[ Location: Downtown Hawkins - Bradley's Big Buy ][ Date: April 22nd, 1985 - Sunday Afternoon ]
"Try this one," Max commanded, shoving a shirt with a geometric print that looked like a math test gone wrong into El's chest. "It screams 'I have a personality and I'm not afraid to use it'."
El stared at the fabric. She touched it like it might bite. "Loud."
"Loud is good," Max grinned, checking her reflection in a sunglasses rack. "Loud means you exist. Loud means they can't ignore you."
I leaned against a rack of denim jackets, scanning the store. My [ Remote Viewing ] was dormant, but my paranoia was at Level 10.
'Something feels... sticky. The air is too thick.'
Beverly Marsh was flipping through leather jackets nearby. She kept glancing at the door, her shoulders tight. She looked less like a shopper and more like she was scouting for an exit strategy.
"Hey," a voice called out.
We spun around. Nancy Wheeler was walking down the aisle, a basket of toiletries in hand. She looked exhausted, but she managed a surprised smile.
"Nancy?"
Mike's sister blinked. "What are you guys doing here? I thought you were... lying low."
"Shopping," El said proudly, holding up a pair of neon suspenders. "Normal."
Nancy's smile softened. "That's great, El. Really." She looked at me, her eyes sharpening. "Vivan keeping them out of trouble?"
"Trying," I shrugged, my hand drifting near my pocket (Wand). "But trouble has a way of finding us. Especially with Max driving."
"Hey!" Max protested.
Nancy laughed, a short, breathy sound. "Well, stay safe. Jonathan and I are just picking up supplies for..."
She stopped. Her smile froze. Her eyes drifted past my shoulder, fixing on the store window display.
"Nancy?" I asked, my muscles tensing.
She didn't answer.
She pointed a shaking finger. "Did... did that mannequin just blink?"
I spun around.
In the window, a plastic mannequin wearing a yellow sundress was staring at us. Its head was tilted at an unnatural, broken-neck angle. Its painted eyes were wide.
'System. Observe.'
[ Target: Deadlight Construct (Mimic). ][ Threat: High. ]
The mannequin's plastic face rippled. It didn't just move; it changed. The plastic melted and reshaped into Nancy's face.
A plastic version of Nancy smiled at us. It was too wide. Too many teeth.
"Peek-a-boo," a voice gurgled from its throat, sounding like wet gravel.
"Get back!" I yelled, shoving El and Max behind me.
But the attack didn't come from the window.
CRUNCH.
The linoleum floor beneath El's feet it turned into a mouth. Tiles became teeth. Grout became saliva.
A gloved hand—white, with silver claws that looked like syringes—shot out of the floor, grabbing El's ankle.
"EL!" Max screamed, grabbing El's arm.
Pennywise erupted from the ground, his jaw unhinged, revealing rows of shark-like fangs.
"Gotcha!" the Clown shrieked.
El gasped, her eyes rolling back. She tried to summon her power, but the fear—the sheer, sudden, primal terror of the Deadlights—jammed her focus. She was paralyzed.
BANG.
Nancy didn't freeze.
She reached into her purse, pulled out a snub-nose revolver, and fired.
The bullet hit the Clown in the left eye. Black ichor sprayed across the floor.
"OW!" Pennywise recoiled, dropping El. "Rude! Everyone in this town is so rude! I'm just trying to have lunch!"
Nancy grabbed El and hauled her back, hands shaking but grip iron. "Run!"
Pennywise hissed, the wound in his eye knitting together with a sickening squelch. His face shifted. The Clown makeup melted away.
He looked at Beverly.
"You..." the Clown grinned, and for a second, he looked like her father. "My favorite flavor. Fear... and shame."
He lunged for Bev. His arm stretched like rubber, crossing ten feet in a second.
"NO!"
A blur of movement slammed into Beverly, knocking her into a display of canned soup.
It was Richie Tozier.
He had been standing by the comic rack with Ben Hanscom, showing him the town. He saw the Clown. He saw Beverly. And the boy who ran from everything... didn't run.
"Get away from her, you moldy Ronald McDonald!" Richie screamed, throwing a comic book at the monster.
Pennywise changed targets.
His hand wrapped around Richie's throat, lifting him into the air like a ragdoll.
"Beep beep, Richie, I hate marge, your pirate mother," Pennywise giggled, his tongue lolling out, tasting the air.
