"WHAT?" He sounded much more anxious than I was expecting.

He was a grown man for fucks sake.

"God fuck, I'm the student from UofO you agreed to take on as a research assistant for a semester... that ring any bells, Dr. Pines? Y'know, the University of Oregon... we're the ducks... the engineering program—" My rambling was cut off by the Ph.D. guy himself.

He pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head and wagging a finger to get me to stop talking.

I would not be surprised if he sent me back on my way based on the rude manner I just spoke to him. It was a little problem of mine—but what else should one expect from a foster kid with a harrowing case of amnesia?

"Yes, yes—I know who you are. Charlotte, right?"

"Uhm," I clicked my tongue, "Call me, Chuckie..."

"Well, Chuckie, I apologize—I forgot I signed up for such a program... I've had a bit of a hectic few weeks..." Dr. Pines apologized, attempting to stay professional but the slight reddening of his pale cheeks implied he was embarrassed by his own forgetfulness.

"They didn't call to give you a reminder or heads up that I was coming?" I questioned hotly.

He shook his head—pale features still warm at his own mistake.

I could not even imagine what he must be thinking right now. Some random undergrad student shows up on your doorstep from a program you forgot you signed up for. Not only that, but my looks did not exactly give off a 'smart-as-fuck engineering major' at first glance.

My raven locks were cut short—messy curls that had been chopped to just above my shoulders with a haphazardous fringe that fell into my eyes.

My skin was a deep caramel: the government had deemed me most likely Middle Eastern—Egyptian to be exact—in terms of ethnicity.

Even as my ethnicity was not white, there was no indication that I was actually born anywhere other than the States. My mannerisms reflected that of a girl who'd lived in 'Merica for her entire life.

I also did not show up on Dr. Pines' doorstep dressed as I probably should have. I did not stand in his presence looking like some typical preppy scholar. Rather, I stood with eyes rimmed in black liner and mascara, ripped-up jeans, a tattered flannel, and a few hidden tattoos.

Oh yeah, and I came bearing the devil hot on my tongue.

Stanford's eyes slid toward the parked Camaro.

"I thought I heard a car engine..." He mumbled before jerking his head in the house. "Come on then, I'll show you up to your room..."

I was surprised that he did not send me back to the school seeing as he seemingly forgot all about me, but I said nothing as I followed him inside—allowing the door to close behind us.

I was not exactly sure what I was expecting, but it certainly was not this.

The entire house looked as though his laboratory was leaking in. This area, in specific, was some sitting room that was flipped into a makeshift junk space.

Well, not necessarily junk seeing as a huge dinosaur bone-head (and yes, it was real bone, I could tell from the structure) was sitting in a tank of blue fluid. Probably something to keep it from decaying.

Was that not considered a hazard?

Other random gadgets were lying around—many pages and walls with research pages pinned on them.

I quirked a brow as I noticed that one of the pinned pages was a diagram of some monster. Other pinned papers adorned rough sketches of what I assumed to be places in the Gravity Falls forest.

"Sorry about the mess," Dr. Pines coughed awkwardly as I followed him through a foyer that led into a kitchen. "I wasn't expecting company..."

Yeah—we established that one, buddy.

By the foyer was a staircase that loomed downward into what was no doubt a basement. I was willing to bet the basement was where he housed his real lab.

The staircase was unusually dark—it piqued my interest.

Beyond the foyer was another sitting room, but this room looked closer to what it was supposed to. A comfy sofa with a square television across from it. There were not too many pictures, but the few that did hang depicted a small variety of people.

Namely, Dr. Pines through the years along with an almost identical boy next to him. He must've been a twin.

There was another, much younger boy that looked similar to Dr. Pines and his twin but not identical.

There was only one picture that housed a couple—a stern man with a wife who looked like every other woman from Jersey.

"Through there is the kitchen," Dr. Pines pointed to another archway that led into what I could see as a fair kitchen.

Not particularly big but not incredibly tiny either.

