.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

【 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 】

iv. the townhouse

THE THREE OF THEM BURST THROUGH the doors of the Derry Townhouse, sliding on the ornately tiled floor in their haste.

"Let's get our shit and get the fuck out of here," Richie called, giving Verity a quick hug before urging her upstairs. "You guys can come in my car, yeah? Fuck what we drank, we're leaving," 

"Wait," she paused, leaning on the banister wearily, "The car I rented-"

"Screw it!"

"Did you leave your stuff here?" Eddie glanced back as Ben came in behind them. 

The taller man shook his head, watching as Beverly rushed towards the mini bar. "No, my stuff is in the car,"

Verity huffed out a breath, blowing the hair out of her eyes. "Why is it always us? Why can't a new group of kids deal with the damn clown?" she asked, the three of them reaching the carpeted landing. 

"I don't know, Ver," Eddie sighed, giving her a shrug before heading to his room, his thin shoulders sagging as he walked. 

Richie followed her to her room, swinging her suitcase onto the bedspread. "Make sure you get everything, I don't wanna have to come back here," he said grimly.

With a curt nod, Verity flew around the room like a whirlwind, making sure she had everything, not wanting to spend one more minute in that lousy town. She grabbed the book off her nightstand, tossing it into the case as Richie flung the wardrobe open - checking for any stray items of clothing - then went to the small bathroom, grabbing her toiletry bag and makeup with shaking hands. She put her camera back in its case, handling it tenderly, in great contrast to the other things she'd packed up. One last check under the bed and then she was zipping her case closed, hurrying out as Richie sped ahead of her.

"Eduardo, Veritas, andalé, let's go!" he shouted, voice bouncing off the wood-paneled walls.

She took the steps two at a time, almost twisting her ankle in the process, desperate to escape before the rest of the memories came back; she had only just started to remember, but had a sickening feeling that the worse ones were approaching fast. 

The bullying, the isolation she had faced in school, the countless days where she had wandered the town alone, her camera a defense mechanism against the crippling loneliness she felt. She couldn't quite remember the clown, though. Those memories were fuzzier, and each time one surfaced it would disappear again, sinking into blackness once more. She did remember the fear, as well as the strong sense of determination that had driven her to fight It.

Why exactly had she felt the need to defeat It? There had been a reason, she was sure; one didn't just casually risk their life against a monster, even at the impulsive age of fourteen. So what had been the catalyst to drive her to such a thing?

She shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion. It was almost as if she could feel the memory at the front of her brain, clamouring to be noticed, but each time she came close to catching it, it would sink through her fingers, as unobtainable as a handful of sand. 

As she reached the bottom of the stairs Verity hesitated, following the other's voices to the foyer as Richie turned to the bar, frowning slightly. "Wait, what?" he questioned, his voice catching.

The next second, Beverly sped out of the bar, shaking her head blindly as the other woman opened her mouth to speak.

Verity raised her eyebrows, staring at Richie and Ben curiously. "Anyone gonna explain what just happened?"

"She knew how Stanley was gonna die, is that what she just said?" Richie pressed, raising his arms impatiently as Ben ignored them, walking over to Bev wordlessly.

"Wait- What? What do you mean?" Verity managed to choke out, her grip on the case loosening. She followed the others to the front desk, that horribly sick feeling of dread creeping into her stomach once again.

Beverly searched the unmanned reception area frantically, her mouth set in a hard line. 

"You can't just walk away from this. How did you know where he killed himself?" Ben urged, standing helplessly as Bev began to beat the silver bell, the sound jarring as she hit it over and over again. "Bev..."

The woman shook her head, giving up on the bell and searching behind the counter. They stared at her as she grabbed her key, not meeting their eyes. 

"Talk to me. Just talk to me like you used to. Come on, how did you know?" Ben stepped in front of her, blocking her path to the staircase. 

She inhaled sharply, eyes trained on the floor. "Because I saw it. I saw all of us die," Bev explained, so softly they could hardly hear her. She looked up at Ben, eyes bright with unshed tears.

Verity stepped back, throwing out a hand to steady herself. She couldn't have thought this night could get any worse, but boy, was she wrong.

A muffled clattering sounded from the stairs, where Eddie was wrestling with two suitcases, comically large compared to his small frame. "Okay, I just need to grab my toiletries bag," he said, placing the cases down with a loud thud, that made Verity wonder in a detached sort of way if he had brought a whole drugstore with him from home. "What'd I miss?" He asked, arms falling slack at his sides.

"Well," Verity said, meeting his eyes with a shrug. "According to Bev, we're gonna die,"

His eyes bugged out of his head. "Hold on- What?"

"Ask them," she hooked a thumb behind her. "I need another drink," 

Pushing past the group, she trudged to the bar, kicking her cases aside. She slammed a glass down onto the wooden counter, followed by a large bottle of amber liqueur, not even bothering to check the label before knocking it back. "Fuck," she muttered, throat burning as she swallowed the fiery liquid.

Her friends joined her, Beverly sitting down, staring vacantly down at the floor. Ben followed Verity's lead and poured himself a drink, while Richie stood motionless, eyes fixed on Bev. Meanwhile Eddie, not able to keep still, paced the room.

"Okay. So, what do you mean you've seen us all die?" he ventured, standing next to Beverly's chair. 

"Yeah, 'cause I gotta be honest, that's a fucked up thing to just drop on somebody," Richie agreed.

Verity took another drink, abandoning the glass and swigging straight from the bottle.

"Charming," Richie muttered, and she promptly flipped him off.

