No Matter What

Chapter 7: Long Shadows

"What makes you think that?" He asked carefully. He reached for his mask, noticing for the first time that it was missing. He took a step back and pulled his fingers away from the cold wall.

The creature has long, straggly limbs and tough, black skin. It was staring down at him with three red eyes, blinking simultaneously. One of its clawed fingers jabbed his chest, making him wince.

"Because you smell like one." The creature drawled, "and you certainly look like one."

"Well you are mistaken – I –" Dipper ducked under his arm, pointing the small pistol the beast's head. "I don't want trouble. I'll leave."

The alleyway turned cold, his breath beginning to fog the air. Dipper shivered.

"No...stay...you're perfect produce..." the creature hissed.

Dipper paled and stepped back again, but the beast's long hand caught his wrist. The gun clattered to the ground as Dipper felt his wrist crunch in the tight grip.

"Don't you know how much a human and it's parts are worth here?" The creature continued, pulling him to the ground. Dipper began to struggle, but was kicked in the stomach harshly. "And it happens that I actually am a producer for your kind..."

Dipper twisted out of the lanky arms frantically. He pulled out his pocket knife as he began to stand, but was only half way up before he was pulled down again. The knife, Stan's knife, was yanked out of his hand and tossed down the alleyway and into the shadows.

"Wait –" Dipper yelled too late, feeling a striking pain at the back of his skull that made lights flash in his eyes. He blacked out almost instantly, feeling himself getting slowly dragged down the road.

~

He didn't know where he was.

The realisation was unpleasant, forcing Dipper awake from us unconsciousness. He groaned as a sharp stab of pain grew at the back of his skull. He could feel blood slowly trickling down his neck.

His vision began to clear, and he could make out that he was in a small cell – long, thick bars were surrounding him, blending in with the dull grey wall he was currently propped up on.

Someone was watching him.

This second realisation followed the first one quickly, making his heart race. His eyes darted to the two creatures standing at the door of his cell, both holding long tools.

They looked like the creature he had encountered previously, only shorter in stature.

Without warning, they burst into the small cell and tackled him to the ground. Still groggy from his injury, Dipper found his limbs wouldn't cooperate. He could not kick or punch himself out of their vice-like grip.

They did not say a word, only held the long drill tool out towards his face. Dipper shrank back, trying to make out what the tool was going to be used for.

"Stop –" He yelled, the cry cutting off as his jaw was forced shut by a cold hand. He made a loud moan, trying to force himself free. They were simply too strong for him. They did not struggle at his efforts.

The weapon, Dipper realised, looked similar to a tattoo gun on Earth, only much larger. He stared down at the pointed end, gulping.

"What do you want?" Dipper asked, breathing heavily.

The creatures did not answer directly, but it was enough to make him fill with dread.

"Product number...stay still or we will make you." One hissed.

This was it? This was how he was going to meet his end? Sold on a market for his meat, and whatever else they liked from humans. Occasionally, Ford would need ingredients for spells and potions that were human, but they were minor properties like hair, saliva, small amounts of blood or fingernails. It never occurred to him how much human was actually desired.

Dipper was going to be killed, he guessed, once someone brought him. He would be nameless, faceless – experiencing the rest of his life in a cell.

"No!" Dipper kicked out, happy that he was gaining feelings in his limbs once more.

The attack sent one of the creatures stumbling backward, grip loosening for a fraction of a second. Dipper took his chance, ripping his arm from its hand and backhanding the other beast that still held him.

The cell door was open. If he was fast enough, he could slip out and leave this place behind him.

Determinedly, Dipper ran forward, ducking under one of the creatures as it tried to grab him. He flung himself at the doorway, his fingers grazing the bars. Only an inch more –

"No!" Dipper screamed as he felt his feet get yanked from under him, sending him crashing to the ground. He struggled uselessly as he was dragged back to the back of the cell.

"Hard way it is." One of the creatures had grabbed his waist, pinning him to the ground. The other was leaning over him, holding the drill in its long fingers.

"Wait –" Dipper begged. He writhed as he felt the needle break into the skin on his neck, sending unpleasant pricks of pain through him. He tried to break free, or at least ruin the tattoo, but the creature held his head and legs tight, stretching him out so his neck was fully exposed.

It was over quicker than he thought. The creatures left soon after, leaving him to feel the new ink in his skin. He brought a hand to his neck, wincing.

The cell he was in had a mirror, though it was more like a shard of glass. Dipper walked over to it and craned his neck to clearly see what had been carved into his skin.

6735AX, the tattoo read. The skin was red and irritated around it.

"I'm just a product." Dipper slumped to the floor, resting his head against the cold wall. "And to think I was about to get out of here - it's like I'm doomed to stay lost forever."

He had failed to reach Mabel, to get home, too many times. The harder he tried, the more hopeful he was, he was always pulled back into this multiverse hell he had ended up being dragged into.

The mystery of who actually pulled him into there had been pushed back in Dipper's mind, not prioritised over his current situation. He figured that if someone wanted him dead, he would be long deceased by now.

With a loud thunk, the lights in his cell died, and so did those around him. Dipper jumped, staring around in the dark.

As darkness descended, the screams and wails of misery from the other cells became more apparent, increasing in volume. Before Dipper had been able to block them out, but now they had become impossible to push away.

He curled in on himself, shivering as a gust of cold air attacked him. He tied to huddle for warmth in his jacket, but it did not seem to help. Soon he was completely numb, too exhausted to shiver.

"I gotta get out of here." Dipper muttered, rubbing the new tattoo on his neck. His voice was lost in the echoed screams and shouts of his inmates. "I need to get out before I get killed...for fucking – hu – human parts."

But for once, Dipper had no idea how he would achieve such a plan.

Okay yeah, this chapter is awful. To be honest I've had awful writers block and hence this took a long time to write in the first place. I genuinely don't know whether I want to continue with this story, as it hasn't received as much feedback as I had hoped for. Some story elements that I had planned I now dislike, and the stuff I really want to touch on comes a little later. I have to do all of this repetitive set up to get there, which is a pain to write.
This has also not been read over, it's midnight here rn. So sorry for any errors