"Downstairs bathroom down that hall..." He pointed to a skinny hallway. "The downstairs bedroom is across from it."

"Am I in there?" I questioned only for him to shake his head and lead me to a steeper-than-safe staircase.

"No, our rooms are upstairs..." He explained, the wooden stairs creaking under our weight as I followed him up, my suitcase thumping behind me.

"How old is this house, Dr. Pines?" I asked with nothing but curiosity driving the question.

He briefly turned to me, pale cheeks slightly pink and eyes still frazzled behind his thick glasses.

"Please, call me, Stanford: I may have a few Ph.Ds but I can't imagine that I'm that much older than you..." He said before answering my question. "And the house is only a few years old, I had it built when I first moved here,"

I internally whistled—could've fooled me. Still, something was charming about it, like the rest of the town.

"And how old are you..." I paused before saying his name, as though testing it on my tongue. "Standford?"

"Twenty-six..." Was his answer, straight to the point.

This time I dared to whistle out loud—he was even younger than I assumed. It was not that he looked older than 26 either, it was just unheard of to have a Ph.D. so young.

"I suppose you're right. You're not that much older than me... give or take ten years or so..." I hummed, choosing to mess with him right off the bat.

Stanford stumbled up the rest of the staircase, turning to me wildly, fixing his glasses as he looked at me horrified.

"You're sixteen?" His voice was hoarse and full of what I would deem as terror.

I gave a shit-eating grin back.

"Oh sorry, must've done my math wrong—I meant five years... give or take..."

I mean, I still was not sure exactly how old I really was, so we could've been even closer in age. Or further apart, who knows?

Stanford gave a relieved breath but stared back at me with unhidden annoyance.

"So you're 20—just like they told me..." He relaxed. "A stupid mistake for one of the best students UofO has ever seen... and an engineering student at that..." Stanford said sternly, letting me know that my joke was unappreciated.

A part of me wanted to laugh in his face—the part of me that I tried to keep buried. The chaotic and impertinent girl who was constantly lurking just beneath the surface.

But if I did that then there was no question of Stanford kicking me out of the house and ultimately the program.

What a tale that would be—the student who got kicked out of the research program less than a day in.

"Even smart people can make simple mistakes..." I responded easily as Ford finally stopped by another thick wooden door, cracking it open and revealing what was inside.

On the thick door, smack in the middle was a symbol that looked oddly similar to the Eye of Providence. I was not able to think more on this for my attention was taken to the room.

It was simple but big—able to house a long couch, a desk in the corner, and a bookshelf that took up most of the back wall. An end table was situated by the door and on the side of the couch, a calendar hung above it.

It was flipped to August, the year '1981' circled at the bottom.

What a year to be alive.

"The couch is a pullout..." Ford explained. "I figure it was better to set you up in here seeing as the room downstairs is much smaller... my bedroom is just down the hall if you need anything... there's a bathroom between the two..." He paused awkwardly, shifting toward the door. "I'll let you settle in—come downstairs once you've had time to get your bearings and we can discuss what you'll be doing and such..."

"Thanks, Dr—" I quickly corrected myself. "Stanford..."

Stanford nodded, adjusting his glasses before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

I shoved my suitcase and duffle bag in the corner—taking off my shoes before falling to the couch rather unceremoniously. A breath of relief escaped me and I laid on my back and stared at the ceiling.

Of all the places to be sent...

I huffed while shaking my head not wanting to think about how nice it would've been to be sent somewhere like Italy or Japan.

Then again, apparently Dr. Pines was the best of the best. And he knew a lot about the mind—I wondered if they had already told him about my 'situation'.

Somehow I doubted it—I'm pretty sure it was against FERPA to release such private information. I would need to explain it to Dr. Pines and see if he had any ideas on things that may help to alleviate the amnesia.

My eyes traced over the roof, catching the small hints of triangles that seemed to be part of the wall engravings.

There were certainly a lot of triangular symbols in this house. Weird.

Something in the backside of my jeans painfully dug into my ass. Lifting my hips—I dug into my pocket and pulled at a familiar square object.

