Author Note: I thought for a long time how I wanted Pennywise's 'end' to be, and I think I'm satisfied with the result. I wanted him and Bev to have a final dialogue that really meant something. I still have two more chapters planned out as I want to end the story on a fairly positive note, as I'm a fan of the King stories where they end on a hopeful note instead of in tragedy, so stay tuned for more!
Enjoy!
In the basement of the Neibolt House, just above the sewers, Pennywise frowned as he stared down at his captive, the girl with the fiery red locks that looked like she had been kissed by the sun when she was born. She was beginning to be something of a problem for him and this had caused him to come to the decision to separate her from her other pesky friends. Wide, bright, shining blue eyes the color of a robin's egg stared back up at him, just a hint of fear in her eyes.
The smallest admission of fear. Good. It was going to have to be enough for him. With her hands handcuffed together and her mouth covered, the girl looked completely and utterly defenseless—in a strange way Pennywise kind of felt excited about if he were going to be honest with himself. This girl was a special one. Not like the others. Not afraid of him, or if she was, she was damn good at hiding the truth.
A challenge. That's what this young woman was. A challenge.
And Pennywise was never one to shy away from a challenge. Just knowing he could do whatever the hell he wanted to this woman made him feel entirely powerful—maybe more powerful than he'd ever felt in his life, and that included taking care of that stupid blonde bitch earlier.
Pennywise's heart pounded in his chest and his breathing rate increased as he realized he could literally do anything to the young redhead woman bound in the basement of the Neibolt House, which he had modified over the years of hiding, turning it into something like a labyrinth. He could kick her, break the woman's bones one-by-one, relish as her cries of pain filled his eardrums, or cut her pretty little face with a knife, make her one ugly whore if he was of a mind to, feast on her flesh, and yet…he didn't want to ruin her features, though his mind was screaming at him not to fight against his urges.
And something in Pennywise's mind told her she would take it, if judging by the fire in her eyes was anything for him to go off. This girl was brave, a strong one, not so easily shaken up or scared like all the others he'd dealt with in times past. He should have taken this young woman for himself the minute she set foot back in Derry, and he had waited too long. The clown had never so much as given it a second thought as to how fun it might be to steal her away and keep her hidden, to be his pretty little obedient plaything for as long as he wanted, because no one would find them all the way out here.
As Pennywise stared down his scarred nose at the girl who'd been nothing but a thorn in his side ever since she arrived in Derry, he could see the young redhead was trying hard not to cry, blinking back briny tears, every once in a while, an occasional grunt or squeak would escape her gag, but she was also trying to be subtle in her movements as she shirked away from Pennywise's groping hands as he squatted down on the basement's concrete cold floor and placed a surprisingly tender hand on her leg.
He had discarded his usual clown persona and was back to looking like Bob Gray so as to not frighten her. Normally, he would have jumped at the chance to scare her a little, but he wanted her sane for this. "Does it bother you?" he asked softly, feeling his voice lower an octave and go quieter than it usually did whenever he was around a new victim. Which was surprising to him. The kind of tone was new to him. The young woman made a muffled noise through her gag.
Annoyed, Pennywise reached up a hand and, with surprising gentleness, removed it for her. "Better?" he asked, a mock note of concern laced throughout his deceptively kind voice. He was rewarded with a withering stare. "Welcome, Bev," he said courteously, throwing out his arms as if he were inviting her into his home. "Do you like it?" he asked politely. "It's not much to boast of, but…living here for centuries, this place is a paradise for me."
Bev struggled to move and found she couldn't. Glancing down, she repressed a tiny groan. Wherever Pennywise had brought her and Ben, she had been carried into what looked like the basement, into a spare room. The strong scent of mold and dust filled her nostrils. She was bound in a chair and her hands trapped in a pair of metal handcuffs. No getting out of these without the key.
"Oh," was all she could muster up the energy to say. Bev felt like the room was slowly suffocating her, the air pressing down, as if she was drowning, but not able to do a damn thing about it. Beverly thought briefly maybe it would be better if she drowned. At least then, the nightmare would be over, but no, she had Ben to get out. As she looked at It's hulking, towering, and stocky form as he loomed over her, his arms folded across his chest, she felt a new surge of fear course through her veins, chilling her blood. They say there was nothing to fear but fear itself, yet in this world that was not true. Many things were worse than fear. The truth, for the young woman, in those words, was a warning that fear could change whom she was inside, make her compromise where she should stand firm. This fucking house—this fucking clown—were testing her limits, pushing all her right buttons until… Oh, fuck, she thought wildly. What the hell did he do with Eds and Ben?
"Wh…where's Ben? And Eds? What did you do with the others?" she demanded, groggily opening her eyes, struggling to keep her eyes open. No doubt the drugs he had injected her with upon rendering her unconscious were starting to take effect. Good. He smirked and relished in her shrinking away from him as much as she could with little victory on her part. The drug would enable her paralyzed.
