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"Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve." Dipper generated extra fingers for his counting, "Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen. Hmmm, not bad."
He floated lackadaisically in the mindscape, surrounded by the greyed out pines of Gravity Falls. A shimmer of power clung to his skin. Sparks danced between his fingers, still human by all appearances, save the extra digits. He brushed his hands together, dismissing them.
Demon souls roiled about in his gut, digesting.
Ever since he'd eaten the soul of the plague demon, he'd welcomed the following creatures that dared to take his soul. The pace of attacks hadn't abated either. But not one had escaped alive to spread the word of this vicious new demon that disguised itself as a human.
And yet still, he was unable to force his way out of the mindscape. The barrier between dimensions was resilient and rubbery. Whenever he tried to push through, it clung to his form and eventually repulsed his efforts. He'd funneled all his power into becoming corporeal. All attempts unsuccessful.
"I guess I need more." He muttered to himself. He ignored the way the needles of the pines shivered at his voice. "I'm still hungry."
Suddenly, a sensation he wasn't familiar with tugged at his soul. A thread of power that connected his present location to another. His forehead twitched, third eye blinking open, making him feel like he needed to sneeze. Hilarious. Human spasms.
He closed his eyes. Following.
A feathery breeze brushed over his skin, cool against his searing skin. It whispered through the pine trees, hushed, but carrying secrets only he could hear. His third eye was assaulted with color, radiating from every element. The ground effused soft shades of tremple. The creature in front of him smoked with coils of rammin.
Strange. It was a human. And it could see him. Amidst the smoke from his appearance.
"What is the meaning of this, Bill?"
Somehow, the voice was familiar. It took Dipper a minute to sift through his human memories. After he'd eaten the second demon, he'd broken down. Now he knew his tears were gold and his sobs melted the air. Disgust made him want to hurl sparking emesis, but he kept it down. He needed the energy. A jot of power could not be wasted. Human instincts were inconvenient. He shoved them down, repressing them with locks in the form of three-sided shapes. Triangles.
Bill. Bill Cipher.
Gideon Gleeful's honeyed accent registered.
Dipper opened his eyes to be greeted by the sight of the diminutive showman. His powder blue suit was overlaid with more colors: confusion, anxiety, obstinance. A grin felt like it was ripping his face in half. Oh, this was hilarious.
"Demon… What?" Gideon stuttered to a stop, examining the being in front of him further. Now the air was clear and everything was laid bare.
Dipper glanced down as well, for the first time registering what his tiny enemy was seeing. His clothes – shorts, t-shirt, and vest – were covered with blood of multiple colors. Black. Green. Gold. His own and that of others. Frayed rips and burned holes peppered the fabric so it hung off his emancipated frame. Transient tongues of fire licked at his sneakers, the canvas just as ratty as his clothes. Sparks made his snarled hair stand on end, but he felt his hat still securely fixed on his head.
He floated above a circle. They array was decorated with familiar symbols and a prominent triangle. But Dipper could tell that the stings of power were lax. Their origin was now connected to nothing. A few, wayward strands tangled about Dipper's ankle. So that's how he had ended up here.
Gideon's summons had pulled the next closest creature onto the plane of reality. If Dipper had doubted his demonhood before, he could no longer. But he'd already accepted his nature, it had been necessary.
"Dipper Pines?" Gideon muttered, "How is this right. You died. You died two months ago. I didn't summon a ghost, I summoned a demon."
Dipper threw back his head and laughed. Loud and mocking. Hilarious. This was pure gold. Sparks scampered along his shoulders. Wings flared, keeping his balance even as they shook with mirth. As giggles started to wind down, he snuck peek at the child psychic, causing him to dissolve into another fit. Golden tears leaked from his eyes and he rubbed them away with the heel of his hand.
"Bill. I demand to know what is going on right now! Why do you look like Dipper Pines? Why is the supernatural suddenly everywhere? I demand you tell me what you've done!"
"It's funny how dumb you are." Dipper chuckled. He swooped closer to the edge of the chalk circle. He registered how the atmosphere here felt thick, like he was pushing at the barrier between dimensions again.
"Bill." Gideon warned with pointless heat.
"Oh, it's not Bill, kid. I am Dipper Pines."
"I wanted a demon."
"And you got one."
Dipper bowed mockingly. A triangular clog clicked, twitching into the right orientation. Instinct. The same that ravenously demanded souls also eagerly awaited a deal. Blue flames sprung into his palm. He held it out for Gideon.
"What can I do for you?"
"This is preposterous!" Gideon exclaimed, "The journal didn't say anything about this."
