~Pacifica's P.O.V.~

I had lost him. I swear to God, I had lost him, and it was the most traumatizing thing I had ever felt in my life. "Dipper?!" I had searched for who knows how long, and not even a trace of his presence was found. For a moment, I was scared that I'd forget what he looked like and his memory would be whipped from my mind completely; Like he had never existed in the first place. He just seemed to vanish without a sound and I couldn't even do so much as remember what he had worn last. I had to call the police. I had to file some kind of "missing person" poster or something. Maybe get in touch with some of the towns-folk and round up a search party. Maybe-

"Dipper!?" Far-off in the distance, a muffled whisper in the wind, came the same cry I had presented earlier. A feminine voice, strained with distress and worry, yet also accompanied by a hint of annoyance. "Where are you?!" Again, the voice called out to him, and for a moment, I reached my hand up towards my jaw to make sure my mouth was closed. Had I said that? No. The voice was too far away and sounded nothing like me. This voice was far more matured, though it was apparent that this was a child. Maybe around the same age as I was. For some reason, it brought me great hope, knowing that someone else was also looking for him. Someone else knew he was missing and maybe they had seen him before disappearing.

Without thinking, I raced through the streets, keeping my ears attuned and ready to pick up any more indications of this person's where-about. I was gonna find them and we were gonna team up together. Whoever they were, we were gonna find him together: Tonight. "Hellooooo!" I called out to the empty streets, hoping to lure them towards me. With luck, they'd respond and their position would be easier to track down. However, after I had called out to them, the calls seemed to abruptly stop. I couldn't here a thing from anywhere. Their voice was completely gone. Had I imagined it? Maybe I had said it. Maybe I was the one speaking. Maybe I was loosing my mind.

But, it couldn't be. I couldn't have said it because I know my own voice. I know my voice, and that wasn't it. Whoever was looking for Dipper, they planned on doing it alone. Alone.... I hate being alone. Slowly, this town became a tad-bit too small. The streets seemed to shrink and I could feel it. The word crept over me like a spider: Alone. My heart began to race and I wasn't sure how to react to it. My palms became sweaty and my forehead seemed to throb with nerves and fear. I could almost see the word on this street. The darkness grew thicker with every breathe I took and I was almost tempted to stop breathing, just to keep it from inching any closer. I spun around in my spot, hoping to find even a single lamp post lit. And, although I saw them burning just as bright as ever, I felt as though the darkness was drowning them out completely. I was scared. I was suffocating.

And, in the mist of this darkness, I saw a line of lamp posts. Although I knew they didn't shine any brighter than the other hand-full of bulbs, these ones seemed to glow. I stood still for a moment, noting the path this trail lit: It was the path home. My brain raced through the mental walk-through: Go down this road, hook a left as the Greasy diner, head straight through the forest, and you'll be home. I knew that was where I would end up if I did. I could feel it in my bones. The lanterns were guiding me home. And, more than anything, I wanted to get out of this darkness. I wanted to walk home and forget about this soul-crushing feeling I had in my gut. I was ready to leave this town and head farther past the Mystery Shack. I wanted to get on a bus, go home, and curl up next to my pet chicken. I was ready to leave.

So, why didn't my feet move? Why was I still left standing in the mist of this sinking feeling, when I could just walk away? Dipper. I wasn't leaving without Dipper, and neither were they. Suddenly, a burst of courage seemed to fill me to my core, and I was left with the desire to continue my search. But now, I had someone to help me. Taking in a deep breath, trying to steady my mind, I called out to the voice once more. "Hey! Voice!" I wasn't necessarily sure what to do, but I already knew that I at least needed to meet up with my new search-buddy. "I KNOW WHERE DIPPER IS!" With luck, they'd take the bait and be on their hands and knees begging for some input on where he was. However, that wasn't the result. Instead, I was met with yet another patch of silence.

Devastation came in waves. I was still alone. But, so was Dipper.

