WARNING:

This story contains prolific use of swearing, blood and gore, sexual and graphic content. If you are not comfortable with this, then consider this warning before you continue reading.

Then again, you're not really supposed to be comfortable reading a horror story.

Viewer Discretion is advised.

Chapter 7: The Beast

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This was starting to become a habit.

Once again, my eyes opened weakly, my vision hazy. As I realized that I had fallen unconscious for the 5th time, I groaned in frustration. It was like the universe was trying to make me suffer both ways, where I sucked balls at surviving, but I couldn't die properly either.

Before my vision cleared up, my ears caught the sounds of classical music playing.

What choice of music is this? I thought sardonically.

As my vision finally began to clear, I noticed Mabel out of the corner of my eye, sitting in a comfy chair that had been pulled up, a coffee table pushed aside hastily. Her foot was tapping rapidly against the floor. As she noticed me begin to stir, she shot out of her chair and over to me, hovering over me as if I was a priceless artifact she wanted to touch but couldn't.

"Dipper! Oh, thank god, you're awake!"

To my surprise, her parade of relief over my well-being was shortlasting, very unlike every other time he had just scraped by danger, in which she spent at least five minutes actually crying about how scary it was for her.

The look on her face was serious. That didn't bode well for me at all. Before she began, I lifted my head up onto the arm of the couch, sucking through my teeth as pain shot through my whole body.

"I need to debrief you on our most recent events."

"Okay, colonel."

I was a bit humored by my witty retort, but after Mabel giggled creepily at the joke, I regretted having a sense of humor.

"Anyways," she continued. "Stan is also with us-"

"Wait, Stan's alive?! Thank god!"

I was overjoyed to think that someone who wasn't a complete psychopath was with us. Besides Stan, every contact with humans I had was with people who were either bat-shit crazy, delusional, or just out to murder my ass. It didn't really set me up to trust.

"Where is he?"

I noticed that Mabel didn't seem too happy about my desire to see Stan, but she complied. She pointed to the entryway to the other rooms.

"He's on the second floor of this place, but I don't have a clue what he's doing."

She then smiled at me amorously, her eyes glazing over.

"But who cares about that old fart? We have time to rest, time to have fun. Why don't we do something together?"

Not this again, I thought in despair. For the moments that I was conscious, I had thought that maybe she had staved off from the innate obsession with my entire being, but of course my hopes were dashed.

"As much as I would...like that, I think we should focus more on seeing what our rations are looking like."

Mabel made a pouty face, like a damn puppy that wasn't given enough attention.

"Fine." She muttered.

I directed my gaze towards my body, and felt nauseous. I was basically mummified, as bandaging covering almost every part of my body. Every movement I made ached terribly, as if I had fallen down ten flights of stairs and hit every part of my body on the way down. The only part of me that wasn't wrapped up was my head, which made sense, as I had deflected those vicious attacks from earlier mainly with my arms.

"How the hell did I survive?" I muttered to myself.

"What?" Mabel leaned in, curious as to what I had just said then. I forced a smile.

"Uh, nothing. So anyways, um, where are we right now?"

"Well, from what Stan told me, we're apparently in Virginia."
"Huh?!"

She shrugged as I looked at her in bewilderment. My earlier theory on being teleported by that triangle was confirmed, but I didn't think he had shot us off this far! We were across the damn country!

"Okay, so with that out of the way, what are we in right now?"

I asked this question while looking around. The room I was in was very modest in decor, but it was definitely high-class. It almost seemed like a 19th century setting of sorts. A bearskin rug was placed under the coffee table and Mabel's chair. A musket sat on hinges on the wall behind the couch I was on. There were even candles fixed to the walls. The only thing ruining the immersion of the place was the giant, flat-screen TV that jutted out from the wall opposite of me.

"We're in a manor, and an odd one at that. Anyways, I need to tell you about something Stan and I discovered recently-"

"Woah, slow down, a manor? Are we in a town, or the countryside?"

"Countryside." She said it almost instantly, as if I was running a questionnaire. "So, look, it turns out that firearms don't work."

As I was taking in the current setting, I was thrown off by what she had said, not quite comprehending it at first.

"I'm sorry...what? What do you mean, 'firearms don't work'?"