"It doesn't say much about lots of things." Dipper leered, "But I know lots of things."
Gideon hesitated.
"Wouldn't you like to know lots of things?"
"Yes."
"Well then, this should be simple. I tell you what you want to know in return for a little favor."
"What favor?"
Gideon wasn't as stupid as he seemed. He did learn. He didn't learn fast enough. Only a short time after the world had become intertwined with the supernatural and he was summing a demon.
"I need power. Just a smidgeon should do. I can't give you knowledge without a tiny boost. A small sacrifice. It could be something like a little piggy."
Gideon thought over it. The request was simple enough. "Deal."
The diminutive showman reached through the wall of magic. Baby-soft hand clasped with gore-encrusted hand. Human and demon. Sapphire flames blossomed as the contract was sealed.
"Why don't I fulfill my end of the bargain first." Dipper suggested, leaning back to float about the circumference of the circle. A little bit of reassurance would put Gideon at ease. Misdirection. He swallowed down the saliva that was building in his mouth. With eyes that could peer through multiple dimensions, he could see the soul of his tiny enemy resting behind his sternum. It was smooth, tinted with the jallitte color of corruption.
"What happened at the Transcendence?"
Even with his third eye closed, Dipper could see the events, clear as day. There was a collision of his human memories and his omniscient perspective. He wrestled between the two, sorting through like he was untangling Mabel's pink skein of yarn. The answer came free.
"Bill's spell to merge the mindscape and your dimension failed. My fault, really. But the implosion widened the dimensional rent that resided in Gravity Falls. The supernatural is everywhere now. Deal with it. You aren't that special, kid."
"What happened to you?"
"Bill tried to possess me to preserve his existence. But the magic from the spell had already unwound his being. His powers latched onto me. Changed me. I'm a demon now. I'm special."
"You don't look like much of a demon."
Dipper shrugged. Repressing the smirk was easy. A performance. Repressing his hunger was another thing altogether.
"Anything else."
"Yes. What do I need to do to make Mabel Pines mine?"
A lazy smirk leaked through. Dipper halted his circuit in front of Gideon. Still reclined, he tipped his head back so the child psychic could see his expression.
"I'd like my payment before I answer any more questions. Remember what I said, I can't give you knowledge without a tiny boost."
Gideon's brow furrowed, "Will you just wait here while I get the sacrifice?"
"That's unnecessary." Dipper's lips pulled back in an unnatural smile. "It's already here."
The diminutive psychic didn't even have time to be confused. Dipper threw himself at the barrier. It was spongey, weaker than when he was incorporeal. He had bid his time and gathered his power. Now his fingers broke through the barrier, tearing it wider so that his head and neck forced its way into reality. Magic threaded its way into his limbs, restraining him. Sparks burst like snapped live-wire, frying the threads.
Gideon stumbled back, falling on his butt next to an open notebook with diagrams and incantations.
"What are you doing!?"
"Taking my sacrifice."
A grasping hand brushed Gideon's ankle and he snatched it back.
"Me!?" the child psychic shrieked in disbelief, "We agreed on a pig!"
"I said it 'could be'!" Dipper giggled, "You're close enough. You're such a pig, Gideon. A small sacrifice. Haha! I'm so hungry!"
"No!" Gideon screamed. He scrambled to his feet, snatching the book up with him. "No. No. No. This can't be happening." Watery eyes hastily scanned the pages. "Adiuro vos: Dipper Pines!"
The spell registered in Dipper's power thirsty mind. A binding. His name reinforced the weak words and poor pronunciation. Even without an additional array, the spell was effective.
Space that he had stretched apart suddenly snapped back, like elastic, tightening over his neck and wrists. Dipper hissed. Flames sputtered and died out. The circle beneath him glowed. Invisible stings pulled him back to the center, slow but relentless.
His stomach boiled. Demanded more. Another soul was so close. Sparks swirled in a vortex, racing under his skin, and alit every muscle and nerve. It fused with his faux human form. He knew, he was human once. Physicality should be easy.
Dipper gave his humanity a shove. Not noodle arms, but ones spiked with power. Not scratched up knees, but ones he didn't even need to use as he defied the laws of nature. Not a freakish forehead, but one that now housed all the secrets of the universe. Still, human once. He recalled what it was like to stand in front of Mabel when Gideon's robot threatened them on the bridge, hundreds of feet above the ground.
He would do it again.
With a growl, he lit the binding stings with blue fire. He hurled himself again at the edge of the circle. He fixed his gaze solely, not on Gideon, but the human's soul. Hungry. His first human soul.
