What If... (EDITED 8/28/18)

5

Stanley looked up when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. Carla was walking towards him, holding Sandra's hand. Carla saw Stanley's tear stained face, and frowned.

"Stanley, what's wrong?" she asked.

"Where's Uncle Stanford?" Sandra asked.

Stanley pulled her into a hug.

"He-he was taken," Stanley cried. "By-by the voice."

"'The voice?'" Carla asked. "You mean the voice that you told me about?"

"The vessel of the voice told me that he save my life," Stanley explained, never taking his eyes off Sandra."He is a dream demon, and his name is Bill. He said that he saved my life and that he gave me powers, which I passed onto Sandra. He said that he needs Sandra's and my help with a project he's working on. He said that we have up to three days to decide if we will help him or not, or else..."

Stanley couldn't finish. He was so choked up with sorrow.

"We'll never see Uncle Stanford again?" Sandra asked.

Stanley nodded his head, and kept crying. Carla sat next to him, and pulled her husband into a hug.

"Don't worry Stanley," Carla comforted him. "We'll find a way around this."

Oh, will you?

***

Bill looked down at the touching scene that illuminated the cave he was in.

"Don't worry Stanley. We'll find a way around this."

Carla's voice echoed throughout the cave. Bill grinned.

"Oh, will you?" Bill laughed, and swiped at the picture.

The scene faded away, and he turned to Stanford's prison. The six fingered hand blocked most of his vision, but he could make out a lone figure moving around the cramped bubble.

Stanford peered through the chains of his prison bubble to see Bill grinning at him.

"What do you want with me?" Stanford asked, his voice echoing. 

"Oh, nothing really," Bill replied, floating. "I'm just so lonely."

"What?" Stanford asked, growing scared.

"I want your brother to say no," Bill replied. "I need a helper to help me with my jobs."

"'Jobs?'" Stanford echoed. "What kind of 'jobs?'"

"Oh, you know," Bill replied, walking around the bubble. "Corrupting people's minds, taking over other dimensions, and getting a new person to help me do that."

"Why me?" Stanford asked. "Stanley apparently has the powers."

"But you have the brains," Bill replied, stopping perfectly in front of Stanford's face. "I look in your mind, and I can see that you are jealous of your brother."

Stanford turned away from Bill.

"T-That's not true," he stammered. 

"Oh, it's not?" Bill asked, replicating a whining child. Then, harshly, "Face it, Stanford. Your brother has it all. A wife, a child, and a loving brother. Except, you might not be as loving as he thinks you are."

Stanford covered his ears. No, he was not jealous. He loved his brother.

Love, love, love. It can all be quickly removed by hate. Hate, spite, jealousy, greed, envy. They engulf the human mind. Join me, Stanford. I will not let those words engulf you.

"Get out of my head!" Stanford screamed at Bill through the bubble.

Silence. That was more terrifying than Bill talking. Stanford turned around. Bill was nowhere to be seen.

I will be back. I just need to take care of something first...

A bright light shone in Stanford's face, and he shielded his eyes. Something sharp penetrated the bubble, and it popped. Stanford fell to the ground, and looked up at the figure above him. The figure held out a hand.

Stanford took it, and he was pulled into a standing position. He was facing a man who had light brown hair, rounded glasses that rested on his nose, a tan lab coat that was torn, torn brown pants, black boots, and a white shirt covered with so much dirt on it, it looked brown. He wore a brown bandanna, and had black war paint under his eyes.

"Who are you?" Stanford asked in confusion.

"Fiddleford Hadron McGucket," he answered. "A former helper of Bill Cipher."