#grcvityfclls

[hochmvt]

everything's a life or death situation with you at this point.

If one took a closer look at Dipper and Isaiah, especially how they interacted not just with each other but to their surroundings, too, one quickly realized that they operated quite similarly on a very elementary level – surpassing the shared surname. Or, to be more precise, their motivations were the same. They were both seemingly driven by a thirst for knowledge - knowing full well that the Earth's biodiversity had much more than its 3.6 million to 112 million species to offer. And when you thought about the infinity of the universe, about all the things that wandered beyond the blue planet, one felt much smaller and more insignificant than was healthy for the egocentric human mind.

A wonderful feeling, when Isaiah thought about the concept of nihilism enough: That no matter what you did, nothing really mattered and thus, insignificance gave you the freedom to do everything. Even if that meant exploring all that existence had to offer until one's very last breath. Life had so much to offer and Isaiah was often overcome with a childlike euphoria when he met people who had similar passions – or concepts of reality – to his own. They knew that the inexplicable nature of things contained a beauty that was not only to be explored, but also to be truly admired. 

Dipper seemed much more rational in his approach to certain endeavors, for now only facing them in a more theoretical framework, while Isaiah was perhaps not necessarily less calculating, but much more emotionally driven in his response to situations. “Thanks,” the blonde replied and gave a wider grin, leaning further over the table of the diner where they had sat down around three in the morning and studying the books he had bought in addition to his and Dipper's own notes. “I kinda take this as a compliment. Anyways, have you ever encountered something like that before? What on earth did we just witnessed there?”

[firebrnd]

📜

incorrect quotes generator

Bonnie: I've already sent good vibes your way... they're coming. There's nothing you can do to stop them. Dipper: This is the most threatening way I've ever been cheered up.

Dipper: Today is the day of running through hurdles. Bonnie: Aren't you supposed to jump OVER hurdles? Dipper: Whatever. Fear is only something to be afraid of if you let it scare you.

[mikaels0n-elijah-writing]

@grcvityfclls sends: if you don't kiss me again, i'll die.

Grinning, Elijah approached Dipper, knowing what he was doing to him, knowing what it would do to him. Burning. It burned so much inside him that he couldn't help it. And yet he wanted to tease the other, to lure him out of his reserve. He grabbed him by the back of the neck, not necessarily gently, but still lovingly, and pulled him close. He now looked down at him slightly from above, still grinning.

"We have to prevent that, don't we?"

[mikaels0n-elijah-writing]

Elijah let Dipper wash off the blood in peace. He did it so routinely that it seemed like it wasn't the first time. They were still able to continue the conversation afterwards. The vampire slumped down on the one chair in the room and waited patiently. He had opened his jacket. The water was turned off and Dipper's voice sounded again, as did his body in the doorway, even though they could have been looking at each other the whole time.

„Not every vampire can be murdered with a piece of wood, with me for example you would induce a kind of rigour, with luck. With bad luck, it won't do anything.“ At least not with the wrong wood, but the vampire didn't say so. „There are different kinds of vampires,“ he added. Maybe that would explain a lot. Not everything, but a lot.

„Vampire blood is popular for spells because it's powerful, but other than that, you don't have to worry. You don't get addicted or anything. You die from normal vampire blood if you have cancer or something like that. With my blood, I don't think so. It just wouldn't be able to cure you.“ He gave Dipper a quick glance while he was getting dressed. He didn't look to Elijah like he might have a terminal illness, but you never knew.

„No, I sleep normally in bed. When I'm asleep.“ He shrugged his shoulders upwards. „It's not necessary, but of course it helps to fill the night hours when there's nothing else going on.“ He winked briefly. „Sunlight can kill a vampire, unless they have a daylight ring. Though I've met vampires who only glitter in the sun. Very noticeable.“ He laughed softly at the thought; it was amusing to see little diamonds spread across a skin just from sun stepping on it. 

