With every frightening turn, Dipper knew he was dead meat. Horns and stuffed animal heads and skeleton heads from long-deceased wild animals hung on walls and took up every shelf. In the darkness of the hunter's workshop, he felt fear tearing and chewing at him even more.

Tears streamed silently down his face due to the anxiety and unknowing horror of his incoming fate. Everywhere he looked he found more corpses of animals and probably every possible sharp or chunky - or both - weapons that Bill kept lying around.

As Dipper tried to turn his head to the door, he clenched his wounded stomach in agonizing and wrenching pain. He dropped his head with exhaustion on the cold metal table that his hunter had laid him on. He didn't dare try to fight his straps that kept him down. He was too afraid of what would happen if he did. So, he stayed as still as possible, hoping that the man that had just made his appearance at the door wouldn't bother him. But, Dipper's luck ran short when the incrazed young-looking man laughed wickedly and mechanically and began playing with his most threatening tools.

Dipper tried to breathe through his gunshot wound the best he could, but every time he tried, his lungs spat the air back out. He felt like he was dying - probably because he was. If that was the case, then Dipper just wanted it all to be over with. Dipper raised his wet hand to his face so he could see for himself how bad the damage was. His hand was drenched in his own blood. He shut his eyes as tight as they would ever be and wished it didn't hurt so unbearably deep.

Bill began to whistle a joyous, happy tune. He knew his presence was making Dipper unsettled and horrorfied. Bill grinned, mischievously. With an unnecessarily loud, heart-stopping thud, Bill laid his shotgun on the table and went on to opening his tool box of metal objects. From Dipper's perspective, Bill was holding up an intensively sharp blade up to the workshop's only light source, a bare light bulb that hung over the workstation.

Bill could hear that, from behind him, Dipper was putting up a fight. He could hear him struggling to battle his wound and unstrap himself at the same time. It wasn't until he let out a deer-like cry of sudden pain that Bill laughed hysterically and finally took his back off of the half-deer half-boy.

Immediately, Dipper froze in place. He was dead. This is where he was going to meet his end. This was the part where he would be mounted on a wall and become part of Bill's disgusting collection. This was it. Right about now, all he wanted to see was his family and be back home, at the Mystery Shack.

"No, please! Stop!" Dipper said in a forced whisper. He felt if he talked any louder, then his lungs would explode. He figured if he couldn't fight back verbally, he could try fighting back physically. So, Dipper used his deer legs and began kicking them, furiously. He kept his arms around his stomach that dared to make his head fuzzy and his eyesight blurry.

Bill chuckled with a sick, sinister laugh. "Looks like this little deer likes to play games! Well, I can play, too!" He proceeded to approach Dipper with the blade in his hand and continued on. "Here's my favorite game. I call it 'find out what makes the little deer scream'."

Bill proudly held up his knife and Dipper let out a screech of fear. Dipper, as terrorized as he was, tried to hoof Bill and give himself some time to ecsape. He tried all he could, even though it all seemed hopeless and fate was against him. He closed his eyes as tight as they would go and waited. But, fortunately for him, the searing pain never came. Instead, another sweetly high-pitched voice broke out.

"You wanna mess with that deer, you're gonna have to go through me, first." It was Mabel's voice, of course. From the shooting star sweater down to her knee-high white socks and black flats, Mabel stood in the doorway of the workshop. With that, Dipper was finally able to relax and breathe - despite the fact he had a hole blown straight through his stomach.

(Monster Falls AU)