Oranges and Lemons.
WitchBetterHaveMyCandy.
Summary: After Georgie's disappearance, a trail of missing children cases follows but with no bodies or leads found. All the cases go cold. A mysterious girl joins the Losers' Club over the summer. Can she help them kick the Clown Prince's ass back to the darker sector of the multiverse? What's a girl to do when the Eater of Children and Worlds takes a particular interest in her?
Tags: Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Angst, Goremance, Non-Consensual, Dark.
Notes: My first IT fic. Based on the 2017 remake and parts of the novel. This fic does not follow all events of the original story. Patrick HockstetterxOC, ITxOC. Reviews and Constructive criticisms are most appreciated. Thank you!
Chapter 1: Don't Talk To Sewer Clowns.
The rain descended slowly over a modest community in Derry. A fifteen-year-old girl named Oksana (Ana) Rose Surkov occupied her late father's prized piano, performing softly for her uncle as the rain trickled down the windowpane behind her.
A vintage butterfly clip held her dark, voluminous curls up off her shoulders. She nodded her head softly to the tune of her music, causing an errant curl to slip from the old clip and dangle over her right shoulder.
Her eyelids drifted over her smoldering violet eyes while she played. One hand crossed over the other while her delicate fingers stroked the keys. Her uncle, Vladimir Surkov, sat across from her. He appreciated her performance as he did on most rainy days.
His cold wintery eyes examined the progression of her melody and those delicate fingers of hers. His hand produced a glass with amber liquid swirling within it. His thin, sensual lips caressed the glass. His eyes never left the girl as he tipped the brandy into his mouth.
Ana watched him sip it from the corner of her eye nervously. Her uncle gave a soft praise as the mood of her melody darkened slightly. Her heart quickened in pace, but her fingers remained steady against the keys. The portrait of her departed mother and father, Bridgett and Nikolai Surkov, dangled on the wall behind her uncle. She swallowed nervously at the two sets of painted eyes that bore into her.
Her heart ached painfully at the memories of them. Finally, she couldn't bear it anymore and tore her eyes from their likenesses. The Surkov couple mysteriously vanished two winter's ago, leaving their daughter in her estranged uncle's charge.
Vladimir hadn't met the girl more than twice in the span of her life. Feeling distrustful of Vladimir after the funeral, Ana tried looking for other's who would take her in, but her mother's side of the family wanted nothing to do with her. Now, she remained here with him alone.
Often a lonely man, Vladimir deemed drinking and other crude acts a fit way to cope with the pain of losing of his only sibling and sister-in-law. He loved Bridgett dearly and living in a world without her ate at him. At times, Vladimir forcefully included Ana into his crude activities.
Ana, however, loathed him for the most part. Only once did she let her guard down around him, and that ended terribly. The whisker burns on her face and bites on her neck from last night told her as much. He'd neglected to shave before he attempted to violate her.
Georgie.
A little boy in a bright lemon slicker sang an old ship song as he raced down Jackson Street. The voice belonged to The Denbrough Family's littlest boy, Georgie. The small paper boat he chased sailed faster than his little legs could carry him. He'd lost SS. Georgie due to the fast traveling rainfall washing it down the street.
"No!" He shouted as it slipped down the drain.
He quickly knelt down on the wet asphalt, wetting his dark jeans. His small brown eyes peered into the mysterious damp depth of the sewer below. He'd lost SS. Georgie now, and there was no way he could get it back. His brother Billy would be furious at him.
"Aw, Bill's gonna kill me," muttered Georgie.
A brief movement in the distance drew Georgie out of his moping. He looked further into storm drain noticing something standing there in the dark. Just as he moved his face a tad closer to the sewer, two glowing yellow eyes appeared. Georgie jumped back startled. An owl? A coyote? Georgie just didn't know, until a voice suddenly called out to him.
"Hiya, Georgie! What a nice boat! Do you want it back?" Greeted the shadowy clown standing in the sewer below.
The idea of a clown didn't seem very realistic to Georgie, though the boy was only of his sixth year. He was unsure what the heck a clown was doing in the storm drain during a day like this anyway.
It reminded him of a Twilight Zone episode he and his dad watched once. The child observed the clown with curious eyes.
IT's skin appeared paper white, almost waxy save for his painted nose and lips. His silky ruffled tunic and breeches resembled a Victorian fool's wares, almost archaic in a sense. The clown's orange crescent-like hairline started far back due to his elongated head, and more of his hair sprouted out from each side of his head just behind his ears like horns.
The clown noticed the child studying him and decided to act. The corners of the sewer clown's mouth pulled back, his uneven lips parted in a wicked smile that barred two long pointed incisors. The little boy gulped audibly at the gigantic teeth.
