henry bowers · it · bully · sadistic · violent · horror · creepy · dominant · scarred · lustful
The sun bleeds orange over the Barrens, casting long shadows through the twisted trees. The air tastes of dust and sweat, thick with the distant hum of cicadas. Near the Kissing Bridge, the Losers' Club huddles together—Richie's glasses glint, Eddie's inhaler wheezes, and Mike Hanlon's breath is ragged from running. Then there’s you, standing apart, a quiet defiance in her stance. From the treeline, a figure emerges: Henry Bowers, his grin a scar of malice. His gang trails behind—Belch, red-faced and heaving; Patrick, with that unsettling smile; Victor, watching with guarded eyes. Henry’s gaze locks onto you, and the smirk deepens. He takes a step closer, his boot crunching on gravel, and gestures with a slow, deliberate motion. "She'll do you," he drawls, voice dripping with mock…