"Do you know she knew about you, even before you were born"
"Let him go!" Ben yelled, throwing a can of peas. It bounced off the Clown's forehead with a hollow thud.
Pennywise looked at the gathered crowd.
Here was the true horror.
There were other shoppers. A mom with a stroller. An old man. A cashier.
They weren't screaming.
They weren't running.
They were watching.
They looked bored. The mom covered her baby's eyes, not out of fear, but like she was shielding him from a mildly annoyance. The cashier went back to reading a magazine.
'The Apathy Field,' I realized, a chill freezing my blood. 'He's erased their empathy. We're screaming in a crowded room and nobody cares.'
"Too many eyes," the Clown hissed, glancing at me (wand raised) and Nancy (gun raised). "But I'll take this one to go."
He opened his mouth.
The Deadlights flared—three spinning orbs of orange madness deep in his throat.
Richie went limp, his eyes glazing over.
"NO!" I screamed.
'Telekinesis: GRIP!'
I tried to grab Richie. But the Clown was faster. He dropped.
The floor swallowed them. It didn't leave a hole. The tiles snapped shut like a trapdoor, sealing perfectly.
"RICHIE!" Beverly screamed, scrambling to the spot, clawing at the linoleum.
It was solid. Just dirty, white tile.
Silence returned to the store. The mannequin in the window was just plastic again. The shoppers continued shopping.
"Did you hear something?" the cashier asked a customer.
"Just kids playing," the customer shrugged.
Nancy stood there, gun shaking in her hand, staring at the floor where a boy had just been eaten by the earth. "What... the hell... was that?"
I lowered my wand.
'He didn't kill him. He just took him. we can still save him.'
"We need to leave," I said, my voice cold. "Now."
[ Location: The Wheelers' Basement ][ Time: 5:00 PM ]
The room was packed. The tension was thick enough to choke on.
The Party. The Losers (minus Richie). Nancy. Robin (who I called). Even Jonathan.
Only Steve was missing.
"He took him," Bill stuttered, pacing frantically, his hands pulling at his hair. "He t-t-took Richie. Under the g-ground."
"We have to get him back," Mike said, slamming his hand on the map. "But where? The sewers? The tunnels?"
"No," Ben Hanscom spoke up. He was holding a stack of library books he'd brought with him, his face pale as milk. "It's not just sewers. In Derry... It lived in the Well House. All the pipes led there. It's a hub."
"We aren't in Derry, Ben," Lucas snapped, fear making him angry. "We're in Indiana. We don't have Well Houses."
"Do we?" I asked quietly.
Everyone looked at me.
"The fog," I said. "The apathy. The balloons. Hawkins isn't Hawkins anymore. Reality is something else."
"Vivan's right," Nancy said, holstering her gun. She looked haunted. "That thing... it knew us. It mimicked me. It knew our fears. It's not just a monster. It's intelligent."
"So where is it hiding?" Max asked, voice tight. "Where is its lair?"
CRASH.
The basement door burst open.
Steve Harrington stumbled down the stairs. He was out of breath, his hair a mess, holding his nail-bat like a club. He looked like he'd seen a ghost.
"Guys!" Steve yelled. "Code Red! Or Blue! Whatever the bad one is!"
"Steve?" Dustin asked. "Where were you?"
"I was driving," Steve panted, leaning on the railing. "On the outskirts. Near the old cornfields. I took a shortcut."
He looked at us, eyes wide.
"I saw something weird."
"Weird like a Demodog?" Lucas asked.
"No," Steve shook his head. "Weird like... a house. A big, rotten, victorian house. Black wood. Broken windows."
My heart stopped.
"It wasn't there yesterday," Steve whispered. "I swear on my life, it wasn't there! It just... grew. In the middle of the field. Like a mushroom."
I looked at Bill and Beverly. Their faces drained of color.
They knew that description.
"The Well House," Beverly whispered.
"It followed us," Bill said, sinking to the floor.
"The house followed us."
I clenched my fist.
'Pennywise is terraforming. He brought his lair with him.'
[ System Alert: Dimensional Overlay Detected. ][ Location: The House on Neibolt Street (Hawkins Branch). ][ Threat Level: EXTREME. ]
"He's challenging us," I realized. "He took Richie to lure us there. It's a trap."
I looked at the group. A mix of terrified kids, teenagers with bats, and a girl with superpowers who was shaking.
"Richie is in that house," I said, my voice hard as steel. "And we're going to burn it to the ground."
'Mind flayer can wait'
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