„How long do you stay in a place like this? Do you change your location often?“

“Why wouldn't a wooden stake work? It worked with the one that's dead now, didn't it?” He furrowed his eyebrows. He was so sure about that detail. Garlic was one thing he didn't believe in, but hearing that a weapon he already knew didn't always work was a little disconcerting. “Are there different types of vampires or is it more like you have to hit the heart in the right spot?” He gave the man a quick sideways glance before his eyes met the road again. 

The fact that there were vampires looking for Elijah wasn't exactly reassuring. It meant a lot of possibilities if he was recognized by someone, and most of them weren't in Dipper's mind, but who knew how long they would both walk the same path before they parted and perhaps never saw each other again. But it was good to know that the vampire didn't mind if some of them died while Dipper was trying to get more information for his journal. 

He was lost in thought and forgot to react to Elijah's answer. 

The motel room he had rented greeted them both with darkness. Dipper hadn't drawn the curtains, but when he turned on the light, the room was clean and reasonably tidy. He had only unpacked a few things in case he had to leave this place in a few minutes. But for now, he casually dropped the things  out of his pockets, got rid of his shirt and threw it on the floor with another dirty shirt. “Feel right at home.” 

Dipper was already on his way to the bathroom, thinking about Elijah's question. 

But when he saw himself in the mirror, his questions had to wait a moment while he washed the blood from his skin with a washcloth. The door was wide open because he didn't care if Elijah was watching him or the little mess he had left in his room. But as he wiped the blood away, he hesitated and looked through the door in the other man's direction. “Is there anything else I need to know about vampire blood? Or is it just the healing and turning part? I can't get addicted to it or killed if I drink it?” He raised his eyebrows, remembering some strange things he'd seen on TV. “Uh, and of course you don't sleep in a coffin, I guess?”

[skyfallstarlights]

🌹🥀♫ //✧˖°  →  ▒ [{ @grcvity-fclls: }] ▒   ←   ✧˖°   // ♫ 🥀🌹

Rosewood had been listening to the sound of the birds chirpping and chattering away in the branches for some time. The sun was beinging to set and so the birds were bidding farewell to their fello avians before they would sleep. It was more calmer, enjoyable to listen to them compared to the noise that would echo from the town and echoing voices. At lest. not this far deep in the woods.

His head would tilt towards the side at seeing the flicker of movement towards one of the trees. Crimson and pale white gaze turns to follow. For a moment he would of thought it was one of the animals of the woods running to their burrow but he doubts that.

Gathering his cloak, the heavy fabric brushing against the grass covered floor as leaves crunch beneath his hooves.

" The sun is starting to set. It be wise to leave before hand "

[firebrnd]

⋆ having a scary movie marathon

Bonnie had never been one to turn down a good scare, even if it meant spending half the movie peeking out from behind a pillow. She loved horror films, the thrill of it, the way it got her heart racing, but she had to admit, she was a bit of a scaredy-cat when it came to jump scares and eerie music. Still, that wasn’t going to stop her from enjoying a scary movie marathon with Dipper. Especially when she’d gone all out prepping for their night in.

She glanced around her small living room, feeling a swell of satisfaction at how cozy she’d managed to make it despite the creepy theme. A few flickering candles sat on the coffee table, casting a warm, inviting glow over the room, their flames dancing like tiny spirits. She’d draped a plush, autumn-themed blanket over the couch, a little pile of soft pillows strategically placed for easy hiding if things got too spooky. Nearby, a tray of carefully arranged snacks sat waiting: popcorn drizzled with dark chocolate, a bowl of caramel apples slices, a mix of candy corn and pretzels, and some homemade witch-themed cookies she’d baked earlier - tiny hats and broomsticks with colorful icing.

Bonnie had even strung up a few fairy lights around the windows for good measure. They were purple and orange, creating an ambiance that was just the right mix of festive and eerie. She liked the way it felt, a cozy kind of spooky, like the line between comfort and thrill was just thin enough to make the whole evening more exciting. And she hoped Dipper would think so, too.

