Serial killer (IT 2017 x Jennifer's body)

Prologue

                                       Hell is a teenage girl.

(Italic talking is Beverly's thoughts) 

"I guess I'm not exactly perfect myself. But at least I have my fans. I mean, I get letters every day. Mostly from perverts or chesters, but still I'm kinda the shit."

"Marsh, rec time started five minutes ago," The chubby orderly tried to command the much smaller girl.

"Grassy-ass Raymundo," was the nonchalant response that Beverly offered to the man, who at this point was so done with his job that he turned on his heel and rushed away instead of offering a verbal response.

"Sometimes, the letters are from people who say they're praying for me. They tell me everything  will be okay if I just accept Jesus Christ into my heart. I say the words but nothing ever happens. Nobody comes back. Nobody gets off the cross." 

The ginger took the rare quiet time to slip out of her hospital gown and into her orange uniform. The material was scratchy and thin. The girl missed the comfort of her sweaters and loose dresses but she doubted she'd feel the soft fabric on her skin anytime soon. Beverly stared at the photo of Bill Denbrough on her barred window ledge. The picture was frozen in time, the stuttering boy stood smiling in front of the place in which they had their first date. Marsh managed to shake herself out of her trip down memory lane as she slid her feet into a ridiculously oversized pair of slippers before shuffling out of her 'room.'

The grey walls of the sad excuse of a rec hall had modripping down the sides. The other inmates looked almost pitiful as they desperately tried to participate in shitty, incomplete games and sports.

"Welcome to the mental Olympics. They're big on recreation here. Supposedly, it helps us vent our aggressions."

Beverly was already in a sour mood before she had to join the group of crackheads and loonies. She wasted little to no time in walking her way over to the punching bag before sending it toppling to the floor with a single swing of her fist.

Rec time came to an abrupt end shortly after Marsh's silent rage as it became apparent that it was meal time. 

"Personally, I think they're trying to wear us out,  keep us sluggish so there won't be an uprising. Well, those JV tactics won't work against me. I'm a kicker.  K-I-C-K-E-R. It even says so on my chart."

The copper haired girl hated nothing more than walking with her plastic tray of food to her empty spot by one of the large windows. Marsh had barely been observing the world outside the window for five minutes before another worker decided to walk over to her and strike a conversation. 

"Just one toast 'Em, huh?" The woman questioned. She often inquired about the younger girls lack of eating habits.

"I like toast 'Ems." Snapped Beverly.

"Well that's good. But I'm not sure a toast 'Em can provide sufficient energy during your day. I recommend more complex carbo--" The unfortunate doctor was cut short when she was met with a swift kick in the face from none other than Marsh herself. The woman went flying into a table and the inmates sitting there.

"I recommend you shut the fuck up!" Sneered Bevvie as she spat down on the woman. Blood dripped in a small puddle out of the Doctor's mouth who was still in shock from the incident. Two orderlies were quick to run over and restrain the thrashing girl before throwing her in solitary condiment.

Beverly belted out a frustrated scream the second the doors slammed shut. Solitary was narrow yet tall as the roof seemed to stretch on for miles. The walls dropped with something wet and the faint smell of piss filled the air. The only source of light was the small window a t the top of the wall.

"I wasn't always this cracked. I used to be normal. Well as normal as any girl under the influence of teenage hormones. But after the killings began, I started to feel-- I don't know-- loose around the edges or something."

The darkness from the night sky started to creep in from window. The speaker above the panting girl suddenly started blaring an overplayed song from the radio that Beverly could no longer remember the name of. 

"God! I hate this fucking song." Bevvie exclaimed as she clamped her hands on her ears.

The freckled girl slid to the floor in a pile of rage. As the song continued to echo throughout the room.