Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Another dark night
Leaf litter crumpled beneath earnest and heavy, thudding footsteps, at least, they seem that way to their owner. The only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat, and the pound of his feet hitting the ground as the adrenaline muffled anything else. The moon is high, a great crescent ascending upon the heavens as the sky grew ever darker. Slight panting could be heard as the figure huffed and ran his way through the forest in a desperate kind of frenzy. The moon barely shone through the space from tree to tree, the lush greenery blocking out all but the most trifling amount of the silvery light. When it did breach the cover, however, its illumination revealed brief traces of the figure’s features. Tufts of dark, auburn hair and a flash of pale skin. A hunting knife hung loosely from its sling at his waist, breaking out into a steady rhythm as it beat against his thigh where it would otherwise rest motionless as everything around him.
The runner would not cease his breakneck pace for anything, not a sound goes off around him, and even if it had, it would have failed to give him pause. There were things scarier than the unknown just then, he knew that, and there were far less pleasant things than a chance encounter with something foul in the woods at night. For him at least, this rang true.
Dipper Pines had faced worse than anything lady night could throw at him, he’d lost his twin… and as far as he was concerned, there was no coming back from that.
The bloody scoundrel had come for her and he hadn't been there because of a silly tiff they’d found themselves in. As if that mattered more than her safety. He knew she’d run for the forest, he knew that she wouldn’t head back into the village until he’d apologized or at least gone to comfort her, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to be the one to bend, he’d sacrificed so much of himself, his opportunities… just to keep her smiling. Because, in spite of all Mabel’s insistence that she was the “superior” twin, she still needed to be protected, from all the crazy mishaps that seemed to trail behind the two no matter where they were, from other people, and at times, even herself.
This wasn’t the first time a vampire had breached the first clause of the treaty, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. It was a wonder that the peace still held in spite of the fact, but then, it was one that neither side wanted to see abolished. It held only because of the many other clauses and agreements between the two peoples that not even the most lawless of the blood drinkers would dare disrupt.Dipper never liked it, but the treaty was hard won, and once it was broken, it would be near irreparable. But now they’d stolen the wrong person, and Dipper would make sure they knew it and committed his face to memory. Not even the treaty had been able to save his sister from the threat posed by lone rogues.
He’d failed Mabel when she needed him most, but he never would have accepted Ford's offer if he’d known this would be the result. He didn’t go after her despite all the dangers in the surrounding area, and by extension, he blamed himself for his sister’s abduction. All the time spent in practice and striving to surpass his Great Uncle to become the strongest, the smartest, and conducting his own investigations… Dipper longed to venture out into the world and see all that Ford promised was out there. It was an opportunity he’d dreamt of for years, but it meant leaving Mabel behind… They’d made a promise to stay together through thick and thin, forever. A promise he’d kept since they were children and had no one else but each other. He’d thought she’d be safe, because they had been, for years he’d considered Gravity Falls to be a safe haven.
When he did go looking for her, when he saw her being stolen away… he understood just what she’d felt. Fearful and alone, even now as he clung on to the hope that he could find her, would find her.
It’s the only thing that’s keeping him running now.
Another target, another goal until he found her, told her he was sorry he ever thought to leave her behind. He’d give up anything to see her smile again, to know she’s safe and her life isn’t in danger every second that’s been spared him. Because it should have been me, not her! No one’s the same without her, I can’t live in a world mourning Mabel, not when I could have stopped this. Not while it’s my fault she got swept up by some creep.
Vaulting over a fallen, fungi infested log, their bioluminescence the only true lighting beneath the shadows cast by the endless expanse of trees. He recalls so many countless hours of research as it greets his eyes, and long after he leaves them behind in his wake. The blue glow emitted by the mushrooms here are a different shade from the variety around the woods he’d considered home, though it isn't so far off, and they aren’t so different that he couldn’t recognize the genus, part of the phenomenon causing an alarming rate of bioluminescence in the plants of the area his Grunkle Ford called vi fervidus, or the glowing . Ford suggested it was probably caused by the need for the plants to pollinate or draw more attention to themselves, possibly to scare off herbivores from making a meal of them. Dipper only agreed with the latter theory in part, while his Great Uncle believed they were warding off the animals, Dipper drew his own conclusion. They were trying to blend in with the fungi that so outnumbered them, a last resort to ensure they weren’t consumed before their time, picked clean before they had time to wither away on the forest floor. Husks of themselves . . . just like Mabel would be if he couldn't get to her in time. He refused to accept what everyone else had, that it was already too late for her. Too late for hope. They couldn't take Mabel. They couldn’t take his twin.
