Darker Perspective

Chapter 13

Dipper quietly sat at his desk in the mindscape, waiting for Bill to arrive. He drummed his fingers against the wood with a small sigh. It was strange for the demon to be late – or maybe he was early. He did choose to go to bed at a ridiculous time, just so he could escape reality. Everyday it got worse and worse, and so he was getting to bed earlier and earlier. And now he was on "borrowed time", as Bill said, until the world caught up with him.

"It's just when." Dipper thought out loud, replaying the night's events in his head as he waited.

He was forced to eat dinner with the rest of his family that night, and it went as great as he expected it to be. No one talked to him, but rather communicated to each other in silent looks and nods. Of course, they thought Dipper was dumb enough to not notice. And Mabel, who knew of Dipper's intelligence, didn't stop it.

It was awkward, strained and tiring, and Dipper rather had not eaten again to avoid it. But Stan had pushed him downstairs, muttering something about "getting in trouble for letting him eat nothing."

The meal hadn't even been that great – soggy chips with glitter (thanks to Mabel) sprinkled over the top. He could still taste some in his mouth.

He had needed the meal, however, as he was beginning to black out after not wanting to eat for almost five days. He wanted to build back up his strength, but for what he didn't know yet.

"Well, look who's early! Never thought I'd see that!" Dipper turned at Bill's loud greeting, finding him sitting next to him in another seat.

"I think you're late." Dipper answered, slouching back in his chair. Bill rolled his eye, springing out of his seat again. Dipper wondered why he even bothered sitting down in the first place.

"I'm never late! I can manipulate time!" Bill retorted childishly. "And it's not going to be a long lesson tonight."

Dipper tilted his head in confusion, knowing the demon usually liked to talk for hours. The demon was rather fond of his own voice.

"Why?" He asked. Bill hovered higher into the air, growing slightly larger.

"This is more of a "take away and think about it" lesson more than anything." The demon replied seriously. Dipper straightened up, opening his book. So he was surprised when Bill, with a snap of his fingers, closed it again. The book disappeared in his hands in a burst of flame.

"I want you to listen, and don't interrupt." Bill actually seemed slightly (ever so slightly) nervous. "Understand?"

"Yes." Dipper answered quietly. He watched as the triangle began to glow slightly.

"You asked me what I was planning. I'd thought I'd give you the answer sooner rather than later." The demon began. He paused. "Do you know where I come from, Pine Tree? A two dimensional planet. Everything flat, everything straight, plain, boring –" Bill, who's voice was quickly growing in volume, took a deep breath and composed himself. "I hated my planet. So I destroyed it."

Dipper listened cautiously, wondering where it was all going.

"I'm planning something big, something huge, something spectacular! And I want you to join me!" The demon grew suddenly excited. He raised his arms upwards and Dipper watched as a giant tear in the sky appeared above him. It's red light cast a shadow over the mindscape, making shadows shift and dance. It looked terrifying and Dipper wanted to run, but he stayed in his seat. Bill's voice became louder the larger the image grew.

"I want to renovate this world, make it my own. Everything upside down and chaotic in this beautiful three-dimensional paradise! Everything my way, the way I've always dreamed it to be! I call it Weirdmaggedon!" Bill's body shone red like the tear, and Dipper couldn't take his eyes away from the scene unfolding in front of him. "And I'm personally inviting you to leave these meat sacks behind and live a better, eternal life!"

"You want to kill all of mankind, and take the Earth?" Dipper asked quietly.

"That's the idea." Bill changed back to his usual self, but the image behind him stayed. Dipper was drawn to it once more, strangely finding something beautiful in its depths. He pushed it away.

"No." Dipper managed to say, eyes wide in fear.

He shouldn't known, he should've known all along. Why, why did he let himself believe that Bill wasn't manipulating him? He should've known that nothing lasts. Bill was using him, nothing more, nothing less. Dipper stood up abruptly, his seat clattering to the floor.

"What?" Bill asked, seemingly bewildered.

"No! I said no! I'm not your puppet!" Dipper yelled, stumbling away. The mindscape was cracking around him, the scarlet light flickering and dying.

"You tricked me! You're just like them!" Dipper laughed hysterically, raking a hand through his hair. "Why did I even listen to you?! You're a demon!"

He should've said no, but now Bill wanted him to become some kind of war machine for him? Then what? Dispose of him? Would he just be another body that Bill steps on to reach the top. It was all too good to be true, but somehow he didn't see.

Before anyone had chance to say anything more, the world collapsed around them in a swirling vortex of red and black. The blackboard, the desk, the trees – all were destroyed around him. The ground crumbled underneath him and Dipper felt himself falling through it, a stray tear slipping out of his eyelid and floating in the air above him.

Dipper fell out of his bed with a thump, eyes snapping open as he did so. It took him a while to adjust to his surroundings, the red tear in the sky still burning in his mind. He chose to stay on the floor rather than get up.

The symbol on his wrist suddenly glowed, but with a growl Dipper managed to deny Bill passage. It still stayed bold and glowing on his skin, but the teen didn't notice.

Instead he curled in on himself, retreating back to the shell he had created a few weeks ago. His possessions floated around him and, when Dipper buried his head into his knees, they combusted into a green light.

He clutched his head, unaware of the biting items around him, or the ring of fire that had surrounded him. It didn't burn his room, but stayed contained in one area, never dying.

The night stretched into day, and Dipper looked up blearily at the triangular window once the sun hit his face. The red writing on his palm caught his eye and he traced the letters with his finger.

"Trust No One." He whispered to himself. He sighed, shoving the hand into his pocket as he stood. The teen stepped through the ring of fire easily and it immediately distinguished, joining the other piles of ash on the ground.

Dipper didn't bother grabbing his jacket as he threw on some of his clothes. Sighing, he pushed some of the ash to the side with his toe before opening his door.

The rest of the shack, unfortunately, was already awake and moving. He could hear Mabel and Stan downstairs, chattering happily. Dipper wasn't aware how long he had sat in his room until now, swallowed in his misery.

He slowly began to shuffle down the hall, not even reacting as Ford studied him carefully as he walked past. Dipper found himself tending out of instinct, but relaxed when the man didn't try to talk to him. There was heartbeat of time, and then he suddenly felt large fingers clasp his wrist tightly and thrust it up into the air. He was pulled forward violently with the movement, crying out. Dipper span around, eyes widening in fear.

Ford was holding his wrist in a vice-grip – the very wrist that had the symbol etched into the skin. At that moment it chose to pulse, and any hopes of saying it was a tattoo was thrown out of the window. The teen tried to pull away but it was too late. The damage had been done.

Dipper's brown eyes met with Ford's cold, blue ones, which narrowed.

"Bill." The author muttered, his gaze burning into the younger. "So you do know something about him."