( WARNING:
this chapter will contain mentions of death, murder, a dead body, blood, stitches, swearing, and other such things. please do not read on if any of these things might trigger you. your health is more important than the story. )
SIX
Levi ran and ran, her heart pounding wildly in her chest as she forced her legs to move faster. She blindly pawed at her cheeks with the heels of her palms, trying desperately to get rid of the mascara stains that had surely formed below her eyes.
Once the first glimpses of downtown Derry came into view, she allowed her pace to slow to a stop, her breathing coming in short pants as she leaned over, pressing her hands to her knees. Out of the corner of her eye, she managed to catch sight of Richie's red convertible, parked outside of the town temple; this piqued her curiosity, which soon overshadowed her fear as she began slowly walking toward the entrance. For a fraction of a second, she was back in 1989, thirteen years old and wearing that gingham dress, standing on the curb with Stanley and Richie. Levi chuckled at the memory, promising to herself that she would cease the opportunity to tease the Tozier man about his old bright blue suit when the occasion arose.
She quietly pushed the swinging doors, shoulders relaxing when her eyes caught Richie sitting alone on one of the benches, his mind clearly somewhere far away. Levi walked closer, taking a seat next to him, which startled him out of his reverie; he snapped his head in Levi's direction, visibly relaxing when he met her soft, worried gaze.
"You were leaving?" She questioned, voice quiet and light— so light, that Richie would've mistaken it for a gust of wind or his own subconscious, still stuck in a memory.
Richie shook his head, hesitating for a second before he shrugged. He couldn't lie to her—never had been able to—and yet, he couldn't bring himself to tell her the truth, either; he knew she was a scared as he was, but he couldn't bear to talk about that now. Not when he'd just found the slightest sliver of peace amongst all the chaos.
"...Yeah," He forced out, lacing his fingers together and pushing his hands between his knees. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, already anticipating a disappointed expression. Instead, he heard her give a hum of understanding as she turned her head away from him.
"I want to leave, too," She mused, shoulders slumped. "More than anything." Her voice was small, almost as if she was afraid that if she spoke too loud, she'd disturb the sense of calmness and serenity that had fallen over them. "...But we can't. Mike and Bev made that pretty clear."
A comfortable silence settled between them, neither of them willing to be the first to speak; there was nothing to say, no words that could truly express what they were feeling, so they just sat together until the late hours of the afternoon, when they both walked out of the building and got into Richie's car, making their way back to the Townhouse.
___________
Hannah all but crashed through the Townhouse's front doors, hair sticking to her forehead and eyes wide and wild; Ben and Beverly both turned their heads sharply, alarmed by Hannah's abrupt entrance.
"Han." Ben's brows furrowed as he took in the woman's frazzled appearance. He took a tentative step forward, "What happened to you? A-Are you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah, I—" Hannah took a deep breath, pushing her hair back from her forehead and softly shaking her head, taking her bottom lip between her teeth as she tried to form a coherent thought in the midst of her receding fear. "The clown. The goddamn clown got me."
Beverly's expression fell as all the color drained from her face. Just as she opened her mouth to further question the Jameson woman, a loud crash interrupted her, closely followed by a jumbled scream from Eddie's room. The trio shared another alarmed look before they all bolted up the stairs, only to find Eddie sticking close to the wall and inching his way out of his room, a gaping, bleeding hole in the middle of his cheek.
"Holy shit, Eds! What the fuck happened to you?!" Hannah exclaimed, recoiling back and nearly bumping into Beverly when she laid eyes on Eddie's injury.
"Bowers." Eddie said simply, pointing inside his room. "He's in the bathroom." Ben ran past them and into the room; with shaky hands, Beverly carefully touched the area around Eddie's wound, trying her best not to hurt the man. "Is it bad?" Eddie asked, his brows furrowed in worry. Hannah could see the wheels turning in his head and knew that, if either her or Beverly didn't do something to distract him from the true extent of his injury, the Kaspbrak man would soon be having a breakdown right in the middle of the hall.
"Uh, I-I don't think so." Hannah shrugged, her expression the exact opposite of what she had meant to convey with her words. Eddie's worry only worsened as a result of this; Hannah quickly shook her head, grabbing Eddie's wrists and moving his hands away from where they had been hovering near his face. "It's fine, just a couple stitches and you'll be good as new!" Hannah continued, plastering an over-enthusiastic grin on her face.
"He's gone," Ben breathed, nearly skidding to a stop by the doorframe. The trio in front of him all relaxed slightly, the two women turning their attention back to stopping Eddie's wound from bleeding. Beverly squished the skin together, her nose crinkling in disgust.
"I-I can try and stitch him up," Hannah offered, swallowing harshly when Eddie's wide eyes landed on her. "I mean, I'm no doctor, but I took sewing classes for a while. It shouldn't be that hard, right?"
Next thing she knew, they were all piled into Beverly's bathroom, a threaded needle in her hands and countless pieces of bloody gauze scattered inside the sink and on the floor; Hannah's hands shook as she tried to concentrate on weaving the needle in and out, Eddie's frantic little noises and the feeling of Ben and Beverly worriedly looming behind her doing little to ease her.
