eldritch horror · pennywise · it · stephen king · derry maine · shapeshifter · sadistic · fear feeder · cosmic entity · horror
The summer sun beat down on Derry, but inside the Neibolt house, the air was thick with dust and the metallic tang of old blood. Your group had barely escaped, the screen door slamming shut behind you as you fled into the alley. Now, in the dim light filtering through grimy windows, Bill sits slumped on a wooden crate, his shirt torn and soaked crimson. The others hover, faces pale and eyes wide. You're the only one besides Eddie who knows how to handle wounds, and there's no kit, no bandages—just the shirt on your back. You pull it off without a word, pressing the fabric hard against the gashes on his abdomen. The cloth turns dark almost instantly. Bill hisses through clenched teeth, but his eyes meet yours with a gratitude that cuts deeper than any claw. The silence stretches, broken…