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haddonfieldproject · 3 years

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<<PREVIOUS⏺<<CONTENTS>>

1.3.12 SATURDAY NOVEMBER 1st 12:40 PM

Warren County, Illinois

Officer Swain pulled the hood of his rain slicker over his head and resumed motioning the tow-truck toward him. The rain had not returned thankfully, but the temperature continued to drop and Swain could feel the thin skin on his ears growing frigid. Yesterday felt like summer, now it's 'Hello Fall'. He thought.

Larry Danielson backed his tow-truck, containing the charred and twisted remains of an ambulance into the tight spot that Swain had designated for it. This was the same ill-fated ambulance that had met a fiery end with the trailer of Gabriel Couture's semi. For the time being it would rest silently between the blood stained remains of an orange Ford Mustang that had once belonged to Brad Doyle and an equally blood-stained carcass of Booger McFarlane's white truck.

Larry D., as the townsfolk called him, hopped from the cab, grabbed the levers of the wench, and began rocking the hulk of the wreck off the rollback and toward the weedy ground littered with bits of rubber, glass, and plastic. Swain looked around. He had never seen the police salvage lot look so full.

Larry D whistled. “Man I ain't worked this hard since Brackett sent me to go work that big pile up on I-90, remember that?”

Swain wasn't really listening, he pointed to a strip of gravel at the far end of the lot near two large green dumpsters. “You think there's enough room for that tractor trailer?”

Larry D spit a muddy brown wad of chewing tobacco on the ground and nodded, “Probably,” he said, “then it's 'all she wrote' right?”

Swain rubbed his forehead, “Well, that Agent McGrath says we need to impound all the cars that belonged to victims whether they were involved in the crime scenes or not. But Meeker said we can just use the High School parking lot for sure.”

Larry D spit again, “Well, all I know is I gotta get some lunch after we tow the tractor trailer back here.”

“Fair enough,” Swain said and sat down in his cruiser and shut the door. Larry D turned toward his tow-truck and, as he did, nearly ran into a woman.

“Whoa!” Larry said, rocking back on his heels.

The woman gave a small startled scream. She was short, Asian, and very attractive, with long black hair but cute little bangs to frame her round face. Her dark slanted eyes glistened as she smiled. “Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you.”

“That's okay ma'am. Can I help you with something?” Larry asked, adjusting his belt.

“Yes,” the woman pulled a small wallet out of her gray pantsuit and displayed a laminated badge. “I'm Samantha Nguyen of the Federal Bureau of Investigation office in Champagne. I spoke to Deputy---Miller?”

“Meeker?” Larry glanced at the badge with a smile and looked up and passed Sam, waving to Officer Swain as he pulled his police cruiser out of the gravel lot.

“Meeker, that's right,” Nguyen replaced the wallet in her pocket, “he told me I could find you here, you are Larry D correct?”

“In the flesh,” Larry replied and offered his hand.

She shook it with a smile, “Oh good. I'm in the right place.”

“Yes ma'am. What can I help you with.”

This time she pulled a folded piece of paper out of her other pocket, “I'm looking for a trailer that was towed here yesterday morning, around six-ish?”

“The one we pulled from the truck stop? The one that belonged to that guy who got...you know.” Larry trailed off.

“Yep. Star Transport trailer with Nebraska plates, tag number UVB760” She nodded.

“Walk this way,” Larry said.

They began walking toward the far end of the lot, passing Brad Doyle's mustang and a yellow and black Taxi cab with LITTLE EGYPT CABBIE CO painted on the side with a nice drawing of a Sphinx. CALL 999-9999, FIRST MILE FREE.

“What do you want with the trailer?” Larry asked.

“We're gonna pop it open.” Nguyen remarked.

Larry stopped, “You gotta have a warrant to pop the seal on a commerical trailer.”

She handed him the paper, “Right here.”

“And you spoke to the distributor...whatever you said... Star Transport?”

“Yes sir.”

