Phantom Falls

20: Searching

The above artwork belongs to me. It took a little while, but I made a journal entry for the septem tigris. My cursive isn't super good, as I am self-taught and don't practice much, but I am pleased with the overall look of the entry. Sorry if the picture is a bit dark.

Jazz woke up slowly.

She'd been having a nightmare. A nightmare of being trapped inside of her own body while another conscious controlled her actions.

Only now, she realized that it had all been real.

Groaning, she blinked her eyes open. She was somewhere dark, and ropes cut into her wrists. She'd been gagged, and her ankles were tied as well.

Temporary relief coursed through her. She could control her own body again. That, at least, was something to be thankful for.

Her glad moment vanished when she felt someone whimpering beside her. Turning her head, she saw the figures of Mabel, Stan and Pacifica. The two Pines looked like they'd put up a good fight, at least, while the Northwest had scraped knuckles and a busted lip.

The only light that Jazz could see by was faintly green, and that's when she took in her surroundings. They were in a cave, at the back of which a pit sloped down into nothing. From the drop-off came a thin glow. At the other end of the cave, the entrance, a large boulder had been moved in front of their way out.

Jazz tapped her fingernails nervously against her palms. She'd been in her fair share of ghost fights, but she'd never been taken hostage or overshadowed. Being someone else's pawn was scarier than actually brawling with them. At least then you had free will.

She remembered the time that Danny had told her about Freakshow, the man with the ghost-controlling staff. He hadn't said much about it, just that being under such a spell was like sinking in quicksand. You could never escape such a deathtrap on your own; someone else had to save you, snap you out of it. You were completely dependent on others.

Now she understood. Being a puppet was horrible.

Of course, he'd overshadowed a few people, but he only did it when necessary and made an effort to make them forget that it had ever happened, especially after being controlled himself. Remembering something like that was not fun.

Yet because of her own inability to resist the overshadowing, she and three others were at the mercy of some insane ghost. She didn't know who it was, or why they would take hostages at all, but she didn't care. She just needed a way to contact Danny and get out of there.

Suddenly, Jazz felt the distinct impression that she was being watched.

It started as something faint, then intensified until she could actually feel another mind brushing against hers. It was malevolent, devoid of any remotely positive emotion. She shrunk from its mental contact.

It laughed. Oh, little Jazzy-pants, are you scared? a voice teased. Don't be. You're just a pawn on the chessboard. Not a threat. Your brother, however, is a knight, and his horse is death. Do you want to perish at his hands?

Even a pawn can topple the king! she thought back fiercely. And Danny would never hurt me.

Again, the voice chuckled. Neither of you have recognized me yet, it seems. Good. I can't wait to see the look on Daniel's face. As for him harming you . . . Well, we'll see how that turns out.

The presence disappeared in an instant, leaving Jazz feeling cold inside. Oh, Danny, she thought. What have you gotten yourself into this time?

* * *

"It's this way," Dipper said.

Danny blinked the raindrops out of his eyes. Apparently the boy had had a dream where some old enemy, Bill Cipher, had appeared and told him where to go. When he'd admitted this, Ford had immediately panicked.

"Dipper!" he'd shouted. "Why would you make a deal with Bill? What did he ask for in exchange?"

The boy had just shrugged with confusion, trying to keep his cool. "He wants us to go there. That's it."

To Danny's surprise, Ford had stopped protesting soon after. "I hate this, but there's nothing else we can do," he'd sighed. "But he's definitely up to something. We have to be careful."

Now, the halfa was grimacing in pain as he floated along beside them and Wendy. His chest hurt like crazy, and his ankle felt like it was on fire. He tried to push away thoughts of rest and giving up.

Dipper was leading them through the woods, apparently hearing Bill's voice telling him where to go. They'd all slept fitfully last night. The fact that the teen was half ghost had seemed to disturb Dipper, though whether it was because of his inhumanity or the secret he'd kept, Danny didn't know.

They all had to work together, though, and all four accepted it. No one was going to get anywhere without the others' help.

It was early afternoon, and the grey light shining down from the clouds made everything look bleak, like the world had been put through a camera filter. Although it had made them all very guilty, they'd slept late in order to gather strength in case anything happened.

Wendy suddenly stopped, holding up a hand to shush them.

Danny halted. He held his breath as his keen hearing picked up a low rumble.

The halfa's blood ran cold. He knew that noise. His hands clenched into fists.

The septem tigris stalked out of the woods, growling. How had it escaped the ice? It should've frozen to death.

Yet as it came closer, he saw raw red patches of skin damaged by the cold. Its eyeless face glared in his direction, as if it could sense his fear. Its lips curled, revealing the full length of its teeth.

Danny grabbed Wendy and Dipper's hands and pulled them a few yards away, leaving Ford to follow. The half-ghost left them and floated closer to the cat. He powered up his ecto rays.

"Scat, cat," he snarled. A terrible, terrible catchphrase, but he was stressed. He scowled and watched the septem tigris cautiously, waiting for it to make a move.

* * *

The creature didn't understand what he was saying, though, and it stalked around him. It remembered their last encounter all too well, but it still refused to leave its prey alive. Not even ice could stop it from tearing out the boy's throat. And then it would move on to kill the small girl, the one who smelled of processed sugar and overexcitement. The girl was with the pack leaders and the Beta, who was angry at the cat. Beta had snarled something about following orders . . . but the cat was out of control. It was on a killing spree, mauling every living thing in sight until it got what it wanted.

And what it wanted was the ghost and the girl dead.

Its dangerously long claws scarred the earth as it pounced at him, its massive, seven-toed paws reaching for his jugular. The halfa blasted it down with one of its hateful little rays of pure energy, burning its delicate skin.

He and the humans ran away, but the tigris wasn't about to let them escape for long. They would feel its pain tenfold, there was no doubt in its mind.