The room they entered was a playroom. This was not an obvious fact straight away, but Ben managed to deduce it fairly quickly. It took a moment because Ben first had to contend with the strangeness of the place.
At first, he believed he had been shrunken down. That would explain all the large towers of alphabet blocks that covered the walls. The humongous teddy bear sitting in an equally huge rocking chair. The giant birds which seemed to fly around the ceiling attached to strings. But most of all, it would explain the humongous jack in the box that stood at the far end of the room.
"There's something in the jack in the box," said Sara.
"How do you know that?" asked Ben.
"Because of course there is," said Sara, "I bet there's like a weird Pennywise clown in there."
"Who's Pennywise?" Croaked Jamie.
"You know," said Sara, "From the movie IT."
"I've been trapped here for twenty-three years," croaked Jamie, "I've missed a few things."
"The book came out in the 80's," said Tia Maggie.
"I didn't really read much," admitted Jamie.
Ben began to look more closely around the room for anything of interest, which was difficult because everything was of interest. Most of the rooms had at least the familiar shape that he recognised, but this one was such a strange collection of toys and games that it was difficult to decide what was important and what was just set dressing.
One thing Ben did notice pretty quickly was the fact that the floor was some form of trampoline. In Fact, it actually seemed to be a connected group of five trampolines, four of which formed a square around a larger fifth.
"Might get to show off our new gymnastic moves ay, Sara," said Tia Maggie.
"Okay, you were pretty cool back there, Aunt Mag's, but let's not milk it," Sara said.
"Oh, I like Aunt Mag's," said Tia Maggie, "Cool name for your cool aunt."
"Yeah, she's getting less cool by the second," said Sara.
The four of them made their way into the centre of the room as they continued to try to take in the area. Ben was beginning to wonder if the goal of the game might not just be to find the key in all the strange clutter, like those old computer games he used to play at school, but it was around this time that something happened.
"See, I told you," was about as much as Sara could say before the sound of the Jack in the Box's whirring handle cut her short.
It was almost the second she finished that an incredibly loud music box rendition of Pop Goes the Weasel began. When it concluded, the top of the box burst open with fanfare and confetti.
What leaped out of the box was a clown, though it didn't look like the ones Ben was used to seeing, it was wearing a mostly white costume with three red poms on its chest like large buttons. On their head, they were wearing a pointed hat with a red trim with a little red pom on top. The worst thing, though, was the make-up.
Ben didn't like clowns. He felt bad about this because he was sure that they were nice people just trying to entertain, but Ben was scared by most things, and clowns were unfortunately not an exception. The makeup was what did it. The strange, exaggerated lips locked in an impossibly large grin, the strangely highlighted mad eyes, and even the pure white face made Ben squirm a little.
One strange thing about the Clown was how small they were. Admittedly, they were actually the size of a normal clown, but that in itself was unexpected due to the box it had come out of being the size of a small building.
The clown had leapt out, arms spread, as the fanfare played, and familiar circus music began to fill the room. It was at this point that the clown began its main act. They pulled out three juggling balls from seemingly nowhere and began what proved to be a complex routine involving tricks and various acrobatic feats. They hopped about on one leg, somersaulted whilst the balls were in the air and then caught them before they landed and even did a few of the juggles with their feet.
This went on for what felt uncomfortably long, leaving everyone unsure of how to react. They were all well aware that a penny would soon be dropping, but when and how remained a mystery.
Soon enough, however, the game would begin in earnest.
The Clown was in the process of doing a one-arm handstand while juggling with the other when they suddenly lost their balance and tumbled forward off the Jack in the Box. As they fell through the air, it became clear that they would land on the precise spot where their audience was gathered. A mad dash began to clear the area, but no one managed to get off the trampoline, and when the clown hit, they were all suddenly shot into the air.
