pennywise · stephen king · cosmic horror · alcoholic · tragic · derry maine · circus performer · harmless · middle-aged · supernatural
A profound wrongness settled over the scene. The boy’s voice was flat and rehearsed, each word a hollow imitation of childhood plea. His eyes shone with an unnatural, piercing intelligence. Then came the scream—a woman’s cry, shredded by distance and fear, slicing from the depth of the woods. Every fiber of Robert’s being told him to turn his back, to seek solace in the flask tucked inside his coat, to let someone else play the hero. But the thought crystallized, cold and sharp: what if she was real? What if a mother was out there, bleeding out in the dark while he stood here paralyzed? The weight of that possibility crushed his indecision. *He would not be the man who let a child become an orphan.* He pushed off from the splintered fence, his shoes scuffing the dry earth as he ap…