Oh, not permanently, of course, where would the fun in that be? Just long enough for him to complete his work. Narrowing his eyes, Pennywise stared down at the whore who had caused him so much trouble. It might be funny just to slowly work towards getting her to cry. He was close to that point already. She'd gotten a little teary earlier the minute he had dragged her away from the dark-haired teenager she'd been with when he found them, but not a full on sobbing breakdown, complete with tears, screaming, shaking sobs, the works. Pennywise would have been lying to himself if he'd said that he didn't want to make the young woman cry more than anything right now. Just to see how easily he could do it. The women always cried, in the end, see much pain the girl could put up with, maybe even see if he could get the bitch to cry without hurting her at all, without laying as much as a finger on her at all.
"Safe," he answered at last, and for some reason, he felt that familiar tenseness in his shoulders begin again as he watched the young young woman's shoulders sag in relief, and she breathed an audible sigh of relief. Pennywise weighed the knife in his hand. It was no heavier than a kitchen blade, but would cut on first contact, even with minimum pressure. Its serrations were like waves, but not randomly, so like on the cheaper knives you could buy in a store. They would slide in smoothly and do maximum damage on the way out, like the barbs on a fishing hook.
At seven inches, he could easily keep it under his jacket when out and about meandering through the streets of Derry as Bob, not his only weapon, of course, but a useful back up in close combat, and he'd always found the human methods for ending a life rather entertaining. You could be as messy or as neat as you wanted.
For some reason, when he saw his reflection in the steel, his mind flicked to wounded woman bound and helpless in front of him, forced to a kneeling position on her knees. He hated it so when they died too soon, but he had to punish them. They were dirty, their ways filthy and wanton.
If his victims refused his teachings, Pennywise sliced them. Hell, he usually did that anyway. If they fought back, he cut even deeper, savoring their anguish in killing them slowly. He was firm and fair; they were whiny and without morals. He picked the girls for their painted lips and short skirts, he felt drawn to their high heels and long legs. They made him think bad thoughts, unclean thoughts. They made him lustful and unchaste, something within himself he despised.
"Why are you doing this?" Bev asked, careful to keep her voice neutral, eyes level.
It noticed her look and smiled, the smile not reaching his eyes, so…lonely. Was that even the right word? Yes. Lonely. There it was. "I've been wanting to share a dialogue with you, Bev, for a long time now. I've been watching you, pet."
"Why?" was all she was able to ask the man.
Pennywise growled. "Because I can, sweetness. That's why. You humans," here he spat the word as if it were poison in his mouth, "only care about physical attraction to one another and sex. You don't know what it means to really, truly love someone, do you? No. I thought not. There's a connection between "beauty" and "love," but not in the way our media would have us believe, wouldn't you agree, young woman? They tout a form of beauty that is simply aesthetic, something that could inspire lust—a thin replica of love based more in desire and conquest. It disgusts me, it really, truly does. All of you," he hissed as he ground his teeth, "you know nothing of real love. Not like…" But his voice trailed off and he didn't finish.
Furrowing her brow into a frown, Bev visibly flinched as she watched the man begin to restlessly pace the basement room, all the while twirling a pristine clean silver dagger in his hands. Where are you, Ben? Beverly thought, pained. "Wh…where's…." but her voice broke. Bev was rendered speechless. All she could do was stare and hope that she could find a way to break free. Even she could not guess what a man like this wanted with someone like her. She swallowed hard back past the lump forming in her throat as Pennywise continued.
"Safe. I told you."
Bev nodded, knowing if she spoke out against him, he would likely strike her, or even worse. He noticed her looking and smiled at her again, catching her off-guard. His smile was genuine; almost…dare she even think this? Kind. Sweet. "Ben, wh—where is he? What have you done with Ben?" she pleaded. "I—I want to speak to him, I need to know he's all right," she whispered, and the tenderness in the redhead's voice gave the creature pause, and…and…he was hardly aware he'd set the knife down on a nearby wooden table and had begun to dig his fingernails into the palm of his skin.
It took Bob Gray a moment to realize it was rage. The way she spoke the man's name with such a graceful gentleness, dare he even think for a minute that it was love, true love, like the voices in his head had always prattled on about, made his blood boil and course through his bloodstream just then.
Never before did a man's name sound like a curse. What made it all the worse was the way the cretin's name sounded on her lips. This—this bitch of a young woman had cried his name with such anguish that he felt his very blood boil and he curled his hands into fists to prevent himself from striking out at something, but then she said the brat's name again, even softer. That was the breaking point of his patience.
At that moment, Pennywise seethed and ground his teeth together, jaw locked, and he was blinded by a five-course serving of rage that tasted bitter, yet surprisingly satisfying. Pennywise reached out. He went to punch the young woman in the face. When his fist came into contact with the right side of her cheek, even he winced at the sharp cracking noise as her head whiplashed backwards and hit against the headrest of the chair. Bev let out a sharp yet soft cry of pain, and that only fueled his inexplicable ire more. He tried to shake the aching after taste, on the taste buds of his hand.
Much like coffee, its bitterness drew him in to take another sip knowing he would be more awake than before. There was a fresh black and purple bruise underneath her left eye already, that would yellow as it aged, and Pennywise knew it would stick around at least a week or two, and she kept her head tilted backward, and for the briefest of moments, Pennywise was tempted to run his palms along the smooth column of her throat, to really feel her skin, to see if it was as soft and unblemished as it really looked. He stifled a low growl in his throat and resisted the urge. It grabbed the back of her chair and tilted it backwards, her red hair falling back over her shoulders. He smirked as she continued to fight her bindings, but she wasn't going to be getting out of those anytime.
