Rain poured down in buckets, coating the shack's dark roof in water. Thunder could be heard from all over the town, lightning cascading through the sky with fever. Though the rain was continuing to beat against the roofs, doors, and ground, the temperature was excruciating. People sat inside their homes, both chilled and sweaty, from the heat and cold clashing together with roars of thunder. Trees were being blown over in a frenzy, shingles being ripped from the safety of the houses.
But, inside The Mystery Shack's attic, sat twelve-year-old Dipper and Mabel Pines, one knitting, one reading. They had fought great bests in worse weather, so the storm raging around them barely phased the twins, although their uncles were both acting completely contradictory towards the pair of children. Great Uncle Ford, was panicked at the unnaturally high levels of Emf he was picking up, and Stan was irritated tat the fact that the letters were, once again, falling from the Shack's sign. And this, readers, is where our story begins...
Mabel Pines groaned as she dropped her pink knitting needle again, watching as it rolled beside her brother, whom was sitting cross-legged on the floor by her bed. Dipper, meanwhile, was too engrossed in his book to pay attention, as he blindly reached out a had to pick her needle up, eyes staying glued to his journal. His hand landed in every place but where the needle was, although he was too preoccupied to really care at the moment.
"Ugh, Dipper!" Mabel groaned, reaching down with an "oomph" to pick up her needle. She then proceeded to smack her brother on the head with it, causing him to drop the book in shock and gasp. "Mabel!" He yelled irritably, reaching over to retrieve his journal. Mabel just rolled her eyes, huffing. "I require attention to be paid to me right now, bro-bro!" She flopped onto her back, staring up at the ceiling with a bored and tired expression on her small face.
Dipper just grumbled something about "The impending apocalypse", and continued reading to which Mabel scoffed. "Dude, you haven't slept in 2 days! Just look at yourself, you're exhausted!
Mabel began to look more concerned then irritable, and Dipper finally sighed and looked at her, not being able to stand that sad voice or look. He faked a smile, trying to comfort her, although he new that he was failing. He was so tired, one thought he might be sickly.
"Whatever, Dip-" She stopped dead, staring ahead at the opposite wall, fear in twinkling in her green irises. Dipper immediately whipped his head to see what she was so worked up about, when he too saw the large oak door on the wall. They shared a look, and both nodded in silent agreement. The stood up, and gripped eachother's hands tightly.
When they reached the door, Dipper looked back at Mabel, and gently put his ear against the wood. It was surprisingly warm, like bathwater, or maybe more like the humid air around them? There were sounds coming from behind the door, sounds likes hums, buzzes, and a deep voice, although their words were too muffled to hear. Dipper backed away from the door a bit, letting Mabel listen for herself.
"Whoa.." She whispered, eyes wide, mouth agape. Dipper turned his head towards their bedroom door, biting his lip. "Maybe we should go get Great Uncle Ford.." He mumbled, before Mabel gripped his forearm, eyes stern and set. "No, we can handle this ourselves.."She said, beginning to feel like it was a lie. "After all we're the mystery twins, right?" She asked hopefully, offering her brother a smile. Dipper was hesitant, but closed his eyes and firmly nodded. "Right." He sucked in a breath, letting his trembling hand slowly reach up and grasp the warm door handle. He and Mabel nodded one last time, before creaking the old oak door open slowly...