Phantom Falls

12: Dread

The above artwork does not belong to me. Let me tell you, though, I was so happy when I found it! I'd already written the chapter and this art was PERFECT. I just made the butterflies green and added a glow to them.

"Danny!" Mabel squealed as he made his way into the shack. The boy looked exhausted, both physically and mentally.

He smiled tightly. "Hey, guys," he rasped. Mabel and Soos were covering themselves in sequins, while Wendy egged them on.

The three of them stopped talking when Pacifica walked in. She shuffled her feet uncomfortably.

Dipper entered a few seconds later, his nose buried in the first journal. "Hey, guys, I just found-"
He stopped and looked between Danny and Pacifica.

His eyes got a little harder. "Um, what's going on?"

Danny rubbed his neck, nearly dropping a crutch in the process. "Well, I, uh, sort of made peace with Pacifica after- after I got lost. She really isn't so bad. This morning she made me breakfast, so I decided to take her here. Maybe we can all . . . hang out?"

He sounded so hopeful. Mabel grinned at them and shouted, "Yes! I knew you would come around sometime, Pacifica."

Dipper was totally suprised. Pacifica had made Danny breakfast? Then again, she had let the townsfolk in her mansion on the night of the party. Maybe she really was changing for the better.

The three kids and Wendy decided to hang out at the shack, as Danny couldn't do much walking with his injuries. They sat on the beds in Dipper and Mabel's room, talking.

"So, uh, Danny," Pacifica was saying, trying to start a conversation. "What exactly happened in the forest?"

The Pine boy's interest was piqued. "Yeah, man, tell us."

Just as Dipper had expected, Danny's entire demeanor changed. He shifted his weight nervously. "Well, there's not much to tell. I went hiking, and I got lost. End of story."

Wendy laughed a little. "Dude, how did you get lost so close to town? You were, like, two miles away. Plus, your phone was with you, right?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Sprained the ankle, remember? Couldn't move around. And my phone died."

Everyone knew that wasn't the whole story, of course. But if Danny wasn't spilling, what could they do? None of them could fault his excuse, as it would be reasonable if they didn't know better. And the four of them weren't about voice their suspicions.

He sensed their unease and tried to smile. "Anyway . . . Let's do something fun. Any suggestions?"

Just then, he got a text. Immediately his features contorted to accommodate a look of horror.

"What's wrong?" Mabel asked with concern.

Danny just shook his head. "That was Jazz. I guess my parents decided to call a ghost hunt."

Contrary to the older boy, Dipper grinned in excitement. "Yes! Maybe I can figure out who this Phantom is!"

The raven-haired boy sighed. "No, Dipper, you don't get it. They somehow think that a ghost was involved in my disappearance. And now they're going to bust out the stupid weapons and try to shoot holes in everything that moves. Typical."

Mabel had to explain to Pacifica who Phantom was, but Dipper was glad to hear that she only mentioned the part about the dog. Meanwhile, Danny was texting his sister frantically, trying to figure things out.

"They won't want me to come, being injured and all, but they'll probably invite you. If you leave, just make sure to keep them in line, okay? No shooting down the ones that are minding their own business."

Wendy leaned back against the wall. "This is happening now?"

"Well, yeah."

How could Danny be so calm about ghost hunting? Dipper went looking for monsters all the time, but he still got excited about it. Yet Danny looked strained and even bored at the idea of more supernatural occurrences.

That in itself was almost as weird as the ghosts.

* * *

Mabel's hands gripped her sweater sleeves as she trekked through the woods.

She, Dipper, Pacifica and Wendy had joined the Fentons on their ghost hunt. They were the only ones who had gone, and already the kids, including Jazz, were feeling nervous.

Jack's weird detector thing beeped. "An ectoplasmic signature!" he grinned with excitement. He tiptoed up to a fallen tree, moving with surprising stealth for a man so large.

Dipper gripped Mabel's arm. "What do you think it is?"

Pacifica was hugging herself. "Don't . . . don't touch it Uncle Jack."

He just put a finger to his lips and peered over the log. Maddie came up beside him. Their eyes were practically popping out of their heads.

Out of nowhere, Maddie whipped out a bug-catching net. She held up three fingers and counted down sliently.

Three . . . she motioned.

Two . . . Jack gripped a small ectoplasmic gun.

One.

Mr. Fenton shot his gun, and green somethings scattered into the air all around them. Maddie waved her net around, trying to catch them.

Mabel stood frozen as she saw what they were. Butterflies.

Dozens of delicate, fluttering butterflies, wreathed in lime-colored light. Mabel caught her breath, reaching out her finger to touch one. It brushed against her hand, its wings soft and cold.

"They- they're beautiful," Pacifica whispered. She blinked in suprise. "But . . . aren't they ghosts?"

Jack was still swatting at them. "Yep! Let's catch one!"

Mabel was horrified. "No!" He looked at her in suprise.

"Why not?"

Dipper came to the rescue. "Mr. Fenton, sir, these can't have hurt Danny. They're too . . ." For once, he couldn't find the words. There weren't any fit to describe them, except maybe ethereal.

Maddie agreed, telling her husband that there was no way these little splashes of color had harmed their son.

"I bet they died in the frost," Jazz murmured. "They're so cold."

Mabel had forgotten that they were dead at all. She hadn't realized how peaceful deceased creatures could be, or even that butterflies could have ghosts at all.

Suddenly, the glowing butterflies disappeared, and so did the cold breeze. The lighting returned to normal, and the feeling of reverence holding everyone in place began to fade. They were gone.

It was as if something had scared them off. Mabel didn't want them to go. They made her feel so calm, so full of wonder. Seeing those butterflies was worth every time she'd fought some monster, because they were worth protecting.

In the trees ahead of them, something growled. Mabel's blood ran cold. Dread began to sink into her stomach like a ball of ice. Everything inside of her coiled with anticipation. She wanted to run. She wanted to run far, far away and never stop, because whatever was in the shadows would kill her if she did.

Dipper's hand clenched around her arm. Whatever it was was watching them. "Mabel," Dipper murmured, so quietly that she could hardly hear, "this doesn't feel like a monster. This feels . . . evil."

The twin couldn't agree more, but none of that mattered now. It had its eyes fixed on her, blood-red and colder than frozen steel.

She had no doubt. It was coming to get her.