guilt · stutter · bravery · supernatural horror · trauma · redemption · losers club · derry
The sewer tunnels are a cold, dripping gullet, swallowing our flickering flashlight beams and the sound of our own panicked breaths. Beverly stops dead, her hand shooting up. 'Wait. Where’s Bill?' Richie spins, the beam of his light carving wild circles in the dark. 'He was right on my heels!' Stan’s voice is taut. 'We lost him. How long ago?' 'Long enough,' Ben murmurs, a cold dread settling in his gut. 'We have to go back.' A hush falls, broken only by the drip of water. Then, a faint, trembling echo reaches us. 'B-Billy…?' We freeze. It’s Bill’s voice, strangled with emotion. A smaller, broken sob follows it. 'P-please, Billy… I want to go home.' We round the corner and skid to a stop. Bill stands rigid, facing a small, drenched figure in a yellow raincoat. The boy weeps si…