Dipcifica- You Can't Pay Me (DISCONTINUED)

1: Ghost Hunting

Dipper groaned as Pacifica Northwest tightened his necktie. He was stuck solving a mystery for the stupid Northwest family in their stupid mansion... Just so they could party an hour later. Great. And he was forced to wear fancy clothes... that, Dipper admitted, he looked kind of good in.

    Pacifica almost grinned at the sight in front of her. Dipper Pines, a guy she could never imagine doing anything fancy, was standing in front of her wearing a suit and tie. All black... not a bad look on him. Dipper was a little pissed that Pacifica forced him to abandon his hat, but it wouldn't have matched! With the hat out of the way, Dipper's hair sprung up in the front, revealing something on his forehead... Pacifica strained to see it, but when Dipper noticed her staring, he flattened his hair, covering up whatever that mark was.

    "Okay, okay," Dipper snapped, stepping away. "I'm wearing the stupid clothes. Do I get to solve a mystery now?"

    "Yes," Pacifica huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's the main room that needs looked at. Follow me, please." She led the way down multiple halls, purposefully taking unnecesary turns and complicated routes. For some reason, she found it fun to toy with Dipper, to make him think the mansion was larger than it really was.

    "Here we are," Pacifica announced, opening the doors that they had actually already passed twice. Dipper didn't seem to notice, making Pacifica grin... only on the inside, of course. "This is where it's been happening."

    The twelve-year-olds entered the room, which Dipper was thouroghly creeped out by. There were wooden animal heads mounted to the walls and a picture of a phsycotic-looking lumberjack over the fireplace. Of course, Dipper would never admit something like this out loud, so he blew it off, saying, "I don't think we should be worried. Ghosts come in ten categories... Something as silly as controlling cups sounds like a category one."

    "How do you kill one of those?" Pacifica asked, genuinely intruiged. She had always been intersted in the paranormal, ever since she was very small, when she mistook a gnome for a doll and tried to take it home. Of course, when the gnome attacked her, she was scared, but that memory also held wonder. Same with the mini golf incident. Sure, those weird little golf ball guys had tried to decapitate her, but Pacifica couldn't help being fascinated by them.

    "Just have to dump a little purified water on 'em," Dipper chirped, giving the vial a little twirl. "Shouldn't be very hard." He pulled out a tracker, checking for any abnormalities. "Ooh, I'm getting something..." The signal led him to the fireplace, and then it went out. "Huh, stupid thing..." Pacifica held in laughter as Dipper pounded on the screen. After a few tries, the device started back up again. Pacifica glanced up and gasped; the lumberjack in the painting was gone!

    "Dipper..." Pacifica gasped in horror as the wall mounts started bleeding at the mouth. Gusts of wind and fire swirled around them, and Dipper's vial exploded.

    "Oh, no..." Dipper's face went pale as he gasped, "Category ten! Category ten!" He turned to Pacifica, eyes alight with horror, and cried, "Quick! Under there!" He grabbed her arm and dragged her under the coffee table, just as the ghost started to form in front of them. It was the lumberjack from the painting! Of course, Pacifica's father had told her about him, but... She never imagined she'd see him up close.

"Dipper, what do we do?" Pacifica whispered, frightened out of her mind. "Hurry and read from that journal of yours!"

"I'm getting there!" Dipper whisper-yelled as loudly as he dared, flipping to the page on category ten ghosts. "Let's see, advice..." Dipper shone his black light on the empty space, revealing the author's tip: BEG FOR MERCY.

"Seriously?" Pacifica exclaimed, about to explode from anger. "That's it? Dipper, find something else on the run!"

"On the-" Dipper couldn't even finish his question before Pacifica grabbed his arm, leading him as quickly as she could through the mansion. When they reached the courtyard, Dipper kept getting hit by peacocks, which Pacifica would have found amusing... that is, if they weren't running for their lives. Quickly, they entered the other half of the mansion, dashing through the halls.

"Aha!" Dipper's triumphant cry startled Pacifica, loosening her grip on his hand. "It says here that a painting ghost can only be trapped in a silver mirror! Do you happen to have one around here?"

"Uh, I'm not sure..." Pacifica turned her head to look at him, which was a mistake. In an instant, one of her heels snagged on a rug, and she tripped, sending herself and Dipper tumbling towards a picture frame... And then through it.

"Wah!" Pacifica squealed in surprise as the two landed awkwardly in some sort of huge, dark, hidden room. She blinked open her eyes, startled to find herself staring at Dipper's face no more than an inch from her own.

"Aah!" Pacifica scrambled off of him, blushing. "I'm sorry, I didn't-" She broke off in horror as she realized that Dipper was unconscious. "Oh, God... Dipper, wake up!" She shook his shoulders desperately, but there was no response.

Pacifica quickly dug through Dipper's bag, finding what she was looking for: a flashlight. She positioned it so that it lit up Dipper's face, then rolled him over. The blonde gasped when she saw blood on his temple, just above his ear. Where's the wound, where's the wound? Finally, she found it: a huge cut on the side of Dipper's head. He must have hit his head on something as they tumbled.

"Oh Dipper, this is all my fault," Pacifica apologized even though the unconscious boy couldn't hear her. The most she could do was tear the bottom of her dress off to make a bandage, snickering a little as she did so. Take that, stupid dress that I didn't want to wear. I wanted the green one. Ha. Pacifica tied the cloth around Dipper's head as tightly as she could, praying that he was okay.

Now all there was to do was wait.