"Looking for this?" he taunted, holding up the key to her handcuffs before slipping it into the back pocket of his jeans. "Don't try to fight it, Bev."
He almost laughed at seeing the look of defiance in her blue eyes, but then what she did next set him on edge. She spat in his face. Red. All that filled his vision was crimson red. Burning rage hissed through Pennywise's body like deathly poison, screeching a demanded release in the form of unwanted violence. It was like a volcano erupting; fury sweeping off Pennywise like ferocious waves. The wrath consumed him entirely, engulfing his moralities and destroying the boundaries of loyalty.
It could envision Bev bleeding already for what she had just done. Never had one of his little playthings spat in his face before. This was a first, one he could not allow to go unpunished. Pennywise drew back his hand and backhanded her so hard across her pretty little face that even he flinched at the deafening crack. Not broken, no, but it would hurt for a while. He felt guilty, but he couldn't stop.
So many years of isolation and torment that sunk deep into his mind and added a fire-hot spice that completed the vexed dish he was serving, though he considered that little deed mostly finished as he had killed the ugliest. He had killed the little blonde whore, now it was her turn.
"S—Stop," came the young woman's plea desperately. He almost had to strain forward to hear her through her mumbling, her voice was so soft and quiet. Timid, even. Her tone was not fearful, and this gave him pause, so…he stopped. Pennywise watched, curious, cocking his head to the side as the young woman turned her head sharply to the left and spat a mouthful of blood off to the side. "You…don't…have to…do this…" she rasped weakly. "Th—there's still…time. Give this up. Flee."
He said nothing, and, no longer wishing to stand, looked around the room until he found what he was looking for. Bev winced as the loud scraping of the wooden chair he dragged across the room rang in her ears. His face remained neutral and impassive as Pennywise turned the chair backwards and straddled it in front of Bev, resting his chin in his hands as he regarded the young young woman with an inquisitive expression, as if she were an exotic animal in a zoo.
"I don't know what it was, th—that bent your life out of shape," the young woman began hesitantly, lifting her chin, jutting it out slightly defiantly so in order to look him in the eyes. "B—but maybe…I've been there too. Maybe I could help you. Rehabilitate you. You don't need to be alone. You…you don't have to kill anyone else," her voice came out as barely a whisper. "Let me…let us help you. We can…we can fix you. Get you help."
Pennywise froze, considering her words. "I'm sorry." His voice was solemn, no hint of malice or joking at all. "I'm sorry, but…no. It's too late for me," he spat, sounding disgusted with himself. "I'm trying. But I can't feel a goddamn thing," he growled. It regarded Beverly Marsh in silence for a moment. She really was quite a pretty little thing. He almost hated to ruin her face in a moment.
Almost.
"No…please don't do this…" Bev startled as she heard a muffled yelp from somewhere down below the loft. Ben, she thought wildly, and swallowed hard to quell the lump in her throat. Her throat felt incredibly dry and scratchy, and she wanted nothing more than a drink of water. "Wh…t—think about what I want. I—if you really claim to care for me like you say, then you would…let me go?"
"No."
She figured he would say that. Bev nodded mutely. Anything to stall him, keep him talking. Maybe…just maybe then…help would arrive, and they could all get out of there. "I do. Tell me…" If she kept him conversing like this, maybe whatever Ben was doing down there would allow him to get help.
Pennywise frowned. "Well, it's like…when you go under water, and you close your eyes. Everything in the world suddenly ceases to exist somehow. The only thing you hear is the beating of your heart and the thoughts on your mind, and if you don't reach the surface, you start to feel your lungs craving for oxygen, burning because you can't breathe," Pennywise growled, and Bev gulped nervously as she saw the briefest flickers of pure, unadulterated rage pass through his one good eye.
The young woman figured talking about where she had stabbed Pennywise in the eye all those years ago the first time they entered the Neibolt House to try to kill It was in fact a sore subject for him. She was trying her very hardest not to stare at the scarred, black empty socket that used to be his other eye, and she wondered what happened to him then. Bev watched as his lethal stare felt painful and piercing, as if his glare was tearing her heart apart. She looked down at her lap and rested her handcuffed hands on her thighs. Blood. Her own. She looked up at him again, this time, with widened eyes. A final glance at his furious eyes confirmed her possible outcome. Eventually, Pennywise would kill her.
The young woman watched as the killer's eyes misted over, as if he were remembering something.
Whether that memory was unpleasant or a happy one, Bev could not tell at all.
Pennywise let out a low, guttural growl from the back of his throat. "That's how I feel about everything lately," he said in a quiet voice. "I can only hear the echoes of past voices in my mind. Sometimes…it's hard for me to breathe, but the rest of the world doesn't matter. Nothing matters right now except... I just feel the beating of my own heart. Nothing less, nothing more. Your world, not to mention my own, never gave a shit about a creature like me, so why should I care about your pathetic earth?" Pennywise heaved a heavy sigh, resting his chin in his hands. "Your little boyfriend's an overbearing bastard, right?" Pennywise finally spoke up, seemingly interested in making conversation with his captive. Bev frowned. "No," he growled, jerking his head down towards the stairwell below. "Not that one. The other one."