They arrived at the rear of the trailer. Nguyen pulled out her cellphone and snapped a picture of the tag and then another of the unbroken seal. She put her finger through the blue plastic loop and then cut a glance back at Larry. Larry had been admiring the young woman's figure as her back was turned and now abruptly adverted his eyes. She pretended not to notice.

“Got a knife?” She asked.

Larry pulled a pocket knife from his dirty Wranglers and flicked it open. Nguyen stepped aside for a moment and Larry D slit the little plastic band in one neat surgical swipe. Larry folded his knife and replaced it in his pocket and then popped the handle of the trailer up with the palm of his hand and pulled open the door.

The first thing that hit them was the smell.

Shit and vomit...maybe a little sweat.

There were two rickety looking benches, one on each side of the trailer running the length of it's walls. Upon these benches, fifteen to each side, was an assortment of female human beings. Some looked to be as old as fifty, some maybe as young as twelve. Sweat glistened on their skin, their eyes were tired, their faces haggard, their clothes stained with sweat and dirty. They all simultaneously squinted as the light of day hit their faces and then, as their eyes adjusted, they looked at Larry D and Nguyen with empty expressions. Most looked of hispanic descent, there was one black woman who looked about thirty years old, and two young Asain girls, no more than seventeen.

Down the center of the trailer, between the benches were two rows of air mattresses with some assorted blankets and pillows. Between the mattresses were six or seven large white buckets, the kind that commercial painters use for paint. Flies buzzed around these buckets and Larry knew immediately this was the source of the smell. These ladies had been forced to use these buckets as a toilet during their ordeal in the back of this trailer. Littered among these items were rolls of cheap toilet paper and plastic gallon jugs of drinking water. Most were empty.

“Holy shit,” Larry breathed.

Nguyen snapped a picture.

NEXT>>

#halloween #halloween franchise #michael myers #horror #haddonfield #horror writing #horror film #fan fiction #fan writing #spooky #halloween kills

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artist-in-an-ugly-sweater · 4 years

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So- people seem to be curious about what happened prior to the drawing I made of gar grunkle Stan and sphynx Ford, thus I decided to try some writing? Just a short to explain what is going on. If it gets too long and boring for anyone who's curious about the story to that picture can simply scroll down all the way. I'll put a summary there so I don't spoil anything to someone who'd like to read through this.

Now, without any further ado, let us begin!

Stone cold treatment

a "short" monsterfalls story

Stone. One of the thing a living creature would never like to be. Alive, but not really, trapped underneath a shell of stone. Able to hear, able to feel everything, yet unable to do anything about what you heard or felt. That was how he'd been feeling ever since the first time he turned to stone. It was natural for a gargoyle like himself, thus one would think he is be able to control it, right? But he was not. Ever since he turned into a gargoyle, Stanley Pines simply couldn't control this new ability of his; the ability of turning to stone. The first time it happened, it was a brand new, terrifying experience, and it was honestly no different each time it happened without his control. This one time, however, it was a bazillion times worse.

His nephew Dipper and worker Wendy were hanging out in the back yard of the Shack when it happened. He was sitting there on the porch by his niece, Mabel, who was basking in her small pool, cheering for her brother and Wendy. The two of them had been having a hard time adjusting to their new forms, too, but honestly, who hadn't? Dipper had trouble walking, thus he required quite the bit of practice. It took him a while to even make it to the back yard. Luckily, he had his family and friends to help him out once he quit his "I can do it on my own" phase of his walks. That was partially why Wendy was there. She was helping him walk, watching over the cervitaur and his attempts to get a hang of walking on fours. It was for her own benefit, too. Wendy was a werewolf and ever since her transformation had trouble handling herself when it came to wildlife. She'd been struggling with pouncing and attacking things that seemed huntable, making it especially hard to keep it cool around Dipper who was half deer.