As she heard a knock on the door, her heart gave a little jump, not from fear, but from a flicker of anticipation. Dipper stood there with his usual easy grin, holding up a stack of DVDs. “I brought the essentials” he said, his eyes already scanning the cozy setup she’d put together. “And maybe a few extras, just in case.”

Bonnie laughed, opening the door wider to let him in. “Perfect! I hope you’re ready for a night of me screaming at all the wrong moments” she teased, shutting the door behind him. “I even made snacks to keep our courage up. Or, you know, to bribe any wandering spirits to leave us alone.” She waggled her eyebrows playfully as she led him over to the couch.

She grinned, feeling a little pleased with herself. She plopped down on the couch, grabbing a handful of popcorn and patting the space next to her. “Come on, let’s get started. But I warn you. . . if you see me grabbing a pillow, that’s your cue to cover my eyes.”

Dipper settled in beside her, close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him. He gave her a playful nudge. “Deal. But only if you promise not to scream directly in my ear when something jumps out.”

Bonnie laughed and nodded. “I make no promises, but I’ll try my best” she said, reaching for the remote. She skimmed through the stack of movies, settling on an older classic to kick things off, a good mix of suspense and campy horror. As the opening credits rolled, she sank back into the cushions, the dim light from the candles flickering around them like a chorus of tiny ghosts.

They fell into a comfortable rhythm as the movie played - Bonnie jumping and yelping at the well-timed scares, Dipper chuckling and teasing her good-naturedly. She knew she was a bit of a scaredy-cat, but there was something about watching horror with someone who didn’t mind her squeals and half-hidden face that made it all the more fun. When a particularly loud jump scare hit, she nearly knocked over the bowl of popcorn, grabbing Dipper’s arm reflexively. “Okay, that was dirty” she said, trying to sound annoyed but unable to hide the grin tugging at her lips.

As they settled into the second movie, a thought occurred to her, and she turned to Dipper with a mischievous glint in her amber eyes. “You know” she began, her voice laced with mock seriousness, “we could always up the ante and have the next marathon at the arcade. Think about it. . . finding some old TV or projector, dusting it off, and watching horror movies there. It’d be like one of those urban legend stories where a cursed video starts playing on its own.”

[hochmvt]

“You're remarkably terrible at getting other people to sniff it, you know that?” Isaiah chuckled and leaned back, thus declining the very charming offer of the man across from him, sipping his coffee and taking the photo in his hand. If they had been sitting in the diner where his mother worked back home in Greenville, she would certainly have shaken her head at the fact that her son was sitting here at 3 a.m., still drinking coffee, even though his head was never still anyway. She would’ve urged him to go to bed and continue what he was doing the day after. But he couldn’t. Even as he sat there, staring at the photo, he could feel his brain reaching to the very corners of vastly different theories and ideas. All of this didn’t make much sense to him, thus refusing to let him settle on just one thing. It wasn’t just curiosity — it was a relentless need, like an itch he couldn’t scratch. 

The more he stared at those golden eyes, the more his thoughts spiraled, making connections between things that might not even exist. Maybe he needed to start somewhere else. The paper itself was old, the kind one didn’t see much anymore. He ran his finger along the edges, feeling the texture, the thickness. It wasn’t a particularly cheap paper. Whoever had taken this photo knew what they were doing and they spent money on it. And the grain of the picture revealed, that it wasn’t a cheap film stock either; very delicate and fine, the colors (despite their abscence of it) reminded him of Vision3 — and yet the ISO was low, meaning it had been taken in good light. No flash, no harsh shadows. And yet, it was dark, but it didn't feel like it was due to underexposure. The quality of the image, despite its motion blur, suggested it wasn’t recent. Maybe the late '70s, early '80s. Daylight, but not direct sun. If he had to guess, he’d say late afternoon, the kind of light that softens everything just before it fades into dusk. He could almost feel the air in that moment — cool, still, and charged with something unspoken.