I would be looking for him, I decided, whether they helped me or not. This town was small, and Dipper wasn't a hard act to follow. I'd find him whether that jack-ass lent a hand or not. "That's rude." The voice let out with a sigh. My head whipped around in excitement, scanning each corner of the town-walls. Yet, I saw no one. "Up here dumby." Called the voice, and for the first time of the night, I was beyond words. Mabel. Right above my head, crouched atop a light post with perfect balance. Underneath my breath, I could hear myself let out a small "Holy shit", gawking at her. How did she get up there?

"I've been up here for a while, you know. Look up once in a while, trap." On any other day, this would have hurt my feelings immensely, but something was holding me back: She was here. I wasn't alone and she was gonna help me. I could feel it. "No, I'm not." She replied coolly, sliding down the pole with grace as she mounted her feet to the ground. She leaned up against the pole, perhaps waiting for me to ask her how she knew what I was thinking. But I knew. She was Dipper's sister. If Dipper could do it, why couldn't she? "Why aren't you going to let me help you?" I questioned. Mabel looked awful at the moment. Her forehead was oiled slightly with the sweat of a nervous child. Although she was graceful, her hands still seemed to ball up. Her eyes still seemed too squinted. Her face seemed too pale. She was nervous. She was nervous without him.

"I don't want it." She said matter-o-factly. "Whenever Dipper's gone missing, I've always found him. Trust me. This is none of your concern. I got's this." For a moment, she had his face. Not something supernatural, like his face was plastered onto hers and it looked super freaky. Just- this look. It was sad to see it, and I almost felt like looking away in shame for seeing it. It looked so naked for a moment, the emotion she expressed. She was descouraged. She almost looked home sick without him. She- She didn't think she would find him. She didn't- "I will find him, you BITCH, so just go back home." She was sour. Her face scrunched up. Her skin turned red with anger. Her shoudlers bunched up. Everything about her: Angered.

Or, maybe fear. In a moment, the anger was gone, and Mabel's long thumb nail quickly wiped away a fallen tear. She was more scared than I was. "You think- You think you know anything about him? He's my brother and I-" She paused, almost choking on her own words. She didn't look at me, yet I could tell she hated me. With those eyes, if she met mine, she'd hate me with everything she had in her. Mabel sucked in a shaky breath before continuing, and I feared her so much for a moment. "I know where he is..." She let out, and I just about fell to my knees in releaf. "......YES!!! Oh my God, thank Jesus! Where is he? Is he hurt? We've gotta go and get him before something bad happens to him!" I couldn't contain myself, and for a moment, I loved her like the world's best sister. It took everything within my body not to race into her arms and squeeze the life out of her.

"Stop it." My joy was short-lived, looking at Mabel. Fuiry flamed in her eyes as her fists clentched into angered balls of blue. "I- You can't save him, you idiot. It's not so easy." She bit off the edges of each word, her teeth clentched tightly. Why was she so angry? "You really don't know anything about this town, do you?" She let out an uneasy laugh, shaking her head as she looked to her feet and her blue fists returned to normal. I said nothing. I just wanted to know, whatever it was, I wanted to know why it wasn't easy. I looked to her eyes, and waited for her to tell me. For the first time, I actually waited for an answer.

".... He was taken... Sort of." Still, I remained silent. She would tell me everything if I waited. I knew that. "They're called 'Leaks', demon-like creatures that feed off of the helpless, the innocent, and the gone. I've never encountered one, but I know he was taken by one. It says so right here." She paused for a moment, reaching into her jacket, blue and stylized with tassles and beads. Her brow furrowed as she fumbled to pull out the object inside the inner pocket of her jacket. A book, red and dusted, appeared in her hand, the golded sticker shimmering under the street light. A proud number '2', painted in bold black ink, abruptly dominated the scene. I thought of the same journal I had found a while back, hardly even cracked open or peeked at by my own eyes. This book, however, had been opened and closed many times, I could tell, from the bends and wrinkles in the spine of the book, to the accidental coffee stains over the corners.

I pushed the thought away as soon as it came to mind, afraid. Something inside me, a small voice, whispered bluntly "Trust no one". I had no desire of letting her in on that. Letting her in on my ownership of this journal. Something just felt wrong about it. Mabel cracked open the book, flipping hurredly through the pages with speed. Taking a step towards me, she placed the journal's page in my face, providing the image of some kind of beast. Blackened eyes, hunched back, sharpened teeth which pertruded through the mouth, and two horns, mangled and twisted like tough layers of bark on a tree. It's face, covered in eyes. Tens of hundreds of eyes, some big, others small. It was disguisting.

