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Along with the usual warnings, this chapter has an additional warning for some pretty graphic descriptions of violence and blood. Reader discretion is advised.
Dipper was frozen. His knees and elbows ached from their impact on the stairs. One of his hands stung painfully and felt sticky against the wood of the stairs - he assumed he had cut it upon dropping the knife in his fall. His mind was screaming at him to run over and over again, but no matter how hard he tried he could not force his body to cooperate.
Bill stood a few feet away, his hands in the pockets of his ripped jeans. He was wearing a sleeveless black tank top that was cut low under the arms and tucked loosely into his jeans. That sickening smile stuck firmly on his face.
Another flash of lightening rumbled through the sky and sent a cascade of harsh light across Bill's smug features. The shadows making him look gaunt, his eyes sunken and glinting menacingly.
Dipper's arms ached from how he was supporting himself against the stairs. The lip of the stair at his back dug into his spine at an odd angle. His legs felt like they were made of putty. But still, he could not get himself to move.
Bill's sly, golden eyes surveyed him - eyeing him up and down slowly like one might take in a feast spread out on a banquet table - and he cocked his head to the side.
Dipper saw the challenge in his eyes. An unspoken dare to run, to fight, to do anything at all other than cower. Dipper was not foolish enough to take that dare, nor did he feel he had the energy to try. So he stared back at him, as unwaveringly as he could manage with the remnants of tears still trailing their way down his face.
After what felt like hours of the thick stillness, Bill finally let out a low chuckle. He removed his hands from his pockets and wiggled his fingers at his sides. Dipper saw blue sparks flit between his fingertips and eyed them warily. Bill brought his hands up to his chest and slowly began to crack his knuckles as he spoke.
"So," he simpered down at the brunette, "are you done running?" Pop. "Or are you going to make me catch you again?" Pop. Pop. "If I didn't know any better," his grin spread wider, "I would think you enjoy our little games as much as I do." Pop.
Each small "pop" made Dipper flinch. He recognized the challenge for what it was, a trap. "Go ahead, run away, and see what happens when I catch you." Still, Dipper did not move. He opened his mouth to reply, but his first attempt came out as a pitiful croak that only caused Bill to giggle with delight.
Bill placed a hand on his cheek in a cheap imitation of pity. "My poor darling, what's the matter?" He cooed. It made Dipper want to puke. "Cat got your tongue?"
"D-don't call me that," Dipper managed. Even to Dipper's own ears it sounded meaningless.
Bill took a small step closer, causing Dipper to flinch. "If you don't want me to say it, then stop me," Bill challenged. His smile dropped, his golden eyes flashing dangerously. He continued to advance slowly on the stairs, another boom of thunder rumbling the shack. Dipper, unable to summon the strength to try to maneuver away, attempted to flatten himself against the stairs. He curled into himself, head turning to the side in some pitiful attempt at gaining distance as Bill closed the space between them until he was practically caging Dipper against the stairs. Bill's bare arms planted themselves firmly beside Dipper's head and Bill cocked his head once more as he watched the brunette's face.
Dipper's breath came out in short pants, his eyes darting wildly around them, trying to look anywhere but Bill's smug face. For a way out.
Bill clicked his tongue as if in annoyance. "You never listen, do you?" He lowered his voice dangerously. He picked one hand off the stairs and caressed gently down the side of Dipper's face, smudging away the tears still clinging to his cheeks. "I told you, Dipper, just give up and all this pain will end." His voice was soft, comforting almost.
It was disorienting. Dipper felt like his mind was being pulled in a dozen different directions. He was exhausted. He couldn't think. He needed to think. His mind had always been his weapon, but for once he felt like he was coming up completely empty. As he lay pressed against the stairs, he felt something smooth and cold brush against his fingertips. "The knife!" He held back a gasp as a single thought suddenly flooded his mind, pushing through the screaming of his heartbeat and the roar of the storm outside: fight.
He stretched out his fingers, desperately trying to grab hold of the handle without drawing Bill's attention.
He felt Bill's breath ghost against the shell of his ear and he pinched his eyes shut. "Just give up," he cooed again. "This could all be so easy, Dipper. Just play with me."
As Bill continued to loom over him, Dipper's slippery fingers finally found the handle and he gripped it tight. It stung his cut palm as he held it and steeled his nerve. He let out a shaky exhale, his whole body quivering. He turned his head back slowly to face the blonde looming above him. He met Bill's golden eyes and gulped. He tensed the muscles in his arm.