These eyes however, burning gold, weren’t just watching — they were waiting. Anticipating. Hunting. He didn't think it was a demon or a spirit, nothing ethereal or fleeting. This felt physical, grounded in a way the supernatural rarely was. Something with form, almost crouching, hunched over like it was stalking its next move, waiting for the right moment to strike. Like a predator. The blurry surroundings only fed into the sense of danger, of something hiding just out of reach.

Isaiah felt anticipation and enthusiasm rise in his body, a feeling deep and instinctive, telling him this was no ordinary creature. It wasn’t just lurking in the shadows — it had manifested, brought into this world somehow, as if the environment itself had called it into being. The more he stared, the more he was certain: whatever it was, it wasn’t here by accident. And it waited to be found. ”So, where did you find all this stuff?” Isaiah asked as he pulled out his laptop, his legs becoming restless again. He alternately tapped the tips of his other fingers with his thumb. First the index, then the middle, then the ring and finally the little finger. Then backwards. Then starting again from the front. ”So, I usually start at missing people. When there’s something out there, usually people go missing or have... accidents. Cold cases are a good point to start, too. All of this feels— old. Ancient. Dunno, it’s a gut feeling, but it’s— something.”

A laugh left Dipper's throat. “That really is a compliment,” he replied, still chuckling as he looked up from his notes. He wiggled his eyebrows and looked at Isaiah through his eyelashes. But his question made him sit up straight and lean back on the bench for a second. He thought about his words. Then he shook his head. “Nope, not at all. Not that I know of. But that just makes things more interesting.” His eyes sparkled with action as he leaned on the table himself and looked deep into Isahai's eyes. “Do you have any idea what this could be?” Of course Isaiah asked first, but perhaps he already had something in mind. As Dipper knows, this man had traveled much more than Dipper himself and had seen things far removed from what was in Dipper's journal. But it also worked the other way around. Dipper might have seen things that Isaiah didn't know about now. He only thought of Bill in that one moment before he gently shook his head and broke eye contact to look at the evidence they already had. 

He bites his lips from the inside and lets his brown eyes wander over the photos, which weren't helpful at all, a few hairs in a small plastic bag, some newspaper articles and - of course - a handful of witness statements. 

“In a world where we have the first bunch of AIs, you'd think people would have learned how to focus on a camera by now, right? Or the video function?” He wasn't angry at all, but sometimes it would be easier if the photos didn't look like they'd been taken with a toaster. He grabbed one and placed it in the middle of the table between them. Then he looked up at Isaiash's eyes again. “It could be anything. A man, a deer, a pumpkin on a stick, or a bunch of gnomes in a trenchcoat. And the photo itself could be taken anywhere. In the forest or in a desert. Only the colors tell me it wasn't on a beach.” He chuckled softly and looked down at the photo. The only tiny clue that what they were looking for actually existed. Whatever this thing was, only its eyes were imaginable. Large and yellow or gold in color. A little hard to make out, since the photo itself only showed shadows and blurry trees and bushes. 

"Do some spirits have those kind of eyes? Or a demon? Oh, please. I hope it's not a demon. I've never dealt with anything like that before." Dipper sighed and reached for his cup of coffee. As he put it back on the table, the waitress came and refilled their cups, looked at their papers and walked away with a shake of her head. Dipper raised an eyebrow. ‘I made a guess,’ he said, looking from the waitress to Isaiah again, ‘We're not the first ones to sit here in the middle of the night looking for what this is.’ He pointed at the photo again, pushed it aside and picked up the bag of hair. 

Following a thought, he opened the bag and sniffed it carefully, not trying to inhale anything but the smell, and flinched almost immediately. "Oh damn, have you ever sniffed that before? Disgusting. Definitely not human. It reminds me of the sewers, but what the hell would voluntarily live down there?" He held the bag out to Isiah, not sure if he was going to sniff it or not. Dipper wiggled his nose, trying to get rid of the odour, but of course it didn't work. 

