Fallen Gods

The Creatures in the Woods

"I'm Dipper," Dipper said.

"Sorry for snapping at you," the teen said, smiling. He took Dipper's hand, and Dipper helped him up. Something about the teen was familiar, and not in a good way. It made him feel uneasy. He stared at the teen, trying to figure out why he was familiar. Bill continued to smile. "I'm, um, William," he blurted, extending his hand, looking nervous.

Dipper didn't take it. For some reason, it felt... ominous, somehow. He knew it was rude, but- something about him just put Dipper on edge. Bill frowned, and stuck his hands back in his pockets.

Dipper wasn't quite sure what put him on edge. There was something about this boy... Maybe it was those strange, gorgeous eyes that looked like liquid gold. They were strangely familiar. The hair on the back on his neck rose. "Er, anyway, have a nice day," Dipper said, walking quickly away from him. Liquid gold... that hat... He stopped dead in his tracks. "Billiam, erm, I mean, Bill!" he breathed, racing back home.

*******

Bill checked out his items, walked outside, and slumped against the wall, and stared at his odd, fleshy hands, which had begun to shake. What's happening to me? He wondered. His stomach was doing impressive gymnastics moves in his stomach, and his breathing quickened as he remembered those brown eyes, so innocent, so untroubled by the fact that he'd destroyed all of his dreams, everything he'd worked for, for millions of years, that had led up to that moment, and those stupid, insufferable twins had gotten in the way. He couldn't seem to get in enough air, and a feeling he'd become familiar with recently ran through him, pure and undiluted. Panic. He gasped for air ,shaking even harder.

He closed his eyes, trying to block out the images, but they came unbidden, anyway, springing into his mind, a dam unblocked. He let out a sob, his emotions spiraling, his vision blurring. "It's ok," he whispered to himself. "It's ok." He rocked back and forth, repeating the words until they felt true. He snapped his finger, and he was dressed impeccably, in a blazer patterned with yellow and black bricks, a bowtie, and high-heeled shoes. He still felt like his insides had been wrung out and twisted, but the outfit calmed him down.

If you act like you're in control, than other people believe it, too. He steadied himself, but another bolt of fear zipped through him, and he wondered why his emotions were stronger in this form. So when will I believe it?

********

Dipper ran home, breathless and stricken with terror. He threw open the door, and it hit the wall with a bang. "Dip Dop?" Mabel asked, concerned, immediately putting down her fashion magazine. "What's wrong?"

"Bill," Dipper panted. "Bill... Bill, he's-"

Mabel got up surprisingly quickly, guiding Dipper to a chair. "Take a minute to catch your breath, and then tell me," she instructed. As worried as she was at Dipper's tone and state, she knew that he wouldn't make sense if he could hardly gasp out anything.

Dipper caught his breath and then panicked, began to talk. "IranintosomeoneinthegrocerystoreIhelpedthempickuptherestuffthenIwaslike,'areyouok'andhewaslike'yeahI'mfinemyname'sWilliamandthenIrealizeditwasBill!!!"

"Geez, Bro-bro, chill out for a sec. I need you to slow down, I have no idea what you just said." Mabel smiled worriedly at her brother.

"I saw Bill at the grocery store!"

Mabel's face turned pale. "You mean- him?" she choked out, dreading the answer.

Dipper nodded solemnly. "Yeah, that Bill." 

Just then, Grunkle Stan came downstairs in his boxers, scratching his stomach. "Huh? What's this about Bill? You kids and your theories. Why can't you just let a triangle guy die without coming up with a bunch of alternate ideas of what might've happened?" He sighed.