Return to Falls

Chapter 17

The cold wind of the West Coast winter sliced through Pacifica's perfectly moisturized skin. The bitterness made it feel like glass was falling from the sky, not snow.

Never before had there been such a heavy snowfall in Gravity Falls. If Pacifica could describe the experience in one word it would be: horrendous.

"God, why couldn't I live in Florida? Or California? Or anywhere the snow wasn't?" She said loud enough for everyone to hear, which she was sure they did. Nearly the entire town was shopping for holiday gifts, and Pacifica was putting on the perfect scrooge act. It was pretty clear that if she didn't get out of the cold soon, she'd become an ice sculpture.

Walking home was not an option, as the weather was too brutal, so she decided to call her mother. "Mom, could you send the butler to pick me up?"

"Oh, sorry dear. I'm having the butler prepare the sauna for your father and me. Just take the bus home."

"But—"

"Oh, it's ready. Bye, dear!" Priscilla hung up immediately. Not even a minute was taken to consider her daughter's situation. Unfortunately for Pacifica, she knew that was the norm.

Even though she was used to her parents' neglectfulness, it still hurt whenever they essentially left her to die. They did it once before when ghosts attacked the manor. If it wasn't -1000 degrees in Gravity Falls, tears would've surely fallen from her eyes. Take the bus. . . how could she say that? Pacifica wondered if her mother even realized that none of the buses were running.

Pacifica's body trembled as she paced through the snow. Walking home went from not an option to the only one.

"Excuse me, are you okay?" She heard someone ask, though she didn't see who. Her eyes were locked on the ground to avoid freezing over.

"Y-y-y-yes. Excuse me. I-I-I have to g-go." Pacifica did her best to respond.

"Oh my — here." The voice said before wrapping a large winter coat around her. When Pacifica looked up her body immediately felt warmer.

"Dipper. . !" Pacifica flushed when Dipper held an umbrella over their heads. She made a mental note to thank him later for dying a cold death.

"Sorry, do we know each other?"

"What? Come on, Pines. I'm really not in the mood for jokes. My parents didn't want to pick me up despite me freezing to death. Thanks for the coat, by the way."

"Oh. I'm sorry about that, but I'm not sure what you mean. And how'd you know my name was Dipper?"

"Because we've known each other for years. Really, Dipper? Could the jokes wait until we get back to the mansion?"

Dipper's face lit up, "A mansion?" Pacifica really wasn't in the mood to joke, but something in her gut was telling her he wasn't either.

She looked up at him. Her eyebrows furrowed, "Yeah. You were there. Remember?"

"Was I? I don't remember ever going to that mansion, not with. . .sorry, what was your name again?"

"Pacifica Northwest." The two stopped suddenly. Pacifica noticed the look of disgust that replaced any concern and confusion he previously held. His expression made her feel cold again. "Dipper, what's gotten into you?"

"The Northwests were responsible for my family losing everything. Your parents drove them from the Shack and caused them to be homeless. I've waited so long to meet one. . ." Dipper took a few steps away and reached into his jacket, pulling out a gun. Pacifica was mortified. She couldn't wrap her mind around what was happening. Although she knew her family was awful, they never did anything to the Mystery Shack.

"Dipper, wait! What do you mean?"

"You and your family will pay for what they did!"

Pacifica's fight or flight instincts failed her. Whatever direction her conversation with the Mystery Twin went in left her cemented in place. Her only form of defense was her hands shielding her face.

There was no feeling. No pain or sorrow followed the popping sound of the gun being fired. There was only nothingness.

"My goodness, your memories are easy to manipulate." Gulford positioned himself comfortably on the floor next to Pacifica's body. His hands remained hovering a few inches above her head.

Before he could probe into her mind any further, a surge of energy flowed through him. He glared towards the triangular-shaped window. His eyebrows pressed together in an increasingly hateful manner.

Anticipation of the inevitable conflict forced a laugh from his lips. Everything was working out. Pacifica was being used as bait, Mabel had taken a step back from her relationship with her brother, and Dipper was on his way. Alone.

The final step to his plan was coming to fruition. All that was needed was the location of the journals.