CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Bill's mind was not the thick fog that it had been when he had been possessed before, but it was not the same place that belonged entirely to him, either. There was some mixture going on…some struggle. Maybe not something that Bill had been consciously aware of, but something that had probably been going on for quite a while. While It had been strong enough to block me out entirely before, now It was having trouble staying in at all.
Counter-intuitively, this meant that It was closer to having complete control. Now, it was spending a lot of energy on Its physical form, but when that died, It would live in his head. And then, there wasn't much hope. Hardly any at all.
His mind was not something that could be completely sorted out by my mind, so my mind took the surroundings and changed it into something physical that I could understand: a bare room, with several doors. If I turned away from a door, it seemed to disappear, because when I turned back, it left only the wall. But new doors were appearing, and we were by no means trapped.
Before, I had compared entering his mind to a cave, but that was only a simile, comparing how I felt to his mind. But his mind had never before looked like something physical. This was more like a metaphor: it wasn't like a room; it was a room.
The others were grouped around me in a loose circle, and I awkwardly stepped back to join their circle instead of standing squarely in the middle of it.
"We need to work fast," I said to the others, and was surprised when what I had only intended to think to the others took a physical sound. Not only that, what I intended to be a whisper seemed to carry all around, as though riding on a wind, carrying far enough to worry me that It may have heard.
"It h-heard you," Bill said from behind me.
"Bill?" Beverly said, shocked. We all whipped around to see Bill standing at the edge of the room.
"Are you Bill?" Richie asked, his eyes wide and paranoid. "How do we know?"
"It's c-coming," Bill said. "There's n-no t-t-time…"
If it had been outside of his mind, it would have been obvious if it were him or not. But in his mind, which he was now being forced to share with his greatest enemy, it could have just as easily been It. So without thinking, I looked into his mind, to see if he was really Bill.
When I looked into his mind, I saw my surroundings, and saw myself looking into his mind. It was like looking out a window, only to see yourself looking out a window, facing a different direction. I saw myself, and got sucked in, and then it was like being in a row of mirrors, with lines of thoughts laid out to eternity. I saw myself seeing myself seeing myself seeing myself…I zipped along, and just kept going and going, looping over and over until…
"Th-That's enough."
This thought seemed to pierce the loop, and Bill forced me out of his mind.
"Real…" I mumbled, so the others could know that this was, indeed, Bill.
"We nuh-need to go," Bill said urgently.
"Why aren't you back at the clubhouse?" Ben asked.
"L-Later," Bill said curtly. He chose a door and swung it open. Inside was a long hallway. He started walking. Eddie quickly followed him. The rest of them looked at each other as I stood up, and then the rest of us followed along.
"I d-don't know if it's s-s-safe for th-the rest of y-you," Bill said, "but it's th-the best I c-can do. I nuh-know it's s-safe for me."
"Bill, we can't just hide," I said, frantically trying to reason with him as he walked quickly through the corridors of his own mind. "We need to fight it off, and soon."
"We nuh-need time to t-t-talk," he said. He opened a door and stepped inside a room. Eddie, who was following, stopped just outside, and bounced back a little.
"Ow…" he said, and raised his hand, and put it against where the door, if closed, would have been. It flattened out slightly, as though it were pressing against something solid.
"God D-Dammit!" Bill exploded from inside. "You c-c-can't get in, can yuh-you?"
Eddie shook his head and looked down, as though he were worried sick that Bill were angry at him.
From behind me, I heard a light, scuttling sound. It got closer and closer, and I looked down the way we came. At the end of the long hallway, a spider rounded a corner, and looked at us. It saw us.
In that instant, I understood that It was the spider, or at least, It looked somewhat like a spider. My mind was sorting things out and breaking things down so that I could understand things. It was not really a spider, but It was close.
"You should probably stay in there, if it is safe," Stan said to Bill, not having yet seen the spider. But as Stan turned around, he looked as though he would sell his soul to be able to join Bill.
"N-No," he said. "I c-can help."
I glanced, again, down the hall. The hall itself seemed to stretch out on and on for miles, but It was making Its way down like something shot out of a cannon. We had, at best, thirty seconds before we would have to fight.
