Chapter 3

Dipper turned out the lights, saying 'goodnight' to his twin before closing his eyes to fall asleep. Thankfully, the book was gone, so he didn't have to worry about it when he tried to sleep. Maybe it came and went with his will. Or perhaps Bill took it back for some reason. Dipper didn't have a way to know at the moment.

Instead, he thought back to his stealthy entrance, the way he made his way inside the Shack with a simple wave to Wendy and dodged his sister's pursuance by hiding in the bathroom until she left him to his thing. Dipper had stashed the items in an old cardboard box he found in the attic, away from prying eyes and hopefully where no one would bother to look. You'd better keep your promise, Bill . . . the boy murmured in his mind, thoughts beginning to slur with the onslaught of drowsiness. The blackness engulfed him, smothering him in nothingness. Keep them safe . . . Don't hurt them . . . Let me help . . . while . . . I . . . can . . . He couldn't remember anything after that, falling fast asleep.

Yeah, yeah, of course I will, kid! Bill was in his dreams or rather . . . nightmares. Bill did need his form of entertainment . . . and the nightmares and dreams would keep coming as long as he was around. It was funny to watch the kid scream and run in fear and terror. Bill had the weirdest sense of humor, that only demons would understand.

Brambles scratched at the boy's skin as he ran, pelting through the dark undergrowth in his attempt to escape. To flee. To get as far away as possible and into safety. If there was safety.

Dipper could hardly see anything in front of his nose, breath coming out in ragged gasps as he bolted in sheer terror. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no!

The beast seemed to get closer, almost ready to rip him into tiny shreds and boil his insides in a lava-cooked stew of pain. It would only take a second now. He would be gone and the monster the victor, gobbling up his spoils and hungry for more. It would be a massacre when it reached the town, innocents bitten and tortured, squashed and smitten with hardly any effort. Everything would be in ruins.

Despair would litter the small city until it could stay no longer, seething and bubbling of wrath until all life had evaporated away, wisps of forgotten memories blown away in the wind. Then it would go for more somewhere else, dissatisfied with the low quantity and finding motive to feed itself on another, blood-soaked saliva dripping, sharpened claws ripping . . .

Dipper found his terrifying thoughts and predictions to be enough to paralyze him and the boy tripped and fell under his stiffened tracks, catching himself on a tree. He was curled up on the cold, muddy ground, back to the rough bark of a pine tree as he cowered, listening, waiting.

That thing was going to get him. He could hear it trampling through the forest, nearing him. Its growling breath was harsh. Worse. Getting closer. The ferns in front of the tween parted, the only thing separating him from that horror. Malicious eyes peeked out from the innermost leaf. Dipper's heart raced, his body soaked with a nervous sweat and brown eyes stricken with fear. Then, he tilted his head back and screamed.

Bill laughed as he snapped his fingers, the monster disappearing, and he seemed to glow brighter, as if the fear was energizing him. "Well, hello, Pine Tree. I see you have enjoyed my little surprise! Ahahaha! My little nightmare creation of fun! This is certainly entertaining!" Bill floated down toward the boy, his yellow glow making the the dark mindscape seem a bit brighter.

"B-bill?" Dipper stammered weakly out, glancing around to make sure the beast was really gone before pulling himself up. This is . . . a dream? He frowned, watching as the land around him changed color under the demon's bright light. It certainly doesn't feel like one. The twelve year-old's dreams — and nightmares — were usually vivid to the point where he couldn't distinguish them from the waking world. But the more he thought about it he realized that if Bill Cipher was here then it couldn't be anything else.

Fury began to overcome his terror, slowly bringing himself to his senses. "You're evil," Dipper spat, angry that he would manipulate his mind to believe he were in danger. To laugh at him. "That was cruel. I thought maybe you would leave me alone because I spent my entire day slaving over keeping your secret safe, not to mention I've been lying to my friends and family just so I can get you a body! Don't you at least care enough to let me sleep peacefully at night? You really don't deserve any of this, you monster!"

The brunet clenched his fists, breathing heavily as he looked Bill directly in the eye, confidence not faltering at all. "Maybe I should just let someone know about this. Maybe I should stop getting you ingredients and give you a soiled sock puppet instead. That wouldn't break the deal. I could do that, couldn't I?"

Bill stared at him, seemingly thinking for a minute, then started laughing. "Kid, you should know me by now. I've always been evil; it's not like I'm going to change. The deal you made said if I didn't hurt your family and you, I could use you for entertainment and you would make me a human vessel. So no, you can't give me a puppet and call it over, plus you've already started by buying some ingredients so if you gave me a puppet that would be against the deal. Plus, I didn't hurt you, physically . . . and you are entertaining me, in the form of nightmares, of course!" He giggled and floated back up a bit.

