It's a corpse. The remains of what was probably the greatest evil he had ever known. Dippers mind repeated this over and over. A corpse. Yes. This whole time its been here undiscovered and untouched. A corpse. A corpse.

A grave.

"I don't..." Dipper said a bit quieter than he would like. He felt something akin to refrigerator horror.

Stans hand fell on his back, it was warm and almost gentle. It then began pushing him forward. Dipper moved methodically as the moonlight from above brushed over him. It illuminated the area in a way that seemed to strip it of every color save for a light eerie blue. But not completely, no, if you looked close enough you could see the color of the vines caressing the ends of the body of the statue.

"Are you scared?" Stan asked. He sounded entirely too pleased with Dippers reaction.

"No. I'm not." he answered steadily. It didn't make sense for him to be scared. He had done too much and seen too much to be afraid. "How do you know about this place?"

"It's not something I could ever forget. No matter how many years pass." Stan replied. There as something unrefined and cold near the end of his words.

It's a corpse. It's a grave. It's a corpse. It's a grave. Dipper squeezed his eyes shut and let out a quick breath. This shouldn't be digging into him as much as it was. It just that there was something forbidden about all this. He was not afraid. He was not afraid.

"Is this what's causing it? The fear?" He asked.

Stan laughed and said in a teasing way, "No. The guy is dead right? Erased. Just a memory now."

They eventually made it to the front of the statue, just a foot away. Its eye peered at them lifelessly, empty. It was nothing but an etching on stone. Dipper was suddenly very comfortable as he gazed at it, curiosity breaking through all his negativity.

"It's been here all this time hasn't it? This is the real deal right? It's not just some leftovers from his sick followers right?" Dipper said, his voice wispy in his sudden focus.

"It's real." Stan answered with a resolute certainty.

Dipper then began to move on his own, closer. His uncle's hand fell from him. He reached out and began tracing the eye. The grey and aged stone was cold but also surprisingly smooth.

"You know, I think I buried him in my head. No one likes to talk about Bill. So no one does. I don't even have an entry in my journal for him. I wanted him forgotten." Dipper paused, he then traced his hand along the stone to the thin arm sticking out on its side. "I hate him. I think I've always hated him."

His uncle moved behind the statue to look at him, Dipper could feel his gaze but didn't look up at it.

"I'm sure the feeling was mutual." Stan said, each word scarily calm and well-spoken.

Dippers hand almost reached the end of the arm, just a hairs breath away from the hand. He looked up at his uncle, he saw his face was still. Frozen in this twisted expression of joy. This wasn't Stan. Yet, for some reason, Dippers mind ignored that, he looked back down at the statue's hand. It appeared to be constantly beckoning for something. He poked the end of one of its fingers.

"Out of all the beings I have ever run into, that we have ever run into, I think... I think he was the one I wanted to understand the most. Like poison. Like alcohol maybe. I always fought it off, but I wanted to know more about what he was. What makes his sick mind tick." He glanced at Stan and smirked."It had to be more than parties."

He then let his hand fall limply to his side. Stan watched it drop, his eyes glued to it.

"Ahh mmm..." Stan appeared to struggle to speak for a moment. "Hey kid? How about you shake its hand, it's... uh... kinda like a prize."

Dipper let out a light and hearty laugh. "A prize? Shaking his hand?"

"Ehh, you guys beat him. Somebody should wish this bad memory goodbye right?"

Dipper lifted his hand up and flexed it. "It was you and Grunkle Ford that beat him. But hey? Why not."

Dipper then reached out and squeezed the statue's hand, a smug smile on his face.

"Goodbye Bill Cipher, you stupid triangle. "

Stan to had a smile on his face now. It was probably the happiest smile Dipper had ever seen in his life. His uncle seemed to be struggling with a bout of laughter, his hands were moving against one another heatedly; excitedly.

And then Dipper felt something move and squeeze his hand back. He let out a yelp, his reflexes instantly attempting to pull away. When he found he couldn't, heart-stopping fear took over.