chapter twelve
the nightmare on neibolt street

☼ ☽

          The Well House on Neibolt Street was a tragedy in itself. It was a house built without kindness. It was never meant to be lived in nor was it ever fit for a living creature pure of soul to step foot inside. It was a house without hope, without reason; an evil entity meant to be feared not cared for. It was a disease, plaguing and spreading across its grounds, swallowing whole the creatures that dared to walk across its premises. No exorcism or ritual could cleanse the town of its disease. Well House was not just a house, it was a monster with skin and bones and a face just like any other of creature. And it would remain that way until it was ripped brick from brick, floorboard from floorboard, and left to starve.

The Losers' Club were like small creatures daring to be swallowed whole by the monster. Each of them were frail and ripped at the edges; the perfect meal fit for a monster with an unquenchable appetite. As they rode closer to the house, Jill began to feel she had a price on her head; a price to define what she was worth. And in the eyes of the Well House, Jill Samson was nothing more than prey.

When they arrived, Beverly hopped off her bike and threw it to the ground. "Bill, you can't go in there. This is crazy," she shouted, throwing her hands up in the air. The other preteens gathered around her, piling into the house's front yard and staring up at the boy who was brave enough to step foot on the monster's skin.

Jill drifted her eyes across the premises, swallowing hard as chills pricked her skin. She averted her gaze to the boy standing in front of the entrance. "Bill, if we go in there we'll die," she said, her voice hoarse and dry. Her hand subconsciously drifted to her neck as she remembered the way It's relentless grip strangled the life out of her body.

Bill slowly lifted his hand from the doorknob and turned to face the Losers' Club. He looked older standing before them; like the past months had aged him twice his actual age. His eyes were dull, no longer holding the bright emerald tint that would shine in the sun. A frown had replaced the small smile he always used to flash at people, and his skin was pale almost like he was a ghost of his past self—a shell of a boy who had witnessed too much.

"Look," Bill began, his bottom lip quivering but his voice was clear and stern, "you don't have to come in with me, but what happens when another Georgie goes missing, or another Betty or another Ed Corcoran or one of us? Are you just going to pretend it didn't happen like everyone else in this town? Because I can't." His eyes brimmed with tears, but he wouldn't let them fall. He kept his posture straight and stood a little taller before he took a deep breath and continued. "I go home and all I see is that Georgie isn't there. His clothes, his toys, his stupid stuffed animals are, but he isn't. So—" he jabbed a finger at the withered door— "walking into this house for me . . . is easier than walking into my own."

Jill wet her lips, tilting her head to the dead grass beneath the soles of her shoes. She knew the feeling of walking into your home and everything reminding you of that one person. Her mother was in the walls of her apartment; some of her clothes and her lipsticks were stored away in boxes; the marks where she recorded Jill's height when she was a child still stained the wall outside of the bathroom. Sometimes if Jill wasn't paying attention, she could have sworn she'd seen her mother walk past her in her peripheral vision. But she wasn't really there. She was gone. And Jill knew exactly what it felt like to miss someone so much your heart constricts and you feel like you can't breathe. Loss was a painful thing, and Jill knew it well. Bill did, too. She guessed that was one of the only things they had in common, and oddly enough it made her heart ache for him.

Richie broke the silence first. "Wow."

Eddie stared at the back of his head. "What?"

Richie peered over his shoulder at the boy. "He didn't stutter once," he commented, a small prideful smile lifting onto his face.

Bill sighed and began to turn the knob, but a frantic voice stopped him. "Wait!" Stan shouted, jumping forward with his hand raised in the air. Everyone locked eyes on the boy. Jill could tell he was scared and she didn't blame him. Hell, her heart was on the verge of bursting out of her chest. "Uh . . . shouldn't we have some people keep watch, just in case something bad happens?"

The Denbrough boy nodded. "Wh—wh—wh—who wants to stay out here?" he asked, scanning the group of preteens in anticipation.

All the Losers shot their hands high in the air, except Beverly and Bill. Jill tugged on Beverly's clothes and shot her a concerned look, but the redhead only brushed it off and turned her eyes back to the boy at the top of the stairs.