Dipper scowled the best he could, loathing the demon more than usual. "Hurting me involves mental and emotional aspects as well! You should know that!" he huffed, eyes narrowed. "Your sick entertainment isn't worth the trouble I'm going through trying not to permanently lose my sanity thanks to a monster that doesn't even exist! So if you're even going to do anything in my mind then I suggest you have some decency about it! Gosh, I hate you so much right now!" The twelve year-old crossed his arms, glaring at Bill. Who does he think he is?

Bill giggled, "Why, I'm Bill Cipher, of course! And I can do whatever I please!" To prove a point his arm stretched out and poked Dipper on the nose. "Now stop your yelling and let's have fun, kid! Plus your sanity would be a good thing to lose. You don't need it; I'm just fine see?" Bill laughed insanely.

I keep forgetting that he can hear my thoughts, Dipper frowned, wiping Bill's presence off of his nose like there was residue from the touch. "Yeah, I can see that perfectly," he retorted, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"And your idea of fun hasn't proven well to me yet. So far, I see that it can't be trusted. Neither can you. Also, I think you're forgetting who's in charge here. I can do whatever I please in my mindscape now that I'm aware so if I want to be somewhere else — away from you — I can." To prove his point, Dipper willed himself away and disappeared with ease, reappearing in a moonlit clearing in the forest that was apparently far away from where he had been before. Take that, Bill.

"Ah well, one weakness that you figured out is not enough. I'm still the master of the mind and you . . . are not." Bill appeared behind him again, "But that whole battle in Stan's mind, if you haven't figured out by now since I gave you a ton of clues, was fake." Bill floated around while his triangular body flashed images as a flashback.

"Everything you do is fake, isn't it?" he snapped back with a grimace. "And there's still no point of being able to do things in the mindscape since none of it is real. I still have more power than you, even here! Can't you just give up already?" Dipper turned around, not wanting to look at Bill as he replicated past events. "You're not as powerful as you think you are. Torturing a . . . a

child doesn't prove anything. Really, I think you're weaker than anyone else. Without your awareness in dreams, you couldn't do anything."

Bill was silent for a while, for once not saying anything. He was unsure whether to get mad at the kid and make him suffer, or admit the kid was right. Of course, being a demon, he hated admitting that a mere child was right. His yellow color flickered red and back to yellow. Then red again. He stayed red. "Look, Pine Tree, I'm more powerful than you think. You may not believe me now, but during the apocalypse, you will pay for what you have done! You will bow down like all the human of this earth! The Darkness is coming! I will not have mercy on you humans."Bill's demon voice echoed and boomed in the dreamscape.

Dipper couldn't help but feel chills flash through him, pulsating with foreboding terror. The boy tried not to let that shake his confidence, though, turning back to look at the crimson demon. "Y-you can say what you want, Bill, but it's all talk. The only reason you can claim to have that power is because I'm making you a body. Without what I'm doing for you, you wouldn't even exist. You need me, Bill. You need a twelve year-old kid to do things because you can't do them yourself. Do you call that all-powerful? I don't think so."

"Really, Dipper, you want to try me?" Bill seemed to turn a darker red, glaring with his now dark black one eye, staring straight into the kids soul and mind. His form was sure to be intimidating, but that was the point.

Dipper cringed slightly, dread setting in at the sight of Bill's anger. If he was going to stay on the dream demon's good side, it was too late now. That opportunity was over. Steadying himself the best he could, he replied as calmly as possible, ignoring the shake in his voice, "I-it doesn't matter. E-even if you did something t-terrible in my mindscape, you'd still be exactly the . . . the same. It's all a dream. And until I'm done with my part of the deal, you won't be able to prove . . . a-anything. So there's no use trying." The boy felt insignificant and small under Bill's gaze but he held his own, willing the cowardice away. I'm in charge here, he reminded himself. Me. Not Bill. Not Bill . . .

"Ah, but that's where you are wrong, Pine Tree." Bill laughed. "I can't hurt you, but you never said anything about other demons. A few still owe me from deals. I'm sure they would be happy to torture you or your sister! I'll just snap my fingers and call them." Bill was still red as he turned around, floated up and snapped his fingers.

He wouldn't . . . Dipper's eyes widened when Bill snapped. He couldn't! Demons aren't real! They can't hurt us, not without a vessel . . . Can they? The brunet hissed through his teeth, not wanting to bow down and plead for mercy. It was his pride that kept him rooted to the spot, waiting for something to happen. Or not happen. Maybe a monster was summoned into his shared room at this very moment, ready to hurt him and his sister in their sleep. Or maybe Bill was bluffing, although by the redness of him, Dipper didn't think so. If Mabel was injured because of him . . . The boy shook the thought away. That couldn't happen. He wouldn't let it.