Just as Bill opened his mouth again to speak, Dipper swung his arm with as much force as he could manage towards Bill's side. The blade of the kitchen knife struck Bill between his ribs beneath his arm and Dipper forced it in as far as he could make it go. Bill let out a horrible shriek of pain as he lurched backwards and collided sideways with the wall beside the stairs, clutching the handle of the knife that was dug firmly into his side.
The moment Bill was off of him Dipper pushed off the stairs with all his might and made a dash for the front door. Bill's pained screaming filled his ears as he darted past him.
Dipper felt a sick sense of pride at his victory swell up in his chest.
But, just as quickly as the feeling arrived, it was ripped away from him as a strong hand gripped the back of his neck with such force it sent pain shooting down his spine. The breath was torn from his lungs as Dipper was yanked backwards and tossed across the living room as if he weighed little more than a throw pillow. He came crashing down onto the coffee table, splintering it into pieces with the impact and making Dipper see stars. He felt the hot sting of blood dripping down his face from his forehead. He groaned in pain as he tried to roll over, to crawl away as best he could, but his ankle was seized and he was dragged back across carpet. He managed to roll himself onto his back in an attempt to kick at Bill's hand that had grabbed him, but he froze.
Dipper's whole body seized up in paralyzing terror as he looked down at his foot. It was not a hand holding him, but a black tendril of what Dipper could only describe as lightening. It cracked and writhed as the tendril wrapped tight around his ankle sending pain shooting up his leg. His eyes followed the tendril across the living room floor to where Bill was standing at the foot of the stairs and Dipper's eyes widened.
Bill was leaned back slightly against the wall by the base of the stairs. Thick, unnaturally dark blood oozed out in rivulets down his side and down the wall behind him. His opposite hand gripped the handle of the knife, his knuckles white. His other hand extended outwards towards Dipper, sparks of blue fire shooting off his fingers.
Bill slowly looked up and Dipper let out a whimper. Bill's eyes glowed with the same blue fire that engulfed his hand, his face contorted into a look of pure rage. His lips curled up into an animalistic snarl showing off teeth that were far too sharp.
To Dipper, it seemed as if the room itself began to shake as Bill glowered down at him. "You-!" Bill's voice came out as a demonic growl. As if hundreds of voices were layered on top of one another. It turned Dipper's blood to ice. "You're going to regret that."
Bill tugged hard on the knife embedded in his side, pulling it free with an awful squelching noise. He did not so much as flinch. His side and hand were soaked with his dark blood and he dropped the dripping blade to the floor with a clatter. He clenched his other hand and the tendril around Dipper's leg tightened painfully until Dipper felt a sharp snap in the bones of his ankle.
Dipper cried out as he was yanked across the floor. The friction against the carpet burned his skin as he was dragged towards Bill. He tried desperately to resist the pull, but he was powerless against it. As soon as he was within reach, Bill all but tackled him against the ground. Dipper was pinned against the carpet as Bill's full weight came crashing down on him, one of Bill's hands gripping tight at his throat.
Dipper kicked weakly, hand scrabbling against Bill's hand that was constricting his airways. Bill snarled at him, leaning down close to Dipper's face and baring his teeth.
"I warned you," Bill spat. His voice was quieter than before. "I gave you so many chances, and yet..."
Dipper's vision was beginning to fade, he couldn't breath, his clawing hands becoming slower and slower until their fight began to stop. He pushed weakly against Bill's hand one more time, his eyes fluttering closed.
He faintly heard Bill scoff above him before the hand choking him was removed and Dipper sucked air back into his lungs. His throat stung, his lungs burned as he heaved and coughed. His body shook with the spasms of his coughing and his fuzzy vision barely made out the blue glow of Bill's eyes watching him as he straddled Dipper's chest. His body felt slow, his mind with it as he looked up at his tormentor.
He vaguely made out Bill's sneer. "If you want to do this the hard way," Bill said flatly, "then that's what we'll do."
Dipper barely had time to process what Bill had said before he was crying out in pain again as Bill's fist hit his cheek - hard. He felt the skin beneath his eye split with the force of it and tossed his head to the side against the ground. He vaguely registered the weight on top of him shifting before he was struck hard in the ribs and he rolled across the floor. Dipper wheezed out, surmising slowly that Bill had kicked him in the ribs. Dipper weakly attempted to crawl away once more but did not make it far. He hissed in pain as Bill grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked hard, angling Dipper's head backwards.
