The Unknown

1

Dipper Pines had a brilliant idea.

This idea was going to get him all the answers he could have wanted and then some. It was, albeit, degrading and he was going to later hate himself for this, but it was worth it he decided.

The preteen worked diligently, dragging his nervous yet nimble fingers across the aged floorboards. More than a few times he would have to go back and re-saturate his fingers with the ‘paint’ so he could continue; the ‘paint’ was a small bowl of his own blood that he’d drawn from his arm when carving protection runes into his skin. The initial intent was just to use the blood for the portal but the idea of defensive runes came to him after the first cut, and he was going to need all the protection he could get.

Dipper connected the lines at three points, effectively painting a triangle in the floor. He then grabbed the black and yellow candles set aside with the blood bowl and placed them at each of the vertices, carefully making sure that they were all perfectly centered on the tips. It wasn’t yet time to light them–that came last for longevity purposes. Next, he picked up the sketch he’d done earlier that evening, which had really just been him tracing the lines out of his journal (because he wanted to make sure he got everything just right! Any flaws in his plan could lead to unforeseen and undesirable consequences), and placed it in the center of the diagram. Then came the black mirror, the dark glass was the gateway into the realm where the demon dwellt. He placed it in the center next to the sketch, making sure not to scuff the blood drawing as he reached over it. Taking a deep breath he stood back and mused at his handiwork. From what he could tell, it was flawless, but just in case he still had the runes on his arms, which he promptly checked again for accuracy.

This was it, do or die.

Or both.

A grating sound came as Dipper struck a match across its matchbook, and a sizzle sounded as the ember flared up and settled, burning small and bright. He started with the two bottom candles–the yellow ones–that were closest to him. First the one on the left, then the right. Finally, taking a deep breath, he leaned forward on his knees and brought the flame to the wick of the black candle peaking the image. As it caught, he muttered to himself a small protective incantation just to be safe. The boy scooted back and looked down into his journal. He had written this summoning setup into the book on his own, as it was a more generic, flexible summon that would likely work for various types of demons. But Dipper wanted one demon in particular.

“Triangulum, entangulum,” he spoke very clearly, keeping his voice strong and unwavering. “Veneforis dominus ventium. Veneforis venetisarium.” His eyes began to glow and radiate cerulean flame-like waves. He doubled over, grasping his stomach tight. His entire body shook from end to end. After a brief moment, he unclenched and bent backwards, involuntarily chanting incomprehensible gibberish in a stream of hypnotic muttering.

A sourceless thunder crashed and the world around Dipper promptly drained of colour, the greyscale racing along the walls until the entire room had faded into a sea of grey tones. A slow, maniacal laughter that made Dipper’s skin crawl reverberated through the room. The boy stared intently ahead into the black rift that had appeared, suspended in midair. Then, everything fell silent.

“Aw, Pine Tree, did ya miss me?” a, rather obnoxious, voice sounded from nowhere in particular. Dipper made no response. The rift suddenly fabricated a bow tie and a top hat. Arms and legs popped out on either side of it while a white bubble appeared in the blank area just above where lines formed in a brick-like pattern. A sliver of black rolled in from the top of the white bubble and stared down at the preteen boy on his knees. “Of course you did, why else would you’ve called me here?” The yellow, triangular demon floated down to meet Dipper’s height. “To make a deal? Not you, right?! Ha ha, you’d never be so dumb as to make a deal with ‘Bill Cipher’!” He made air quotes with his fingers when he spoke his name. After another moment of Dipper’s silence, Bill leaned back and crossed his arms behind himself, then crossed his legs. “Pine Tree, I’m insulted,” he said. Dipper knit his brows and cocked his head slightly. “This summoning alter is so basic. You could call something as weak as an imp with this. You couldn’t even trouble yourself to find my summoning alter in that lame journal of yours?” Dipper took a deep breath and spoke.