"The terror, which would not end for another twenty-eight years-if it ever did end-began, so far as I know or can tell, with a boat made from a sheet of newspaper floating down a gutter swollen with rain."

It ~ Stephen King.

OCTOBER, 1985

HAWKINS, INDIANA

Rain lashed down onto the streets of Hawkins, Indiana. It beat against the houses and swirled into the streets, converging into a fast river that swept through the roads and emptied into the storm drains. In one such drain a face peered out and into the sky. Luminescent eyes glowed amber in the dark as a wicked smile curled upwards on its face. Surrounding it was an aura of prime evil, an ancient sense of foreboding and dread. It tilted its stubby red nose towards the opening and dragged in a large amount of air, reacquainting himself with the world he'd woken up in. He was awake again. Awake and hungry. A feral grin pulled his lips upward, flashing canine like teeth and distorting the clown makeup streaked across his face.

WHEELER HOUSEHOLD

The sound of the storm was muted within the walls of Mike's room. In the corner one of his old vinyls was playing quietly whilst he helped his little sister Holly build her boat. Holly wasn't actually building it though. Instead she was looking out one of his windows into the storm, her breath fogging up the glass and her fingers tracing idle patterns in the mist. Mike was still in his pyjamas, bundled into a nest of blankets and surrounded by tissues whereas Holly was in a pretty little frock with brightly coloured flowers on it. Mike sharpened the last crease of the paper and folded it over to complete the shape of the boat. It was bright yellow cartridge paper from the old stationary store run down the road. Mike had lent Holly his pocket money for it even though Holly had promised to save up her own. Mike didn't tell her he'd swiped it from their older sister, Nancy's piggy bank.

"Is it done yet? Is it done?" Holly bounced excitedly around her big brother as he held the little yellow boat up for her to see. He laughed and tugged on the end of one of her plaits.

"Not yet silly. We need to cover it with wax so that it floats. You go get that whilst I find a brush." Holly frowned.

"In the cellar?" Mike looked over at her.

"You want it to work don't you? Don't be a wuss, just go get it." Holly hesitated. Mike let out a long suffering sigh before grabbing a talkie off of his bookshelf and tossing it to her. She fumbled with it slightly before managing to hold it the right way round. "You remember when I taught you how to use it right?" Holly nodded. "Good because that's a big kid toy which only big kids can use and they're not scared of dark cellars." Holly gnawed her lip and looked out back into the storm. Mike pressed on, "If you're too young for it then I could just take it back and-"

"No." Holly hugged the talkie tight to her chest. She knew Mike was very protective of them and he and all of his older friends used them. She wanted to be like them too, they were all grown up and got to have way more fun than she did. She puffed out her chest. "I'll get the wax, I'm not afraid of the dark." Mike smiled triumphantly as Holly marched out of the door. He dragged himself off the end of his bed to go and grab the paintbrush on his desk.

Holly was feeling less confident as she reached the cellar door. Her mom was absentmindedly folding the laundry in the kitchen. "Careful going down there honey, the bulb broke last week and I'm still waiting for your father to fix it." Holly swallowed nervously. She wasn't afraid of the dark. She opened the door and stood on the top step, staring down into the dim basement. She flicked the light switch a couple times to make sure but unfortunately her mother was right. Her talkie flashed red and Mike's voice sprang through the radio.

"Holly hurry up." It was followed by a burst of static and she jumped at the loudness of his voice in the quiet of the cellar. Still, she descended the staircase, holding onto the railing and mentally plotting the quickest route to the main storage shelves. She tucked the talkie into her front pocket so that both her hands were free. The shadows moved from the light spilling from the kitchen and in the darkest corners Holly swore she heard rustling. Swallowing nervously and tugging at the hem of her skirt, Holly slowly edged her way towards the main shelf on her left. It held boxes of all sorts of stuff from Mike's old Star Wars Lego set to the special bunting they hung up on the fourth of July. Wedged between an old camp stove and a tangled mess of kites lay a small box of Gulf Wax. Holly went to snatch it quickly but in doing so knocked an old flashlight. It rolled towards the edge and Holly watched it like it was slow motion as it fell towards the floor and clattered loudly on the concrete. The beam flickered on and off rapidly, illuminating something shiny in the corner. The bulb gave out but the shiny thing in the shadows still glinted with the light from the kitchen. It was two little orb things that looked suspiciously like floating eyes. Holly hastily snatched the torch up off of the floor and smacked the side hard, sending a bright beam of light that swept away the gloom and revealed an old spool of copper wire. Her heart slowed somewhat and she shakily reached for the wax, curling her fingers around it tightly. All it took was a loud clap of thunder to send her scurrying back up the stairs and slamming the door shut, leaning against it with the wax in one hand and the broken flashlight in the other.

