Humans were such peculiar creatures. Though the world had long existed without them, Bill could not remember a time as interesting as when they were around. There was just no creature like humans, none else who were driven only by mere animal instinct. No, humans had other forces controlling them, emotions that fueled their very being, and ideas and that kept them moving forward.
In a way, they were the closest creatures that Bill had ever found to him. Yet for all the emotions they carried, none had the power he did. A flick of their fingers neither could shake the earth nor strike fear in anyone's hearts. Dreams were mysteries to them, and they could only delve so deeply into their minds.
The humans were a constricted people, just on the edge of discovery yet forever powerless to gain their full potential.
At least most of them were.
A few, Bill had to question.
He had been watching the boy for a few years. He was a foolish young lad, driven by desire and an old red book.
I thought humans got smart and burnt that thing years ago, Bill thought, watching from the shadows. If he moved any closer, he feared detection; though Bill could hide himself from the human eye, a perceptive boy such as this could still easily notice him.
Bill's single eye widened, taking in the brown haired boy. He was on the thin side, with chocolate colored hair that flopped down his forehead and down his neck. There was a greasiness to his face, puberty having turned his formerly soft features sharp and covering his skin in a sea of pimples. Yet his eyes had not lost their great electric spark, nor did his hands ever slow while flipping pages. His curiosity had only increased since the day that Bill had first spotted him.
Part of the demon had almost hoped that the boy would realize what danger he was in. Gravity Falls wasn't a safe place; there was just no way to sugarcoat that fact. Yet there was also something tantalizing about the place as well, as if a siren's song beckoned the curious to explore the town's hidden depths.
Most were strong enough to ignore the song, and if not they could at least call upon their local society to help them forget about it.
This boy was not like most.
Dipper Pines, Bill thought. You're going to get yourself killed one day.
The boy continued flipping through pages, his eyes never slowing their constant movement or losing their intensity.
Oh little boy, Bill thought. Aren't you too old to believe in monsters?
The boy just kept on reading.
Humans were peculiar creatures.
Bill might have found himself the most peculiar one of all.
When the oblivion finally ended, Dipper found himself in darkness. There were no games, no elaborate decorations, no smoke and mirrors. Just darkness all around him and the feeling of something solid, though whether it was ground or not Dipper could not actually tell, beneath his feet. His hat was on his head and he had all his body parts; Dipper continually rubbed at his skin, checking to see if anything was there.
Perhaps this was how ghosts felt like. Lost, alone, unable to see even themselves.
If Bill wants to play hide and seek, Dipper thought, then maybe he'll have a hard time finding me.
Maybe - after all, he was the reason that Dipper was in this whole mess anyway.
Though the feeling of falling had vanished, the darkness had not. Each step was careful, the next one more precise than the last. At any moment Dipper could be falling again.
Dipper put a hand against his chest, feeling the soft fabric of his shirt. Just the thought of it falling again made his stomach twist.
Is this what Bill wanted? To trap him in darkness and leave him to wonder alone, aimlessly searching for something that he could not find? Maybe he wanted to find a door of some kind, a chamber leading the way out. But what if he found Mabel and the others instead? No, that wasn't as good as it seemed. It was bad enough that he was down there, his hands held out and scraping against the blackness. He didn't need his sister and friends wondering around aimlessly, lost and alone, searching for something that they could never even dream of finding.
"Hey, Bill!" Dipper shouted. He turned around and around in the darkness, repeating his original words until he was sure he had yelled into every corner of the darkness. "Games are supposed to have rules and meaning! Tell me what's going on!"
Dipper stood still, fists clenched and eyes wondering everywhere, as if the monster would actually be visible in the pitch blackness. He probably would considering the damn guy always seemed to want to make himself noticed.
"Hey, Bill!" Dipper repeated. "You said that you want to play with me! Why don't you come out and show me how it's done?"
Silence.
No light appeared in the darkness, nothing shifted the heavy blanket of blackness.
"Bill, I know that you can hear me!" Dipper's throat was raw, his voice seeming to be everywhere yet barely leaving his throat at all. He clenched his fists tighter. "Games aren't fun when you play them alone!"
Again, no reply came, whether from Bill or from anyone else.
"Mabel? Pacifica? Norman? Wendy?" Dipper ran frantically, no longer caring if he fell. If he fell again, maybe he could finally get somewhere. "Soos? Anyone? Is anyone here?"
His heart was racing, beating faster and faster against against his chest. At any moment, it threatened to rip through his rib cage.
Sweat poured down Dipper's face. He scampered through the darkness, wet and wheezing.
"Someone!"
His voice did not echo. When he was done speaking, his words vanished, almost as if he had never spoken them at all.
There was no other sound. Whatever Dipper's feet was touching didn't seem to make a clacking noise of any kind. Other than the feeling of something solid beneath him, there was nothing to pinpoint just what Dipper was standing on.
He turned, moving from one direction to the next. If he could just find a way out then maybe he could at least fight Bill. If not, Bill would have to show himself eventually.
He had to.
"Bill! Bill!" Dipper shrieked. "Bill!"
He never thought that he would be happy to see the demon. And he wouldn't, not by any means. Still, seeing him would be better than simply running around, alone and unsure through the endless darkness that Bill had left him in.
"Bill!" Dipper parroted for what felt like the thousandth time. "Bill!"
There used to be rational answers. Here?
He doubted Bill knew what the word "rational" meant.
