Chapter 1: Introduction
Chapter Text
Introduction
Hi everyone! Thank you for checking out this fanfic! <3
Just wanted to mention a few things before we get started:
- This story is a prequel to IT: Chapter 1 and 2
- The setting is in 1935 during one of IT’s feeding cycles, but don’t expect it to be written 100% accurate to the time period
-The Bradley Gang Massacre is referenced but only vaguely (same as the book, it's the event that wakes Pennywise from hibernation)
- Expect some graphic gore and character death… No one is safe… *evil laughter*
I had a blast writing this, and I hope you all enjoy it!
Stay safe- and happy reading!
Chapter Text
Child’s Play
Derry, Maine: 1935
It had been a few days after you arrived that you knew something was wrong.
Could have been nerves. After all, you’d been out of a job for a while and, heck, you were worried that you wouldn’t find one again.
You were lucky. Luckier than a lot of people.
Derry had a lot of opportunities for work, and you found yourself employed at Clark’s Toy Store. All things considered, it wasn’t the worst place to end up; you were paired up with a good friend on shift; Antony, in the middle of restocking board games, while you sorted through the wooden toys.
You unboxed one of the Johnny Jumbos, which was your favourite. It was adorable. It bobbed and moved when its little cord was pulled. You wanted one for yourself, even though you were a bit too old. But still.
“Mind reaching that for me?” Antony said, his voice raspier than usual.
“No problem” you replied.
Picking up one of the board games off the top shelf, you carefully stepped down the ladder, the little pieces inside rattling as you did so.
“Thanks” he said, looking around with a sigh. “Pretty busy today, huh?”
You nodded.
It wasn’t surprising- rain had been bashing against the windows for a solid hour that more and more people were crowding in for a bit of shelter. But it had gotten so packed that everyone was shoulder to shoulder, pushing through each other even if they didn’t intend to buy anything. You were lucky that the main carnage was near the tills, so that at least the two of you had a degree of privacy.
The toy store was a popular spot in Derry. You had to give it that.
Inside, it was similar to the Nutcracker ballet; trains chugging high to the checkered ceiling, bows adorning the largest teddies on the shelves.
As for the staff, well, everyone was supposed to be dressed like toy soldiers- though it was more like a bellboy uniform; red, with rows of shiny buttons on either side. You and the other women had skirts in place of trousers- not too short either.
No perverts could look up your underwear while you were on shift, that was certain.
“Yeah” you sighed, scratching the cotton jacket you were all made to wear, your arms itching like you had chicken pox. “Think we’re about due a break”
“I thought we had one an hour ago?” Antony asked, his eyebrow raised.
Antony Karras was a handsome man; with short wavy hair, calm brown eyes, and a strong, square chin. Sad to say, he didn’t see himself like that, as he was born with a cleft lip, and found every excuse to hide the lower half of his face from view- whether putting his hand to his mouth, or pretending to scratch invisible stubble on his chin.
You didn’t think it was a big deal, but he obviously did.
“I hope not” you laughed, brushing the hair away from your face. “Otherwise, today’s gonna be a drag”
Suddenly, the bell pinged at the tills, signaling for help as more people piled up by the door.
Antony’s lip twitched, and he left saying; “Spoke too soon” in a sing-song voice.
You rolled your eyes, half-wishing you had never mentioned it. You would be sad to lose his company. Honestly, working alone was such a chore.
Talking to someone made it a little more bearable- and you had known Antony for a while before you came to Derry. Sometimes, he was at home with his grandparents; other times, by himself. And you owed a lot to him. He was the reason you were in that job. Otherwise, who knows where you might have been? On the train lines, sneaking your way through town to town, like a hobo.
You moved on to restocking the next shelf, when you noticed a little girl sitting alone.
It wasn’t unusual; after all, most kids were left on their own while their parents shopped around. But that one, with ringlets in her hair and striking green eyes, was slumped on a stool, with no clue what to do with herself.
She looked like a doll, actually; with her pristine frilly dress, she could have been Shirley Temple’s double for all you knew.
But you found it quite sad.
She wasn’t even looking at anything.
‘Derry is no place for kids’ Antony often said. And you didn’t understand why, but that always made you sweat when you thought about it.
You wanted to check how she was doing, if she needed anything. Even though you didn’t know her at all.
But then, her head peered up as if she heard a sound nobody else could.
Strange.
She was looking towards the window, the store window.
Few people were out there, just a couple of void faces under umbrellas, suits drizzled wet, rain pounding, puddles splashing.
Except for one thing. A balloon.
One red balloon, floating outside the store window. Not weighed down by anything, but neither was it floating up into the air. It was hovering of its own accord. Watching.
You mentally slapped yourself.
‘Balloons can’t watch anything; they’re not sentient ’ you thought.
It stayed there for a moment until the girl on the stool rose up.
Life had been pumped into those green eyes; they sparkled with curiosity and wonder as if a cartoon character was outside, waving at her.
Your stomach tightened.
It didn’t feel right. Her parents were nowhere to be seen- and no one had noticed that she was making her way towards the exit of the store, her little hand reaching for the doorknob.
In a rush of adrenaline, you picked up your heels, but before you could catch her, a shrill voice interrupted.
“Excuse me?” An impatient-sounding woman asked, prodding you on the shoulder.
You turned to a woman in a fur coat, looking at you with her nostrils huffed.
“Do you work here?”
“Uh, yes” you said. “Yes, I-”
You looked back at the store exit as the bell jingled- but the girl was nowhere to be seen, and the door slammed shut.
The balloon- gone as well.
The tight knots in your stomach didn’t go away as you diverted your attention back to the woman in front- huffing and puffing as if she was the big bad wolf.
“Yes, I work here- sorry” you said, forcing a smile. “How can I help?”.
///
Turning right on Main Street, you finally made it back to St. Katherine’s boarding house.
You were dog tired.
Stretching your arms, you said a quick hello to a few of the women on the porch before trudging your way inside.
You couldn’t wait to take your stockings off, honestly. Thank the stars you didn’t have to wear that itchy work jacket in the evening.
The radio crackled as soon as you walked in.
It would have been tempting to go into the communal room and listen to it- if not for the fact that someone was switching channels every few seconds. The disjointed sound, cutting at random intervals, was becoming tiresome.
The inside of the house was nothing fancy. The brown carpet was sturdy and clean enough, although the edges of the walls were yellowing because of the cigarette smoke. That was to be expected. That happened everywhere.
But the rent was cheap, and you had your own room. Not every boarding house offered that luxury.
Two women were bickering in the communal area, standing side to side of the wooden radio- shaped like a tombstone, only larger.
“Everyone has a share of the radio- you know that”
“But it’s his last season!” the woman with the lisp argued, stomping her foot on the floor.
“You can catch up on the baseball tomorrow” the older woman said, blowing smoke out of her cigarette. “Alright? Enough now”
Wanting no more backtalk, she switched the station channel and stood in front of it protectively, with her cigarette out, as if she might have jabbed the next person who tried changing it.
Other women were in the room, half paying attention to the argument unfolding. One was reading the latest edition of Charm magazine, another was idly looking out of the window, peering out with curiosity at the neighbours, while the one sitting by the corner was darning socks. She, in particular, had a knack for mending clothes, and was often asked by the other ladies in the boarding house to help fix their delicates if they had gotten out of shape.
All in the room stopped what they were doing, however, when the radio broadcast took a dark turn:
‘In local news: the daughter of renowned factory owner Brian O’Neill has been reported missing since yesterday afternoon. The family has issued a cash reward for anybody who can orchestrate her safe return.
Anyone with information on her whereabouts should report this information to the police immediately ’
“Oh, that’s just awful” the woman darning socks added. “You don’t suppose there’s been a kidnapping?”
“Well, with the rumours going around- anything’s possible”
The other women fought to be heard, bringing their own theories about what happened; whether the girl had a rough home life, or she was sick of going hungry and left for a new town. Honestly, you couldn’t take it in.
So you walked off.
Back to your room, away from the chatter and the radio.
All thoughts you had went back to the girl in the toy store- was she safe? Were you worrying too much?
No. The knots in your stomach told you otherwise.
‘Everything’s fine ’ you thought to yourself.
Rest was what you needed. To sleep. To forget.
‘... Everything will be fine…’.
Notes:
A/N: Things aren't looking so good in Derry, are they?
Chapter Text
The Town That Cried Wolf
You poured yourself a coffee, but it still didn’t make you feel any better.
It was Sunday morning, and granted Clark’s Toy Store was closed and you had a free day- but still, you were genuinely off in a way you couldn’t describe.
The shared kitchen, with its lime green paneling and polka dot wallpaper, was a quiet area of the boarding house; most of the women had breakfast in the local diner, so only a few were left around, stomping up and down the stairs, giggles and whispers coming from the ceiling.
You took a sip of the coffee as cream trickled down your throat- soothing, and warm.
“You usin’ the sugar?”
Propping your head up at the silky voice, a young woman met your gaze with a hand on her hip.
She was tall, with her hair fashioned into a bob and a slender face. Not someone you had seen during the day.
“Oh” you stumbled, pushing the sugar pot out in front of you. “No, help yourself”
“Thanks”
The woman bit her lip, scooping an oversized portion of sugar into her cup before going for some more.
“Don’t mind me, I’ve got a sweet tooth”
There couldn’t be much liquid left to put in it- with how she was carrying on. What would it have tasted like? Syrup?
Well, each to their own.
“Not seen you all that much” she remarked, pouring hot water into the cup. “You new around here?”
Funny how she pretty much said what you were thinking.
“Oh, uh, yeah. Just a few days… Um, oh, your…”
You pointed to her hair, where you noticed she had left a curler in, perhaps overnight.
She took a moment to register what you meant- and pulled it out with her left hand, chuckling.
“Guess I missed that one”
She dropped it on a table with a clang, pieces of her dark hair still tangled inside of it.
“So, you got a sweetheart or you here for work?” she asked, pulling up a chair.
Her question grated on you more than expected, so after taking another sip of coffee, you mumbled: “Work. You?”
She leaned back, taking a cigarette from a pack.
“Eh, bit of both” she winked. “Got a few sweethearts here and there. Got a few jobs. You know The Lighthouse Club on Third Avenue?”
“Um, yeah?”
“That’s one of the gigs I got going” she said, lighting the match on a cigarette. “Only reason I’m staying in Derry is that they promised I’d get my voice on tape. Ever heard a recording of your voice?”
“Can’t say I have” you replied.
She only half took in what you said, blowing out a puff of smoke with a wistful smile.
“Bet it’s amazing- leaving something behind that folks can listen to, over and over. Kind of like immortalising yourself, I guess. Well, that suits me fine. I don’t want to be forgotten just yet”
Her dark eyes landed on yours apologetically.
“Oof- sorry, overshare” she laughed. “So, what’s your story? What are you looking for?”
“Me?” you said a bit more sharply than you meant to. “I don’t know if I’m exactly looking for anything, really”
“Come on, everyone’s looking for something” she said. “What do you want out of life?”
You honestly didn’t know where to begin with that one.
“I… I guess... A fresh start…”
Pausing, you tapped your finger against the cup.
“... I’m just hoping I can keep my job. My friend- he… He actually set me up there. I owe a lot to him. I don’t know what I would’ve done…”
“Friend, huh?” She said, putting out the cigarette on the nearby silver ashtray. “Eh, you’re lucky. Friends are hard to come by”
She held out her hand, breaking the momentary silence.
“Kitty” she smiled. “Kitty Divine. That’s my stage name, anyway. Prefer to leave it at that. And you?”
First meetings were always awkward, so finally, when you finally bit the bullet and told her your name- things became a lot more comfortable.
“So, you and your friend… Any chance you’re coming to The Lighthouse tonight?”
“Oh, yeah, er…” You began. “Antony, he…”
“Antony?”
“Yeah, Antony, my friend. Sorry, I should have told you his- er…” you replied, fidgeting in your seat. “He, um, he mentioned that to me a couple of days ago. About the club, I mean. It’s a hotspot of his and, well, thought I’d go check it out”
You looked at Kitty again, through the tips of your eyelashes.
“Antony doesn’t live around here; he, uh, he commutes. He says The Lighthouse is one of the few reasons he comes to Derry anymore. Well, that and work. You… You said you’ve got a gig? Are you a singer?”
“Yeah” she said “Singer, drinker. Thank God it isn’t the Prohibition anymore”
You smiled at that.
The chair scraped across the floor when she stood up- and as she left; you noticed she walked with a limp- but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask.
“Well, guess I’ll be seeing you and Antony later on, then”
She turned back to you one more time, frowning.
“Do you need me to get you anything? You’re looking a bit pale, if you don’t mind me saying”
“Oh, er…” you stammered. Again. “It’s nothing. Just stress… Probably. Didn’t get the best night’s sleep, I was-”
Worming your way through an excuse, your stomach began to growl. Low, snarling, as if a bloodhound was trapped inside you. Not at all healthy.
“Sounds like you’re on an empty stomach to me” Kitty laughed airily. “Get something down you, nothing worse than going out without fuel in the tank”
She strutted off, a bit too theatrically, swaying her hips.
“Besides, it gives the boys a little extra to hold on to, if you know what I mean”
She waved before turning a corner, vanishing completely.
You held back a chuckle.
She seemed nice. Maybe making new friends in Derry wasn’t out of the question after all.
///
It was setting into the whirl and the rush of the night- and your glass of gin had hardly been touched.
You fitted in perfectly with the glamorous surroundings; your dress sparkled, cutting a fine figure for yourself, and even if you hadn’t noticed it, you were turning a couple of heads.
Meanwhile, Antony, in a black tie and waistcoat, was already on his third glass of beer.
“Sure you don’t want another?” he asked, taking a large gulp of his drink and leaving a frothy moustache on his upper lip.
“No, no, I’m fine” you said, trying your best to hold back a smirk. “Trying to take it steady”
“Suit yourself” he said, clinking his glass to yours. “You’ll be the only person who is”
He didn’t have to prove a point. The other tables were animated, hooting and clapping along to the piano medley. One gentleman, in fact, fell back in a stupor- his chair almost hitting the floor until his friends caught him at the last second.
It was all in good fun, anyway.
The Lighthouse was booming, and the trumpets were so lively, the sound vibrated through the floor and into your shoes like a tap dance.
‘Maybe later ’ you thought.
Maybe you would get up and dance later, but not yet.
Soon enough, the next act came on- and a familiar face took centre stage.
Kitty.
Flaunting a taffeta dress, with a pearl necklace and matching earrings that twinkled in the light.
“🎵 I’m flying high, but I’ve got a feeling I’m falling,
Falling for nobody else but you…🎵”
She strutted across the stage as she sang.
Her movements were so vivacious- you didn’t notice her limping at all, even when she stepped off to greet the crowd.
“🎵 You caught my eye, and I’ve got a feeling I’m falling,
Show me the ring and I’ll jump right through… 🎵”
When she spotted you, her dark lips curled in a cheeky smile, and she walked over.
“🎵 Oh, honey, oh honey, I never felt this way,
Romantically, I’m up in the air… 🎵”
She took one look at Antony and picked up a serviette by the table, lightly dabbing his lips until the beer froth was completely gone.
Without a word of notice, she blew a kiss to you both and walked off.
You cupped your mouth in bouts of laughter, and Antony- well, his focus was solely on Kitty, with no hint of a blush on his face- as his fingers tenderly grazed his top lip. Did they have a history with each other? You didn’t really know.
“She’s amazing, right?” He asked, more so to himself, with a gentle smile on his face.
“You should be telling her that” you said. “She’s in the same boarding house as me, you know. I could put in a good word-”
“No, no, no, no” he begged, waving his hands around like he was on fire. “Please don’t”
You sighed, leaning over to him.
“Come on- it’s obvious you’re sweet on her. Why don’t you introduce yourself, y’know? Get to know each other a little?”
His eyes flickered to the white tablecloth with such a lackluster expression, it was as if his mind had stopped working.
“No. No. I’ve seen the fellas she hangs with. There’s no point. Some people have someone special, and it works… Others, well… We ain’t meant to find it. Just the way it is…”
“That’s the booze talking” you said, reaching out to him.
His half-smile wasn’t very convincing, so you kept your hand on his shoulder- squeezing lightly.
“Talk to me, alright? Tell me what’s-”
You weren’t sure if it was the heaviness of the conversation, but your stomach growled again.
Luckily, the music was too loud for anyone to notice- but the vibrations in your body were hard to ignore as you clutched your waist. Acid slowly built up, bubbling into your throat in a nauseating concoction.
Antony must have noticed too, but before he could say anything, you mumbled something about taking the air, and squeezed through the other tables, the crowd, and finally; to the exit.
///
There you were, crouched low amongst the garbage in the alleyway- praying no one noticed you throwing up.
Luckily, it only sounded like water was splashing down a gutter.
You felt awful, though.
You always felt awful when you threw up. There was no room to breathe between pauses before your insides would heave. Before you were forced to let out the sick again.
What was causing it? You hardly had any of your gin and, well, per Kitty’s advice, you got yourself a bit of dinner earlier. And nothing was coming out except for a clear, watery fluid.
‘Please don’t be a stomach bug…’ you thought.
That was the last thing you needed… Starting a new job, only to tell the boss you were sick. That would lead to an early dismissal; you were sure of it. You couldn’t afford that. You were lucky to have that job. More than lucky.
All of a sudden, a rustling sound came from the alleyway. Something that was wriggling out of the garbage bags.
Slowly, a small, chunky creature crawled out of the darkness. You couldn’t tell what it was- until it stepped into the streetlight.
It was a turtle.
Odd, but unmistakable. Its legs were green, and wrinkly- not like the wooden animal toys you often sold- so surely it was real.
It regarded you in a funny sort of way. Had it stopped moving? Why the hell was even a turtle there in the first place?
Had you been drugged? Surely not.
Unfortunately, that was only the beginning- when another sound erupted out of nowhere, chilling you to the bone…
… A child. Screaming.
You were used to children screaming near the boarding house, when they were playing on the pavement, drawing hopscotch ladders, chasing each other.
But the sound you heard wasn’t like that at all. It was like a child was in pain, like they were being hurt.
You forgot what you were doing and bolted. You didn’t know what you were going to do when you found the source, but instinct drove you.
The scream led you down the alleyway; usually no place anyone would linger, but a child was down there. You had to find them. You had to know what the hell was going on.
