"I have to go,too," I spoke up, my voice barely above a whisper. "My mom's waiting for me." It was only half the truth.
I went around the circle, giving each of my friends a tight hug, saving Ben for last. I tried desperately to keep the tears from...
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•°Corinne's POV°•
"Corinne, don't forget to invite Ben over for dinner." My mom's voice pulled me from a fitful sleep, another in a string of unpleasant dreams that had plagued me since our fight. In the weeks since, Ben was the only one I'd seen. The rest of the Losers felt like a ghost limb—a constant, aching absence.
"Yeah, sure. I'll tell him," I called back, dragging myself out of bed. Mom appeared in my doorway, already dressed for work, a soft smile on her face. It was a smile I was still getting used to. "I'm off. I'll see you later, okay?"
I looked up at her, and a sudden, cold feeling of dread settled in my chest—a premonition so sharp it made my breath catch. I got up and wrapped my arms tightly around her waist, holding on like I was a little kid again.
"Please be careful," I whispered into her shirt, my voice thick with an emotion I couldn't name.
"Oh, Cori. I'm just going to work," she said, laughing softly and rubbing my head.
I pulled away, forcing a smile. "I know, Mom. I still just want you to be careful." It was the only thing I could say. How could I possibly tell her a shape-shifting killer clown from my nightmares was real and that it might be after me and everyone I cared about?
The front door clicked shut behind her, and the silence of the house descended. It wasn't a peaceful quiet. The unsettling feeling didn't leave; it intensified, coiling in my gut. The air grew thick and cold. I felt a prickling on the back of my neck—the unmistakable sensation of being watched.
My eyes were drawn to my closet. The feeling got stronger with every step I took toward it. My heart began to hammer against my ribs. I stopped inches from the door, my hand trembling as I reached for the knob.
I didn't need to open it.
Two familiar, jaundiced yellow eyes blinked open in the darkness within, staring directly at me.
A small, black spider skittered over my foot. Then another. They began to pour out from every conceivable crack and corner of my room—from under the bed, from the vents, from the shadows behind my curtains—a skittering, clicking tide of them, all moving toward me.
His laughter rang out, not from the closet but from everywhere at once, a guttural, wet sound that vibrated in my teeth and made the hair on my arms stand straight up.
They had me boxed in. There was no escape. The spiders swarmed over my feet, my legs, their disgusting, prickly feet a nightmare against my skin. I was trapped, claustrophobic, the laughter echoing inside my own skull now.
The panic was absolute. My heart seized in my chest, a painful, frantic drumming. I couldn't breathe. Black spots bloomed in my vision, swallowing the horrible sight of my room.
The last thing I knew, deep in my fading consciousness, was a single, terrifying thought: I'm blacking out. And I had no idea what would be waiting for me when—or if—I woke up.
•°Ben's POV°•
Corinne was an hour late.
She was never late. A cold knot of anxiety began to tighten in my stomach with each passing minute I waited on her porch steps. Something was wrong. I could feel it.
The sound of frantic footsteps made me look up. Bill and Richie came sprinting down the street, their faces pale and streaked with tears and dirt.
"Ben!" Bill gasped, skidding to a halt, struggling for breath. "What's wrong with you two?"I asked, jumping to my feet.
"It has Beverly," Bill choked out, his eyes wide with pure terror.
"What?" The word was a punch to my gut.
"It got Beverly," Richie repeated, his voice hollow and shaking. "It took her. Right from her bathroom."
My body went cold. If It had Beverly after what we'd seen at Neibolt Street... My mind spiraled into the worst possibilities. I didn't think. I just moved, shoving past them and breaking into a run.
"Ben, wait!" Bill yelled.
I didn't listen. I had to get to Corinne. I sprinted straight to her house, their shouts fading behind me. The front door was unlocked. I burst inside.
"Corinne? Cori!" My voice echoed through the empty, silent house. I checked the kitchen, the living room—nothing. My heart hammered against my ribs. I took the stairs two at a time and shoved her bedroom door open. It was halfway open, the room beyond dark.
Empty.
The bed was unmade, but she was gone.
"Ben, what's going on?" Richie asked, finally catching up, panting in the doorway.
I couldn't speak. My eyes were locked on her wall. Scrawled across it in a thick, dripping, black substance that smelled like rot and pennies was a message. A threat. A promise.
YOU DIE IF YOU TRY.
My entire world didn't just freeze; it shattered. The clown hadn't just taken Beverly. It had been here. And now Corinne was gone.
