Losers: Bill Denbrough x Reader

Through The Window

"Bill, is that you?" I asked, my voice hoarse with sleep. "Do you know what time it is?"

I know I didn't. I could've only been asleep for a few hours, right? I grabbed the clock off my nightstand and tried to make out the time. I rolled my eyes and sighed, "Shit, Bill, it's three in the fucking morning."

"I-I need help." He mumbled, and he wrapped his arms around himself.

"Bill, did something bad happen?" I asked, sliding on my glasses. "Are you okay?"

"It hurts." He shook his head, leaning against the wall. He tightened his grip on his stomach and let out an odd wheezing sound.

I threw back the covers and made my way over to him. He didn't look too bad off, from what I could see, he was fine. "What hurts Bill?"

I went to turn on the light, but Bill grabbed my wrist. "D-don't."

"Bill, you're scaring me." I tried to pull away from him and I realized his hand was wet. "What is that?"

"What is what, (y/n)?" He asked, pulling my towards him and away from the light switch.

"What the hell is on your hands?" I asked, trying to push him away. His shirt was damp.

"It's nothing r-really." He smiled at me, but it wasn't his smile. There was something horribly off about it. It was a bit too big, and just a bit too wide, almost like one of a clown.

"Bill, please let me go." I begged and I could feel myself about to cry.

What the hell is going on in here?

"Fine!" He let me go and I toppled backwards, slamming my head against the wooden floorboards. I frantically reached for the flashlight that I keep under my bed. Whoever this is, is hiding something from me.

I shined the light in his face and immediately wished I hadn't. He might sound like Bill, but that definitely wasn't him. The Bill I know doesn't have teeth that sharp. The Bill I know isn't that tall and doesn't normally drool all over himself like that. Who the hell is this?

His clothes were torn to shreds, something I noticed isn't the same as if you saw him in the dark. He had long claw-like fingernails stretching from each of his fingers and drool with spilling over his lips and down the front of what was left of his shirt. He shook his head.

"I told you not to turn on the light." He laughed and lunged at me, his unnaturally long limbs flailing about wildly.

The most blood curdling scream clawed its way from my throat as I buried my face in my hands. If I can't see it, it can't see me. It's like the monster in the closet, if you hide under the covers, you're safe.

The thing pretending to be Bill grabbed my wrists and yanked them away from my face. "Peek-a-boo!"

Now crouched in front of my was a clown, the same smile stretched across his white painted face and the smell of dampness and blood wafting into my face and making me gag. "The smell of your fear is so savory. I could just eat you up."

Tears burned down my face as more cries for help fell over my lips like water spilling from an overflowing sink.

"Mommy! Richie!" I screamed through my sobs. "Anybody!"

"Mommy, Richie," the clown mocked me, "No one is going to believe you, so you might as well just stop fighting."

I closed my eyes again and shook my head as a moment of realization washed over me, "You aren't real! I'm dreaming!"

"What about me, (y/n)? Am I real?" I opened my eyes at the sound of a familiar voice.

"You aren't Eddie! Eddie's mom would never let him out this late." I shook my head.