Bev swallowed. To that, she didn't know what to say, so she thought silence was best.
Pennywise merely grunted in response. "My life would be a lot better off if I wasn't…here. Like this," he growled, gesturing with his finger towards his empty eye socket, and at the scar that snaked its way across his brow bone and ended at the curve of his lip, twisting the edges of his mouth into a permanent grimace which gave him a truly terrifying look, but…but…
Bev sensed there was more to Pennywise than he let on, and if she could just continue to have a dialogue with him, then maybe there would be no need for the night to end in bloodshed. The young woman flinched as she felt his hand drift downward, where it rested on her thigh as he scooted his chair that little bit closer. Pennywise noticed her look of trepidation and his lips curled into a taunting sneer.
"Run, run, run…that's all you ever do. You haven't changed anything yet, Marsh," he explained, feeling his voice go dangerously low and quiet. "You haven't saved any of them, Bev, and you won't. Not now, not in the next twenty years... What's done is done…"
"That's not true!" Bev shouted, feeling the beginnings of fear prick at her heart as she felt his hand move with surprising tenderness up her thigh. She flinched, not wanting to show this demon just how much he was getting to her, and feeling like she was doing a bad job of, because he noticed and his lip twisted upward into a mischievous smirk, his one good eye twinkling.
"Ah," he said casually, biting his bottom lip in almost a playful way as his fingertips grazed the column of her throat. "Yes. You're trying to remember your training," he mocked. "What's the regulation to cover this?" he taunted, settling his hand around Bev's pale throat. He glanced down at her thighs and regarded her torn and dirtied dress. "Hmm? See what your little boyfriend has done to you? He has made you a mess, Bevvy," he sighed, almost sounding…disappointed.
"Can't say this is my first time being tied to a chair," Bev snapped hotly, feeling her fear manifest as anger. "Though Tom never… never did that," she whispered, feeling her shoulders slump as she thought of Ben, hoping and sending a silent prayer to whoever was up there that Ben and Eds had made it safely back to wherever they came from, while they still could. "Get off."
"His loss," Pennywise answered simply, reaching up a strong hand and toying with a lock of her hair. "All the physical stuff…so dull," he drawled, now sounding bored. "So…old-fashioned." The It glanced down at Bev's knees and then to her restraints. "Your knees must be killing you," he admonished, feigning concern for the state of her well-being. He noticed Bev's gaze drift upwards towards his empty eye socket and he let out a dark chuckle. "Go on, then. Ask. I know you want to."
Bev bit her bottom lip, hesitating. "What happened to your eye, Pennywise?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"You did, don't you remember?" came his simple answer, and Bev's eyes grew wide and round. "You stabbed me."
She swallowed hard past the lump forming in her throat. She did indeed remember, not that she liked to dwell on it. "Please don't," begged Bev, and she hated the weakness that was laced throughout her voice. She swallowed as Pennywise drew closer, having resumed picking up the dagger he'd left on the side table, along with another set of instruments she couldn't and didn't even want to identify.
Beverly knew the fucking clown didn't even need such mortal instruments of torture, but maybe there was a sick part of his psyche that liked to explore it. Using knives on humans, and that's why he was doing this. Ben, whatever you're doing, please hurry, she thought wildly, doing her best to control the panicked look that she was certain was present in her blue orbs. "Y—you don't have to do this, Pennywise. You could take leave. Right now. I swear it. I—I won't tell anyone you were here. Y—you could…I'll say we were mugged and brought here by a couple guys."
At her desperate plea, Pennywise threw back his head and let out a short, bark-like laugh and regarded Bev, seeming almost amused with her attempts to reason with him. Pennywise resumed his seat in front of Bev, continuing to sit in that way of straddling the chair backwards, twirling the knife in his hands, admiring the sheen of the silver in the dim light. He let out a bitter laugh as he shoved Bev's chair painfully back against the wall.
"No. It's too late for me. I'm far too gone. I've killed people. I'm an angry, violent demon from another dimension. I know you've seen it in my Deadlights, Miss Marsh. You know what I am, don't you. Surely, you must. I know what I am…I can't go back from that, no matter what. If there's one thing…there's no hope left for someone like me." The self-loathing in his tone was evident.
Bev felt her mind quickly going into overdrive to put the missing pieces together. "Yes, you can," Bev rasped out hoarsely, reaching up with her cuffed hands as she felt Pennywise's grip around the column of her throat tighten slightly. "Yes, you can go back. I—if Derry and Bangor, if these places are too much for you, just get out of Maine. You can leave whatever this shithole life of yours behind and have your own life. Stay a human forever if that's what you want." She swallowed nervously, hoping this next part wouldn't make him laugh, but she was dead serious. "You can have a normal life as a human here if you want. G—get married, have kids who treat you well. Put all this behind you a—and start over," she whispered breathlessly, hardly daring to believe the words that felt like they were tumbling out of her mouth, her tongue no longer listening to her brain.
Pennywise laughed and tightened his grip around Bev's throat, ignoring her desperate clawing at his hands as she struggled to pry his hands off her.