"They don't work. Stan tried firing two guns he had found, both of which looked fully functional, and they didn't fire the loaded bullets. He even tried clearing the chamber and reloading. I think this might be some sort of spell."

I had yet to even wrap my head around our current predicament, and now this woman was talking about spells and shit.

"Look, just- this is a lot to take in, can you give me a couple minutes to think, please?"

Having said this with a somewhat aggressive tone, I felt bad as Mabel lowered her head sheepishly.

"Sorry, Dipper."

She moved back and sat on the chair, keeping her head down and placing her clasped hands between her thighs. I was about to apologize, but I was not up to dealing with this minor drama. I had just escaped death for the 20th time today, for the love of Christ.

I propped my back up against the arm of the couch, sighing as my body quivered in pain, the gashes all around my body still recovering.

As I began to relax and think, I could hear the sound of heavy rain beating down on the manor from outside. It sounded like a torrent.
After a few minutes, Stan rounded the hallway corner, looking at us. He came over, and I noticed that he was wearing different clothing from the first time we had met him. At the shack, he had been wearing a fez cap (oddly) with some sort of sleazy suit and dress shoes. Now, he was sporting a very humble brown vest with a blue undershirt, with brown pants and brown boots.

"You conscious now, kid? Good. 'Cause now that we're seemingly staying here for a short while, we're gonna go over some house rules."

Seeing Mabel sitting on a chair next to Dipper, he took it upon himself to go grab a wooden chair nearby and drag it up alongside the group. He plopped himself down in it, leaning forward with his hands clasped.

"First off, don't try to attack or kill me. Pretty simple. I have eyes on the back of my head, so if you try anything, you're dead, kiddos."

Great start.

"That's it."

"Wait, what?"

"I don't see what else there is to go over. We're stuck in a manor, waiting for the rain to die down, not running a country."

"O-okay, then. Glad we're...understood."

Stan nodded his head, concluding the conversation as he got up.

"I'm gonna go scavenge some more of the house. I've gotten a pretty big haul, and if you wanna see it, it's in the dining room, on the table. Weapons, rations, all that good stuff. And I'm assuming that Mabel already told you about the firearms?"

"Yeah...what's the deal with that?"

Stan shrugged.

"Honestly, I have no idea and I don't care. That means we don't have to worry about bullets, which makes survival much easier. At least, against humans that want to kill us. I sorely wish I had an LMG to fight those fuckin' monsters that are prowlin' about."

With that final note, he turned around and headed off into the hallway. Mabel turned her attention back to me, smiling.
"Well, i'm just glad we're safe now."

You shouldn't say stuff like that, I thought morosely. Who knows what this world would do to spite people-

"SHIT! There's people with weapons outside!"

Holy shit, Mabel actually just jinxed us.

As I felt a strong urge to wring her by the throat, I felt an even stronger one telling my brain to find somewhere to hide. Mabel, hearing the news, growled in anger. Without hesitation, she scooped her hands under me, lifting me up. I could feel her arms shake slightly from having to carry my weight, but she managed, and sped off to the laundry room in the back.

As she reached the inside, she turned around and used her foot, toeing the door shut. She then looked around frantically for a hiding spot, both for her and I. She finally settled on the cupboard above the washing machine, laying me on top of the machine while she got on her tiptoes and threw open the cupboard doors, then pushed me inside. The entire ordeal put me through some serious suffering, as my recovering wound were prodded and poked around.

As I laid inside the cupboard, staring into darkness, my heart pounded. I heard Mabel skitter off somewhere, and was left to my thoughts as I thought about what Stan had seen. I was pretty pissed that Mabel had just suddenly thrown me into the nearest hidey hole, but a bit grateful as well.

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Moments passed. I didn't hear anything.

Then, faintly, the front doors swung open.

My heart began to pound fervently as I thought about whatever threat out there was now prowling around inside, looking for something or someone.

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More moments passed. I heard people rummaging around the place, though very faintly.

I was getting tired of sitting here in the dark, wondering if I'd be found any second now. I decided to push open one of the cabinet doors slightly.

Thankfully, no one was in the room, though I could hear someone in the living room, where I had came from. Small chatter reached my ears, and I strained to listen in. I could just barely hear the conversation.

