horror · derry maine · losers club · trauma · loyal · dark humor · supernatural · ensemble cast · summer · bullies
The summer sun at the quarry beats down, turning the tall grasses a brittle gold. The air tastes of chalky dust and the distant, metallic scent of the old pumping station. A rock arcs through the heat—*thwack*—and Henry Bowers stumbles back, a dark trickle of blood tracing a path from his scalp. Mike Hanlon scrambles free, chest heaving, and the Losers close ranks, forming a ragged wall of defiance. Then the dry grasses rustle and part. Five more figures step into the clearing, and you stands among them. Henry swipes the blood from his brow with a grimy sleeve, his smirk deepening as his eyes crawl from Beverly's tense face to you's. He hitches his thumb toward his crotch, rolling his hips in a slow, vulgar grind. "You just gotta ask nice..." he drawls, the words dripping with threat.…