"What.... is that?" Was all I could muster. Even the skin, a muddy red, seemed to crawl with an infestation of children's fear. My eyes scanned over the image, horribly sick to my stomach, yet unable to look away from it. Then, to the side of the image, in the upper right corner, the description read:

'Leaks': (Size: 19'8 - 27'11) (Interests: humans) (Appetite: Sadness)

"My encounter with this leak was an indirect accident, which I hope never again to run into. A partner of mine, often lively and chipper, slowly began to mope around at times of research. I thought little of it, accusing the attitude on a lack of rest and bad eating habits. However, over time, his attitude worsened and he became erritable and lack-luster, which I also dismissed. I found him mubbling to himself, sloshing around the room randomly, and stating his account of hearing someone call for him. Around this time, my research had become too important for me, and so I let the man go. I had already found a new research partner, nick-named 'F', around this time. And, although it was sad to aleviate him of his occupations, I found 'F' more fit for the job than he. "

"About a week later, I received a call from my old lab partner, offering his hand in the research of a new creature he had discovered. He accused this creature of whispering in his ear, beconing to him, and offering to take him away. At this point, I became worried for the man and quickly joined him at his home. To my surprise, that which he called a monster, was nothing but an empty room. Or, so I thought. Within this room, that which I thought to be a blackened carpet, was actually the shadow being cast by a creature only visible to his eyes. I was fascinated. I offered to help get rid of the creature in exchange for a scan of his brain, which he quickly accepted. "

"I had a flimsy hippothesis, one with little to no evidence to back it up, yet one which entreiged me: Could he see invisible monsters? I couldn't tell for sure, but I wished to test the activity of his brain in order to more propperly diagnose it. We started with the basics, such as simple word games and ink-bloch tests, before moving on to more tecnological examinations. His brain, propperly scanned, was stunningly tainted. Although, at this point, I had not perfected my mind-reading machine, I did in fact take corses in psychology during my high school years. I was mildly formiliarized with the brain's condition while suffering a mentle illness. Pictures and pictures of the brain's activity and the regions within, those which functioned to tell time, read, calculate numbers, and recall memories, were all blotted with dark shades of blue when being scanned."

"Conclusion: My (ex) partner did not in fact have the ability to see that which is unseen. However, he had something far less enjoyable: Depression. I recalled, for a moment, that he experienced his swift change in mood, from being mopey to enraged. All signs. In addition, this attitude went on for several months, the mentioning of voices not even appearent until this month resently. This creature did not cause his mood; It was attracted by it. "

"Although curious, I urged him not to go near the creature anymore, move out of his house, and make sure that none of his children would get close. For the first time, this man, brod-shouldered with flaming red hair, seemed fearful. He told me that the creature did not bind himself to the room, but rather, followed him everywhere he went. He recalled people walking through the creature without noticing it, while he, on the other hand, was fearful to do so. He said that this thing, whatever it was, wanted to be touched by him. He recalled chills every time he entered a room which the monster followed, and an urge, which he fought off harshly, to feel it's strangly textured skin. I warned him not to touch it, and he nodded agreeingly. However, his condition worsened."

"This lumberjck-of-a-man continued to sulk and grow moody, both around me and his children. Although I visited him regually for check ups, providing him with medications and support, his demeaner became sour, and he began to refuse my visits. I attempted to brush off his decision to refuse help, only to be welcomed with a call, late one night. One which chilled my bones. It was him, my old partner, out of breath and babbling nervously. I understood little to nothing of what he said in that call, other than the fact that he spoke of his children, his job, and his decesed wife. I became nervous myself, and attempted to calm him, only to be met with a chilling reality when he replied to me 'I want to touch it'. I barked at the phone, begging him to stay away from it, only for the line to be cut off. "

"Half an hour later, he was reported dead. In his hand, he held a bloodied ax, which he bludgened his own torso with, bleeding himself to death. I took into account the possibility of this creature, whatever it was, of framing him. But, why would it do that? This creature would never be seen, much less persecuted. So, why? In the end, I resolved the conclusion which brought me to tears: Manly Dan had done this to himself. This.... Thing, snuck it's way through Dan's brain and leaked this idea into his head. However, it was unreactive to others, those which could pass through him without so much as a thought. And so, it became apperant that this creature could only effect those already under the condition of severe depression and could only take full effect if the pertisipant accepted it. In other words: touched it."

