You were having a very good day.
You woke up feeling actually fresh and amazing before your alarm rang. The air was nice and cool and you managed to soft boil the egg just the way you like it. The traffic had been a breeze and work proceeded smoothly, especially since your least favourite co-workers had been assigned to another site for the time being. You managed to skip the long queue at lunch and even got a free muffin in the bargain. One of your favourite fanfictions had been updated and you even got a praise from your boss.
What a day to end the weekday.
It was amazing and awesome…then you went home. Thinking of taking advantage of good luck, you thought you might drop by the park, watch some birds and enjoy the breeze.
Then, as though mocking your plans your car began to sputter, then shake and wheeze before dying just as you pulled over by the side of the road.
You try twist you keys, hoping it would start but your car adamantly remained dead.
"Fuck!" you swore and made a move for the phone inside your purse; only to be met by something soft and silky.
"Boo!" the thing barked.
"HOLY SHIT!" you scream as your body recoils and your back slams against your car door.
Pennywise, your alien fuck-buddy, snickers at your distress, sending spit all over your dashboard.
"HUhahahaHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
"Jesus fucking Christ, you big asshole – you fucking scared me!"
"Ah, [y/n], you're so easy to scare," he mocks you, his ruffles jiggling as he pulls you close to him and kisses you.
He tastes like blood and sweetness and all things wrong but you melt anyway.
"Mine, nice and mine," he murmurs. Then his hands begin to wander past your face, your neck and down to the curves of your waist, insisting and urgent. Whatever your thoughts had been, to call for the tow-truck fled as he slips a finger into your pants and found your eager clit. You hiss and crush your mouth against his, grinding and bucking as you explore that mouth of his.
You half expect him to push you away, clench his fists into your hair and growl obscenities but he seems…nice today.
Even his ministrations are gentle, thoughtful. He even paused when your knee accidentally brushed over your gear stick, one hand carefully rubbing the sore spot away.
Except…
That wasn't what happened…you recalled him pulling you onto his lap as he impales you on his cock, ignoring how you winced as your head smacks the top of your car, as you grasp his shoulders, hissing and begging him to slow the hell down.
He laughed at your distress before teleporting you away, down to the sewers, onto that filthy mattress of his, as he tears the grey silken costume of his body…
No, yellow. Yellow, green and purple.
Not grey.
Pain shoots up your head and you hear bells, ringing loudly and a voice, small and crying out for you.
You recall copper not red, tall not stout and red lines marking his face not white, not the white expanse and blue eyes staring back. You recall being small and bullied and an egg, round and white and warm and yours and his.
Eggy?
As soon as you call that name, the cry silences.
Your heart twists because the silence feels wrong and you call out again, hoping you'd find her…
Your baby.
Then you hear it, a rasp, a growl and a voice deep and wrong.
And you're back in the car with Pennywise (white, fire engine red), staring at you.
"Babe?" he asks, concerned (except he rarely does in that form…), blue eyes frowning as he touches your cheek. He does that too but only when human…
But this Pennywise isn't human.
As though reading your mind, Pennywise's face twists into a sneer, "Geez, you're hard to crack sweet-heart, I can see why you stayed."
The world around you melt and you're no longer in the car, as leather and steel morphs into sewage and dampness. You fall on your ass, your brain reeling as you take in the clown in front of you.
Not him. Not your Pennywise. Bob BOB LIAR LIAR KIDNAPPER
Like a rubber band, something in your memories snaps and you remember.
Your mother. Except not.
The slap. Pennywise. Your Pennywise walking off with your daughter because you wanted to help your mother. A mother who wasn't there. A mother who was never there to begin with.
Bob.
The clown, the kidnapping asshole had the temerity to look smug as he levels his face to yours. You snarl, wanting to scratch his face off but your body stiffens, frozen by an unseen power as he chuckles, patting your cheek quite fondly.
"C'mon babe, I am so much better than Junior, just let me in." he says as he licks those thin red lips.
You want to swear, to scream and demand him to let you go but just like the rest of you, your mouth is frozen shut. Bob snickers, turning to cup his ear towards you.
"What's that?" he starts, before pitching his voice higher, "Sure thing Bob! I need a real clown to take care of me. Not Loser McBuck Tooth! Why, he can't even satisfy me anymore, not like you can!" the clown mocks, before slapping his knees uproariously.
It hurts to watch. Yes, Penny can be a complete ass at times and has an ego that needs to be knocked a bit but he is your Penny. Amazingly smart and dumb at the same time, simultaneously selfish and selfless and exasperates and calms you the same.
And fuck Bob for mocking him, for mocking Penny for being human. Especially since Penny had vouched for him, had trusted the being who was once his mate with his family.