"What in heaven's name was all that noise?" Mrs Wheeler stood with a basket full of laundry balanced on one hip and a hand on her other one. Holly's heart was beating furiously, it was as if an angry butterfly was trying to force itself through her chest. She ignored her mother and ran for the stairs, trying to take most of them two at a time. Mrs Wheeler just brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose, shaking her head before carrying on with the laundry.

The adrenaline was still flooding through Holly when she reached the landing. It ebbed away slightly though as she entered the familiar bedroom, almost as familiar as her own. Mike had lit a candle on his desk and was waiting impatiently for her to join him. His nose was redder than before and a fresh bucket was sat by the bed, all of the tissues having been deposited in the bin whilst he waited. "What took you so long?" He grabbed the wax off of her and began melting it.

"Monsters." Holly answered. She clambered onto the end of Mike's bed whilst he sat at his desk. She tucked her feet under her and watched the wax dissolve into a glimmering puddle.

"Oh yeah? Were they scarier than clowns?" Holly shook her head and Mike laughed. "Clowns aren't that scary Hols, they're normal people under all that makeup, people like you and me." She nodded thoughtfully. "Here we go, it's all ready for painting now." The wax shone like butter as it melted into a thick sort of oil. When Mike dipped the end of the brush in it all the bristles glistened in the candlelight but when he painted it onto the paper it turned into a damp, soggy sort of mustard colour. Holly reached out to touch it but Mike gently smacked her hand away. "Careful Holly, we have to wait for it to dry first." She pouted in the way only adorable seven year-olds can. "Why don't you get your coat on Hols, and don't forget your galoshes either." She grumbled but plodded down the stairs anyway.

When she returned Mike had pulled out a big black marker and written SS HOLLY on the side of the boat in big bold letters. He held it out to her like he was presenting an award. "She's all ready Captain." Holly beamed and bounced excitedly up to him, surprising him with a kiss on his cheek.

"Thanks Mikey." He smiled softly at her. "But why's it a she?"

"Boats are always 'she' silly." She giggled and smiled a wide, gap-toothed smile.

"Are you sure you can't come with me?" She'd bugged him about it all morning. His smile faded.

"Sorry Hols but I'm too sick to go outside, I'm dying!" He gave an exaggerated cough to try and coax a laugh out of her but it didn't work. She was frowning and on the verge of becoming a surly little kid.

"But you're not dying!" She stuck out her lip, her tone entirely too serious and know-it-all for someone her age.

"What? You mean you didn't see the sick coming out of my nose earlier." She blanched and he laughed at her. "Have you asked Nancy?"

"Yeah but she's busy with Jonathan." She scrunched up her nose as Mike made a noise of disgust.

"Ok, that's fair but you can still have fun." He insisted, crouching down to do up her zipper, sliding it all the up and under her chin.

"Are you sure I won't get in trouble?" It was still disappointed but the excitement was returning rather rapidly.

"Don't be a sissy. Just remember to avoid Mirkwood, freaky things happen there ok?" Holly nodded.

"Monsters." She said sagely. Mike tugged on her braids again.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Monsters." With that he pulled up her hood and sent her off and out the door.

As she went, bounding down the steps of the front porch Mike watched from his bedroom window, a strong sense of foreboding filling him up. He suddenly wanted to call Holly back inside but shook it off. It was probably nothing. She splashed down the garden path and paused in the drive, turning to face the bedroom window where Mike's silhouette was. She waved to him eagerly and when he waved back she turned to the road and dropped the boat onto the fastest stream. It bobbed along merrily for a second before getting caught up in the flow and zipping away. Holly gave a little crow of delight as she gave chase, sprinting behind it to keep up.

