n̴̨̲̜͖͈̝͈͎͂͂̕̕͝i̵̢̝̼̜̦̯͈̜̰̤̍̾̒͑̏͊̇̽͐͘͠͠ͅå̶̩̏́̎͊̃̋͊̓̿̾ĝ̵̳̇̆͒͊͗ą̸̢̞̘͎͚̖͖͌̿̒̋̚ ̵̛̜̱̺̹͖̬͇͇͖̦̻̖̐͆͗͗͗́͊͐̈͘t̸̥͙̺̰͍̳̥̙͓̹͓͕̣̗̟́̽͐̿e̴͈͓͔͖̘̞̬͖̱̯̭͈̮͓̓̄̋̑̔̅̑̉̅̏͌̄͘̚͜ë̶͓̬̖̉͌̇̅̑̑̎̅̓̐̀̀̕m̶̝͇͇͈͈͎̬͚͎̟͎͒ ̴̥͖̐̅l̶̝̝̗̞̏͗̂͆͗́̍͛̇̾͊͘͝l̴̹̩̝͙̜̿̿̾̋͂̑̏͘͘ ̵̰̜͍̥͉̜̒̽̈́̂̕̚e̸̢̛̞̳͓͍͖̖̝̿̃͗̄͆̚̕͜͝ẇ̸̡̟̳̳̜̞̯̳̜͙͈͍̩͗̃ ̴̢̙̳͉̠̦̹̖̩̜̙̖̺̇́̌̏͌͠ͅw̵̢̖͕̳̳̜͎̬̝͉̻̎ͅŏ̴͉͓̠̫̮̲̖̘̻͖̙͓̭͇̹̈́̌̎̒́̂̃͝n̶̢̧͖͚̫͍̭̟̰̺̫̖̜͂͐́̆͆͛͐̍̏̔͌̽̓̚͜ͅk̶̛̙͇̱̣̠̗͈̭̥̬̆̔̇̓̊͗̏̕͝ ̴̨͔̻̳͙́̾̌̑̓͛̊̐i̸̦̹̾̀̓ ̸̘̣͇͒̀̔t̴̛̞̝̝͂̂̂̀̾́̄̓̍̌̋̚͝ụ̸̅̽͑̽̂͌̀̿̒̈͝b̶͉̣̭̜̖̮̘̖͎͔͖̹̝͉͂̀͑͂͛̃̕͝ ̵̺͈̘̍͗̄̑̌͝͝n̶̫̲͇̺̜̺̽͜͜͜e̶̤̐̿̐̆̏̄̒̚̚͝ḥ̷̹̝͙̯͕͇͓͔̠̪̲͖̜̱̈́w̴̢̞̹̫̲͉̼͎̪̞̼̖͉̗͍̍̅̒́̀͗̚ ̶̡̛̤̭͕̈́̀͐̈͗͐̾̈́̑͝ẁ̷̫̥̖̋̆̑̌̏͜ỏ̸̡̧̥͚̲̱̼͎̝̈́̀̈̈́͂ņ̸̼̮͓̱̬̩̬̬̚͝ͅk̴̛̰̞̈́̋̉͗̏̅̌̑̍ ̴̢͉͕̦͙̟̳͇͔̙̘̝̘͎̅͂̽̈͘t̴͙͉̺̦͔͓̤͖̼̙̯̱̝̀̏̉̓̐́̉͐͊̎͋̕͝ ̷͍̹̯̻̫̯̘͍̪͎͙̿͂́̌͂̌́͘͜ͅń̵̡̛̪̦͌̃̽̊́͛̚o̴͖̪͙̠͍͓͉̓̈̌̾̀̎̾̂͒̚͝͝d̶̢̨̢̛̩̻͖̲̪͚̗̊̌͐̍̀̉̈́̃̕͘ ̷͓̰̾̽͋̀̽͊͛̂́̄̾̕͝͝ę̸̯͈̖̳̲̫͈̺̫͚̰̗̋͜r̶͙͈͚̦̪͎͉̬̖̝̒̓̉̍̀̈́̇ͅe̵̤̙̯̯̗͍̙̳̻̭̦͋͐ḧ̴̠̺̙́̋̑̓ŵ̶̛̘̗̼̟͈̜͈̝̼͈̓̆͆̋ ̴̘̖͙̘̠̦̫̯̪̮̯̹̓̄̈͋̍̃w̵̖̟͛͌ͅo̸̥̦̙͂̔n̴͕̩̰̤̺̤̤̯̰̑̓̆̾̀͆͂̆́̓́̾̍̈́ķ̵̛͕͉̮̱̘͎̲͔̱̙͈̄̇̋̀͜ ̵̧̡̘̱͌̊͐̎t̴̢̛͍̬͖̜͎̳̱̰̙̣͔̞͓̂̈́ͅ ̶̛̩̋n̷̫͍͇̣͚͗̑͂̋̇́͑̈́̚̚͝ͅǫ̵̨͔̪̬̰͉̼̮̀ͅd̷̟̝̦̾̒̅̿̀͊̾͜ ̴̧̦͍̤̱̹͍͎̫͙̘͖̑̌̆̽̂̇̓́̅͋̀n̶̢̥͚̘̱͚̟̠̤̟͍͚̩̏̀̈͑͆̕͠i̶̮͇̘͐̋͌́̍͆̆̋̅̿̿͝͝a̷͚̮̖̠̪̳͚̲̔̒̂̽͋͌̃́̄͐͆̈́͆͘͝ǵ̷̡͙̤͚͓͖́͂̓̇́̀̔̂̊͆͆̌͠͠a̶̻̹̰̭̣̓͝ ̵̡̰̤̬̖͓̰͗͗̐ţ̵̡̺̥̜̑͂̋́e̴͖͒͌̎͝͝ḛ̵̡̛̤̂̔̾̓͆̅̒̆́̕͘͜m̷̛̦̲̫͐̒́̈́̀̈́̂̄͊̂̾̕͝ ̸̢̖͔͇́̓̈́͗͌̊̈̿̊͝͝͠͝ļ̸̛̭̪̾͐͂̀̀̀̈́͘͘ͅl̶̨̠͍̰̖̖̈͐̐̀̓̏͘̕̕͘͜͝e̵̡̖̝̪̦̱͓̜͍͍̻̝͓͎̿w̷̡͇̺̩̗͊̑̅͊́̊͝͝͝
Blood is thicker,
but betrayal stings more.
