Missing

Modeling and Rotting

"Okay. Had seen Dipper and Mabel the night before. They met at the diner at six, the twins told her that they'll be back at nine."

Amelia connected Pacifica's report to the board. She had taken over the twin's room for the moment, Ford already promising that she could sleep in his room if she found the twins.

The bandaged wrist stung as she picked up the list of phone numbers. Ford and Stan had taken care of the cuts well, but it still stung and burned like it had just been carved in. Amelia let out a hiss, rubbing it.

"Hey Golden Candle!"

So there he was.

"Cipher." She said politely, looking over the list in her hand. Candy Chiu, Grenda von Fundshauser, Pacifica Northwest, Gideon Gleeful, Wendy Courderoy, Robbie Valentino...

"What do you think?"

Amelia looked up, forgetting about the list in her hand.

One word was tall.

The suit was black with a white shirt, little golden triangles on the cuffs. The coattails had a golden brick pattern on them, matching the tiny jewel in his bowtie. The black cloth matched his hat.

"Nice object head form. You might need a full human form, though." Amelia said. Her wrist felt warm. Glancing down, she let out a "Crap." at the red bandage.

Hurrying to the bathroom, she undid the bandages. Amelia was now staring at the healing mark Bill had carved into her skin.

Bricks surrounded her wrist, stopping at the top of her wrist. A triangle with a eye in the center was where it stopped- a sign of who her soul belonged to now. The alcohol seeped into the blood with a muttered curse, the healing salve put on next. Then, bandages were tied on.

"Still healing?" Bill asked when she entered.

"Yeah." She mumbled, pulling her sleeve over the bandages. "So, do you know where they are?"

"No, I don't." Bill said. He had been staring at Dipper's journal with interest.

"I thought you knew everything."

He rolled his eye. "Lots of things is different from everything, Golden Candle. I never claimed I knew everything."

Amelia sighed. Touching her new eyepatch- stolen from Stan- lightly, an idea popped up. "What about whoever ripped my eye out? It has to be the same person."

"Can't find that out either. I tried to find the place, but it was blocked. When I tried going through your memories, nothing showed up, which is rather odd." Bill tapped his point in thought.

"Odd?"

The demon sighed, leaning to stare at her eye to eye. "You would have to be awake for your eye to be removed. Yet, there's nothing. You left the diner and fell unconscious. Then, you woke up at the Shack. But, there's nothing in between."

"So... somebody messed with my memories?" The thought was frightening.

"Yes, possibly."

The doorbell rang suddenly, making Amelia stiffen. "I'll get it!" She called, hurrying downstairs.

Bill watched her, turning his attention to the new journal. He opened it, flipping through pages until he landed on one. A drawing of himself leered up, next to a big DO NOT SUMMON. The demon hid a laugh- in the end, Amelia was just as bull- headed as her cousins.

Then Amelia's scream ripped through the Shack.

The demon dropped the book as he floated downstairs. The old men supported the youth, staring at the steps in horror. Taking a look, Bill could see why.

A decomposing deer sat there, maggots running through. Pinned to the head was a piece of blood stained, typed on, paper.

THREE STRIKES AND YOU'RE OUT, PINES