As the turning reached its end; hidden, half in shadow- was a tall figure, and you skidded to a halt on the gravel.
The figure sensed you, and for a moment, was still.
Though its upper half was concealed in the darkness, you could clearly tell it was wearing a ruffled one-piece, silver and worn. And were those… Clown shoes?
You didn’t have time to comprehend that, when the figure dropped what it was holding with a heavy thud, and you reeled back in terror.
A child- slumped on the floor, a chunk of his head missing, as if it had been bitten off.
His remaining eye stared at you vacantly, mouth hanging open, his tiny little fingers twitching and snot dribbling down his nose.
You wanted to scream or throw up again- but realised your throat was too dry, so all you could make were strangled noises. Like a death rattle… Croaking, as tears stung your cheeks.
The tall figure moved- but in the dark, nothing was visible on its top half, except for a pair of eyes, glowing orange- one more out of alignment than the other.
Fresh blood pooled along the floor, black in the moonlight.
Your breathing sped up and up and up, out of control, as if you were on a fairground ride with no end and no way to slow down. And the figure stared at you in the darkness. It didn’t move.
And before you knew it, everything- the child, the tall figure, the alleyway…
All of it went black…
Notes:
A/N: Clowns certainly know how to make an entrance...
Chapter Text
Without A Trace
You woke up with a start, springing from the white bed.
Antony had to hold you back by your shoulders.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay” he said. “You’re in the hospital, alright? Take a deep breath”
That was easier said than done.
Your eyes were bulging out of your skull as you scanned one corner of the room to the next, barely even looking at Antony at all.
“I…” you began. “I... I don’t... I... I saw... I... I... Oh, God. Oh, God…”
It all came back to you in an instant, and you threw yourself into Antony, burying into his chest in a gut-wrenching sob you weren’t even sure you were capable of.
You had cried before, of course, but never like that.
Antony held you for as long as he could, until a nurse in a white pinafore gently broke the pair of you apart, ushering him outside while they did tests.
You wanted him to stay. What would be the harm in it? You were pretty sure you had no injuries- but if they were planning on doing a full body check, then that would have made things a little awkward. Oh well. Best to get it over with.
The sooner you got through it, the sooner you could leave. You didn’t want to be alone for longer than you could help.
It would have killed you.
///
Arm in arm, you and Antony hopped onto a red streetcar; it was loud and bustling as always, so you had to make do with standing up- holding onto a handrail as the steel floor rattled with every bump and screech of the wheels.
But it was cheap, and it was only a couple of stops to the boarding house, anyway.
No words could express how grateful you were for Antony walking you back, even though you must have told him a few times. He even tried putting you at ease about work- saying he had told the boss what happened and that everything was fine.
You weren’t getting fired, at least. You wanted to keep your job for a bit longer. Just a little bit longer.
“Do you-” Antony began “Do you need me to get you anything? Are you okay?”
He scoffed under his breath, kicking himself.
“Sorry. Of course you’re not… You know what I mean… But…”
“No, you’ve done enough, Antony. You’ve done enough. Thank you. I mean it”
“...”
With a stiff jaw, he swivelled back at the last minute, taking a few steps towards you.
“Look, did something happen last night? I mean, did anyone…”
His voice trailed off, but you got the hint of what he was trying to say.
“No, no, nobody hurt me. Nothing like that… I’m fine… Really, I am”
He nodded, but his eyes didn’t quite meet yours. Guess he knew you weren’t telling the complete truth.
“Alright… Just… Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
He slowly hobbled away, his shoulders tensed up to the crevice of his neck.
Your heart reached out to him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. How could you even… No, no, he wouldn’t have believed you, and he certainly wouldn’t have liked what you were planning to do next.
Instead of going into the boarding house, you waited- and right as Antony disappeared down the road; you took a turn, walking back to the centre of Derry.
Every muscle inside you was as tight as a screw as you carried on, step by step, past the milkmen and the paper boys in their morning rounds, past the colourful poles of the barber shops spinning around.
You approached the crossing, and the warm, delicious scent of roasted peanuts wafted your way from the street vendors, sold in paper bags for five cents. It would have been nice to grab a bag, but honestly, you didn’t think your stomach could keep it down, not after yesterday.
As you waited to cross, a youthful voice shouted down the road.
“Shine your shoes for a nickel, sir?”
A little boy, barely eight years old, was carrying a block and brush alongside a bottle of clear liquid, as he called out to all the gentlemen who passed by.
Wide-eyed and hopeful, he continued to shout to prospective customers, completely oblivious of the strange figure standing outside the ice cream shop.
The silver clown suit was instantly recognisable; decorated with three pom-poms at the front, a powdery white face, and a red mouth which stretched out in lines to his eyes.
And he was staring right at you.
His eyes were as orange as you remember them, as orange as his hair, combed in tufts around his large forehead.
You clenched your fists.
There he was, the figure you came across last night, the figure who had so ruthlessly murdered a child right in front of you. Out in the streets, as plain as day, as if nothing had ever happened.
He smiled at you with faux innocence, his buck teeth jagged in the sunlight. There was bitterness underneath it, rotting away the mask of friendliness.
You thought you might have been imagining things… Until he waved at you, his white glove slowly rising in the air and swaying from side to side. Your blood ran cold.
Spinning around, you quickly checked that the road was clear, and you ran out.
It didn’t matter if you got run over or not; you would have done anything to get away from him, that clown, whoever he was. And so you ran and ran, ran all the way to a tall brick building with a sign on the front saying:
‘Derry Police Station’.
///
“Okay, let me get this straight, ma’am…” the police officer said, tapping his pencil down on the notepad. “You say the suspect was dressed as a-”
“A clown” you replied, frustrated. “He was dressed as a clown, yes. I know how that sounds”
“Well, that’s one I’ve not heard before” The officer chuckled, cleaning up loose paper clips off the desk.
The office itself was cluttered; stacks of unfilled paperwork strung about, the American flag hung lopsided on the wall, and cigarette butts piled up high on the ashtrays, with warm sparks and smoke still emanating from them. One slight knock might have set the whole place on fire.
You shuffled closer in your seat.
“Please… Just... Just go there. Go there and you’ll-”
“Look” the police officer said. “I get it. It’s a good routine. You know, like Dorothy Lee”
“What?”
“You know” he said, wafting his hand. “That movie; ‘Hook, Line and Sinker’. Remember? Dorothy Lee? She’s a good act. But a word of advice? You want to make it as a comedian? Go to Hollywood. Don’t waste police time like this, alright?”
You slammed your hand on the table.
“You think I’m making this up?! A child's been killed, goddammit! Why won’t you listen to me?!”
“Right- that’s enough”
With the click of his fingers, two other officers walked in and dragged you out.
You tried struggling against them, but their grip on your arms was strong. It was no use.
“No, wait!” you cried. “I’m telling the truth. You have to believe me, please!”.
///
You were practically thrown out of the police station, and every cell in you was brimming with rage. You wanted to smash the windows in with a brick.
But that would have got you arrested.
And they still wouldn’t have taken you seriously. Hell, you weren’t even sure you were taking yourself seriously at that point.
Wandering the streets, you suddenly felt... dizzy.
A horrid sensation bubbled up inside you.
“Not again…” you whispered to yourself.
It was like you were on a tightrope, looking down from high, wobbling side to side- as the world spun around too fast for you to hold on. You knew you’d collapse again. You knew.
Stumbling to the water fountain nearby, you took a few gulps from the tap as cold droplets splashed on your face.
You closed your eyes for a moment, hoping it would pass- but when you opened them… The world you knew had vanished without a trace.
Your reflection in the water fountain had changed. It was still your face, but the style of your hair was different. You were wearing a straw bonnet hat, and like the rest of the women- your dress was high-waisted, fit below the bust.
The men walking around were wearing capes that reminded you of the Jane Austen novels you once read- and there were no signs of cars, only horse-drawn carriages, and black and white billboards, one of which stood out in particular:
‘Big Top Circus presents, for one night only:
Pennywise: The Dancing Clown’
You gawped in horror and awe at the image on the poster.
Right in the middle- was the clown who had waved at you across the street. The same clown; right down to his buck teeth and red mouth, with the lines that stretched right above his eyes.
And then, you sensed something was behind you. Rank breath on your neck, hot, drooling.
“You…”
The muslin fabric of your dress rustled as sharp talons coiled around your waist, and you sucked your breath in panic.
“YOU…”
You couldn’t turn around, but you so desperately wanted to cry, to shout, to say anything- as a deep, rumbling voice repeated one simple word. Like it was ancient, a sanctuary that only the gods were allowed to access…
… It was your name.
///
“You okay?”
You jumped at the sound, realizing that Kitty was sitting right next to you, and you were back, back in your world, in your time, sitting on the porch of the boarding house.
How did you get back there? Did you ever leave at all?
Kitty called you once or twice, but you didn’t respond. You were trying your best to breathe as the cold steps numbed the insides of your thighs.
Knowing you were still in shock, she held out a cigarette, and shakily- you nodded, taking it from her hands and to your lips. Whether you smoked or not made no difference, not even to yourself. You needed to grasp it- to make sure that what was happening was real.
You didn’t feel real. Not in the slightest.
“You gave me a fright!” Kitty said. “Here I was ready to leave, when you just waltzed up out of nowhere! Looked like you were in some sort of trance”
Your teeth chattered violently. You couldn’t help it. You couldn’t stop it. And the cigarette almost dropped out of your mouth.
“Here, take this” she said, wrapping a lace-trim coat around your shoulders. “Not like you need it. Don’t understand how anybody can be cold in this weather, but… Something’s got you shook up. Go on. Tell me”
Clinging to the coat, you huddled into yourself like a lifejacket as your tongue pushed the cigarette to the corner of your mouth.
“Do you... Do you ever feel there’s something wrong with Derry?”
“Wrong?”
“I mean, like there’s something bad here”
“Oh” Kitty said. “Yeah, to be sure. I mean, I’ve seen some weird stuff, and all these poor kids disappearing like that? Yeah. Derry’s messed up alright. You think the cops would’ve done something by now”
You took the cigarette out, twiddling it between the tips of your fingers.
“The police won’t listen. I’ve tried…”
For a moment, you considered stubbing the cigarette onto the palm of your hand, imagining the burning, the scarring, the pain to take away the pain in your head.
But you snapped out of the thought. You couldn’t do that. You couldn’t.
Instead, you flicked it in front of you, letting it roll under the porch as the last of its embers fizzled to ash.
“I... I think I’m gonna lie down…”
Gently, you folded Kitty’s coat and handed it back to her as you stood up.
As she watched you leave, her forehead creased as if a hefty weight was on her mind.
“Shout if you need anything” she said as you left.
You knew you wouldn’t, though.
You needed space.
Notes:
A/N: Unexplained time-travel, hallucinations, or... Something else? Feel free to comment if you have any theories!
Chapter Text
Lost And Found
Another day at the toy store- and your smile was beginning to crack.
You tried keeping a brave face, and spoke to anyone who wanted help or if stock needed putting in. Funnily enough, you were setting up the new window display, which you didn’t mind at all. You intended to draw that out for as long as you could as you stacked the wooden alphabet blocks above the farmyard set, trying not to knock into the wind-up figures by its side.
The window display brought whimsy to the store, drawing people’s excitement like a Silly Symphony cartoon. You watched one a couple of years ago, back when you could afford the movies, anyway. In recent times, it was a luxury.
You rubbed your waist, stopping at a cluster of lumps pressing out of your lower stomach. Your period was due, that’s all- it was nothing else. It couldn’t have been anything else.
Outside, the soup kitchen across the road was extremely busy; men lining up a couple of streets down to get a free coffee and a cake, holding up signs saying; ‘Unemployed, will take any job’, others which said ‘Wanted: family man for a decent job, good references’, so on and so on.
Their hats and coats were tidy, but their faces looked terribly gaunt, like they hadn’t eaten in days. One of them was staring at you with tear-struck eyes. You had to duck out of view. It hurt to look at him.
‘Just keep your head down ’ you thought to yourself. ‘Just keep going. Get through this shift. Go home ’.
Home. Funny word for a boarding house.
You didn’t feel you belonged there yet.
///
Sure enough, you made it to closing time.
Antony came and checked on you, and asked if you were getting a streetcar to St. Katherine’s, but you said you were going to take a walk. You didn’t mind walking on days like that anyway. And what you told him wasn’t really a lie.
You found your way back to The Lighthouse Club and the alleyway.
The stain where you vomited might as well have been old rain- dried up by the trash bags that were bulging at the sides.
You took a deep breath and wandered down the alleyway. "It’s still light out" you kept telling yourself. "It’s still light out. I can do this".
If you found proof- maybe a shred of the child’s clothing, even a speck of blood on the floor- something you could show the police to make them believe you. If you could have afforded it, you might’ve hired a private detective- but well, you weren’t an overly paranoid wife who thought her husband was cheating on her. So that ruled one option out.
As you got closer to the dead end, the cobbled street around you darkened, and you turned to the sky. Thick black clouds had formed out of nowhere. But there was no thunder, no sign of rain, only a cold gust of wind that blew through the draft of your sleeve, tickling its way up to your neck.
It didn’t help that you were wearing your itchy uniform jacket, that damn thing. You looked like a scared witless bellboy, prattling around in the gutter, without the sense to mind her own business. But you couldn’t turn back.
You rummaged in your pocket for a box of matches; perfect for if there were any dark spots, or anything hidden in the shadows. But that wasn’t your only concern, as the weather took a dive.
The matchstick was as fiddly as a splinter as you swiped it against the box, pressing as much friction as you could on, hoping that it would ignite. And it finally did.
With the faint glow it gave, you held it out- and at the end of the alleyway; it illuminated a little shadowy figure with bare legs, its back turned.
You kept the match out as far as you could, trying to discern what the figure was… Until you saw the school pumps- and realized… It was a little boy.
Your mouth opened, but no words came out.
“Why?” the boy whimpered. “Why didn’t you save me? Why?”
Raising the match to his head- you gasped.
It was a bloody mess, hair crusted with old blood. Half of his head was missing, like a distorted crescent moon shape. You were sure that part of his skull was visible, as there were veins throbbing underneath it.
You shook your head over and over, tears streaming down your eyes.
The boy turned around, but you could tell it wasn’t him. That child was dead; whatever was in front of you was a sickly, grinning demon wearing his skin. The one remaining eye slightly out of alignment and the grin he was giving you… All buck teeth.
It made your stomach turn. It was horribly familiar.
You spun around, hoping to run back to where you came- but there were others. Other children there. At least you thought they were children.
The light was dying as their stubby legs moved towards you. Their little voices, all scrambled, cried the same word: “Why?” Over and over.
“Why? Why? Why?”
Amongst them, the girl with the frilly dress and ringlets in her hair- her green eyes glaring at you as if to say: ‘You saw me leave the store, but you did nothing about it. You let me wander off on my own. This is your fault’.
As the flame extinguished completely, you scrambled for another one, your slippery fingers trying to pull out the next match as the children’s voices got louder and louder around you, more frantic, more frenzied. Your arms were shaking so badly that you ended up dropping the box, and you were left in the shadows.
You crouched, clawing around on the slimy, damp floor, hoping to find at least one match. Anything.
The children stopped screaming, but the silence didn’t last long.
“Need a light? ”
The deep, goofy voice spoke out- and with a flick of a match, the orange glow illuminated a horrid face inches away from yours.
The clown’s face.
You choked, shuffling as far back as you could, until your back slammed against the wall.
“Aww… Don’t you want to say hello to an old friend?”
He feigned a hurt expression as he brushed strands of hair away from your eyes- staring at you in such a profound way. The act itself was tender, his glove lingering on the side of your cheek- but it only made you more uneasy.
The mask began to slip.
His expression of longing turned ravenous in an instant, as he trailed over every part of you, mouth opening with a slick, clear fluid- as if he wanted to consume you right then and there.
“All the poor kiddies lost their way…”
He towered over you as the children gathered round in a circle, bloodied and body parts missing. But they were all smiling, no longer saying a thing, as they reached out to you with their little hands.
“No…” you whispered to yourself. “No, no, no. This can’t be happening… This can’t be happening…”
If the clown heard you at all, he didn’t pay any notice.
“It seems I’m lost too!” he giggled, jingling the bells on his suit.
The children dragged you down by your skirt, pulling and yanking at the material as one of them dug their nails into your leg. You stifled back a yell and threw your hands over your face.
“Do you want to be lost?” he asked, as more and more chubby hands tugged at your clothes. “It gets awful lonely…”
You closed your eyes, shivering as the children’s breaths got closer and closer to your face.
“Say you’ll be with us forever-” the clown cackled. “Pretty, pretty please?”
Thick, slimy fluid dripped onto your forehead…
And finally- you screamed.
///
By the time you moved your hands from your face, you were no longer in the alleyway, but a lush green landscape, with trees stretching as far as the next horizon.
Smoke wafted over from a trail, not too far away. Unsurprisingly, you ran towards it.
“Help! Help! Somebody!”
Fabric snagged on one of the branches, and when you tried ripping it out, you discovered you were wearing a long tunic, draped with buckskin and a shell pendant. It rattled as you stumbled back, unable to recognise yourself.
Your hands were scuffed and stank awful, as if you’d been in manure.
“This isn’t real. It’s…” you said, collapsing to your knees. “This... This has to be a dream. It must be”
“This is no dream, I assure you…”
You jumped at the voice. It was calm, masculine- but unfamiliar. Not someone you had met before.
“Who’s there?!” you said, crawling back. “Show yourself!”
A gust of wind blew crinkly, yellow leaves off the floor, twirling further and further up, as they floated to the sky.
It was daytime, you assumed, but the stars were out, and they were shimmering so brightly.
“Don’t be afraid ” the voice said again, the stars twinkling as he did so. “My name is Maturin. I promise, I mean you no harm ”
“No… What… Where am I? What’s going on?!”
“You’re in Derry ” Maturin replied. “A long time ago. Longer than you can imagine ”
“What does that even-” You stopped mid-sentence, before flinging your arms to the sides. “No. You know what? Forget it. Forget this”
As you stormed away, Maturin spoke again.
“Please wait- you are in danger ”
You halted. Of course you would. Anyone would.
Part of you mentally kicked yourself for stopping. For giving the voice the satisfaction that it held your interest again.
“The clown from the alleyway- it has designs on you ”
You spun around, your heart skipping a beat.
“You saw that?”