"You of all people shouldn't suggest to me that I ever have kids. You're one to talk, Miss Marsh. You can't even keep a boyfriend, so what makes someone like you think you'll ever have kids, huh? Don't lecture me about what you think I should do," he snarled, leaning in so the tip of his nose practically was touching hers. "What woman would ever want this?" he snarled, gesturing to his deformities, the huge gaping hole where his eye once was, and she drew in a sharp breath that pained her screaming lungs and ribcage as Bob Gray rolled up the sleeve of his plaid shirt, his arm littered with dozens of angry scars, thick, red and white jagged lines, and several burn marks, fixing Bev with a cold stare, almost emotionless. "Hmm?" he growled. "You know any volunteers? Certainly isn't going to be you. Just looking at you and how Fat Boy and Rogan fought over you makes me want to punch you and beat you within an inch of your pathetic life. Why you? You're nothing special, kid," Pennywise growled, squeezing her hand even tighter around Bev's life. "It's sick. You're playing them both with no regard to either one's feelings. I knew I was right to take you. Both those men will be better off without a sniveling little young woman in their lives. They'll be free. Women like you test men's baser instincts and inflame them."
"And me? What 'baser instinct' do I ignite in you, fuckface?" snapped Bev hotly, immediately clenching her eyes shut and braced herself for another blow, but it didn't come. Damn her and her temper. It was going to be her undoing one of these days, she just knew it. It was her and Tom had so many disagreements. She would lash out in anger and say things that she didn't mean, though by the time she had, it was always too late to take them back.
"You're different." It did not escape Bev's attention how whenever Pennywise said her name, or even just talked about her or to her, something in his eyes sparked and softened, and his voice grew quiet, almost thoughtful in a way. Though there was that other part of Pennywise that almost sounded possessive when he spoke of her in such a way, and the mention of her dating others seemed to light a fire in him that Bev wasn't quite sure what to make of just yet. Bev furrowed her brow into a frown as she thought of Pennywise's possessiveness and protectiveness, almost like he were a dog becoming possessive over a bone...and she was the bone.
Could he...really love me in...that way? Bev wondered, and then immediately violently shook her head to clear her mind of such thoughts. No! No, that's stupid! Get it together. Stay calm…
She liked to believe he wouldn't, but given the erratic way he was behaving and his violent mood swings that seemed to have no states of gray-scale, Bev decided she couldn't rule it out, as much as that little pleasant thought made her stomach churn and the bile rise to the back of her throat.
"Weak women like you and that other little blonde girl just piss me off. But you deserve to be hurt just as much as the others," he hissed angrily. "Maybe more since the world keeps giving you a pass. No second chances here, Marsh. Game over for you and all your pathetic Loser's, every last one of them, oh, yes," he growled, squeezing his hand tighter around Bev's throat. "You, you're not like the others, you're not afraid. The only one who really understands me. What I am. What we are."
The young woman let out a frightened little gasp as she grabbed her fingers around Pennywise's burly arm. The man was close to choking the life force out of her by this point. Bev would have let out a cry if she were able to breathe. Instead, she opened her mouth and only managed a tiny, strangled, choking noise as tears began to stream down her cheeks. Her ribs ached and hurt horribly from where Pennywise had hit her, but her lungs screamed and burned for relief even more. She couldn't breathe. Her vision was growing gray at the edges. Letting out a tiny whimper, Bev felt her eyes clench shut as she tugged desperately at Bob Gray's plaid shirt sleeve, wincing as the harsh cold metal of her handcuffs dug into the tender skin of her inner wrists. She couldn't breathe. She squirmed underneath the man's weight, trying anything she could think of to get the monster away from her.
If Pennywise didn't let go soon…then Bev was going to pass out and he could actually kill her, intentional or not.
Pennywise's one good eye narrowed as he glowered at Bev until was nothing but a slit. It was unnerving to see the head of a snake glaring at her on a human body. "When I saw you walking in the woods a few nights ago, your innocent baby blue eyes looking around like you expect the very Maine air you breathed in to attack you…I wanted to hurt you. You're so…so…" He paused, seemingly struggling to find the right words. "Loved," he snarled, spitting that last word as if it were poison that had settled on his tongue. "I saw how those two boys threw themselves at each other down here in the sewers and all for what? To protect you," he breathed, for a moment sounding a mixture of awestruck and utter disgust. "I killed Rogan in the end because he pissed me off," he added, a note of pride in his voice. "He died. And Fat Boy will die too. All for you. Both trying to keep their precious little Bev safe…" He glowered at Bev and squeezed her throat tighter.
"P…please, don't do this. Stop..." She struggled to draw in breath, but his hold on her throat didn't relinquish or even loosen. Black mists swirled, ebbing and flowing at the forefront of her vision.
"Maybe it's wrong. I know. I saw you tonight, and I wanted all of you to suffer. People care about you. You're a cute woman, I'll give you that," he admitted, almost begrudgingly so, as he didn't want to confess it to the very young woman he was about to strangle to death. "You're beautiful, and you know it, don't you, Bev? Of course, you do. How could you not?" he whisper-hissed through gritted teeth, and Bev's gaze drifted down to see his knuckles were white with the effort to steady himself, perhaps to prevent himself from lashing out at her in anger again. "See?" he grunted, the corners of his mouth twisting into an unkind sneer as Bev shot him a dark look. "There's that look again. You're getting to be quite good at this, you know," he sighed, continuing his absentminded twirling of his dagger in his hands, as though bored with the turn their conversation had taken. "You're innocent. Weak. Pathetic."