He prays this time he’ll find her. He doesn’t care who answers so long as it works.
He doesn’t allow himself to consider anything else, not his own health, not his doubts, and certainly not his own life. Nothing mattered if Mabel was out there, and it was all his fault. And if he couldn't find her? Then the only thing he wanted carved into his grave marker was an apology in the language he learned hen his time should have been spent protecting his twin , Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa… mea culpa , until no space was left to add anything else, so if there was no afterlife, he could at least appear to repent in earnest. As if it would make any difference.
If he failed, he wasn’t going home, as far as he was concerned, there was no home to return to if Mabel in turn couldn’t be there with him. He didn't stop to consider it wasn’t something she’d want for him.
This was not the first night he’d spent hunting under the cover of darkness and below the stars.
One constellation in particular stood out brighter than the others to his mind’s eye as he broke free of the underbrush and overhang of the woodlands, urging him to continue twice as urgently at his break neck pace. Its guidance surging through his pores as he remembers everything he has ever worked for, he intended to give just as much effort it not more to find his other half.
He hadn’t been fast enough then, hadn’t been strong enough or smart enough, and he’d let her down when she needed most. He’d failed. Hadn’t he promised he’d always be there for her? He’d been fool enough to forget it for even an instant. He’d wanted to scream, to throw a fit and punch the wall, or someone's face. He compromised by glaring at everyone that stared a moment too long in his general direction, and punching one of the pines that sprouted about proudly wherever they pleased. He still had splinters from the incident, though they were no longer red and angry, dulled to a dull ache and a small purple bruise at his unprotected knuckles.
The only answer he was able to think of was going after her, and putting a bullet between the eyes of anyone that tried to stop him, so that’s what he was doing. If everyone else refused to look, that was no reason he shouldn’t do this last thing for his other half. She would do the same for him, and he’d be damned before he failed to follow her to the ends of the earth to ensure her the very same safety.
As he ventured farther into the shadows of trees and the all-encompassing forest, Dipper’s thoughts were drawn away from their depressing direction to the task at hand, or at least, the task he’d set out for himself tonight. Finding Blakeart and hopefully, answers. He doubted he’d discover anything new from this vampire, he wasn’t known for frequenting the woods he and Mabel had practically lived in as children, but he spurred on regardless. It wasn’t like he could very well ask these monsters over tea and biscuits whether or not they swiped up any young women in the past week. He’d be accosted by fangs and a flurry of talon like hands before he finished his tea, much less his sentence.
The wooden stake bit into his palm, the wood no doubt callusing and blistering the flesh there as his grip tightened at the image, and the thought of what they could be doing to Mabel Grinding his teeth, he makes another promise; When I find Mabel, I will throw every blow they’ve dealt her back twice as hard. The brunette makes his way to his destination in only an hour and a half. He’s making better time now than he’s done this a handful of other nights, though it’s only the tallies on his hunting knife that has him keeping count. Five down and only hundreds of others to go.
This one is male like all the others he’s faced, and has been known to be a blood drinker, frequenting the back alleys and the brothels alike to lure in prey not repulsed by the thought of being drunk from. He isn’t picky about who he manages to snatch, and while he seemed to hold residence a good distance from the scene of the kidnapping, it wouldn’t hurt to put another blood drinker of old to rest.
This mansion signified a drastic change in tactics for Dipper. While the others he’d hunted had found him in the woods and gone after him, this time it would be Dipper entering the unknown and facing the blood sucker’s home turf to get answers, or drive a stake through his heart.
Aside form that, it seemed pretty ordinary from the outside, aside from the apparent decay of the roof’s tiles and the overall age of the monument. If he hadn’t done his research, he might not have known to look here at all. It had a balcony overlooking what must have at one point been a well-maintained garden, but resembled more of a jungle due to prolonged neglect, shaded windows, and a wrought iron gate, one he easily slipped over, only to find his dress shirt had gotten caught somehow between the posts. Not now.
Dipper bit his lip, surveying the area with a skeptical eye. It was no secret that most vampires had a keener sense of smell than humans, in fact, they bragged about it often, especially the neighborhood shut-in, Robbie, that and the fact that their senses were all “superior” to your average no-fangs. It was something Dipper learned early on to be a weakness as much as it was a strength, however, if he couldn’t get unstuck, then it would very well prove to be his disadvantage.
