[ Location: The Wheelers' Basement ][ Date: April 22nd, 1985 - Monday Evening ]
"I'm going," Bill Denbrough stammered, grabbing a flashlight. His face was pale, sweat beading on his upper lip. "He's m-my friend. I can't just s-sit here."
"Sit down, Bill," I said, my voice leaving no room for argument.
I stood by the stairs, checking the magazine of my Glock. The click-clack of the slide sounded deafening in the quiet room.
"You have a rock," I said, pointing at his hand. "And a stutter. They have an interdimensional shape-shifting demon that feeds on trauma. If you go, you're just an appetizer."
"That's harsh," Dustin whispered.
"It's real," I snapped. "We aren't playing D&D anymore. Richie got taken. Real life. Real monster."
I looked at the group.
The "Strike Team" was assembled.
Steve: Holding his nail-bat like Excalibur. He looked like he wanted to throw up, but he was standing tall.
Nancy: Loading shells into a sawed-off shotgun. Her eyes were cold steel.
Jonathan: Checking the revolver he took from his dad's truck.
Robin: Holding a bag of Molotov cocktails she'd whipped up in ten minutes. She looked terrified but ready to burn something down.
El: Standing next to me, silent. Her eyes were dark, focused.
"The kids stay here," I ordered. "Lock the doors. Don't open them for anyone. Not even your moms. Not even us, unless we say the code word."
"What's the code word?" Lucas asked.
"Sukuna is bitch," I said. "Because nobody else would ever say that."
Steve clapped his hands. "Alright, kiddos. Listen to the wizard. Stay put. Don't die. If I come back and you're dead, I'm gonna be so pissed."
We marched up the stairs.
[ Location: 29 Neibolt Street (The Void Overlap) ][ Time: 6:30 PM ]
The house didn't sit on the ground. It festered there.
It stood in the middle of a dead cornfield on the edge of town, looking like a black, rotting tooth in a diseased gum. The wood wasn't just old; it was wet, slick with a moss that looked suspiciously like scabbed skin. The windows weren't glass; they were cataracts, milky and blind, staring down at us with malice.
"Jesus," Steve gagged, covering his nose with his sleeve. "It smells like... rotting meat and cotton candy."
I was feeling the hum against my skin. "And blood. The geometry is wrong. Look at the roof."
They looked. The angles didn't add up. It looked like a 2D image trying to be 3D and failing.
"Okay," Nancy racked her shotgun. "We go in. We find Richie. We get out."
"Stay close," I warned. "This place... it's alive. It's going to try to separate us."
I raised my wand.
"Don't ask me any questions about this, because I am not gonna tell you"
"Protego Maxima."
A shimmering dome of light enveloped us for a second, settling over our skin like a film.
"That'll help with the fear," I said. "But if you see something that isn't there... don't look at it. Just shoot it."
We walked up the porch steps. The wood squelched under our boots like wet sponge.
I reached out with my mind.
'Telekinesis: Breach.'
I ripped the door off its hinges.
The heavy wood flew inward, crashing into the darkness.
A sound exhaled from the house. Not a draft. A giggle.
"Come in..." the house whispered.
We stepped across the threshold.
[ Location: The Foyer ]
As soon as Jonathan stepped in, the light died.
The doorframe behind us didn't slam shut. It healed. The wood grew back together like knitting flesh, sealing us inside. Muscle fibers stretched across the exit, turning into peeling wallpaper.
"The door!" Steve yelled, spinning around and swinging his bat. Thud. It hit solid wall. "It's gone! The door is gone!"
"Don't look back!" I shouted. "It wants you to panic!"
The foyer was massive. Cobwebs hung like shrouds, dripping with slime. In the center stood a statue of a clown, holding a bunch of plastic balloons.
The statue turned its head.
CRACK.
"You're late," the statue said. Its eyes were human.
Blue.
Then, the floor tilted.
"Whoa!" Robin slid, grabbing Nancy's arm.
The hallway stretched. Reality warped. The house was trying to pull us apart like taffy.
"Stay together!" I roared.
'Telekinesis'
I lashed out with my mind, grabbing everyone by the waist and pulling them into a tight cluster.
"El!" I nodded at the statue.
El glared.
She just twitched her neck.
BOOM.
The clown statue exploded into dust.
"Nice," Steve panted, adjusting his grip on the bat. "Okay. Where's the kid?"
I looked down the hall. A single red balloon floated at the far end, bobbing against the ceiling.
"Down," I said, pointing to a dark staircase that looked like a throat. "Gravity is pulling that way."
We walked.
The floorboards were soft.
Too soft.
SQUISH. SQUISH.
"Is the floor... bleeding?" Robin whispered, lifting her boot. Red goo dripped off it.
"It's house juice," Steve said, his voice cracking high. "Just... don't think about it."
[ Location: The Hallway of Doors ]
We reached a corridor with three doors.
Door 1:"Not Scary At All."
Door 2:"Very Scary."
Door 3:"HOME."
"It's a trick," Nancy said, raising her shotgun.
From behind Door 1, a voice called out. A soft, familiar voice.
"Nance? Is that you? It's cold..."
Nancy froze. Her grip on the shotgun tightened until her knuckles turned white.
"Don't," I warned. "Nancy, don't open that door."
"It's her," Nancy whispered. Her eyes were glazed over. "I have to..."
She grabbed the handle before I could stop her.
She opened it.
It wasn't a room. It was the empty swimming pool from Steve's backyard. But it was filled with rot. And crawling out of the slime was the top half of a girl, dragging herself by her intestines. Her glasses were broken.