"Bill, please . . ." Dipper choked out, feeling low. "Please don't . . . I-I'm . . . sorry. I won't say . . . that again." He felt tears of desperation well up but didn't allow them to fall, not wanting to be that submissive. He tried to stay strong. "You're right, Bill. You're right. I'm sorry."

Bill turned back to him, flickering back to yellow. "Good. But consider this a warning. I won't let you off a second time. And I'm not bluffing," Bill growled out. "There are other demons, most of them can get in the physical world. You'd best take care of yourself, Pine Tree." Bill waved his hand and Dipper woke up.

The boy's eyes popped open almost immediately, the comfortable and familiar appearance of the Shack reminding him that it had been a dream. A easy one to remember, at that. Bill's warning rang out in his head, loud and clear. 'You'd best take care of yourself, Pine Tree.' Dipper took in a shaken breath, turning his head to glance at his sister.

She was fast asleep, her pig resting in her arms. Her blankets rose and fell evenly, brown hair splayed out over her face, her features covered. Mabel seemed unburdened, though, something Dipper could not say of himself. He wiped the nervous sweat from his forehead, surprised to find traces of tears that had trickled down his face. So much for staying strong. He must have been crying in the real world while his mind kept its image. It didn't help his ego at all.

Sitting up, he fought to erase traces of his distressing encounter with the triangle, looking out blankly at the door, early morning shadows cast upon the wood. It was probably around six-o'clock, hardly the time a twelve year-old boy should be getting up in summer, but Dipper felt that he wouldn't be able to sleep if he tried. Instead, he got up, leaving his bed unmade, and tiptoed out of the bedroom, careful not to wake his sister. Mabel could be a very light sleeper and he wanted her to get her rest.

Making it out, he allowed his pace to return to normal, bare feet stepping on the old wooden planks like they were nothing. I can clean up later, he decided, going into the kitchen to get himself breakfast to take his mind off things. Settling with some cereal and a Pitt cola, he took a seat at the dinner table, allowing himself to enjoy the quiet.

Stan walked out from another long night in the basement as he walked into the kitchen. He sure hoped some coffee and food would give him energy for the day. Stan saw that Dipper was up early. "Morning Dipper, why are you up so early?" he asked, yawning and starting to make some coffee.

"Good morning, Grunkle Stan. I had a . . . bad dream. Didn't want to go back to sleep, that's all," he responded, stuffing another bite of the sweet cornflakes into his mouth. I haven't heard a word from Bill yet. I hope he's not mad anymore . . . Dipper thought, swallowing. I really don't want to deal with the kinds of nightmares I'll be having when he's in a bad mood. I'll be sleep deprived. "Why are you up so early? I thought you liked to sleep in when we don't have customers."

"I uh . . . couldn't sleep. But I'll be fine!" Stan nodded and smiled at Dipper as he drank his coffee and started to eat some food tiredly. He lied, of course, having been up most of the night in the basement, watching the portal and waiting for it to find the right dimension.

Dipper lifted an eyebrow at Stan's suspicious cheerfulness but didn't press, returning his attention to his food. He would rather not know what men nearing their sixties liked to do early in the morning. Especially if they wanted to lie to kids about it. Downing the rest of his breakfast, Dipper wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, standing from his seat. The boy took the bowl and set it in the dishwasher, a regular practice, wondering how he should spend his time.

I normally would be reading the journal if I got up at this time, but now I don't want to, the brown-headed boy observed, surprised. It almost seems . . . unimportant and a waste of time to be doing that now. Wow. Never thought I'd say that. Or think that. Dipper looked at his great uncle, considering his next saying. Should I ask to go to the store again? I don't have the ingredient list because Bill isn't here but I remember that I still need to get a lot of water. Will that make Bill happy again? Do I need to get more water?

He found that that particular request was stuck in his throat, not wanting to come out just yet. Nah . . . I'll wait. He'll think there's something up if I ask to go so soon. Maybe I should see what's on TV or something. "I'm gonna go and watch TV, I think," Dipper announced. "Talk to you after you're done eating, Grunkle Stan." He gave a light smile, turning towards the living room.

A hidden pressure lingered at the back of his mind as he watched, though, hinting at . . . whatever it was trying to tell him to do. Dipper did his best to ignore it, drowning his worries in the senseless nonsense that people put on public television. It worked for only the moment.