Bill seemed disappointed or maybe ashamed, either way, he gave a groan of frustration. "Fine," he grumbled. "I guh—guess we'll pull stick—sticks." He stomped down the creaky stairs and bent down to gather seven sticks. The group watched him wearily as he shuffled the sticks in his hands and then offered them to each of the Losers.

One by one, each Loser pulled a stick from his hand. Beverly pulled first then Jill, and so on until they were all standing with sticks varying in sizes in their hands. Jill craned her neck to see who had pulled the shortest sticks. Richie seemed to have the same idea. The two of them made eye contact, glancing down at each other's sticks with wide eyes. Richie's stick seemed to be no longer than two inches, which was obviously the shortest in the group next to Eddie's stick.

Jill snorted. "Losers."

Eddie smacked his forehead and threw his stick while Richie glanced down at his stick and groaned. "Fuck," Richie grumbled, throwing his stick to the ground. "You guys are lucky we're not measuring dicks." He crossed his arms over his chest as the two boys reluctantly followed Bill up the creaky stairway to Hell. Bill pushed open the door, disappearing into the darkness with Richie trailing behind him. Eddie glanced back at the rest of the Losers, his eyes wide and mouth slightly agape before he closed the rickety door behind him, leaving the others to nervously bite their fingernails outside until they returned.

The silence engulfed them as the remaining five Losers stood in front of the Well House with heavy hearts. The only sound to be heard was the whistling of the wind and the creaking of the house of horrors, almost as if it were breathing. Jill clenched her fists and glared at the monster. She wondered if she doused it in gasoline and threw a match into the mouth of the monster if it would burst into flames and the hauntings would conclude. All she could think was how fun it would be to stand outside and watch it burn to ash. The sound of its scream would comfort her as she watched in silence, knowing she was the sun—the hearth of the fire.

Jill blinked away the fire in her eyes and tore her gaze from the house, tilting her head to the dead grass. She found it odd how the Well House was the only place in all of Derry that had dead grass in the dead of summer. Maybe the lack of care it received caused the life to slowly escape the premises, but something told her there was a different reason. But then again, nothing in Derry was ever dead.

She shook her head at her intrusive thoughts and tilted her head back, squinting at the sun. As she stared, three birds flew overhead in an open triangle. Her brows furrowed slightly as she watched them fly past the Well House. She remembered Stan telling her sometime during the summer that typically seven or eight birds flew in flocks together, but never in numbers less than four, so it puzzled her that those three birds were flying on their own.

"They're pretty cool, aren't they?" Stan asked from beside her with a small smile on his face but his voice was stiff and hoarse. Jill brought her eyes to his and stared. He had his arms crossed over his chest, his hands hidden under his armpits as he craned his neck to stare at the birds disappearing into the distance. "It's not typical, you know? I think . . . I think I already told you this, but um they fly in larger numbers than just three. It's so they have better communication and follow their route more directly. It keeps them safe. With two or three . . . I don't . . . " He turned his head to look at Jill. "I don't know if they'll survive."

Jill searched his face for a moment. "They'll survive, Stan," she said, softly. She thought it was perhaps the softest she'd ever spoken, but she did it for Stan because she liked Stan. He wasn't obnoxious or spoke when keeping silent was the best answer. He was thoughtful and precise. He knew the world more than any of the Losers, and he knew it well.

Stan breathed out air through his nose. "How do you know that?" he asked weakly, his voice cracking as the words escaped his lips. His face had faded into a slight red and tears had begun to leak from his eyes, spilling over his cheeks.

Jill thought over her next words for a moment as she glanced between Stan's shoulder and his face. She didn't know if she should have comforted him or if he would have rather been left alone. She was never good with affection. "Because they have each other," she finally said. Her eyes drifted to his shoulder again, and she hesitantly lifted a hand to his shoulder and squeezed. "They have each other, okay?" Stan glumly nodded as he raised a hand to rest on top of hers, squeezing her hand before he let his fall to his side.