Beverly dragged a hand across her cheek. "Every night since Derry, I've..." she paused, exhaling deeply. "...Been having these nightmares. People in pain, p-people dying. People..." she trailed off, voice trembling.

"Okay, so, you have nightmares. I have nightmares. People, they have nightmares! That doesn't mean that your visions are true!" Eddie countered, waving his hands as he spoke.

She shook her head, looking at him sadly. "I've watched every single one of us. We..."

Ben put his drink down, the clatter of glass on wood deafening in the silence that hung in the air. He looked at Bev, his hazel eyes full of sorrow, while Verity put her head in her hands, too exhausted and full of alcohol to really care anymore. Richie, as if sensing this, appeared at her side, patting her back clumsily as she rested her head on his shoulder. 

"You've seen every single one of us, what?" Bill said from the door, entering with Mike trailing behind him. 

Bev looked at him as he took the chair next to her. "The place where Stanley wound up," she whispered tearfully. "That's how we end."

"How come the rest of us aren't seeing that shit?" Richie questioned. "W-What makes her so different?"

Mike looked at him, his face blank and unreadable. "The deadlights,"

There was a moment of silence before Verity lifted her head, blinking. "That's.. that's not ringing a bell, Mikey," The words didn't sound familiar, no matter how hard she racked her brain.

"The... The deadlights. She was the only one of us that got caught in the deadlights that day," Bill said slowly, rolling the words about in his mouth, and as he spoke a flash of memories hit the group, bringing them back to that fateful summer of '89. 

The way they had stumbled through the sewers until they found Bev; floating as though in a trance, hanging there motionless in her floral dress, eyes white and staring into space. She had been lucky, in a way, Verity thought now. Although if they hadn't gotten to her in time, she would have suffered a similar fate to the other children. She shivered at the thought.

Mike moved to stand in the middle of the room, eyeing them all sternly. "We were all touched by It, changed. Deep down, like an infection. Or... Or a virus. A virus!" he continued, ignoring his friends' nervous glances. Beverly lit another cigarette as Ben began to pace like Eddie had done only minutes before. "You understand, Eddie?" he went on as the smaller man backed away, scared by his manic behaviour. "Slowly, growing. That virus, it's been growing for twenty-seven years! This whole time, it's been metastasizing. It just got to Stan first because..."

"He was the weakest," Richie finished, his mouth twisting in discomfort. It was true, of course. But that didn't make it any easier to hear.

"Richie-" Verity gasped, horrified. 

"Jesus Christ, Rich," Bill said disapprovingly, shaking his head. 

"I was just saying what everyone else is thinking, man,"

"That doesn't make it okay!" she burst out, looking at him angrily. "Don't think for a second that it's okay. Stan was different, we all knew that! Remember the lady, from that stupid painting in his dad's study?" she closed her eyes, voice cracking as she remembered. "That fucked him up for years afterwards - he never told any of you because he thought you'd make fun. But he told me. He had nightmares about her, and those scars? Where she.. she bit him?" she stopped as a sob escaped her lips, her heart aching for him. "Don't you dare try and tell me that boy wasn't brave, 'cause he was a hell of a lot braver than I ever was."

"What Beverly sees, it will come to pass. It's what'll happen to all of us eventually," Mike gestured to the red-haired woman, sitting quietly, cigarette burning in her hand. "Unless we stop it,"

Eddie shook his head frantically, looking as though he was on the verge of a panic attack. "How the hell are we supposed to do that?"

Mike looked at him, eyes darkening. "The ritual of Chüd. The Shakkul people, the first ones who fought It. They have a saying, 'all living things must abide by the laws of the shape they inhabit',"

"Mikey- it's a clown for God's sake," Verity said, staring at him in disbelief. "What are we supposed to do? Tell him the fucking circus closed down?"

"A tribal ritual? Are... Are you fucking kidding me, man? Alright, there's gotta be another way." Richie shook his head. "Okay, this thing comes back... What? Every twenty-seven years? Let's kick the can down the road and do it then," 

Eddie gaped at him, mouth hanging open. "Wait, we'll be seventy years old, asshole!" he snapped.

"It doesn't work that way, none of us make it another twenty-seven years," Bev confessed ruefully, watching as Verity passed the bottle to Richie, who took a large swig.

"So, if we don't beat It this cycle then..." Ben said in a small voice.

"We die," Bill finished.

"Horribly," Eddie added, turning away with a sigh.

Richie glared at him. "Yeah, I don't need the horribly part," he said, making Verity roll her eyes.

"I didn't say it. She said it, not me," Eddie gestured to Beverly. 

"No she didn't, Eddie-Bear," Verity slurred slightly, using the unfortunate nickname he had gotten from his mother.

"Yes, she did!"

"Didn't!

Bill exhaled loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Alright, guys look. I've seen w-wuh-what he's talking about, and it's... it's all true," he said quickly, interrupting. "It's the only way. If we want this ritual to work,"

"We have to remember," Mike agreed.

Richie raised his eyebrows, leaning against the bar. "Remember what?" he asked, enunciating his words.

"It's better if I show you. We don't have much time. This cycle will end soon, and once it does..."

"We're fucked." Eddie said simply.

Verity stood up, swaying slightly. "Well, I think we should all get some rest after... the night we've had," she turned to Richie. "Although you might have to help me upstairs, Rich, 'cause I'm really fucking drunk,"

She knew she was going to have the worst hangover of her life the next morning, but she didn't care.

After all, they had much worse things to worry about now.

AUTHOR'S NOTE!
y'all are being fed well this week huh