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Delilah was running for a while now. And the tightness in her chest made it difficult to breathe. Her attempt to gather more air through her mouth backfired, and now she is wheezing her way through the streets with a dry throat.
When dizziness crept in, she forced herself to a stop. Almost collapsing onto the ground while resting on her knees, Delilah sighed, “Where would that darn dog go?”
The backdoor was open just enough to that mutt squeeze his way out, and God forbid something happens to him. Her little brother would have a cow.
"Tramp. Come here, boy."
Delilah tried to call for the dog, but her throat has still pretty dry, making her voice sound like a muffled cry.
She groaned, “Dammit.”
A shiver ran down her spine at the realization of where she was. When her heart stopped pounding through her ears, she noticed the distinctive noise coming from the train yards just upfront. That meant she was on Neibolt Street. In a rather specific place, to be exact.
She was running down Witcham Street a moment ago. That couldn’t be possible. Praying her audition was playing tricks on her, she looked around. Only to see the overgrown yard covered in weeds, dandelions, and unsightly sunflowers. From all places in Derry, that mutt had to bring her to 29 Neibolt Street.
Delilah kept staring at the old house. It was all boarded up, almost bare of its roof tiles, and slowly losing its porch to the ground. In its glory days, the Cape Code house surely had its charm. But when the train yard declined, so did the street. Most residences were empty and boarded up, but twenty-nine stood up from all of them. It just had this energy pulling you to it. Your instincts would yell at you for getting closer, but the pull of curiosity would always be stronger.
“I swear to God, Tramp. If you’re in there -“
A sudden odor caught her nose, so repulsive and intense it had her gagging for a second. She couldn’t comprehend what it was though, something about it reminded her of caged animals in a zoo, but also, putrid and rotten matter altogether.
“Gosh. Has something died here?”
Then the obituaries came to mind, the Denbrough boy, the Grogan girl, and all the others. And most recently the Corcoran boy, that is still missing, but with the odds, he’s already decaying somewhere.
“Shit...” she muttered.
What if there’s a corpse nearby? That’d explain the stench in the air. Was she in a homicide scene? The thought alone froze her in place. The mental image of the killer hiding nearby, watching and considering his chances, had her heartbeat racing again. Her palms were sweating. The thought of turning back crossed Delilah’s mind when a loud popping sound ripped a screech out of her lungs.
“Good day, young lady.”
A rather pleasant voice spoke beside her. Unconsciously, she had moved closer to face the abandoned yard. And now that she turned on her heels, she was face to face with a huge clown. The mere sight of him made her jump back.
“Jesus Christ! You scared me!”
She clutched her hand to her chest. The clown didn’t look surprised but had a sheepish smile on his plump red lips.
“Ooh, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, miss.” He bowed respectfully and bells jiggled on his costume. “silly ole Pennywise.”
She watched him in awe as he easily towered over her. He was tall, and his baggy suit made him look bigger than he could be.
"I'm sorry, you - I mean, I didn't know the circus was in town."
He giggled, and the bells jiggled once again.
"Oho, the circus is always in Derry, miss. Would you like a balloon?"
Pennywise extended one of his hands towards the blonde girl in front of him. On it, he held the string to a bright yellow balloon.
"I'm guessing that's your color."
Delilah uncomfortably crossed her arms in front of her chest. She did like yellow, but how could he know that?
Feeling nervous, she stammered, “N-no, thank you.”
He pouted, and his eyes wandered a little off to the sides.
“Are you sure? They float.”
“Yes. Look, I’m just looking for my dog -“
“Ah, lost your pooch? Well, Pennywise can help, yes, he can!”
Uneasiness was filling her guts. Something felt very off, but it was Eric’s dog, he’d rather die than lose that mongrel.
“Y-you can?”
“Why, yes! Pennywise saw a scrawny little mutt making his way down there.”
Delilah knew he meant the eyesore house. He didn’t even need to point his slender finger towards it.
She cursed in a muffled tone, “Goddammit, Tramp!”
She loathed the thought of going inside that house. But at least it probably wouldn’t have any hobos inside since it’s still July.
“Well, thank you, sir-"
“Gray. I’m Mr. Gray,” - He said and again made a little bow - “also known as Pennywise the dancing clown.”
It got oddly quiet after his introduction, and she was becoming more uncomfortable by the second. He had some vague look in his eyes, but she was sure he was staring her down, with a hint of slobber threatening to pass his lips.
“Okay, Mr. Gray.” She took some distance from him and looked again at the house. “I don’t like the idea of going in there, but at least he didn’t run into that Hockstetter boy.”
Delilah sighed somehow relieved and the clown came back to life with a curious and alert look.
"Oh?" He urged her on.
“Yeah, that kid is bad news,” she ranted. “Always hiding in that junkyard doing god knows what."
"Last week I caught him eyeing the neighbor's cat. And now she can't find it. I'm sure he has something to do with it."
Pennywise said nothing. He looked too absorbed in her rant.
"Anyway, I need to find that dog before my brother freaks out."
And she sprinted through the weedy lawn. She didn't want to stay closer to him any longer, there was something odd about all this. As Delilah moved within the overgrown grass she could still feel him staring at her.