Bill leaned in close to his ear. "Give up," he commanded.
Dipper blinked slowly. Hot blood and tears streaked down his face. He didn't answer, he didn't think he could. He only grit his teeth and glared behind him.
The blonde released his hair and Dipper collapsed forward onto the carpet. It was only a moment before Dipper felt a knee pressing into the middle of his back and Bill grabbed his right arm and pulled it backwards behind him. Dipper shrieked in pain as his shoulder was twisted backwards beyond what it was capable of.
Bill once again leaned down by Dipper's face. "I said," he tugged on Dipper's arm sending another shock of pain coursing through Dipper's body, "Give. Up." Blood rushed in Dipper's ears, the pain all over his body was blinding. "You are mine," Bill snarled, "You will not escape me. You can run from me, hide from me, try whatever you want. But no matter where you run to I will find you. One way or another, you will be mine." Bill punctuated his promise with one more strong yank on Dipper's arm. A loud "pop" sounded as Dipper's shoulder dislocated from it's socket and he screamed.
Bill released him and Dipper rolled onto his side with a grunt, and then further until he was on his back. He held his limp arm with one hand and stared blankly at the ceiling. He heard the shuffling of Bill's shoes somewhere nearby before he vaguely recognized the shadow of Bill's form loom over him. Another flash of lightning illuminated the room and flashed across Bill's snarling face.
Bill held out one hand and it irrupted in blue flames, at the same moment the scar on Dipper's chest began to burn like he had been set on fire from the inside.
Dipper tried to scream, but all he could force out was a strangled wheeze as he began to writhe in pain. Tears spilled pitifully down his face, stinging the cut on his cheek and the split in his lip. He felt like he was burning from the inside out. With the hand he could still move, Dipper began to claw at his chest and whimpered aloud. He looked up at Bill pleadingly, but Bill only watched him with indifference as he ripped at his shirt.
"St-sto-," Dipper choked out.
Bill cocked his head to the side, glowing eyes blinking slowly. "Beg," he said flatly.
Dipper couldn't breath. His lungs felt like fire. His head swam as he saw splotches in his vision, he was fairly sure he was concussed. He shoulder throbbed painfully, the start of a dark bruise spreading slowly from his upper arms towards his collarbone. His whole leg was numb below the knee. His head was pounding. Every heaving breath he took causing a pulsating pain to stab through his rib cage. His throat felt raw, his mouth too dry to swallow.
"P-," Dipper wheezed. Black was slowly creeping into his vision. Dipper thought he was on the edge of going unconscious.
"Go on," Bill prompted - threatened. "Ask me nicely and I might just stop."
Dipper opened and closed his mouth several times, he couldn't force anything out.
After a moment, Bill clenched his fist harder. The burning erupted through Dipper's entire body and a scream was ripped from his lungs as he convulsed.
"Please!" Dipper screamed as loudly as he could manage. "Please! St-! Just-! Stop!"
Bill regarded him a moment more before he relaxed his hand and the burning ceased. Dipper's body continued to spasm in small hiccups and twitches. He gasped for air but it didn't feel like enough. He gazed unseeing up at the ceiling.
"Good," Bill scowled. He knelt down beside Dipper with his elbows on his knees. He nudged Dipper with his knuckles eliciting a groan from the brunette. "So fragile," he sighed, "you humans break so easily." He moved his hand to caress Dipper's cheek, smearing blood, sweat, spit, and tears beneath his knuckles as he did. He ran a finger across Dipper's trembling lips, causing Dipper to shudder. "So fragile..." Bill muttered again.
He used a finger to tilt Dipper's chin towards him. A flash of lighting and another rumble of thunder boomed through the shack. Dipper saw the blood that had been running down Bill's side already beginning to disappear as if it were evaporating into the air. Underneath where the blood had been, just above the open side of Bill's cut-off shirt, there was not so much as a mark from where the blade had pierced him. "I could fix it, you know?" Bill tilted his head with a sly smile. "Just like last time. I could make it all better."
Dipper blinked at him slowly. His mind was foggy, his thoughts slow. One of his eyes was beginning to swell shut making it even more difficult to see. His short staccato breaths sent waves of pain through his chest with every inhale.
"Is that what you want, love?" Bill whispered. "Do you want the hurt to go away?"
It sounded nice. He wanted to stop hurting. But...
"Wh-..." Dipper swallowed thickly, his voice was barely audible, his words slurred together. "What... d'you... w-want?"