"Bill, if you die here, then everything's going to collapse around us, and we're going to die," Ben said, as though he understood this as well, if not better then Bill.
"I d-d-d-don't think th-that It…"
As he talked, I glanced quickly down the hall again, cursing that his stutter had come back, full force, at such an inconvenient time.
"…will k-kill me. It's sh-sharing my muh-mind."
"And that's exactly why It will kill you!" I shouted. "You should stay in there and save yourself!"
The ominous scuttling sound had stopped. We all looked down the hall, and It was still there, but It was not moving anymore.
"It's dying," Eddie said quietly.
"When It's dead, It's going to be here, all the way," I said.
"Let's get It while It's down," Beverly spoke up.
None of us needed telling twice. We all ran down the hall towards It. While It had seemed much too close before, It now seemed very far away. We only ran for a minute, but by that time, all of us were out of breath.
"Bill?" I asked. "Are you going to make us something that can kill It? This is your mind."
"H-How?"
"Dunno. Try something. Anything!"
Bill closed his eyes, and curled his fist. Suddenly, a dagger's point jutted out, and Bill was holding a knife. I looked again, and saw that it was really a jagged rock. It looked so much like a knife, however, that the mistake was easy to make.
"Ey, Bill, ain't cha goin' tah make somethin' for us tah use?" Richie asked.
"I d-did," Bill said, not taking his eyes off of It. I didn't know what to make of his statement, so I put my hands in my pockets. And there, I found a jagged rock-dagger of my own. I pulled it out as Bill slowly started walking towards Its empty husk.
"It died," Eddie said. We all wheeled around and looked at him.
"What?" Mike asked dubiously.
"It died," Eddie repeated, his eyes glossy, his face a blank slate. "And It's coming back now."
"Th-Then we need to h-huh-hurry," Bill said, and turned to deal a blow that surely would have killed It. However, It woke up then, and It swung Its two front legs up in an X to block the blow. It then threw Bill backwards. Bill flew back and hit a wall. Blood began to drip from his nose.
Bill shakily stood up. He stuck out one hand, and a sword suddenly appeared in it. He charged at It, and Beverly and Eddie (who snapped out of whatever trance he was in) moved forwards to help, but then It was gone. The rest of us stood together in a huddle. Bill walked towards us, and as he did, he created a sheath, and put his sword away.
"Y-You all should p-p-probably get out of here," Bill said. "I d-didn't nuh-know how to fight It b-before, but I c-c-can now."
"Shit on that," Beverly said fiercely. "We came here to help, and that's what were going to do."
"Yah, common' Bill, you think we're going to let you have all the fun?" Richie asked.
"I j-j-juh-just think th-that…"
"Anyone want to leave?" I cut in, asking the others. I glanced over at them all.
Stan looked pale and frightened, but there was also a grim resolve on his face. It had not been there a second before, but it was there now. Stan was not leaving.
Eddie seemed to have developed some kind of connection to It, one at least as strong as the one he had developed to Bill. He knew how useful he was to us, and he would not leave Big Bill; not for the world. Eddie was going to stay.
I did not even have to wonder if Beverly was going to stay. She looked like she was impatient from just standing around talking. Beverly was a fighter, and that's just what she aimed to do.
Richie, although he seemed scared, had already voiced that he wasn't going to leave. And with him, voices were everything. He was in.
Ben, I imagined, would not have left for anything if Beverly were here. Besides that, he was dependable and strong, whatever else he may have seemed to be.
Mike may have been a bit more of a mystery to me, but from what I knew of him, when he was in, he was in all the way. There was no half-and-half for him. He had started, and he aimed to finish.
A moment of silence followed my question. Eddie triggered off his aspirator down his throat, and Richie pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"We're in this together, Big Bill," I said. "You give us what we need, and we'll fight with you."
I saw a strange look in Bill's eyes, some emotion that I hadn't seen before, but he quickly blinked it away.
"Okay," he said. "I th-th-think I nuh-know where It ih-is. S-Stay close, and r-r-remember that th-this is just as muh-much Its mind as it is m-mine."
"We're here for you, Bill," Beverly said.