"I felt awful. I had let a good man go from his job, ignored several silent cries for help, and led him to his grave. And, over time, I began to hear the voices as well. Within two months of this incedent, I finally met face-to-face with the creature and was able to get a full analysis of it. It's red skin, accompanied with thousands of crazed eyes, left me speechless. Yet, oddly enough, fascinated. Day in and day out, this creature followed my every move, stopping momentarially only to sniff things and grope at my person, although, for unknown reasons, it could not touch me. I suppose, if that was the case, than I simply had to accept him. He could not touch me, but rather, could persuade me. "

"His whispers meant nothing to me, although his constant following left me paranoid and self-conscience. At times, this creature kept me from focusing and left me consumed in the thought of it. It, in a sense, was leaking into my brain. I spent months with it at my side, watching me sleep, watching me eat, and watching me research. At one point, I became perplexed by his creature's effectiveness. I was with this creature for an estimated eight months, yet Manly Dan died after an estimated two-three months. A second conclusion came to mind: It's effectiveness was dependent on the severity of depression. I was determined in my studies, working day in and day out on something big, yet Dan had little to nothing to destract him, which led to an even greater case than mine. "

"It became appearent what I had to do in order to releive myself of this creature. I became active outside of my cramped basement. I took nature walks, made freinds, and became active in the comunity. I was really trying to get rid of this illness before the creature got the best of me. And, when that didn't work, I fashioned a plasma gun and shot it. I suppose plasma has some kind of effect on creatures like that, because I haven't seen it since. It scurried off into the woods, possibly infecting other mystical creatures with its influence. I was able to resist it's influence and remain clean of it's touch, yet, at times, I question what would happen if I had in fact touched it. Most likely, I'd kill myself, just as Dan did. But, had there been someone to prevent me from doing so, how would I react...?"

I was stunned by this. This book, this author, had encountered something terribly frightening. And, if Mabel was right, so had Dipper. "But, why?" Why weren't we running after him right now, right at this moment, trying to stop him? Why was Mabel so slow to grab him if she knew where he was? "Probably because I don't have a plasma gun and wouldn't be able to see the leak even if I did." Mabel looked lowsy as she said this, her shoulders slumped, her face branded with a pointing face, and her eyes plastered to the pages of the book. On the corner of the journal, she tapped the edge of the page, pointing out a small bit of information I had overlooked. *Directions to plasma gun creation continue on journal 3*

"Unless you've got one of these with a '3' on it, you'd be about as much help as I would." And, in a flash of ignorance, I think about the journal. At home. Unguarded. Literally pretty much never even touched or looked at. And Mabel's face lights up. "....You. Holy crap- YOU!" Without a second thought, I burst past her in the direction of the shack, begging with all my might to reach it before she does. I refuse to look behind me, but I know she's right on my tail. If it hadn't been for that head start I gave myself, she would have already out run me. I slide with every corner turn I make, scraping my knees against the paved streets. I heave and burn with every breath I make, my legs pumping with every instance of contact it makes with the road. I hear her, inches from me now, following with determination and anger as she gasps and spits out "You had it!!! You H-ad i-i-t!!" I reach the forest, the most terrifying place to be in this situation, only to force myself in. I couldn't let her catch up to me. I couldn't let her get there before me.

A blur. Trees and branches, blued by the night's sky, wipped past me in an instance of speed and addrenaline. I was tempted to stop, to peek behind me, to pray that I had lost her. Yet, still, I could hear her coughing out "You had it", over and over again. I'm sure her lungs were shredded from strain and exhastian. I wondered how long she'll keep this up for.