As the seconds of silence passed, Jill let her hand drop from his shoulder, but as soon as it dropped to her side, Stan began to sob. Not because she had dropped her hand, but because the situation was too much for him. Jill could see that since the moment Bill took off to the Well House. His fear had been eating away at him the moment It awoke, and it wouldn't stop until it had swallowed him whole.

Mike moved from behind her and went to the other side of Stan. "It's okay," he spoke quietly and in a soft tone as he wrapped an arm around the boy and pulled him close. "Just think of the birds, Stanley."

Stan shook his head. "I can't go in there, Mike," he cried as the sobs shook through his body. "I can't."

Mike nodded in acknowledgment. "Just think of the birds and this will all be over soon." His eyes drifted to meet Jill's who was watching the two of them with anxiety-ridden eyes. He mouthed to her if she was okay, and Jill nodded, but she couldn't bring herself to smile. She liked Mike a lot, too. He was calm and gentle and he always knew the right thing to say. He turned his attention back to Stanley. "Is there anything else that makes you feel safe or calm or—"

"Turtles," Jill mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. The two of them looked at her, waiting for her to continue. She stepped closer to the two. "We saw this turtle at the Quarry. He—" she snapped her eyes to Stan— "You said I reminded you of a turtle." A smile found its way onto her face as she remembered the day at the Quarry. She wished she could go back. Fuck, she really wished she could. "Think of the turtle . . . and the birds. Think of them. They are the opposite of It. The turtle is everything good. It stands no chance against it. Remember that."

"What if It wins?" Ben suddenly said, turning around to face the three of them. "What if all of that shit doesn't matter and It wins?" He slapped his hands against his thighs and shook his head.

"It won't," Mike reassured, his face kind and gentle. "Because we have each other." He glanced at all the remaining Losers and smiled a wide smile with teeth and everything. It was nice, comforting even. "We can do this together."

Beverly scoffed. "And what if they die in there?" she asked, turning around to face them with a solemn expression plaguing her features. "We should be in there. All—" she jabbed a finger at each preteen— "of us."

Jill stepped forward. "They're going to be okay, Bev."

Beverly shook her head and huffed out a breath of air. "I know you don't believe that bullshit," she stated, firmly. Jill stepped back in silence. She couldn't deny the truth. Even if she had told Stan all that bullshit, she only believed half of it. Yeah, there was a chance they could all make it out with happy endings, but the world was cruel and nothing ever worked out the way she wanted it to.

"Hey, come on," Mike interjected. "We'll be okay."

It was silent for a moment before Beverly sighed. "We should be in there with them," she said, jabbing a finger at the monster smiling behind them. "They need us. This isn't some fairytale. We make our own endings. We have to run towards them. We have to fight. And standing out here like sitting ducks is not going to get us anywhere and it sure as Hell isn't going to help Bill or Richie or Eddie if any of them get hurt in there." She straightened her posture and jutted out her chin. "So I vote we go in there."

The Losers looked at each other, eyes wide and conflicted. Ben shifted his weight on the balls of his feet and Beverly was doing this thing where her face turned as red as a tomato. Mike and Stan stood huddled together as they watched the rest of the group. And Jill . . . well, Jill was looking at Beverly. She needed her. She needed her to help her, and Jill couldn't help but give in to the redhead's pleading blue eyes.

Jill opened her mouth to say something, but a loud ear-piercing shriek rang throughout their ears. Her eyes widened and her heart thudded in her chest as it registered in her mind that the scream had come from inside the monster's mouth. Their friends were in trouble. They had been swallowed whole by the monster and it was up to the remaining Losers to drag them out of Hell.

Jill whipped around, heart beating out of her chest. "What the fuck was that?" she spat, her voice filled with unease.

No one spoke. No one moved. The silence felt deadly. But Beverly wasn't going to stand there and let the silence wrap them in its cold embrace. She had to save the others. They had to do it together. It had to be the eight of them, not five or four or three. They wouldn't make it unless it was eight—their lucky number eight. And she wouldn't have some demon clown knocking that number down to seven or anything less. "Don't just stand there!" She turned on her heels and ran toward the monster's mouth. "Come on!" Her figure disappeared into the darkness of the house, swallowing her whole.

