On My Mind

Chapter 1

1970- Gravity Falls, Oregon

He set down the last box, breathing a deep sigh of relief. Everything he had- everything that would go to his studies- was in here. He had his whole life packed up in twenty so boxes, and a bed too.

This was the cabin out in the woods that Stanford had been saving all of his money (from his part time job he worked during college) to buy. He had worked so hard, and now his plans were coming full circle. Stanford had been interested in this corner or Oregon for a few years now, and was heavily intruiged by everything he heard, it was a place full of anomalies. The next state over even made it theoretically a felony to shoot bigfoot.  He was really into the paranormal, and investigations, since he was a kid running around the New Jersey beaches.

Well. Now he'd have to unpack everything, which he couldn't wait to do. Something was telling him that it could wait though. Wait. It urged. You're tired. See the sights, take a nap. Anything but lounging around. There was just... This feeling, deep in his guts. Like some sort of instinct. He couldn't unpack quite yet, nor could he lay down. Wait, you have things to see.

So Stanford opened up the last box he brought in, packed in it were several red journals. None were written on. The journal's pages were large, and this off white color. Perfect for drawings, side notes, diagrams, etc etc...

He grabbed one and stuffed it into the pocket of his dark trench coat. He bought it a week previously because he heard it got chilly out here, and he didn't want to catch a cold.

Eagerly, he made his way to the front door of the shack, walking past the door without bothering to lock it. He breathed the cool air in, feeling estatic and full of energy. He had been looking into this place for months- no years! And he was excited to finally be here.

The trees were tall and thin, but the thick brush held a lot of water. The ground was thick and muddy. It had been raining recently, Stanford guessed.

He walked into a clearing. The grass glowed under the little bit of sunlight shining through the pine trees. It was so colorful... And beautiful, he expressed his thoughts out loud.

On the other side of the clearing there was another tree. That's all there was here really. In this quiet. Just him, and the trees, and the birds.

But this tree, there was something carved into it. Stanford adjusted his glasses, and walked closer to see the carving.

Enscribed on the thick bark was a drawing. Some kind of summon circle, with these symbols. A hat, a pine tree, a shooting star, an ice pack, a question mark, a broken heart, a lone star.... And a six fingered hand.

Looking from his hand, to the hand on the tree, he set his hand on the tree by the depiction. Just like his hand. Your hand.

The tree called to him, called for his words. It called for the incantation to set him free.

Scribbled all over the circle was this ancient script, a writing system no one had touched since the white man came and took it. And miraculously, Stanford could read each word as clearly as he could read his first language.

Scribbled at the top were warnings not to repeat the words below. Ignore that. Please.

He stammered the incantation once. When nothing happened, he tried again, more sure of himself this time. Again. There was nothing. The wind blew idly. He tried one last time. Shouting it. Nothing.

Stanford turned away from the clearing. Well there was a fake bit of summoning right there.

"DID YOU JUST CALL ME FAKE?" A voice rang in his ears, startling him out of his skin.

"Haha, not literally of course. Nobody is getting out of their skin anytime soon."

Confused, Stanford let go of his head that he had been holding previously. What was he hearing? Did it actually work? What would happen now?

He got a poke in the shoulder. "Behind you," he said, "what you're hearing is behind you."

Stanford turned his head to the sight of a floating triangle. He was just like the one depicted in the center of the circle. He was pyramid like, with the lines. But curiously, was only two dimensional. He had a bow tie and a top hat. In between the two things, was a singular eye. It was wide and seemed to drag everything in the vicinity to it. Like a black hole.

He gaped at it, very much engrossed. It was stunning. Out of this world.

He chuckled "Awwww. I'm so flattered." he blinked harshly. Was that a wink?

"Yes, it actually worked. And what will happen now? Well I don't know. You're the one who called me here." He circled around him in the air, following him with his large eye. "And.... Heh. Maybe it was."

Stanford blinked. Um what? "C-can you read my mind?"

The triangle clapped his hands. "Wow! You sure are a smart one!"

He cleared his throat, trying not to act too much like an excited fan girl. The first day he's living here, and he may have just struck gold! "What are you?"

Stanford coughed, he meant who are you. His face burned red. He made to apologize, but was interrupted.

"Nahhh, don't be sorry. It's fine! Common mistake!" He patted him on the back. "Who I am is simple. I'm Bill Cipher. Every 100 or so years, I meet up with an intelligent human like you, and bestow upon them my knowledge. It really is vast." His eye flashed with imagery for a brief moment before returning to those cat like irises.

"As for what I am... Well... You can say I'm a bit of a... Dream demon." He said.

Turning his head back to the tree, Stanford frowned. "A demon."

He grabbed onto his shoulder. "For lack of better word. Your language really is limited. Another word could be spirit... Or muse even."

Stanford's frown left his face. "So you want to teach me?"

"Everything I know." He responded.

He glanced at him with some suspicion. "Do you want anything in return?"

He stared for a moment before shrugging. "A friend maybe. Yeah. Maybe a friend would be nice. The dreamscape does get awful lonely."

"So my friendship for your knowledge?" Stanford asked. It didn't sound bad at all. It sounded really good actually. This demon certainly was a charming being.

He gave him a happy expression. "Yes. Shake on it?" he held his hand as his eye was glowing brighter.

Stanford met his eye that seemed to reel him in. His hand was holding the other's smaller hand before he knew it. It was warm, and steadily getting warmer. He realized Bill's hand had caught on fire, oddly enough it did not burn, it was just pleasantly warm.

Later Bill would tell him that this was how he made deals, and that these deals were always important to keep. He would keep his, and he expected nothing less from his geniuses.

Bill's hand bound them together in flame, and nothing would come to break this bond anytime soon.