Oak Tree | BillDip

Chapter 9 - Beacon of Light

Dipper cried. Why do I always cry? I never used to cry before this. He should be strong. There was a way to reverse this, right? Yeah.

Ever since that morning when he woke up, he explored almost all of the Fearamid this time. No one bothered him. They just scented him, looked at him with a new light shining in their eyes, and went away.

He'd finally found a place where he could be by himself. It wasn't the library—he'd went in there earlier and it just gave him a headache. The entrance also reminded him of his... turning.

This was a room not like the rest of the castle. Its colors didn't scream at you. There were no rainbows filling in the black bricks. Instead, it was a room where he could think of a place and it would be there.

It was a forest.

He knew nothing in it were real. He knew everything was just an illusion, yet he found himself petting a deer and splaying across the cool green grass and looking at the blue, non-polluted sky. Oh, how he had missed this! How had he not found this place before? No one seemed to come in it anyway.

He paused where he was resting in a tree, just looking out, and felt his palm—ow, it still stung. He wondered if he had healing powers now that he was a demon so he could heal it.

"No." No, he shouldn't, couldn't use his powers. He felt sick when he thought of him using actual demon powers like Bill's.

Then he felt an unnatural cooling in his hand. He looked down and saw a yellow flame. He yelped and tried to wave his hand to put it out, but it wouldn't go away.

That was when Bill came again.

"Bill!" He called. "Make it go!"

Bill floated up into the tree and inspected the flame in his hand. He hummed, "Seems like your magic came already. Nice job, kid! Soon, you'll be performing all types of things."

"What do you mean?" Stupid question, Dipper.

Bill looked at him incredulously. Dipper didn't let himself shrink back. "You'll be training with me, obviously!"

With Bill?

"Yes!"

Oh, he hates when Bill reads his mind like that!

Then the flame got larger. "Bill!" He squealed.

Bill snorted and he had a cheerful gleam to his eye. "Look, kid, if you hadn't noticed already, your magic is connected to your emotions. You're going to have to learn to control those emotions. Now that you're a—" don't say it, "—demon, it's going to be harder."

Then flame just grew in size and Dipper tried to calm his racing heart. The forest got darker. He felt his mind get foggy and he was losing his sense of focus. His peripheral vision blackened. His throat was restricted. What do I do?

The flame continued to get larger. It now covered his whole left arm.

Bill said something, but Dipper couldn't hear him over the roaring filling his head.

Then he heard it.

You belong to me.

No, don't trust him!

You're mine.

You are a coward.

A wave of blackness slammed over Dipper. He was falling over, but he felt something keep him steady.

Then he was nowhere. Nothing. Then he felt something breathing on his neck. It didn't say anything, more like feeding thoughts into his brain...

"I am hated in this world."

A wave of pleasure seeped over him.

"I am a traitor."

Dipper smiled.

"I am a disappointment. I failed."

Then there was a light. It was faint, but there it was. The purple light stood out in the darkness in front of him.

Light. Light. He tried to reach it.

Then there was a tremor in the darkness. Then the purple light turned yellow. It was too harsh on Dipper's eyes. He tried to close his eyes, but the light wouldn't go away.

"NO!"

The light went out.

He woke up.

He heard birds tweeting to each other. He heard their flapping wings. He felt the grass cool his burning body. He opened his eyes and saw nature. Was this all just a dream?

"That was no dream, kid."

The boy jumped—it hurt. He was too hot. He couldn't speak. He tried to move, but it hurt way too much.

At least the fire went away.

Bill laid a surprisingly gentle hand on his back . "You burnt out. Don't you ever let yourself into the darkness ever again." He sounded like he was telling a toddler not to eat something it wasn't supposed to.

Dipper tried to speak again, but his voice came out strangled.

He heard that voice again, that comforting voice. It was a voice that he could confide in and fall asleep to. A voice he could trust.

"You and I will meet again."