“I see everything ” Maturin added. “That clown; Pennywise… Whatever it may look like to you- it is not human. It can take many forms, and preys on the most vulnerable of this town; feeding on them when they are afraid ”
You stammered, unable to form a complete sentence.
“I know this may be hard to understand ” Maturin said. “The answers will come- but right now, you are the one that is most at risk…”
“What?”
There was too much information being thrown at you all at once, and you weren’t sure if you took any of it in, as Maturin echoed darkly:
“Please… Leave Derry… While you still can…”.
Notes:
A/N: Maturin means well- but some warnings are meant to go unheeded.
Chapter Text
Innocence
“Hey!”
You flinched when Antony touched your arm.
The basement of the toy store was unkempt; boxes piled up on the tables from the latest shipments.
You were back. Somewhere familiar. But you couldn’t understand why.
“God, I’ve been looking all over!” Antony said, scratching his head. “You know you’ve been down here with the lights off, right?”
He waited for a response, but you had none ready to give- as you stared blankly into the ceiling lights- a few moths bumping and buzzing into each other all the while.
“How did I get back?” You said under your breath.
More so to yourself than to Antony, but he heard you anyway.
“Get back? From where? You’ve been here the whole time, remember?”
He regarded you with his eyebrows furrowed.
“You sure you can work today? Why don’t I speak to-”
“No” you cut him off, panicking at the prospect. “No, no, it’s fine. Thank you, but I- I just need some air”
You raced up the stairs before he could say another word.
Perhaps if he was in your situation, he might have understood. But the clown, the time-travel episodes or hallucinations, whatever they were… You would have sooner checked yourself into a looney bin than try to tell anyone about that. Let alone a good friend.
As professionally as you could, you rushed out of the door, gasping for breath.
One or two men were still outside, with signs saying they were looking for work. A few had been out of employment for a while, and they were sitting on the floor, drunk on a cheap bottle of moonshine, facial hair long and unkempt.
By them, a familiar turtle, green, regarded you once again. It reminded you of the night in the alleyway.
The calm, soothing voice of Maturin echoed, that no one else could hear.
“Leave Derry… While you still can…”
Transfixed, you stepped forward- but immediately jumped back as a group of children raced by.
They were trying to catch up to the girl in front, who was losing balance on her roller skates, and fell smack onto the pavement.
“Ingrid!” one of them shouted.
“Are you alright?” you called out. “Come on, let’s get you to the side”
You raced over, expecting her to be screaming bloody murder, but she was taking it on the chin. Her eyes were watery, but that was about it.
“See? I told you she’d fall over!” one boy in the group heckled.
“It’s not my fault!” the other girl said, glaring at him. “She always wants to copy you anyway!”
You reached in your uniform for a cloth handkerchief, giving it to the little girl on the floor.
Blood dripped onto a tartan coat as she looked up, her hair decorated with little bows.
You pushed out the handkerchief once again, and finally, she took it from you and gingerly held it to her nose.
“Are you okay, honey?”
You knelt down, addressing her as gently as you could.
“Can I get you anything?”
“She can’t understand you-” the other girl said nasally, folding her arms. “She’s deaf”
Heat rose to your cheeks, but you weren’t to know. It was an honest mistake.
She addressed the little girl on the floor and signed with her hands, after which the latter nodded hesitantly.
“I’m Erika. That’s my sister; Ingrid. She gets nosebleeds a lot, so don’t worry”
Erika, who a few moments ago had her arms crossed and regarded you with a stern sort of look, was a complete contrast to her sister; not only was her pigtailed hair and high-waist dress different, she also wore a long set of wired braces that attached from her teeth to the base of her head.
Poor girl… No wonder she was irritable. Those did not look comfortable to wear in the slightest.
“Adam” one boy croaked as he blew his unkempt fringe out of the way, with chubby cheeks, a sailor’s shirt, and matching shorts.
“And last but not least…” Erika said, rolling her eyes. “This is-”
“Brandon” the last boy said cheerfully, with slicked back hair, dimples, and a polo neck top. The only one to shake your hand. “Nice to meet you”
He left a smooth, clay marble in the palm of your hand, and as you looked to inspect it, he quickly pulled out a cloth and a toy wand, with a few words, lifted the cloth up- and the marble was gone.
You clapped when he pulled the marble from behind your ear- but before you could ask him how he even did that, Ingrid tugged on your coat, and with a telltale raised eyebrow, she signed in your direction.
Erika sighed and leant on the corner pipe.
“Ingrid says; are you gonna tell us your name or should we call you Miss Marble? ”
You gave them your name, and after that, they couldn’t stop talking.
From the bombardment of chatter, you gathered Erika Roth was keen on dress-making, but it wasn’t clear if they were for her toys, or for herself and her sister.
Ingrid was an avid athlete, and Adam Laszlo often got into trouble at school- and through his own admission struggled to read and write.
Brandon Quinn was an enigma. You could tell he wanted to be a showman, with his various magic tricks, but he didn’t talk about himself other than that, although you could tell that one of his eyes was hollowed out, as if it was made of glass. You didn’t ask him, though. In fact, out of respect, you tried to avoid staring as much as you could.
“What were you doing racing down here, anyway?” you asked them.
“It’s Ingrid’s fault” Adam said, pouting. “I let her borrow my skates, and she just took off”
After signing back and forth with her sister, Erika turned back to the group and scolded them as if she were a teacher.
“No, she saw some creep. She was scared”
“Creep? ”
“Some guy dressed as a clown”
Both Adam and Brandon said that simultaneously, and a cold sweat dripped down your neck.
You took a few moments to compose yourself, not wanting to frighten the kids.
“Has the clown ever talked to you? Tried telling you to follow him?”
“Yeah” Adam said, shuffling uncomfortably. “But… I didn’t go. He looked scary”
“Clowns aren’t scary” Brandon huffed. “It’s just a mean grown-up, that’s all”
Before they could start arguing with each other, you huddled them close, as if you were giving them a pep talk at a baseball game.
“Okay, listen. That clown is bad, alright? Stay away from him. I mean it”
You unbuttoned another pocket and rummaged in your silk purse. It might have been against management’s wishes, but you felt more secure keeping your money with you at all times, even while you were on the job.
“Here” you said, giving Erika a dime. “Go get some ice cream, all right? Or a candy bar or whatever you want. Just stay together. Don’t go running off on your own. And remember what I said about the clown”
With a wave, they ran off- as Ingrid gave the skates back to Adam with a pout. But it was probably for the best.
“If you’re ever in trouble, come find me at the toy store, okay?!” you shouted back after them.
They vanished into the distance as the workmen nearby sniggered to each other, glancing back at you every so often from the top of the scaffolding.
It didn’t matter what they were gossiping about. You just wanted to make sure those kids were okay.
///
“So, one tin typewriter…” You began, adding up the total at the till. “A Dr. Doodle and a Buck Rogers pocket pistol… That will be six dollars, please”
“You don’t have any of those Kewpie dolls left, do you?” The old man asked as he handed out his money. “My granddaughter’s nuts about that thing”
“Oh, I’m sorry, sir- we’re temporarily out of stock with those”
And you wouldn’t admit it to him, but you were glad of it. They were creepy things with very little hair, and their eyes were always far too wide. You didn’t understand how people could find them cute.
You wrapped the man’s gifts in a bag as you continued to speak.
“If you like, we could place an order for you and…”
Before you could finish, the front door slammed open- and two familiar kids rushed in, shouting your name as if there was a fire.
“I’m so sorry, sir” you addressed the customer before turning around. “Shirl? Shirl?”
One of your colleagues rushed over to you, red curls bouncing across her face as she huffed. She was the spitting image of Katharine Hepburn, if a little more sour-looking.
“Can you cover the till for me? It’ll just be a second”
“Wait a minute, you can’t just-”
Before she could argue further, you raced off towards the kids.
It had been a few days since you first bumped into them outside of the store, and the pit in your stomach told you they hadn’t come for a quick chat.
Well, that, and you weren’t feeling particularly good yourself.
“You gotta help!” Erika cried. “We were playing on the bridge near the river a-and, Adam fell in!”
Your heartbeat quickened a pace.
Erika and Ingrid were the only ones there, so that meant…
“Okay, okay, it’ll be alright…” you soothed, kneeling down to their eye level. “Where’s Brandon?”
“He’s been trying to get Adam out, but he can’t swim good… Please…”
Immediately, you led them out of the store until a voice shouted from behind.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Antony said, racing up to you and the kids.
“A little boy’s fallen in the river-” you answered back, hurrying along. “I have to go”
“What?!”.
///
Antony insisted on coming with you. Not that you argued against it.
In hindsight, you ought to have brought rope with you- anything to help pull poor Adam out of the water. But you weren’t thinking straight, as voices yelled back and forth at each other from a distance. Young boys.
You sighed with relief. Adam hadn’t been swept away. Not yet.
The Kenduskeag River ran for miles around Maine, and luckily the current wasn’t too strong that day.
“Hold on, Adam!” Brandon shouted, gingerly trying to step across a few rocks to get to him.
“Stay back!”
You grabbed Brandon before he could step any further. One wrong move and he could have fallen in.
As you tossed your shoes and jacket on the grass, Antony’s expression twisted, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
He yelled at you, probably to stop, but you carried on anyway, and took your first few steps into the cold, frothy water.
“Watch the kids for me, okay?!”
“What?! What do you think you’re doing?! This is crazy!”
The water was chillier than you thought, especially as it reached your waist, and you conserved every effort not to squeal. A steady current hit your back as you gripped onto the rocks, shuffling to the middle of the river.
Adam himself was clinging onto a giant boulder, his top half anyway; you couldn’t make out the bottom half of him and that worried you.
A rough current knocked you at the last hurdle, but you lunged for Adam in time, holding him in your arms.
“Hey now… Hey, it’s alright”
His shoulders shook against you as he sobbed, clinging to your neck like a toddler.
You were pretty sure water had splashed onto your hair and was dripping down your ears and chin. The water was deeper than you thought.
“Hold on tight to me, okay?” You told Adam.
With a sniffle, he kept his arms wrapped tightly around your neck as you shuffled back the way you came.
You didn’t notice the cold so much anymore, rather the sharp debris prodding against your heels. Blindly, you kicked a rock on the narrow bed and bit down the urge to swear.
Antony rushed onto the first few rocks and hoisted Adam from the water.
You rubbed the sore indent on your neck. Yeah, it was going to leave a mark, but you had saved a kid from potentially drowning, so that was a win.
Adam was wailing in the background as his friends huddled around him, and Antony knelt down to pull you to safety. You smiled and grabbed his hand.
As he tried lifting you out, something yanked you back.
Your chin grazed the side of a rock, and it stung like hell. You were glad none of your teeth were knocked out.
Antony reached for you as you used your other hand to push your way up, your elbow doing the heavy lifting.
Whatever it was under the water that was gripping you, it had an iron hold. It was like a ball and chain, digging in the further you tried to escape. You certainly weren’t tangled in seaweed, that’s for sure. It was solid. Bone-like.
It yanked you again, and your head went fully under the water for a few seconds before bobbing out. Your arms were thrashing, desperately trying to hold on to the rock.
“My foot!” You choked, coughing out river water. “Something’s got my foot!”
Antony threw himself down belly first to get a better grip, to drag you up by your lower arms, grabbing anything he could, a piece of clothing, your wrist, anything to get you out of there.
Your legs thrashed under the water, kicking and prodding at whatever was clawing your ankle.
Kick, kick, kick, harder, faster, rougher, get it off!
Whatever it was, momentarily let go when the kids raced over- pulling parts of your soaking wet blouse as goosebumps prickled up your quaking arms.
Before you could get to safety, a pair of white gloves came out of the water and snatched your ankle.
Screams erupted from the group, but none were as loud as your own as the clown’s head rose up, wet hair sticking to his forehead like rat tails.
His baby blue eyes turned orange as he leered at you.
“Do you want to be lost?” Pennywise repeated in your head, without saying a word.
His mouth extended horribly to rows of razor-sharp teeth.
You thought he would take a chunk out of your leg, when all of a sudden, Ingrid grabbed a moss-covered rock and launched it at the clown’s head.
Pennywise let out an inhuman growl, and his grip on your ankle loosened enough that you kicked him away.
“RUN!”
Antony pulled you towards the hill as fast as he could, as the kids climbed to the top. At least they were safe.
“Yes, run, run, run away!” Pennywise echoed out with a chilling laugh. “Run and hide, but no matter where you go, I’ll always find you!”
You didn’t look back, but thought, in an eerie notion, that he was addressing you- and you alone.
“… I’ll always find you… Always…”.
Notes:
A/N: A narrow escape, but at least everyone is ok- for now…
Chapter Text
Painted Smile
Getting called into the boss’s office usually meant a number of things; you were getting a pay cut, you were being asked to work overtime for petty cash- or the most dreaded of them all…
You were getting fired.
Antony stood by your side, like a couple of children on the naughty step. At least that’s what it felt like to you. Were you sure Antony felt the same?
“So Shirl tells me you left work to go skinny-dipping? ”
“A child was in trouble, Mr. Clark” Antony said, clenching his fists. “We-”
“Yeah, yeah- got it. You were playing the hero” Mr. Clark said, tapping his cigar on the mahogany desk. “Point is, you went out without letting management know”
Mr. Clark was a humorless man; balding, trying to hide it with a bad comb-over and a pungent citrus cologne that made your eyes water.
“Sir” you butted in, moving away from the filing cabinet. “Antony only followed me out because he was worried… It’s my fault, not his…”
Mr. Clark regarded you for a moment, looking you up and down and lingering too long on your chest, and you quickly covered yourself.
For once, you actually wished you were wearing your work jacket, as itchy as it was. You wouldn’t have been so… Vulnerable.
But Mr. Clark said nothing, and continued to address Antony as if you weren’t even in the room. Typical.
“So, here’s what you’re gonna do-” he began. “You’re gonna get cleaned up, you’re gonna get back to work, and if anything like this happens again, you’re fired. The both of you. Alright?”
You honestly wanted to punch him in the face. He didn’t give two shits that a child could have been grievously injured- or worse.
But you held your tongue and bared it.
‘You’re lucky to have a job ’ you thought to yourself. ‘You’re lucky to have a job ’.
///
Half an hour later, you were back in the midday rush of customers whirling in and out.
You hardly spoke to Shirl again on your shift. You couldn’t believe she would snitch to the boss like that. But then again, you didn’t know her all that well.
What kept you going was the four children back together, wandering around the aisles of the store- Ingrid, Erika, Brandon… and Adam.
Adam had been given fresh clothes and was prodding at a sock monkey on the shelf. You didn’t have it in your heart to tell them that kids weren’t supposed to be playing with the toys until they bought them. You could let that rule slide just once, especially after what everyone had been through.
Erika tugged at your arm, unusually sullen.
“Did we get you in trouble?” She asked, the overbite of her teeth making her look like a cute little gopher wearing a head brace.
“No, you’ve not done anything wrong” you said to her.
And as you helped Antony label a set of model airplanes, the group of kids shuffled around you both.
“Look-” you said, tearing off a piece of Scotch tape and handing it to Antony. “The next time you play, play with adults around, alright? Don’t ever do that again”
“So are we not gonna talk about the water clown we just saw?” Brandon said a bit too loudly, getting a couple of funny looks from the customers.
Erika hushed him, but he looked back at her confused as if to say; ‘What did I do?’.
You crouched down, pretending to examine a toy on one of the lower shelves.
“We’ll talk about that later” You said in a low voice. “Just stay here for now, okay? We’ll walk you home when the store closes”
“Psst!”
Antony signalled to get your attention, taking you out of earshot.
“What do you mean ‘we’ll walk them home’? We can’t walk them home!”
“And we can’t just let them wander off on their own either” you whispered back fiercely.
Antony leaned over with a frown.
“But we’re not their parents!”
“You’re right. But do you think their parents are going to pick them up? If they let the kids play alone, then they’re going to let the kids walk home alone. I can’t let that happen, Antony” you said, your mouth wobbling. “Not after today. I can’t”
He paused, peering at the group of children who, luckily, were too distracted by the barrage of toys to eavesdrop on the conversation.
“So, we’re on babysitting duty?” Antony groaned.
You patted him on the shoulder and got to work on the other shelves.
“Looks like”
And for the remainder of your shift, not only did you have to juggle a few impatient customers, but four children as well. Four very needy children, as it turned out.
“What does that one do?” Brandon asked, pointing at a Tailspin Tabby.
That was the fifth toy he had asked about. He was fascinated with the way they worked, and kept wondering if they were made of magic. Luckily, the toys he was interested in were wooden. Any breakages- and you definitely would’ve been fired.
Adam went off, playing with a few of the toy cars and racing them around the carpet as Ingrid followed him. You weren’t sure, but it seemed like she had a crush on Adam. Well, you weren’t going to question it. Puppy love at that age was always awkward.
Erika stuck to you like glue and tried helping around the shop, even though she catalogued things in the wrong place and a box or two had been left on the floor.
You mentally sighed to yourself. You didn’t think you would have taken babysitting as a full-time job. Still, with the economy as it was, you would’ve probably gone for it if Antony hadn’t set you up at Clark’s.
The final straw came when Adam found a drum kit and was smashing down rather too heavily on it. You had to divert his attention to another toy, and luckily it worked. You weren’t ready for a temper tantrum.
///
As promised, you took the kids home; passing a newsstand as Antony bought the latest edition, trying and failing to distract himself from the talk that was all too inevitable.
“Y’know that gang from a couple weeks back?” Adam mumbled, chewing on a Hershey bar. “Yeah, they said there was this clown and... And he was just in the middle while everyone was there, like, with a tommy gun and stuff”
“Don’t be silly” Erika said, linking her arm with Ingrid. “Clowns don’t shoot people”
“They do too!” Brandon said, wiping his nose with his sleeve. “I saw it in a cartoon once!”
“I think…” You began unsteadily. “I think what Adam’s trying to say is… This clown’s done some pretty awful things in Derry, right?”
Adam nodded.
“Yeah, my cousin thinks he’s been making all those kids go missing”
Hearing this, Antony skimmed through the Popeye comic strip on the back page with an audible sigh.
“Whoever he is-” Antony said as he folded the newspaper “He’s clearly a very dangerous man. The sooner we tell the police-”
“I’ve already tried” you replied, your shoulders slouching. “And he… He’s not a man, Antony. He’s not human”
His nostrils flared, but it wasn’t anger. You had seen him angry before. But that was different… It was…
“No, no, he has to be human. There’s no other way…”
“Antony, come on, you saw it. You saw his face, his teeth. Those weren’t human teeth”
Erika and Ingrid signed to each other back and forth until Erika spoke out.
