Hello people of fan fiction! As you probably already knew, my name is Mortuus Mysterium! Just a little author's note, this story takes place in between Northwest Mansion Mystery and Not What He Seems (so NWHS doesn't occur the day after NMM) Please enjoy, as this is my first fan fiction. This story is based on my wild imagination wondering, hey, what if there was a portal in the bunker that Dipper found in the forest. Then of course, there is the whole, "learning secrets that should've been left secret then going insane" biz... I gladly except reviews of all sorts, especially constructive criticism on my writing, as this is my first fan fiction...

I've talked for long enough, so without further ado...

Dipper scribbled furiously into his personal notebook as he walked along the forest path. He muttered to himself angrily when he realized that he misspelled a word before scratching it out. As he continued to write, his mutterings became more and more frantic.

Whispers. They whispered to him. The whispers, they taunted him.

Every time he took a step, a jolt of pain would shock him from his bandaged arms. Wincing, Dipper forged onwards, deeper into the forest. He stopped when he realized he reached his destination, an old tree that looked just like the surrounding ones. Only this one was different. His bagged eyes gazed upwards as he aimed his slingshot at a specific branch. When he released the stone, it expertly hit its mark dead on. For a moment nothing happened, then suddenly, the tree and a circular area of land around it started to sink into the ground. Once it had finished descending, a door appeared in the side of the tree. Wooden planks then projected out of the walls of the hole to form a stair case that led to the entrance.

Whispered to him were secrets. Secrets that maddened him.

As Dipper descended the staircase, his mutterings grew in volume. He dodged the booby traps without breaking a beat. He went through the decontamination chamber without pausing. His gaunt expression didn't waver when he passed the cryo-stasis tube that contained the shape shifter in the shape of Dipper himself, screaming in sheer, unadulterated agony. Deeper into the bunker he went and with each step he took, another facet of his mind cracked.

Whispered to him were promises. Promises laced in lies.

Throughout the complex, Dipper had discovered old rooms. In these various chambers, he found work stations, machines, and papers. The papers were especially intriguing to Dipper. A variety of sketches and drawings also occupied the space of some of these notes. To any other person, they would seem to just be a sequence of random numbers, letters, and symbols, but Dipper saw a pattern. Going through the papers, he learned secrets that made his mind reel, he saw things that would drive anyone else mad...

Dipper saw that the pattern could be seen even in the pages of the Journal. Secrets that were hidden before now stared at Dipper so plainly, he wondered how he could have missed them before.

He tried showing the pattern to others, but all they gave him were strange and worried looks. Even Mabel, his own sister, asked if he was okay when he tried to tell her. It was no matter though, Dipper thought, soon they would all believe him. He would prove that he wasn't insane. He would prove that there was a pattern. He would show them all.

Whispered to him were demands. Demands that burdened his soul.

After hours of walking, Dipper finally reached a thick metal door and beside it was a keypad. He typed the code into the keypad and the door gave a hiss, as if sighing, and it opened. Beyond the door was a secret greater than anything the notes could tell him about, something that even the Journal hadn't been able to describe fully.

The room beyond was dimly lit, with wiring trailing hazardously across the floor. In the very back of the room, a strange metal machine was bolted against the wall. It was shaped like an isosceles triangle and it pointed towards the ground like a giant arrow. The center of the device was occupied by a hole, whose edges were rimmed with strange symbols. When Dipper reached the back of the room, he dropped his bag and pulled out a weld and a welding mask.

He spent hours working on the machine, not bothering to eat or rest. He cringed, his arms were hurting like hell. If Mabel ever found out what he was doing to himself...- Mabel! Dipper glanced at his watch, which read 10:00 pm. His sister was going to kill him when he went back to the Shack this late into the night. He quickly made a last few touches to the machine before reaching for the lever to activate the device. Dipper's hand hovered above the lever as he hesitated. For a split second, he wondered why he was doing this. What was the point? Immediately as he thought those words, the whispers in his head turned into screams. Ear splitting screams. Among the mindless babble of words, there were two that Dipper heard prominently as he clutched his head in pain.