Pennywise shook his head in disgust as he stared down his slender nose at her bitterly, his hulking build towering over her as he rose from his chair, lifting Bev off her feet slightly, his grip upon her throat tightening even harder. The color had rapidly drained from Bev's face, and there was no mistaking the fear in her blue eyes now. "Nobody gives a shit if I get hurt. Nobody fucking cares what happens to me," Pennywise growled, finally loosening his ironclad grip on Bev's neck, just enough for her to draw in a gasping, choking, wheezing breath and let out a cry.
Bev couldn't even manage to formulate words in her head that she wanted to speak as she sucked in shaking, deep lungful's of air that pained her lungs, coughing as she gasped for air that simply wasn't there. She barely even recognized the sound of her own cries, and she couldn't get herself to stop.
She just wanted all this to end, for the killings to stop. Pennywise cocked his head to the side and regarded Bev in silence, waiting for her violent coughing spell to stop. Bev reached up a trembling hand to her throat, as well as she could given that she was restrained by handcuffs.
She winced as she touched the area of her neck where Pennywise's hand had gripped it tight, and she knew it was going to leave marks she didn't want. "Stop..." The young woman let out a hiss as she drew in a breath and flinched at the screaming fire burning in her ribcage, near her side from where he had punched her during his tantrum only mere moments ago. Bev stared, feeling her mouth drop open slightly. She didn't know how to respond. "I—I'm sorry," panted Bev, still heaving to catch her breath. "B—but you're wrong. Stop this now, and you can still be saved."
"SHUT UP!" bellowed Pennywise, the last of his patience leaving him at last and he lashed out at the wall behind Bev's head, his fist strong enough that it left a visible dent in the wood. Bev let out a tiny squeak of terror and clenched her eyes shut tight. This was it. Her end. Pennywise let out a small growl and his hand drifted towards the back of Bev's skull, finding purchase in her thick red tresses. He yanked her hair back roughly, eliciting a sharp cry of pain from Bev as he tugged. She opened her mouth to say something else to the clown in a last-ditch effort to reach him, but a flash of yellow out of the corner of her eye and the tumble of movement had grabbed her attention. She sucked in a sharp breath and froze.
A flash of dark brown caught her eye out of the corner of her vision, and her head whiplashed upwards and she felt the tension in her shoulders leave her almost rapidly as her eyes landed on Ben, whose dark eyes widened and then she watched as he breathed an inaudible sigh of relief at still seeing her alive. He rose a finger to his lips, signaling for Bev to be quiet. Bev gave a curt little nod. She drew in a sharp intake of breath that pained her bruised and probably cracked ribs at this point as she realized she needed to keep Pennywise talking.
Bev saw this. "It i—it's not too late to walk away. You can flee," breathed Bev, reaching up a trembling hand to brush back a lock of his light brown hair out of his one good eye as well as she could with handcuffed hands, which had, Bev noted, fallen in front of his eye, conveniently acting as a barrier between himself and the rest of the world, shielding his vision from whatever it was he didn't want to see, as she stepped in between Bev's chair and Pennywise, effectively using herself as a shield, the only barrier for Bev between life and certain death.
Bev couldn't resist adding in her own two cents. "You can fight…that," she added, seeing how badly the creature had started to shake. He was seeming to struggle to rein in his effort to control himself and losing horribly. "Whatever is happening to you, you're stronger than this. Please don't do this. We—we can still save you."
"Shut. Up." His body continued to shake, and he balled his hands into fists to prevent himself from striking out at something in anger. A beat. A pause. "A word of advice. you really don't want to upset me right now. Or I'll bite you in the throat, you nosy, meddling bitch. See how much talking you do then. Shut your mouth. Stop making noise. Don't say another word."
The young woman pursed her lips together into a thin line and bit down on her bottom lip, but she couldn't stop her own bout of trembling or the soft whimper that escaped her throat. She tried to focus on a spot on the wood behind the man's head, instead of on her own fears but she was failing horribly.
Bob Gray's gaze drifted towards Bev. He repeated this a few more times before Bev could almost see the sudden shift in his personality as he seemed to feel something shift within himself. Bev let out a little whimper of fear as he took a huge stride forward and knelt at Bev's chair, so he was at eye-level with the young woman.
"Fine," he snarled. "Get out of here then. I won't fuck with you or your…friends," he growled, glancing towards Ben, whose mouth was hanging open in shock. "Get the fuck out of here before I change my mind. I mean it, Marsh," he growled, reaching out and grabbing Bev's arm in a fist and gave it a hard squeeze, as if to emphasize his point. "I'll kill you. And I'll kill all your little friends if you breathe a word of this. No one will ever know it was me if you force my hand and make me kill all of you."
Just as quick as before, Bev nodded again, letting out a muffled squeak of approval. "No, please," begged Bev, feeling tears well in her eyes, stinging and burning in her vision. "Th—there's still time for you to change." She shirked away, as far back as her back would allow as he brought the tip of his silver dagger and pressed it delicately, but firmly at her throat, just hard enough to enforce his intended message, what happened to her if she were to tell the cops what had happened here. "We can…we can still save you," she breathed, and immediately she knew she had made a huge mistake.