We formed a loose line, and followed Bill through the corridors of his mind. We had not gotten far, however, when Eddie fell to his knees, gasping for breath. He quickly grasped for his aspirator, and pulled the trigger on it.
"Y-You okay, Eh-Eddie?" Bill asked him. Eddie just looked up and shook his head. He tried his aspirator again, but he continued to gasp for breath.
"What's going on?" Ben asked anxiously. "Is…is It doing this?"
"I think…" Mike started, stopped. "I'll be back," he said, and disappeared.
"Where'd he go?" Stan asked anxiously.
"I think he left," I said. I glanced at Eddie nervously. He was doubled over now, with one hand on the ground, the other clutched around his chest. Bill and Beverly were down on their knees, too, next to him. Bill had his hand on Eddie's back, and Beverly was saying something that sounded soothing and comforting. Whatever it was, it wasn't working, because Eddie was still gasping for breath.
Suddenly, Eddie took a deep breath, and stood up. Whatever had just happened, it was over.
"See, Eddie, you're okay," Beverly said.
Eddie nodded. "Yes," he managed to get out. He triggered his aspirator down his throat again, even though he seemed to have no trouble breathing.
'I think I'm going to need some help getting back,' Mike's voice suddenly spoke up in my mind.
"Mike?" I asked in my mind. But again, as before, my mind-speak carried into regular talk.
'Yes, I can't get back.'
"What 'choo talking 'bout, Willis?" Richie asked. I shushed him with a waving gesture.
'Eddie…well, when he left his body, it was balanced up, but it fell forwards, on to a pillow. I put him back up. Is he okay?'
"Yes, he's fine now. How'd you know?"
"S-Sara, you know something th-th-that we d-don't?" Bill asked.
"I'm talking to Mike," I told him.
'What?' Mike asked. Apparently, he also heard me when I spoke aloud. It was like trying to hold two separate phone conversations on two separate phones at once.
"What was he doing?"
'I just assumed that…'
"Is he coming back?"
There were so many voices in my head, I thought I was about to scream. Instead:
"I'm going to get Mike now," I said quietly. I blocked out all the voices, and focused my mind back into my body. I snapped back suddenly, and found myself back in the clubhouse.
The first thing that I was aware of was the darkness. I glanced up at the window, and saw light streaming in. I looked away…darkness. I was reminded of coming inside after I'd been out in the sun, swimming or otherwise. My eyes had always violently constricted, and, being blue, refused to dilate for what seemed like forever.
"Hey, you taking us back?" Mike asked. I whirled around, trying to find him, trying to see. I realized that his eyes were brown, and he could probably see just fine.
"Uh, yes," I said, my eyes wide open. I could only just make out his outline.
"What's wrong with you?" he asked.
"Can't see very well," I said. "My eyes are blue, which means that I have night-blindness."
"But it's not night."
"It's too dark. It was better lit in his mind."
"I can see fine," he said.
"I don't know if I can get you back if I can't see," I said, my voice suddenly turning fearful. And why shouldn't it? I had no reason to be calm, with all the others trapped back in Bill's mind, where It could attack at any time.
"Should we go outside?" he asked.
"I don't know how safe that is," I replied. Still, though, I considered his thought. "How did you contact me?" I asked, changing the subject.
"It wasn't that hard. You're, well, hard to miss. Mentally, anyways."
I tried to contact Bill then, but since he was inside of his own mind, he was, in a way, locked off. And none of the others had enough power to receive me, so I gave it up after a minute.
"Can you see any better now?" Mike asked.
"No," I said. "I think we need to go outside, like you said."
"Okay." he flipped up the door, and bright light streamed in. He turned his head for a minute, but his eyes adjusted quickly, and he looked over to me.
"That's probably enough light, actually" I said. I stepped into the square of light, and pulled Mike smoothly into my mind.
'Now how to get into Bill's mind…' I thought to myself. I glanced around the rest of the clubhouse, which was now completely shrouded in darkness.
'Pull him into the light,' Mike said from the back of my mind.
I frowned at the open door, wondering exactly how safe it was to stay in here with an open door if we were unconscious. I pulled it shut, and the window let the sliver of light in again.
'I can't see him, though,' I told Mike. 'I don't know where he is.'