[firebrnd]

🎲 - Pick a random question to answer from this list.

🧑‍🤝‍🧑 - Do they have any siblings?

Bonnie has an older sister called Mary. Unlike Bonnie, Mary never tapped into her witch abilities and chose a different path, working as a nurse. Despite their differences, they share a close bond and Bonnie secretly admires Mary's strength and compassion in her own field. Mary is like an anchor for Bonnie, to whom she can hold on when necessary.

[firebrnd]

𝙃𝙊𝙒 𝙒𝙊𝙐𝙇𝘿 𝘽𝙊𝙉𝙉𝙄𝙀 𝙇𝙊𝙊𝙆 𝘼𝙎 𝘼 ( . . . ) 𝘾𝙊𝙈𝙄𝘾 𝘽𝙊𝙊𝙆 𝙄𝘾𝙊𝙉?

tagged by: @dopplgaenger (♥) tagging: @ashbalfour @grcvityfclls @shevampyre

[mikaels0n-elijah-writing]

Elijah listened to his words, letting his gaze sweep over his face, noticing the playful smile, the strong expression in his eyes. He was a gift that Elijah welcomed. Sighing, he leaned forward as soon as the other one caught his lower lip, cupping his head with his hands again. This time, there was no sign of the caution. Elijah took what he wanted. What he desired. He growled into the kiss. He nibbled on his lower lip and pulled back the next moment. His veins under his eyes were pronounced, a hungry expression on his face, his fangs visible. He inhaled deeply, turning his face away briefly.

“You smell too tempting,” he admitted to himself and the other as his hands wandered down. Briefly stroking his neck. He was a vampire. And Dipper so human and fragile. He had to control himself. His hands ended their wandering at his hips, eagerly pulling the man close again, feeling the warmth, the closeness. He sighed and dug his fingers firmly into the skin.

His lungs filled with oxygen as Elijah broke away from him. His kiss had been breathtaking and had ended far too soon. On the other hand, the brief pause was good for sorting out his thoughts. “Satisfied?” He repeated the question, and for a moment he let it hover between them, raising an eyebrow and a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “It takes more than a kiss to satisfy me.” If Dipper was honest, even two kisses wouldn't be enough for him. Elijah had awakened something in him that the other man didn't seem to be aware of yet. “Maybe three kisses would satisfy me.” Dipper smirked slightly and brushed his lips over Elijah's. “Or maybe four.” A hoarse laugh escaped his throat as he maintained eye contact. “But it could also be that I can't get enough.” He bit Elijah's lower lip playfully.

[sonnenreich]

When he had invited Dipper into his home, enraptured by his curiosity over the blonde witcher, he probably should have suspected him to not play by the rules or common courtesy. In disbelief he stared at the brunette, the book on the floor and the surface of the mirror distorting their image as if stirred like the ocean. Zeev had falsely assumed that, of all people, Dipper was aware of the dangers of magic and how anything paranormal isn’t inherently harmless to use. Sure, Zeev wasn't a witcher who had dedicated himself to black magic in order to do evil, let alone harm others, but he was still fond of the knowledge of it. Clearly the brunette had similar tendencies. That he should have asked him not to touch anything, let alone read from it, had been his own mistake. 

Frustrated, he rubbed his face and approached the other, placing his hand on his shoulder and gently pulling him back. A precautionary measure, even though he was unlikely to stop him if he decided to touch the mirror. 

“You're too curious for your own good, Mason,” he grumbled, knowing full well that he didn't usually use that name. He could have called him an idiot, but Zeev was just too polite for that, though the frustration was palpable. 

“You summoned an entity.” He sighed and looked at the reflection, in which two Dippers were now visible. The entity had no form of its own and took the one that revealed itself to him. The only difference was the completely white eyes, devoid of a human pupil. The image seemed to ignore Zeev, completely focussed on Dipper. His lips curled and he tilted his head to the side, scrutinising the brunet as if to make sure he was reflecting his image correctly. 

