Bill Cipher

You knew, deep down it was wrong. He was wrong. You knew from the moment you laid eyes on him, something wasn’t right. You had only agreed to enter your great uncle’s mind because Mason and Mabel begged you. You had been trying to be a good sister. You had been the one to yell at them to use their imaginations, leading to the triangle shaped demon’s defeat. You should have known he wouldn’t have taken it lying down.

It starts so simply at first, just basic nightmares. Horrible ones that left you bolting upright out of bed at three AM, heart racing and palms sweating in the upstairs bedroom that’s a little too big for you. Laughter ringing in your ears, flashes of gold still visible behind your eyelids when you blink.

The escalation is slow; torture comes in a new form. Dreams of lips that taste like power, a deep rasp in your ear pressing you for taking it like a good girl. Those nights you bolt up right, body shaking for a different reason. Thighs clenched together. Neck still sore from teeth that dug sinfully sweet into your skin.

The next night you dream, he’s there. You’re lucid enough to know. “Well! Well! Well!” He laughs, his body flashes several times as he does so, the tiny triangle floats closer. “If it isn’t my favorite pet.” He coos, you blink, he’s too close too bright. Opening your eyes you see him, tall, brown skin, gold rings and a singular gold triangle earring hanging off one of his ears. He’s dark, dangerous. A single gold slitted eye stares at you. “What? You look nervous.” He grins, teeth too sharp, he circles you like a predator would its prey. “Come on, sweet thing. Don’t tell me you’re not happy to see me.” He coos.