Chapter 10: A Work of Art
Her body trembled underneath his huge silhouette. No one plays with fire without getting burnt one way or another. If she thought she's already seen the worst of Pennywise, she was terribly wrong. It could all go much smoother, little by little, but she was giving him no choice. Every inch of her belonged to It now, and It was about to prove it. Mark it. He was going to make her forget about the whole wide world, until there's only his power in her mind. He'd show her what is power. He'd show her control. But he needed both hands free for that. The thick material on the Clown's back gave in as two accessory limbs had emerged, growing from his spine, long and angular like a spider's. They pierced her sleeves like huge pins and Madeline was scared as never before, tussling, trying to kick him off of her, but he didn't even flinch.
"Now, where should I begin?" Teased Pennywise, removing his grip from her wrists to her throat, touching the almost healed bruise deliberately. "No, I've already been here." He went lower, with face mere inches away from her body, and came dangerously close to the girl's frantically beating heart. The rhythm of blood rumbling in such haste was like the finest melody to his ears. He ripped the cleavage of her shirt down to the ribs, taking Madeline's muffled cry with pleasure. Suddenly, fingers of the monster's right hand grew almost twice as long, because of the claws oozing out of his flesh. Bringing one to her chest, just in between her breasts, the creature watched as she momentarily stopped breathing, going completely still. 'You're a smart girl. But that's not going to help you this time.' He was savouring the moment, feelingas the sensitive tissues parted under the sharp edge. With one, firm pull he cut into her skin, making a long red line down the breastbone and smiled viciously, when a silent scream left her throat.
"Yes, little one. Scream all the way you like. Scream until your lungs go dry, no one's gonna hear you." She only managed to whine, as something wet and snake-like slithered on her skin, licking off the blood flowing from the cut. He's been waiting for this for so long, the taste was irresistible. Sweet like ripe fruit, like moltrn honey, like sugary syroup. Grabbing her by the ribs, Pennywise drew in closer with a groan, and sucked into the wound hungrily. Madeline's legs curled, and she didn't feel much pain, but numbness and a strange tingling, not just under his touch but also inside. Feeling his lips move there in a certain way brought an unusual emotion upon her. Dread and panic mixed with... something else. Only she didn't know what was it yet. Although the girl did not give up on trying to free her wrists, after a while, she eased a little, though the tingling only rose, beginning to really hurt. Her mood didn't go unnoticed for the bloody kiss started relocating to various places, leaving red traces on her skin. Every time his teeth brushed against the area, a shiver crept down her spine.
"Lost the fighting spirit so soon? Tsk-tsk." The Clown murmured, wandering up to examine her face again. "Maybe I haven't determined you enough." Seeing his entire jaw blotted with her own blood, Madeline felt like she was going to faint, but she wasn't given such opportunity. Pennywise's claws scraped their way down her side and hesitated around the hip. He wasn't done yet, and she was way more fun when she tried to resist him. It wanted to see the spark, that panic rising in the girl's features, and was not disappointed. The eyes gazing at him weakly, bolted open with alarm, then widened even more, as she realized how it hurt to take a deeper breath. She couldn't see it, but the upper area of her shirt was practically drenched in blood.
"Oh, how I adore that look of yours... Sweet, sweet girl. You're mine." In a couple seconds, that sweet girl was about to get to know the disadvantages of wearing a skirt. It was torture. Pure torture. She tugged at her sleeves again. "I knew it since I first laid eyes on you. You. Are. Mine." She felt the sharp spots on her thigh and winced, while he was gloating over her expression. "Say it."
Oh no, she was not going to say it. The girl just clenched her jaws in a silent act of defiance. I won't let It have this satisfaction.
The Clown groped her leg fiercely, nails digging into her flesh. It seemed like neither of them was going to drop it. "Say it. Say it out loud!"
She didn't. Growling at the girl warningly, Pennywise hiked her leg up and pressed to her as close as he could.
"I wouldn't risk it if I were you." He teased, but deep down inside knew that even if she did as he ordered, he wouldn't hesitate to go further, oh no. The warmth of Madeline's flesh against his own and in between his teeth was all he cared for right now. Just when the claws dug in deeper, her sleeve tore up at last and she swung the freed hand towards the monster's painted face to strike it. Unfortunately, it dropped lifelessly halfway through along with her whole body going slightly loose. Why? The blood loss had dried her completely off of the energy and strength. She suddenly felt dizzy, and wasn't even looking at him no more, but towards the light, struggling to keep on breathing. There was a moment of stillness between the two. He stopped, realizing that in a minute Madeline was truly going to pass out. It might have forgotten just how weak humans were since he's never intended to spare one. The predatory part of him was obstinately urging him to go on and satisfy the craving, that burned inside, but... His body shifted carefully, and those huge spikes began to recoil back, releasing the girl. It was a ridiculous thought, but the creature wasn't really sure what to do. Just now he put it under consideration. What was he going to do with her? What has been done was done, the situation was a point of no return. Like a beautifully bizarre painting, she was exposed on the ground; a delicate figure layered over cruelly with small nicks and scratches, all dominated by the one, which marked her core.
A strange thought enlightened Pennywise's mind. An idea. A completely bonkers one but just as tempting. Dipping the tip of his claw in the liquid, he created his own brush, and brought it to her face. Starting on the left corner of the girl's mouth he drew a smooth, red line that sheered off under the eyelid, up her pale cheek, and then a short, pointed one above the eyebrow. Madeline hardly paid any attention to the Clown's actions, so he made the second, symmetrical one. Now she truly was a work of art. His work of art. Surprising, that just now he noticed the similarity in her eyes — bright eyes, that always had a hint of gold in them. The sparkle was dimmed, but at times it would glow lighter than his own with no eternal power hidden inside.
