Depravity Falls: The Official Horror Chapter 8: Mental Horrors, a gravity falls fanfic

Chapter 8: Mental Horrors

How long had I been running?

I couldn't tell at that point. My feet had given up long ago, and I was operating solely on fear now. After a while, my movement began to slow, and I dropped to my knees in exhaustion. A bit aways, through the sweat that was pervading my eyes, I could see Stan was sitting on a bench beside an unlit streetlight. My head drooped, and below us I saw cobblestone having replaced the dirt trail. It seemed that we had stumbled into some sort of park. As my body became aware of this, my legs gave up, and I instinctively aimed by back towards the ground instinctively to prevent Mabel from hitting the ground.

As my back smacked into the cobblestone below, I grunted in pain, but my energy was so depleted that only a hoarse groan came out of my mouth.

There, I laid amongst the cobblestone, staring up at the grey sky. I was angry, no, livid. There was no place for solace. Not even the sky offered the moon or the stars, nor pretty clouds to gaze upon. It was all a grey, distorted mass, constant thunderflash flickering throughout the neverending overcast sky.

I hated this place.

I fucking hated this place.

Powerless to scream and shout in rage at this hopeless world, I clenched my teeth in seething anger.

…

At that moment, I wanted to die. I wanted to die more than before. There seemed to be nothing redeemable in this world, nothing to offer. Every second I spent in this goddamn wasteland was a revolting indignation to everything good and merciful.

…

Why? Why couldn't I die? What was holding me captive in this FUCKING world that wanted me to suffer so much?! Was it that fucking triangle? WAS IT HIM? I can't understand how someone can be so FUCKING CRUEL!

FUCKING DIE! FUCKING DIE, YOU PIECE OF SHIT! I HATE YOU! I HATE EVERYTHING KEEPING ME IN THIS FUCKING WORLD! DIE A HORRIBLE DEATH! I HOPE YOUR WHOLE FAMILY IS TORN TO SHREDS BY THESE FUCKING MONSTERS!

DIE!

FUCKING DIEEEE!

…

I could feel tears streaming down my face as my body had convulsed in rage. Yet, I was too weak to manage even a small tantrum.

This world was too cruel. It was too fucking cruel….

…

Just then, I felt someone grab me by my shirt and drag me along the cobblestone. It was painful, but I was too fatigued to verbally object.

I felt Mabel's unconscious body taken out of my grasp, then I felt myself picked up and placed on a bench, next to her. I struggled to raise my head, but managed to see Stan, standing there, a grim look in his eyes.

My god. How could I forget? The one sane person that hadn't died yet, and I was lucky enough to meet him.

The tears wouldn't stop, even as I kept looking at Stan. I could see his eyes fill with pity. I didn't want pity.

With the amount of willpower I had left, I raised my hand, heavily shaking, and placed it on the hand that Stan held a bloody machete in. I pulled weakly, and he took the hint, leaning in so he could hear what I had to say.

"Kill...me…" I whispered. I enunciated it very, very, painfully carefully so Stan wouldn't misinterpret.

Stan lurched back, horror written all over his face.

"What...what the hell are you talking about?!"

I could say nothing further. My voice had died out, and the fatigue from running for so long with so much weight had exhausted every one of my limbs. By this point, I was half-conscious, but the one thing I was sure of was that I didn't want to be in this world any longer.

To my great distress, Stan shook his head, concern filling his eyes.

"Look, you're just tired. Get some rest for now, and we can...talk….when you wake up."

Rest?

God, what a word. The very word 'rest' made me envision solace from this world, paradise, that for once, I wouldn't be sleep-deprived and fearful that every moment would be my last. Of course, I also thought of the nightmares that could manifest from it, as it did back in the lodge. It put me in a truly terrible paradox of mixed emotions.

However, as the prospect of sleep was introduced to my brain, it could not resist. Thus, my eyes closed, with my lasting image being Stan, standing over me with a bloody machete. Yet, in that last second, I did not see hopelessness, sorrow or despair in his eyes. I did not see rage, resignation, or delusional optimism.

I saw real, raw determination.

Grim determination.

…

My eyes fluttered open. Groggily, my head swiveled around as I woke from a deep sleep. For the first time since I could remember, I had not suffered the nightmares that had plagued me everytime I slept. I was so deeply thankful for that.

My hazy vision could make out Stan, on the opposite end of the cobblestone road, crouched over something. My head dropped over to my left, and I saw Mabel's still-unconscious body laying on the bench. The wooden stake that had been impaled in her side had been removed and bandaged. I had no idea how Stan had found extra bandages, but I couldn't care less in the moment.

Finally, my vision began to clear, and I could feel my strength returning to me. I was thoroughly sore all over my body, so every movement I made was filled with stutters as my muscles would frequently lock up. Fortunately, I managed to get up from the bench. Looking down at my body, I was sickened to still see the pieces of wooden and glass fragments peppering my body. In some sick fashion, the blood had stopped leaking, and I could see dark patches of trailing blood coating me all over. It definitely explained the light-headedness I had felt so strongly in that time.