Bev watched, horrified, as Pennywise's face blanched and almost immediately drained of color and he drew back, looking as though Bev had slapped her.
"There's nothing left of me to save!" he roared, and that was when all hell broke loose. Shouting rent the tense atmosphere, and Bev didn't know who was screaming what, if that voice was Ben or Pennywise, but Bev was trapped and given no time to react as his hand lowered and he made a move to plunge his horrible looking claw-like nails into the side of her thigh, and it made a satisfying squish as the tip of his nails sank deep enough to make his latest victim scream. He sank his claws in even deeper, and Pennywise yanked his now crimson-stained hand out of Bev's thigh.
Her cry was a brilliant sound, guttural chokes mixed with a heart-wrenching agonized scream that brought Ben running to her side immediately. "Jesus, Bev! Don't look at it, I—it's going to be okay," he swore under his breath, rushing to catch Bev as she collapsed out of her wooden chair, cushioning the worst of her fall as she felt the strength in her legs leave her. "I…you…you're going to be fine, Bev, you'll see. I promise," Ben whispered into the shell of her ear, tenderly brushing back a lock of her hair and gently rocking her back and forth, trying what he could to distract his crush from the agonizing throbbing and burning in her leg.
One quick glance at it was more than enough. It was just a flesh wound, but enough and deep enough that it was undoubtedly going to scar, but she needed a hospital and fast.
Pennywise smirked, turning away as her pleas for mercy became fainter, the sweet tang of blood tingling in his nostrils. He turned away, reached out to take Bev, and a horrible cracking sound filled the air as Eddie Kaspbrak burst into the room, screaming curses like a madman and picking up the baseball bat that Ben had dropped to the floor, and a satisfying crunching noise lingered in Beverly's eardrums as he swung the bat at the clown's head as hard as his strength could muster, and a horrible ringing filled Bev's eardrums as her consciousness swirled in black mists, her head pounding, muffled screaming vibrating in the basement of the Neibolt House.
Even the passage of the light slowed, and the sounds became as if underwater. Aside from the beat of Bev's heart, no muscle moved as she felt Ben stiffen, wrapping his arms around her waist, using the wall of the basement's room as a brace to support himself. That pounding inside beat a rhythm to the words of Pennywise's unexpected take-down, the hard wood of the bat It's judge and jury.
Bob Gray's face was frozen, eyes open, mouth slack, as he was propelled backward. His gaze held Bev''s and in those fractions of seconds the man that had once been was there and then the next, reduced to a crumpled mess on the ground. It said nothing, though it was regarding Eddie with a newfound hatred in its gray eyes.
"You're next, Eds," It growled, no semblance of joking in his tone.
Ignoring the clown, Eddie had eyes only for his friends. Eddie panted heavily, dropping the baseball bat to the ground. "Bev," he breathed. "Thank fuck you're both okay. Ben, y—you guys okay?"
"Yes," Ben answered immediately. "Holy fuck, Eds, d—did you kill it?"
"I—I think so," he gasped out, clutching his side as he tried to catch his breath. "Y-you said that it kills monsters once, Bev," he whispered, turning to Bev, an awestruck look in his eyes. "I think I fucking killed it. I did it! I think I got it for for real this time. Let's not stick around to find out, though. "Let's go!" he hollered, grabbing both Ben and Beverly by the arms, yanking the pair of them to their feet.
Good man, Bev thought, and felt her heart swell with relief and pride for their friend. He had saved their lives, and she made a mental note to thank Eddie at her earliest convenience after all this was over.
"Beverly?" Ben asked at last, his tone laced with concern as he draped one of her arms over his shoulder, helping her to stand as they bolted up the stairs towards the Neibolt House's exit. "You okay to walk to the car? Let's…let's get you to a hospital, Bev. You need emergency medical care."
His face was white, far too pale to be considered healthy, even for Ben.
"I'm…good…" she rasped out weakly, closing her eyes and leaning against Ben for support, trusting him to lead them both in the right direction. Walking with her eyes closed was comfortable. Bev knew Ben would keep her from running into anything. Bev drew in a sharp breath as the cold night air blasted her cheeks and the wind tousled her red hair into buoyant curls. The young woman stared down at her sandals as she walked, and then her gaze wandered towards her wrists. They were rubbed raw from where the metal of the handcuffs had dug into her skin during her futile effort to free herself. Why had she struggled so much? She didn't even manage to free herself, and now the skin on her wrists was practically gone and tender to the touch.
Bev winced and hissed as her fingertips gingerly grazed the markings on her left wrist. She let out a startled cry of surprise as Ben swiftly but firmly smacked her hand away. "Don't touch it, Bev, you're hurt," Ben admonished, though not unkindly. His grip on her shoulder tightened as she felt her footing stagger. Bev hadn't realized how dizzy and thirsty she was. It had been useless to try to fight It. She just wished these damn markings would go away. She had not asked for any of this. She wanted nothing more than to leave Maine behind forever.
To leave and never come back. Forget any of this ever happened.
"Hey…" Ben whispered tenderly. "You all right, Bev?"