—Excerpt from 'Book Four: A Memoir from the Shadows' by Stanford F. Pines, PhD
△
"Why do we need to elaborate on a story?"
I ask, my eyes drifting out the gift store window. I watch as a pair of Wally-Slaugons (squirrel-like creatures with laser eyes) chase each other up the charred remains of a totem pole. It had been a few days since our previous argument, but I was still fuming.
Stanley sighs.
"Because otherwise the parents will be searching for their kids' stone statues. Which don't even exist because th- they..." Stanley trails off, rubbing his shoulder.
...Are piles of ash after the Time Baby interrupted our Zodiac spell, I think, finishing the thought my brother couldn't bear to complete. He destroyed Bill and sealed the Rift, but not without also taking the lives of our dear twins and their friends.
If not for the Time Baby's lethal intervention, we could have finished the incantation and defeated Bill. But Fate had other plans...
"No! They must have died from natural causes," Stanley continues, his gaze solemn. This was the most serious I had ever seen him.
"I survived... barely," my brother begins, rehearsing the half-truth he planned to share with Dipper's and Mabel's parents. "And as for the twins..." He stutters, a muscle convulsing in his lip.
"...The twins didn't make it out."
Stanley pulls a crumpled "La Quinta Vegas" matchbox out of his pocket. And strikes a match.