“Ingrid wants to know; is the clown an alien?”
Brandon and Adam giggled- until Erika stole the newspaper from Antony and whacked them both with it.
“Ow! Quit it!” Brandon whined.
“You’re lucky we’re home-” Erika said, wafting the newspaper at them. “Or I’d beat the snot out of you!”
“I’d like to see you try” Adam said with an impish smirk.
Erika pulled out her tongue and left in a huff opposite the dime store.
She had forgotten to give the newspaper back to Antony, but he didn’t mind. ‘I just read the comics anyway’, he told you once. Not that you blamed him.
Sheepishly, Ingrid gave you a hug before running after Erika- and the door closed behind them.
Adam was next to be dropped off. He was lucky to live near the cinema and boasted that he often went there to watch Mickey Mouse cartoons. Brandon said they were lame, but you were sure he was jealous. Can’t fault him for that.
Brandon lived on the outskirts of Derry, but the porch that his family owned was the most inviting. There were flickering lamplights and a rocking chair or two, and a pack of cards on the table. Brandon clearly hadn’t cleaned up after the last time. Pretty sure there was a Queen of Diamonds lodged under one of the chair legs, but you didn’t say anything.
He convinced you to stay on the porch for one card trick; Antony’s he got right, but unfortunately you had the other Queen of Diamonds. And you couldn’t help but giggle when he realised where the first one was.
“Er, I… Meant to do that” Brandon said.
You ruffled his hair, which he didn’t appreciate, and waved back to him, shouting, “Be careful!” as you left.
The weight of the conversation had gone, at least, for the time being.
“Don’t suppose they’re looking for a new Houdini in Hollywood, right?”
You joked, nudging Antony with your elbow- but he stormed off in front.
“Hey, is... Is everything okay?” you asked, knowing full well what the answer would be. “I… I know today’s been, well…”
“I’m fine” he said, more bluntly than usual.
Although he looked back at you with a smile, trying to convince you otherwise, you could tell his expression was cracking as a glimmer of sweat trickled down his forehead.
“I’m fine….”
He walked off, and you couldn’t help but think; no, he wasn’t fine. He wasn’t fine at all.
Did he know something? You hoped he could confide in you, but even though you two were close, complete honesty was never a guarantee. That’s the way it was.
“Your playmate’s not looking so good- is he?”
A rumbling voice stopped you in your tracks.
Pennywise. Oh God.
“W-wh-”
You spun around, trying to figure out where it was coming from; not from the houses, nor the WW1 cannon statue- as Antony shuffled further down the street, never once looking back.
‘Antony… Wait…’
You raised your hand, trying to move your mouth into making a sound, anything that he could hear. Because he obviously couldn’t hear who was talking to you right then.
“That’s ok- you can play with me instead! There’s so many wonderful things we can do…”
A dark, lustful chuckle came from out of nowhere- and finally, you ran.
The voice was in your head. It had to be.
“We’ll have tons of fun together. You’ll see…”
You caught up to Antony, glancing behind all the while as your mind replayed a familiar warning:
“Leave Derry… While you still can…”
Those words again. That gentle voice. Maturin, or whatever he was. Why would you think about that, of all times?
Every fibre in you was desperate to flee, you couldn’t deny it. Terrible things were happening- but a part of you wanted to linger in Derry for a bit longer; after all, you weren’t the only one in danger. So was Antony. The kids. You couldn’t leave them to fight on their own.
But that, as it turned out, would be the least of your worries.
Notes:
A/N: Will staying in Derry prove to be a mistake? The answer speaks for itself, but hey, there’d be no story otherwise!
Chapter Text
From Your Secret Admirer
You woke to a knock at the door.
With a groan, you accidentally flung your arm to the bedside lamp, the string tassels tickling your skin as you moved away.
Another knock came, more impatiently than the last.
You swung your legs out of bed as the mattress creaked. The room was dark, save for the outline of the chair, and you did your best to avoid it, your hands blindly reaching in front of you, until you got to the door.
Turning the handle, a familiar woman tapped her foot outside- the landlady, Mrs. Fairgreen; well-built and stocky, roughly in her fifties. Her cotton pajamas were similar to yours, except that she was wearing a silk dressing gown on top.
“You know what time it is, missy?!” she grumbled hoarsely, with a lantern in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
“Er…” you trailed off, rubbing your eyes. “I don’t... Has there been a problem?”
“Problem?” she scoffed, holding the lantern directly in front of your face, making you squint. “I’ve had five women come up to me with noise complaints from your room. Said they’re hearing strange things-”
Mrs. Fairgreen peered around your room as her eyes narrowed.
“Mind telling me what the hell it is you’ve been doing up here?”
You felt like a frog was going to jump out of your throat.
Strange noises? As far as you knew, you had been asleep. Sure, you were having stomach troubles, but surely the walls weren’t that thin…
“I- I’m sorry but… I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about- I’m hardly in my room, honest! Angie can swear to that- she’s right across the hall!”
“Yeah, ‘cept Angie was the first to complain about it” Mrs. Fairgreen said, taking a drag of a cigarette. “Look- when you get a fella, you can be as loud as you want in his place- but don’t start causing trouble here or you’ll know about it”
She poked her cigarette so close to you that the smoke burned through your nostrils.
“And you ain’t the only one who’s punching the clock tomorrow, remember that”
She waddled off, and for a moment you let the door hang open on its hinges. Pretty sure your mouth was hanging open too.
What a rude awakening. First the manager, then the landlady. What next?
///
You weren’t sure if it was the disturbed sleep, but your stomach was worse than ever that morning. Not only was it growling in the most bizarre way, sounding like a bullfrog and a rhino were trapped inside you, but every time there was the slightest rumble, the slightest vibration, your spine jerked, as if there were a couple of trapped nerves you couldn’t quite place.
It made it almost impossible to get down the stairs, but you tried anyway, shuffling one step at a time as you put your weight on the rickety banister. Dreading that at any moment, it would break off completely, and take you down the flight of stairs with it.
Pots and pans were clanging from the kitchen, and you kept your head low, clutching your stomach as you shuffled towards the front door.
The radio fizzled as you passed the communal room, Kitty’s laughter echoing from inside; no doubt in the middle of telling a funny story to the other women- and you tried to sneak past as quickly as possible without being noticed. But the laughter stopped, and after a leather chair squeaked and footsteps shuffled behind you, a soft finger poked you on the back.
“Hey, you” Kitty said. “Thought you could sneak past without saying-”
She stopped mid-sentence, but you didn’t notice her expression.
You hunched over, clutching your stomach.
Another growl set in, and your back arched forward. It was like you were on your period. Well, that’s if your period wanted to sprout talons and claw its way out from the inside.
“Jesus, are you alright?!”
“I’ll be fine” you mustered, leaning on the wall for support.
“Yeah, you look it” she replied sarcastically.
She bent over, tilting her head to have a look at you, and from the corner of your eye, you saw her expression drop into a frown.
“Right, come with me”
Linking her arm in yours, she pulled you to the shared bathroom.
The yellow tiles inside were nauseating, and there was a hair on the half-used bar of soap that made you want to vomit.
“What’s the big deal? I said I’m fine” you argued, but Kitty closed the door and leant against it so you couldn’t leave.
“Fine, my ass. What are you on?”
“Huh?” you said, scratching your head.
“You know; mescaline, cocaine- what is it?”
You choked on your own laughter for a moment, trying to wipe spit off your mouth. But Kitty wasn’t playing around.
“I’m not on anything. Why would you even-”
“What’s with your eyes, then?”
She pulled you to the small circular mirror, and your jaw dropped.
Your eyes, no longer their normal colour, were a vibrant orange, glowing, like molten gold.
“Wanna try telling me you’re not on something? Look at yourself!”
Stumbling back, your legs knocked into the side of the bathtub as Kitty’s voice blurred to the back of your mind. She was pointing and gesturing in a stern, schoolteacher sort of way- but you couldn’t be sure what she was talking about.
Something bulged and ripped inside you- sending a gut punch to your spine.
You collapsed on the floor.
“What is it? Do you need to be sick? What’s going on?” Kitty said, shaking you with worry.
Clutching your stomach like you were carrying a newborn, you looked up at her tearfully.
“I’m hungry” you said by pure instinct, not sure where that came from. “I’m hungry… Please…”.
///
Kitty took you to the local automat, where you were on your third sandwich.
You didn’t care what was inside; you were just shoving it in your mouth, like a ravenous animal, filling the pockets of your cheeks with crusts of bread, butter melting on your tongue and slipping fast down your throat before you could stop it.
“Geez, you really are hungry!” Kitty said, taking a sip of soda.
You couldn’t imagine what you must have looked like to her. Or to anyone else for that matter. You hunched over, consuming the food in front of you like it was the last meal you would ever have in your life. You might have tried eating the wax paper, if you weren’t in public, of course.
Kitty watched the other customers as they got out their change for the coin slot, stuck on what to treat themselves to.
“So-” she said, leaning in on the table as the sleeve of her raincoat brushed against yours. “You still haven’t told me what’s going on”
You gulped down the last piece of your sandwich, clutching your wrist.
“It’s not drugs. It’s not. I swear”
Kitty leaned her cheek on her hand and regarded you lazily.
“Sure, whatever…” She pushed herself back and leant against the metal seat. “At least your eyes are back to normal. What’s with that anyway?”
You scratched an itch above your eyebrow, but she didn’t press you further.
“You don’t have to tell me your business- just stay out of trouble”
She stood up, hovering around the table.
“You know you can call in sick, right? If you’re not feeling up to it?”
The smile you gave was slanted, giving her the correct impression that you were planning to push through the day anyway, even if you didn’t want to.
“Suit yourself” she said, flicking your arm playfully. “Look, drop by The Lighthouse again when you get the chance. I’ll introduce you to the girls. Seems like you could use a few friends right now”
You smiled at her as she left, before rubbing your temples.
What on earth was happening? To you? To Derry?
Whether you were ready to find out- was another thing entirely.
///
You were lucky that Clark’s Toy Store opened late on Saturdays.
“Oh hey, Antony” you said as you walked into the store. “You’re early”
“Yeah- didn’t fancy waiting around for an extra hour; figured I’d get a head start”
He winked at you, which was totally out of character. Especially after yesterday and the ‘clown talk’ you had. It was like he had forgotten the whole thing.
“Oh, by the way-” he said, cutting open one of the cardboard boxes. “The mail’s been; got some letters and a new order of Kewpie dolls. There’s a parcel in the staff room. Think it’s to you”
“Me? ” you said, pointing to yourself, as if you couldn’t be any more obvious. “Who’s it from?”
“Don’t know” he shrugged, rummaging inside the box. “Just says it’s for you”
Awkwardly, you shoved your hands in your pockets and walked to the staff room.
There wasn’t much to behold. A couple of long steel lockers and filing cabinets, and a coffee mug that someone had forgotten to wash.
The parcel that Antony was talking about was a drawstring box, not too big to hold in your hands. In big bold lettering, it had your name on the top, along with the address of the store. Sure, fair enough, but if it was for you, why wasn’t it delivered to the boarding house?
You checked the red tag at the side, labelled in childish handwriting:
‘From your secret admirer ’
Were the kids playing a prank?
No. Even Brandon would prefer pulling a stunt like that in person.
You untied the string anyway, but as soon as you did, something kicked the box with a thump.
Something from the inside.
The box rolled itself off the table, punching and kicking through the outer packaging as you cowered away.
You ran to the exit, but when you pulled on the doorknob, you realised it had been locked from the outside.
“Antony? Antony, can you hear me? I’m locked in!”
After yanking the door a few more times, you scrambled around for a spare key- but stopped dead as a chilling voice came from the box.
“I love you! ” A little doll-like voice said, a bit too robotically.
Your knees began to quake, and you bashed the door again.
“Antony?! Antony?!”
The box sprang open, but you turned your head away before you could glimpse what the hell was inside it.
You kept your face pressed against the door, banging, banging.
“Please, Antony, let me out!”
More doll-like voices emerged from the box, each sweet but distorted, like they were malfunctioning.
The words grew more sickening as each joined in.
“Won’t you play?”
“I love you! ”
“Will you fuck me?”
“Can I eat you?”
“Do you want to be lost?”
“WILL YOU?”
Scratching sounds reverberated from the carpet, as if tiny little things were crawling towards you, getting closer and closer.
“JUST GET ME OUT! GET ME OUT, PLEASE!”
The back of your stocking tore open with a loud rip, as if a sharp nail was dragging down your thigh. Tiny little things dug into your shoes and on your ankles, but you shut your eyes tight, trying your best not to cry.
You needed to get out of there.
“Please…” you whispered to yourself.
Suddenly, a gloved hand gripped your throat and pulled you back.
“FOUND YOU!”
You broke free of its grasp as the door swung open, the clown’s laughter reverberating in your head as Antony caught you in his arms.
“What the-” Antony said, startled. “What’s happened?!”.
///
“Like I said; you were the first one here- you coming down with something?”
Antony reached his hand to your forehead, but you swatted it away.
“I’m not sick! You told me to look in the staff room! That’s when it happened!”
“Okay, well, whoever you saw, that couldn’t have been me- I bumped into Shirl on the way in, so-”
He handed a bag to the customer in front of him with the usual: ‘Thank you, have a nice day!’- and as there was no one else waiting, you saw an opportunity, and leaned over to him in a whisper.
“I... The clown... Attacked me. He got in here somehow, I don’t know”
Antony’s jaw locked tight, and he turned to you as if you were an animal that had escaped its enclosure.
“Just... Just think about what you’re saying”
“I am!” you said back, with an urgency.
He sighed, leaning his elbow on the till.
“So what do you suggest we-”
Before he could finish, the door swung open, and four familiar kids toddled in. Erika ran in front, making a beeline for you as she called your name.
“Brandon kicked me! Brandon kicked me!” she whined, pointing behind her.
“Well, you took my hat” he pouted, as Ingrid and Adam were busy trading postage stamps with each other.
“That’s my hat!” Erika corrected, stomping her little leg on the floor. “I only let you borrow it!”
You exchanged a look with Antony and shook your head.
It was going to be a very long day.
Notes:
A/N: Those kids really didn’t pick the best time to show up…
Chapter Text
The Beast Within
You and Antony found yourselves chaperoning the kids on a Sunday.
Doubtful if any of them had been to church, but that was their parents’ business. You weren’t going to kick up a fuss.
Brandon shouted as he slid down the large metal slide in the playground. Not surprisingly, since the sun was out in full force. Going down that belly first must have been like walking on hot coal.
Erika and Ingrid were on the seesaw together, and Adam was flying high on the swings, kicking his little legs up and down to propel the motion.
“Gotta be honest-” Antony began as he leant on a child-sized ladder. “I’m not sure I’m entirely comfortable with- well- ”
He motioned to the children and then back to the both of you, and you shifted your feet uncomfortably.
“I know, but who else will look out for them? Their parents aren’t around, and the police-”
“- Won’t do anything” Antony said, finishing your sentence with a grumble. “Yeah, I know”
You could tell it weighed more heavily on him than it did yourself- so you shuffled to his side.
“Alright- tell me”
“What?”
“You’re bottling something; it’s obvious. Why don’t you say it, y’know? Just… Get it out”
“Get it out… Yeah…” he mused to himself, barely registering that you were still with him.
You peered over at him, frowning, until a shrill yell erupted near the seesaw.
“Come quick, come quick!”
Both you and Antony rushed over as Ingrid signed back to Erika.
“What? What’s wrong? What is it?”
You followed their twitching eyes to the shrubbery in the distance, where a red balloon began to sink under a pile of daffodils before vanishing completely.
“Ingrid saw it first…” Erika said, clutching onto the seesaw with a tremble. “She said it had your name on it”
Your heart was hammering in your chest as you took one look back at the shrubbery, and shakily exhaled.
“Right, we’re leaving. Now”
You and Antony gathered the kids as quickly as you could and set off home. They didn’t kick up much of a fuss once you told them why.
///
“Was that the clown?” Brandon asked.
“Could’ve been” you said, sharing a glance with Ingrid. “So who are we dropping off first?”
“I’m not” Adam said, hoisting up his backpack. “I gotta go see Ray”
“Who’s Ray?” Antony asked.
“My friend” Adam replied “I need to give him his book back”
“Let’s see! Let’s see!”
Without a word of notice, Erika opened his backpack and pulled out a yellow book, with a happy train illustrated on the cover:
‘The Little Engine That Could’ by Wattie Piper.
It sounded familiar, but it wasn’t one you read when you were growing up. No. The ones you thought of were; ‘The Tale of Peter Rabbit’, ‘Alice in Wonderland’ and ‘The Secret Garden’.
Recalling it made you wistful somehow, as if you wanted to pick them up and read them again.
“Can I have it?” Erika pleaded.
“No, I need to give it back to Ray” Adam said, tugging it out of her hands.
“Yeah, Ray’s been out of class”
“Out of class? Is he sick?” You asked, your chest tightening.
Adam shook his head.
“He just stopped showing up. We’ve not seen him”
All the children went quiet, even Erika, who let go of the book as Adam tucked it back into his backpack.
Pushing every last ounce of dread to the back of your mind, you gathered the kids in a circle. Honestly, you were becoming more and more like a baseball coach every day.
“If you’re going to Ray’s house, I want all of you to go, alright? No splitting up now”
“What about when we want to go home?” Erika asked, her lower lip wobbling.
Peering at the ground, an idea flashed through your head.
“Do any of your parents have a car?”
“My dad does” Brandon said, swaying sheepishly from side to side.
“Okay, well, after you go see Ray, go to Brandon’s house; all of you. Ask his dad to drop you off. Don’t take no for an answer, okay?”
Your shoulders eased up a little, even though your neck was still tight as a wrench. You needed to make sure they understood how important it was.
“Now I want each of you to promise you’ll do that, alright? Adam?”
“I promise” he said.
“Good. Brandon?”
“Yep, promise”
“Why are you asking Brandon? It’s his house we’re-”
Before Erika could finish, you cut her off with a stern voice.
“Erika…”
“Okay, promise…”
She sulked, signing to Ingrid, who responded with a quick nod and a gesture of her hands.