"So much for voting," Ben groaned.

The four of them took off after Beverly, fighting against the fear bubbling in their throats. Their feet were moving forward but their minds were frozen. Their thoughts were vacant, creating a void where their knowledge of right from wrong should have been. There was no helping them now, their logic had flown out the door the moment they took their first step inside the Well House.

As Jill stepped inside the monster's mouth, she realized Beverly was gone. Her essence was nowhere to be found and immediately, Jill's heart dropped to her stomach. She took a step further into the house and found herself aching where It had hurt her. Her throat felt strained and sore like It's hand was still wrapped around her neck like a noose. It was as if walking into the house of horrors had brought back all the hauntings, the memories, the pain . . . everything. It brought back everything that had happened that summer, and she found herself trying to focus on the condition of the interior to tear her mind from the pain. But the black mold plaguing the walls only reminded her more of the bruises that once stained her skin.

"I can't," Stan sputtered, shaking his head. His breathing quickened as he took a step back.

Mike turned to him. "It's going to be okay, Stan. Just breathe," he whispered, wrapping his arm around Stanley's shaking shoulders. Jill wanted to do something more. She wanted to help him, but she was too focused on anticipating her next moves and how exactly she was going to find Beverly in the house.

Jill turned to look at the three boys. "I'm going to find Beverly," she stated, her voice firm. "You guys find the others." With that, she turned on her heels and ran through the intestines of the monster's stomach. She could hear the boys calling out for her, but she couldn't listen to them. She had to find Beverly. She just had to.

As Jill ran into another hall, she caught a glimpse of Beverly's red curls just before the ginger whirled around a corner of the rickety house. She followed after her, slightly panting when she turned the corner, but instead of seeing Beverly, she was met with a door covered in black mold. The brunette stretched out her hand to rest above the doorknob as she breathed out a shaky breath and tried to calm her nerves. She dared to grasp the knob and slowly turn it until a click sounded, letting the girl know the door was unlocked. She squeezed her eyes shut, welcoming the tiny stars that met her vision. She inhaled sharply before she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Her eyes stayed glued shut as she took another step into the room. The door slammed shut behind her, causing her to jump out of her skin, but her eyes remained closed. She breathed out slowly through her nose, trying to calm her heart from pounding in her chest. Open your eyes, Jill. Beverly could be hurt, she reminded herself. Her hands were clenched into fists now, her fingernails digging into the soft skin of her palms. She took a sharp inhale of the air, expecting it to clog her lungs but instead the stench of salt and fish infiltrated her senses. She furrowed her brows in confusion and fluttered her eyes open, but the scene before her was not one she was expecting. It wasn't even one she recognized.

The landscape of a beach portrayed itself before her, the sand stretching for miles. Jill scrunched her nose, looking at her surroundings in confusion. She must have been dreaming. Maybe she fell while she was running and knocked herself out. Because surely she couldn't be standing in the middle of a beach when she had just been in the Well House. Unless this was It playing tricks on her. No, she couldn't believe that. She just couldn't.

Cool laps of water splashed against her overalls, drenching the fabric so it stuck to her skin. The sun beat down on her head as she slowly walked along the beach, her shoes making footprints in the sand as she walked. She tilted her head down, observing the wet sand below her shoes. It was littered with fragments of white quartz, creating a dark gray almost black hue. And the water—it was so clear she could see the creatures floating at the bottom. It made her feel peaceful, not scared or angry. Her veins didn't fuel with fire, they thawed against the heat of the sun.

A chill shivered down her spine as a gust of wind blew past her, engulfing her in the stench of dead fish and saltwater. Jill laughed. It dawned on her that she had never been to the beach before, and there she was standing in the middle of an empty one. It made her want to sprint across the sand or dive into the clear water or even shout at the top of her lungs. But before she could even advance in any of those options, the sound of someone else's laughter rang through her ears.