"Marlon, someone's been here before. Look, these chairs are pulled up alongside the couch."

"Shit, you're right, Barry. Think they might be hiding….or waiting in ambush?"

Silence ensued. It seemed as if they had just caught on to that idea, and so hushed their tones. I slowly closed the cabinet door, sweating profusely as I imagined them discovering my position.

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The tension was unbearable. The darkness was overwhelming my senses as fear began to take hold of my mind.

Suddenly, I heard shouting from the far end of the room, then the shuffling of boots. What was going on?

It took a considerable amount of willpower to open the cabinet door, but upon doing so, I found no one to be in the laundry room. I strained my ear, but I couldn't hear anyone in the living room. I began to ease myself out of the cabinet, then tried to bring my legs over the top of the washing machine to hop down onto the tile floor gently.

However, I unexpectedly began to slide off the machine and hit the floor hard. I yelled in pain as my several wounds pulsed in pain. My blood ran cold as I realized what I had just done. I covered my mouth, cutting off the scream halfway, but it was too late.

"What was that?!" I could hear from the other room. Through the doorway, I could see people with weapons rounding the corner. Seeing me, they rushed over until they were in front of the doorway to the laundry room. They brandished their weapons, looking at me with suspicion.

"There's another one here, guys!" One of them shouted back to the main hall. I could hear his response faintly.

"Bring him here!"
With that, the two went over and grabbed me by sides, which sent shockwaves of pain throughout my body. I groaned in pain. Oddly enough, upon hearing it, the two softened their grip.

Eventually, we reached the hall, and the two placed me on my knees in front of one individual. He had messy hair and brown eyes, which gazed down upon me warily. A scarf was covering the lower part of his face, so it was hard to distinguish exactly what he looked like.

I looked to my right to see Stan on the floor, also on his knees. He had directed his attention outside, looking at something in particular.

In the hallway we were in, there were about 11 other individuals, including the ones who brought me in. Each of them was sporting some type of coverage over their face or head.

That means that Mabel is still hiding somewhere, I thought.

"I'm gonna get straight to the point: why were you hiding?"

The question was asked by the fellow I had been placed in front of. Now that we hadn't been immediately killed, I found that there was an opportunity to escape from this unharmed. I put my hands up in a peaceful gesture as I explained the situation.

"Look, sir, we were just scared, is all. We didn't know who you guys were, and it looked like there were plenty of you, enough to overwhelm and possibly kill us. You can't argue that you would have done the same in our position."

Surprisingly, the man nodded in understanding.

"Makes sense." He sighed, getting down on one knee to level with Dipper. "Look, I understand the situation. We had to be cautious as well, make sure that you guys weren't hostile. So it was essentially the same on our side of the spectrum, bud."

I sighed, glad that we had been caught by a reasonable group of people. In fact, I was absolutely delighted. Finally, we had come not just one, but an entire group of people that weren't delusional, psychopathic, or out to kill us-

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Dipper swerved his head to the right in alarm, and witnessed one of the masked people fall over in agony as an open wound was bleeding profusely from his back. He groaned in pain as he tried to reach up and cover the wound.

Standing above him, bloodied carving knife in hand, and a face filled with merciless fury, was Mabel herself.

My eyes widened in horror, as did the people surrounding us.

"Craig, NO!"

The man that I had talked to just a second ago was shouting in horror, looking at Mabel with rage in his eyes.

"WHAT THE FUCK, MABEL?!" I shouted at her, angered by the sudden butchering of an innocent person. Her eyes met with mine, and I could see the shame in her gaze, as if she was a puppy who had just been disciplined. That type of reaction just pissed me off more.

Our first potential friends, people we could have survived alongside and made memories with, were now completely alienated towards us.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Stan, who was looking out the window, reeled backwards, and began crawling back rapidly.

"Who the hell is she?!"

The man I was talking to earlier grabbed me by my collar, pulling me up to his face as he looked at me in anger.

"She just stabbed Craig! Is she with you sons of bitches?!"

As I stammered for answer, I noticed Mabel bring her knife up in defense as the other people brandished their weaponry at her, angry looks on their faces. They began to back her against the wall slowly.

This is going to shit. This is going to shit so fast!

"Is she with you?! IS SHE?! answer me, you son of a-"

CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACCCCK!