If anything, I was more terrified by how Mabel and I were still living, especially myself. I had been sliced and diced at the supermarket, to the point of near-death, then peppered with fragments through the wounds that were still healing from the monster herd attack.

The pain then began to settle in, ramping up in agony exponentially as my brain was beginning to turn on.

"Aaaauuuuggggghhhhh….."

I began to groan in pain, my hands clenching my torso in a futile effort to dampen the pain. I looked to Stan, who had heard my groaning. He held in his hand a single, white bottle.

"Take only two of these painkillers. We're running out as it is."

I wanted to hug him so badly. I limped over and reached out shakily, taking the bottle from his hand and desperately trying to open the cap. I managed to do so, seeing the pathetic amount of pills left, then shook the bottle sideways, two of them falling into my hand, and I reluctantly resisting the urge to dump the whole bottle into my mouth. Regardless, I was grateful for the medicine.

I popped the pills in my mouth and swallowed them, closing the cap of the bottle and handing it back to Stan, who took it and stashed it in his coat pocket. I noticed that he was trying to light a fire by rubbing a stick on a small, flat, rectangular piece of wood with two hands. He cursed occasionally as he tried over and over to spark something and ultimately failing.

I took my eyes off the sight and walked over to inspect Mabel, who looked unusually pale. It was most undoubtedly the result of the massive amount of blood that had been leaking from the wound where the wooden stake was. She had been bleeding out the entire time I had been running from that manor, so she was probably in really bad condition. We needed medical assistance as soon as possible.

However, as I began to think back to the event, I recalled Mabel screwing up the entire ordeal by stabbing one of the group members in the back. My anger began to boil up…

SMACK!

In a fit of rage, I had backhanded Mabel across the cheek, sending a resounding smack across the park. A red mark quickly began to crop up where I had hit her. In a small part of my heart, I felt a strong aching as I realized what I had done. However, rage was overwhelming my mind as I began to place blame on her for the events that had transpired.

"You stupid bitch." I hissed at her. "This is all your fault. Why did I have to be stuck with such a revolting, psychopathic piece of shit like you?"

As my rage subsided, I felt a crushing guilt fill where the anger had once been.

What was I doing? Blaming some psychopath, my supposed sister of all people, for the events that transpired. In all honesty, it wasn't completely her fault. That bull probably would have rammed into the house regardless, and the group most likely would have been slaughtered anyways.

However, I simply couldn't take the blame off of Mabel completely. I still felt suppressed wrath beneath the surface.

"Dipper. Come on. You don't hit women."

I turned around, looking at Stan, who had made the comment as he had turned to look at me. He got up and walked over, standing next to me as he looked upon Mabel.

"I'll admit, in that moment, I really wanted to slog her for such a terrible, terrible action. Regardless, no matter how reckless or irrational they can be, you don't solve the problem by smacking them around. You will be on the same level as scumbags for doing such things."

I stayed silent. I wanted to talk back, but I kept the urge suppressed.

"Dipper, if I am going to be honest with you, or if it wasn't obvious already, I am not a fan of strangers, especially in this current environment. When we were at the manor, I had planned on parting ways with you two and heading on my own. However, at this point, I've been made to realize that you two are...just kids."

He paused for a moment, seeming to gather his thoughts, then continued.

"I couldn't just...leave you two, after realizing that. She may be some sort of psychopath, but she's a child, Dipper. Sure, she made some pretty fuckin' stupid mistakes, but she's only a child. She's your sibling, for God's sake. And no matter how terrifying or morbid this world turns out to be, you cannot throw away your humanity, nor your family, or you might as well be one of those monsters prowling around this earth, doing whatever they can just to survive."

I turned to look up at him, and he had turned as well to make eye contact. He stared at me, deadset.

"We are human, Dipper. We shouldn't leave our own behind. We shouldn't hurt our own just for personal benefit. We shouldn't abandon them even in the worst of times. Even when you are stripped of your clothing and gear, even when you are humiliated, scared, or angry, you do have one thing to lose - and that is your humanity."

…

In that moment, I felt a small amount of relief pour into my heart. This talk, simple as it was, restored my confidence, courage, and hope, if only somewhat. I could feel tears begin to well in my eyes as I so badly wanted to hug Stan, to let him protect me from this dreary and dark world.

But I suppressed that urge, trying my best to hide my fear and weakness.

At least, at this point, things were starting to looking up.

Stan sighed, throwing down the sticks in his hands onto the street below, moving over and picking up Mabel softly in a bridal carry

"Why don't we get going?"

I nodded, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

With that, the two of us began to walk down the cobblestone path.

Author Notes:

- New chapters are uploaded every other day or every 2 days. This will not be the case after Chapter 10.

- Reviews are deeply appreciated. I read each and every single one of them, and they propel me to create chapters faster.