A smile lifted my lips as I turned on my Gameboy and started playing Tetris.

Should I be doing something more productive? Probably.

Call it cockiness—whatever—but there was nothing I needed to do prior to speaking with Stanford. I had no clue how much work he planned to give me, so I decided to relax for the next thirty or so minutes.

Playing Tetris and resting my eyes.

Before I left for downstairs, I walked along the bookshelf and eyed some of the books. Surprisingly, there were more than just random textbooks—works of literature were nestled in there as well.

Ender's Game caught my attention.

I'd never read that one before, but upon plucking it from its space and reading the back, I learned that it was a futuristic military science novel. Deeming it interesting, I threw it on the couch where I had previously been sitting before once again putting on my shoes and heading downstairs.

The stairs groaned as I went down them—turning through the archway that led to the kitchen.

Thankfully, Stanford was already there sipping on a mug of coffee and writing in some sort of journal.

"Stanford..." I greeted but was unable to say anything else as the scientist stood up.

He turned to me swiftly, practically forcing a book into my hands.

"Learn everything in this journal—I'll give you a few days to familiarize yourself with it before I give you the second edition..." He explained.

I raised a brow, bringing the book to my eyes to see what the hell I was expected to read. A reddish brown leather journal had been tossed into my hands, very similar to the current one that he was writing in.

On the cover—Stanford had cemented a gold placard of his hand. In it was the number '1', nothing else revealed the contents of the journal.

"That journal holds many of my findings of Gravity Falls for the first two years I lived here—the second edition is a continuation and I started the third edition a few months ago," Stanford explained, running a hand through his hair.

Rather than flip the pages to catch a glimpse of what was inside, my attention was on the fact that the placard pasted to the front had six fingers.

There was no way...

I slowly looked from the journal to Stanford's hands—and sure enough, the guy had six motherfucking fingers on either hand.

"Holy Christ—you have six fingers? That's bitchin'!" I exclaimed in wonder.

Stanford suddenly seemed a bit self-conscious but held himself tall.

"Bitchin?" He mirrored back in a voice of confusion.

For a guy only five years older than me you'd think he was a lot more.

"It means it's hella cool!" I explained. "What's it from? I assume a rare genetic condition, but does it run in your family? The extras look strong, do they function okay?"

Standford looked down at both his hands, clenching them into fists before hiding them behind his back. However, he answered in a tone that let me know he was not offended by comments and questions.

"It's a rare genetic mutation called polydactyly syndrome—not run in my family just a rare chance with my DNA... and yes, both hands are more than functional." He explained, the wooden floorboards creaking under his weight.

"Wicked!" I chirped before bringing the book to my face and shifting through it. "So what're the findings about? Rare fungi? A new sub-species of fox?" I snorted, but fully expected the journal to be filled with normal research concepts like different fungi or maybe even a new type of squirrel.

My face fell when the first page that greeted me was a detailed description of the 'Enchanted Forest' with many sketches. I continued flipping, my eyes skimming past pages of random things that looked like they came straight from some mythical novel.

"What the fuck is this?" I deadpanned, once again unable to fight the devil on my tongue as I spoke to the Dr. "Unicorns? Werewolves, vampires... ghosts? Is this a joke—is this even a real program?" I scoffed, slamming the book closed.

Looking up, I met the gaze of Dr. Pines who took a seat at the table, motioning to the seat across from him. Considering I had already been extremely disrespectful and it was a miracle he had not already thrown me out of his house—I took the seat across from him.

"Before you ask—no I am not crazy. Yes, this is a real program and you are actually my research assistant for the semester, but what I did not mention is that you'll be doing and studying a little more than just classic engineering... you'll be helping me study the oddities of Gravity Falls!"

I stared at him blankly. Vampires and werewolves? No way any of this is real.

However, my mind went back to when the advisor told me that Dr. Pines was studying the local hoaxes.

I thought he meant he was studying the origins of the hoaxes, not literally trying to find supernatural creatures!

