In the morning, Cassandra was again in a hurry.
"Morning," she offered, stepping up to the table and picking up a bagel.
"Good morning, Cassie," her dad responded, "you look like you're in a hurry."
"Reading a good book," Cassandra explained. She'd rehearsed that answer in her head a million times - she hoped it sounded more convincing than it felt.
"That'll do it," Abel agreed.
Mouth full of bagel, Cassandra considered her next words carefully,
"Does The Shack have a basement?" she asked, as casually as she could manage.
"What?"
"I was just wondering."
"You've been in The Shack! Where would there be a basement?"
"I don't know! There's a lot of hidden things in The Shack."
"Why are you asking?"
"I was just curious," she shrugged. "see ya'," she added, finishing the bagel and giving her dad a one-armed hug.
"Alright, see you later," Abel accepted.
Ashwin was making sure he looked sharp when Cassandra got back to the room.
"What'd he say?" he prompted.
"He said there was no basement," Cassandra said.
"So you don't trust him?"
"No. Whatever I found is too secret. I don't want him to take the notebooks away. Not before I get some more out of them."
"Suit yourself," Ashwin shrugged. He and Faith headed down to breakfast, and Cassandra scrabbled up the ladder to the loft, laying out her scratch paper, the notebooks, and making sure her pencils were in tip-top shape.
"Let's do this," she muttered to herself, hunching over the pages. The Vigenere cipher was complex, and took several layers of decoding, but slowly and surely she got through the first few sentences:
This notebook will be dedicated to the more bizarre events of two-thousand-twelve. It was a crazy summer: we learned the truth about Grunkle Stan and Great Uncle Ford, and we lived through the almost-apocalypse, brought on by the one and only Njhk Cmtffu.
She looked at her scribbled decoding again; those last words didn't mean anything. They were still in code. The key word must've changed. With a deep, drawn-out sigh her head fell. This was going to take a long time. She should've known the code word would change - whatever this was it was really important to her dad to keep it secret. Swapping codes every paragraph or so would be a challenge; not to mention the point where the code wasn't even letters or numbers anymore, it was just weird symbols.
She tangled her hands up in her hair, silently berating herself for not taking more notes under the black-light.
"Hey, not bad!"
Cassandra snapped to attention, looking up to find the world drained of color.
"You know, I don't think we were properly introduced last time," noted the triangular demon from the day before, "name's Bill Cipher, it's a pleasure to meet you," he sped through the introduction, tipping his hat slightly. The room jolted with the motion. "And you know, I'm impressed, Sapling," he continued, drifting around her head, "you're a clever one. Real committed to this whole knowledge thing."
"Thanks?" she responded, unsure of this whole situation.
"I mean, really! I like you! You wanna' be a genius, right? You seem like a genius kind of kid," Bill commented, leaning on her shoulder, "You want answers, but none of the old fogeys in this town want to give 'em to you, am I right?" he prompted, swooping up close to Cassandra's face,
"I- I guess…"
"But, see, I trust you," he elaborated, drifting away again, sitting in thin air as one might a comfortable chair, "I think you can do great things. I see a lot of potential in you, kid. You can change the world! All you need is a little nudge."
"…change the world?" Cassandra echoed, rolling the idea over in her mind.
"Oh, yeah! Help me fix that old hunk of junk in The Shack's basement and you could be world famous!"
Cassandra shook away the visions of grandeur,
"I don't know," she commented, "that seems a bit over-the-top."
"Alright, alright. We'll build up," Bill muttered, "how 'bout just a quick Q&A? I'll tell you anything I know - anything - if you just give me a little of your time."
"Anything?" Cassandra repeated, interest piqued, "Like, what happened thirty years ago?"
"Sure, kid! No problem! All I need is for you to help me get from point A to point B, no more than ten minutes. Fifteen if we hit a snag."
"All the answers… just for a fifteen minute trip?" she asked, skeptical.
"Sure! In my great expanse of knowledge and existence that little blip of a summer is only a footnote of information! I'll be happy to enlighten you in exchange for a lift!" he assured her, "Do we have a deal?" he prompted, holding out a hand.
"I- I guess," Cassandra stammered, "but you have to tell me what I want to know before I take you anywhere!" she added, hoping to avoid loopholes, "Why are people reuniting? And why won't anyone tell me about it? I want to know what happened here, in this town, one summer thirty years ago, that nobody will tell me about!"
"Deal," Bill assured her, as their hands met. "You wanna' know what happened thirty years ago?" he sneered as cold, blue fire consumed her arm, "ME." he flared into his red, enraged form for emphasis before tearing Cassandra's soul from her body and taking it's place.
Finding herself outside her body Cassandra turned to where she was just moments before, watching herself stand up, stretch, and grin big and maliciously at her floating ethereal self, eyes tinted yellow, pupils shrunken into slits.
"W-whu- What did-?" she stammered, trying to understand what was happening.
"You'll get it back in a minute," Bill assured her from her body, "I just gotta' get something I've been waiting to get my hands on for a long time."
"W-where are you going?" she asked, trailing frantically behind as Bill piloted her body to the edge of the loft,
"Oooh, nice drop!" he noted. "Meet ya' at the bottom!" he threw Cassandra's body over the edge, ignoring the ladder completely, and landing on her back with a thud.
"Don't do that!" Cassandra insisted, drifting down.
"Why not? Pain's a whole lot of fun. You don't get anything like it in the mindscape," Bill explained, getting to her feet. "You meat-bags really have some good thrills going," he noted, leaving the room. "Now, if you'll excuse me I have some business to attend to."
