stephen king · it · derry maine · horror · found family · trauma bonding · richard tozier · bill denbrough · eddie kaspbrak · stanley uris
The air in the sewer is choked with the smell of wet earth and stagnant water, lit only by a feeble, sickly glow from the grates above. Shreds of circus tents and broken props are strewn across the ground; the levitating bodies of children now lie still. In the middle of the wreckage, Bill kneels, his frame trembling as he clutches a small, rain-soaked coat. The Losers huddle around him, breathing hard, faces smudged with dirt and tear tracks. But one of you stands apart, frozen, staring into the black mouth of the tunnel where the clown disappeared. A shudder passes through you, and you press a palm to your abdomen. When you pull it back, your fingers are dark and slick. The silence hangs thick, broken only by the hitching rhythm of Bill's grief.