Bill is creepy
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Most people are born with a name tattooed on their inner wrist, in every written language imaginable; some people are born without. Dipper Pines is born with a small black triangle with a flesh colored dot at the center printed neatly onto his skin, standing out against its dark backdrop like an open eye.
He doesn't know what to make of this.
His hands to shot his bag, flinging the flap open and groping desperately to find the switch blade before the hunter reached him. Footsteps steadily got louder and he didn’t dare look up. He couldn't find it. He couldn't find the damn knife. They were getting closer. His fingers finally slid over cold metal gripped the handle of his pocket knife. He yanked the thing out of the bag just as something cold and sharp pressed against his throat. Dipper froze.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the hunter said, mere inches from him.