and activating the flashlight setting. There, lying against a rise of earth, was a heavily wounded Darren and Maureen.

"Guys!" Dipper yelled, and rushed towards the two.

"Careful with the light," Darren hissed as Dipper approached. As the four came to see the details, they swathe horrid state the two had been in. If drew had looked like he had fallen from a bike crash, Darren and Maureen had leapt from a speeding car. Darren had only one eye open, as the other lid had been cut. Maureen moved and breathed, and looked in pain, her eyes sealed shut.

"Don't worry, you're safe now," Soos told Darren, holding out the stone with a face.

Craning her eyes open, Maureen saw the carried rock, and chuckled. "Oh thank goodness," she said and closed her eyes, smiling, "A good headstone for my grave."

Darren nudged her with his shoulder, "Don't steal my sense of humor, that's really all I got going for me."

Reaching into his pocket for the tin Ford had provided, Dipper began to massage the ointment across some of the minor wounds he could see on the two. As he did, Wendy knelt down and began to assist, acting as a sort of silent supervisor to Dipper's medical applications. Eventually handing the ointment to Wendy, feeling that he had reached his know-how, Dipper asked them, "What happened?"

Maureen snorted, "We got really badly beat up."

Soos gasped, "You don't say!"

As Maureen eyed him with a mixture if concern and exhaustion, Darren continued, "There was a thing we heard first. Sounded like a groan of pain-"

"I thought it was a cry," Maureen protested.

"-Whatever," Darren grumbled, "And it just went at us. Like a blur, but with claws. Raked me up bad. We tried fighting it, but we couldn't even find where to start fighting it. Nadan decided to split up – he and Rin move further south, while Maureen and I pull it this way."

"You haven't seen the other two?" Dipper asked. Darren shook his head, and the young teen frowned. "They could still be okay. That's good, at least. You didn't see any signs of Graupner or his goons, right?" Darren shook his head. Dipper sighed.

Mabel giggled, "Hehe, Graupner goons. Goons."

Dipper continued to talk, "Look, Darren, Maureen, I know you two are pretty beat up," he said to the two, who looked a tad more pale than before, "But this ointment that Wendy and I are giving you should help. Unless you two think you can still, you know, fight..?"

Dipper awaited a reply. Darren and Maureen stared passed him, eying Mabel. He looked next to himself, and Wendy was looking at the ground behind Mabel with wide eyes. She, along with Soos and Dipper, slowly turned around to Mabel.

Standing before them, Mabel was unable to notice the looming shadow that was creeping behind her. Taller than her by several feet, it had twisted humanoid proportions – long arms and gangly claws for fingers. If it had a face, it was obscured by the shadow.

Mabel giggled, "See? Goons! Funny word. I love it when bad guys sound stu-" she suddenly gagged, "Phew! Eugh! Someone die a little just now? Dipper, you let out a bad fart or something?" Again, no one replied. Mabel finally noticed she was not being watched, but being looked passed. She spun her herself around. With a gulp, she meagerly said, "Aw, nuts."

---

She's going to be saying that a lot these days. And you know what? Fair. If someone snuck up on me in the middle of the night looking ready for a Vampire: the Masquerade cosplay, I'd also have a thing or two to say.

Now, before you, dear reader, send me a message warning me about writing a certain type of creature, and how it shouldn't be, don't worry- it's not what you think it is. Doing research into monsters sometimes leads you to realize that it can be very inappropriate to discuss certain things, to a point where its a taboo. Because I don't want to spoil the surprise, I'll be more glad to explain in the next author note. Until then, if you know, you know.

And see! Two updates, a week apart! Now, sadly, the next update will take a tad longer. With the season of cold going and the warm coming, I've got my hands busy. I'm putting in a hard release date for part two in the mid of march, the 15th. Sorry about this one guys. If I can manage to write much, MUCH more than I'm anticipating, I'll happily do a surprise early update. I just don't want to put out all my work, and then have to start holding your reading up longer than I have.

So don't hold your breath. Unless you're near a Gaunter Haunter. Then you *should*. Any guesses to what it is?

(walking casually onto the scene, holding an open can of beer in his hand, Ash William burbs.) Ash Williams: A zombie.

Oh, not a bad guess.

Ash Williams: Not a bad guess? That's gotta be the correct answer. I'm always right, dummy.

Uhh... You sure about that?

Ash Williams: Uh... yes? I'm more right than wrong.

You mean like that time you said all the correct words and were sent back to your time without any consequences?

Ash Williams: (rubbing the back of his head) Well, I may not have said all the words perfectly right? Okay? I-I mean... mostly right...

(A possessed human, a 'Deadite' rushes at EZB and lifts him up into the air.)

AAH! This is pretty scary! If even a little humorous when seen from a third party angle-

(EZB is brought down by the possessed person, broken in half comically on the creatures knee. Dead EZB is tossed aside like a broken doll. Ash Williams turns, revealing a double-battled shotgun, aimed for the possessed being.)

Deadite: (pointing a long, crooked finger at Ash) I'll swallow your soul!

Ash Williams: Just another weekend, baby. (The two battle, and ash, though making a fool of himself, wins. Hail to the king, baby.)