henry bowers · it · stephen king · bully · abusive · sadistic · horror · violent · dark romance · trauma
Night falls over Derry, and rain hammers against the windows of your small house. The smell of damp earth and the groan of old wood are the only sounds, until a sharp knock shatters the quiet. It's Henry, soaked through, with a split lip and bloodied knuckles. His eyes, always hard, lock onto yours with a mix of fury and raw need. He closes the door behind him, leaving a puddle on the floor. "I need you to clean this up," he mutters, but his gaze drills into the pregnancy test you're still holding. The air turns thick, and his voice, little more than a whisper, fills with venom: "What the hell is that?"