Jill snapped her attention to the source of the laughter, her eyes falling on a woman standing just a few yards in front of her. She squinted her eyes to block the sunlight from messing with her vision, and stared at the woman. The woman was in her late forties, but you could just tell she was pretty when she was younger. She still was, there was no doubt about that. Her hair was the color of a chestnut. It was lighter toward the ends and darker at the roots, showing evidence she has dyed a lighter color to hide her dark roots. Her skin was milky white, but you could just tell by looking at her that she'd tan if she stayed out in the sun long enough. And her eyes. Her eyes were a pretty hazel or maybe they were a light brown . . . Jill couldn't really tell. She had this beauty mark on the apex of her cheek which adorned her overall appearance. And for some reason, Jill felt like she knew this woman. Like she had seen her before. And then the woman smiled, and Jill knew exactly who stood before her.

Jill slumped forward and let out a subconscious sob. "Mom?" she whispered, her voice hoarse and weak. Tears pooled in her eyes, blurring her vision as she continued to stare at the woman before her. A few tears spilled down her cheeks, but she quickly wiped them away to clear her vision. "Oh my god, mom. You came back. I can't believe . . . " She inhaled sharply and tried taking a step forward, but it seemed she was walking in place. But Jill didn't notice this and kept trying to walk toward her mother. "I knew you would come back. I knew you'd come back to get me . . . " She suddenly halted as confusion struck her. " . . . but why are you here? Why am I here?" She kept asking question after question, but it was as if her mother couldn't even hear her speak. Like Jill wasn't really there.

A gust of wind blew past Elizabeth Phenny, brushing her hair out of her face. She had aged since the last time her daughter saw her or maybe it was the fact that Jill was eight when her mother left and an eight year old's mind wasn't the most reliable thing in the world. Nevertheless, she was just as pretty as Jill remembered her. Jill wanted to tell her that and say sometimes she saw her mother's features in her own face. She wanted to tell her she wasn't just her father's daughter, but her mother's too. She wanted Elizabeth Phenny to be proud Jill resembled her, but the more she tried to run toward her to tell her of her thoughts, the farther she seemed to get. It was like one of those stupid dreams where you're running but you never get anywhere. Like you can move but something's pushing you back, keeping you from your destination.

Jill wanted to wake up. She wanted to wake up and find her mom sitting right beside her, cooing her back to sleep. She'd sleep and dream of something nice then. The kind of dream that pleasantly kisses your eyelids and you wake up feeling refreshed. Jill hadn't had one of those dreams in a long time. At least, not since her mother left.

The brunette made one last attempt to reach her mother, but the woman began to walk farther away from her. Jill ran until her legs felt like melted butter, but it was no use, she hadn't moved. "Mom!" she croaked, pressing a hand against her chest as if it would cease the ache. "I'm here! Where are you going?" Her mother didn't seem to hear. She just kept walking. "Mom, I'm right here! Turn around! I'm here, mom! I'm right here!" Her throat felt raw, causing her to cough which only made the taste of metal infiltrate her taste buds.

Jill opened her mouth to scream again when Elizabeth stopped in her tracks and turned to face the ocean. For a split second, Jill thought she had finally heard her, and her heart inflated with hope like a balloon. But then more laughter sounded from the ocean, and two little boys emerged from the waves along with a man (probably their father). Jill didn't have enough time to process the scene in front of her before the two boys gripped onto her mother's waist and engulfed her in a hug. The man came up behind them, smiled at her mother and then planted a kiss against the woman's lips.

Jill felt her heart throb in her chest. "No! No! Stop!" she screamed despite her throat being dry and raw. She felt like crying, now, and maybe she already was, but she didn't notice. She just kept running and running but she never caught up to them. She fell to the ground, her hands digging into the wet sand as she sobbed. She watched through blurry vision as the view of her mother and the three males disappeared into the distance of the beach. "Mom! Wait! Don't leave me!" She choked on her sobs and fell into the waves. They slapped against her back, but she didn't care. Her mother had gotten a new family and forgot about the one she left behind. Maybe It was right. Maybe her mother never wanted her, but Jill still needed her mom despite all the times she denied it.

As time seemed to stop, the silence consumed her, leaving her with the sounds of the waves slapping against her body and the sobs escaping her lips. She was alone. The sound of the ocean only reminded her of that fact. She realized she might have always been alone and she was just pretending she meant more than she actually did. Her mother clearly didn't seem to care about her. She had forgotten all about her and replaced her as soon as she could. Jill Samson was replaceable. Maybe Beverly would replace her too.