A sudden image flashed in my mind, one of the clubhouse in the light. I knew that it was how Mike had seen it just a minute before.
'My God, they all look dead,' I said. I felt my way around, and found a hand. I figured it was Bill, and dragged him into the light. Sure enough, it was Bill. I found my way into his mind, weaving my way around the blocks he had set up in my path. After a minute, I was in, and a second later, Mike was with me. I closed my eyes and covered them with my hands, as I had when I was near the Deadlights. My eyes were slow to adjust from the real light of the clubhouse to the well-lit corridor of Bill's mind.
"You all right, Eddie?" Mike asked.
"Yah, fine," Eddie said. He had stood up again, and he was not shaking or gasping. "What happened?"
"It wasn't your asthma," Mike said. "You fell forwards onto a pillow."
Well that broke Richie up for nearly a minute. The rest of us watched him with half-amused smiles as he laughed.
"You're serious, aren't you?" he asked Mike, and broke out laughing again.
"Beep-beep, Richie," Eddie said, and Richie immediately threw himself to the floor.
"Alright, when does that wear off?" Richie asked, picking himself up. He was not quite sober, but that, at least, had calmed him down some, and the hysterical laughter seemed to be gone for the moment.
"When I take it off," I told him. We had started moving again, following Bill.
"Aw come on! You're telling me that it isn't just going to go away?"
"Yes, pretty much."
'What is this?' I thought to myself. 'What sort of power is this? If I were doing anything like this with any other group, even my own group at home, we would not be like this. Not be able to be like this. How can we be talking and joking…and having fun?'
"Why does that still work?" Ben asked, yanking me out of my thoughts. "I mean, it's something that you made Richie do, but none of are really us anymore, are we?"
"I think that what we are now is mind," I said, speaking slowly as the thoughts came to me. "Just…just a core essence. And that's where everything about us is, isn't it?"
"I guess so," Ben said. I watched his eyes, and I did not see that click that I had seen when he had really understood something. He didn't understand, and even I felt like I only had a slippery grasp on it, like trying to hold a greased fish.
"It's c-c-coming," Bill said, stopping suddenly. We all stopped, and we listened. I thought I heard something, only for a second, but then all of the lights simultaneously went out.
"Bill?" I asked, my voice penetrating the darkness.
"I'm nuh-nuh-not doing th-this," he said, sounding as shaky as I felt.
The temperature suddenly dropped, and the clean smell that the hallway had held faded into a rotten, sewer smell. On instinct, I reached out and touched the wall. It had turned to stone. The temperature had dropped about 20 degrees, and the stone was smooth and cold.
"Well, folks, I think we're back in the sewers again," Richie said.
A common phrase from my time occurred to me: get your mind out of the gutter. I clasped my hand over my mouth to prevent myself from laughing aloud. I was either about to start screaming or braying hysterical laughter that would never stop once I allowed it to start.
"Are we all here?" Stan asked quietly.
Each of us, in turn, answered an affirmative. But as each of us answered in turn, the voices drifted further and further away.
"G-Get together, all of y-y-you!" Bill shouted suddenly, realizing what I just had.
"Where are you?" Eddie asked. His voice sounded like he was down a long hall.
"We need a light!" Beverly shouted. I could barely here her.
And then…silence.
"Is anyone there?" I asked quietly. I was expecting, or maybe just desperately hoping to here one of them respond, with a shaky voice, but happy to not be alone.
But there was nothing.
And to top it all off, the song that It had implanted in my head before was playing in my head again. I felt the hysterical laughter surfacing again, because I was scared. I thought I could just snap at any minute.
I laughed once, and forced myself to stop. But then I began to sing.
"I backed my car into a cop car the other day
Well he just drove off sometimes life's okay.
I ran my mouth off a bit too much: what did I say?
Well you just laughed it off it was all okay.
And we'll all float on okay
And we'll all float on okay
And we'll all float on okay
And we'll all float on anyway
Well-"
I heard a soft chuckling. There was nothing happy about that sound. It was demonic and full of malice. I stopped singing, wondering what had ever possessed me to start. I felt delirious and wild.
