.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
【 𝐈𝐍𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 】
vi. the lucky eight
THAT NIGHT, AS THE REST OF DERRY SLEPT PEACEFULLY, Verity Summers was woken up by a strange noise coming from upstairs.
She jolted up in bed, wondering where the sound was coming from.
It sounds like.. crying?
Grabbing her flashlight, she padded out of her room to inspect it.The ladder to the attic hung down, looking eerie in the dark.
She paused, listening. It's coming from up there.She ascended into the dusty silence of the attic, and noticed how loud her heart was; beating away frantically as though hoping to escape her chest.
"Is there anyone up here?" She whispered, casting her gaze to the corner where an old rocking chair stood.
I remember how Isaac used to love that old thing, she thought wistfully, remembering how he'd giggle whenever she played with him. How he'd look up at her and say-
"Verity,"
She spun around, eyes widening in shock.
It couldn't be, she thought wildly. It's impossible.Her brother stared at her, his face uncharacteristically blank, which sent a chill creeping up her spine. She gazed at him, dumbstruck at the ghost standing before her. He looked... different. Changed, somehow. He was dressed in the same sweater and pair of jeans he had worn on that rainy day, all those months before; but it was his face that was the most unnerving. His eyes were dull, void of their usual cheeky gleam, and his skin was deathly pale."I've come back," he rasped, causing Verity to step back in alarm.
"You- You can't have-" she stammered, "I saw them bury you,"
He smiled, and there was something wrong about it, something manic.
"I've come to bring you with me, Verity. To a place where we never grow up.. where we float. We can be young forever... we don't have to be big kids anymore,"She wanted to run but she couldn't. Her feet were firmly planted as the thing that wore her brother's face moved towards her. "Isaac- This isn't you talking... it's the clown, isn't it?"
"Come on Verity, join us. Play with us. Float with us." The thing giggled, ignoring her words as his face twisted into a grotesque smile.
"No," she said weakly, shaking her head. "You are not my brother,"
He stopped laughing, face falling as his lip trembled in faux-sadness. "This is your fault," he stared at her, tilting his head to one side.
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𝐈𝐍𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒 | 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐬 ¹✓
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