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Your dreams usually are pretty incoherent. Sure, they make sense at the time, with schools morphing into zoos as you float out of your body and view the shifting scene as if it’s just a movie. Mom’s a werewolf wagging her tail as she kisses Dad’s cheek, and the public pool is made of pink jello.
It’s strange in hindsight, but it’s just a jumble of barely-connected thoughts your brain’s dumping together into soup. There isn’t much behind them besides your brain getting rid of the junk from the day.
Most of the time, that is.
Tonight, though, something’s different. You’re floating in the sky, a gigantic book below you like a magic carpet, and miscellaneous objects are scattered around, resting on clouds. Usually your dreams begin normally and spiral into the absurd, but this one is starting strange. You flop down on top of the book and let your arm dangle down, fingertips brushing fluffy cloud that feels like snow.
“Hey there, Curly!” You sit up and turn around to see- exactly what Stanford warned you about. A triangle in a top hat and a bow tie is floating with one hand on his cane, which is itself balancing on a neatly stacked pile of gold bars. He looks like an acrobat. “Nice subconscious you got here!”
At his words, the clouds surrounding the both of you begin to darken from fluffy white to the gray of a dead tree.
“Stanford said not to listen to whatever you said.”
The triangle jumped up, now balancing on the cane with his left foot. “Sure he did, but are you really gonna listen to that nerd over someone who can offer you whatever you want? Name’s Bill, Bill Cipher, and I’m here to make your dreams come true.”
“You can give me whatever I want? Right.” You stand up, but barely bite back a scream as the book you’re standing on flips the page and shoves you off. Falling lasts only a moment before your butt lands in the cap of a medicine bottle, and Bill has settled to sitting on the cloud, the cane having disappeared entirely.
“Really! In fact, let’s see what’s working in that brain of yours, hmm?” He snapped his fingers, and both of you are snapped to-
Oh no. Oh no no no no-
“And that’s where I found the thumb. It was a real pain to haul it back, let me tell you, but it does set the mood, doesn’t it?”
He’s smiling genuinely for the first time since you’d met, and you want nothing more than to keep him that way.
“Yeah, it is really neat.” Your hand hovers over his, but when he lifts it to reach for his mug of lukewarm coffee you snatch yours away.
“I should have started talking to the townspeople more before now. You’ve grown up with the paranormal oddities here. The strangest I saw growing up was a mutated sea turtle with two heads.”
“Oh, that’s interesting! Did it talk?”
He laughs. “No, it didn’t talk. But see, there! You just assumed that it would be intelligent, from what you know of animals around here. That’s fascinating. I could have done my entire thesis simply on how being around the supernatural changes one’s perspective.”
“Well, I’d be glad to tell you anything you want.”
He opened his mouth, but then closed it, eyes dropping to his lap.
“Oooh, hit a sore spot there. Wonder what he’s so worried about? I can see what you want, though!” He smacked your head with the cane- where had it come from, hadn’t he vanished it before?- and then waved his hand.
This time, the image swirled out of the clouds around you. A waterfall of blood poured out, and at a spash something below whimpered, before Bill rolled his eye. “Darn reception.” Another handwave, and the blood evaporated into red mist.
The clouds shifted again, twisting like a draining bathtub into…
“I told you it’s a long story.” Stanford snapped. “I’m a mess and I don’t know why you bother!”
“I bother because I want to help.” You set a hand on his shoulder, and he turns away, leaving your hand to trail down his back and fall limp.
“Let’s go deeper, shall we? How did you feel?” Bill waved again, and the clouds drain again, creating an image within the memory.
An image of you pulling him into a hug, tighter, hands creeping closer together, him lifting his chin to gently press your lips together as your fingers interlock and-
“Stop!” Even in this odd dreamspace you still flush, and Bill’s glow flares, the desires and complicated feelings woven into the memory twisting your chest even as the images vanish with a ‘pop!’.
“Oh, it’s so easy to rile you humans up.” He wipes at his eye, flicking away a teardrop that causes a nearby fairy to explode.
“Cut to the chase. What do you want?”
“Well, I want lots of things! A choir of bears, a pet made entirely of teeth, blue moon ice cream. But from you, I’d like a little help with a project of mine! And in return, I can get you what you want. Or more specifically, who you want.” Out of a nebulous cluster of stars Stanford stepped out, smiling and holding out his hand. His clothes have been wiped clean of the grease and dirt and blood, and his eyes are sparkling and bright.
“Thank you for everything. Would you like to stay over longer? Maybe we could watch a movie… or something more?” He sounds hopeful and his face is soft and heavenly, hair gently fluttering.
You push yourself up out of the cap, almost in a trance as you reach for him, before the words of the real Stanford slam into your mind.
“Don’t listen to a word they say, and don’t ever shake their hand.”
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” Your hand drops, and you cross both arms across your chest.
“Come on, Curly, it’s not that hard of a choice! I’m a deity, I just want a little help.” He floats closer. “Besides, Fordsy could really use you. Hell knows he needs someone to keep him in line and taking care of himself. If he goes on like this much longer he’s gonna pass out one day and not wake up, and nobody wants that, right? I’m not just helping you, I’ll be giving him a second chance What can I say, I’m a nice guy! You get what you want, he gets what he needs. Two for the price of one.”
He duplicates, and the second Bill speaks. “You’ll have someone who knows what you’ve been through.”
A third Bill. “All you’ll have to do is press a few buttons.”
A fourth. “It’s a once in a lifetime offer, and it’s easy to tell he already likes you! I’ll just give him the courage to admit it!”
All four merge back into one, and he morphs into Stanford, and speaks with his voice, blue flames blooming from his six-fingered hand. “I want to help you. All I need is a little favor. What do you say?”
You swallow, heart thumping.
He’s lying. It can’t be that easy, and if Stanford was that worried he must be bad, and if you’re right he’s the one that threatened you.
“No.”
“What did you say?” His hand falls, and his eyes narrow. They look infected, yellow veins creeping through the sclera.
“I said no. I don’t trust you.”
With a 'pop!’ he’s back to his triangular self. “Well, can’t win them all! Here’s something to remember me by!” Your old stuffed unicorn appears in your arms, mouth full of ragged teeth made of glass, and bites off your hand. Gore begins to sluggishly ooze out and the bone lets out a SNAP.
“Toodles!” He snaps his fingers, and the cloud you’re standing on disappears, leaving you falling with a scream until you sit up with a start.
Your face is covered in sweat and the clock says it’s 4 am. You don’t get back to sleep that night.