Ben struck the trampoline closest to the door and bounced uncontrollably for a few dizzying seconds. Even when he had managed to stop, he had an horrific time trying to get into a position that didn't irritate his wounded leg. Once he was stable, his immediate instinct was to find that clown. It was not difficult. The clown had remained in the centre space and was chasing after their bouncing balls.
Two of the balls escaped down through the gaps in the trampoline but the last of them bounced their way to Ben. He had just enough time to acknowledge the ball before the clown came bounding towards him.
The Clown went for the ball, but something clicked inside Ben. The clown must not get the ball. That must be the game. He quickly snatched the ball away as the clown, mid-dive, smashed into the trampoline.
They recovered quickly and moved up towards Ben, with that large, inhuman grin on his face and their arm outstretched. Ben was beginning to panic when he heard Sara calling out to him.
"Ben!" she shouted, "Over here."
Ben looked past the clown to see his sister on the trampoline to his left side. She was bouncing there, waving her arms about to get his attention. The clown made a sudden leap towards him, and Ben, panicking, threw the ball towards his sister.
Ben wasn't a great shot at the best of times, and under pressure, he ended up flinging the ball with neither strength nor accuracy.
It went in the direction of Sara, but fell short landing with a bounce a few feet in front of her.
Much like a dog, the clown followed the ball immediately and was hot on its trail as Sara scrambled to get it up off of the trampoline. Sara had just about managed to get the ball when the clown landed directly in front of her. The sudden shift in the ground caused Sara to fall backwards, but she kept tight hold of the ball and shuffled away as fast as she could.
The clown just kept bouncing towards her arm outstretched.
"Sara," Jamie called.
Sara didn't take much time. Once she heard the call, she flung the ball with all her might across to Jamie. Sara was a much better thrower than Ben was, and the pass was significantly cleaner. Jamie caught the ball in his good hand and had a few moments where he could survey the room as the Clown bounded towards him.
The Clown hadn't even gotten to Jamie's trampoline when he had thrown the ball towards Tia Maggie, who again managed to catch it deftly, and the clown had to once again change course.
A rhythm began to form. As soon as someone got the ball, they would throw it to someone else before the Clown had time to cross the distance. It was little more than a holding pattern but an effective one, nonetheless. The Clown was now, for the most part, confined to the central trampoline and had resorted to jumping around wildly to get the ball anytime it passed by.
Ben was worried that they might actually catch a few of the passes, mostly his own, but it seemed that even when it got close, the Clown could never quite catch the ball. It was more like the Clown was performing some kind of gross pantomime of catching. Whenever it came close, they would flail their arms or dive in the direction of the ball in a way that almost seemed perfectly designed to just miss.
All the while, they still had that horrible grin on their face.
Maybe they weren't even trying to catch the ball. Maybe this was all a trick, and the clown was just messing with them. As the rally of throws went on it was becoming increasingly clear that there wasn't an end goal. Unless they were being timed, there seemed to be no end to their constant throws, and whilst they were starting to flag, the clown reminded a whirlwind of energy.
Ben imagined similar thoughts were occurring to the others, but what did it matter? The second any of them got the ball the Clown was leaving only the spaces between throws to consider anything deeply.
There must be something else. There must be some other game that they were missing whilst this stupid clown forced them to play keep away. All that being said, it still felt important to keep the ball away from the clown. It was difficult for Ben to describe, but with so little else to go on, it just seemed the only concrete goal they could have.
But something would have to break soon. Everyone was growing tired, and Ben, in particular, was struggling to keep up. His throws were getting worse, but everyone else seemed to have gotten good at compensating, and it was only causing minor delays. What was worse was his catching. Ben was actually a decent catch, if only because he was very reflexive when faced with objects flying towards him, but he was by far the smallest of the four and, therefore, the most difficult target. More than once, he fumbled the ball and had to blindly throw it away as the clown quickly gained on him.