D̢̯̝̲̝̜̗̘ͧͪ͑ͣ͑͑̅͡Ơ̹̱̳̺̦̼̟͎̿̃ ̭̖̖̭͖̈́ͮ̓̓̐̒͘I̭̝̞̖͉ͪͤͦͦ̐͝Ț̭̯̲̞̱̍ͪ̐ͧͯͯ̒̀

Dipper quickly pulled the lever, causing the pain in his head to stop and the eldritch screams to reduce back to whispers. The machine started to produce a high pitched humming as it began to activate. Any item that was strapped down in the lab, including Dipper, started to float in the air. For a moment, Dipper thought that he had been successful in his venture, maybe the whispers would finally start to leave him alone. But, as if the heavens themselves were trying to prevent him from succeeding, the device sputtered, before shutting down completely. Dipper fell painfully to the ground and cursed. He desperately flipped a series of switches but to no avail. He sighed heavily, another day wasted. Panicking, he realized that everybody would notice that something was happening every time gravity decided to turn itself off. People would begin to notice. After a few minutes of consolation, he had to remind himself that the antigravity would not spread beyond the bunker. Dipper briefly wondered how he knew that before the voices in his head seemed to realize Dipper's failure and quickly decided to punish him for it. A piercing headache throbbed through his skull as he exited the bunker. On the way back to the shack, the whispers started to mumble frantically.

Whispered to him were threats. Threats that shook his very core.

As Dipper entered the gift shop, Stan looked worriedly at Dipper before asking gruffly, "Kid, where were you? You've been in that forest for, like, twelve hours. What were you even doing in there?"

"I was just exploring," Dipper mumbled in reply, his eyes glancing down hoping that his Grunkle wouldn't try to pry. Stan, fortunately, simply shrugged before turning back to watch his reruns of The Duchess Approves. Mabel, after hearing Dipper arrive through the door, rushed down the stairs, almost tripping on the way down, and stared as condescendingly as she could at him.

"Dippingsauce! you can't keep staying in the forest this late into the night!" the bubbly girl scolded at him, "you know what monsters and other bits and bobs will try to kill you at this time!"

Dipper mumbled quietly in response and tried to walk past her towards the stairs. Before he could escape, Mabel grabbed his arm and pulled him back in front of her. When she looked into his weary face, her eyes softened, "Dipper, I worry for you, you're always staying in that forest and I keep worrying that Jeff or something worst has gotten to you-." She paused in her rant as she looked down at his arms and before saying, "And what happened to your arms anyways, they've been bandaged for days?!"

The twelve year old sleuth glanced downwards sheepishly as Mabel chastised him about taking proper precautions whenever going into the forest.

"Now take off those bandages so that we can treat your cuts properly," Mabel scolded sternly at Dipper, who shied away at her tone.

"I'm fine Mabel," Dipper replied sheepishly while rubbing his bandages absent-mindedly, "they're just scratches."

"JUST SCRATCHES!?" Mabel cried out in protest, "YOU'RE BLEEDING STRAIGHT THROUGH THOSE BANDAGES!"

Sure enough, blood was seeping through the bandages that ran along the entire lengths of both of Dipper's arms, "Fine," Dipper grumbled in annoyance, "but I'm treating my own arms myself."

"Uh uh," Mabel said, "knowing you, you'll just change the bandages and be done with it, even if your arm is about to fall off!"

"Its either that or I leave these bandages on," was Dipper's only response.

Mabel glared at him, hoping that he would change his mind until it was clear that Dipper was standing firm with his choice. "Fine," Mabel grumbled, "just make sure that you use fresh bandages this time."

As Mabel stalked up the stairs, Dipper gave a sigh of relief. That was close, too close. Hurriedly, before she decided to change her mind, he hurried into the bathroom and shut the door. He carefully peeled off the bandages on his arms and peered at the wounds. He cringed when he noticed that had started to ooze pus as well as blood. Knowing that he couldn't get help from anybody, he sighed and wiped the cuts with antiseptic. Afterwards, he glanced at the cuts and nodded in approval, they looked much better now. As he gazed at his arms, it dawned on him that his memory really did have some blanks in it, he couldn't remember how he had so many cuts in his arms. He wondered what the strange symbols carved into his arms meant. Dipper was especially curious about why most of the cuts were shaped like eyes...

YAYS! First chapter done! Please review and tell me what you thought about my writing :)))

Just a little side note, there might be slight Dipcifica in this story but nothing major (probably).