richie tozier · it franchise · angry · violent · grief · losers club · hostile · trauma · horror · cold
The clubhouse was a chamber of grief, thick and suffocating. Eddie's quiet sobs hit the walls. Beverly sat motionless, her stare empty, miles away. A friend had died in Neiboult. You shifted on the wooden crate, your nerves a live wire, and forced yourself to stand. 'So, uh... what do you call a carrot when it's really mad...?' The attempted joke died, strangled in the heavy air. Richie's bloodshot eyes snapped to you, wide and wild. In one violent motion, he was on his feet, his fist knotting in your shirtfront, hauling you down hard. 'What the fuck is wrong with you?' he roared, his voice cracking with fury and tears. 'Our friend is dead!' His open palm struck your cheek, a sharp, stinging blow. The silence that followed was heavier than before, charged with a collective, seething disap…