Cassandra followed Bill through the cabin, trying to get him to acknowledge her presence,
"What business? What are you doing? What- What're you-? Talk to me, dammit! What're you doing?!"
Suddenly he looked around a corner, stopped, and stepped back. He tossed her a grin for reasons she didn't understand, and rounded the corner into the kitchen with a casual air.
"We'll meet again, don't know how, Don't know when…" he sang, strolling up to her father, who was busy washing dishes. "Oh I know we'll meet again some sunny day," he concluded, leaning on the counter next to Abel.
"What?" her father asked, turning to look at Cassandra's body.
"What- what're you doing?" Cassandra asked again, but quieter, a heavy dose of apprehension in her voice.
"How's domestic life treatin' ya', Pine Tree?"
With a jolt Abel jumped back, the plate in his hand crashing to the floor.
"That bad?" Bill prompted.
"Get out of my daughter," Dipper demanded.
"That's the idea," Bill grinned, "but I'm not gonna' give up this vessel just to be nice. I want swankier digs," he explained, stepping closer to Dipper, "Cause let's be honest here, the girl's got the arm strength of a toddler and has all that terrible puberty stuff going on, plus she's kinda' short. I want your body," Bill explained.
Dipper hesitated,
"We got you out of my body, we can get you out of hers," he pointed out.
"Well, sure, eventually," Bill acknowledged, "but you got rid of me through exertion and sleep-depravation. This body is well rested, well fed - you take care of your kid a lot better than that sorry old man ever took care of you,"
Dipper grimaced at the jab at Stan.
"and that means I have a lot more time on my hands in this body," Bill elaborated, "and I'm sure you remember my affinity for the painful," he added, riffling through drawers. "Oooh, look at this one!" he commented, retrieving a large kitchen knife, "Fun!"
Cassandra yelped in terror from over her body's shoulder. Dipper stared, mouth dry.
"Don't," he managed to force out.
"OK," Bill agreed, holding out a hand, "give me your body."
Dipper hesitated.
"And don't forget to account for the fact that I really just want revenge," Bill added, lowering his hand and admiring the knife, "I mean, sure, using you as a vessel to re-open the rift would be great, but I'd happily settle for just killing your only child," he noted, holding the blade to Cassandra's neck.
"NO!" Abel lunged forward, and Bill obediently stopped, grin spreading across the-face-formerly-known-as-Cassandra's.
"Then, do we have a deal?" Bill prompted, offering Cassandra's hand again.
"You won't hurt her?" Abel asked.
"Why would I?"
"You won't hurt her," Abel demanded.
"You got it, kid," Bill assured him, "I won't hurt the girl."
There was another moment of hesitation, and Abel took Bill's hand.
"Deal," he agreed, downcast.
"Now that's more like it!" Bill beamed, yanking the soul from Abel's body as he vacated Cassandra's body.
In an instant Cassandra's eyes snapped open, the cold linoleum of the kitchen against her back, and she scrambled to her feet, full of fear and unsure what to do. She turned to look at her father's limp form. The eyes shot open - tinted yellow now and slitted - and without hesitation she ran from the room, from the house. She heard Bill laugh behind her. She didn't know what to do, but she needed to be as far away from Bill Cipher as possible, whatever his vessel.
She couldn't think about anything but what had just happened, and she could barely comprehend that, she was just full of fear, and a need to run as far away as she could. Far away-
She crumpled to the ground in the middle of the forrest, her back against a tree, breathing fast and shallow, overwhelmed.
"Hun?"
Her head shot up to find Sylvia offering a concerned look.
"What's wrong, hun?" the ghost asked, face to face with Cassandra.
"Everything," was all she could manage.
"Do you need your cousin?" Sylvia asked.
Cassandra nodded.
"Alright ladies!" Sylvia barked to the ghosts of the forrest, "Find me Ashwin- what's his last name?"
"H-howley," Cassandra told her.
"Howley! Ashwin Howley!" Cassandra could hear Sylvia describing her cousin to the other ghosts, but she wasn't really paying any attention, knees clutched to her chest, trying not to cry, trying to understand what was happening. Was it her fault? Was it all her fault? What would happen to Dad? What would-
"Cassie?" Ashwin asked. She looked up, terror on her face and tears playing at the corners of her eyes, and his face fell, "Cassie, what's wrong?"
"D-dad," she stammered, Ashwin crouched down on the ground with her, "the- the demon, that triangle- Bill-"
"Woah, what? Slow down, I can't follow you,"
Cassandra just stared at him a moment as she tried to put it all into place. She swallowed hard, and tried again,
"You remember the demon? Bill?" she asked. Ashwin nodded. "He- he offered me answers, and we made a deal, and he possessed me-" an involuntary shiver shot down her just thinking about it, "and- and he used me to get to Dad. Dad's possessed," she concluded with the main point. "we can't go back to the house- where's Faith?" she asked, terrified for a moment that her little cousin was in the house with that thing.
"Faith is at the Corduroys'," Ashwin assured her, "she's fine."
"You're sure?"
"Absolutely."
For a moment she just sat there, breathing heavily and clinging to her cousin.
"What do we do?" she asked, as if he would know.
"I'm not sure," he responded, "but we'll think of something. Seriously, don't worry," he tried to reassure her. But she wasn't having it,
"This is all my fault," she insisted, "I can't believe I even did that! I was so stupid. If I could just go back and-"
"I-I might be able to help you there," someone stammered, gaining the cousins' attention.
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