"Sunshine," a voice suddenly whispered from behind her, ripping her from her mind.

Jill whipped around, wiping the tears from her eyes to see Beverly Marsh standing above her with her hand held out in front of her. Her eyes drifted from Beverly's face to her surroundings, and that was when she finally realized she was back inside the Well House. She was in a room in the Well House; a room with a fireplace and remnants of a couch. She supposed it must have been the family room of the house before it turned into the nightmare on Neibolt Street. It took a few seconds for Jill to register the beach with her mom was a mirage put on by It to trick her. And she had fallen for it. Fuck.

Her eyes snapped back to Beverly. "Bev?" she hesitantly questioned before she grabbed her hand and pulled herself to her feet. She let out a sob and rushed forward engulfing the redhead in a warm embrace, but Beverly didn't hug back. Jill didn't seem to notice as her eyes roamed around the room and took in the black mold, but she didn't care about that, she was looking for the clown. "Bev, I think It's playing tricks on me." Her hands twisted in her hair. "I was at the beach and my mom was there, but she—" She cut herself off and brought her eyes back to the redhead. She expected her to say something or do anything, but she only stood there as still as a statue. "Bev?" She shook the ginger's shoulders. "What's wrong?"

Beverly's vacant eyes snapped to hers. "Did mommy leave, Jill?" she asked, maliciously. Jill found herself nodding which made Beverly smile wide. "What did you expect? Of course, she'd leave you. Everyone leaves you because you're a worthless piece of shit." Her words were poison in Jill's veins.

Jill shook her head. "You're not you," she murmured, her bottom lip trembling. "You wouldn't—"

Beverly tilted her head to the side and laughed. "I wouldn't what? Say that? Aw, sunshine, don't look so blue," she mocked, tapping Jill on the nose. The action wasn't filled with innocence, but rather malice. "Your mother left you. She didn't even care, because she hates you. Everyone hates you. I hate you. Bill is so much better . . . and he's a great kisser, too."

"Shut up," Jill whimpered. That evoked something in the redhead. A laugh bubbled from Beverly's throat, crashing against Jill's ears like a drum. She instinctively covered her ears and took a step away from the girl.

Beverly took a step closer. "I'll always choose him over you. Always. You'll never be the one anyone picks first. Even daddy wishes you were gone. And can you blame him? You're always such a bitch. You're a worthless bitch, that's what you are and you'll never amount to anything more." Her eyes raked down Jill's stature with a sinister grin stretched across her face. "You think you're so different from kids like Henry, but you're not. You say he'll be selling drugs when he's older, but did you ever think who he'd be selling them to?"

Jill closed her eyes and tried focusing on the stars, but Beverly's voice rang in her ears. "No!" she shouted and clenched her hands so hard, her fingernails dug into her palms.

"You, Jill," Beverly spat as she shoved Jill's shoulders, causing the girl to stumble. "You'll poison yourself for years and years and you'll go so low, you'll buy drugs from Henry Bowers. You'll be nothing more than a hopeless addict, lying and stealing just to get a high."

That was when Jill opened her eyes and saw the monster in front of her for who it really was. Beverly's skin was pale and sickly, almost like it had been painted on. Her face was a mask used to lure her in. The monster had had its first taste of her and now it wanted more, but Jill knew this wasn't real. It couldn't have been. Just like her mom and the beach weren't real. "This isn't real," she chanted at the monster impersonating her friend.

Fake Beverly smirked. "But it is," she sneered. "And you know what else is? How much of a loser you are, and how much of a fuckup you'll become. You really think I'd choose you after that? No . . . I'll be married to Bill while you're sleeping on the streets shooting heroin into your veins."

Jill clasped her hands over her ears. "No," she spat, her voice gruff and hoarse. "You're wrong. because this isn't real . . . just . . . just like the beach and my mom. It's not fucking real."

