Bill Cipher Gravity Falls Drawings Novels & Stories

Something fluttered from her hands as she turned the corner, a piece of paper, drifting slowly before landing near my chair. Silence swallowed the room, causing my stomach to drop. I stood up slowly and walked over, my movements heavy, like gravity had suddenly doubled. I bent down and picked it up. A drawing. Crayon and paint, bright and uneven, edges smudged with fingerprints. I stared at it. Three figures stood in front of a house. The woman had long hair and a wide smile. The little girl stood in the middle, holding both their hands. And the man, tall, broad, unmistakable stood on the other side.

He now had Baden’s attention. ‘Nnnggggrrrrrrrrr!’ cried Baden, in a cry which crossed a banshee’s howl with that of a man falling out of a window. Baden let go of the telephone wire and realised he had been had by the gonads, and all he could do was hop, snivel and whimper in excruciating pain. Billy released his bite and jumped up, red in the face, his brain buzzing from lack of oxygen. He saw a heavy, bronze sculpture on Baden’s bookshelf and grabbed it with two hands. He raised it above his head as high as he could.

I grabbed it, didn’t bother with a glass, and collapsed onto the couch. Lily jumped up a minute later, climbing onto my lap like she knew. Like she could smell the storm building in my chest. I scratched behind her ears absently and unfolded the drawing again. She tilted her head and looked at it too. “You don’t even know what this is,” I whispered, letting a faint laugh escape. “But fine. You can look.” Her nose bumped against the edge of the paper, then she settled her chin on my thigh. I unlocked my phone for the first time in hours.

A piece of paper fluttered out. It was a drawing. Crayons on construction paper. Catherine picked it up, and her blood ran cold. The drawing showed two stick figures standing on a jagged white line (the ice). One was labelled "Daddy," drawn in blue. The other was labelled "Sad Man," drawn in red. They were fighting. But above them, the sky was ripped open. A black hole was drawn in the clouds. And coming out of the hole wasn't light. It was a tentacle. A massive, black, spiraling limb covered in eyes.

I order and watch the boys run back towards the building as fast as they can. I watch with concern as the young boy they were picking on sniffs and works to pick up pieces of his sketchbook. I bend down and help him pick up the remaining pieces before they’re carried off by the wind. I look at one of the pieces of paper and can’t contain the awe on my face as I take in the amazing sketch before me. It’s this incredible real-life style drawing of a sirna with a vibrant red tail surrounded by all the elements. It takes me a second to recognise the likeness, but this is a sketch of the God Ezillus as a sirna! This might be the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. “You drew this?” I ask in astonishment

I tipped my chin to the direction of the drawing and saw my boy's eyes light up. He reluctantly moved away, revealing the painting of two caricature of adults holding hands. Although it wasn't well-painted, I could see it depicted a man and a woman. "Mmh!" I hummed in approval. "This is the most beautiful piece of art I've ever seen. Here." I reached into my pocket, took out some cash, and offered it to Williams. He eagerly took it from me. "That's a tip for such wonderful art. Once you agree on a selling price, I'll send you more money and buy this." Williams grinned, and I smirked.

"Then give me a reason to let you. Give me something worth five million dollars, Brittany. Because right now? All I see is a traitor." He reached for his belt, his eyes dark with a hunger that wasn't just about revenge. But as he leaned in, a small, crinkled piece of paper fell out of the hidden pocket in Brittany’s red dress. Houston picked it up before she could grab it. It was a crayon drawing. Three stick figures with messy black hair, holding hands under a yellow sun. At the bottom, in shaky four-year-old handwriting, it said, WE LOVE MOMMY. The silence in the room became deafening.

I pull out the paper from my pocket, and hold it where Sarah can take it. “This is for you. With any changes you think it needs.” She opens the folds, holding it firmly because the wind is trying to take it away. I remember the vampire jeweller’s drawing, all stark black lines on white, clean and precise. This is my own hand, and the red-gold of the stone is a flame in the center of the black and white page. Sarah turns the paper this way and that, tilting her head as well, following the curving line of music. “The ninth,” she says softly. “You remembered.”

Masks on. Strong again. Lily runs in holding a drawing. Three stick figures. One tall. One with long hair. One small. And a motorcycle. “That’s you,” Lily says to me proudly. My chest tightens. Mara sees it too. Fear flickers in her eyes. Attachment. Evidence. Risk. “You draw fast,” I say evenly. Lily grins. “Uncle Biker stands in front,” she adds. Mara’s eyes close briefly. Just for a second.

The right side still blank where he had known something was missing but hadn't known what. He picked up his pencil. He drew something on the right side. He turned it toward me. A figure. Tall. With a coat. Standing at the right side of Captain Fossil's house. Belonging there. I pressed my fingers flat against the table. "Yes," I said. "That's what goes there." Noah nodded. He put the drawing back in its place. He picked up the rose quartz and began the third reorganization. I sat at the kitchen table with my tea and the glittery star sticker and the drawing on the desk with the tall figure at the right side of the house and thought about three PM in Manhattan and everything that was moving t