"You'll float on, alright," It said. I knew that It had taken the form, again, of the clown. "In the Deadlights. Great place to float. All expenses have been paid, you just pack your bags and off you go!"
I tried to return back to my own mind, as I had when I was chasing Mike, and I almost got through. But as soon as I was almost out, I snapped back, like I had been running through a rubber band, with the tension getting tighter and tighter until it pulled me violently back.
"You can't run, and you can't hide!" It shouted. I turned and ran anyways, into the darkness, away from Its voice. It followed, however. And it slowly closed in. It took Its time, but I knew that It was getting closer and closer.
I ran into a wall, and quickly turn right and kept on running. I ran into another wall before I started running with my hand outstretched.
'Your hand at the level of your eyes…' a random line from The Phantom of the Opera slid across my mind, then dropped off, leaving me with nothing but blind panic.
I bounced off another wall, and turned left this time.
Running in the dark. This, above all, would have to be my worst fear. If I could not see my enemy, then it may take whatever proportions that it may choose to. There are no limits to how scary it may be. Fear poured out of my veins in streams. I would have been angry, at It, for getting me into this, and at myself, for letting myself being pulled in without a fight, but I was simply too scared to feel anything else.
I became suddenly certain that I was just running in deeper and deeper, and then It would get me much easier. I could here It behind me, slobbering and growling like a rabid dog. But I forced myself not to think, not at all, because if I did, then I might start having second thoughts about what I was about to do. And then, all would be lost.
I forced myself to stop running, forced myself to turn around, and forced myself to stop panting. I heard It slowing down, but still closing in.
"I can't see you," I said, trying to get my voice to get as powerful as Bill could. "But I can fight. I know karate. Maybe not much, but I can still give you one hell of a fight. And I know a hell of a lot of Aikido. So go ahead. Give me your best shot."
It had stopped growling and making those animal-like noises that it had previously, so It could listen to me, I assumed. But as I stood back in a karate stance, I realized that I was alone. I began to walk forwards, the way I came. I expected to run right into It, and I resolved to fight like hell until I got away…or until I was dead. I refused to let the fear back in, and I roughly shoved in other emotions in its place: anger and resolve.
I did not run into anything. I was truly alone. However, I was lost, now, in the caverns of Bill's mind. I closed my eyes and started walking.
I thought as I walked. I kept my thoughts firmly away from It, from the chase, and directed it instead to my previous times in Bill's head.
I hadn't gotten lost in his head. Ever.
"But It was already here, wasn't it?" I asked aloud.
'Yes, yes it was,' I answered myself. 'But you still didn't get lost. The only reason you're lost now is because you think you're lost.'
I stepped on something knobby and stick-like then. I almost fell over, but righted myself quickly. I picked it up, and, unable to see it, just felt it.
'It's in the dark. It can be what you want it to,' I thought.
'Very well then. It will be a wand. Just like the ones in that Harry Potter book series.'
"Luminous," I said aloud. I couldn't exactly remember if that was the incantation for light, but apparently, my belief that it was the word was enough even if it weren't the word, because the tip lit up. It was just a small light, but it was enough for me to see.
Now that I could see, I had a vague idea of where I was, and began to walk.
'I guess I do have at least some power over his mind.'
'He probably has some over yours, too. But that's not important now. You need to find the others, or they could die. I don't know why It left you alone, but the others might not be as lucky.'
'Who am I looking for?'
'Who needs you the most?'
'I think maybe Stan or Eddie will need someone the most right now. The others will be okay.'
'Eddie will be okay. He knows his way around Bill's mind, and he can find his way most places, anyways. I think it's Stan you need to worry about.'
'Where is he, then?'
Whatever inner voice that I had been consulting with stopped talking. So I just started walking, and as I hit each junction in the hallway, I took whichever path looked the best. I knew I was on to something, even if it wasn't Stan's trail.
However, as it turned out, it was. I found him slumped against the wall, unconscious.
"Stan?" I said. He did not stir. I looked him over, and on his arm, through his sleeve, I saw blood.
"Stan!" I shouted. I ran to him, and as I did, the lights flickered, just once, and turned black again. They showed a hallway again, but when they went off, my light showed the stone walls again.