The streets were empty, everyone huddled inside to keep cosy and warm. Whereas to some it might seem haunting, the darkened houses and dead traffic lights, to Holly it was just another adventure where she could pretend to be a grown up exploring the roads of Hawkins all on her own. Her galoshes were slightly too big and made a funny fwub sound every time she put one foot in front of the other. Her hood fell over her brows and almost covered her eyes, sheltering her ears from the cold wind that buoyed her little boat along. Unfortunately Holly failed to notice how far they'd come. The storm had worsened and the heavy clouds overhead made the already darkening sky gloomier. Her boat sluiced along the swollen gutter towards the intersection but with the low light and her attention so focused on the paper boat, Holly missed the Stop sign that had been blown sideways in the wind. She careened straight into it and was knocked flat on her back whilst her boat whistled on. "NO!" She scrambled back to her feet and chased after the small yellow blob, now almost entirely disappeared in the rushing rainwater. She was slightly stunned and could feel the beginnings of dampness starting to seep through her clothes. She gave a small cry and half stumbled half ran after her ship.

Her backside was sore and her hair was plastered to her face but she managed to catch up enough to see her creation surf up towards the curb and let out a loud squeal, knowing what was going to happen before it did. The boat circled twice before it was swallowed up by the storm drain. Holly felt like crying. Mike was going to be so mad at her. She splashed over to the drain and, ignoring her already wet clothes, knelt down in front of it. "Mike's gonna kill me." She tried peering down into the drain, the water falling straight into darkness and creating a damp, hollow sound that echoed back out to her. She could see her paper boat kicking in and out of the shadows.

She snaked her arm through the hole, her whole body lying flat on the road as she reached wildly for the boat. Water was sloshing up her raincoat and was soaking through her dress, the stream flowing south and getting into her nose that was pressed awkwardly against the wet tarmac. Suddenly squinty amber eyes blinked into existence and Holly screamed, falling backwards and splashing in the water. A greasy white face lifted towards the light and Holly was horrified to see a clown squatting in the storm drain. She sucked in a breath. His face was as white as chalk and his nose and eyes were painted with a dark red, like Kool Aid. It was streaked around his eyes, like he'd been crying and his tears had washed it down into thin lines that met at the corners of his mouth.

"Hiya Holly." She gulped fearfully. Her name didn't sound right when he said it. "This is your boat?" His voice sounded strange, it was a sad voice. Holly looked around for anyone else, hoping another person was witnessing this. The only other person around was an older lady on her porch who spared the little girl a quick glance before returning to more pressing matters. Holly eyed the drain again before edging slightly closer. Her brother's words echoed in her head, repeating like a mantra; they're normal people under all that makeup, people like you and me. It gave her a little bit more courage, after all Mike was older, he wouldn't lie to her. He was never wrong. The clown smiled but it wasn't a nice smile. "It's a nice boat. Floats." She crawled even closer so that she was on her hands and knees staring straight down onto him. He didn't look like a normal clown, in fact he was even scarier. His body was too thin and knobbly with sticky out knees and elbows. He wore a big collar thing, like a ruff with curly toed shoes and lacy flares on the ends of his sleeves. His entire attire was a dirty white, stained and smudged with odd threading, some of the lining red whilst some was black. Holly started to get a really bad feeling.

"What're you doing in the sewer?" She asked. She'd never heard of anyone going into the sewers before, not even that weird boy down the road from her.

"There was a storm. A very large storm and it blew me away down here, it blew the whole circus down here."

"There's a whole circus down there?" Holly tried to crane her head to see around him. He smiled again but it was all wrong, there were too many teeth and it didn't reach his eyes. Holly didn't feel like a brave grown up anymore. "I should go." His smile slipped for a fraction of a second.

"But you look like such a nice girl. I'll bet you have lots of friends." Holly thought about Mike hunched over in bed coughing. He'd be so disappointed if she told him she'd lost the boat. Maybe if she talked to the clown then he'd give it back to her.

"Three. But my brother is my bestest best..." She trailed off. The paper boat was bumping around the clown's gnarly white feet. He followed her gaze and scooped it up, taking care not to crush the delicate edges.

"Your bestest best? Is this his boat?" He held it up towards her but too far away for her to grab. Holly nodded vigorously.

"He made it for me." A large grin swelled across the clown's face. His top lip curled outward and was pulled back to reveal two large front teeth. Holly shivered but not from the cold.

"There's a good brother. Where is he?"

"In bed. Sick."

