Of all the children locked up in the empty warehouse, bound together by tight ropes in the middle of a chalk-drawn circle, Leigh was the only one who wasn't shaking like a leaf.

As her friends began to cry or closed their eyes in a vain attempt to forget their current predicament, the young girl watched with a keen eye as their captors sketched out intricate patterns on the cold dusty floor. She took deep breaths and tried to stay calm, though she could hear her heartbeat racing. There had to be something she could use to save herself here, some detail that would let her escape in the nick of time just like the heroes in all those stories her family always told… And, as she watched, Leigh began to piece together what she was not supposed to know and realize why her group of compatriots had been brought here on this cool summer evening.

"Hey. You."

Leigh looked up from the etchings she had been studying into the wavering blue eyes of one of her captors.

"What are you looking at?"

She gulped as she struggled to think of a proper response. "Well, I was just… I think that heart looks kinda funny."

The robed person grunted and walked away, but not before stopping to scrape away and redraw the lopsided heart.

As the preparations continued, Leigh made sure to avoid drawing attention to herself again, but still quietly continued surveying the scene. The other kids whispered wild rumors to one another, ignoring Leigh's reassurances. And why wouldn't they? She had never bothered telling them that she had dealt with the paranormal much more than the others' occasional run-ins with gnomes or mermaids… and, truth be told, she wasn't entirely sure of her own claims, as her quiet, high-pitched voice made all too clear. She couldn't tell if the signs she was picking up on meant that the danger which seemed so clear to them was just an illusion… or if things were even worse than the others imagined.

Finally, just as the ceremony was about to start (how many hours does it take to draw a simple circle?), Leigh had to speak up.

"You should use other candles."

The world seemed as though it had been put on hold. Leigh could feel the weight of dozens of eyes, confused and hostile and skeptical, watching her every movement. Between the pressure and the candle smoke, her eyes started to water.

"They should be smaller. And less… smelly." The smell of burning cinnamon was overpowering. If they were going to do a ritual using candles, they should have at least made their own, not cleared out the discount shelf at the nearest boutique. At least they'd bothered to take them out of the original glass jars, though their scent gave away the candles' origin as clearly as any label.

The other children murmured to one another, hiding their panicked words from Leigh's ears, though the few phrases she could decipher were not promising. The robed ones, after a few shook their heads, silently returned to their work as if nothing had disturbed them. Nothing was done about the candles. They probably didn't even have back-ups, the amateurs.

Just after the candles were lit, one final symbol was drawn on the ground, surrounding the circle in which the children were being held prisoner. Leigh had a poor vantage point, stuck as she was in the center of both the circle and this newly-added symbol, but what she could see of it was enough to make her break out into a grin, her almost-suppressed laughter covered up by the cultists' butchered Latin.

It was a pine tree.

And the demonic figure that emerged as the chanting died down, the one that the children's robed captors bowed before, was one that Leigh had seen many a time before.

She turned her head and gave the demon a toothy smile.

"Grunkle Dipper!"

Leigh met the glance of her beloved great-uncle, and as he turned back towards the cultists who had summoned him, Dipper's eyes glowed red.

And then Leigh knew that everything would be just fine.