Chapter Text
“I think… this might be a bad idea.” Wendy says, slowly, and takes a few steps backwards, towards the opened double doors, back into the night air.
Dipper turns to look at her, blinks. Weird for his friend. Usually she’s more confident. “Why’s that?”
Shifting around in place, Wendy looks around the foyer, and almost steps back over the threshold. “This place is…” She sucks in a breath, closing her eyes, and tucks her arms around herself. “Really, really creepy.”
Also weird. “What’s the problem?” Dipper takes another look around.
Sure, fine, they broke in. It’s a little illegal. But this place isn’t scary. Of all the supposedly ‘haunted’ houses Dipper’s investigated, this one has to be by far the least creepy.
The old Cipher mansion is huge, and elaborate, filled with elegant furniture older than Dipper several times over. It’s one of the biggest places in the area, and it’s been empty for decades.
But one of the previous residents put up a trust to keep it maintained, and updated. It’s not broken down, or dark. There’s still power, water, reasonably modern lighting. It’s clean, if a bit dusty. It’s been kept up by a series of caretakers for decades, though apparently it’s run through more than its fair share of them.
Nobody’s bought this place, or sold it. They get freaked out, for some reason. Everyone says it’s haunted, sure, but there’s been no supernatural phenomena. No weird events. It’s just this old, rich house that nobody’s found a use for, that someone wanted to keep up.
Dipper wouldn’t have bothered breaking in with his friend, it doesn’t seem like there’s actually a ghost - but this building chases people off like anything. Last he checked, the last person hired to keep up the place quit, shaking - even traumatized - within a week.
Nobody sticks around the Cipher place, ever, and Dipper’s not sure why. It’s worth a look, even if there is no haunting.
He looks around, takes a deep breath - it smells like an old, dusty house, not like blood, or decay. There’s nothing weird, it’s bright as hell with the chandelier above lit up, everything here is fancy and sort-of clean-
He sighs. This doesn’t seem too promising, as far as the supernatural goes. It doesn’t look like anything’s here. It almost seems as if someone still lives here.
“Dipper?” Wendy says, sudden. She meets his eyes, looking worried. “This place is really bad.”
Dipper takes a few steps towards her, and shuffles his feet on the carpet. Dusty, like everything. But nothing seems off about this place, besides it being empty. “What’s wrong with it?”
Wendy turns her head around, pacing around in a semicircle, half of it being out the doorway. Staring into this house, like she expects an attack. “It’s got these vibes,” Taking a second, she frowns, tensing up. “Like… I feel like staying here might be a bad idea.”
Dipper… feels nothing.
He takes another look around, maybe there’s something here he hasn’t spotted, that’d scare people…
This building is massive. Two huge double doors make the entrance, the walls are hung with paintings, the doorways are elaborate woodwork, yellow walls - been recently repainted? It looks so bright - It’s all rich and classy, nothing weird. Nothing even remotely scary. And there’s a lot of area to cover.
“Right, we’ll split up-” says Dipper.
“Wait,” Wendy interrupts, holding out a hand. “Wait. Isn’t that what people do in horror movies?” She does stride back into the mansion from the entryway, standing next to Dipper. “You know, right before someone dies?”
Dipper snorts, and shrugs. “C’mon, nothing’s going to happen. As long as we’re here, we might as well check things out.”
He and Wendy are standing on a wide black carpet that reaches from the front door to a sloping stairway, leading to the second story. Big chandelier overhead, lighting things up - a couple of small tables with lamps, a few wide benches and chairs, doors leading elsewhere - it’s surprisingly well-kept, not dilapidated or anything.
He just doesn’t get it. What’s so wrong about this house?
It’s fully furnished, it’s in good shape - hell, some of those paintings are probably really valuable. Dipper knows it’s been put up for sale before, he did his research… but for some reason, that happened only twice. And it never went anywhere. It’s been kept up by the old Cipher name, and the even older Cipher fortune, for a very, very long time. And nobody’s questioned it.
This place is weird.
“I’m heading upstairs, you can look down here.” He says, and starts tromping up the stairs to the second floor.
Behind him, he hears Wendy make an uncomfortable noise - He stops near the top step, turning to look at her. Now she’s standing at the foot of the stairs. And looking really, really nervous.
