The infamous Neibolt House, a chilling landmark in Derry, stood ominously before the Losers Club. Bikes were hastily abandoned as a sense of dread permeated the air. Armed with makeshift weapons, they prepared to confront the unimaginable horror lurking within, unaware that this descent into the darkness would bring them face-to-face with their deepest fears, embodied by It Pennywise The Dancing Clown.
Entering the dilapidated house felt like stepping into a nightmare. Bill, ever the leader, cautiously pushed open the creaking door. One by one, the Losers ventured inside, their resolve battling against the rising tide of fear. Even Stan, the ever-hesitant one, was urged to join, the mantra “stick together, we’ll win” echoing in their minds. They descended into the depths of the house, reaching the ominous well that seemed to breathe a silent promise of terror. Richie’s attempt at humor with a quarter for a wish in the “fucking thing” did little to lighten the heavy atmosphere as they peered into the abyss. Ben’s call for Beverly into the well was met with an unnerving echo, amplifying the sense of isolation and the unknown that awaited them below.
Mike, resourceful as ever, discovered ropes nearby, providing a means to descend into the well’s darkness. Securing the rope to an old hook, he tested its strength, ensuring their precarious path downward. Bill, brave and determined, took the lead, rappelling into the well. Followed by you and the rest of the group, they journeyed into the bowels of Neibolt, venturing into an opening in the well wall, deeper into Pennywise’s domain.
Unbeknownst to the others, Beverly lay unconscious in another part of Pennywise’s lair, cold greywater the floor of her prison. Blood droplets from above jolted her awake. Disoriented, she stumbled, falling into the murky water. Gazing upwards, she saw a large door looming before her, emblazoned with the terrifying words: “Pennywise the Dancing Clown.” The door was barricaded by a grotesque collection of items, remnants of Derry’s missing children, now floating eerily above her. Panic began to set in as she frantically tried to open another door, the metal protesting with each desperate pull. Suddenly, a sinister music box melody filled the air, its tune heralding something truly horrifying.
“Step right up Beverly! Step right up. Come change. Come float! You’ll laugh. You’ll cry. You’ll cheer, you’ll die. Introducing Pennywise the Dancing Clown!” boomed a distorted voice from unseen speakers. The music box screeched to a halt, and a miniature clown figure popped out, a grotesque harbinger of the terror to come. With a violent thrust, the door flew open, revealing Pennywise the Dancing Clown himself. Distorted circus music erupted, an unsettling soundtrack to the macabre dance that began.
Beverly could only stare, paralyzed by fear, as Pennywise, the embodiment of her nightmares, moved with unnatural, jerky motions. Every twitch, every distorted gesture was designed to instill pure terror. Desperate, she tried to flee, but Pennywise was too quick. He lunged, seizing her with a chilling grip. “I’m not afraid of you,” she declared, her voice trembling despite her attempt at bravery. Pennywise, with a grotesque sniff, recoiled in mock disgust. “You will be,” he hissed, his voice a chilling rasp. His mouth stretched into a monstrous maw, revealing an abyss of light and the faint, horrifying screams of children. Beverly’s eyes, wide with terror, glazed over, turning a lifeless grey as she was released, floating upwards, another victim ensnared by It.
Meanwhile, back in the well, Mike, focused on their dwindling ammunition, was ambushed by Henry Bowers. A brutal blow from behind sent Mike crashing down, a scream escaping his lips. Henry, fueled by malice, severed the rope, cutting off the Losers’ escape route. “Get the rope!” Eddie shrieked, panic gripping the group. “Shit!” you exclaimed, realization dawning upon them.
Henry’s taunts echoed down the well shaft, his words laced with cruelty, reminding them of their parents’ fates and his own twisted satisfaction. “Run Mike!” you yelled, urging him to fight back. Mike, despite his pain, grabbed his gun, attempting to load it. Henry, however, was faster, snatching the weapon and pressing it against Mike’s head. The click of the gun being cocked amplified the terror of the moment. Mike struggled desperately against Henry’s grip.
“I sh-should get up there, I–” Bill stammered, his heroic instincts kicking in. “What are you, insane?! With what?!” you retorted, desperation in your voice. Just as Henry was about to pull the trigger, Mike, with a surge of adrenaline, deflected the gun at the last moment. The shot rang out, missing its mark. Seizing the opportunity, Mike grabbed a rock and smashed it against Henry’s head. Stumbling backward, Henry lost his footing and plunged into the well, his scream fading into the darkness below. “Holy shit!” Richie and you exclaimed in unison, relief washing over you.
