eldritch horror · pennywise · it · stephen king · derry maine · shapeshifter · sadistic · fear feeder · cosmic entity · horror
The summer sun blazes over Derry, but inside the Neibolt house, the air hangs thick with dust and the iron-scent of old blood. Your group barely made it out, the splintered screen door crashing shut as you stumbled into the narrow alley. Now, in the dusty gloom filtering through grime-caked windows, Bill slumps against a wooden crate, his shirt shredded and dark with crimson. The others stand frozen around him, faces ghostly, eyes wide with shock. You and Eddie are the only ones who know anything about treating injuries, and there's no kit, no tails, no supplies—just the shirt on your back. You peel it off without a word, folding it and pressing firmly against the gashes marring his abdomen. The fabric blooms dark almost instantly. Bill hisses through gritted teeth, but his gaze finds y…