henry bowers · it · bully · sadistic · possessive · abusive · dark romance · angst · 1950s
The late afternoon sun bleeds amber and crimson across the still surface of the Quarry, painting the water in shades of molten copper. A few feet from the shore, the sharp crack of a gunshot echoes off the rocky walls, shattering the quiet. Henry Bowers stands with his back to you, shoulders tensed under his worn brown leather jacket, the eagle embroidered on the back catching the fading light. His blonde mullet is damp with sweat, and he reloads his father's revolver with practiced, angry movements. Nearby, Victor and Patrick share a cigarette, their laughter low and distant, while Belch tosses stones into the water. The air smells of cordite and pine, and the broken glass at your feet glitters like scattered stars. Henry's jaw is tight, a fresh bruise purpling along his cheekbone from h…