"I bet I could cheer him up. I'd give him a balloon." Holly nibbled on her bottom lip anxiously. "Do you want a balloon too Holly?" She shuffled nervously from above.

"I'm not supposed to take stuff from strangers."

"Oh, well I'm Pennywise, the dancing clown." His head twitched spasmodically and from somewhere in the gloom little bells jingled like a court jester shaking his hat. "Pennywise, yes," He muttered to himself. "meet Holly." He gestured from his chest to her. "Holly, meet Pennywise." He crooked his hand back to him. Holly hiccoughed a nervous giggle. "Now we aren't strangers, are we?" His eyes bore heavily into Holly's. He laughed but it was more like a mad growl.

"Can you smell the circus Holly? There's peanuts and cotton candy." As Holly leaned forwards Pennywise swayed backwards, as if enticing her even closer. His eyes were twitching rapidly but that smile stayed frozen on his face. As Holly listened to him she could feel a warmish sort of glow. If she strained her ears, she could hear faint carnival music and smell the sticky sweetness of candy and buttery hot oil fryers. There was even the faint sound of children laughing and balloons popping. "Hot dogs and..." He waited for her to finish it and as Holly crawled even closer the answer washed over her immediately.

"Popcorn?"

"Popcorn!" Pennywise cackled. "Is that your favourite?" When Holly nodded his smile stretched even wider, further distorting his features. "Mine too!" He exclaimed, his excitement practically palpable. Holly felt her own smile forming. "Because they go pop-pop," he quivered with laughter, an unsettling laughter, the sort that sends goosebumps pricking the flesh but Holly was too caught up in the illusion. "Pop-pop-POP." Holly giggled.

"Pop-pop-pop." She mimicked. Both began giggling but as Pennywise's rose in hysteria Holly's became more strained and scared. When Pennywise abruptly cut off Holly took a few moments to stop. His face was unsmiling now, instead it was cold to the point of unfeeling and stared at Holly with such an intensity as if completely seeing through her. Her smile slipped off of her face. By now the light had faded to the point where Pennywise was once again shrouded in shadows, the small amount seeping in only enough to illuminate his crimson lips and chalky chin. No one said anything, Pennywise just continued to stare with a sort of hungry gleam in his eyes.

"I, I should go." Holly muttered, her voice trembling.

"Without your boat?" Pennywise held the yellow paper up to the light. "You can't lose your boat Holly," his voice had so far been devoid of emotion. "Bill's gonna kill you." Now it held a sinister undertone, filled with malicious intent and dangerous conviction. His mouth once again curled upwards in that awful smile only this one was much worse. It was amused in a twisted way and spoke of horrors to come. Holly really wanted to run away. The boat rose a little closer to her. "Take it. Take It Holly." The tone was heavy with anticipation, his smile wider now and more predatory as Holly hesitated. He shook the boat in his hand, holding it up further into the light. She was definitely cold now. Drenched through and cold and she just wanted to go home.

She stretched her hand into the dark, jamming her entire arm into the drain and resting her head by the curb when she realised that she was too small. Just as she curled her fingers around the folded lip Pennywise relinquished his hold on it. However, before she could withdraw he lunged forward, his jaw unhinging like some demonic snake's and circular rows of serrated teeth whirred like a saw. Quick as a flash the boat disappeared into the darkness again, splashing into the grey water along with the arm that held it. Blood dribbled down his chin as Holly screamed and scrambled back. Her left arm had been torn completely from her socket and red droplets mixed with the still falling rain and ran down her coat. The ends of ripped veins and nerves hung limply from out of her sleeve and as she flopped onto her belly to wriggle away, screaming all the while from fear and pain, all that was left of her arm was a gnawed, bloody stump. Still shrieking she tried getting to her knees to crawl. From the drain a long white hand extended out towards its prey. Where fingers should be there were talons, long and black and gleaming under the rain. The sharp claw like thing clamped onto her leg just above the galosh. She was yanked backwards, dragged into the blackness of the storm drain and into the belly of the beast. "MIKEY!" She warbled before she was silenced.

The old lady from before hurried to the window as fast as her weary bones would allow, peering into the horrific weather to try and see the little girl. All she saw was an empty street and a large reddish sort of puddle, one that was already being washed away. Little Holly Wheeler was no more.

© ELIXB | 2020