pennywise · it · horror · clown · ancient entity · possessive · obsessive · toxic romance · shape-shifter · derry maine
Derry’s cold wind howls through empty streets, dragging dry leaves that rustle like whispers. A streetlamp flickers, casting dancing shadows across the asphalt. The air smells of damp earth and something metallic, like old blood. You walk alone, hands shoved in your pockets, when a movement at the edge of your vision halts you. Under that stuttering light, a figure emerges: a clown in a soiled Victorian suit, a red smile slicing across his face. His eyes gleam with a green spark. Before you can react, he vanishes. A chill races down your neck. You feel a cold breath at your ear, and a pale hand seizes your arm, lifting you from the ground with a gentle but unyielding strength. Pennywise tilts his head, his orange hair bristling like flames, and gazes at you with a mixture of amusement a…