The aftermath of the party lingered in my mind like a haunting specter. The act of killing someone who resembled a friend was a trauma that refused to fade. Days had passed, but the memory of Doppelganger Wendy's final moments continued to haunt me with shivers and unease.
"...Ray? Don't you have work today?"
"Ah, work... No, today's my day off... I thought of just spending the day in my room. Why?"
Candy's voice interrupted my contemplation. She appeared fatigued despite the recent festivities.
"Today's Pioneer's Day! We should go out and play!"
"Pioneer's Day...? Ah, already?"
Pioneer's Day, a celebration of Gravity Falls' founding by Nathaniel Northwest, felt more like a nuisance to me. The noise outside was never to my liking, but at this point, I welcomed anything that wouldn't delve into the complexities around me. I needed a day to rest, as Doppelganger Wendy wisely suggested.
"Candy, go hang out with your friend... Grendinator, right? Play with her. I'm going to chill."
-Drr...Drr...
My phone rang, casting a shadow of foreboding over my reprieve. Stan's name flashed on the screen, and a sense of impending trouble accompanied my answer.
"Mr. Pines?"
[Ra...Ray! You need to come here and help! They threw me in the stocks! Ahh!]
"...What did you do?"
[I didn't do anything! I'm innocent! You've gotta help this poor old man!]
There goes my one-day vacation. Hastily changing into more suitable attire, I headed towards the chaos that had engulfed the town. Living nearby had its advantages.
The scene was chaotic. Wagons cluttered the streets, peculiar weddings unfolded, and Stan found himself locked in a pillory, adorned with splattered tomatoes. The crowd showed no mercy, continuing to hurl tomatoes at him.
"Ah! Ray! You're here! Please! Free me!"
"Well, look who's here. Ray Chiu."
A familiar yet unsettling voice interrupted. I turned to see Pacifica Northwest, the wealthy and insufferable girl from town.
"Oh. Pacific Northwest," I greeted, the sarcasm barely concealed.
"It's PACIFICA! For the last time...!" she retorted, visibly irritated.
I grinned, not particularly bothered by her insistence on the correct pronunciation. "Sure, sure, Pacific it is."
Yes, I knew her. The rich, arrogant child whose parents believed I was a suitable tutor for her during the summer. Perhaps it was my test results that drew their attention. Yeah, I did nail those IQ tests.
The tutoring ended up pretty nasty. That arrogant kid is, well, kind of bright, I guess, but the only social interaction she knows is either being overly pretentious or overly arrogant. Just like her father. Well, he did pay me quite a lot, but I just didn't like the place. The mansion and all...
Pacifica and I weren't that close, according to what I remember. And she is really, really bad when it comes to manners. Look at her, harassing an old man (though that old man is Stan...).
She does have a funny name though. Pacific Northwest...I guess her parents thought the name of the ocean was so fit for their child.
Pacifica scowled, clearly unimpressed with my lack of compliance. "Ugh, whatever. Listen up, Ray Chiu. I've got something you need to know."
I raised an eyebrow, feigning interest. "Do tell."
"I've got the pin to open the stocks, and you're not getting it unless you do something for me," she declared, a smug grin playing on her face.
I glanced at Stan, who was still stuck in the pillory, a tomato-covered mess. He looked at me with pleading eyes.
"Ray, help me out here! Get that pin from her!" Stan implored.
I sighed, feeling the weight of exhaustion. "Mr. Pines, I'm tired. I'll deal with this later. I'm just going to check on the shack today for you, okay?"
"Thanks, Ray," Stan muttered, resigned to his tomato-laden fate.
Meanwhile, Pacifica continued her attempts at making demands for the key. "You want this pin, Chiu? Say that the Northwests are the best family in town."
I looked at her, unimpressed. "You can keep the pin. I have better things to do."
With that, I turned on my heel and walked away, leaving Pacifica fuming and Stan still trapped in the stocks.
"Whatever, Chiu! You'll regret this!" Pacifica shouted after me.
I'd never understand why she's always being so annoying whenever she's around me though. Does she need attention? Well, she's also a kid...And she's young...come to think of it...kids! Where are the twins?