The idea of losing her filled It with sudden worry. One could think it was the very first time It felt that way, and it was a feeling stronger than hunger.
Driven with the new emotion, he sat her up gently so no more blood would be spilled. Then held her weak body securely in his arms. She was just as limp as a ragged doll.
"It's alright, it's alright. I won't let this be." Pennywise whispered, face buried in her hair. "I don't want to lose you."
Madeline's never thought it would come to this, but from the distant place she's found herself in, somewhere between consciousness and daze, she heard those words filling her head and soul. In the most absurd way possible they gave her comfort, and just before she passed out, the girl almost imperceptibly returned his gesture.
It happened in happened rather differently than she'd ever expect, under tragic, violent circumstances but, despite all, she got a hint of what she's been longing for.
When the darkness finally swallowed her, she was dreaming. Dreaming of herself. Her lips moving inaudibly, pronouncing one sentence over and over again.
I'm yours, I'm yours, I'm yours...
This is taking too long. This is taking way too long. I shouldn't have let her go by herself. How selfish does one have to be to put another's life at risk to save their own! Cowardly, irresponsible moron! Mike paced nervously in his bedroom. It was 3 in the morning, and he still hasn't slept one bit. It has gotten to the point in which there was no other thought in his mind but Madeline's unfortunate fate.
Maybe she's just lost, even we were lost and couldn't find the way out. Things like this happen, and the sewer system is practically a maze, so it's possible that she's just on the wrong track, but then of course she's completely alone! Oh what on Earth was I thinking... And on he went, choking up with guilt and regret. The image of the Losers safe at their homes, wherever they were, had blinded him, and now he had to face the consequences. He knew there was not much time left, and if objects could speak, the telephone on the nightstand would probably be screaming at him. The man could almost hear that little blatant voice saying: 'Come on! Grab that damned handset! With It still inhabiting this planet their existences would be incomplete anyway! Just use me already! Wasn't it you who said things happen as they're meant to? Huh, Mike?'
Trying to shut his imagination down (because it was just his imagination, right?) Mike buried his face in his palms. He's just been in this cursed town for too long. Maybe it's driven him insane, maybe...
Then, he heard a couple of splashy steps come by. Thinking it was only his exhausted mind playing tricks on him again, the man did not look up at first, but the sound seemed so authentic, so clear and haunting, he just had to. What appeared before his eyes, made the man's mouth go wide agape in horror. First, there was a pair of soaked trainers, one untied. Then, two dirty, pallid legs, unnaturally thin as if they were bones alone. A blue skirt turned brown, a shirt ripped in half revealing a revolting, deadly wound and pus leaking from it's torn edges. But the most direful was her face. From underneath the mess of tousled locks beamed an absent gaze. She was dried out of life.
Mike's legs went stiff like arid sticks, and he felt sick just from the sight. The horrid imitation of what was supposed to be Madeline stared blankly at him, through him and into him.
A scream was caught in his throat. Only the repetitive drops of water trickling down her arms loosely hanging on her sides. Seconds turned to hours, and the man was still paralyzed, not daring to move even when she spoke. Especially when she spoke.
"What, are you afraid now, Mike? You're worried now? Should've been worrying before you sent me away to encounter the being you were too scared to face yourself!" The girl spat at him with contempt. "Look at me now. I said look at me! Look at what you've done! This is your fault!" She started to sob, crying her eyes out with bloody tears.
Mike fell to his knees, grounded by the emotional weight of it all, like a sinner before the altar. That awful sensation. He was breathing it in like a scent. It smelled of filth and violence. Hasn't he felt it before?
Indeed, he did, and the realization hasn't come to him until Madeline's sobs transformed into a genuinely amused laughter. Her tone became low and rough. Not hers.
It.
"Ah Mike, Mike, Mike... Did you really fall for this?" That lifeless corpse was just It's puppet. It was hiding behind a mask as always. "Ha! You're even weaker than I'd expected. It's a relief I hesitated, because now I think killing you'd be just a waste of time. I almost pity you." Those big, now golden, eyes and a crooked grin directed at him warningly. It was still there, still powerful.
"I have to say thank you, for making her come to me at her own will. I hope you didn't expect she'd defeat me all by herself, because that'd be ridiculous even to think of. Right, Mikey?" Then, as It gave another malicious laugh, the lights went out and the man's heart was beating so fast, it should've jumped out of his chest by now. He got up hastily, trying to figure out the surroundings, but was fiercely interrupted by a grip of a huge hand on his throat. Mike gagged, grasping for air, but the grip was firm.
"Now, listen up, you lout." The same, ferocious voice hissed from the darkness. "Don't ever try to mess with me again. Don't you dare to even think of it. And if you will, I assure you, I'll drive you insane, and then I'll kill you all. I'll be tearing you up, piece by piece until there's nothing left of you, understood?" Even if Mike wished to answer, he just wasn't able to. "Oh, and one more thing. Forget about the girl.
She's mine."
And just like that It was gone like a mist or an echo or a dreadful promise. The shaken up man ran straightly towards his nightstand, almost tripping on his own feet.
Six calls were made. Six were answered. Five brought the desired results, and ive people left their homes, but with no ease whatsoever. Four of them were men and one was a woman, all of them grown up, and yet the same as twenty-seven years ago. Before they'd unite, back in their hometown, almost two days were supposed to fly by, and they had only one enemy to defeat, with hundreds of lives to save. There was supposed to be a special one, but none of them knew about it yet. Somewhere there, in the dark, one, young heart pounded in a rhythm different than theirs.