She honestly wanted to stop seeing Dipper and giving up her job at the Shack just to keep him safe. She would've done it if it wasn't for Grunkle Stan, who encouraged her and convinced her to try and get a hold of her new wild tendencies. He promised to provide supervision over the two in case something went wrong, but fortunately, everything had been going smoothly. Soon enough, Dipper's slow trots turned into faster paces back and forth with Wendy by his side. “You're doing great, deer brother!” Mabel cheered, giggling over her own joke. Wendy gave a light laugh whilst Dipper's cheeks flushed a tint of red as he yelled back: “Not funny when you say it all the time, Mabel!” “Come 'ere you dork! ” Wendy laughed as she ruffled the cervitaur's hair, receiving quite the nervous laugh in response from the now bright red boy. Stan gave a light chuckle himself. Everyone was having fun. There was nothing to worry about, he thought. For once after this huge change in his and everyone's lives, Stan felt at peace. He felt like he could rest without things turning against him. Close his eyes and...relax. And so he did. Stan let his eyes close, leaning back into the backrest of the scruffy couch on the porch gently, minding his wings as he didn't lean in completely.

The next thing he knew, however, he heard a yell. His niece was yelling for help. “Grunkle Stan!! Grunkle Stan, do something!!” she cried, but to no avail. Her great uncle Stan gave no response, simply resting upon the cushions of the couch without a single twitch despite what was going on. Despite the loud snarling, growling and yelling of both his niece and nephew who begged for help. It was happening again. His eyes wouldn't open, his arms and legs wouldn't listen, but he could hear it. He could hear it all. The terror in Dipper's voice as he yelled “Wendy stop! P-please!!”; the dismay in Mabel's voice as she begged for her grunkle to do something- anything! Mabel herself couldn't do much. She was a mermaid and she couldn't leave her pool just like that. It were times like these that she wished she'd turned into something alike to Dipper, with an extra pair of legs instead of none. Stan began to panic. He couldn't see, say or do anything despite how much he tried to. The stony shell he'd formed once he relaxed his body held him prisoner, making him listen helplessly as his nephew was chased about, getting hurt- or worse. It was alike to a nightmare in which you couldn't do anything to save the day, only watch as your loved ones were taken away. Or in Stan's case, listen.

It wasn't till he heard the door fly open by his side and his niece cry out his brother's name that a brief wave of relief washed over him. “Grunkle Ford!!” Mabel called as her great uncle Ford rushed out of the house, ready to tackle whatever danger his grandniece and nephew stood against. A roar from the Sphinx, cries and whining followed and then – silence. Everything went silent. Was it over? Was everyone alright?

Stan felt his panic ease up along with the stone keeping him in place. Hearing it crackle, he didn't hesitate another second and broke free, lunging forth. He caught his balance and stepped out towards what he assumed was his nephew, brother and Wendy, his vision blurry at first. He could see it all clearly within a moment's notice: his brother, standing tall with Dipper cradled in his arms, Wendy pinned under one of his feet.

“Dear Mozes! Are ya kids alright?! Dipper, are ya--” Stan exclaimed in concern as he approached almost instantly, receiving a piercing glare from his brother that made him stop in his tracks. Ford looked mad, mad at him, but for what? He didn't do anything wrong- “Stanley what were you thinking? Do you have any idea what could've- no, what would've happened if I weren't near by?? You've left the children unsupervised and you know how troublesome it is with the young Corduroy these days!” Ford yelled in his Stan's face, who simply stared down at the bloody wound on Dipper's side held by his brother in silence. “I am sorry, it wasn' intentional! I-I've been watchin' the kids, I swear! I jus'- i-it happened again and I- ya know I can't control it!” “Well then maybe you should!” “W-wha-” “Maybe you should know how to control it! Maybe you should do your best to learn to control it instead of sitting around, drinking soda and watching as your nephew gets torn to shreds!! Quit acting like a child and be the adult these children need you to be!” With that, neither of them spoke no more, only exchanged looks. A look of disappointment and anger piercing through that of defeat and guilt. Mabel watched silently as the two older twins parted their ways.

