Wendy's dreams had started to become nightmares.
She kept seeing flashes of disturbing events that made her more stressed than usual—mainly about the twins.
Wendy didn't want the summer to end, and that's basically what it was about; late and somewhat-warm July was slowly being consumed into cool August days. Not that she would normally mind, because, hey, it sucks when it's hot out. She liked the cold. But the twins. Her summer.
The night she realized the circumstances was the worst of all. She was in a large room quite like her own house. The fireplace burned and crackled in the silence, illuminating Wendy's freckled face. It was just enough light for her to see, but all she could see was the fireplace. It was empty. Just a big room of empty, until she glanced on the ground. An ax lay there. It was hers; she picked it up. Even though it was a dream, the ax felt real in her hands, like she was actually getting ready to chop some lumber.
"Hello?" Wendy called out, her voice bouncing off the log walls.
She thought she was alone, until she sensed movement behind her. A shiver went down her spine, and she turned to see what could be there.
"Why hello, Red!"
Of course. A floating triangle.
"Don't call me that." Wendy shook her head. "You're... Bill?"
"Right you are!" He zoomed closer to her face, squinting his singular eye. "So nice to finally meet you one-on-one. I've heard a l-o-o-o-t about you from Pine Tree, and his thoughts. I can see why he likes you. You have a good vessel."
"That is totally not creepy at all." Wendy's eyes were wide, her teeth clenched.
Bill threw his arms out to his sides. "Exactly! So anyways, you're probably wondering why I'm talking to you. I mean, I have better things to do."
"Yeah, so do I," Wendy told him. "It's called sleep."
"Beings like myself don't do that. Sucks for you humans, soul always stuck inside your form... But oh! Yeah, right! I wanted to talk to you about that journal Dipper has—"
"Oh, no way," Wendy told him immediately. "Is that really why you're here?"
"We could be a great team! You know Pine Tree would listen to you. And you're pretty sneaky. I've been watching over you lately. I dunno how Stanford doesn't know that the roof is where you disappear to all the time!"
"Well, I'm not helping you. Not ever." Wendy looked past Bill and into the fire crackling behind him. Why would he ask her, of all people, to betray her best friends?
Bill made a gesture that would probably be shaking his head—if he had a head. "Oh, Wendy. Wendy, Wendy, Wendy." He placed a hand around her shoulder, pulling himself against her. Wendy's chest tightened from discomfort just as he said, "You have no idea what's gonna happen to the poor Pines family, do you?"
He released her and floated high into the air. "I guess you don't have to agree with my plans. But remember..." Bill's form became large and red, a bulbous eye dominating his facial plane (Wendy figured that was the only word to be used to describe what would be a face, if Bill wasn't a triangle) while he said the last words. "You'll help me out one way or another. You need it."
Then Bill disappeared, the fire died, and Wendy became very disoriented. She dropped the ax. This happened all at once. When Wendy shut her eyes to blink, she opened them and found she was in bed at home. Light was streaming through the crack between the two curtains of her window. It was the morning. She had work.
Her heart was racing.