"Don't—" I begin, but it was too late. The match drops to the ground.
I limp out of the cabin at a breakneck pace, with Stanley not far behind. Flames leaping behind us. My crippled leg erupts in pain.
"ARE YOU INSANE?!" I roar. It takes everything in me not to punch him in that big ol' bloated nose of his.
It's understandable that I look like a haggard bag of bones; I've been trapped in the Realm of Nightmares for thirty years, I retort. What's his excuse?
Then I realize my mistake.
"My research!" I holler, watching the shrine to my life's work burn to the ground. Stanley grabs my arm before I have the chance to scurry back inside. Even with decades of fighting monsters under my belt, Stanley was still stronger than me. Must have something to do with the fact that he was born six seconds earlier.
"We'll tell them it was an accident," my brother continues. I stop struggling. "One misplaced candle. Or, better yet, a gas leak. That way we can say that they passed quietly in their sleep."
Instead of being agonizingly slain by a Time Baby, I think to myself.
"And what about me?!" I ask. "Surely we tell Florence and Eugene that I also survived?" Stanley looks away.
"We don't tell them anything about you, Stanford."
"Brother...?" I stutter, a feeling of uncertainty seeping into my voice. My brother shoots me a look that shakes me to my core.
"I don't want to interact with, or be in correspondence with, the murderer of my grandbabies!" Stan snarls. The stray gray hairs on his beard were quivering. I stumble back.
"And I'm sure neither does their parents. Or 'May-May'. Or anyone else you've sunken your ruinous claws into."
"BROTHER—PLEASE—DON'T LEAVE ME!" I cry out. "I'm not safe to be on my own. My thoughts... pools of darkness. I can't be alone—not again! Please, Stanley," I sob, my body convulsing. I can't let myself be abandoned. Or else he would find his back to me...
Somehow...
Somewhere...
"You're the only one I have left in this world," I breathe, temporarily releasing my grip on the pen. Stanley steps towards the door, unmoved.
"Goodbye, brother," he whispers. And with a jingle of the door he was gone, severing my connection to him—and by extension, humanity—forever.
It was the portal sequence all over again, but this time was no accident.
I descended into S̴̨̜̻̙̗̤̬͙̝͑͌̍̒͗́̽̈́̽̕͝ͅ ̷̡̝̫̱̺̯̳̝̝̹̜̹̻͗͊̈́̈̊̌̅͂́̂̏̉̑̕̕S̷̛̪̘̯͉̞̯̮̘̱̗̘̣̻͈̬͌͛̑́͗̆́̂̓͠͝͠͝ ̷̡͍̘̼̞͓̹̝͒̐̀̿͜Ề̷̢̞̝̗̩̻̫͎̝̤̙̙̱̑ ̵̛̞͇̳̮͍̜͂̾̈́̚̚͜͝Ń̸̰̼͙̮̫̙̊͌̂̇ ̸͇̳͉͍̮͙̪̩̫́̍̽͆͛͠K̷̡̛̹̯̺̤̠̟̲͈̱̝̬̩͊͆͐̚͜ͅ ̴̢̱̘̜͍͕̈́̉͌̓R̷͕͌̚͠ ̸̨̨̤̮̗̳̳̰̘̬̼̥̤̀́̊̈̄͌͋͒͆̕A̵̢͖̝̩̥̭̒͛͛͑̽̍͛̈́͑̕͜͝ ̴̛̻̘̰͚͕̹̯̆̄̄̓̍̿̄͝D̵̠̺͚̟̱̙̫̩̰̭͈̠͉̟̅́̋̓̚͝
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YOU ARE READING
Love Me Dead《Bill x Ford: A Darker Reality》
RomansaThe twins are dead. Stan has turned against me. And my Muse, whose previous connection to me can only be described as something that transcended any normal human relationship, was destroyed. Or, worse yet, plotting his revenge from some shadowy ba...