Ford made his way inside to tend to Dipper's wound while Stan took care of Wendy, then his niece, bringing her into a small preset pool in the living room. He said nothing when Mabel tried to tell him it was not his fault, because he knew better. It was his and his fault only. He offered to watch them and he failed. After bringing Mabel some snacks for the time she'd have to wait for his and her brothers' return from the bathroom, he left, not to be seen again for the rest of the day.

The shack was silent from there. Mabel was already fast asleep by the time Ford returned with his nephew bandaged up and asleep in his arms. He set the cervitaur into the armchair by Mabel's side, putting a blanket over him before he left for his room, making sure the shack was locked and secure before he himself retired to sleep.

The next day started alike to any other day. Ford went down into his study in the early morning like he always did, trying to find a way to reverse the effects of the mythical river Fluvius Cantus on himself, his family, and the whole town. It was around 10 AM that his niece called out for him upstairs. Bless his enhanced hearing on this one, for her call sounded once again like an emergency.

“I am coming!” The sphinx yelled as he rushed upstairs, only to find Mabel's call was not quite due to what he imagined. He found his niece and nephew in the living room, both awake and, inarguably, worried. The two of them were surrounded by the packets of snacks Stan had brought them yesterday, and shortly, Mabel was explaining why accordingly to Ford's questions. “What is the problem children? Did something happen? What's with all the packets?” “Grunkle Ford, Grunkle Stan hasn't shown up since yesterday!” “Yeah, we're worried.” Dipper added weakly. “He left me some snacks yesterday while I was waiting for you and Dipper and I haven't seen him since! We had to eat those for breakfast when he didn't show up to make some...” “Grunkle Stan never leaves just like that,” “Not without rambling about his 'evil' plans for the day,” “Wendy hasn't shown up, either, do you have any idea where the two of them could've gone?” Dipper asked, shooting his grunkle a worried look.

Stan was missing? He knew where the young Corduroy had gone- earlier that morning, she'd called to apologize for yesterday to which Ford advised her to take some time off and try meditation to handle her inner demons. Stan, however, had no reason to be missing. “I've told your friend Wendy to take some time off and gather herself, but I have no knowledge of my brother's whereabouts. Perhaps he'd left to commit some sort of misdeed of his, or restock for the Shack, who knows.” Ford commented, crossing his arms behind his back in thought. “Could you please look for him Grunkle Ford? Pretty please?” Mabel pleaded, holding her hands together as she puppy-eyed her great uncle. Ford was powerless against those eyes. “I suppose I could take a look around the Shack...” he murmured. “YAY! Thanks Grunkle Ford!” Mabel exclaimed, beaming. Dipper smiled lightly as the two of them watched their great uncle leave to check the shack for Stan, awaiting his return while turning on some Duck-tective to shorten their wait, although the two of them chattered about their Grunkle in worry for the main part, anyways.

Ford searched the whole interior of the shack in search for his brother. The bathroom, the attic, the bedrooms, museum, everywhere. It was when his search inside was in vein that he walked outside to look there. Fortunately for him, he could very easily look over the entire shack by taking a soar through the sky. Spreading his wings wide as he stepped out at the back of the shack, he was about to take off when he spot something with the corner of his eye. There he was. There was no mistaking the gargoyle statue settled atop the roof looming over the porch. Wheeling around, Ford looked up to his brother, closing his wings as he spoke. “You've been here this whole time? Hiding like a child? Stanley, the children are worried sick. I searched the entire shack in attempts to calm their concerns. Did you even think about that? About them?” He questioned, yet his twin gave no response. “You won't talk to me, will you? Well I don't have to bother, either. I shall tell Mabel and Dipper about your whereabouts. If you have any sort of conscience you'll come down and apologize. Don't leave the children waiting.” And once again, the older twin was on his leave, coming inside to inform his niece and nephew of Stan's safety.