~Mabel's P.O.V.~

I'll never give this up. As God is my witness, I'll never stop pumping these stupid girl-legs. I feel my amulate, heavy upon my head, ready to grab for it and put a stop to this madness. But, apart from my frazzled mind and this confucing environment, I don't have enough energy or will power to capture her. So, I run. I race with all my might, hoping to reach out and grab her by the collar. I just have to get inside before she does. 'That's all this is. That's all this is. That's all this is.' I chant over and over in my head, hoping this'll keep me going, but I can feel my legs give way to the pain. I can feel my breathe grow horse as my lungs become dry and burnt from exhastion. My mind, focused on the back of Pacifica, seemed to be completely disconnected from my legs, which pumped with a mind of it's own.

The forest seemed to go on for miles. Miles. Miles. Yet, as my body swerved and dodged the bushes of this forest in senk with Pacifica's, I found that the shrubbery eventually lessened and the forest's darkness caved in to the warm light of a far off shack. Bingo-bongo. The sudden hope of this sight levvied some of my exhaustion and gave me a burst of energy, which I quickly used to jump her with. "Oof!" And down she went. I toppled her, trying my best to trample her during my scurry for the entrance of the shack. She pulled as the tips of my hair, managing to obtain a desent fist full, refusing to let go. Her on the ground, me struggling to wriggle from her grip, I let out a pained scream. We were wasting time. We were gonna lose him if she didn't let go, and she knew that. She must have known that, the trollop.

"What the heck?!" I pull my vision away from Pacifica, focusing it on the shack's porch. A boy, perhaps two or three years younger than us, propped his hands up against his hips with a dissaproving look on his face. I knew that face. I had only seen it once before, yet I fell in love with it once again. The boy from the magic show. Gideon <3 Staightening myself up as best I could with Pacifica still tugging at my hair, I attempted a gentle smile and wazed at him. "Hi-" The pulling grew more violent and I let out yet another scream. "Q-quick Gideon! Grab the journal before she- can get hold of it!!" Pacifica let out with a panic. With a shocked look, Gideon ducked back inside the shack, only to zap back outside with journal 3 in his hands.

"Little boy! Please! I need that!!" I begged. "Don't listen to her, dude! She's crazy!" With one final yank, I was off my feet and in the dirt, rolling in confucion as she toppled me. With a knee to the stomach and a hand in my face, Mabel scambled to her feet and burst for the entrance. As one final resort, I placed my hand on my amulate, enclosing her in a blue orb. The last bit of my strength, wasted on this stupid girl. I could hardly beleive my life choices at this point, so I just let it slide. She banged on the surface, hoping to weaken it, yet it stayed strong and upright. "Gideon! Give me the journal, I beg of you!" I panted with what little breath I had yet, extending my hand to him in a panic.

"You guys are crazy." I couldn't imagine what he was saying this for. I mean, yeah. Maybe, actually I did. Yet, I asked. "W-What?" I muttered. "I've had this journal since the beginning of the summer. I'm the only one who's even read it and you guys expect me to give it to either of you? Get real." I was shocked, and in that moment, Pacifica was furrious. "WHAT?! YOU EXPECT ME TO JUST LET YOU HAVE THIS JOURNAL I FOUND IT AND YOU CAN'T HAVE IT I NEED THAT JOURNAL RIGHT NOW IT'S FOR THIS ONE THING CALLED A PLASMA GUN AND WE HAVE TO BUILD ONE TONIGHT BECAUSE IT'S SUPER IMPORTANT AND-" I couldn't take this any longer. My energy was low as it was, and I couldn't exactly consentrate with all of this yelling.

The shield dropped, and she rushed up to him in a huff. I expected her to rip the journal out of his hands and storm off with it. I guess that would be better, but I just couldn't bare to see her save him instead of me. I attempted to scramble to my feet and race past her, but she had already made her way up to him. "Gideon! Give. Me. That. BOOK!" She stomped up the steps to him, only to stop abruptly. My legs were still numb, so I resolved to crawling. I strained my vision to see what had stopped her in her tracks, only to be drawn to what Gideon held in his hands. A gun, pointed at Pacifica. "You want a plasma gun?" I couldn't beleive this. He not only read the journal, but he built a plasma gun in advance, just out of curiousity. "G-Gideon... Where did you get that?"