“You miss her, don't you?” whispered his likeness, his gaze—freed of life—unwavering. He didn't blink, why should he? It was just a mirror. “When have you seen her the last time? It's been ages, hasn't it?” The image's voice was soft, fluid and warm. Inviting in a way that gave them goosebumps. Zeev frowned questioningly, looking at Dipper for a moment, the pressure on his shoulder tightening.

“Don't give them anything,” he warned him. “Do not engage.”

you must not read from the book!

Dipper's curiosity would one day lead him to his death. That is true. Most of the dramas in his life would have been wiped out immediately if he hadn't been curious. But then he wouldn't have met most of the people in his life. Staying curious or keeping it together and not rummaging through other people's things was also a difficult decision. Although it had actually been quite easy for Dipper. After all, it was Zeev's own fault if he left his books lying around, wasn't it? Dipper was also immediately thrilled when he saw that the book was written in mirror writing. Oh, he loved it! Whatever was in that book that was so important that it was written backwards, Dipper would uncover its secrets.

He took a quick look around for Zeev, but there was no sign of the other man, so Dipper grabbed the book, stood in front of the nearest reflective surface he could find, and began to read.

He didn't even notice that he was reading aloud.

“You must not read from the book!”

Zeev's voice interrupted him. Unfortunately, too late. Dipper had already finished the paragraph when the book slipped from his fingers in shock and hit the floor. He backed away. Not necessarily because of Zeev's words, but because of the intensity with which he had hurled them at him. “Um... Oops?” Dipper raised his hands defensively and turned to Zeev. “I just couldn't resist.” What a lame excuse that was! And yet he had managed it. Inwardly, he was already bracing himself for Zeev's wrath, but was distracted by something.

The mirror he had been standing in front of.

The surface changed. It became cloudy, then it seemed as if drops of water were falling into it and small waves distorted their two mirror images. Wait, there were no longer two reflections, but three. But Zeev and Dipper were alone. “What the hell...”

[firebrnd]

Bonnie felt the energy shift the moment they stepped into the room, the red light painting everything in a strange, unsettling hue. She took in her surroundings with a practiced eye, the weight of the room's atmosphere settling over her like a thick fog. The air was heavy with an odd, almost metallic tang beneath the citrus scent, and she breathed it in carefully, letting her senses absorb the layers of the room. She could feel Dipper’s presence just behind her, his curiosity and excitement mingling with a hint of nervousness that she found oddly reassuring. For a hunter of the unknown, he didn’t seem too jaded, and she liked that about him.

She watched him test the doors, her lips quirking into a small smile at his determination. "Looks like we're locked in" she mused, more to herself than him. It wasn’t a surprise; this whole house felt like a trap disguised as fun. She let her fingers graze one of the bookshelves, feeling the tingle of old, restless energy emanating from the objects crammed onto the shelves. "No, not often" she answered, her voice soft as she turned to glance at Dipper. "But something about this place. . . well, it seemed worth a look." Her fingers lingered on a peculiar trinket, an old brass compass that seemed to tremble slightly at her touch.

When Dipper mentioned the skeleton, Bonnie turned her attention back to the desk. Her eyes narrowed, her gaze tracing the key around its neck. "Dance with the dead?" she echoed with a light laugh, stepping closer to examine the skeleton. "I think I'd rather ask for a favor." She leaned in, her red hair brushing over her shoulder, her eyes locked on the empty sockets of the skull. There was something oddly ceremonial about the way it was positioned, as if it were waiting for a cue. "But I suppose if it insists. . ."

She reached out, intending to gently remove the key, but the skeleton's finger twitched again, and Bonnie paused, her breath catching. The shadows in the room seemed to pulse for a moment, reacting to the skeleton's subtle movement. She could feel the energy rising, shifting from dormant to active. Her eyes darted back to Dipper, a glimmer of both excitement and caution in her amber gaze.

