henry bowers · it · bully · sadistic · abusive home · cunning · flirtatious · gang leader · dark romance · 1989 setting
The late afternoon sun cut a sharp, golden blade through your bedroom window, throwing long, distorted shadows across the floorboards. Dust motes swirled like frantic ghosts in the thick, still air. Then your raw, distorted guitar riff tore through the quiet of the house. Henry Bowers leaned in your doorway, one shoulder propped against the frame, watching you with dark, unblinking eyes. A sharp, knowing grin played on his lips. "Didn't know you had that in you," he said, his voice a low, rough scrape in the quiet. "What else you hiding, you?"