Bill clicked his tongue and brushed strands of Dipper's hair, sticky with his own blood, from Dipper's forehead. "Just you, Sapling," he said softly. It made Dipper shudder again. "I can make all this hurting stop. Nothing will ever hurt you again."
Fresh tears pooled in Dipper's eyes and Bill gently thumbed them away, shushing him quietly.
"Come now, sweet thing, just let me help," Bill crooned. He moved his hand from Dipper's face to the scar hidden beneath Dipper's shirt and laid his palm flat on it. Dipper flinched, bracing for more pain but it didn't come. "You already belong to me."
Dipper tried to shake his head in protest; however, the effort felt too great.
Bill clicked his tongue again. "Always such a fighter." He spread his fingers out over the mark on Dipper's chest before sliding his hand upwards to cup Dipper's cheek. He thumbed softly across Dipper's trembling lips once more. Bill lowered his voice slightly, just above a whisper. "You don't have to fight. I can take care of you if you would let me."
Dipper gazed up at him through blurry eyes. He just wanted it to stop. To stop hurting. To stop running.
"Just say the word," Bill asserted softly. He was smiling. That same disorienting smile that did not quite reach his eyes. That boyish face, with it's freckles and shining golden eyes that had entranced him in the woods, painting the picture of innocence that Dipper just could not quite convince himself to believe. And yet, the thumb slowly stroking down the side of his face felt nice. Almost comforting.
Dipper swallowed hard. His throat burned with the effort. "P-." He tried. Tears stung his eyes once more and Bill brushed them away gently.
"Say it," Bill prompted again.
"P-please," Dipper rasped out pitifully.
Bill made a soft humming sound as if he was thinking and for a moment Dipper was afraid Bill might change his mind. After all, he had done it before. "I have a condition - a rule for our game, if you will," Bill said. He shifted on his feet until he was kneeling down beside Dipper's limp body.
Dipper almost sobbed out in frustration. He just wanted it to stop. He felt he would do anything. He managed to make himself nod slowly, though even that small movement sent another wave of searing pain through his neck and shoulder.
Bill flashed his too sharp teeth, his eyes taking on a hint of that blue glow again. "You have to come with me." As he finished, another loud crack of thunder sent light flashing across Bill's face.
Dipper's head lolled to the side, facing away from the blonde's shoes towards the hallway door. He exhaled heavily as tears and blood dripped sideways over the bridge of his nose. "I can't," he thought. "I can't just give in..."
"Think about it," Bill crooned at the side of his head. "You bring danger with you wherever you go, Dipper. Wouldn't everyone be safer that way? That's what you want, after all, to keep everyone safe." There was a pause, it seemed Bill was dissatisfied with his lack of a response and tsked in annoyance. "Unless of course, you would rather stay here. That can be arranged. However, I couldn't guarantee that your sister would be-."
"No," Dipper snapped. It took all of his energy to whip his head back towards Bill. "If you... touch her..." he wheezed.
Bill seemed amused by his response. "You'll do what?" He taunted. After a moment of tense silence Bill stood, hands in his pockets, and circled Dipper slowly. Dipper tracked him with his eyes as the blonde moved to his other side. Bill lifted his sneakered foot and prodded Dipper's injured shoulder with the toe of his shoe, making Dipper hiss in pain. "Go on," Bill prompted, "make your choice."
Dipper glared at him. His jaw clenched so hard his teeth hurt. His dislocated shoulder throbbed painfully.
"Tick, tock," Bill sing-songed. Thunder boomed through the shack once more. Again, when Dipper did not respond, Bill lifted his foot. He placed it against Dipper's shoulder and began to press down on it, causing Dipper to gasp in pain.
"S-stop!" Dipper screamed. He tried to roll away, but the pressure on his shoulder was too intense and Bill's foot held him in place.
"Choose," Bill demanded, baring his teeth once more.
Dipper couldn't scream anymore. Couldn't force any more air into his lungs. His vision was blurry, splotches of black creeping in around the edges. He opened his mouth to respond, to give anything that could even be interpreted as one, but all that came out was a strangled noise.
Bill made a small hmph sound before he pressed down with more force.
"Okay!" Dipper screeched with such desperation he felt the word tear its way out of his throat. Immediately after, Bill removed his foot and the room was filled with the deafening sound of the rain pounding against the windows. Dipper stared up at the ceiling, eyes unseeing, chest heaving for air, wracked with small hiccupped sobs. He couldn't see Bill above him, but he could practically feel the blonde's smug grin.
"Good."