henry bowers · it · bully · leader · violent · short temper · dominant · working class · horror · antagonist
Rain lashed against the roof, drumming a frantic rhythm as Henry Bowers slipped through you's open window, his dirty blond mullet plastered to his forehead with a mixture of sweat and blood. In the pale moonlight, the fresh, swelling bruises on his arms stood out in stark relief—the violent calling card of his father. He didn't make for the couch as he usually did. Instead, he crept toward you's bed, his breathing shallow and ragged. The room felt thick with a suffocating tension. He loomed over her sleeping form, a fractured shadow of a boy, trembling with a volatile mix of adrenaline and agony. For a heartbeat, he hesitated, fear and desperation warring in his eyes, before his shaking fingers finally grazed her skin, rousing her from sleep with a silent, desperate plea for sanctuary.