No Matter What

Chapter 5: Silver Bullets

"Gravity's a lie..."

Dipper stared around, breathing heavily. The world was blank around him, just like it had been when he had fell through the portal.

"And so is the sky..."

Dipper span his head, staring desperately in the whiteness to try and locate the voice.

He was cold, his skin numbing quickly. He began to shiver, the voice too familiar in his ears. It was a voice that had haunted him for years, the same one he had heard in his nightmares.

"Trust in the –"

Terrified, he began to run, weaving through the floating objects. He saw a shadow travelling across the ground, growing larger and larger under his feet. He ran faster.

" – all-seeing –"

He could sense something was following him, but didn't dare look back. The voice grew in volume, sounding more like an ear-splitting shriek.

" – all-knowing –"

He fell with a shout. Slowly, he looked up, eyes widening.

" – EYE!"

A blazing yellow eye was staring down at him, it's glow engulfing him entirely. Dipper screamed, scrambling backwards as it seemed to grow, laughing crazily. He became paralysed, unable to escape its haunting jeers. It was an eye that had stained his memory ever since he was twelve, he would never be able to forget.

~

"Time to go, come on!"

Dipper was startled awake at the yell. Sweat beaded at his brow, his body shaking with tremors. His hand snatched the pocket knife, pointing it out in front of him before he realised he was in no real danger.

He was in the room he had been last night, it's crumbling walls still closing him inside. No white voids.

No golden eyes.

With a sound of relief, Dipper ran a hand down his face.

"It's time to fill your end of the deal!" The voice, which he how identified as the bartender from yesterday, said. He flinched at the mention of "deal", memories still haunting him.

"That wasn't real." He told himself, standing up slowly. He grabbed his small group of belongings, shoving them in his pockets. "There's no way he's in my mind, remember..?"

He searched the room, spotting a mirror on the wall in the corner. He dashed over to it, hovering his face a few inches from the glass.

"He's gone. He's gone."

He pried back his eyelids, studying his pupils in the reflection. They were still rounded, to his relief.

"Come on! Two minutes!" The bartender yelled. Dipper jumped, turning his head to the door.

"Y-yeah!" He answered. He stepped away from the mirror hesitantly, shoving his hands in his pockets again.

His fingers searched for his medication, but found no bottles or pills. He let his shoulders slump, biting his lip.

The medication had helped his PTSD stay in check for years, keeping the worst nightmares and depressive thoughts out of his mind. It helped him no longer jump at the sight of a triangle, or jump every time someone laughed too loudly. He hadn't been without it for ages but now it was suddenly taken away from him.

"It's fine...it's fine...it's not for long..." Dipper muttered. He supposed that his lack of medication was what started the nightmare, because there was no way Bill was still alive, and out to get him.