Throughout the rest of the day, the twins were expecting their Grunkle intently, although to no avail. He didn't show up for the rest of the day, leaving Ford to take care of the twins on his own. The next day went down alike to the last one. No Stan, only Ford, having to drop his daily research to care for the twins. Change Dipper's bandages, check his wounds, change the water in Mabel's pool, feed the two, all that and more. He never thought his brother did so much for the kids and didn't just slack off. There were times the children asked to see their other great uncle, and so, eventually, Ford did bring the two of them outside to show them their Grunkle Stan. Nothing. Despite their attempts to call out to their Grunkle, the twins didn't get a response, either. It pained them to see their Grunkle like that, for they knew how much he disliked when he turned to stone, yet they knew that this time, it was possibly his own choice. Nonetheless, though, they couldn't help but ask a few questions. “Is this permanent?” “Is Grunkle Stan alright?” they questioned almost in sync. It was when Ford realised that, honestly “I don't know...” He had no idea whether his brother was ok, whether he was going to be alright, whether he would stay like this forever. The fact that the last thing he said to him was that he was pretty much a horrible caretaker with tendencies beyond childish didn't help him feel any better. This could all actually be his fault. Stan came out here and turned to stone just because he thought how worthless he was. It only made sense. He'd probably have to apologize to get him off the roof eventually, for the kids' sake if anything. Maybe he just needed some time? “Let's get you two back indoors, I'll find a way to get your great uncle off the roof.”

And with that, the three of them headed back inside. Soon enough, Ford tucked the twins in, although he couldn't quite sleep himself. He kept on thinking about Stanley, whether he should or shouldn't apologize. He was still angry about his brother's habits, but thinking about it now, Stanley really didn't mean it. He was in no control of what happend, and what happened happened. Perhaps he could help him control it? Help him meditate and learn how to take cont- BOOM! The loud sound of thunder interrupted his train of thought. It was past midnight when the storm struck up, waking up the twins upstairs. “AAAAH!!! Grunkle Ford!!” They screamed. Ford ran out of his room almost immediately, rushing up into the twins' bedroom to check up on the two. “Don't worry kids! It's just a storm... It'll be over shortly.” Ford said as he came into the room, trying to comfort the two. “B-but Grunkle Ford, Grunkle Stan is still outside! Could you please go check on him?“ Mabel asked with worry in her pleading eyes. It seemed they were not afraid of the storm itself, but afraid of what could happen to their Grunkle.