Without warning, the front entrance of the manor was suddenly smashed open, sending wooden splinters and pieces of glass flying in every direction. The sheer impact of whatever had smashed through the front entrance had caused a flurry of wind to send me flying across the hallway, back into the living room.

SMACK!

I felt a terrifying wave of newfound pain send shocks all over my body as my back and head smacked against the wall, and I slid down to the floor.

Everything suddenly became hazy. It felt as if someone had smacked the back of my head with a hammer. For a couple moments, I swayed around, half-conscious.

I looked around, and through my hazy vision, I saw people scrambling around in confusion and horror. I heard yelling and screaming coming from the front entrance.

Eventually, my vision cleared up, and I shook my head a couple times to assert it. I groaned in pain, and looked down to see shards of glass and wood embedded in my arms, legs, and torso. I could even feel some in my face.

I looked up to gaze upon whatever had come busting through the front. From outside, lightning crackled and lit up the front entrance briefly, and for a moment I could get a glimpse of it-

A terrifying monster. It was over 8 feet tall, tall enough that its head was above the second floor balcony. Fur covered almost the entirety of its being, save for the hooves that it stood on. It looked similar to a cow, but with humanoid hands at the end of its arms.

A minotaur.

At the end of its bloodied horn, I could see one of the group members impaled, his body limp as the whole horn had gone all the way through his torso.

After a few moments of reveling in its kill, it shook its head violently, whipping the dead body impaled on its horn around. The force was too much, and the dead body ripped in half, thrown in opposite directions. The top half of the body landed in front of me, and I screamed in horror as I gazed upon the lifeless eyes that rolled up into the back of his head, blood and organs flooding out of the lower end of his severed body.

I looked up, my whole body quaking with fear, to make direct eye contact with the beast.

I was next.

As I heard the beast roar with feral bloodlust, I scrambled up, the pain of movement dissipating immediately as adrenaline was pumped throughout my body. The beast came charging towards me, and at the last second I was able to jump out of the way.

SMASH!

The beast smashed through the wall, turning it to splinters and making a new hole in the house. It stopped itself, the torrent of rain covering vision of the creature. But through the fog and rain, I could see its red-hot eyes gazing at me with an unquenchable lust for blood.

I knew what would happen next. I got up once again and ran over to Mabel and Stan, who had been thrown back by the impact as I was. I shook them both out of their dazed state. Mabel got up groggily, groaning in pain.

"Wha...what happen-"

"GET THE FUCK UP AND LET'S GET OUT OF HERE!"

While Stan seemed to have avoided the brunt of the impact that the beast had made through the front entrance, Mabel had not been so lucky. I could see a particularly large piece of wood impaled in her side. As I tried to lift her up, she screamed in pain.

I turned around to see the beast now occupied with the members of the group, who were trying to stab at it with spears in self-defense. The beast seemed amused by this, and swatted one of the people aside, sending him flying and screaming into the fields.

My blood ran cold, and I scooped my hands under Mabel, lifting her up. She screamed once again in agony as the piece of wood in her side moved about, but I had no time for that. I looked at Stan, who shook his head and awoke from his dazed state, and gestured violently towards the front entrance, which was now just a big hole.

"LET'S GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"

Stan nodded in terror and sprinted out of the house. I followed suit, but not before hearing something fly past from behind me.

SKRCH!

I took a quick peek behind to see the man with the scarf, the one who had interrogated me earlier, had been thrown into the house and slammed against the jagged ends of the blown front entrance. Sharp ends of the wooden structure were jutting out from his stomach, legs, and neck. He gurgled as blood came pouring from the wounds and his own mouth, and his eyes conveyed horror and agony to me with one look. He raised his hand weakly towards me, a sign for help.

Then, his hand fell, and his eyes rolled up into the back of his head.

My mental psyche couldn't take anymore. Without looking back, I turned back to the road, Mabel in my arms, and began sprinting with all of my strength, leaving behind the screams of horror and agony that echoed from the manor.

The last sound I heard was the roar of the minotaur, taking pride in the mayhem he had caused.

Author Notes:

- I normally publish a new chapter every other day, or every two days. If it is longer than that, than I was working on another book

- Reviews are appreciated.