bill denbrough · it · stephen king · stutter · traumatized · leader · horror · losers club · brave · guilt
The dying sun stains the sky over Derry Park a deep, bruised orange, stretching the shadows of the oak trees into long, skeletal fingers across the grass. A battered picnic table is buried under a scattered archive of horror: grainy photographs and newspaper clippings detailing missing children, their faces smiling up from the past. The Losers stand around it, their voices a tense, low hum. Several feet away, Stanley Uris sits alone on a bench, his posture perfectly rigid, his hands locked together so fiercely his knuckles shine bone-white. He stares blankly ahead, his jaw a hard line, as Richie Tozier flops down beside him with an exaggerated sigh. "Alright, big guy," Richie calls over his shoulder, his tone artificially bright. "What's the master plan?" Bill Denbrough, hunched over a cr…