"This can't be real!" I shook my head. "Are you testing me? Is this because I messed with you earlier? If it is, I'm sorry but—"

He cut me off, frustration leaking into his tone.

"I am not playing games!" Stanford exclaimed. "Listen, little back story about me—my whole life I'd been teased for my six fingers. So when I graduated and was issued a large sum of money from my university to research what I wanted the choice was obvious. Anomalies, odd things—unusual things, statistically improbable things! Gravity Falls has the highest concentration in the world of such happenings!"

I suppose it made sense to a degree—I had been wondering why such a successful scientist was living in such a small town. But still, I was not completely convinced that everything in this journal was real.

Stanford continued to speak to me. "The properties of this town are stranger than anything ever recorded! All my findings are in my research journals..." He pointed toward journal number one resting on the table in front of me.

Pursing my lips, I hesitantly opened it again and began to flip through it.

I forced myself to open my mind, no matter how ridiculous such things sounded. But then again, I was a girl who appeared out of seemingly nowhere with no recollection of over a decade of my life.

Should I really be so quick to snub such odd things?

Eye-bats? Shapeshifters? Wendigos? Gnomes? ALIENS?!

"Say I believe you, what do you need me here for?" I asked him.

Stanford shrugged. "Oh, I don't! When I put my name down for the program a few months back, your university kind of strong-armed me into signing up... also I thought it might be good to give a student such an opportunity!" He explained, running his hands through his fluffy brown locks.

"Really know how to make a girl feel special..." I snarked and Stanford raised a brow.

"Quite the attitude on you..." He clicked his tongue. "Reminds me of someone I used to know..." He sighed and I got the feeling he was referring to his twin brother that I saw in the photos.

I was always good at reading people.

"Stanford, there's no way this is real..." I finally sighed, closing the journal.

Mentally, I was kicking myself for ever doing this. Now I was going to get behind considering it was too late to sign up for normal classes this semester.

The man looked at me blankly from behind his bespectacled glasses. I suddenly got the sensation that it was not just Stanford watching me, but seeing as there was nobody else present I wrote it off as the oddities of this scientist and his cabin in the woods.

Finally, he sighed, shoulders slouching.

"Come with me..." He said firmly, moving over and yanking me up by the arm.

I yelped at his forcefulness, though he did not grab me hard enough to harm me. It was just enough to jolt me.

"Dr. Pines—!" I gasped as I followed after him, his six-fingered grasp still holding onto my arm tightly.

The scientist stood just over six feet tall: I was not a short woman but I was definitely not tall either. He loomed over me by a good few inches and was stronger than me.

He dragged me through the cabin, back to the first room by the front door—the one that looked as if his lab was leaking into it. Except, he turned and started taking me to the dark staircase that led downward.

As we got closer, I managed to get out of his grasp and shot away from him, staring at him hesitantly.

The scientist sighed and motioned to the staircase with his head.

"You wanted proof, didn't you? Well, the proof is down in my lab... you have a choice, Chuckie. You can go back upstairs, grab your bags, and leave now... or you can follow me..."

The smart choice would be to take option one. After all, this guy could very well be crazy and might be luring me into a trap. Then again, there was something about the spark in his tired brown eyes that drew me in.

My shoulders slumped and I sighed, but slowly, my feet worked to drag me forward.

"You better not make me regret this, Stanford..." I walked toward him.

Dr. Stanford Pines smiled happily, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into a gentle side hug before releasing me.

"I don't think anyone could ever regret seeing what you're about to see!" He said firmly, motioning me to follow as he shuffled down the dark staircase, brown trenchcoat flapping behind him.

I followed.

The staircase seemed to lead down into a pit of darkness, only illuminated when Standofrd suddenly turned on a dim light that flickered overhead. It revealed a long hallway that led to a makeshift elevator lift.

Jesus fucking Christ I'm going to die.

"Is this elevator up to code?" I snarked as we got on—him quite literally needing to open the door for me and using a crank to send us down.