Wendy’s never this uncomfortable. She’s kicked more than a few people’s butts. This house has to have something dangerous in it, or she’d never look like that. It makes Dipper a little worried by proxy.
He shifts around a little, and asks. “Seriously, what’s the problem?”
Wendy tucks up the sleeves of her flannel shirt, frowning, sterning herself. “It feels like…” She grimaces, clenches a fist. “Ugh, I need to punch something,” At least now she sounds angry, instead of scared. She glances around again, then nods. “I’ll look around, but if I find any ghosts around here - we’re out,” She jerks a thumb at the doorway behind her. “This place sucks.”
Dipper still has no idea what she’s talking about, this is just an empty house - but he nods back. “Sure!” And really -
He pauses for a moment, as Wendy turns and heads towards one of the hallways, and cups his hands around his mouth, shouting so he’s sure she’ll hear. “But hey! Let me know if you see one!”
Smiling, she gives him a thumbs-up - and takes in a deep, steadying breath before she opens up one of the doors to a hallway, off from the main room.
When she walks in, she’s tight with tension, tapping her own flashlight against her other hand, like she could use it as a weapon.
Dipper watches in confusion.
Something about this mansion makes people want to get away from it, fast. All the people hired to go into it. The people who might want to buy it. Everything about this place seems to scare people. Including Wendy, who’s kind of badass. Maybe it’s not a ghost, but there’s got to be something strange here.
He straightens up, and heads forward. The hallway’s dark, so he brings out his flashlight, not wanting to fumble around for any lightswitches. This place has been modernized, a little, but that was a long time ago, and he’s pretty sure they didn’t get everything.
Casting the light around shows him doorways, and dust, making the light in front of him dotted with tiny specks of white. It’s been maintained, and cleaned, but nobody’s really put in the effort to make it seem like someone’s still here. Dust is everywhere, clearly nobody ever vacuums. Maybe there isn’t even one in here.
Dipper looks over the large oak doors as he wanders - There’s dozens of them. This place is huge. All of these lead off into more corridors, and other rooms- This one catches his attention.
He’s finally hit the end of this absurdly long hallway. A large door, intricately carved, almost as large as the entryway - he lifts his light, sees the sign.
It’s the library.
Dipper listens carefully - he looks around, thinking - but the whole place is silent and empty.
Well, there’s no harm in taking a quick look. Won’t get too wrapped up in reading, he’s sure, and basically nobody comes here, so even if he does? It’ll be fine. It’s not like anybody’s going to catch him, and Wendy could eventually track him down, when she gets bored.
Dipper pushes the door open, looking around - his flashlight shows him a metric ton of bookshelves - he grins.
He feels around next to the doorway, doesn’t find anything. Turning his flashlight around, he finds the lightswitch a few meters away, and flips it.
The whole place lights up, lamps around still functioning, revealing the whole room and -
Holy crap!
Dipper walks further into the room, admiring it. It must be nice to have a lot of money, because it can get you all the stuff you’ve ever wanted, and someone here really wanted an excellent library, at some point.
There’s so many books!
And there are plush, overstuffed armchairs, covered with dust sheets to protect them from aging, set in an array of circles, like they’re for discussion. This place is just as massive as the rest of this mansion - maybe it’s even one of the bigger rooms in this entire place! A few couches rest between the bookshelves. Everything’s of it’s packed between two huge walls, stacked with shelves, covered with literature.
This is one hell of a collection of works. Considering how old this place is, a lot of these things aren’t even going to be on the internet -
“Huh.” It’s a soft, curious word.
There’s a sound like cloth moving in a sharp wave through the air.
Dipper straightens up. He feels himself tense.
Shit.
There’s someone else here.
He turns, slowly, clicking his flashlight off - the library is brightly lit now, he doesn’t need it- and once he's turned, he… stares.
There’s a man.
A tall man, in a suit. Lounging, lazily, in one of the armchairs - the dust sheet that was there is gone, it’s been cast aside and lies there, rumpled, next to the chair. Whoever this is must have tossed it away before taking a seat.
Now, he’s looking at Dipper with a bored, tired expression.
“So what are you doing here?” asks the stranger. He stretches in his seat, then sets an elbow down on one of the arms, resting his cheek on his fist.
Dipper stares, a little confused, a little - finally - scared, like everyone else seems to feel when they get into this place.
He doesn’t know what to say.