I considered this for a minute, but shrugged it off. I pulled up Stan's sleeve, and I found a deep, bloody gash. I stared at it blankly for a minute before I realized what had done this. The wound, this one among others, was a peck mark. Although they looked painful, they, in no way, looked dangerous or deadly.
This bothered me for a reason that I could not put my finger on. There was the obvious discomfort of this whole situation, but for some reason, the peck mark just seemed wrong…or different somehow. It shouldn't have been a peck.
"It should have been the dead kids," I said suddenly, aloud. Stan stirred as I said this.
"It was always the dead kids for you, wasn't It?" I asked Stan.
"Yus," he said, sounding confused and more then a little dazed.
"Yes," I said musingly to myself. "The bird…that was Mike's. And even when It was chasing me…" I had started to pace, and Stan struggled to stand up.
"It wasn't the phantom figure," I continued. "It was Richie's werewolf.
"They're all property of the Loser's club," Stan said. He had stood up, and he let his hand, which he had been using to support himself, fall from the wall it had been leaning against. "It can use any against us."
"But why would It do that?" I asked. "Why use each other's horrors instead of our own?"
"I don't know," he replied.
The lights flicked again, and the dungeon-like surroundings that we were in flicked back into the lit hallways of Bill's mind. This time, they stayed on for about a minute before flicking back. When they did so, the wand that I had been using disappeared.
"I think Bill's doing something," Stan said in the darkness. "I think he's trying to get it back."
"We need to get the others," I said. "Or we need to help Bill. We need to…do something!" I felt panicky and desperate.
"We need to think this through," Stan said. He also sounded like he was fighting back panic. And I realized, almost too late, that he sounded like he was drifting away.
"Stan!" I shouted. "It's doing it again! It's tearing us apart!"
"What?" he asked, sounding confused and very far away. I panicked then, and dove for his voice in the darkness. I ended up tackling him around the middle and pulled him down on top of me. On the ground I grasped for his hand. We continued to drift for a minute, and I felt the tension between our hands. But he tightened his grip around my hand, and the consistent tugging slowed, and then stopped.
"You alright?" I asked him. I lay on my back, my hand in his, and looked up.
"Yah," he said. "I'm okay. I think…I think you tore my shirt." I realized that whenever It was in control of our surroundings, the floor was dirty and rocky.
The lights flicked on again, and suddenly, we were in the hallway.
"We need to get moving," I said. "Now that we can see."
"Sara?" Ben's voice drifted down the hall. He appeared at the end of the hall. "Stan?"
"Ben!" Stan shouted. The lights flickered then, and again. They did several times, and each time, the darkness lasted a little longer.
"They're going to go off again," Stan said nervously.
"Ben, c'mere," I said. "Quickly."
He began to walk towards us, but the lights snapped off again.
"No!" I shouted, enraged. "I wont let it!" I concentrated all of my power; ever bit I had, on flipping the lights back on. I fell to my knees, held my head, and forced the power out of my in waves. The lights did not snap back on, as I had hoped, but slowly lit to a dim lighting. The walls were a nightmarish combination of the cold stones and the wooden and plaster of the hallway, and the floorboards were ripped away in many chunks to reveal dirt and grime.
"Get over here now," I directed to Ben. I did not look up to see if he was coming, but trusted that he would. I felt him lay a hand on my shoulder, and I let the power off. I grasped Ben's hand in one of my own, and Stan's in the other. I stood up.
"We need to stay together," I said quietly. "I can't keep the lights on for long."
"What's going on?" Ben asked. He did not sound too scared, but more curious.
"We don't know for sure," I replied.
"We think Bill's at battle with It now," Stan explained.
"And the lights?" Ben asked.
"I think that the lights, when they're on, means that Bill's winning," I said. "But when they're off…"
"We need to help him," Ben said.
"I think we need to find Mike and Beverly and Eddie and Richie, first," Stan said.
"We need to…" I started, and the lights flicked on, reveling to us Mike and Beverly, who were holding hands. Beverly was out in front, and she blinked her eyes rapidly, adjusting to the sudden light. Mike, however, looked to us.