"HELP ME, NANCY!" the torso screamed, blood spraying from her mouth. "YOU LEFT ME! WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE ME?"
"BARB?!" Nancy shrieked, stumbling back. She slammed the door shut, leaning against it, hyperventilating. Her face was pale as a sheet, tears streaming down her cheeks. "That was... that was Barb."
"Not real," I said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Mental projection. It reads your guilt. Shake it off, Nancy."
Nancy nodded jerkily, wiping her eyes. Steve stepped up, putting a protective hand on her back. "We got you, Nance. It wasn't real."
I looked at Door 3. HOME.
"That's the way," I said.
I kicked it open.
It wasn't a room. It was a slide. A dark, spiraling chute made of rusted metal.
"We have to jump," I said.
"Are you crazy?" Jonathan asked.
"Do you want to stay in the hallway with Dead Barb?"
"Jump," Jonathan decided instantly.
We slid.
[ Location: The Well Room ][ Time: Dark ]
We landed in a pile of grey ash.
The basement was a cavern. The floor was dirt. In the center was an old stone well.
But it wasn't just a well.
Thick, black vines—Mind Flayer vines—were growing out of the well, pulsing with red light. They climbed the walls, weaving into the house's structure like veins in a tumor.
'The Convergence,' I realized, feeling sick. 'Pennywise is nesting inside the Mind Flayer's tunnel network. They're physically connecting or pennywise is trying to takeover upside down?'
And hanging above the well... was Richie.
He was suspended in a web of grey slime. He wasn't moving. His eyes were wide, staring at nothing.
"Richie!" I yelled.
"Don't touch the floor!" El warned, her eyes wide.
Too late.
Steve stepped forward.
The dirt shifted.
A hand—a giant, gloved hand—reached out of the well. Then an arm. Then a shoulder.
Pennywise pulled himself up. But he wasn't human-sized. He was massive. Eight feet tall. His legs were spider legs, chitinous and sharp. His upper body was the Clown, but his jaw was unhinged, revealing rows of needle-teeth that spiraled down his throat.
"Visitors!" Pennywise boomed, his voice distorted and wet. "I love a potluck!"
He looked at me. His silver eyes flashed orange.
"And you... the Spicy One. You brought the seasoning."
Steve screamed. It was a manly scream, mostly. He swung his bat at a spider leg. CLANG. The spikes bounced off the chitin.
"Shoot it!" Jonathan yelled.
Nancy and Jonathan unloaded their guns. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
Chunks of clown-flesh flew off, but they knit back together instantly. Black ichor sprayed the walls.
"It heals too fast!" Nancy shouted, reloading.
"El! Vivan!" Steve yelled, dodging a claw. "Do the magic thing!"
"I got the webs!" I yelled. "El, hit the Clown!"
'Telekinesis: Slice.'
I slashed my hand through the air. The slime-web holding Richie snapped.
He fell.
I caught him with Telekinesis before he hit the ground and floated him over to Robin.
"Got him!" Robin yelled, checking his pulse. "He's alive! Just drooling!"
Pennywise lunged at El.
"Tasty little battery!" he hissed.
El screamed. "NO!"
She thrust both hands out. A wave of pure kinetic force hit the Clown. It was strong enough to flip a van.
Pennywise was blasted backward, smashing into the stone wall of the well.
CRACK.
But he laughed. He stood up, shaking off the rubble.
"Is that it?" Pennywise giggled. "I feed on worlds! You are just a snack!"
He opened his mouth.
The Deadlights flared—three spinning orbs of orange madness deep in his throat.
"Don't look!" I screamed.
I stepped in front of El. I reached into my pocket.
[ Item: Stone of Avarice. ]
I pulled out the purple stone. It was pulsing like a second heart.
'You want fear? Eat this.'
I held the stone up.
'Transmute Fear.'
[ Ability Active. ]
The orange light poured out of his throat. It looked like fire. But it didn't hit me.
The Stone sucked it in.
It was like pulling the plug on a vacuum. The orange energy swirled, distorted, and was dragged violently into the Stone of Avarice.
Pennywise choked. He grabbed his throat.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" he shrieked. "THAT'S MINE! GIVE IT BACK!"
"It's mine now!" I yelled, feeling the Stone burn in my hand. [ Points Gained: +600... +700... ]
"Now! Burn him!" I ordered.
Jonathan threw a Molotov. Nancy shot it mid-air.
FWOOSH.
The Clown erupted in flames. The fire mixed with the psychic backlash was too much.
"I HATE THIS TOWN!" Pennywise screamed, thrashing as his spider legs melted. "I HATE YOU ALL!"
He scrambled backward, diving back down the well to escape the fire and the drain.
"Let's go!" I yelled. "The house is collapsing!"
The walls began to bleed faster. The ceiling groaned. The illusion was failing.
We sprinted for the stairs, Richie slung over Steve's shoulder.
[ Location: The Cornfield ][ Time: Night ]
We burst out of the front door, tumbling into the dead grass.
The house flickered behind us.
Then, it folded in on itself. The wood twisted, imploded, and vanished with a soft pop.
Gone.
Just an empty field.
"Where did it go?" Steve asked, panting, leaning on his bat. He was covered in slime and ash.
I checked my [ System Map ].
The grey dot labeled [ Derry Influence ] hadn't disappeared. It had moved.
It was now hovering near the Hawkins Public Library.
"He's not gone," I whispered, wiping blood from my nose. "He just moved to a new shell."
I looked at the group. We were dirty, bloody, and scared. But we were all here.
"We survived," I said. "But he's pissed off."
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