“Ingrid says she promises too…”
“That’s good” you exhaled.
You stood and moved next to Antony for backup.
“Remember, the clown can’t get you if you stay together, alright? Stick together ”
“How do you know?” Adam said, scratching his nose.
“Trust me. I know” you replied, exchanging a glance with Antony. “We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
“Okay”
The kids waved as they ran off, chasing each other down the road. Luckily on that occasion, Ingrid had no roller skates on. Doubtful she would try that again.
“Well” Antony began with a chuckle “So much for-”
He stopped when you collapsed to the floor, grunting, clutching your stomach.
Your muscles ripped again, and down by your ovaries- there was a painful, twisting sensation. Like razor wire digging through your intestines.
If it was your period, it was like nothing you had ever experienced before.
“Whoa, what’s happening?! What’s wrong?!”
Antony tried holding you steady, but you wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and scream.
“My stomach… It’s…”
“Okay, okay, okay” Antony stuttered, trying not to panic. You were pretty sure he swore under his breath. “We’ll… We’ll get a doctor- just…”
He moved your arm around his shoulder and hoisted you up.
His body strength surprised you, considering he was medium built. Must have been all that time looking after his grandparents; the heavy lifting. He wasn’t even breaking a sweat.
“You can do it” he encouraged you as you took one step at a time, dizzy and hardly able to focus.
The ground looked like it was on a ball, constantly rotating and changing everywhere you stepped. It made you stumble a few times on the cobbled street.
“Whoa, easy now”
“Excuse me!” A man shouted across the way, running over. “Is she alright?”
The man, wearing a striped apron, appeared to be in his forties, and though his facial stubble was rough-looking and greasy, his voice had a genuine concern to it. And there was nothing sleazy underneath.
“She’s sick” Antony replied. “She needs a doctor”
“Don’t know how you expect to get one walking at that pace” the man said, pointing to the butcher’s shop across the way. “Come on, get her inside”
“Really, we don’t want to impose”
“Nonsense, you ain’t getting nowhere hobbling around like that” the man said. “Come on now, let me lend you a hand”
The man lifted your other arm, and together, he and Antony hoisted you up, side by side, guiding you towards the butcher’s shop. There weren’t many customers, anyway.
“Clear out, we’ve got a sick lady over here”
As soon as he mentioned the word ‘sick’, the remaining customers practically wriggled their way to the door. They couldn’t get out fast enough.
“Are you sure she’ll be alright?” Antony asked as he helped you onto a chair.
“She’ll be fine, son. I’ll get her a drink” the butcher said, hobbling behind the counter. “You go on now and get the doctor. We’ll be here”
Antony quickly switched over the sign on the door to ‘Sorry: We’re Closed’ and sprinted out like a headless chicken.
Ironic, considering where you were sitting.
There were animal parts hanging all around you. Cows, pigs, even one that looked a bit like alligator meat. But you might have been mistaken. Everything was still so hazy.
“Damn tap…” the butcher rumbled from behind the counter. “Sorry, miss- won’t be a minute. Plumbing’s on the brink”
His words reached you, but you couldn’t respond.
Your stomach was doing flips, and not the nauseous kind either.
The scent of raw meat was overwhelming. The fatty juices, the seasoning of pepper and paprika, and a copper tang underlining it; wet and sticky, like blood.
You held in a screech as you fell off the chair, hugging your chest as you rocked back and forth. You wanted it to stop.
Out of nowhere, a sweet melody entered your head, like porridge on a winter’s day…
“🎵 Oranges and lemons
Say the bells of St Clement’s… 🎵”
The nursery rhyme was familiar, but not the children singing it. It was like they were in another place in Derry, in another time.
“🎵 You owe me five farthings
Say the bells of St. Martin’s… 🎵”
Suddenly, the pain inside you had been replaced with warm, fuzzy lights.
The ache of hunger was still there. But it was no longer unpleasant. Like the hunger that someone would experience before they tucked into a three-course meal. The satisfaction. You were around so much meat. So much opportunity. You wanted to feast. You needed to feast.
“🎵 Here comes a candle to light you to bed… 🎵”
Your whole body fell still- and your head drooped.
“🎵 And here comes a chopper to chop off your head! 🎵”
“Here you go-” the butcher said, the clip-clops of his boots approaching. “One fresh glass of…”
He ran over quickly, given the state you were in.
“Hey, hey, what’s the matter, girl?” he said, giving you a pat on the back. “Need to be sick or something?”
Warm fluid trickled out of your mouth, dripping down your skirt and onto the floor. You were sure it was drool, but it didn’t taste the same. Not that you cared. You only cared about one thing.
“I’m hungry…” you murmured in a deep, rumbling voice.
Drool continued to spill down your chin as your jaw clicked from side to side…
You finally looked at the butcher, who was kneeling down next to you- but as soon as he saw your eyes, your mouth, he leapt back, pale as death, his mouth contorting in a horror you didn’t think possible.
If reason were still inside you, you would have pitied the man as he scrambled away.
He gasped and panted as you slowly dragged your body towards him.
Your mouth split open in some unfathomable way, but there was no mirror. You couldn’t see what was actually happening, nor could you think about it, not even as the butcher welled up with tears.
The only feeling, the only need that you had at that moment was something that had taken complete hold over you. The craving beyond all else. Something that you would do anything to satiate. Anything at all.
“I’m hungry…”.
Notes:
A/N: Highly recommend you don’t eat while reading the next chapter (just a heads up)
Chapter 10: Afflicted
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Afflicted
You couldn’t remember how you got back to the boarding house- or how you ended up in your room. You only remembered that you had washed yourself off, your blouse was dripping wet, and your skirt was so dark that nobody could tell the difference between that and the stains.
The door closed behind you.
Shuffling past the tasselled light shade, you sat on the bed as it creaked under your weight. You could see everything, but you were staring at nothing. You were a blank slate.
Something was lodged inside your mouth. Slimy, like uncooked pork skin, as it tried to seep its way to the back of your throat.
You retched, coughing it up onto the floor.
It was a chunk of skin. Human skin. A cheek, to be exact, given the prickly facial hair that was still attached to it.
With a shriek, you leapt back onto the bed and covered your mouth.
It didn’t take away what happened, what you did, and the events of the hour before were rattling into your bones, sending you into a panic.
You couldn’t think of what to do, but then you realised you couldn’t move either.
A stringy substance caught the back of your hair and shoulders, and the more you wriggled, the more it spread over you.
You tried pulling at it, only to realise in horror that stretching across the tip of your hand was a white web, sticking to your arms and anything else that might have touched the wall. Like quicksand, the more you struggled, the deeper it pulled you in.
But you weren’t thinking straight. The tickling sensation was horrible, like there were maggots squirming around you- and it enveloped the back of your neck, till eventually, your upper half was completely trapped.
Webbing was all around the four walls, and you wondered in quiet terror where the spider was, or were there multiple? You didn’t want to think about it. You didn’t want anything wriggling all over you.
“Uh-oh…” a familiar voice giggled, the sound reverberating under your bed. “Someone’s been naughty…”
You squealed under your breath as one white glove crawled out from the side of the bed, then another, and with it, a mass of orange hair.
Gangly limbs stretched out across the floor as he giggled to himself.
“Oh, don’t mind me- just squeeeeezing through…”
He reached the chunk of skin on the floor and picked it up.
“Looks like you dropped something!” Pennywise said, tilting his head at you innocently. “Don’t you want it?”
You shook your head frantically, wishing you could scream, and he pouted.
“Aww, come now!”
He stood tall, almost hitting the ceiling.
“It’s bad manners to waste your food” he said, holding the chunk of flesh with a wicked grin. “Yes, yes, it is”
As he leant over you, his gloved hand slid up your leg; slowly, methodically, feeling every curve, giving a sharp pinch at your knee. Your body jerked involuntarily at the sudden nip, and he giggled, before his face softened. Like a memory that had been left to rot for eons.
“So, so lonely… Aren’t we?”
He tapped his fingers over the fabric of your stocking like he was doing a puppet show- but there was danger in it. The quiet growl he was failing to disguise, as though he was trying to resist the urge to tear you limb from limb… Or… Was it…
“All this time… Keeping your hunger locked away… When all you want…”
He squeezed your inner thigh as you let out a shiver of panic- and with it, a blossoming heat that you tried so hard to ignore.
“Is to set… It… Free…”
Slipping his hand under your skirt, his mouth opened- full of need- as his pupils dilated.
‘No… Surely he wouldn’t…’
No. He was.
His fingers trailed over the lace rim of your knickers, and despite the throbbing ache that was rising there- your survival instincts took hold- and you went to kick him.
“Ah, ah, ah” he said mockingly, snatching your foot. “Be a good girl…”
Pennywise twisted your ankle, and you let out a yelp as he grinned, pleased at himself, reminding you that at any moment he could tear your whole leg off if he chose to.
Despite the pain shooting through your ankle, you didn’t fight back. It was pointless.
Instead of continuing to plunge your underwear, his hand dragged up your skirt, past your blouse, and right to the curve of your collarbone.
“Here comes the choo-choo train!” he said in a sickly sing-song voice.
You panicked and turned your head away. Anything to avoid what was coming.
He hovered the skin in front of your face like it was on a spoon and he was trying to feed a misbehaving child. But you were determined not to give in.
Unfortunately, your arms, hands, and back were glued to the wall with cobwebs, and there was nothing much you could do- no matter how much you wriggled and tried to get away.
With one hand, Pennywise pinched your nose tightly so you couldn’t breathe through it, and practically shoved the flesh along your upper lip.
You whimpered loudly, keeping your mouth shut as tight as you could. Air rose inside your cheeks, swelling up- you must have looked like a deranged chipmunk. That only amused Pennywise further- as he pressed harder against your face, the folds of skin mushing against your lip, with such firmness that it hurt your teeth, and you were running out of oxygen.
Your heart sped up and up and up. Something had to give.
Trying to be sneaky, you pursed your lips open ever so slightly, less than a millimetre, you reckoned- to let air out, and let it back in.
Pennywise must have felt the breath on his glove, and brutally shoved the remains of the cheek inside your mouth, with barely any time for you to protest.
His fingers pushed it further and further inside, grazing against your teeth, and for a moment you were tempted to bite down. You knew that would be a bad idea.
Flesh slipped to the back of your throat and you choked on it momentarily, realising with utter revulsion that the only way to get rid of it was to spit it out, or chew and swallow.
You thought about the first option, but Pennywise clamped your mouth shut before you could- and gripped your hair with his other hand so you couldn’t struggle too much.
“Remember to chew now…” he said viciously.
At least his hands weren’t on your nose anymore. You could breathe through it at least.
The sensation in your mouth was horrible. The prickly facial hair attached to the skin tickling your tongue. Specks of blood and tissue tingling like fat and gristle. It was like the worst of Sunday leftovers; meat that had gone putrid.
Tearfully, you forced yourself to chew. Chew as quickly as you could. You weren’t about to savour the taste. And luckily a few seconds later, you swallowed the whole thing without choking.
Pennywise shivered with delight as you swallowed, vibrations from his body reaching the hand on your mouth as his hot breath bristled against your eyelashes.
“Don’t look so sad-” he cooed, his lips brushing against your skin. “You’ll get used to it... Yessss... Keep feeding, and you’ll get used to it…”
He licked up your tears with his long, wet tongue, dragging across the side of your face like an eel.
From your helplessness- came a bitter rage… But before you could think to shove him away, you caught a sky of stars, shimmering, where the ceiling had once been.
And like that- the world around you had gone.
///
After a moment of weightlessness - you landed smack into an old town square.
You were in a linen smock and a stiff bodice petticoat, covered in mud- the other women were dressed like you as well, but most had collapsed on the floor, breaking out in horrible red rashes.
The town leaders tried to keep the peace as others were left to vomit in a corner. How many people were unconscious and how many were dead? You wondered, as rodents scurried about the street.
“What’s happening?!” you screeched, digging your nails into your scalp. “What is this?!”
“This is Derry… As it once was…” Maturin answered, and you looked once again to the sky. “It’s history… The events that have taken place. They cannot be altered ”
“What does that even mean?!” you yelled as you picked yourself up. “Why- why am I here?! Am I losing my mind?!”
“No… What is happening to you is real ”
Lights twinkled above, as if Maturin was trying to cover you in a blanket of stars for comfort. It wasn’t working.
“And it will get worse ” he continued “Unless you leave Derry ”
You wanted to argue back, to ask a million questions, but you couldn’t fathom the words. Instead, you dug into your scalp with a roar, trying to use the sharp, clawing pain to distract from the nightmare that was unfolding around you.
“You need to stay calm ” Maturin said, and at that you broke into a fit of laughter.
“Oh, that’s easy for you to say!”
You pointed to yourself, every fibre in your body twitching.
“This is hell. This is living hell. What did I ever do to deserve this?!”
“It is not your fault ” he answered softly as you paced round and round in circles. “But right now, all you need to know is that you are in danger. The longer you stay in Derry, the worse it will get- for you, and those you hold dear. IT already has power over you ”
“IT…?” You whimpered.
“Pennywise… Its’ influence is spreading. Once you leave, that hold will weaken, and your life will be as it was ”
“Leave? I... I don’t...”
You tripped over your own words as the sky darkened.
“Heed my warning… It is your only hope…”.
///
His voice echoed, but you were no longer there. There wasn’t any sign of him, or Pennywise, or the horrors you had been thrust into.
A bubbly voice called out your name- and with a turn, you came face-to-face with Kitty, dressed to the nines, limping over to you.
The chandelier in The Lighthouse Club was disorientating; not only for its sheer sparkle, but the way it jingled as Kitty moved across the floor.
How you came to be there, whether of your own volition, or through a strange cosmic force, you didn’t know. It was happening so often you weren’t sure you cared anymore.
“You’re a little early, you know” she said, twirling a strand of hair around her fingers. “We’ve only just started setting up the-”
Before Kitty could finish, you leapt into her arms, hugging her so tightly that for a couple of seconds she was frozen to the spot.
“Whoa- hey, what’s all this then?”
She held onto you as you sobbed, even though she didn’t have the foggiest clue what was going on.
It didn’t matter. You just wanted to hold on to her, to someone.
Anything.
Notes:
A/N: You’ll never think of dinner the same way again…
Chapter 11: Music Man
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Music Man
You never expected to find yourself in a dressing room like that.
Having moved from town to town looking for work, you didn’t have a true space to call your own; to powder your face, to display pretty boxes of jewelry- and yet there you were, glimpsing a piece of luxury you could only dream about.
“Drink up” Kitty said, signalling to the glass in your hand with a raised eyebrow. “You look like you need it”
Shuffling onto the velvet stool, you took a giant gulp of brandy; liquid heat burning down your throat as you looked around the room.
It truly was luxurious; with crystal lamplights and the giant vanity showcasing colourful perfume bottles, mascara and rouge. Like you were sitting among the possessions of a movie star.
“Do you think I should leave?” You uttered, your hand shaking against the glass.
“What?”
“Derry, I mean…”
Kitty gave you the side-eye as she bent over a mirror, gently brushing a tooth comb through her hair. She kept quiet, curious enough to let you carry on.
“Bad things are happening…” you began, gripping your head. “There's something… I... I think I'm cursed…”
Kitty let out a short laugh, sounding harsher than she probably meant to.
“Cursed? Yeah, yeah, cursed. I'm cursed. The whole world's cursed” she scoffed, lifting her foot onto the chair. “Nothing we can do about it. Just gotta keep pushing on”
She rolled down a stocking, and you were instantly taken aback.
No, there wasn’t a knife or gun hidden in her garter- but a wooden leg, with straps neatly tucked somewhere, presumably around her waist. No wonder she had been limping all that time.
Kitty caught you staring, but she didn't mind one bit.
“Oh, this?” she said, giving a sharp knock on her wooden knee. “Church roof fell on a few of us back where we grew up. Took my leg clean off. Priest didn't get hurt, though. Figures”
You gave a small smile as your fingers rubbed against the cold curves of the brandy glass. You kept your head low, though. There was way too much on your mind.
“Hey, listen” Kitty said, kneeling down to your eye level. “Bad things might be happening in Derry, but bad things happen everywhere. We can't just run away. What good will it do?”
She gently wrapped her hands around yours as you kept the glass steady.
“You gotta keep living your life, do you understand? No matter what”
Abruptly, the door swung open- and Antony burst in like it was a soap opera.
“Hey, mister! This is the women's dressing room! Clear out!” Kitty said, standing up furiously.
Antony didn’t register she was there as his focus was solely on you- shaking your shoulders as if you were a broken toy.
“Where the hell were you?! I've been looking all over! You alright?!” he said, breaking eye contact for a moment, wincing. “The butcher, he…”
Antony caught Kitty glaring daggers at him, and he stood as stiff as a plank.
“Oh-” he fumbled, quickly taking off his hat and keeping it to his chest. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean-”
A woman rushed into the room, clearly one of the club staff, wearing a polka dot dress and a bow tie scarf.
“Sorry” she panted, pointing a finger at Antony. “I told him to wait, but he snuck right past me!”
“Oh, jeez”
Kitty sighed, turning to Antony, who had his eyes ogled on her wooden leg as if he didn't know what to make of it.
“You wanna kiss my boo-boo and make it better?” Kitty said, placing a hand on her hip.
Antony turned bright red and immediately diverted his attention to the wallpaper.
“Go on, then. Shoo!”
The other woman practically dragged him out of the door, and you got up to follow, sneaking a glance back at Kitty, rolling her eyes.
You weren’t nearly as tense after that.
///
“So I went to the butcher's again-” Antony began, the pair of you narrowly avoiding traffic on the road. “But no one's seen a peep of him since yesterday”
You dug your nails into your work jacket, hoping he didn't notice.
“Is that why you ran off?” Antony said, cutting in front so you had to stop dead in your tracks. “Did he… Did he do something? Did he hurt you?”
You tried shaking your head, but you suddenly felt nauseous and cupped your hand to your mouth to stop yourself from retching.
Antony folded his arms, taking a deep inhale through his nose.
“You really ought to see that doctor, you know”
“No, no” you said, swerving past him.
“He was willing to do a check-up! Come on, he's-”
His argument ran cold as soon as you both spotted four children sitting outside of the toy store, one of them with his head in his hands.
“Adam? Guys? What's wrong?”
None of them spoke up, save for Erika, who after re-braiding one of her pigtails, said:
“We went to Ray's house, but he’s not there anymore… He's gone…”
Adam looked up, his face red from crying.