"Hi," he said, sounding surprised. Beverly snapped her gaze to us, also. They let their hands drop, and walked towards us.
The lights flickered, once, and I glanced nervously up, but they stabilized.
'Driving me crazy…' this thought drifted across my mind. Somehow, I didn't think it was one of my own. I knew it was not Bill's, because then I could tell that it was him…
"Where's Bill?" Beverly asked me, snapping me out of my thoughts.
"I don't know," I replied. "I don't know much of anything right now."
'Damn it, Richie, could you just shut up?' the same voice drifted across my mind, and I recognized it as Eddie's. I quickly looked around, catching every detail of where I was, and sent the image to Eddie. I felt a slight drain in my already-low energy, and I felt Eddie receive it.
"Well what are we going to do?" Mike asked. It was not directed to me, but I answered anyways.
"I think we should wait…I think Eddie and Richie are coming soon."
"You know something we don't?" Beverly asked.
"I contacted Eddie, and told him where we are," I said. I thought about what I had just done, and I had no idea how I had done it. If I was to contact him, in this form, then I would have to actually run up and talk to him. But it seemed that my mental-form had a mental aspect to it, too, instead of just a physical representation.
The lights flickered again. We all quickly grasped hands in a circle, waiting for them to go out. They flicked a few more times, and then stabilized.
"Are you sure he knows where we are?" Stan asked me.
"Pretty sure," I said.
The lights flicked off again.
"Help me…" I mumbled. I knew the others heard. I forced my strength out again, and forced the lights back on. I realized, dimly, that my power was not actually going to the lights, but to Bill, and the strength was enough to help him keep It back, enough to keep this mind his, consequently keeping the lights on.
But the specifics didn't matter. What matters was that the lights stayed on, solely with my help at first. But I felt the others opening up, letting the power run through them to me so that I could ship it out. I felt it leave in a steady stream.
'How much longer is this going to last?' I thought distantly.
"What you all doing?" a voice belted out down the hallway.
"Richie, could you please shut up…"
I ignored them while they walked across the room to us, keeping my focus solely on keeping the lights on. Because if they were off, then there would have been no point of them getting this close at all.
"Eds here told us just where tah go, and here ya'll are!"
"Join the circle," I instructed, feeling connected, solid. Feeling, even slightly possessed. I looked up briefly to see Eddie and Richie join the circle between Stan and Ben. When all their hands linked, I felt something so strong that it was nearly physical race through us.
"Bill is everywhere," I said, the words flowing free of my mouth with none of my own thoughts to direct them. "This is his mind…and he is everywhere within. However, there is another now. For It is here, too. Bill is fighting a valiant battle, but he will loose without us. He is only one of us, but it is we that make up the whole."
"We're here," Beverly said softly. In the context, it could have meant a number of things, but we all understood what it really did.
"We can help," I said. I felt something flow around us again, and then it channeled off, leaving us with an incredible amount of force. Then that force drained, and I forced the remainder of my own power through it.
The lights flashed a brilliant bright light, and then the fluorescents exploded outwards. Someone let go then, and there was a sudden break in power. Before this processed in my mind, I continued sending out the sheer quantity of power, only it was my own I was drawing out of. I cut it off as quickly as I could, but it was not fast enough. All my strength left my legs, and I started to fall…
down…
(where's the floor? why am i still falling?)
down…
I snapped awake in the clubhouse.
"God damn it!" I shouted aloud. The others had not yet woken up, and their bodies were strewn across the clubhouse like corpses. I didn't know for sure if It was dead. I quickly stood up and ran over to Bill. But everything seemed to have taken a very dream-like quality, and it was like running on a conveyer-belt. I ran faster and faster, and then, finally, I reached him.
I glanced back, briefly, to look over the few feet that I had run in what seemed like several minutes of sprinting.
I looked down into Bill's eyes, but for some reason, Richie's glasses were on him. I tried to get into his mind anyways, but the glasses just got thicker and thicker until I couldn't see his eyes at all.
I quickly knocked them off, and when I did, Bill's eyes were gone. Two spiders crawled out, reveling twin lights from each of his eye sockets that their plump bodies had hidden before.
It was the Deadlights, and when I looked into them, Bill was there.