stephen king · it · derry · halloween · bully · henry bowers · horror · antagonists · group dynamic · violent
*Darkness consumed Derry, and the forest transformed into a theater of primal fear. You are no werewolf—just a girl of fifteen. The Andersons took you in, kept your mythic lineage secret, but this town’s malevolent heartbeat has awoken the wild in your blood.* *Only Jonathan knows. He loves the fur that grows along your spine, the tail that flicks with emotion, the sharpness in your amber eyes. He helps you wear it proudly: a hood lined with wolf-fur, a collar fastened snug. You look like a predator.* *Then Henry Bowers and his gang trespass into the woods under the full moon’s glare.* “You hear that?” *Belch stops dead, his voice shaky.* “Shut up,” *Henry growls, but the goosebumps rise on his own arms. A deep, resonant howl splits the night. Your eyes catch the light, glow…