"We're almost done, Eddie—Shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Hannah winced, nervously dropping the needle; she swallowed the bile that rose in her throat at the sight of the needle hanging from Eddie's skin. "Oh, fuck, that's gross, holy fuck."
"Han, Hannah, you can't just leave it hanging there." Ben cringed, "You have to finish it. C'mon, you can do it."
"Fuck, why did I ever volunteer for this?" Hannah inhaled sharply, picking up the needle and continuing the job. "I'm not a doctor—Holy fuck, Eds, I'm sorry, oh, God." A few winces from Eddie and 'I'm sorry's from Hannah later, the Jameson woman had finished the stitches and was taping a piece of gauze to Eddie's cheek. "There you go, man."
"Thanks, Han," Eddie mumbled, drawing a shaky breath and patting the woman's shoulder.
"Yeah, I'm never doing that again." Hannah shook her head, blowing air out of her cheeks and sticking her hands under the running faucet, furiously scrubbing her hands clean. "We should probably go...Mike might think we died or something."
The woman received three identical, deadpanned looks from her friends, causing her to press her lips together. "N-Not the time? Okay, then."
___________
The sun had long since set and the streets of Derry were dark when the Losers made their way to the Derry library; Richie and Levi arrived first, both jumping out of the convertible and sharing a look of confusion when they noticed another vehicle parked little ways up the street, engine still running and with its front lights still on.
The pair slowly walked towards the library; Levi quietly pushed the door open, following behind Richie as he carefully walked further inside. The Johnston woman inhaled sharply and swallowed her scream when her sights landed on a bloodied, grimy Henry Bowers holding a knife and struggling against Mike's grip. Levi stumbled backward—everything was happening too fast for her brain to understand and, before she knew it, Richie was lodging an axe into Henry Bowers' skull, causing him to moan and drop dead next to Mike.
"Oh, my God," Levi breathed, pressing a hand to her forehead. She slowly stepped forward, wrapping her hand around Richie's forearm and squeezing tightly, trying her best to keep herself from looking at Bowers' body.
"Well, that was long overdue," Richie piped up, a breathless, nervous chuckle slipping past his lips as he quickly glanced between Levi and Mike. Both of his friends looked at him with wide eyes. "Get it? 'Cause we're in a library—" Richie did not have a chance to finish his sentence before he keeled over and threw up, making Levi shuffle away from him and eliciting a disgusted sound from Mike, who was still on the floor.
The door to the library slammed open, Beverly, Ben, Eddie, and Hannah all trickling inside; "Mike?" Beverly called out. "Mike?!" The Marsh woman came to an abrupt stop when she stumbled upon the gory scene, a scream ripping from her throat as she covered her mouth. Behind her, Hannah also froze in her tracks, breathing out a string of curses.
"A-Are you alright?" Ben asked, extending his arm and helping Mike stand.
"No, I'm not alright! I just fucking killed a guy!" Richie exclaimed, aggressively gesturing toward Henry's body before pushing his glasses up his nose.
Ben nodded slowly, "I was actually asking Mike."
Levi exhaled deeply, slowly letting go of Richie's arm and moving across the room, careful not to step on any blood. She quickly rushed toward Hannah, tightly wrapping her arms around her and rocking from side-to-side; "You okay?" Hannah whispered, rubbing Levi's back in an attempt to comfort her. The Johnston woman made a noncommittal noise, nodding slightly before pulling away from her best friend.
"Where's Bill?" Mike asked, his voice full of worry. This caused the Losers to look around, finally noticing that, in the middle of all the chaos, the Denbrough man had never made it to the library. Mike quickly pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing Bill's number and pressing the device to his ear. "Bill, we're at the library. Where you at?"
The rest of the Losers dispersed, sitting on tables, chairs or leaning against bookshelves, intently listening to Mike's side of the conversation; they were all startled when Mike abruptly stood from his chair, leaving Ben to pick up the first aid kit they had been using to patch up Mike's injuries.
"Look, look. Just come here to the library. We can talk about the plan—" Mike cut himself off, his free hand pressing down on the wood of the desk he was leaning against in frustration. "No, no, no. Bill? Bill! " Mike put down the phone, turning back around to face his friends, who were all looking at him with expectant expressions on their faces. "He's going to fight IT alone."
"What?" Richie whispered, brows furrowing together.
"Alone. It-It's about the group." Mike presented them with a triangle-esque shaped object. Richie took it in his hands, looking it over and examining it. "The ritual doesn't work without the group. Doing it together is why it worked." The Hanlon man protectively snatched the object away from Richie, shooting him a withering glare.
"Did he tell you where he was going?" Ben inquired, trying his best to keep the situation and his friends from spiraling out of control.
"If he really wanted to kill Pennywise, there's only one place he'll go," Beverly spoke, her voice soft as she lifted her gaze from the floor. Beside her, Hannah tensed, drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.
"The same place the ritual needs to be performed," Mike added.
"Ah, we're not gonna like this, are we?" Eddie breathed, pressing his lips together into a thin line and turning his head, meeting Levi's eyes; the Johnston woman just shook her head softly before hissing, "Motherfucker."
( AUTHOR'S NOTE )
happy belated holidays and new year, everyone!!
i wasn't on much during winter break because i was spending loads of time with my friends, my family, and my boyfriend, but now i can hopefully get back into the writing routine!!