And against her better judgment, when she reached the slumped porch she quickly looked over her shoulder, but he wasn't there anymore.
Feeling more anxious than before she worked hastily on the door.
The heavy door slammed shut behind her, and a mirror fell from the fragile wall it was hung on.
29 Neibolt was as bad on the inside as it was outside. Dust and spider webs covered the interior. There were old matted blankets with empty bottles tossed in corners, signaling the temporary stay of hobos coming from the train yard.
Delilah cautiously wandered around. Some rooms were barren even of its wallpaper, and some were cluttered with broken furniture. She was getting an eerie atmosphere from those dusty rooms; she needed to find that mutt, and fast.
"Here boy, come Tramp!"
A loud shuffle came from the kitchen.
Delilah stopped dead in her tracks, it couldn’t have been Tramp, he wasn’t a large dog. But she needed to check.
The room was empty, save from an old fridge and barren cabinets. But there was a doorway on one side that gave access to a narrow stairway. The stairs led downwards, so she assumed that in an old house like this, that should be the cellar.
She heard more shuffling coming from down there. The bottom of the stairs was dark and nothing beyond that point was visible. Her mouth was dry and her heart was in her throat.
She called again, "Tramp?"
And now a low growl was heard. The hair at the nape of her neck stood up. That wasn’t her dog.
The growls grew louder, the stairs creaked. Something was coming up, something big, and angry. Delilah froze in the doorway.
Two glowing red eyes appeared through the dark, then a snout, and then the teeth.
She cursed in her mind. That just couldn't be happening. It had brown fur, a gaping slobbering maw full of sharp teeth, and a varsity jacket. It was that stupid werewolf from that stupid movie she took Eric to watch.
Delilah didn't want to admit it, but those movies scared her. She wasn't a fan of horror movies, Eric was. She was almost 18 and scared of a fake movie monster.
But this one wasn't fake, there was no Michael Landon, only sharp talons as big as her hand.
The werewolf was getting closer. It's snarl loud enough to be deafening. The jacket it wore had peculiar fluffy red buttons, the same ones she saw before in the clown's suit.
Her eyes shot open, its claws were within reach, she finally snapped and ran.
Or at least she tried to.
An intense pain shot through her left leg. She screamed as the wolf’s sharp talons pierced through her calf and brought her down. Delilah hit the floor with full force.
Her head was dizzy and probably bleeding too.
The werewolf dragged her towards it, those talons sunk in deeper in her flesh and she cries again. Out of pain, she strikes a kick into the wolf’s snout. It whimpers in surprise and lets her go for a moment. Delilah turns on her back, now she’s facing raging brown eyes and a bloody nose.
It snarled louder now. She tried to back away, but the beast jumped at her. Its jaws were inches away from her face, the drool, thick and whitish, dropped in her cheeks. She closed her eyes and turned her head.
She thought, "Make it quick, at least."
That's when she heard a different snarl and barking coming towards them.
Tramp jumped out of nowhere and charged furiously. He bites hard into the wolf’s cheeks. It howled in pain and once again let Delilah go. This time she scrambled fast to back away, with pain shooting through her leg.
In a jerky movement, the werewolf grabbed the beagle mutt and threw him towards the wall.
"TRAMP!" she screamed.
It was a mix of fear and rage. Fear for Tramp’s well-being and rage towards the creature in front of her.
she snapped at it, “Hey, Mutt!”
The wolf faced her again, but now his eyes looked different. Was it a glint of fear?
“No one touches that dog!” She struck another kick at the werewolf's face. "You heard me?"
Delilah was full of adrenaline, she went for another kick, this time in the jaws.
"He's my brother's dog! You son of -"
The wolf was making a strange sound, somehow growling and whimpering at the same time. Its snout and mouth were bleeding a deep red.
"Little Girl -"
The last whimper was disturbing enough. It sounded like it tried to speak.
Her surprise didn't last long, as the werewolf snarled again and raised one of its disfigured paws in the air, ready to strike.
Delilah rolled on her stomach and propped herself up, not minding the tearing pain on her calf. She grabbed Tramp by the wall and ran.
"I'm gonna kill you!" The wolf garbled and started running after her.
It was faster, and she had a limp and an unconscious dog in her arms. She started crying, "Eric would never see us again," she thought. Was this what was happening with the children of this town? Does a monster has been hunting them down?
But why her? She wasn't a child anymore, well not really. Was she that easy of a target? She couldn't give up.
The werewolf was gaining on her, its snarls like laughter were sickening.
She then remembered the broken mirror by the door, she limped towards it, that was her last chance.
She kneeled over the shards and picked the big one just as the wolf's claws grazed her back.
Delilah turned around and jammed the piece of glass in its eye. The werewolf howled painfully and stepped back. She jolted to her feet and made it through the door.
The pain was like sharp stabs all over her leg, she couldn't run properly and her shoe was soaked in blood. But she was determined to get out of this alive.
Delilah could still feel it behind her, she limped faster and looked over her shoulder.
There was no werewolf, but the clown was there, in the doorway. With a bloodied nose and a wounded eye.
He was snarling at her.
Before she could scream he disappeared. Like he was never there.
She picked up her pace not wanting to be in Neibolt any longer; she needed to get home.