A clap of thunder filled the pine forest. Chalk dissolved into smoke. The circle of candles were buffeted back and smashed apart against the trunks of the surrounding trees.
Predatory, Dipper pounced at Gideon. With inhuman strength, he knocked away the tome the child psychic wielded and grabbed him by the lapels. Dipper's soiled hands contrasted harshly with Gideon's well-pressed suit. Fire simmered under his grip, begging to be let out.
Dipper held it back, enjoying his victory. All the sensations of the real world rebounded off him, tenfold. After isolation, it was pure rapture. He wanted to drag his jagged nails across his arms, raise furrows of red and stripes of gold. He wanted to drive dull knives and let his insides open to air. Hilarious.
Gideon's terror washed over him. Whimpers befitting the sorry excuse of a creature. His soul pulsed under Dipper's grip.
"I could go for another soul." Dipper mused, pointing to the center of his tiny enemy's chest. "I don't have enough of my own, it seems. Do you want to know how many I've had so far?"
The diminutive showman shook his head, no.
"Oh, come on. Play along."
He tossed Gideon to the ground, earning a gasp as the child psychic was left without breath. Without preamble, he levitated Gideon, reminiscent of another battle, now reversed. Dipper floated closer, all smiles and beating bat-wings.
"How many?" Gideon choked out.
"One." He bent back his tiny enemy's pinky till it cracked. Gideon cried out.
"Two."
"Three."
Every count was accompanied by another broken digit until Dipper reached 'ten'. Gideon was sobbing. His face ruddy and soaked with tears. No amount of pleading abated Dipper's pace. It was just too hilarious. He put a hand to his chin, thinking.
"Out of fingers."
"Please," Gideon begged, "Please stop. I promise. I'll leave your family alone. Just stop." He cradled his hands to his chest as if that would protect them. His voice was broken and raw.
"How about a limb? Let me get rid of those useless arms for you. Eleven."
The child psychic's objection was cut off by a scream. Arm and blue suit sleeve thudded to the ground. Splashes of viscous liquid went unheard beneath tortured sounds that rent the air. Blood splattered over the dusty forest floor. Gideon wasn't even coherent anymore. He didn't beg. The screams only continued.
Three more swipes of magic and fire.
"Twelve."
"Thirteen."
"Fourteen."
Something that felt like sandpaper rubbed against Dipper's form, wearing him down. The speed of the sparks under his skin faltered. A force drew him toward the mindscape like a vacuum.
Gideon was nothing more than a mess of despicable human flesh. With unerring speed, Dipper propelled himself forward with a beat of his wings. He plunged his hand into his tiny enemy's chest, fingers closed like a vise over his soul.
The diminutive showman's eyes rolled back in his head. Only whites showed. Silent now.
"Fifteen."
Discarding the decapitated stump, Dipper examined the soul resting in his palm. His stomach rumbled. Warring sensations of revulsion and hunger. His diet had consisted solely of demon souls up to this point. Once he did this, there was no going back. He would completely discard his humanity in his search for power. To survive. To grow. To find Mabel.
Ignoring the pull of another dimension, Dipper let the voices in his mind battle.
A twelve – no thirteen – year old boy. Who only wanted to be an adventurer and uncover the mysteries of Gravity Falls vehemently objected to this course of action. They could find another way. Try naturally regenerating their energy. Stop fighting for a while and try reaching Mabel after that.
It would take centuries to gain enough. Mabel would be long gone by then. And there's no way to avoid the demons. They're hunting us. Trying to get a taste of fresh blood. They're going to get a taste of pain instead. Hilarious.
It was already done. He decided. Pieces of Gideon were scattered about the woods, unfixable. And the soul in his hand looked delightfully smooth and cool. And he was hungry.
Dipper swallowed his first human soul.
Marvelous. Infinitely better than a demon's. There was no struggle between wills. Gideon had no choice but to submit to a greater power. And now he would suffer more before being released to reincarnate. Served him right. Pig. Dipper cackled, flooded with more energy. He lost it, the mindscape pulled him back. But he had a taste of human and a taste of fresh air. He'd be wanting it back. Very soon.
First, he'd need to remedy the little issue with binding. He'd need a new name, a title. One that gave others no leverage. One that would instill fear.
He perused his mind. Bits and pieces of humanity floated about, driving nausea in his gullet and composing tears in his eyes. His frame shook. So he gathered up fragments of Dipper Pines and locked them away once more. Along the way, a memory cut loose. One of his father pointing out the stars in the sky to convince a younger Dipper Pines that his birthmark made him special.
"I'm special." He muttered.
"I'm Alcor."
TBC
I'm an awful human being. That is all.