I approached Stan, who was still stuck in the pillory, and asked, "Where are the kids, Mr. Pines?"
Stan's eyes shifted away, a guilty expression crossing his face. "Uh, I don't know, Ray. They were here a moment ago."
I sighed, frustrated with Stan's apparent irresponsibility. "You really need to keep track of your grandnephew and niece, Mr. Pines. They're just kids."
Stan mumbled something incoherent, and I shook my head in disapproval. Without wasting more time on him, I turned away and began to walk. Just as I started to head towards the shack, a wave of relief washed over me as I spotted the twins running toward the graveyard.
I called out to them, "Hey! Where do you two think you're going?"
"We...are scavenger hunting at the graveyard, Ray!" Mabel exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
I sighed again, this time in exasperation. "Graveyard? Really? Well, be careful, and don't go causing any trouble."
Those kids...probably will get into trouble again. But to be honest, I'm not really...worried that much. I mean, yeah, the kids constantly put themselves in danger, that's for sure. However, Bill Cipher is attacking me directly nowadays. He didn't make a doppelganger of the kids, he didn't send the darkness to them...Well, the kids did get involved, but the attack was mainly to make me suffer, rather than the other people who were also there.
Anyways, to the shack it is. I thought today would be my day off, but...well. I guess this can happen.
The shack was closed, so I used an emergency key to go in there. I changed the sign to 'open', and sat at the shack gift shop counter seat.
...no one was around, and it was dead quiet. Hmm...What should I do? ah, right. I've gotta manage the inventory. Stan ordered another bunch of his merchandise recently, and they were currently rotting at the storage.
Since there were no customers, I thought it was a good idea to organize the storage today. Well, if I'm going to work anyway, it's better to work hard and feel proud about it.
And just as I went out the gift shop door to go to the storage, I
met him.
"Well Hello there, young man!"
...He was a fat, middle-aged man with brown hair. He had a hat, probably to hide his bald head.
"...Mr. Gleeful? What brings you here?"
He was Bud Gleeful, the father of Gideon Gleeful. Since his son was never a good person, I wasn't really welcoming him...besides, he runs the tent of telepathy. Our rival. What is he doing here?
"Oh, nothing. Just wanted to look around or so..."
"Well...Suit yourself. But you can't enter, because there are no workers except for me today. Mr. Pines is locked up at the town stock, so if you want to find him, you should probably head there."
"Why, thank you."
I kept walking to the storage. Well, he seemed to be more polite than Gideon, and what can he do to me anyway? I'm a teenage boy with the ability to go back in time. He's an old man with no weapons or so.
"Ah, but would you wait for a second, Ray Chiu?"
"...Oh. You know my name, sir."
Bud Gleeful smiled uncannily, and a sudden sense of danger crept over me. "Young man, have you noticed anything... unusual happening in this town?"
I narrowed my eyes, guarded. "What do you mean by 'unusual'?"
He chuckled, his smile widening. "You know, strange occurrences, peculiar events... things that don't quite fit the ordinary."
I hesitated but then replied calmly, "Yes."
Bud's smile remained, but it became more unsettling. "Interesting. Tell me, young man, are you curious about the mysteries of Gravity Falls? The things that happen beyond the veil of the ordinary?"
I felt a chill down my spine. "Why do you ask?"
Bud leaned in, his voice low and conspiratorial. "Because, Ray Chiu, you strike me as someone who could appreciate the truth. How about joining the Society of the Open Eye? Oh, just think about the most fascinating things you'll learn."
My guard went up. This definitely sounded like some form of cult. "I appreciate the offer, but I'll pass."
Bud's smile didn't waver, and he turned to leave. "That's alright, young man. Think about it. The offer always stands."
As he walked away, I couldn't shake the feeling that I had just narrowly avoided something ominous. But before he disappeared into the woods, Bud Gleeful turned back to me and said, "Being able to do what others can't... it must be so comfortable, isn't it, young man?"
I furrowed my brow, about to ask how he knew that, but before I could utter a word, Bud vanished into the shadows of the trees, leaving me with a lingering sense of unease.
...Is that...really a mention that he knows something about my power? What the...Or is he just implying about the anomalies in this town? Either way...he's way more dangerous than I ever perceived.
