To say the summer nights were peaceful would be an understatement. Nary a form lingered in the darkening expanses of the woods besides the fireflies, lazily drifting as wandering stars in canopies of green skies. The air was balmy, and the moon began its nightly trek across the starry ocean. Residing in the cradle of the forest was a small, rickety establishment entitled the Mystery Shack.
The inhabitants of the rustic tourist attraction were enthralled in slumber, however the sleep of one member was interrupted by a sudden vision. Perceiving this revelation as a mere dream would be insulting to the force it held. The man who was bestowed this vision, known to family and friends as Stanley Pines, peered into the television screen after haven fallen asleep in its comforts yet again. The vision was hazy, but it beheld bursts of crimson skies and blurred, misshapen beasts lumbering about the landscape. At the center of it all, a breach of yellow.
Yellow, a yellow something. It could speak, he recalled that. Though when he strained to decipher the voice, all that came back to him was unintelligible tongue. The vision grew more vivid, sending pulses of pain about Stanley’s skull. A triangle, a solitary piercing eye, came fluttering about his forgotten memories. He remembered. The demon, Bill Cipher, had returned to his thoughts. After nine years, the fragments of his encounters with the interdimensional being had solidified back into a single idea.
Once this recollection was revived, he was seized by a tremor, sparks of pain and electricity surged through his mind as a presence resurfaced. “ILQDOOB!” the familiar voice boomed as spasms of code colours, and shapes recollected themselves into a thin glitched form of the infamous Bill Cipher. The being opened the door of Stanley's memories to trek into the white plain of his Mindscape.
“What? Wait- No-!” Before the man could utter more, a wisp of yellow energy purged itself from his eyes and mouth, stifling his screams and stripping him of energy as he slumped back into the recliner. Stanley fell unconscious soon after, unable to see the phantasmic state of the dream demon, appearing more as a ghost now, glowing weakly and being much smaller.
“L jrwwd kdqg lw wr brx wkhuh, Vwdqohb, You and Sixer almost managed to kill me off for good!” The demon tried to laugh, though the sound came hoarse and weak. “Now then, time to get my physical body back and bring some life back into this party!” the phantom of a demon rasped with a tip of his blurred hat as he wavered out of the aging establishment and off into trees.
“Now, where could it be…?” the demon asked no one in particular, scouring the forest floor for some time until he eventually happens upon a stone arm jutting from the moss and vegetation. “Aha!” he cackled before hovering down to the stone cast of himself. “Long time no see, handsome,” Bill patted the imperfect, crumbled surface of the petrified statue's eye. Given his current state, the statue was now about twice his size. Then, without further ceremony, he entered the statue. With a burst of light, the stone slowly melted away into glowing brick and the demon erupted the rest of his lodged body from the earth, startling many of the forest inhabitants from slumber.
Bill floated up, looking around and began to laugh as he ignited a blue flame in his hand. “All right! Now it’s time to-” the demon started, only to watch the flame go out without his instruction, “What?!” he shouted, only to cause his radiant glow to flicker and dim as he dropped unceremoniously to the forest floor now unable to stay afloat. “What’s happening to me?” the demon observed his hands, concentrating on trying to summon a fire, conjure his cane, do something. Instead, his form began faltering evidently failing to maintain its stability, “No! I can’t lose my tangible form! There’s no way I’m going back to rotting in the Nightmare Realm for another trillion years!” he blazed, his anger causing his form to break apart even more.
“I need to change into something that takes less power to stabilize,” the ruler of dreams theorized as he struggled to stand. Though he was reluctant, Bill summoned the last ounce of his usable magic to transfigure himself. Another burst of light came, and the demon energy was spent. Bill did not know what form he had taken on, but all he knew was he felt rather… tired. The world began to spin before him and he felt much heavier. It did not take long for Bill, the being of pure energy with no weaknesses, to collapse onto the mossy dirt incapable of supporting even himself.