The Unknown

2

All was silent and still. Fields of darkness stretched out in an endless expanse; existence was an illusion, time was indefinite.

A shrill cry of horrible agony tore through the dead air, followed by a deafening static crack and waves upon waves of pure torture.

Dipper’s eyes popped open. The first thing he noticed was that everything was grey. No surprise. Above him, a colourless Bill hovered with indifference plastered obviously across his face; he blinked once. Wait a second…colourless Bill? Even in the dreamscape, Bill usually retained his bright yellow pallor. The pair stared silently at each other as seconds ticked by, and nothing could have felt any more awkward than this.

Finally, when he could bear it no longer, Dipper made a move to sit up.

“Augh, what happe–” his sentence was cut short by another charge of electrifying pain that caused his body to convulse and writhe against the hard wooden floor. It was as if a torrent of hellfire blazed through his veins from the inside–out, wracking him limb from limb.

When it was finally over after those few ungodly seconds, the boy panted furiously and clutched a hand over his heart–halfway out of reflex, and halfway to make sure it was still beating.

“What the heck was that?!” he snapped, glaring up at Bill.

“Oh good, you’re awake. I just thought a couple thousand volts of pure electricity might help you come to, no need to thank me.”

“I was awake before you nearly killed me, thanks,” he groaned as he sat up. “It’s not like you were staring right at me or anything.”

“Pfft, semantics,” Bill shrugged. He rolled his eye. Dipper shook his head and ran a hand through his now-frizzy hair, rubbing it back down to how it should have been.

“How long was I out?” he asked.

“Hm, ’bout a year.”

“What?! Oh my god, no way. What am I gonna do? A year, seriously?”

“Shooting Star found herself a boyfriend, Stan Pines is dead, Red moved to Portland, and Gideon declared himself the new dictator of Gravity Falls; things are pretty great!”

“Ugh, cut the act, Bill, I know it’s not true.”

“You’re right, Shooting Star actually keeping a boyfriend is hilarious!” Dipper rubbed his eyes at this and grimaced (but he did have a point).

“Alright, Bill, time to pay up. You have my soul,” which, now that he mentioned it, Dipper noticed that the jar containing his soul was draped around Bill’s being and dangling just below his bow tie, “now it’s your turn to…pay me back.”

“To fuck you, you mean!” the other responded in his usual cheery tone, which made it only a hundred times more uncomfortable. Dipper actually cringed at the remark as he stood up and dusted himself off. He stumbled a bit, unused to his body feeling so empty and light. His legs felt like wet noodles under a weightless torso.

“Whatever. Let’s just get on with it.”

“Let’s get it on, you mea–”

“Just come on!” Dipper growled, balling his fists and marching angrily past Bill towards his bed.

“Yeesh, kid, at least let me work you over first!” Bill laughed, following behind him. Dipper decided not to dignify that with a response. Stupid triangle.

A tiny part of himself deep down wished he could take it back, play it off as a joke, but it was way too late to turn back now. Still, he knew he had to do this even if he could go back, it just sickened him is all. Hopefully, this would be over quick.