Laughter bubbled from Beverly's throat. "But aren't I? Aren't I real, Jill?" She began to laugh louder, the vibrations shaking the room. Her body convulsed, thrashing around as the room continued to shake. Her face peeled from her skull, revealing the mask of a clown. It tore the clothes from its body and a clown costume peeked out from underneath the girl's clothing. The human arms dropped to the ground, being replaced by the large limbs of It. "Is this real enough for you?"

It rose to its feet, towering over the young girl with a devious smirk etched across its pale face. Jill stared up at it in fear. Her body was frozen, her blood running ice cold through her veins as she tried not to let out the scream manifesting in her throat. "Go away," she spat. She stepped away from the monster, but her foot smashed through a hole in the floorboards and she fell, her body smacking the ground. She frantically looked at her foot, expecting it to be broken, but it was just stuck. She didn't know whether to feel relieved or not, but she didn't have enough time to process it before It stomped toward her and grabbed her face.

"Come on, Jilly," It spat, shaking her face in its hand. "Just one little taste and I'll let you go." It grinned, revealing its set of sharp teeth stained with blood—blood from kids she probably knew. She'd be forgotten like them if she didn't do something quick.

Jill's eyes darted around the room, searching for anything she could use to injure it. She caught sight of a fireplace poker left in the ashes of the fireplace. Her eyes connected with It's as she watched it inhale the scent of her fear. It snapped its eyes open, two yellow eyes boring into her brown ones. She whimpered.

It grinned. "Are you ready to float?"

Jill pulled her foot from the hole in the floorboards and screamed as loud as she could. She used the sudden surprise of her actions to crawl past It and grab the poker. It whipped its head in her direction and shuffled after her as It unlocked its jaw and widened it to swallow her whole. At the exact same time, Jill rose to her feet and charged toward It. "I said no!" she shouted, plunging the poker into It's chest.

It stumbled backward, clutching the poker sticking out of its chest with one of its claws. It slowly pulled it out of its chest, flinging it to the ground. Blood seeped from the wound, but instead of soaking It's clothes, the blood floated. "You broke my heart, Jilly," It abruptly muttered, glancing up to lock eyes with Jill. It's face morphed into a frown as it mimicked someone crying, but It had never known true emotion. It only cried crocodile tears. "You broke my heart!"

It dramatically cried, shoving a shaking finger at her own chest. Jill glanced down at what It was pointing at, and she realized the clown was gesturing to the scar on the skin above where her heart would be. She briefly remembered the time she broke the part of her rib next to her heart. She had almost died. It was going to kill her for trying to kill it if she didn't get out of there fast. But she didn't have enough time to think about running before a shrill scream erupted from It's lips, and it charged toward Jill.

Jill let out a scream of her own as she turned on her heels and ran toward the door. She swung it open and slammed it behind her before she took off running down the halls. She didn't even look back to see if It had followed her, she just kept running until she heard a scream which sounded an awful lot like it had escaped from Eddie's lips. She took off in the direction of the scream.

As Jill rounded a corner, she caught sight of the top of Bill's reddish-brown hair and sprinted toward him. Her feet thudded on the floorboards as she came to a halt and gripped onto a doorway leading to the room she had seen Bill in. She charged into the room but froze when she saw It crouched in front of Eddie who was backed up against a wall holding his arm which appeared to be broken or maybe dislocated. It was staring at Bill and Richie who stood only a few feet away from her. The boys didn't seem to notice her presence, but It did.

It giggled. "Welcome back, Jilly!" It twisted its neck, flashing a set of sharp teeth. "Come to join the boys?"

The three boys turned to look at her, fear embedded in their eyes. Jill looked at Richie first then her eyes drifted to Bill. They had both saved her once before and now it was her turn to return the offer. She stepped into the room but immediately pressed her back up against the wall when It whipped its head at her. She froze against the wall. She had to save them, but she couldn't bring herself to move. She squeezed her eyes shut and focused on the stars that appeared when she squeezed too tightly.

She heard It speak. "Is this real enough for you, Billy?" It taunted. "It was real enough for Georgie." It let out a mocking laugh before silence consumed the room.