Goosebumps pricked your arms as you gathered the children with a trembling voice.
“Let's talk inside, okay?”.
///
“It's him, isn't it?” Adam mumbled, sitting in the corner. “The clown… He took Ray…”
“We don't know that yet” you pleaded, patting him on the back. “Just-”
“It is the clown. I know it is. I keep... I keep seeing him…”
“I keep seeing him too” Brandon said, twiddling his fingers. “The other day he looked like my dad, but my dad was at work, so it couldn't have been him…”
Erika nodded and signed back and forth to Ingrid, clinging onto each other like conjoined twins.
“Sometimes he looks like the milkman” Erika said, suppressing a shudder. “I didn't open the door, though… I was scared…”
“That's what he wants” you said, holding out your hands as if you were praying. “He wants us to be scared. But you have each other”
You pointed, your shoulders tensing up like an iron wrench.
“Remember: don't go off on your own, and don't let strangers near you, even if they look friendly” you said, shutting your eyes tightly for a moment before standing up straight again. “This clown, whatever he is, he's some sort of shapeshifter. You can't-”
Antony stormed away, and you told the kids not to wander off as you went after him.
“Antony, where are you going?!”
He muttered under his breath as you finally caught up to him, grabbing his arm.
“Antony, what's gone into you?!”
“What's gotten into me?” he scoffed, frowning. “I’m not the one telling ghost stories here!”
You tried to defend your point, but he held out his hand to stop you.
“I get it; there’s a sicko going round hurting kids. But stop filling their heads with all this ‘alien’ nonsense- you’re confusing them!”
“Antony, I keep telling you, he's not human!”
“It's just some guy in a clown costume, that’s all” Antony said, gritting his teeth. “I'll talk to the police if it makes you feel any better”
“No, that's not the-”
Antony sighed, wandering off again.
“It's more than that- I'm not making this up, please!”
He escaped to the till before you could finish talking to him- and with a grunt; you threw your arms down.
You wanted to kick one of the shelves, but you knew it would’ve sent them all toppling over like a chain of dominoes. That would be a sight to behold, but it would also be a sight that'd get you fired.
All at once, your ears pricked up at the sound of singing coming outside the shop. Some in high tones, some low, all fairly masculine. You wondered if there was a street parade going on.
That was soon ruled out as the doorbell jingled, and headed inside were four well-dressed men in matching striped outfits and straw hats. A barbershop quartet, from the look of things.
“🎵 Tell each bluenose and gloom-chaser you ever find,
Hey there, wipe that frown right off your face! 🎵”
They were singing in perfect harmony, the shortest member of the band ironically with a baritone voice, and a lanky companion by the side twiddling a cane.
The families that were in, which wasn't many that day, all crowded around the quartet- until Shirl, with the red hair who'd snitched on you once before, almost fainted when she saw the group singing by the entrance.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding me ” she said, not bothering to hide her disdain as she stormed through the customers.
“🎵 Smile, darn ya, smile!
You know this old world is a great world after all! 🎵”
“Excuse me-” Shirl said, pushing her way to the front. “You fellas aren't allowed to perform here. I'm afraid I'm gonna have to ask you to leave”
While that was going on, you caught an unnerving detail about the men's faces. They all had funny red lines drawn down the side of their mouths, like ventriloquist dummies; with rosy red cheeks and eye makeup.
The more you looked, the more you realised… None of them were blinking.
“Are you listening? I told you to clear off!” Shirl spat, clicking her fingers in front of them derogatively.
The leader of the band had stopped singing by that point, and slowly creaked his head towards you, until he was staring you straight in the face.
You had a sinking feeling as you bit your lip, but before you could go off and warn anyone, the leader of the barbershop quartet grabbed Shirl by her chin, lifting her into the air with unnatural strength.
The crowd were too mesmerised by the singing to even notice, until, after Shirl let out a whimper, the man dug his hands into her mouth and ripped her lower jaw clean off.
One child screamed first as blood spurted everywhere; on the floor, on the shelves, on the man's striped suit and waistcoat.
Shirl hit the floor with a thud- strips of flesh dangling out of the missing half of her face, along with her drooping tongue, and her eyes rolled back into their sockets.
The barbershop quartet kept singing all the while as people fled, pushing and shoving as quickly as possible through the exit. The quartet didn't stop them. For their eyes were on you.
The leader led the others, shuffling step by step, towards you- their eyes glowing orange as they sang in unison.
“🎵 Things are never black as they are painted,
Time for you and joy to get acquainted! 🎵”
Antony shouted your name a few times, but you couldn't move. You were paralyzed as the men crept closer, all of them like one singular being, suffocating you in pure light.
Ingrid tugged at your jacket, trying to drag you to the basement door as the other kids fled inside- along with Antony, who was shouting your name.
You came back to your senses and picked up little Ingrid- running as the song got louder, coming from a few feet away.
The basement was dark, save for one shoddy bulb.
“Stay back, kids!” Antony yelled, ushering them down the stairs.
They huddled by the warehouse boxes as you and Antony barricaded the door- shadows could be seen from the gaps as the singing got louder and louder. More demonic.
“🎵 Smile, darn ya, smile! 🎵”
You fumbled for the spare set of keys in your pocket- all the staff had one, and had to pay five dollars if they were ever lost. The problem was, there were so many keys for so many things that you couldn't remember which one was made for what.
“Come on, hurry!” Antony shouted as figures banged and slammed against the other side of the door, hungry to get in.
Fingers slipping, you fiddled through the keys as quickly as you could, until you found a long bronze key with an ink-stained rim at the bottom.
You shoved it into the keyhole as the door banged and thumped against you. The force of it could have sent you and Antony flying down the stairs, and your hands were dripping with sweat. You couldn't hold on much longer.
With one final push, you twisted the key until there was a click, and Antony pulled you away.
“We need to go! Now!”
Racing down the stairs, you and Antony grabbed two children each and escaped out the back door, as the thumping in the basement continued.
And as a gentle breeze whooshed through your hair, you knew you were out… That everyone would be safe…
So you didn't know why the singing followed you all the while…
Notes:
A/N: When the barbershop quartet sings- start running.
Chapter 12: Dreams Of Youth
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Dreams Of Youth
A white wagon sped down the street as police cars followed its trail.
“That was him, wasn't it?!” Erika said, her braces chattering together.
Ingrid was clinging onto her arm, and Brandon tugged at Antony's trouser leg, saying, “Did you see that? Did you see her jaw?”
“W-w-what if he gets us?!” Adam said, sobbing, as his little knuckles rubbed over his eyes.
“It's alright now. You're safe” you said, trying to keep them from running off in separate directions.
They were in hysterics, understandable- considering what had happened.
You imagined the police arriving at the scene, finding Shirl's body. You imagined her being taken to the morgue, never to be seen again. You wondered how Mr. Clark would react, knowing him he’d probably try to cover it up as much as possible… If there was anything left to cover up.
Past the carpenter shop, the phone booth swung open as Antony ran inside.
“Antony, it's no use!” You shouted, jogging to catch up to him. “The police are-”
“I’m not calling the police!”
Antony rumbled in his pocket as loose change jangled about inside.
“Then who are you calling?!” you asked, snatching the phone away- the wire connected to it pulling taut.
He huffed, giving you a nickel, practically forcing it onto the palm of your hand.
“Here, you do it then. Call the family, call the parents, call whoever you need to. But after that I… I just can't…”
“Antony…”
“I can't. I'm sorry. I can't get involved in this anymore. It's just- it's just too much…”
He stormed down the street before you could catch him.
“Wait, please!”
Shouting for him was useless, even though you were doing it anyway.
He had vanished.
You only realised you were still holding the phone when a crackly voice on the other side said: “Hello, this is the operator speaking. Can you hear me? Hello? ”
Slamming the phone down, you were tempted to let out every curse word imaginable. But the children were still there, and they were all looking at you, their pale faces marked with such a vulnerability that it hurt your heart.
“Where's Antony?” Adam asked, his mouth wobbling. “Where?”
You leaned your head against the side of the booth.
“He's a bit upset, that's all… He'll be fine. Come on”
You held out your hand expectantly, as if all the kids would follow you like the Pied Piper.
“I gotta take you home”
There was an uproar as all the kids poured around you, shouting waves of “No!” and “I don't want to go home! It's too scary!”, and “Don't leave! Don't leave!”.
You knelt down as your patience began to crumble.
After all, one of your dearest friends had stormed off, leaving you to pick up the pieces on your own. It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.
“What about a sleepover?” Brandon suggested. “My mum's been wanting to go out for a while”
“Yeah! Yeah!” Erika beamed, jumping around. “You can look after us!”
Look after? Did they mean as a child-sitter?
You weren't sure that was a good idea at all. After all, you were no nanny. You worked in a toy store, and even though you had grown fond of the group, you imagined that turning up at their parents' house would look suspicious, to say the least.
“I'm sorry, champ” you said, ruffling Brandon's hair. "I don't think your mum and dad would like that very much…”.
///
“Make sure he doesn't drink too much milk or he'll wet the bed” Mrs. Quinn said as she clip-clopped her way down the porch, with heels far too high to be practical. “And thank you for doing this on such short notice, dear. We'll be back tomorrow- 7 AM sharp”
“You kids behave now” Mr. Quinn said as he honked the car horn.
There were obvious similarities within the family; Brandon, with the same slicked-back hair as his father, and dimples he inherited from his mother- although hers had more of a pale, freckly tint. You wondered if they were of Irish descent as their accents were a bit off, but you decided not to bring it up.
They waved as the car set off down the road.
All the children ran inside except Ingrid, who was just as puzzled at the current situation as you were.
‘Child-sitting’- you couldn't believe it. Brandon’s parents barely knew you and yet were happy to leave their son and a bunch of his friends in your care. You would have been disgusted if the kids weren’t so pleased with the idea.
And so, hand in hand, you and Ingrid walked inside as the rocking chair creaked in the wind.
///
For the impromptu sleepover, you found yourself at the mercy of the kids' boundless energy, each of them dragging you off to play with the toys they had found.
First there was a game of dominoes, next- hide and seek.
At one point, you snuck off to listen to the gramophone downstairs and put in a couple of records, tapping your heels to the jazz melodies that flowed from the brass horn, until Brandon came down and declared that only his parents could use it.
Adam spent a while listening to the cartoon shows on the radio, while Ingrid proudly displayed her athletic abilities, cartwheeling and standing on her head, until finally she got too dizzy and fell over.
Erika practically demanded that you take her on a piggyback ride, which you found hilarious, as while you were whizzing her around, she was pointing like a gladiator in the Roman Coliseum.
You made a pillow fort as you acted out a few bedtime stories; ‘Hansel and Gretel’ and ‘The Three Little Pigs’- knocking down the fort and tackling each of the kids in a hug as they giggled.
“Can we stay with you?” Adam asked, gripping himself tightly.
Part of you imagined the night would end with a relaxing glass of wine, watching the sunset- but as Brandon tiptoed in with a few teddy bear blankets, you realized that… As the curtains closed… Their fears had come back.
They needed an adult, someone to watch over them, someone to protect them. You weren't sure if you were cut out for the job, but they chose you. They trusted you.
“I wish you were my real mom” Erika said as she snuggled into a warm blanket.
Tears stung the tips of your eyelashes. You didn’t know why it moved you so much, but it had.
All those kids- they were no older than ten, and they had already been through so much in their brief lives. And though you weren't their mother, though you couldn't be their mother, a warmth stirred in your chest, an instinct to keep them cosy in the blankets, away from the terrors that lurked in the dark.
And you could be their light- to hold on to, at least, for a little while.
///
You couldn't sleep.
As hard as you tried, your eyes were open, peering into the darkness- they weren’t even heavy, and you were tempted to get up and walk around, but at the same time you didn't want to wake the kids. They had school in the morning, after all.
Your shoulder ached after lying down on your side for so long. Even so, you didn't move.
Until, that is, smoke wafted towards you from the room and heat rose, growing hot against your back.
You jumped up, only to realise that you weren't in Brandon's house anymore. The children weren't there.
There was woodland all around you, and wet grass tickled the tips of your fingers.
You were wearing an apron and neckerchief, along with a plain dark skirt. Were you supposed to be a maid? You touched the back of your head and felt a cap wrapped around your hair. The maid idea checked out at least.
Then- a voice called your name.
It was deep, yet gentle, addressing you like a lover.
You closed your eyes for a moment. It was so soothing, you could have listened to it call your name forever- even as some words it spoke were foreign. But strangely, you knew the language, even though you couldn’t recall ever learning it before.
Pushing yourself onto your knees, you realized you had been lying next to a campfire- and saw, beyond the dying flames- a pair of orange eyes staring at you, deep from the forest.
“Come to me…” the voice beckoned, in its native tongue. “Come… Rest with me for eternity…”
Its glowing gaze was hypnotizing, and the more you stared back, the more it ensnared you in its grasp.
Mesmerized, you shuffled closer to it with your hand outstretched- when all of a sudden- other voices erupted, breaking you out of your trance-like state.
Humming ebbed and flowed from a nearby barn. That’s what it reminded you of, except that it was longer at the back, with an archway-like structure made of bark. You took a few steps towards it, and the voices inside were speaking in a language you didn't understand.
Inside, ribbon had been left to dry on the fire, and intricate pottery was decorated around with various symbols. You recognised one of them as a heron, but that was about all.
The group, huddled in a circle with breechcloth and beads draped in their hands, continued whispering things you didn’t understand.
You approached with a cough, trying to get their attention, but none of them moved.
They continued to speak among themselves as if they were in a trance. They were clearly of an old tribe; ‘Shokopiwah’ you guessed, but you weren't sure.
Shuffling your way to the indoor fire, you peered over- but one man grabbed your wrist before you could see what was happening.
He shouted something, his eyes, pure white like snow, bulging out as he clung on with a grip like iron, digging his nails into your flesh. You yanked back a few times... Then-
“What are you doing?”
You turned to the little voice behind you, and Erika stood at the entrance of a backyard.
The sky was turning dark blue, and the sun was steadily rising. You weren't sure how long you had been out there for; all you knew is that you must have been back at Brandon's house. Why did it keep happening?
“Don't you like flowers?” Erika asked, tilting her head.
You followed her gaze to the flower bed, your feet crunching against the stems of a few pink roses.
“Oh, er-”
You quickly hopped onto the gravel, trying your best to save the few roses that had their necks bent out of shape. They continued to droop. You sighed.
“Don't worry, they'll grow back” Brandon said, hovering by the door with a bowl of cereal. “My dad steps in them too”
Your stomach growled.
“Right then” you said with a smile.
You made your way inside as the sun rose over the fence.
///
The horrid pain inside your stomach returned.
You tripped down the last few steps of the porch as Mr. Quinn lifted you up.
“Sure we can't get you a doctor?” he asked as you wobbled away.
“No, really, I just- I need to go”
He continued asking questions long after you had left the house.
You could hear him down the road saying, “Hey, do you need a lift?” and “You might not make it very far”
A few pleasantries later, and you were out of sight- your gut twisting and pulsating as if there were tumours growing inside of you.
It was like a heavyweight champion was punching and kicking his way through your organs. And every kick, every punch, made you hunch over as if you were ready to collapse.
“Oh, God…” you groaned, clutching onto your waist as your hand reached for anything you could use to support yourself. A wall, a fence, the side of a tree, a post box.
Heat flushed to your face as you wandered along the streets. You could feel people staring, but you couldn't face looking at them. All you wanted was to get back to your room as soon as possible. And the kids would be fine; that was one thing. But you? Oh, you weren't so sure about yourself.
You creaked open the gate to the boarding house.
After walking for so long, your knees were like jelly, as if they were being held up by matchsticks. Nothing tangible, nothing strong.
Another growl from your stomach-
CRACK.
Your spine snapped like a twig, and you cried out, crawling to the back wall, where the trash cans were kept.
Bad move.
The scent of cooked fats. Chicken bones. Cooking oils, all mixed in a sickly sweet concoction, probably with a few banana peels and newspaper cutouts in the mix. But to you, in that moment, it was irresistible.
Warm drool dripped out of your mouth again, and all the awful feelings inside you were slipping away, where there was nothing but need, hunger.
“What do you think you're playing at?!” Mrs. Fairgreen huffed, her stumpy little legs making their way over to you.
She still had the same dressing gown on and a cigarette in her hand. You wondered how often she washed herself, and her teeth were the yellowest of yellow.
“Showing up at this hour- did you forget the curfew?!”
You could only focus on her gesturing hands, veins throbbing, the extra folds of skin that shook around as she went on a tangent.
“11 PM! That's the rule! Why I ought to…”
Mrs. Fairgreen dropped her cigarette as soon as you locked eyes with her.
She was paralysed too, like the butcher. Paralysed with fear. Somehow you could smell it, taste it, like salt on roast beef. You'd kill for roast beef. You were hungry.
… You were so, so hungry.
Notes:
A/N: Well, it’s true what they say: ‘You are what you eat’!
Chapter 13: Primal Fear
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Primal Fear
Your gums tingled as you chewed on the last bit of grizzle. It all seemed perfectly natural at that moment. Normal.
Absentmindedly, you stared out of the kitchen window, stroking the red and white checkered curtains. They matched the towels that were strewn about, though that and the lime-green walls made it a hideous sight to behold.
Other women came and went out of the kitchen, their shoes squeaking on the shiny floor as they spoke freely amongst themselves, cigarette smoke wafting along with them.
You caught disjointed talks of where they were going for dinner, an accident with the kettle, and that so-and-so was getting married, but they didn’t think it’d last very long.
Usually, you’d happily listen to the chatter, but your mind was in a far-off place, shrouded in a murky fog. You weren’t even sure what you were staring at outside, if at anything at all. It was like your body was on autopilot, and no one was at the wheel.
One woman called your name, but you didn’t turn around. You didn’t flinch.
“There’s a fella here to see ya” the woman spoke, blowing her nose into a crinkly piece of tissue.
The sound was like a clogged trumpet. You assumed she had a cold. But you didn’t care about the chance of infection. You didn’t care about anything.
Still, you went to the door, as if by instinct, where Antony was waiting in a scuffed suit and spats; his hat against his chest again. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he brought flowers.
“About what happened yesterday, uh…”
His voice trailed off when he spotted you, and he choked.