...But, I had to go back to work. Although the fact that there's this...weird kind of cult in this rural town of America sounds like the background of a horror movie...The work needs to go on.
I went to the storage and started to organize the merchandise. There were lots of Stan's bobbing heads...I always spend a hard time selling them all. Why does he keep ordering that?!
There were other 'mysterious merchandise' in the corner, usually just some fake rocks and bones made in China. Anyway, I organized them, listed them up, moved some of them to the gift shop, and stocked them.
...That was when I noticed something. Something was on the gift shop counter. It was an eye-shaped golden amulet...and a piece of paper.
-tick! tick! tick!
I slowly approached and sat at the counter seat, picked up the amulet, and observed it.
It seemed to be made fully out of gold, or...whatever this metal is. No, it isn't gold. It's too hard to be gold...but one thing's for sure. It seems to be...carved. Carved out of something, I don't know.
The eye-shaped object felt oddly light, yet it carried a certain weightiness that suggested significance. This could very well be the symbol of the mysterious cult that Bud Gleeful had cryptically mentioned. Despite my explicit dismissal of his overtures, he had left behind this peculiar eye amulet and an enigmatic piece of paper. Mercifully, nothing else appeared to be amiss.
"Society of the Open Eye," he had murmured. The very notion sent shivers down my spine. I had no inclination to involve myself in anything eye-related, especially considering my ongoing struggle with a peculiar Dorito adorned with an all-seeing eye.
The paper in my hand presented an equally perplexing scenario.
"...Employee Guidelines for the Care of the Mystery Shack...?"
I couldn't fathom why Bud, the owner of the Telepathy Tent, would deposit such rules here. Mystery Shack regulations were never known to be so peculiar during Stan's tenure. Let's delve into this document.
Employee Guidelines for the Care of the Mystery Shack
The Mystery Shack is a secure haven, free from peculiarities. However, adherence to these rules is advised for personal safety and well-being.
Should you hear a knock on the gift shop window, refrain from looking and maintain breath-holding until the sound ceases.
Prior to vacating your counter seat, activate all lighting fixtures using the controller beneath the table. If, however, the light on an alleged fifth floor is illuminated, promptly return to your seat. Notably, the shack doesn't have a fifth floor.
Ensure all doors are unlocked. This precautionary measure facilitates a secure exit in unforeseen circumstances.
If distant screams reach your ears, feign ignorance and continue with your tasks. Refrain from involvement with anything associated with the screaming.
In the event of an eerie presence above, close your eyes and count precisely to ten. Under no circumstances should you open your eyes immediately; a brief respite is recommended before resuming activities.
This guideline does not encompass Rule Number 4. Should you encounter one, dismiss it and act contrary to its instructions.
If you chance upon subterranean stairs, obstruct the entrance and abstain from descending.
Remember, there is nothing weird with the shack. Maintain simplicity and have a good day.
Delving into these guidelines proved more perplexing than anticipated. Who crafts rules with such an unsettling tone? The inclusion of "have a good day" felt jarringly inconsistent with Stan's usual communication style.
But the real head-scratcher was Rule Number 4. Was it a jest, a cryptic message, or just a meaningless omission? And what was the purpose of this eerie paper? Could it have the power to turn twisted tales into reality?
A lingering sense of unease clung to me, fueled by the mysterious eye amulet and Bud Gleeful's unexpected visit.
"He seemed privy to the town's peculiarities, dropping cryptic hints about my circumstances."
I had staunchly rejected any affiliation with his unsettling society, so what was the purpose of this enigmatic paper? Could it indeed weave eerie tales into existence?
-knock knock...
"..."
Despite every instinct screaming against it, I swiveled my neck to look at the window. The rhythmic knocking ceased, leaving only the dimming Gravity Falls sky and a looming shadow cast by the totem outside.
-KNOCK! KNOCK!
Before I could fully process it, something materialized before me, and the next moment, coherent thought vanished.
I was left headless, devoid of any cognitive function.
[Critical user function failure detected. Life signal... Negative. Commencing respawn sequence at the last checkpoint...]
[Calculating the amount of caused time paradox... 0. Expurgation complete. Restoring Data...]
[Restoration complete.]