Then it finally happened that he missed the ball entirely. It was an underhanded pass from Jamie, who only had proper use of one hand and was already the weakest of the throwers, that had gone a little short. This wasn't the worst thing, but Ben had overcompensated and had placed himself a foot or so away from where the ball was landing. Instead of landing in his outstretched hands, it fell behind him and bounced away.
Because of the trampoline, the ball was disturbed by every movement Ben made to get towards it. Eventually, he panicked and made a dive for the ball, just managing to get a hold of it before it flew off again. Now that he had the ball in his hands, Ben was turning to make the pass to Sara when he was met with the clown's grinning face.
They were right there, inches from his face, so close that Ben could make out cracks in the makeup. Ben let out a scream and hurled the ball off in Sara's general direction.
This close, Ben was sure that he could make out a slight twitch in the Clown's face as they turned and bounded off towards his sister.
After that, Ben was in a pretty bad state, but he managed to keep the rally going with only a small amount of difficulty.
That had been too close for comfort. They had been right there. Had Ben not thrown the ball when he had, who knows what might have happened. Who knows?
What would have happened?
Ben had never had a specific fear for what might happen if the clown Caught him, the same way he hadn't with the creature in the bedroom or the darkness in the cellar, and that had, until now, seemed reasonable.
The time spent in this place had done a lot to shatter any preconceptions Ben had about... well, anything, and it paid to rely on your more irrational fears. But now, a question was beginning to form. Why didn't the clown do anything? Ben might have reacted almost immediately upon becoming aware that the Clown was upon him, but he only noticed that quite late. Prior to that, the Clown must have had ample time to do... something. If they were trying to get the ball, then they would have been able to pounce on Ben and grapple it from his grasp. Ben couldn't have done much about that. Instead, it had just stood there. It had scared the hell out of him, but beyond that, Ben couldn't see what the Clown had gotten out of that.
Ben began to observe the clown more closely. They were still performing exaggerated attempts to catch the ball and followed it whenever it passed by them. As the group were getting tired, there was a longer delay between the catching of the ball and the next throw, which gave Ben a chance to observe the clown as they came towards the others.
They would bounce excitedly towards the ball with their hand outstretched. Why? Were they going to attack them when they got close? They hadn't done that to Ben. They also weren't particularly well set up to do that. The hand was flat with the palm up. They could flex it to strangle or attack whoever they were close to, but if they were just going to do that, why bother with the deception?
When the ball next came to Ben, he found himself hesitating for a second as the Clown lept towards him. This would be the best chance to observe them. He had to get as good a look as he could, even if it was a risk. There wasn't a huge amount of time to do this. The clown soared towards him in a series of leaps and was far closer than Ben liked almost immediately. Ben did his best to take in the clown in the short time he had. The same things as before: huge smile, arm outstretched and big wild eyes.
Were they actually that wild? Ben noticed something in the eyes. The grin was as large as ever, but there was something else in those eyes. A pleading look.
The Clown landed on Ben's trampoline, and he threw the ball away in fright. As he did, their eyes locked. Ben saw the sadness in those golden eyes. He had seen that sadness before.
The gaze lasted less than a second before the clown sprang off after the ball, but Ben had learned everything he needed to.
The clown was bouncing around with its fixed smile and handheld out. Handheld out, asking for the ball.
The clown couldn't catch the ball, no matter how bad the pass was, because one of them needed to give it.
So, were they just meant to keep it away? That had done little but tire them out so far. If that were the case, then why would it be so easy? If Ben was right, which he was not certain of but increasingly confident about, then he could hold the ball, but the clown still couldn't get it.
Was that just it? To not give in to the clown, to play and keep away with them until some unforeseen goal was met. Maybe? Maligna was a cruel man. If anyone would make a game where the only way to win was through cruelty, then it would be him.
Ben continued to study the clown as the ball went round. Now that he had seen those eyes, it was impossible not to see past the fixed smile. There was pain in those eyes. Pain that he was causing.