“Y-your eyes, what…”
You blinked a few times, your cheeks swollen and heavy as you looked at him finally, with no sign of a smile creeping onto your face.
“Sorry, I…” He coughed, wiping his feet on the doormat. “For a moment they looked a little…”
He trailed off again, building up the nerve to face you directly. His eyebrows furrowed.
“Can... Can we talk?”
Your head twitched in what was meant to be a nod, and you led him into the communal room.
No one was in there, although the radio was still playing, and someone had left their bra hanging out to dry on the wooden clothes rack, clearly not embarrassed for anyone to find it lying around. Antony blushed all the same, and did his best to avoid looking at it as he perched on the leather sofa.
His legs shook as if he were doing a tap dance, fidgeting until finally he got up and switched the radio off when you made no move to do it yourself.
“Sorry, I couldn’t concentrate…” he said, pacing back and forth. “Look, I shouldn’t have left you like that- I’m sorry. I’ve just... I’ve not been coping so well”
Your jaw clicked as you scratched the back of your neck. Only half looking at Antony, but truth be told, you were staring right through him.
He gestured to you as if he were begging.
“You… You have to know that every, every part of me wanted to come back- but my folks, they…”
A briefcase clicked open. You only just registered that he was carrying one as he got down onto his knees.
“My... My grandma- as soon as I told her what happened, she showed me something…”
Antony pulled out a few sheets of paper from the briefcase and gently slid them onto your lap. Your thumb traced over the coarse edges, careful not to let it nip you.
“She drew those as children, back when she was living in Derry…”
Antony flicked through the drawings of farmyard animals, horses and cats, of fairies and castles. He stopped at one of the last few pages and pointed, his nail stabbing through the paper.
“She told me kids were going missing back then too. That her brothers kept seeing this”
Antony’s finger stayed right in the middle of the page, where a tall, thin clown had been drawn, with a ruffled suit and pom-poms decorating the front.
It was Pennywise, identical right down to the buck teeth, and the red lines that stretched beyond his mouth.
“That was in 1854” Antony said, his voice cracking. “That’s over eighty years ago”
Your mouth hung open as you stared at the drawings, right before Antony snatched them away again.
“I didn’t want to believe it-” Antony said, pacing around. “I thought it was insane. But you’re right. This thing, whatever it is, it’s not human, is it? It can’t be”
He crumpled the drawings, tossing them onto the floor as he laughed.
“I knew there was a reason they wanted me to keep out of Derry. Listen…”
Gently, he lifted you off the chair, keeping you at his eye level.
“Don’t stay here. We’ll look for a new job”
Stepping back, you mumbled incoherently as he grabbed your shoulders.
“If you need somewhere to go, you can come with me. We have a spare room. We can set you up there for a little while. Just to-”
“Antony, I…”
“Please” he urged, his gaze flickering over you with worry. “Just... Just think about it”
You managed a proper nod, but Antony said nothing until he walked out of his own accord.
“Oh, I’m not sure if anyone’s told you, but…” Antony said, his head lowering. “The toy store’s closed for a couple of days. What with…”
He couldn’t finish that sentence, but you knew what he meant.
“Alright” you replied, not sure if you were putting on a smile or not. Parts of your face were completely numb.
As Antony walked to the front door, you finally regained your senses and chased after him.
“I’ll think about it-” you said as you held onto the doorframe. “I promise”
His expression softened, and with a wave, he headed back where he came. And you couldn’t hold it together anymore.
As soon as he left, you ran upstairs- slamming your room door shut.
You swiped the tasselled lamp off the table and clawed at the sides of your face, scratching your scalp and rummaging along the back of your hair. You had gotten itchy a few minutes before Antony left, and it reached such a maddening point- like chicken pox had broken out in hives across your skin.
A dull pain kicked your stomach, and your heart wanted to jump out of your chest.
‘Not again…’ you thought ‘Not again… Not this…’.
You slapped and punched yourself, aiming at your skull as if to kill whatever foul thing that had been wriggling underneath.
Tiny things slithered inside you, like tapeworms- nestling through the veins in your arms, your legs.
“... Why is this happening to me? Why?”
“Why?” a clownish voice echoed, as if from inside your head. “Because it’s who you are. It’s who you’ve always been”
“No, no, no, no” you said, scratching around the hairs on your arms. “You... You’ve done something to me. You’ve infected me. Get it out. GET IT OUT!”
Pennywise cackled as you continued to scratch yourself.
The worst of it came from the sides of your face, under your hairline, where you were sure there were lumps, blistering cavities, but you couldn’t stop yourself. It was like there were tiny insect legs teeming around your head. You had to claw it out. You had to stop the itching. It was driving you insane.
“Me? I’m not the one who made you crave the butcher… Or the little landlady…”
You tried covering your face, only to realise your fingernails had been stained with blood and yellowish pus. Liquid trickled down the back of your neck, and you suddenly knew where it was coming from.
“You did that aaaaallllll by yourself…”
He giggled as you fell to the floor, your knees taking the brunt of the impact.
“I... I didn’t... I…” you muttered, rocking back and forth. “I never meant to…”
“Oh, but you did mean to, didn’t you? You’re changing”
“Stop it”
“Can’t you feel it? Deep inside…”
As the itching got worse, you ripped open your blouse, exposing your bra and your belly button in a horrifying discovery…
There was a faint red line, sore, as if it was an old stitch wound, extending past the lower part of your stomach, past your breasts, and as you touched your neck, you could feel it there too. Tiny little rash-like marks had been forming along with it, dry and hardly noticeable from a distance, but they were there, as Pennywise continued to purr inside your head.
“Your true self… Worming its way out-”
“STOP IT!”
You ducked to the floor, trying to drown out the noise. You must have looked like an ostrich burying itself in the sand, and you wouldn’t have minded being suffocated in that moment.
All you wanted was for it to stop. One way or another.
“There, there…”
Pennywise murmured, his voice sending tremors down your spine.
“Soon… You’ll be here with me… Then all of this will come to an end…”.
///
No one bothered to check in your room; if they did, they would have found you, writhing and twitching on the floor, as if you were having a seizure.
Your back was locking and wobbling loose, and the shooting pains through your body were like nothing you had ever experienced, zapping and crackling inside of you.
A few women had already returned to their rooms, chattering down the hall, and the scent of copper wafted into your nose, bitter but sweet at the same time. You could almost taste the blood on your tongue, even though there was none. But it had to be coming from somewhere.
You were hungry again.
The lampshade you had knocked onto the floor earlier was still off. Not smashed, luckily. But the room was engulfed in darkness. That didn’t matter, as you crawled your way out of the door.
It wasn’t strange then- to be on all fours. You wanted to be low to the ground, where the scent of blood was growing stronger.
The scent of blood mixed with cold cream wafted in as you creaked open one of the adjacent doors; a fair-haired woman was tucked up in bed; sound asleep, tossing and turning along the covers as she mumbled to herself.
There was a sanitary apron strewn across the floor with specks of blood in the crease. The woman was on her period. You could sense it. The scent of blood made you ravenous. And oh, how normal it felt at that moment. How comforting.
You crawled over to the side of her bed, her swan-like neck exposed as the curls of her hair flickered against the warmth of your breath. Drool dripped on her pillow, oozing in long, thick lines to the side of her cheek. She wriggled a bit, but didn’t stir.
Perhaps a rational part of you remained- as you left the woman alone, scurrying over to her desk and snatching her thick hairbrush.
You needed to feed, feed on something.
She mumbled with a yawn, still half asleep, as you pulled out the fibres of hair from the brush and stuffed them in your mouth, your teeth sharp as razor wire as you chomped down, slurping noises escaping you all the while.
The woman shifted on her bed- but indeed, even if she was waking up- you had already vanished… Leaving the door ajar, as a gust of air blew its way inside…
Notes:
A/N: ‘What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark? It would be like sleep without dreams.’ - Werner Herzog
Chapter 14: Farewell
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Farewell
Clicking open the passenger door, you took a step onto the pavement.
“Sure this isn’t a bit much?” Kitty said, jingling a set of keys.
You tried to check what she was doing, but the Ford’s blue paint reflected the sunlight so harshly, you had to turn away. You assumed she’d be locking up anyhow.
“Yeah” you said, shuffling your coat up to your shoulders. “I don’t know when I’ll be coming back; it’s the least I can do”
The pair of you approached an elementary school building as the bell rang for break time. Children in twenty groups slammed through the double doors, racing round the side of the white ranch building and cutting over the grass to the playground.
“But going around everyone you know and saying your goodbyes? Heck, it makes it sound like you’re dying” Kitty argued, folding her arms. “It’s not like you’ll be out of Derry forever, right?”
Your eye twitched as you tried keeping your focus on the playground; watching children drawing hopscotch ladders with chalk, while others played jump rope.
“Hey, I think there’s a mark on you-”
Before Kitty could examine your neck, you readjusted your silk scarf, puffing it out so she could see as little as possible.
“Could’ve just said if you didn’t want me to look” Kitty huffed, slouching to one side.
The silence broke when she caught you scratching the sides of your head. You were shaking like a leaf, and your skin felt hot and cold at the same time.
“Seriously, you look like crap. What the hell’s going on?” Kitty said, stepping closer to you.
“It’s just, it’s just something…”
Mumbling to yourself, liquid trickled down your gums.
Kitty’s voice wavered as she gestured to your mouth.
“You’re bleeding ”
You instinctively slipped your finger inside your mouth, feeling along the front of your teeth and up to your gums. A small lump. As your fingers trailed further up your gums, a few tiny things wriggled around like worms, tickling against the tips of your nails.
Suppressing a whimper, you pulled your hand away, but Kitty recognized the repulsion on your face- and grabbed your wrist before you could cower back.
“I’m sorry, but that’s not normal” she said, grabbing your attention to the tips of your fingers.
Dark blood dripped down onto the pavement like old rain…
“Tell me what’s-”
Before she could finish, a shrill little voice called out from the playground, and one by one- four children ran up to the fence.
“Look what we got!”
Catching up with the group, Adam held up a crumpled piece of paper- or, that’s what you thought it was, at first.
“Erika made them. Isn’t it cool?” Adam said, waving it around like a lottery ticket.
Ingrid also had hers out, cradling it in the palm of her hands as she petted the top of it.
It was an origami turtle- shaped into a pentagon with tiny legs. Should have been a given, but in your defence, the head looked more like a swan.
As you thought about it, you thought about Maturin. The last time you spoke with that creature, or whatever he was- you never actually saw him. You just saw the stars.
Your stomach flipped painfully, and you wheezed, holding onto the fence before you could fall.
“What’s wrong?” Brandon said, trying to peer over the fence on his little tiptoes.
“I’m fine. I just…”
Suddenly your gut twisted to one side, and you dropped low to the floor- like a cat trying to cough up a hairball.
The kids shouted, running over to where you were as Kitty hoisted you up.
“She’ll be fine; she’s just…” Kitty grunted, straining as she lifted one of your arms over her shoulder. “She’s just feeling sick, is all”
Taking you back to the car, she plonked you on the passenger seat, and through the rearview mirror- realised that the four children had snuck in as well.
“Hey kids, what’re you doing?” Kitty snapped, flipping round to the back seats with a wild look on her face.
“We’re coming with you; we can help!” Erika said, shuffling Ingrid further into the middle.
“No, you can’t-” Kitty scolded, wagging her finger at them. “Now get out before you get into trouble”
You were dry retching all the while, covering your mouth with your hands, managing a few times to let out a burp or a gulp of air.
“She’s our friend” Adam pleaded, and he must have turned on the crocodile tears.
Kitty sighed, tapping her hands on the steering wheel as she deliberated something, until finally, she shook her head.
“Fine- but don’t blame me if your teachers give you a hiding”
She revved up the engine and set off, mindful not to go too fast with the children in the back.
Meanwhile, you were drifting in and out of consciousness all the way.
You wondered where she was taking you- as a faint melody of a nursery rhyme echoed in the back of your head, the tips of your eyelashes fading into total darkness:
“🎵 Oranges and lemons
Say the bells of St Clement’s… 🎵”.
///
You awoke on a small plush sofa.
A fluffy purple blanket covered you. The scent of fruit and cinnamon wafted over from the perfume bottles on the vanity. You were back in Kitty’s dressing room.
How you had been carried there, you didn’t know. Kitty was a strong woman, but you imagined she didn’t want to put much weight on her wooden leg. More than she could help, anyway.
Your legs had been tucked in the nook of the sofa, your heel rubbing along one of the plastic buttons. You were a bit more like yourself, a bit more rested.
Laughter reverberated from outside, and you swung your legs over, taking care to stand slowly. You knew you would get dizzy if you stood up too fast, and with things as they were, you weren’t going to take any risks.
You peered through the door; The Lighthouse Club was empty, save for the kids- even Antony was there, brushing shoulder to shoulder with Kitty, with such an intimacy that it couldn’t have been an accident.
Standing on the mahogany stage was Brandon, sliding out a fountain pen from his pocket.
You thought he might have pulled a rabbit out of a hat, but maybe, that would’ve been a bit much.
“Abracadabra, alakazam- make this pen float in my hand!”
With the back of his hand in view, he tucked the pen into his palm, and amazingly, when he stretched out his fingers- it appeared to levitate in mid-air.
“Bravo!” Kitty shouted, clapping, along with the rest of the group, and you found yourself clapping along with them, even though you were dazed from all the sleep you had.
Brandon took a dramatic bow, and when he spotted you in the audience, he practically leapt off the stage.
“You’re back! You’re back!”
All the kids followed suit- skidding off the chairs and racing towards you like you were their fairy godmother.
“Did you see my trick?”
“No one likes a show-off, Brandon…” Erika said, prodding him in the cheek.
You tried smiling the best you could, as you huddled into the warmth of your coat.
“How long was I out?”
“Long enough to miss the magic show” Kitty said as she leant on the piano. “Plus, your friend was showing us how light he is on his feet”
“You’re kidding!” you gasped, squeezing past the children as fast as you could. “Antony- you dark horse, I never knew you could dance!”
You lightly slapped him on the arm, and he blushed.
“Well, I-I’ve only just started taking lessons…”
“You should’ve seen him-” Kitty said in a sing-song voice. “Tapping his feet around like that. For a moment I thought he was Fred Astaire ”
Kitty winked, spinning around as she got a giggle out of the kids. And all the while poor Antony was as red as a beetroot.
“Sounds like I missed a good time” you said, gingerly stepping towards Kitty. “Sorry I caused you all this-”
“Zip it” Kitty said, making a pinching motion with her fingers. “Now clear out- the lot of you. Band’s gotta get ready for tonight, and kids aren’t allowed”
Brandon was the loudest to complain, which was a given, since he took to the stage like a duck to water.
“Ah, ah, ah, don’t give me any of that. Scram”
Antony tripped on a chair as he caught Kitty in time, speaking in a mumbled voice that you couldn’t quite hear. But he was fussing around with his tie ever so nervously.
You ushered the children away to give him some privacy, but you couldn’t help taking one look back as Kitty blew a kiss to Antony- which caused him to nearly double up on the chair he had already tripped over. You pretended not to notice; it was the least you could do for his dignity.
And without a doubt, he would’ve done the same for you.
///
“You’re really going away?” Adam said, peering up with puppy-dog eyes.
All of them were, in their own way. Like when parents told their kids that Santa couldn’t bring them any presents, or admitting that the Easter Bunny wasn’t real.
“It’ll only be for a little while” you said, bobbing down to them as best as you could. “Just until I get better. Then me and Antony will come and visit, okay?”
After signing back and forth with Erika, Ingrid leapt on you and gave you the first hug as the others joined in. Erika and Adam were shy, and they didn’t hug for as long, whereas it seemed Brandon and Ingrid wanted to be a permanent part of your shoulders, gripping onto you for as long as they could.
It was sweet, really.
They welcomed you into their lives like family, perhaps like a second mother, but you preferred the idea of being an older sister. Besides, you knew you couldn’t be their mother, no matter how much you wanted to coddle them, wrap them up, protect them in the days going ahead, so they would never have to be scared, never have to be hurt again. But it was not to be.
You took them home with Antony, trying to be strong as they went back to their respective houses, knowing full well you wouldn’t be seeing them for a while.
“I’ll start packing” you said, glancing back at Antony.
Only the two of you were left as you made your way towards the boarding house.
“Any thoughts about work?” Antony asked, scratching the side of his jaw.
“Let’s stick with it” you said, rubbing your hands together as an icy shiver ran through your body. “We’re lucky to have a job, Antony. Don’t do anything rash, okay?”
“Alright” Antony huffed, looking behind him as if somebody was watching. “But if it weren’t for this damn economy, we’d be-”
“Yep, I know. We’d be out” you said, finishing his sentence.
You gave him a hug before you went inside, and he called your name again.
As he hovered with a rosy smile on his face, his pupils dilated- as if he had seen one of the wonders of the world.
“Do you think…” Antony said, fumbling about with the heel of his boot. “Do you think I have a shot with her? Kitty, I mean?”
“If you keep dancing like Fred Astaire, maybe”
He turned away as you waved him off.
A part of you knew he was smiling.
Notes:
A/N: (Warning: character death in the next chapter)
Chapter 15: Sound From A Demise
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
Sound From A Demise
You were floating… Or at least- it seemed that way.
Observing your room from high- a figure rose out of bed. It was you.
How blank your expression was, eyes glowing orange, arms limp at the sides.
If you had ever gone through an out-of-body experience, that one was certainly like no other.
Your spirit floated along the ceiling while your body walked out the door- as if you were being pulled along by an invisible string.
Like a balloon.
Spirits seldom had a voice, but neither did your body. You could only watch yourself slumping down the stairs, half dead- dragging one foot in front of the other. No shoes, only a nightgown.
You had never been around the house so revealed before, and even when you woke up in the night, you had always tried to wrap yourself in a blanket or dressing gown before sneaking out for fresh air, or a glass of milk.
But your body, or whatever was piloting it, wasn’t bothered in the slightest. Didn’t care that the wooden steps were creaking like the wails and groans of a ship. Didn’t care that there were whispers coming from the other rooms.
The front door opened, squeaking on its hinges.
A familiar voice called out from the hallway, but you couldn’t look back. You floated above with no hands to move and no legs to kick, as your body walked in front, stepping onto the gravel with a scratch, scratch, scratch, like a snake rustling in the leaves.