He broke into this mansion, he’s not supposed to be here, and now he’s been caught. He’s going to get into some trouble. Unless he can talk his way out of it. It’s not like anyone lives here, he’s not bothering anyone, sort of, but he’s… a little screwed. And.
Dipper glances around - he only sees the one doorway, and that’s the one he just came through, he would have seen someone else following him.
Where did this person come from?
“I wonder what I’m going to do with you,” says the stranger - Dipper turns his gaze back to him - the man’s kicked his legs up over the opposite side of the chair, and he’s tucked his arms behind his head, frowning. “Gotta be some neat way to really mess with this guy.”
Dipper shifts around a bit.
“Look,” He says, almost blurting it out. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave, I just thought-” He doesn’t know how to continue.
Weirdly, the man doesn’t respond. He turns to watch Dipper for a brief moment, then sits upright. He tilts forward in his place to look at the doorway. He pauses. And frowns, looking confused.
Then he looks around the room, and - it’s weird, he’s searching for something, and every second he doesn’t find it, he looks more frustrated. After a few moments, he gets up from his seat, and sets his hands on his hips.
“Huh,” The man says, again. This time, he sounds annoyed. His fingers tap against his thigh. “Looks like it’s a crazy one.”
This is really, really weird. Dipper…doesn’t want to get arrested, he should probably escape while he has the chance, but… this is interesting. “A crazy what?”
“Makes sense. Can’t be too sane, if he made it this far,” The guy mutters. He’s still watching the doorway. For some reason he’s not paying attention to Dipper, even though he’s finally spoken. “The aura of sheer terror usually scares ‘em off before that.”
“Sheer terror?” Dipper feels nothing, but if something like that exists, it would definitely explain a lot. He starts walking towards this stranger. If he knows something, if there’s actually a supernatural thing going on, he wants to know about it. “I don’t feel any aura.”
Whoever this is - whatever they’re doing here - the stranger tenses up. His hands drop to his sides.
When he turns, very, very slowly, to look at Dipper, it’s with a wide-eyed expression of... almost shock.
He looks at Dipper with clear, intense surprise. His hands reach up, then drop, then- he claps one to his face, looking immensely confused.
Dipper watches him for a second - smiles, weakly - and squirms, sort of uncomfortable - “Look, I know I’m not supposed to be here, but -” He hesitates, and - it’s really weird, but the stranger starts walking away, facing him the whole time, and staring at him, intense.
The guy walks around Dipper in a half-circle. Dipper keeps his gaze on him, because everything about this person’s behavior is really weird, and he’s dressed like something from almost a century ago, and he has no goddamned idea how he got in this room. Is this one of those caretakers? Who else would be here? And why hasn’t this person kicked him out yet?
It takes a long, long moment. But finally, the man - he takes a second, again, mouth working - then asks.
“Who is this?”
Whoever this person is, they’re… not distressed that Dipper’s here, but they’re definitely upset about something.
Dipper clears his throat, shuffling in place. “Uh - My name’s Dipper. Sorry, I really know I’m not supposed to-” Really shouldn’t have broken in, maybe he shouldn’t have even told this person his name.
But almost the instant Dipper starts saying something, the stranger storms forward. He stands just a pace away from Dipper, and his gaze draws over him.
“You’re talking to me.” He states. His tone is flat, and... this is the most focused look Dipper's ever been subjected to.
“Who else would I be talking to?” Dipper leans away, swallowing dryly. Something weird's going on, and this man is... a little creepy. “There’s nobody else here.” This man gets right up close. Standing within inches of him, and he still looks incredibly intense, it kind of makes Dipper cringe.
And when he suddenly snaps his fingers in front of Dipper’s face, unexpected, it makes him flinch back in surprise. For some reason, that means this person - he’s kind of a jerk, Dipper takes a few steps away -
This guy starts to grin. Very, very wide. And pleased.
“Hello there,” The stranger says, slowly. He steps even closer -
Dipper backs away, and that makes this person even happier for some reason- Dipper keeps backing up, and falls into the uncovered armchair, plopping into the seat. In front of him, this dapperly dressed guy grins, arms tucked behind his back, leaning towards him and looking about as delighted as anyone Dipper’s ever seen.
“Bill Cipher,” says - Bill, apparently - “I own this place,” And, amazingly, he gives a little bow. “Pleasure to meet you.”