Something skittered in the bushes of the overgrown garden, something large and with enough of a shadow that it had to be larger than any forest animal. Dipper stood frozen longer than he’d like to admit, every hair standing on end, before shaking himself out of his panic-induced paralysis. It was move then or wait for the other to make his move, and he was not about to let that happen. The element of surprise wasn’t on his side, but he still had a few tricks on his side. He could get out of this, he just had to keep an eye out while he got his shirt out from its ensnarement. He could get out of this, stuck or no, he’s faced worse things with no more intelligence than its beastiality, vampires weren’t typically like that. He tried not to let his thoughts wander to the knowledge that, while Vampires weren’t usually mindless creatures, their bloodlust often blinded them, and if they weren’t new blood and hungry? No one in the vicinity of twenty miles was safe.
He was right not to neglect keeping an eye out over the surrounding area, not a moment longer than he began to turn his head that the shadow stalked forward with inhuman celerity, snarling, with its sickly yellow teeth bared. The figure’s breath was a god awful mixture of vinegar and wet dog, and if Dipper had to assume merely based off of that fact, he would have already classified this one as an old-world vampire, one of the last few ancients that lived to see the peace formed between their two races, or technically species. Dipper knew they weren’t all as human as they appeared to be. Mabel’s kidnapper was proof of that. His head snapped back from a blow he didn't see coming from his attacker, a solid hit, square on the jaw. Dipper tasted copper, his teeth having grazed his inner cheek at the impact. If the vampire was trying to catch him off guard, Dipper was ashamed to admit he was pretty successful, his head hit the fence hard enough to send it to ringing, that and the ungodly shrieks of the other seriously gave him enough of a headache to disorient his thought processes. How was any throat able to make such a racket? Throat! Nearly as soon as he’d thought it, he felt cold, clawed hands against his neck and collarbone, prying at the high collar to try and tear at it. With every little scratch the vampire got in the more frenzied it became, the smell of iron-rich blood overwhelming it. Desperately he struggled to push the man off, to kick or knee him off, even elbow him in the gut to push him away as his free hand searched his pockets for some kind of powder. He couldn't see the colors in the dark, and he really should have organized them back after the last two scuffles he’d been in, but any of them would suit him needs. Still, he tried identifying them by texture, the itching powder was almost like flour a little clumpy in places, the ground mushroom… no use in this situation, he didn't need to see the vampire, he was on top of him, no… what he needed was- Aha!
Dipper didn't even try to hide his pleased grin when he found the correct bag of elements, not that the vampire would have noticed as blood thirsty was he was in that moment, Dipper concluded with a sigh, his smile faltering with his sense of achievement. This one… this one couldn't have taken Mabel or been in the right mind to hear anything about her disappearance, not if he was this out of control with the need to drink his life blood. Just another dead end. Still, as if mocking him to bring him back to the present, the Old bat was shrieking in his ears again, gripping the iron fence to box him in, straining and craning his own neck to get as close to Dipper’s as possible. It was almost funny to watch, if it weren’t so terrifying.“N-Not today! I’m afraid I’d like to keep my throat intact as you can probably see,” Dipper threw the golden dust at the offending man’s eyes, “Or you know, maybe you can’t after all.” It took a moment for it to sink in that something had made contact with the other’s face at all, and Dipper was worried that he’d somehow made a mistake, before a guttural howl resonated from the figure and he slipped to the grass in agony, recoiling as Dipper took a step forward.
Blinding dust, a little concoction Dipper had discovered the recipe to years ago, a little mix of various ingredients insanely difficult to gather, and of course, just a pinch of lemon juice, because why not? It was hella painful. The relief he felt when it kicked in had been immense, and Dipper didn’t bother saying anything else, just left the scene, panting and fixing his collar, or what was left of it.. It was nearly dawn after all, and if this was an ancient, an Old Age vampire like he thought, then he wouldn't last long enough to warrant a response from him. He’d be blind for a while, blind to everything but the pain, and if he wasn’t actually blinded- though Dipper doubted it- he’d be seeing the worst of his nightmares. He wouldn’t recognize Dipper much less which direction he was in. There were still a lot of things about Blinding dust that Dipper didn't actually know, he hadn’t made it himself, and he hadn’t shared his discovery with Ford, he didn't even know he’d ever have a reason to use it, always thinking it was such a cruel way to treat anyone. That was before they took Mabel, though. What he did remember, with a small shudder, was it had some nasty side effects . If the vampire wasn’t reduced to ash by the sunrise, then Dipper might actually have it in him to pity him. It wasn’t like he could have done anything for him, he couldn't interrogate him, he’d been defending himself and if he let this one go he’d either follow him back home or slaughter some other innocent bystander. Besides, every time he thought of that… he imagined it was his twin, Mabel, being dragged off all over again and he felt his stomach flip, bile burning at his throat.