You guessed you’d been walking through the streets for five minutes- when you noticed a long metal pole illuminated by the lamplight. Hooked onto it were signs pointing in different directions. ‘Market Street’ by South West, according to the sign, and the one above, marked in the same white bold lettering, read ‘Derry Station’, pointing East.
Frozen for a moment, your spirit slowly sucked itself back into your body, as Kitty chased after you from a distance.
Life surged through you again, but it wasn’t the same. Not the same you that you had always known.
“Where do you think you’re going dressed like that?!” Kitty gasped, catching her breath as air fogged around her. “You could freeze to death!”
You mumbled, looking up at the sign as your jaw clicked out of place.
“No… I think... I think I need to leave…”
“You need a straitjacket more like” Kitty huffed, stepping closer to you. “Come on, let’s get you back before anyone sees you”
You turned your head halfway, enough so she caught your eyes... Teary, vulnerable and… Glowing.
“There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there?” you said, your smile breaking.
But that was a question that didn’t need an answer.
You collapsed to the floor with an agonised yell.
“What’s wrong?! What’s happening?!”
As you clutched your neck, lumps pressed through the top layer of your skin until you could feel them pulsating down your chest, like a tidal wave.
“Stay… Stay back…”
Your jaw clicked again as the wriggling in your gums got worse and worse- and a sharp cutting sensation, as if it was splitting itself in two.
“If this is a joke, it isn’t funny” Kitty said, taking another step towards you.
“Just stay away!” you yelled with the last of your strength, as liquid oozed out of the blisters on your neck and stomach.
Hunger came back; frenzied, like you’d never get another meal again, so you had to grab what you could.
All the scents in the world were appealing to you; the nature, the animals, the fruit.
Flesh.
That word alone made warm drool seep out like syrup, and your mouth split open.
You kept your head low, perhaps out of dignity. You didn’t want Kitty to find you like that, even though your rationality was slipping away.
But you could sense her, as she made the grave mistake of crouching in front of you, cupping her hand to your face.
“Hey, we’ll get a doctor. Just, just stay with me, alright?”
But you couldn’t stay. The scent of her was overpowering.
A part of you wanted to push her back and run, run as far as you could. But her sweet-smelling soap, still lingering on her hair... The cream on her smooth skin... The fresh cucumbers she used on her eyes days earlier... Her sweat, her bodily fluids. All of it sent heat rushing through your body as drool continued to drip down onto the floor.
She was so…
“Can you hear me? Nod if you understand, alright?”
… Delectable.
You bit down on her hand, hard.
She screamed.
The first instinct was to pull away, but you had already saved her the job. You tore off three of her fingers.
As Kitty dropped to the floor with a hideous shriek, her right hand looked more like a crab claw, empty pockets of flesh in the middle and spurting blood.
You turned your attention back to the fingers in your mouth, and with the sharp needle-like teeth you had grown, you chomped down, gnashing through them like a meat grinder. The cracking and crunching sounds coming from your mouth were horrendous, but you were in pure ecstasy. Your whole body shivered from head to toe.
No sensation could come close to it. Not adrenaline, not sex, not swimming in an icy lake. You had never been so real before. You had always known you existed, but that- that was another thing entirely.
You gulped down the last fingernail and began licking the blood off the floor, lapping it up like a stray dog.
Sobbing came- not from you, but from Kitty.
Kitty. The name swung in your head like a pendulum, breaking you out of the euphoric daze. Your friend. Yes… Your friend… What were you doing?
She was cowering from you with such a look of terror and disgust that a part of you broke.
A dull pain stabbed through your chest, and soon, you were crying with her.
Kitty, someone who’d been there for you ever since you came to Derry. Someone you were drawn to. Her smile, her confidence. You had been so grateful to be a part of her life, that she accepted you, let you in.
And all of that shattered right before your eyes.
She tried kicking her legs away from you, grovelling back, but slipping every so often on the blood. The colour of her face was fading fast, and her stare was as wide as that of a child. A child who had never known death, but feared it all the same.
That childlike look of fear, as a pair of white gloves clamped tight around her head.
Orange hair rose behind her, then the face of Pennywise, lit up with such mischief, as if caught stealing an apple from the teacher’s desk.
His hands squeezed her head tighter, digging in at the temples, and Kitty was in a state of shock. She couldn’t even cry out anymore. She just looked at you with wide, childlike eyes- for the last time- as if to say:
‘I don’t want to die ’.
Ruthlessly, Pennywise snapped her neck, and she dropped lifelessly to the floor.
You weren’t sure if you screamed or not; your eyes were rimmed with so many tears that it was making it hard to see. Like you were underwater. Drowning.
Pennywise trailed across her body, stopping at her belly button, where, with a clawed hand, he tore through her stomach as folds of flesh flopped open.
As he yanked on a few of her intestines, her body convulsed. But it was only the motion of the clown's hand, ravaging its way into her stomach. She wasn’t actually moving at all. She was long since dead.
Grabbing another organ from inside her, he squeezed it slowly.
“Ohhh” Pennywise murmured, shuddering with delight. “She really is delectable, isn’t she?”
He pulled out a chunk of her liver, his glove; crimson red with blood.
“I can see why you like her. Or, well-” he tilted his head at you with an insane grin on his face. “Liked”
Wheezing back another sob, you scrambled to your feet, running down a street that repeated itself. 53, 55, 57. The same house numbers, over and over again.
“Don't leave in such a rush!” Pennywise called out, giggling as you ran in a loop over and over.
How was he doing that? Why was he…
“You liked it, didn’t you?”
“SHUT UP!” you shouted, panting as you quickly got out of breath.
You didn’t know how many cycles of the same street you had run, but the muscles in your thighs burned and your back was dripping with sweat.
“Aww, there’s nothing to be ashamed of…”
Pennywise reappeared out of thin air and yanked your wrist- pulling you back to him.
“Feed on her… Go on... I know you want to…”
You did everything you could to stop him from dragging you closer. Your feet scraped against the floor as you leant your weight back. You tried to kick him, but every time you did, the bells on his suit jingled as if they were laughing at you, mocking you.
“I see everything in that pretty little mind of yours…”
He grabbed your fist before you could lunge it at his face- as if he could sense what you were about to do. He was inhumanly strong, and held your arms wide in his grasp.
“How it felt when you held her life in your hands…” Pennywise chuckled darkly, leaning closer. “Even now, the hunger is coming back. You need her. You need to taste her again…”
“NO!” you yelled, struggling against his grip as you shook your head. “I never wanted that… I never…”
“Never? Never ever?” He whined, copying your voice as his lower lip wobbled. “Then I guess…”
He slammed you into a wooden fence, splinters digging into your back painfully.
“I’ll have to eat you instead! ”
Before you could spring up, he grabbed the back of your hair, yanking back as he pressed his body against you.
He shivered again, and you weren’t sure if it was from hunger- or a sick pleasure. Or both.
“Just a little… Taste…” he mumbled, his eyes trailing over you with such a violent lust that you didn’t know if he was going to kill you, or fuck you.
Your throat went dry, lips pursed open as if at any moment, you would let out a moan.
What the hell was happening?
Heat settled between your legs as you tried resisting the urge to press your hips into his, to get closer, to feel the bulge in his pants grinding against you and-
Oh God, you were actually turned on.
And the worst part was- he knew it too.
Taking a deep breath, Pennywise inhaled your scent, his drool dripping down the front of your chest, slipping down your nightgown and wetting the curves of your breasts as he whispered to himself.
“Mine… Mine… Mine…”
His mouth extended into rows of sharp fangs, taking his time to lean in, ever so slowly, until his teeth nipped the front of your throat.
You shut your eyes.
Notes:
A/N: Death rarely comes for those who deserve it :(
Chapter 16: To Be Human
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
To Be Human
A horn blew in the distance, booming out like a call to arms.
The scent of spring grass wafted up to your face as you opened your eyes. You were no longer in your time. Pennywise was not there.
You didn’t know how much more you could take.
A surge of emotions burst through all at once, as if you had been stung by a thousand nettles and were only beginning to feel pain.
Wheezing, you scrambled to check what godforsaken place you found yourself in.
You were apparently on top of a hill, overlooking the blue sea, as a longboat bobbed on the waves by the shore. Squinting, you couldn’t make out what was carved on the front and back of the ship, but they were long, serpent-like. The sail flapped about in the breeze, and the symbols were unrecognizable, but they matched the silver brooches on your clothes and woolen wraps, fastened around your legs.
Sneering, you turned your head to the stars.
“I know you’re there…” you pointed shakily. “So tell me, right now. Tell me what just happened, because I can’t…”
Your voice broke into a blubbering mess as you covered your mouth. But the response you had was not the one you wanted.
“There is no time-” Maturin said, his voice as soothing as always. “You must leave Derry before-”
“JUST TELL ME WHY!” you roared, digging your nails into your scalp. “Kitty… Oh… Oh, Kitty…”
You sank to the grass, the salt from your tears pooling onto your tongue, bitter, and suffocating.
The happy moments at The Lighthouse- when you were finally part of a group, when you finally found a place to belong.
Kitty. Such a kind soul. One of the few people in the boarding house who looked out for you. She said she would introduce you to her friends.
Not anymore.
What would they think when they discovered she was dead? What about her family? Her lovers? They would be crushed, knowing she had been attacked by someone she trusted. That she was killed by an entity she had no comprehension even existed.
All the horrid visions were coming back. Your violence against Kitty, the moments before her murder, even the desecration of her corpse. She didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve to die.
It didn’t seem real; like a ghoulish theatre performance, where you were acting for everyone else’s amusement.
“You mustn’t blame yourself. It is not your fault ”
“Don’t you dare, don’t you fucking dare tell me that!” You screamed, switching to hysterical laughter the next minute, as if you were going mad. “You saw what I did to her. I... I’m a monster…”
Maturin stayed silent as you wept, and then spoke again.
“No. But you are not human. Not entirely ”
“What?”
The tips of your fingers went numb, as if his words had plunged you into an icy pit.
“I will tell you what I know; however, there are some things you may not understand…”
As Maturin finished speaking, the stars grew brighter, flooding the sky in a dazzling white light, until that was all you could see.
What he showed you next could have been described as a fragmented dream… Or a nightmare.
“Long before humans existed; a star fell to Earth- harboring a dangerous lifeform inside…”
As Maturin’s voice guided you along, every part of the tale was weaving itself in front of you like pictures from a storybook, as a meteor crashed into the rocky ground in smoke and fire.
“This lifeform wandered aimlessly, until, with no food, and trapped by the confines of its resting place, it fell into a deep slumber…”
The sharp, jagged crater that had formed slowly retreated into itself, like a flower, curling back into a bud once more.
It had similar markings to a snowflake- with all its intricate patterns weaving through, and symbols that could never be deciphered by the human eye.
“... Until years later… It was disturbed from hibernation…”
Through hazy visions, a figure stepped down into the rocky cavern, barefoot, and the cloth wrapped around her dress was as plain and brown as an oak tree. Her eyes were cloudy, and as her hands felt their way around the cracks of her surroundings, you realised something with a heavy certainty.
She was blind.
“From a distant land, an oracle came, foreseeing the creature would one day bring suffering into her world ”
Maturin’s voice trailed off, and there, a dagger was shown in the blind woman’s hand.
Shakily, she raised it, and with a hard slam, she stabbed the mount of the crater, cracking it like a boiled egg.
She tugged frantically, trying to get the dagger out, but an explosion of light sent her flying through the air, landing a few feet away.
Her head smacked against a rock, leaving her unconscious, one arm bent unnaturally.
“Her attempt to destroy IT failed-” Maturin said, his voice picking up again. “But she did not die. The creature had not learned how to hunt…”
In awe, you watched as glowing orbs rose from the cracks, spinning around each other with no comprehensible form, no shape to take hold of, not yet anyway.
Most of it stayed around the crater, hovering there as if it didn’t know what to do with itself, but tiny particles spread out, flickering like fireflies towards the unconscious woman; drawing close to her warm, open mouth.
Right before she awoke, they disappeared into the caverns of her throat- burrowing deep inside her.
“Her actions, however-” Maturin said, his voice lowering an octave “Had not only brought more harm to humanity, but to herself… And to you, as well ”
You traced the bottom corner of your lip, going into shock.
“She gave birth to you some time later- and from her womb, had infected you with something unfathomable ”
“No” you said, shielding yourself away as if you had been smacked in the face. “That- that’s not my mother… My mother is-”
“You’ve had many families across time” Maturin explained, guiding you through one image to the next. “Your experiences of the past are not hallucinations- rather, they are memories of your former lives… When you have died… And when you have been reborn…”
Some you had already seen; from the working class of the Regency and the Shokopiwah tribe, each with few memories of what occurred before. Except for one certain thing that connected them all.
Pennywise.
He was always there, in one form or another- in the parts that were shown to you. The glowing eyes, the monstrous forms- and the most disturbing- the times when he took human guises to lure you in. A friend in one, a lover in the next, all of them with the same goal in mind. To claim you.
And with each life- you understood his influence was growing, bit by bit- leaving you weaker. Vulnerable to corruption.
Once the beast in you was out, it would be too late. You would be his. And his alone.
“... So what am I?”
Staring emptily into the sea, you had the urge to let yourself fall in and sink deep down to the bottom, never to come back.
“You are a hybrid; a being created from a powerful energy source. Some call it The Deadlights ”
You clutched your chest, your brain throbbing at the sides of your skull. All that information should’ve given you an aneurysm.
“However, unlike Pennywise, a part of you is human- given the nature of your birth mother ”
The visions had stopped… Perhaps you would’ve thought you were staring out to sea in a distant place. But you were back. Back where the longship was. Back on top of the hill. The jumps across time were disorientating.
“Once you leave Derry, The Deadlights inside you will be inactive once again, and you will return to your normal self… But the human part of you is fading. There is no telling what might happen, should you choose to remain…”
You drew a sharp breath, grass crunching under your feet as you stepped back.
“I’m sorry I did not tell you this earlier- but you wouldn’t have believed me ”
The stars flickered gently, as if they were trying to reach out to you from the furthest depths of the universe.
“Just know that whatever you do, whatever you choose, I will be here. I will be with you. You are not alone…”.
///
You jolted up, realising you were in a bathtub, your hand gripping the slippery bar of soap as if you were unconsciously trying to wash yourself.
It clearly hadn’t worked. There were bloodstains on your nightgown, dried up and crusted.
You peeled your back off the dent in the tub. The plug was in, but no water was running. Only a ‘drip, drip, drip’ from the copper tap.
It was your time. You were back, for the meanwhile, at least. But you knew what you had to do. You couldn’t stay.
You tried pulling yourself up with your arms, but your legs were like jelly- you wouldn’t be standing for a couple of minutes, at least.
Pushing yourself over the side of the tub, you reeled back when you spotted, over the shiny floor tiles, a sick poem- written in blood:
‘You can try to fight
You can scream and cry
But try to leave Derry
And your friends will
DIE ’.
Notes:
A/N: The truth is revealed- but at what cost?
Pages Navigation
starlingjuni on Chapter 2 Tue 02 Dec 2025 09:47PM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 2 Wed 03 Dec 2025 04:27AM UTC
Comment Actions
SolKuma on Chapter 2 Sun 07 Dec 2025 12:15PM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 2 Mon 08 Dec 2025 02:47AM UTC
Comment Actions
SolKuma on Chapter 4 Sun 07 Dec 2025 12:28PM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 4 Mon 08 Dec 2025 02:50AM UTC
Comment Actions
starlingjuni on Chapter 5 Fri 05 Dec 2025 03:31AM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 5 Fri 05 Dec 2025 04:09AM UTC
Comment Actions
Akuma3445 on Chapter 5 Fri 05 Dec 2025 09:39AM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 5 Fri 05 Dec 2025 10:42PM UTC
Comment Actions
SolKuma on Chapter 5 Sun 07 Dec 2025 12:41PM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 5 Mon 08 Dec 2025 02:48AM UTC
Comment Actions
Akuma3445 on Chapter 6 Sun 07 Dec 2025 10:32AM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 6 Mon 08 Dec 2025 02:51AM UTC
Comment Actions
HaterOfHarem on Chapter 6 Tue 16 Dec 2025 12:43AM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 6 Tue 16 Dec 2025 05:51AM UTC
Comment Actions
Goop_Loop154 on Chapter 7 Sun 07 Dec 2025 11:46AM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 7 Mon 08 Dec 2025 02:53AM UTC
Comment Actions
Akuma3445 on Chapter 7 Sun 07 Dec 2025 11:47AM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 7 Mon 08 Dec 2025 02:55AM UTC
Comment Actions
Akuma3445 on Chapter 8 Mon 08 Dec 2025 07:54AM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 8 Tue 09 Dec 2025 07:15AM UTC
Comment Actions
f4ding0rchid on Chapter 8 Mon 08 Dec 2025 04:52PM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 8 Tue 09 Dec 2025 07:17AM UTC
Comment Actions
HaterOfHarem on Chapter 8 Tue 16 Dec 2025 12:48AM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 8 Tue 16 Dec 2025 05:53AM UTC
Comment Actions
Akuma3445 on Chapter 9 Tue 09 Dec 2025 08:13AM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 9 Tue 09 Dec 2025 10:53AM UTC
Comment Actions
SolKuma on Chapter 9 Tue 09 Dec 2025 10:20AM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 9 Tue 09 Dec 2025 10:52AM UTC
Comment Actions
Bai_Wuxiangs_mask on Chapter 9 Sun 14 Dec 2025 02:05PM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 9 Mon 15 Dec 2025 09:31AM UTC
Comment Actions
BeanZ96 on Chapter 9 Mon 15 Dec 2025 12:01AM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 9 Mon 15 Dec 2025 09:29AM UTC
Comment Actions
Akuma3445 on Chapter 10 Wed 10 Dec 2025 08:02AM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 10 Thu 11 Dec 2025 02:26AM UTC
Comment Actions
Akuma3445 on Chapter 10 Thu 11 Dec 2025 09:37AM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 10 Fri 12 Dec 2025 02:07AM UTC
Comment Actions
YourDeepestDarkestHeadcanons on Chapter 10 Thu 11 Dec 2025 02:05AM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 10 Thu 11 Dec 2025 02:30AM UTC
Comment Actions
GarnetTheFox on Chapter 10 Fri 12 Dec 2025 11:33PM UTC
Comment Actions
DeadKopski on Chapter 10 Sat 13 Dec 2025 02:06AM UTC
Comment Actions
Pages Navigation