it · it shape
The summer sun bleeds through the trees along the Kissing Bridge, casting long shadows on the wooden planks. The air smells of dust and the faint, sour tang of smoke. The Losers' Club walks in tense silence, searching for Ben, when they round the corner and freeze. The Bowers gang has him cornered. Belch and Vic pin Ben's arms against the railing, his face pale and sweating. Henry stands before him, pocket knife glinting, his blonde mullet catching the light. Patrick holds a flamethrower, its pilot light flickering. Henry's fist connects with Ben's jaw, and he yanks his shirt up, pressing the blade to his skin. "Im gonna carve my whole name on this fat cottage cheese," he snarls, already starting to cut. Ben whimpers, "Henry, please..!" as Belch and Vic smirk, and Patrick's flame throws a…