SickLove || Pennywise X Reader || Book Two || ON HOLD

° Chapter One °

  ▆ ▇ █ November 7th, 1998 █ ▇ ▆
                    Ten years later

The slender child peered out of the small slit of the sewer drain, his eyes lay half lidded to keep the harsh Sun rays from burning his irises.

His slight cock-eyed stare planted on his recurring neighbor.

His eyes couldn't help but to widen at her youthful appearance, the corners of his lips curling into a dazed and innocent smile. He tilted his head to the side before uttering a single word with his soft, trembling voice: "Pretty..."

His gaze traveled from the girls face and down her body- not sexually, but curiously.

He was mesmerized by her facial features, the glow in her light hazel-green eyes. Her short, wavy hair swung frantically against the small breeze of the outside world.

He couldn't help but to slowly, gradually extend his over stretched arm out of the sewer opening. His arm gliding across the rough paved road.

He let out a startled gasp and retracted his arm, he held it against his chest as he processed the car that had just driven by and nearly flattened his lanky limb.

A small sigh of relief escaped his red lips before he hesitantly spun himself around, and stalked through the sewer tunnel; making his way back to the den.

His wide, clueless eyes scanned the large opening that contained what he thought to be an endless pile of presents for him when he finally proved to his- what's the word?

Papa.

That he wasn't as ditzy as he thought.

The tall child bit his plump bottom lip and began to fidget with his slightly deformed hands, "Papa?" He called out, his heart rate picking up at the sound of his own voice bouncing off of the damp sewer walls.

He waited a long, quiet moment before a small whimper escaped his maw. He began to pout as he stalked towards the walls of his home, he pressed his slouched back against the mass and slid to the floor.

He lowered his black clawed hand to the cement flooring and ran his talons across the hard ground. He found this specific spot important, as he had been told that his Mother would stay in this single spot almost all the time.

The child considered this part of his den to be special, it made him feel as though he was still connected to his mother.

Oh, how he wished he could meet her.

He wondered what she was like.
Was she pretty?
Was she polite?
How did she act around his Papa?
How did she act when she first held him?

Had she even had a chance to hold him?
___________________________

His eyes burst open, finding himself sprawled across the cement floor. He slowly sat up, only for his gaze to be met with with a small feline corpse in front of him.

He gasped and looked around, "Is Papa home?!" He called out, in desperate hopes of an answer.

Still- silence.

He sighed, lowering his hands to the dead Cat in front of his large body. He lifted the limp body and gave it a sniff, he jerked his head away in shock.