Knife To Meet You

Over the course of the walk, Dipper learned this man's name was Fred. And he was apparently almost always in debt to someone or something, so he was kinda used to being attacked and payment demanded. When they reached his house, he said that the last place he had seen the pistol was in the drawer next to his bed, but maybe he took it out for cleaning once and put it down somewhere? He really didn't know.

Before Dipper could ask how one misplaced an entire gun, he stepped into the house and saw the clutter everywhere, and it all suddenly made sense.

What an absolute sty, Bill commented in disgust. How can people live like this?

I don't know... is that a half-full jug of milk sitting next to the wall?

Let's find this thing and get out of here.

Dipper pushed past Fred and went to find the bedroom. It was a small house, so it wasn't difficult. He searched the table next to the bed and found nothing but magazines that he really didn't need to see. He slapped the drawer shut and lifted the mattress, checking under it, before diving under the bed.

"Yo man, I'd be careful under there if I was you," Fred called.

Dipper hissed in pain as something sharp cut into his fingers, and pulled them back to find a mouse trap stuck to them.

Could be worse, it could have been a rat trap, Bill said.

Dipper pulled the bar up and freed his hand, tossing the trap aside. After finding a veritable treasure trove of underwear and socks, and a herd of dust bunnies, he decided the gun wasn't under here and crawled back out.

Be right back, Bill told him.

Dipper continued looking, while Fred stood awkwardly in the doorway.

"You don't have to watch, as soon as I find it I'm leaving," Dipper said.

"Right, just... uh, I'm gonna go heat up some tater tots in the microwave, you want some?"

"No thanks."

"All right but if you change your mind, just holler at me." He finally left.

Dipper shook his head and threw open the door to the closet. And promptly got hit in the head with a rolled up sleeping bag. As he was shoving it back in, he heard Bill's voice again.

Okay, so I searched the house and it's actually in the living room. There's a movie cabinet that he like never gets into considering all the dust on it, and it's sitting inside.

Dipper closed the door and returned to the living room. As he walked past the kitchen, he heard the microwave running and off-tune whistling, as well as the clinking of glass bottles. Finding the cabinet Bill mentioned was easy, and when he swung it open, sure enough, there was the old pistol sitting in a pile of dust, with VHS tapes behind it. He picked it up and examined it.

Oh, that's pretty. Tell Fred that you'll be leaving now, and next time, don't make deals he doesn't intend to keep.

The boy headed to the kitchen, poking his head in and waving the pistol. "Hey, I found it. I'm leaving now. Next time, if you're going to make a deal with a demon, make sure you actually have what you're going to promise it."

"Yeah, yeah, I've learned my lesson." Fred took a foam plate out of the microwave. It was covered with tater tots and slightly melted around the edges. "You really don't want one of these? They good."

"I'll pass. And hey, if you know anyone else that deals with Bill, warn them. Because he's not just going to intimidate people. He's going to move on to torture and then murder."

"Well that's not good. I think I know some peeps... I'll let 'em know."

"Great. Okay, bye. And thanks for the gun." Dipper left the house, sighing with relief.

We should have just murdered him, Bill said. Souls are more useful than silver...

What do you do with souls?

I'll show you later. For now, I want that pistol. Hold it out.

Dipper held it up, and everything turned gray as Bill manifested. He took the weapon and examined it, nodding. "Yes, fantastic. Oh, the memories attached to this thing. It has seen a lot." He lowered his hands, but the gun remained floating in the air. Slowly, it dissolved, turning into a blue mist that seemed to be absorbed into his body.

"That's a weird way to get energy," Dipper said.

"Maybe to you, but it works. Like I said, any object with significance can do this. And it doesn't have to be objects. I can use blood too. In fact... we're going after someone else tonight. Someone who did owe me blood and chickened out on giving it. I mean, is it so hard to just take a knife and cut open your palm, spilling your blood into a cup or something? I didn't even ask for much. A literal measuring cup, and I'd be satisfied. I only recovered some memories for her that she had lost after a night of heavy drug use."

"Uh... I don't think you'll want that blood."

"It'll be fine. Anyway, she just wanted memories, I went into her mind and got them back for her. And she still isn't giving me that blood. Let's go visit her."

"Something tells me that you're not gonna ask her to cut herself..."

"I hope you're carrying one of your many knives, Pine Tree."

"I feel like a criminal," Dipper muttered as he pulled the strings of his jacket, tightening the hood to effectively hide his face.

When you enter just go straight into the living room and to the couch, she's passed out on it. This house is technically her boyfriend's but he's off partying in a nearby town so no one will be here to help her.

Is everyone who makes deals with you some kind of druggie or alcoholic?

Actually no, there are plenty of intelligent, sophisticated people who deal with me. Of course, they usually make much more interesting deals, with higher prices. And think they're clever enough to avoid paying me back. They move far away or change their names or even use magical protection... I'll be taking you to meet some of them very soon, but for now, the stupid people are the easiest to take care of.

Dipper tried the doorknob and found it was unlocked, and let himself in. He caught a unique smell that he recognized as marijuana, and briefly remembered that time he caught Robbie with a joint and had used it as blackmail material for weeks.

He shook his head and focused, sneaking into the living room and to the couch. The lights were off and the TV was showing static. The remote laid on the floor nearby.

That is definitely her, Bill said as Dipper examined the sleeping woman.

I feel really awkward sneaking around some woman's house.