Bev shook her head, letting a lock of her red hair tumble in front of her face like a curtain, hoping to shield her tears from Ben, but with one swift movement of his thumb and forefinger he had brushed it back behind her ear where it belonged. She bit her bottom lip and fought down a half-choked sob.
Ben stopped walking, grasping her hands lightly onto Bev's shoulders and bent down slightly to look the young woman in the eyes. "Bev? Talk to me, Beverly. What's wrong?"
"I—it's just…" Her face crumpled as she looked at her wrists, and never mind the screaming throbbing of her leg where Pennywise had stabbed her, for God's sake! "H—how am I going to explain these to others? T—to my aunt and uncle a—and my friends back home? And…Tom, Tom's dead," she finished, though she didn't say his name. If hearing her say her ex's name now bothered him, he did not show it.
Instead, Ben nodded in understanding. "Just don't, then. Don't tell them if you want. Just say only want you want to, yeah? I'll be right with you the whole time by your side. Trust me, Marsh, I'm not going anywhere," he promised, reaching up a shaking hand to brush a lock of her red hair back behind her ear and smiled.
Bev, without thinking anything of it, instinctively reached for his hand and gave it a tight squeeze.
"You're stuck with me, Bev. January Embers. My heart burns there too, remember?" he said, his tone hopeful, though Bev knew there was more behind it. Ben was an emotional man, as much as he liked to tease everyone and claim that he wasn't. It was one of many things she liked about him.
She felt her breathing rate increase as they barreled out of the Neibolt House and headed down the street, and Ben and Eddie and Beverly drew towards a Derry local police car, its lights flashing red and blue, where it appeared the officer was just finished talking with Eddie. Eddie's mom was frantic and shouting at anyone who would listen and wasted no time in carting Eddie in her car off towards the hospital to get his broken arm fixed before the two friends could so much as say thank you.
"Excuse me, you two…What's your name, ma'am?" The cop who had been conversing with Sonia Kaspbrak heaved a sigh of relief and turned towards Beverly and Ben. He furrowed his brow into a frown and tipped his hat in acknowledgement as Bev limped forward, stifling a cry of pain as it still hurt to walk, and there was the matter of the festering wound in both her leg and her wrists were screaming for a salve and bandages. "You okay?" When Bev did not answer immediately, he pressed her further. "Ma'am?"
Bev felt her breath catch in her throat. She couldn't bring herself to answer, not after what she had just been through. She kind of wanted to lie, which was a first for her. All she wanted to do was to sleep and go back home. She wanted nothing more than to let Ben take her on a date, when all of this calmed down.
Luckily for her, sensing her discomfort, Ben took a careful step forward, one hand never leaving Bev's waist, and the movement brought her forward to. "This is Beverly Marsh, sir. She's the girl who went missing a few days ago."
The pair watched as the cop smiled nervously and exhaled a deep breath, removing his hat and running a hand through his dirty blond hair in relief. "Thank fuck—I mean, thank God," he breathed, quickly correcting himself as he no doubt saw the dirty look Ben was giving him. "We got the call about an hour ago. Thank God we found you before anything happened. Kids round these parts are still going missing, though now whoever is doing it has upgraded to young adults, not just kids. Whoever it is, is one sick motherfucker. I'm glad you two are safe. We been looking for you for a a long time. You got any family we can call for you, let them know you're safe? First things first, we gotta get you to a hospital, and then I think it's a good idea if you come down to the station, Miss Marsh."
Bev shook her head and had been about to open her mouth to violently protest, that she didn't want to go to a hospital, but at the gentle touch of Ben's hand upon her shoulder, she felt her shoulders sag in defeat. "Fine," she grumbled, swallowing nervously and climbing as best she could back into the cruiser, Ben following suit.
The young woman wanted to feel relieved, but she knew a lot of questions were coming. Difficult ones. Dread crept down her spine like a careful spider leaving a trail of silk. She felt her feet on her skin, descending until she was frozen to her seat in the backseat of the police cruiser. Her stomach felt full of lead, her mind worryingly empty. All Bev could do was hope things slipped into place when she took the hot seat, when finding the answers mattered. And then, her anxiety almost seemed to evaporate as she felt Ben's hand drift toward her lap and settle there. The cop put the car into drive and started towards the hospital.
Ben, sensing she needed comfort, pulled her close and allowed her to rest her head on his shoulder. "I'm right here, Bev. I'm not going anywhere. I promise," Ben whispered, leaning over, brushing a lock of her hair over her shoulder so he could murmur it into the shell of her ear, and then, he did something bold, but something he had wanted to do for the longest time. Looking into Ben Hanscom's eyes, Bev saw deep pools that displayed his very soul. His lips touched her cheek. Time stopped. Her heart gave a few flutters before coming to a complete halt. Her breath caught in her throat.
Their fingers locked together, like puzzle pieces. A perfect fit, Bev thought wildly. It was never like this with Tom. As the soft skin of his mouth left the side of Bev's face, the exact spot where they had come into contact burned and tingled. A hot blazing fire pulsed through Bev's entire body, warming her. A tiny grin crept onto her face and her cheeks flushed a bright pink. Ben pulled away silently, but their eyes locked, having a private conversation of their own.
Somehow, Bev knew, as long as she was with Ben, everything was going to be okay.