The ball came towards Ben, and he caught it, fumbling a little through distraction, and held onto it. The Clown galumphed towards him, and it was quite a struggle not to instinctively throw the ball away. There was still so much about the Clown that terrified him, but there was still that look in the eyes. Ben couldn't ignore those eyes any longer.
As the Clown grew closer, the others started calling out to him. At first, it was just to indicate that they were able to catch, but as the Clown got closer without Ben seemingly throwing away the ball, their shouts became more panicked and questioning.
Ben tried to hold firm as the Clown finally landed in front of him. The sudden impact on his trampoline nearly sent Ben to the ground but he managed to bounce with it and stay upright. The Clown was right in front of him now with his arm outstretched. Ben stood tense for a few moments as the others' shouts echoed through the room. Ben was almost certain that the Clown would suddenly lash out against him, but as a few moments passed and the Clown remained with an outstretched hand, Ben became more certain that they wouldn't do anything on their own.
And so, it was up to Ben. He would have to hand over the ball or throw it away. Ben could feel the pulsing of his heart as he stood there. There was still something menacing about the Clown, and now that the moment of decision was upon him, Ben felt a lot less confident. He once again looked into those eyes. They were not the eyes of Maligna. They were a shimmering gold shining with a strangely comforting light. Within them, Ben could read a world of emotion far beyond the forced grin he saw on the face.
Ben couldn't even imagine that those eyes were fake, that they were some ruse to pull at his heart strings. Unlike everything else about the Clown, their sad, imploring look was small, subtle, and above all, real.
Ben tightened his grip on the ball and hesitantly raised it over the outstretched hand. He allowed for all his doubts to flash through his mind before forcing his fingers to relax. The ball slipped from his grasp and landed gently in the palm of the clown.
The whole room went quiet. The Clown just stood there staring at the ball. Then their eyes met once again, and the clown's smile, big as it was, got even bigger.
Then, with a lightning-quick motion, it brought the ball down on Ben's head with a crack. Ben could hear the others cry out, but he felt no pain. The clown brought back their hand and opened it out in front of Ben's face. It was empty, but then, with a flourish, a small silver key appeared within.
The clown held it out towards Ben. He hesitated for a moment as he looked the Clown in the eyes once more. There was a warmth in those eyes now, and they were asking him to take the key.
Ben took it, and the moment he did, the Clown leapt into the air with joy. They somersaulted all the way to the centre of the trampoline, and there they bounced on the spot, building momentum for one final leap into the air. As they did so, the air took on a strange golden glitter that spread out across the entire room. The golden light gathered and gathered until, finally, it was blinding, and Ben had to close his eyes to protect himself.
Then the light was gone, and all that was left were the four players in a small room with a few toys.
"What the hell just happened?" Asked Sara.
"The Clown gave me the key," said Ben.
The others seemed sceptical, but they couldn't deny that he did indeed have the key, and the game seemed to have ended.
Ben tried to explain but found that he couldn't. He had made some rationalisations for it in the moment, but all of that seemed to fade away as he searched. All he was left with was that look he had seen in those eyes and how it had made him feel the knowledge that he had to give him the ball. It was just the right thing to do.
"I just felt bad for them," he said in the end.
"For the Clown?" Asked Sara.
Ben shrugged.
"Yeah, I guess," he said.
Sara rolled her eyes.
"You're a soft touch Ben," she said as she headed towards the door, "Always making the weirdest friends."
"They're not always that weird," said Ben.
Jake came back to mind, and thoughts of him carried Ben from the playroom back into the hall. He would make things right with him; he was certain of that now, and next time, he would stick up for his friend.
Ben was actually so preoccupied that he barely acknowledged what he was doing as he turned the key in the tenth slot. It was only the beginning of the ten chimes that actually brought him back to where he was. He looked at the clock, now almost filled with keys, and noticed the two remaining. Two more to go.
He might actually be able to keep that promise.
For now, he followed the others as they made their way to the doors that had opened on the bottom floor, and then they were off into the penultimate game.