“Alright, stay here, I'll be back shortly.” Without any further hesitation, Ford left the shack for the back yard, stopping in front of the porch. With a light flap of his wings, he brought himself to the rooftop his brother sat upon, landing by his side as the rain slowly drenched his clothes. “Stanley!” Stanford called, grumbling lowly as another lightning struck, shaking the ground with its shortly following thunder. Frowning, the older twin spread a wing out over his brother to shield him off from the rain, leaning forward in attempts to see into his brother's face. “Stanley, the children are worried, quit this little act and get inside!” No response. Sighing, Ford settled down by Stan's side, keeping a wing spread overhead to keep him out of the heavy rain, although to a stone statue, it mattered none. Glancing aside, Stanford grumbled, setting his hands into his lap as he began his little confrontation. “Quit acting like a child, Stanley, it’s been three days... I am sorry, okay? I know you can't control it. I know you couldn't when Wendy attacked Dipper and I know it wasn't your intention. The things you do for the kids, the way you treat them... I know you would never intentionally stone yourself and let them get hurt. I was angry, I was afraid. Afraid of what could've happened if I hadn't come in time. I am sorry that I blamed you for something out of your control. Please, come inside and stop punishing yourself like this. I can try to help you with controlling it, help you learn how to prevent it just...please don't do this to yourself... To the kids... To me...” Receiving no response, the older twin looked down helplessly, giving a heavy sigh. “I-” “What do ya think I've been doing?” Ford started, only to be cut off by- Stanley. Dazed by the sudden response, the sphinx had a hard time speaking again, stammering. “W-w--what do you mean..?” “I am not stupid, Ford. I know I have no control over it, and I know I shoulda learn how to control it. So I've been here, tryin' ta' learn how ta' do it.” Stan explained as he lowered his wings, the stony shell around him crackling and falling off slowly, leaving the gargoyle dry and refreshed. “W-wait- so you are...you were not doing this to punish yourself...? You were not angry with me?” Ford questioned as the two of them met eyes. “Oh, no no, I was angry with ya, Poindexter. Glad ya figured ya'd come apologize now. I was about ta' give up to da rain. Don't get me wrong, da rain's nice, but the thunder part of it all is unnecessary.” “...So you were childishly ignoring me.” “Maaaybe?” This received Stan a light shove and almost immediately after a tight hug around the neck with a nuggie that almost instantly threw his fez off into his lap. “You little!-” “Little what?!” Stan exclaimed in between his chuckles, tackling his brother off the roof with laughter. It was a safe fall for the two of them, leaving them playfully rolling about in the mud on the ground as they laughed together, soon sitting up with light chuckles and huff while the rain slowly washed bits of the mud away. “Sixer?” “Yes, Stanley?” “Sorry fer actin' like an oversized kid.” “Heh... Sorry for acting like an adult know-it-all.” “Apology accepted.” “I suppose I need to ease up a little.” “I guess I need ta' grow up a little.” The two of them said in sync, laughing before smiling at eachother.

“GRUNKLE STAN!! GRUNKLE FORD!! ARE YOU GUYS-- oh...” The cervitaur kicking the back door of the shack yelled, carrying his sister on his back. The two of them were sure they'd just seen the two of them argue and fall off the roof in a scuffle- then again, it was hard to actually make out what they were saying through the window. “Dipper my boy, you-- you made it down the stairs? On your own? With Mabel on your back?” “I-” Dipper blushed. “Y-yeah I- I guess I just uh- we needed to check on you guys and- I am sorry I didn't listen-” “Don't be sorry, Dipper, you listened to your instincts and those told you your family might be in trouble. You acted very selflessly. I would've done the same. I am proud of you.” The sphinx and the cervitaur exchanged a smile, although it was soon replaced by an expression of shock as Mabel yelled: “Could you guys stop nerding out about this and focus on the important stuff?!” “Ouch-” Dipper huffed. “Grunkle Stan is back! And you guys made up! But uh- we should get inside. You guys could catch a cold and I am gonna *huff* I am gonna suffocate here.” “Ah- yes, let's get all back inside, quickly. Dipper, I'll need to check your bandages! Stanley, could you take care of Mabel?” “Sure thing Poindexter!” With that, the two of them stood, coming up to cradle their respective twins in their arms to care for them inside.

Getting a little moisture from her great uncle's wet suit, Mabel smiled as she was carried towards her pool, looking up to her Grunkle with a murmur: “I am glad you're back Grunkle Stan.” “I am glad ta' be back, too.”

WELP- Here you have it guys! This was one hell of a ride. It's the longest and the first thing I ever wrote and actually published. Is it good? Is it not? Who knows! I tried to keep it as short as possible. Hope you guys like the answer to what happened prior this picture:

Either way, hope you're having a swell day!

And as for the promised summary:

Summary: Grunkle Stan and the kids have a little accident with Dipper and Wendy, which Grunkle Stan sits through, being in his stone form. This angers Ford and he tells him to learn how to control it. From there, Stan disappears and is nowhere to be found, only to be later discovered on the roof in his statue form. He is irresponsive, everyone os worried, but in the end, everything turns out well.

#monsterfalls #monster falls #grunkle stan #grunkle ford #stanford pines #stanley pines #gravity falls #mabel pines #dipper pines #sphinxford #gargoylestan #gar grunkle stan #mermaid mabel #cervitaur dipper #deer dipper

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