Misrule (Depravity Falls)

Chapter 1

There's something under the bed.

Dipper abruptly sat up, searching for the origin of the voice. It was almost 4 AM and he hadn't slept at all. The topic of myths and monsters overwhelmed his head, making it hard to even think about sleeping.

We're in the dark... Get out of the dark!

The desperate voice rang through his head once again. This time, it sounded like it was about to cry out of panic. Dipper had heard something similar before when working in the shop, but he had always assumed it was someone thinking out loud.

But this was different.

The subtle whispers were only barely audible. He sat in his bed and stared at the wall, trying to think of a reason behind the noises. Unfortunately, the only thing he could think of was maybe Mabel was making the voices. That reason wasn't an option, though. None of the voices sounded like Mabel.

Dipper stood up and tiptoed over to his desk. He had left the journal sitting there a few hours ago. He grabbed a red flashlight out of the desk drawer and began flipping through the pages. Some of which he had never bothered to look at before. He only knit-picked the pages on creatures he may have encountered before.

Although he kept an eye open for anything that might cause something similar to auditory hallucinations, he didn't really have a purpose for looking. He could go through this book thousands of times and it would still be interesting.

Mabel shuffled in her bed. The light and pages turning were probably waking her from a light sleep. Dipper had no idea why she would be woken up by such a weak light, but he patiently waited to greet her.

She's getting up.

"Sorry Mabel." He mumbled as she rolled over to face him. Her eyes were only partially open. Her hair was in tangles and she was clearly disoriented.

"Hm...?"

"Are you even awake?"

"Eh... Yeah..."

"You wanna go back to bed?" He asked, feeling guilty of disturbing her so early.

"Actually no." She said, lifting herself from her pillow, "... Want some tea?"

***

Mabel made honey tea whenever she had trouble sleeping. Although Dipper wasn't one for tea, he gave it a try. He would have to be awake in 3 hours and he could use every possible sleep aid.

"Mabel, do you talk in your sleep?" He asked, taking a small sip from the hot cup.

"I have no idea." She replied. Not that she would know even if she did.

"Well I thought I heard someone." He muttered.

"I didn't hear anything." She she shrugged as she leaned down to pet Waddles, who had come up between the two of them.

"Huh. I dunno. Kind of sounded like you." He glanced down at the chubby pig, looking friendly as always.

"Hehe. You're going crazy, Dipper." Mabel joked as she rose and set her tea down. Dipper snickered in response, hiding the fact that she was probably right.

Her sleepy smile faded and turned into a look of concern.

"You've been on edge ever since..." She trailed off, gesturing to Dipper's arms. He had a quick flashback to the abusive possession he endured, but quickly snapped out of it.

"That's true." He muttered, not really sure what else to say. Another sip of tea distracted him from the conversation.

"You don't like to talk about it, huh?"

"I just... It was humiliating." Dipper refused to meet his sister's eye.

"I'm here if you wanna talk about it."

"You were there. There's really nothing to talk about." He responded, trying not to sound aggressive.

"Oh I know, but I noticed you talk a lot less. Not just about what happened, but  in general."

Liar!

Dipper perked his head up, "What?"

"I said I've noticed you talk less."

"No I mean... Never mind."

"You're tired." She said, "you don't have to finish the tea if you don't want to."

"I'll take it upstairs. C'mon. You need to sleep too."

***

"Nail you to the cellar floor, Pine tree. After all, your arms are very durable."

Dipper jumped awake in a cold sweat, greeted by the sound of his alarm. He instantly felt the lack of sleep eat away at his energy.

Mabel had already gotten up, by the look of her unmade bed. She normally woke up a little earlier than Dipper.

He ruffled his hair as he took in the cool morning air. The attic always seemed a little colder than the rest of the shack, which came in handy on hot days.

10 minutes later, Dipper trotted down the stairs to start another day of working in Stan's shop. He ignored Soos's offer of waffles and immediately made his way out the back door.

The forest was always beautiful, no matter what time of day it was. He used to appreciate every second of it, but now it was just a bitter reminder of the dangers that the world really holds.

Unlike most days, he wasn't taking the journal with him. Instead, he took a pocket knife and a plan.

A nightmare had given him this idea. He was going to make it clear that nothing from that god forsaken journal could take him away.

3 trees. That's the starting number. 3 trees would have the constellation of Dipper's name carved clearly into the bark.

This isn't how things should be.

There they were again. Those confusing voices trying to distract him from his work. He ignored them and began slicing the wood. With every cut, the voices only got louder.

Why do you do this to yourself?

Revenge.

No... You're doing everything wrong...

With his hands covered in fresh tree sap, Dipper put away the knife and admired the symbols of determination he'd tattooed onto nature.

And this became routine.