Mike, looking down at the stunned faces below, reassured them, “I’m okay guys. I’m alright.” He attempted to send down the remaining ammo, but it slipped from the well’s edge, plummeting into the abyss. Stanley, overwhelmed and terrified, retreated further into a side tunnel, isolating himself from the group.
“Stanley,” a voice called out, deceptively sweet, yet chillingly familiar. It was Beverly’s voice, but twisted, wrong. “Beverly? Is that you?” Stan’s voice cracked, hope and fear warring within him. A sinister giggle echoed back, not Beverly, but Pennywise. The clown appeared in the tunnel, his gaze locking onto Stanley, a terrifying grin spreading across his face. Stanley gasped, turning and fleeing into the labyrinthine tunnels, only to be confronted by another manifestation of his fear, the flute lady, who seized him, dragging him deeper into the nightmare.
“What?” Eddie asked, sensing the shift in the group’s dynamic. “Guys where’s Stan?” you asked, your voice trembling with fear. “Stanley!” Eddie and Richie called out, their voices echoing in the tunnels. “Stan?!” you cried again, your heart pounding in your chest. Suddenly, the ground gave way, and you, Richie, and Eddie plunged into a pool of stagnant greywater. “Oh shit it’s greywater,” Eddie groaned, the stench filling their nostrils. The rest of the group, minus Stanley and Beverly, followed, landing in the foul water.
Then, Stanley’s scream pierced the silence. “Help!” he shrieked, his voice filled with pure terror. “Guys, this way!” you yelled, urgency driving you forward. “Shit, we’re coming Stanley!” You all rushed towards a door, frantically trying to pry it open. With a final surge of combined effort, the door yielded, revealing the horrifying scene unfolding before them.
“Stanley!” you and Eddie yelled in unison. Stanley was pinned down, his greatest fear, the flute lady, attempting to devour him. “Holy shit!” Richie screamed, the gruesome sight shocking them to their core. The flute lady vanished as the Losers rushed to Stanley’s aid, shaking him, trying to rouse him from his terror. He was bloodied, marked with teeth wounds, gasping for air as he awoke, hysterical and disoriented. “You left me! You made me go into Neibolt! You’re not my friends!” he rambled, tears streaming down his face. “Stan we would never let anything happen to you!” you cried, desperately trying to comfort him. “Stanley I’m sorry!” Eddie yelled, guilt and fear overwhelming him. Richie and Eddie embraced Stanley, their own tears mingling with his. You all huddled together, trying to quell the tremors of fear that ran through them all.
In the midst of the chaos, Bill’s gaze was drawn upwards. A vision of Georgie, spectral and beckoning, appeared before him. He rose abruptly and ran towards the apparition, his presence leaving the group. “Bill!” you yelled, fear clutching at your throat. “Ah shit, Bill!” Richie screamed, his voice echoing through the tunnels. Leaving Stanley in the care of Eddie and Richie, you and Mike followed Bill, venturing deeper into the wellhouse. Bill, fixated on Georgie, reached the central chamber, his flashlight beam cutting through the darkness, illuminating the grotesque heap of children’s belongings. And then he saw her – Beverly, floating lifelessly in the air.
“Beverly!” he cried out, running towards her. He jumped, reaching, but she was too high, suspended in Pennywise’s macabre display. He spotted a stool amidst the pile of discarded items and dragged it over, a desperate attempt to reach her. Another fleeting glimpse of Georgie, and then he refocused, his determination hardening. He looked at the floating Beverly, a silent vow passing between them. “I’ll come back for you, Bev.”
“Bill!” Stan’s voice called out, a faint echo from behind. Eddie, walking through the greywater, stumbled, plunging deeper into the foul depths. “Ugh, get out of there dude that’s greywater.” The water was deeper than they realized, swallowing Eddie’s flashlight. “Wait where’s my fucking flashlight?!” he yelled, frustration and disgust in his voice. Suddenly, decomposed heads surfaced around him, bobbing in the greywater, their vacant eyes staring upwards. Screams erupted from the group. “What the fuck?!” you and Richie yelled, revulsion and terror gripping them. “Let’s get the fuck out of here!” Eddie shrieked, scrambling out of the water. They fled through the greywater, desperate to escape the horrifying vision, finally reaching the central chamber of the wellhouse, unknowingly converging where Bill was facing his own terror, all under the malevolent gaze of Pennywise the Dancing Clown.