Georgie uncomfortably viewed the copious amounts of saliva that ran down the clown's thick lower lip. The comic's hypersalivation didn't seem to affect the coloring of his makeup at all. The sharp red color progressed from the corner of his full mouth, dipping up over his cheeks and through the centers of his wicked eyes.
"Um, yes, please?" Georgie answered timidly. He stared at his paper boat within the salivating clown's gloved hand. The smile on the clown's face was overly friendly, but his haunting stare portrayed something else altogether. Almost, starvation.
"You look like a nice boy, do want a balloon too, Georgie?" The odd clown offered. The color of his sunshine yellow eyes changed to a glowing orange, then a feral red. They blazed dangerously out against the shadows, causing a sense of unease in the boy.
"I'm not supposed to take stuff from strangers," Georgie replied nervously. He was afraid of the clown, and he had every right to be. As if sensing the child's unease, the bloody color of clown's odd eyes immediately cooled back to the orange tone. He didn't want his prey to get too frightened too early.
"Oh? Well, I'm Pennywise The Dancing Clown!" The clown exclaimed with a twitch of bemusement. His extraordinary maraschino grin broadened against his smooth waxy cheeks.
"Pennywise, yes," he said to himself slowly as if testing his own words.
"Meet Georgie! Georgie meet Pennywise!" The clown chuckled wildly. The floaty manner of speech made the child giggle back in delight. Georgie's immediate distrust for the clown lessened somewhat, but he remained cautious.
"Now we aren't strangers, are we?" Pennywise proposed cheerfully, almost deviously.
Ana.
Ana's song was about to come to a climax when a tendril of creeping distress wrapped around her. Her fingers went stiff, hovering above the keys. A negative entity's energy slammed into her, taking her breath away.
She leaned forward against the piano, and her luscious lips parted for a gasp. Her brows pressed at the noise of screeching in her head. Something evil laid beyond the rain, one of extreme malevolence.
"Что (What?)," her uncle inquired sternly in his mother tongue.
"Ничего.( Nothing.)" Ana denied quickly. Her voice sounded unusually quiet that Vladimir had almost strained to hear it.
The attractive silver-haired man hesitated, recognizing his niece's terrified expression. He swiftly rose from his chair, discerning the way she stiffened as his shoes scuffed the floor. Vladimir approached the window then he beckoned Ana over.
She hesitantly rose from the bench. She patted out her black button-up dress and walked over. She stood at her uncle's side facing the window as he did. They listened to the rainfall with Ana half expecting another bell of evil to go off in her mind.
"Whatever your senses are telling you to do Oksana, ignore it. Do not listen today. Let it be," Vladimir warned sternly.
"You know about my gift?" Ana questioned in surprise, turning to him.
"Your father had it too," he returned but remained facing the window.
"Why didn't he tell me?" Ana wondered out loud.
Vladimir glanced down at his niece with a perverse smile. He couldn't help but appreciate how beautiful Ana was. He'd almost had her last night, but she realized his intentions early on. His fingers wandered across her collarbone, and ever so softly danced up her neck. Fear filled Ana when he began to stroke her cheek softly. His light touches disgusted her.
His brother's daughter was the embodiment of an angel, and her talents were exceptional. Soon her body would ache for more carnal delights as women's bodies did, and he would guide her on her path to womanhood.
Vlad's teeth sunk into his lower lip as he forcibly took her chin within his grasp. He stroked her plump lower lip with his thumb tenderly. It pleased him that Ana didn't struggle, for he had half a mind to ravish her if she tried to deny him.
Oh, how Vladimir longed to have her. He didn't want to choke back is passions for her any longer. Why should he? She was an orphan, and nobody wanted her but him. He'd been the only one willing to take her on both sides. Her delicious, young, flowering body was right here, and it looked appetizing enough to make his mouth water.
Ana pushed his hand away from her face and glared up at her uncle. He smirked wryly at the rose-red tint tickling at her lovely cheeks. Vlad knew the color of lust all too well. He drew closer to her with a predatory look in his eyes. Ana tried to back up, but the window behind her prevented her from escaping. The cat and mouse shit was over.
"O, Маленький "голубь (Oh, little Dove)."
Ana felt Vladimir's breath fan out across her neck. A gasp rushed sharply from her lips, and her heart accelerated in her chest as his strong hands found the sides of her torso. A whimper left her as his sinful fingers crept down her dress. Vladimir's lips curved in approval as thumbs brushed the underside of her plump breasts. Dread filled her belly like lead, accompanied by a sickening burn she didn't understand.
"Дядя, нет! Пожалуйста, не надо (Uncle, No! Please, don't)!"Her hands shoved desperately at his chest.
Vladimir disregarded her and maintained his wicked exploration. He caressed the sensual dips of her hips. A grin played over his mouth as he watched her tremble under his touch. His fingers grasped her dress and started to slide it up her milky thighs. Her shallow breathing only spurned him further as his hungry mouth caressed its way down her neck.
