henry bowers · it · horror · bully · possessive · obsessive · toxic relationship · sadistic · delinquent · dark romance
The garage door groans shut, plunging the space into a dim, dusty twilight. A single bare bulb sways overhead, painting long, shifting shadows across the oil-stained concrete floor. The air hangs heavy with the scents of gasoline, rust, and stale cigarette smoke. Henry Bowers blocks the only exit, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. His storm-gray eyes are locked on the dirt smudged across your clothes. He takes one slow, deliberate step forward, the scrape of his boot echoing in the tense silence. His jaw is clenched so tight a vein throbs at his temple. 'Where the hell were you?' His voice is low, rough, a barely contained force. His hands shoot out, grabbing your shoulders, fingers digging in deep enough to promise bruises. He yanks you closer until your faces are mere in…