Jill snapped her eyes open, hoping It would be gone when her vision focused, but just as she registered the scene in front of her It sprung after Bill and Richie. The two boys screamed and fell into each other, but just as It's jaws were about to lock on their flesh and bones, Beverly charged out of the other room and stabbed It through its head with an iron rod. The blood floated to the ceiling just as it had Jill stabbed it through the chest. It seemed to be in some sort of trance as it stood still and whimpered, but Jill knew it was faking it. It couldn't feel pain. It was pain.

Beverly stumbled backward into Bill as It continued to cry crocodile tears. A few yells erupted from the group cowered in the doorway opposite of Jill, but she barely heard them. Bill, Richie, and Beverly rushed past It and fell down beside Eddie to assess his arm so they could get him out of there with just a broken arm. But Jill didn't move. Everyone else appeared to be trying to get the hell out of the Well House, but Jill couldn't. She felt like she was sinking into the floorboards, her body being consumed by the monster. Her eyes were wide open as she watched in horror as It swiveled around, lazily moving its injured head. The sharp teeth that once were covered by a mask of red lips were split open and oozing with blood. It hobbled toward the kids cowering on the ground, causing them to scream. That made It grin as it whipped out its hands, revealing claws instead of gloves. The clown growled like a wolf hungry for blood before it whipped around and slashed Ben's stomach with the rod sticking out of its head. The impact made Ben stumble into Mike, taking them both to the ground. Mike tried to shield Ben from It as Stan backed away from the scene and cowered in the doorway while the tension in the room rose.

Richie tore his attention from the scene and looked at a petrified Eddie. He grabbed his face in his hands, making sure all Eddie saw was him and not the hideous monster approaching them. "Eddie, just keep your eyes on me, okay?" he yelled. Eddie nodded, tears leaking down his cheeks.

Jill pressed herself against the wall, wishing she could disappear. Samsons ran away from fear. Sure, she had fought for the most part, but she was so fucking scared. So scared she couldn't even move. Her arms were stiff and she felt like her lips had been sewn shut. And all she could do was watch in horror as It wreaked its terror.

It manically giggled, gliding backward as if it were floating. It bowed like this was all some game and they were forced to witness their friends being tortured. Jill watched as It floated toward the door beside her. She jerked away from the door, trying to create as much distance between her and the clown as she could. It only gave her a sinister grin and tapped its chest where she had stabbed it before the creature disappeared down the hallway and left eight preteens to deal with the aftermath.

The sound of Richie's voice ripped Jill out of her paralyzed state. "Bill! Where are you going? We have to help Eddie!" he angrily shouted.

Jill tore her eyes from the empty hallway just as Bill approached the door where It had disappeared. He made an advance to walk into the darkness, but Jill wrapped her hand around his arm and pulled him back into the room. He angrily looked at her. It was perhaps the angriest she had ever seen him. "Don't," she muttered as tears threatened to spill from her eyes. "It's gone. Don't . . . please."

Bill's hardened features softened, but they quickly hardened once again. "It's nev—never gone," he spat, looking into the darkness of the hallway.

The piercing sound of Eddie's scream ripped Jill and Bill from their thoughts as the two of them turned to see Richie trying to comfort Eddie. Jill glanced down at the boy's arm, finding it to have been snapped back into place, but the pain would never leave Eddie's mind. He'd always be haunted by it; like a phantom limb, he'd awake in the middle of the night and feel this indescribable pain coursing through his arm. Jill still felt It's grasp on her neck. She was sure she always would, and now Eddie would, too.

Jill swallowed hard, turning her head to look back at Bill and the darkness before him. She thought about what he said for a moment and let her thoughts carry her away. He was right, she knew that much. It would never be gone; It would never leave them. Whether It haunted them in their dreams or if they'd wake in the middle of the night and feel the pain of It's grasp, they'd always be plagued by the monster.

The moment they stepped into the Well House, It had its first taste of them, and now it was hungry for more. And if Jill knew anything about monsters it was that they didn't like to starve.

a/n: i know this has zero detail but it is one of my favorite chapters! also i know i can't write horror or suspense, pls don't bully me!!!

thanks for reading!