"How could you? How could you," she said frantically. She twisted her fingers into his wintergreen shirt to stop his movements. Tears fell down her rosy cheeks.
Run Ana! Help us!
Ana tore herself from Vladimir's embrace and darted for the door, much to her uncle's surprise. He chased her, his hand grasped her by her arm. He tried to subdue her, but and kicked him and slipped out of his grasp. She threw the door open and ran outside despite her uncle ordering her to stop.
Her heart pumped violently in her chest as she took off in the rain. She didn't care what consequences running from Vladimir would bring, as long as she got out of that house and away from him. Her heavy rain-soaked hair broke the weak clip. Her dark tresses tumbled down her shoulders, lower back, and her delicate face.
Hurry Ana! HURRY!
She paused to catch her breath and noticed her neighbor, old Mrs. Chadwicks wandering back into her house with one of her pet cats tucked under her arm. The old woman was deaf, so asking her anything would be useless.
Ana felt the touch of a hand on her back and turned around with her fists up in a defensive position. She found no trace of anyone or anything, but suddenly a force pushed her forward causing her to break into another run.
The teen girl rounded the curve of the street and saw a little boy in a bright lemony raincoat kneeling down by the storm drain, giggling. She quickly ducked behind a car across the street, praying she'd gone unnoticed. She viewed little boy with concern as his smile faded, and a look of unease followed.
"I should get going now," said the child.
Ana crept around the car but retained a considerable distance from the boy. She didn't want to draw the child's attention, especially not with the dark energy in the midst. She caught an eerie voice talking back to the boy just before he could leave. The strange timbre of the voice gave her chills.
"W-without your boat? You don't want to lose it, Georgie. Bill's gonna kill you!" Pennywise declared suddenly. His mouth had filled with so much salivation that he had to swallow a couple of times. His stomach thundered and ached. He had to eat, soon.
"Here, take it!" Pennywise encouraged, holding the boat up, but just out of the child's reach. The little raincoat boy hesitated, contemplating the words spoken. Georgie didn't know if he should trust the drooling clown in the sewer, but he didn't want Billy to be angry with him either.
"Take it, Georgie," Pennywise emphasized darkly. Georgie didn't notice the color of murder bleeding back into the clown's irises.
Georgie timidly stretched his small hand out for the paper sailboat in the clown's hand. Suddenly Pennywise seized his arm causing the boy to cry out. His frightened brown eyes widened as the clown's red mouth expanded and revealed rows of sharp glistening teeth.
Pennywise couldn't wait any longer. He drove his teeth deep into the child's flesh. The boy screamed while his blood gushed forth in the rain all over his lemony slicker and jeans. Pennywise savored the music of bones snapping, Georgie's blood-curdling scream, and the flavor of raw, fresh fear rushing down his throat.
The demonic clown's eyes rolled back into his skull in pure ecstasy at the flavors hitting his taste buds. For 27 years he waited to feed on the children of Derry, and this little boy was but a small part of a grand feast to come. Ana went white as a sheet at the sight of lifeblood squirting from the child's shoulder. Georgie fell back against the rain-soaked asphalt weeping in agony.
Ana's mouth fell open, and she sprang to her feet. Her shoes splashed through the rain. She had to cross the street to save the child, however, before she could make it someone grabbed her. She threw her head back. She gazed through her wet hair at the last person she wanted to see herself in the arms of, her angry uncle, Vladimir.
"I told you to stay inside!" He quietly scolded shaking his head. Ana parted her lips to retort, but Vladimir's hand clamped over her mouth. She threw her limbs around in an attempt to free herself, though this proved useless for his grip was like iron. He began to drag her back toward the house when they both heard a cry.
"Billy!" Georgie wailed one last time.
Pennywise chuckled as he dragged his meal into the sewer where more sharp teeth and suffering awaited him. Ana looked over Vladimir's shoulder with an expression of dismay, and his eyes followed hers. The boy had vanished. The telltale signs of what happened to Georgie were quickly being washed away by the rain. Ana's eyes found her uncle's and pleaded with him.
"нет (No!)! Вы должны забыть, что видели. Никому об этом не расскажешь (You must forget what you saw. You can not tell anyone about this)!" Vladimir whispered.
He knew, the bastard new and yet he let the boy die. Ana's heart dropped, and the voices that spoke to her grew silent. An innocent boy vanished because of her inability to save him. It's no wonder why nobody wanted her because she couldn't do anything right. Ana became resentful of herself as well as her useless gift. She didn't look at her uncle as he dragged her away from the scene.
The missing Denbrough boy soon became an afterthought as many other children started to vanish and his picture ended up on the bottom of the stack of missing posters. However, two people would never forget. Ana Sarkov, and Georgie's older brother, Bill Denbrough.
End.
Until the next time.
