Trust No One

The Shack of Mystery

The tiny clock placed on my wrist ticked slowly, in the corner of my mind had created this early calm, this made the growing insanity worsen along with that feeling of anger and sadness that made the sharp pain in my heart turn to cracks of the already shattered pieces.

 I walked toward the last place I would ever call home; I hated being this close to such a dreaded place. I remember the last time I was here; I keep on steering back to a certain dream demon and the destruction he caused Gravity Falls, every time I blinked there was chaos roaming the streets and monsters uplifting earth's charred roots. 

A bag draped over one of my shoulders held all my notes, several books, and Vulpes Journal all tucked neatly in a stack sideways. My shoulder had slumped slightly as the exhaustion due to lack of sleep weighed me down and the temptation to fall over and sleep was on the upside, currently, I was in ruff shape and prayed that maybe something will go my way. 

I shifted both my feet across the path gliding across the rocks, pebbles, and hardened ground, though it was only three or so minutes before I reached the building, it felt different, it felt like it had taken hours for me to reach my distention but checking the still ticking watch on my left wrist it had only been two minutes.

 I still contemplated turning back and finding a bench to sleep on but before I had a chance to give leaving a thought suddenly the dimly lit streetlamps illuminated my ever-growing bags under my sleepy eyes and the nightly shadows that once-covered monsters that lurked in them. I noticed every other light had blinked on and off, its old age turning only a few off. It was time to go home. 

I stood for very few moments watching the Mystery Shack as a singular light was switched on, behind the curtains was a figure that looked like Mable, her silhouette was pacing, back and forth, back and forth the worry and concern visible even without the ability to see her expression. Should I be doing this? 

I then recalled the times we had together, the memories we shared, and the little things. Gagging at every thought that was cringe and found myself laughing at every happy moment we shared, chuckling to myself lightly as I walked up towards the small, wooden doorway. My nocking left silence throughout the forest and the building in front of me, and all the lights turned on bright. 

 "Stanly! Get the door!" Great-Uncle Ford shouted from a distance, his voice faint and rough with the words sleep-deprived lingering in his tone. 

 Grunkle Stan grumbled from somewhere nearby, not long after you could hear boots thumping closer to the door opening it with an obnoxious creaking noise, and when I saw his face there was no emotion. He seemed to have more gray hair than when I last saw him, more replacement teeth, and his eyebrows raised higher hopefully because of shock or something along those lines. 

"Stanford!" He screamed for his brother, my great-uncle, Ford with this certain look in his eyes, one that readers of shock and disbelief, " I think that we have another Hidebehind infestation." 

"That's impossible, we got read of those," My great-uncle walked up behind Grunkle Stan showing the same face as his twin with a small hint of wonder. "Dipper would have to still be in Gravity Falls for this thing to look so much like him." He quickly studied my starcher taking in all my features. 

"Maybe it's Mason?" Questioned Stan. There was this face he made while he turned towards his brother and back at me those slow couple of times, one that read of hope.

Ford began taking out a notebook and pencil, writing down something, "I'm not entirely sure, it's possible though." His voice grumbled slowly, his long sigh and heavy eyes indicated the lack of thought in this, did he do this often? Get his hopes up.

Despite the amount of questions running wild in my mind none seemed to be answered. What I remember from that night, what few memories I did have of the events, was being dragged down to Ford's lab for some kind of testing. The calluses on Stan's had pressed ruff against my back as he gripped me, stopping me from walking or moving at all.

Without a single explanation Stan and Ford set me down and Grunkle Stan grabbed a long needle with whatever yellow-ish brown liquid it contained and, what felt like, stabbing me with it followed my loss of vision, everything went dark.

A little While Later

_____

I woke to a beeping sounds. I tried collecting my thoats, what did I do last? The cafe? no remeber walking through the woods, down a path? Wait.. The Mystery Shack! I shoot up and looked around, the beeping growing louder when I finally saw it. More like who. Great-uncle ford sat on a office chair in the corner of his lab, a questionable look plastered all over his face. "What bring you here? Mason?"