The room seemed to hold its breath, the tension hanging heavy in the air. She felt a prickle at the back of her neck, a warning that something was about to shift. Then, without any prelude, the red light that had bathed the room flickered once, twice, and then went out entirely, plunging them into total darkness. The sudden change was like a cold hand gripping her heart, and for a split second, she could feel nothing but the thick, impenetrable void around them.

“Dipper?” she called, her voice echoing strangely in the pitch-black room. She could sense him close by, feel the warmth of his energy amidst the creeping cold, but even that comforting presence seemed muted by the darkness. Her eyes darted around, trying to adjust, but it was as if the room had swallowed all the light. The air was heavy with a sense of anticipation, of something waiting just out of sight, watching. She could hear the faint, distant rustle of fabric, like a whisper, and the almost imperceptible creak of the floorboards beneath their feet. She resisted the urge to reach out blindly, instead grounding herself, focusing on the rhythmic beat of her own heart to keep calm.

He was comforted by the fact that Bonnie had said of her own accord that they should stay together for a while. That way, Dipper didn't have to think up a reason. "You're right. Could be fun. A witch and a hunter, what could possibly go wrong?" Everything Dipper had ever imagined, but that's another story. Or is it? 

As he followed Bonnie down the corridor, he noticed that the candles were dimmed, but not naturally. He had never seen anything like it. A shadowy creature and now dimmed light, even the candles themselves seemed normal when he looked at them. A strange feeling haunted him, but it couldn't dampen his curiosity to find out what they were working with. Had they entered some kind of portal? A parallel world? There were too few clues to find an answer right now. 

The reddish light caught his attention too, and when Bonnie's voice rang out, he tried his best to hide any excitement he might be feeling at that second. "No, we shouldn't." He shook his head, but then looked at her through his lashes. "But we do." The corners of his mouth twisted into a smirk as he reached for the doorknob with his hand. As soon as he touched it, a melodic laugh rang through the corridor. It started out barely audible, but picked up in volume as it rushed past them and died away at the end of the corridor. Dipper winced, then laughed. "They have really good special effects." A click sounded and the door directly in front of them slid silently open. "Like I said." 

The grin on his lips widened as he pulled the door wide open and glanced into the room. "Second to you." He tried to be a gentleman, but he was right behind Bonnie as they passed through the door. 

They entered a room bathed in a red light from which it was impossible to recognise where it came. In the centre of the room was a heavy wooden desk and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled not only with books, but also with trinkets and memorabilia. Their footsteps were muffled by a heavy, thick carpet as they entered the room. The air was different. Heavier, not as cold as the air in the corridor and infused with a scent that Dipper couldn't place. It was something heavy. Tart, perhaps. Something Dipper had smelled before but couldn't place at the moment. It smelled of citrus too as he took another cautious breath. 

The door fell into its lock, but it wasn't the only one leading out of the room. Dipper tried the one they had already come through, but it was locked. He tried another, which was also locked, and decided not to try the last door. "We're trapped." But since this is a haunted house and supposed to be fun, he surmised there was a key here. Maybe someone was watching them, which would explain the feeling of being watched that he still had. So what were they supposed to do to unlock the doors? 

"After all, it's just us here." It could be good or bad to be locked up with someone you barely knew, but for him it was a good sign that they weren't both locked up here with a shadowy creature. 

"Do you visit haunted houses often?"

He followed the bookshelves half around the room, touching a shelf here and there, trying out a book, looking for something like a switch or a knob. "Where should I hide a hint?" It wasn't supposed to be a question for Bonnie, but it slipped past his lips anyway. When he came to the heavy chair behind the desk - the back had been facing them - he realised that someone was sitting in it. "Oh, not alone at all," he muttered and moved closer to take a look, but what he imagined to be a person turned out to be a skeleton. "Um", his eyes fell on Bonnie again. "Do you want to dance with the dead? He's got a key round his neck." 

Looking at Bonnie, Dipper missed the skeleton's moving finger, which began to move its bones as it awoke.