You're about to feel more than awkward. Now wake her up and tell her why you're here.

Dipper took in a deep breath to compose himself, immediately regretted it when the smell made him dizzy, and decided to just get this over with as quickly as possible before he got a contact high. "Wake up!"

"I wasn't sleepin', honey," she said in a slurred voice, raising her head. Her eyes seemed to take way too long to focus on him, and she frowned. "Uh, what's with the hoodie get up? Ya hiding that pretty face?" She giggled and reached toward him, but he grabbed her wrist. It didn't seem to bother her. "Ooh, you wanna play like that? Oh, is this one of those dirty roleplays where you're the burglar and I'm the helpless virgin?"

Ooh, feisty, Bill laughed. I like her.

Dipper resisted the urge to puke and said, "I'm not who you think I am. I'm here on behalf of Bill Cipher."

She tilted her head. "Bill... now where have I heard that name..."

Dipper let go of her arm and held up his hands, making a triangle with them.

Recognition crossed her features. "Oh, Cipher!" She sat up, scrambling back. "The triangle with the eye!"

"Yep, that one. Apparently you owe him some blood?"

"Oh, uh... about that, see... I tried but... it makes me feel sick just thinking about making myself bleed. But if there's anything else I can do..."

Dipper put his hand on her shoulder and shoved her against the back of the couch, taking out his knife with the other. When he flicked it open, her eyes widened. "Nope, he wants the blood," he said. "Now we can make this clean, or we can make it messy. Either way works for him."

Threatening! Good, very good!

"I'll call the cops," she replied, voice shaking.

"Not if you can't get to the phone." Dipper lowered the knife, considering where he wanted to slice.

Make sure you have something to collect it in. Also, go for the leg. You can get a pretty big cut into the thigh and it'll still heal, but it will definitely bleed. Heh, you should remember that from the wyvern trying to eat you.

Dipper looked around and located a red Solo cup laying near the couch, and decided that would have to do.

Lift it up, Bill joked as Dipper grabbed it.

"Okay, just hold still while I make a quick incision," Dipper ordered, and before the woman had time to react, he scraped the very tip of the knife into the side of her leg, putting just enough pressure on it to split the skin.

She flinched and screamed for help, and in a panic, Dipper did the first thing that came to mind and slapped her. She quickly stopped, eyes brimming with tears as she stared at him, and it occurred to him that he probably wasn't the first to do that to her.

"Sorry," he said quietly, lowering his hand and putting it near the cut, applying pressure to try and squeeze more blood out. He held the cup below the stream, watching it slowly fill. "But I have to do this."

"Are you going to kill me?" she whimpered.

He shook his head. "No. All I need from you is blood. Once I get this, I'll be on my way. If you had just done this yourself, I wouldn't be here right now."

She silently watched him, and he felt guilty as she wiped tears off her face.

Oh boy, if you feel guilty doing this, I can only imagine what you'll be like when you actually have to kill someone.

Don't remind me. Is this enough?

Hmm... get like another inch, and then it should be good.

Dipper waited for the cup to fill up just a little more, and then took the woman's hand, pressing her palm to the gash. "Go get a towel or something and apply pressure to this. Once it the bleeding stops, clean it out with soap and water, and disinfectant if you have any. Actually, just go ahead and take a full shower. And don't do drugs, they're bad for you and your income could be going to something so much better like nice clothes or good food. Maybe books. Try reading more books." He backed up, and she just sat there, staring at him with blood leaking out between her fingers. "And don't make deals with demons. Unless you plan on keeping them. Okay, bye." He hurried out.

Geeze, you were doing so well at first. Got really awkward at the end. Try not to do so much talking. Like before, Bill appeared to him, and he gave him the cup.

"I don't think I'm suited for this," Dipper said, walking away from the house with the demon following. "I can't just hurt people like that and not feel anything."

"It doesn't matter what you feel, as long as you do it. Yeah, you felt bad but you got the job done. And there was no wasting time, you told her why you were there and got what you came for. And you looked pretty confident doing it. Your voice never broke. I think you're ready for something a bit bigger."

"Look, this is only my first day doing this, I... I need some time to adjust." Dipper couldn't believe he was about to do this, but he really needed a break. "Please?"

"Hmm, well..." Bill considered it, tossing the cup aside and looking at him. Dipper gave him an imploring look. "Okay, fine. That's all for tonight. But you're making up for it tomorrow night. I'm gonna go find some good victims for you. You think roughing people up is hard? Just wait until I make you seriously injure them. Or kill them."

The boy's stomach churned just thinking about that. He put his head in his hand and walked faster. "I need to get back home, I... I think the stuff in that house gave me a headache..."

"Yeah, don't be surprised if you start feeling loopy and hungry before you get back. That was some pretty high quality stuff. If she takes your advice and starts spending her money on more beneficial things, she'll be eating like a king. Or queen, I guess."

Dipper just nodded.

"Okay I can see when I'm not wanted. Have a nice walk home, I'm gonna take off."

Color flooded back into the town, and Dipper stumbled as he woke up. He looked around, dazed, and realized he must have been sleepwalking ever since he left the house. The Mindscape was so strange... He shook his head and kept going. As he walked, he took his knife out, looking at the blood on the tip, and just thinking about where that had come from made him nauseous. And the deeds he carried out were only going to get worse...

He sighed and wiped the knife off against his jacket before pocketing it, and finally took his hood down, running his fingers through his hair and looking up at the stars. What has he gotten himself into?