As much as it hurts you when he first did, you're glad that Penny took Eggy away from you. At least she's safe while you try to figure out how the hell to escape. You don't know why Bob kidnapped you and frankly, you don't give a shit because once you're free, pregnancy or not, you are going to tear this clown apart.
If a bunch of pre-pubescent children can take down Pennywise at his prime, so can you.
Once this fucker start playing fair.
Bob ceases his laughter, before wiping a tear from his eyes.
"Aww, toots, you don't have to lay it thick. I'll take care of ya…as soon as I tweak a few things in that brain of yours." He declares, before swooping in to peck a slobbery kiss against your lips.
You strain, screaming for your body to move, do something as Bob's eyes began to glow, burning and fiercely before your mortal mind shrieks.
Mike Hanlon was having a really bad day.
First he woke up late, then in his rush to reach the library, his car accidentally hit a curb. When he reached the front desk, he found out that the internet is broken and his computer had decided to bid adieu to him because someone just had to download porn. He had to dig out a fossil of a machine that didn't even recognize any browser but Internet Explorer and hasn't been updated since before Derry learned about the internet.
Also, someone masturbated in the history section, again and he accidentally dropped his lunch into an open drain because his shoelaces snapped. Then, as if sensing the dearth of the internet, it seems like all of Derry's elderly decided today was the day that just had to have this one book – no they don't know the title or the author but it had a red cover and Oprah mentioned in on her show.
"You're black and you don't know Oprah?" One wrinkly old bat stated as he pursed his lips in disappointment.
So, it was in a foul mood, that Mike found himself as he drove home (while it rained heavily, because why not?), feeling several last strands of his dark hair turning white after one too many "But I saw in on Oprah/TV/BookstoreThatDoesn'tEvenExistinDerry". Mike can be considered a calm man (he had to be to survive in a nearly white town) but even he couldn't help but imagine just being able to just tell everyone to fuck off for today.
Which was why he nearly hit the poor man that suddenly popped into the middle of the road.
Tires screeched as Mike swerves to avoid the person who just suddenly appeared, his car veering to the side of the road and it was only because the road was empty (small mercies) that it didn't turn into a pile up.
Hands still gripping his steering wheel, Mike gasps for breathe as his mind tries to stop panicking. The rain continues to pour heavily, almost obscuring his vision, forcing him to peer through his windshield to see if he had hit anyone. The grey sheet of water fell heavily but for a brief wave when he saw him – a man, pale and…naked lying prone on the ground.
"Shit!" Mike cursed as he swings his car door open, ignoring the wetness as he rushes to the man's side.
"Sir? Hey Mister?" he calls out, voice drowning as thunders boomed ahead. The librarians knees down beside the comatose man and from a quick glance, noted that aside from his nakedness, there's no visible injury but he knew better than to move him. Just because he can't see it, doesn't mean it's not an internal injury or anything. Mike quickly checked his pulse and found it erratic.
But as he turns back, to reach for his phone, the man's hand shoots up and grabs him. Mike winces from the sheer strength of that grip but it was nothing compared to what he saw next.
Blood poured freely from the person who had grabbed his arm. It was leaking from his eyes, his nose and his lips, Mike was amazed the person was still moving, amber eyes focused and alert before it zeroed in on the librarian.
Very familiar eyes and something like an echo of a laughter plays in his head.
"Y-you!" the amber eyed man wheezes, gritting and pants as he tries to sit up.
Mike props himself against the poor man, "Listen, you need to lie down, I'm going to call the am-" In a surge of strength Mike never thought was possible, the man lifts himself up, bringing his face so close to his, the librarian could almost taste the blood.
"No, take me home!"
"You're not in a position-"
But his words die down when with a rough shake, the man stands up, towering over Mike. The librarian barely registered just how tall this person was before he was being stared down by those golden pupils (where has he seen it?).
They burn with a purpose.
"Oh, Mikey," the man speaks, almost sing-song despite the heaviness of his breath, the paleness of his skin, "You were always a stubborn one."
Mike didn't see the punch but he saw stars and pain shooting up his temple as he falls to the ground. The man kicks him again, forcing Mike to curl up in pain.
The man walks off, tilting his head so that the rain washes away the blood from his face.
Mike groans, clutching his stomach when he hears the sound of the car door slamming and the engine being revved up. He tries to get up, to reach for the car but it was too late. Steel screeches away from him as Mike dives to the side to avoid being hit.
The librarian tries to run after it but the torrent plus the ache at the side of his jaw made for a limping jog before he's bent down, gasping for air as all he can do is watch as his car's taillights are swallowed by the sheet of rain.