"Bill!" Dipper could barely get more than a whisper out.
"Jonesy, do you want to lose your eyes? Get yourself killed?" From the corner of her eyes, Coraline watched Wybie throw his hands into the air. Beyond that, he did not move forward, as if his feet were glued to the floor.
Now that she was actually through the door, which was all the more smaller and more cramped than it was before (as if it were nothing but an old sock, tight to the skin but the same as it ever was when first worn), she didn't need him trying to stop her. Right then, it was hard enough to keep herself moving forward.
Before the Jones family had moved further up north in Oregon, they had lived a while longer in The Pink Palace. It had been a nice building, holding both an antique charm and lively atmosphere. The inhabitants were certainly interesting, giving the house a life that the Other Mother never could have tried to create or match.
Whoever that monster girl was, she was not The Other Mother. That didn't make her any less dangerous, but at least she was not actually the beldam. Coraline knew her all too well.
"Jonesy, this is ridiculous! What the hell do you think you're doing?"
"I'm doing the only thing that I can," Coraline replied, moving further inside. The blue entrance seemed to glow from an unknown light source; years before, she had never questioned it. Now, she could only wonder just what kept the place lit.
This isn't the real place, Coraline told herself. It can't be. Whatever this place is, it's at least not the real thing.
Coraline bit her lip. Just as she had known the beldam, she had also known The Pink Palace, and this was not it. It was a good copy, but it was not the real thing.
You killed a witch when you were nine, Coraline reminded herself. Do something with your life this year besides getting A's on your report card.
She moved faster, until her feet were out of the room and fully in the entry way. Ahead, the small door sat, waiting once again to be opened. There were no rats this time, the entry empty except for Coraline herself.
"Jonesy, why are you doing this?" Wybie shrieked.
"It's the only thing that I can do." She moved faster, ignoring the squeeze and focusing on the door. If she could just get to it and open it...
Well, then she would just have to face whatever lay beyond it.
Norman blinked, once, twice, and then so many times that he could barely tell when his eyes were open or when they were closed. When he finally opened them again, Massachusetts hung before him. The sky was slowly darkening and a chill wind sent shivers up his spine and goosebumps up his arms.
His clothes, the same that he had worn at the party, were too thin for something like this. He bit his lips.
"Norman?"
Norman turned his head. "Salma? What happened?"
She rubbed her head. "I know you always want me to help you with your homework, but I don't always have the answer to everything."
Perhaps, if things still made sense, then Norman would laugh. Salma's tone was as dry as ever, dead set and as cold as the breeze.
"Are you getting a sense of deja vu?" Norman asked.
"I'm getting a sense that something is wrong." Salma picked herself up from the ground and began to wipe herself off. Behind her thick rimmed glasses, her eyebrows lowered. Her nose wrinkled. "Norman, how did we get here?"
Norman didn't reply. For a moment longer, he lay on the hard concrete and stared at the sky. There was something about this place, the slightly cloudy sky, the cold breeze... This wasn't just any ordinary fall night in Blythe Hollow.
"We couldn't have just been teleported halfway across the country. That's impossible; things like that don't just happen."
You said the same thing a few years ago about ghosts, Norman thought, but refrained from commenting. He had bigger problems to deal with.
He sat up, looking around. Everything was the same as it had been before the centuries old textile factory shut down, before most of the citizens who didn't make a living selling tacky witch memorabilia scattered across the country.
And yet...
The town had to have changed in some ways. People had gathered together, pushed for change to get new jobs. There at least should have been signs of some sort of new construction, even for just a small project.
Norman pulled himself up and stood on weary, shaking legs. A lump was forming in his throat and a tightness in his stomach. It didn't take a genius like Salma to figure out that something was wrong, but still...
Salma's sudden loud gasp nearly made Norman jump.
"Norman, you need to come see this."
Norman didn't turn for a moment, unsure of what to do. His eyes could only watch the sky, his vision filling with an all too familiar green lightning.
"Norman!" Salma repeated, her voice even louder than before.
When he saw the paper in her hand, a flyer that was dated from years before, his stomach tightened.
Green lighting could be explained - couldn't it? A natural phenomenon?
Waking up in the east side when only hours before the two were in the west side? There was probably a reason somewhere.
Blythe Hollow keeping ancient flyers? No way.
The lightning only grew more fierce, flashing against the sky and for a moment turning Norman's vision into a world of bright green. Then it was gone, leaving Norman with his head turned towards the sky and a continuous echo of thunder in his ears.
Dipper had never thought that he would be so happy to see Bill.
There were no ghosts anywhere on the streets, at least from what Norman had seen. He and Salma had been searching for what felt like hours and neither could find anyone. His legs ached and heart beat a little too fast in his chest.
"This shouldn't be happening," Salma said for what felt like the thousandth time.
The clouds above had turned a heavy green.
He supposed they both knew what was coming next. They had landed on a certain date in the past, one that Norman knew he would never fully forget (as much as he sometimes hoped otherwise).
This was the night that had given him new friends and closer family bonds.
This was the night that had kept him awake for weeks on end.
This was the night that the town finally learned to appreciate him.
This was the night that he nearly lost his life multiple times.
This was the night that made the bullying at school stop.
This was the night that Agitha had seen through him and him her, the night where he looked into a mirror's face.
The night where she had offered him her help, her companionship in a world that seemed determined to give him neither - the night that he had nearly said yes.