"I built it, Paz. What do you think I do around here in my free-time?" He smiled cockily.

~Pacifica's P.O.V.~

Without a second thought, I lunged for the plasma gun, only for it to be jerked away from my reach. "What do you need this for?" We moved into the shack, my body climbing over him in an attempt to grab at it once more, only to be pushed away. I took a second to assess the situation, but all I could think about was Dipper's ticking time bomb. I don't even know how much time I have left. "Gideon. Seriously. I need that book." With a scowl on his face, he huffed irritadetly. "It's a journal, dingus. And why do you need either of these things anyways?" In a burst of anger, I could feel my face go red. I could feel my hands clentch up into tiny fists and my nose scruntch up like a rasain. I was about to teach a bitch a leason.

"Now, listen here, you good-for-nothing crap-nugget." I advanced on him, taking wide steps as he began to back away slowly. "This journal, unlike you, has been through pretty much every amazingly daring event possible. Monsters and all. I need that journal for one of those things, and if you don't give me that journal and your plasma gun, we're gonna have a serious problem. Now. Give it." I continued to advance on him, and he continued to back away, gaurding the book between his two fat, pale little arms. "Wh-what kind of monster?" I stopped. How much time was left for us? Did I even have time to get Dipper and shot that weird leak-thing? Either way, telling him might make it easier to get the journal from him.

"It's- Well, it's kinda like a suicide monster. It's called a leak, and that plasma gun's the only thing we've got against it." His eyes lit up, as if this were the most amazing thing he had ever heard. "An actual monster? No. Flippin'. Way." I was surprised with him. Last I checked, Gideon had a greater fear then interest for monsters and goblens and gnomes. I guess, when you have directions (like this journal), it makes you just a tad bit less fearful of monsters, since you now know them. Their weaknesses, their strengths, what attracts them, what drives them away. I could use that on him. "Yes way. And I need it for a friend. He's kinda in trouble, and that plasma gun's the only thing that can even touch it. Crazy, right?" I laughted it up, trying my very best to lighten the mood with him. If it wasn't appearent enough, weren't on the best of terms with each other. I looked at him. Absolutly vibrating with interest. I took my chances.

"Alright, well, since I seriously need these things for this crazy monster-dude, I think I'll just-" Yet another grab for my items. Yet another failure. He stantched them out of my reach, scouling at me. "Oh, for crying out loud, Gideon! What do you even want with those things? I'll give you four...- no - five dollors for your stupid book and an extra two dollors for the gun." I could tell he wasn't buying my bluff. Honestly, I haven't even gotten paid since I got here. I think Mr. Bud really is using me for free child labor."Come ON kid! What do you want for those journals!? I'll literally give you anything!! So...- like, just...- ARHHHG!" I don't have time for this. I don't. I really really need to get this plasma gun and get Mabel to tell me where Dipper is before I die of sadness or something.

"Anything?" He looked suprisingly pleased with my response, which I silently kicked myself for, but it seemed to be lurring him in. I might have just enough time to snatch that journal up and save him. "Yeah, anything... ~You little creep-boy~" I whispered the last bit under my breath, just to make sure I didn't blow the sales pitch or anything. With a twistedly delighted grin, he replied, "I wanna come with you, then!" FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK...

~Half an hour later'

"So, where's he supposed to be anyways?" I held Mabel up with my left arm as she sloshed along, still too beat to walk on her own. Or maybe she was fine, but lazy. Mabel looked erritadly at me, grumbling under her breath before giving directions. "Take a left here." I wondered how she was able to find him, but I guess it made sense. They were twins, so maybe they were, like, connected at the brain? "No, that doesn't work. Now please stop thinking and just walk while I give you directions." She was definitly annoyed with my tagging along, which I guess I can understand. "Oh boy oh boy this is gonna be so much fun I can't wait to see what this thing looks like this is gonna be totally kick a- I mean this is gonna be totally bonkers when I see this thing for the first time in the entire summer I can't wait..." Yeah. I totally get how she feels right now.