"Eh—mostly..." He shrugged, and despite the scowl on my face I could not help but internally snicker at his answer.

The ride down was not long but took far longer than any elevator that was 'up to code' should have. And finally, he did his last wind for the crank before he opened the door.

Chaos greeted me—chaos in the form of science. The lab was huge: it was obvious that self-made extensions had been made to the basement as some of the walls were nothing more than dirt.

I wondered if that was also considered 'up to code'.

There was different junk and experiments that I could not even begin to imagine the purposes of lying around. Papers of all sorts were scattered, some even pinned to the walls.

Stanford suddenly walked past me, motioning for me to follow behind.

"This is my lab," He explained.

I nodded. "Yep—getting that..." I trailed off, pausing to look at a butterfly trapped in a jar.

It was placed on a shelf. At first, I thought it was just a normal butterfly—until it suddenly zapped out of existence and reappeared in the jar a second later.

My eyes widened at the display of teleportation, disbelief unfurling in my chest.

"Experiment 71—I found it in the forest a year or two ago. For some reason, it can't teleport through glass. Be careful, it eats human flesh..."

That caused a shiver to run down my spine. I turned my attention away from the killer-teleporting-butterfly and followed after Stanford.

A large desk with multiple square monitors was sat against the wall near the edge of the laboratory. Right away, I noticed a large blueprint sheet that went the entire length of the desk.

I was barely able to read that it was for some machine before Stanford was folding the large document up and putting it away. He looked rather suspicious upon doing it, shooting me a nervous look.

"And what was that?"

He answered smoothly. "Something that is none of your concern..."

I rolled my eyes at that, immediately falling onto his rolling chair and making myself at home. "Fine I believe you—but whaddya want me to do for you as an assistant this semester?" I questioned, unable to stop myself from grabbing a cool-looking pen and playing with it.

Stanford got an irritated expression and quickly took the pen away from me.

"First of all—never touch anything down here without my permission... other than the fact that it isn't yours, most of it is dangerous!"

"How can a pen be dangerous?" I deadpanned, crossing my arms over my chest.

Stanford gave me a blank expression before swiftly pointing the pen at a trashcan in the corner. He clicked the top of it twice before a laser shot out and incinerated the trash in the garbage.

I stumbled over my words, my expression forming into one of absolute shock.

Because what actual fuck?

My mouth moved to form words, but nothing coherent came out. Stanford looked proud at my expression, moving till he was in front of me and towered over my sitting form. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared down his nose at me with a smug expression.

"Laser pen—activated by two pushes of the clicker... invented by yours truly..." He said in a knowing tone, leaning his torso down so he was closer to my face.

His breath smelled of coffee and his hair was almost wolfish in the way that it was fluffy.

However, now I understand how talented of a scientist he was. Not just skilled in one area—he was clearly a magician of an engineer seeing as he invented a laser pen!

At that moment, I was humbled in more ways than one—and humbled for the first time in a long time. Because—holy fuck—I am studying under the best of the best. I am studying under what I thought to be the impossible.

"Okay," I breathed with a smile lighting up my features and disbelief in my voice. "I get it, you're the master—"

"—And you are my student." Stanford finished for me, immediately catching onto my 'Star Wars' reference.

He stared at me for a second longer, big brown eyes locked onto my own before he straightened out his torso and stood up.

"For the next few days, I expect you to read through the first and second editions of my research journals... familiarize yourself with the strangeness of Gravity Falls from the safety of pages before you start accompanying me into the forests, from there you'll learn..." He explained.

"Hai sensei..." I said playfully and I swore that there was the slightest of Stanford's mouth.

Despite this, he turned around with his hands folded behind his back almost formally.

"Now come my pupil, let me show you around my laboratory!"

With that, I was standing and following around Stanford for the next few hours—listening intently as he explained many of the intricacies and things lurking within his lab. Despite this, he never once touched nor alluded to the folded blueprints sitting at the corner of his desk.

Even stranger—the entire time I had the crawling sensation that we were being watched.