We all arrived at the Inn at the same time, Richie and Eddie were the first ones to leave their cars. Ben lingered behind, waiting for Bev and me to get out of our cars and reach the front doors before walking into the Inn. Bev immediately went to the front desk and Ben pestered her. I didn't want to get involved in that little spew, so I just brushed by with my phone against my ear and a woman from the Greyhound hotline typing away on the other side in search of my kids' bus. It was one of the most frustrating phone calls I've ever had to endure and trust me...I've endured a lot. "I'm sorry ma'am, there's no way I can tell if your son purchased two tickets."

I sighed, rubbing my temple as I came to a stop at the rounding staircase. "Are there any more stops before the one just outside of Derry?"

A few more seconds of her typing keys and she stopped. "If it's the route you're thinking that he took, then they should be arriving in Boston around 8 am."

"Okay, is there any way I can call the Boston station and let them know to be on the lookout?"

"No ma'am, the station isn't open for another few hours. They were shut down due to minimal repairs within the building." As if she could sense my frustration, she let out a small sigh. "I'll go ahead and email the head agent over there and let him know to be on the lookout for your kids' description. And then the moment they open, I'll give them a call. You said that you already have someone set to pick them up if we find them on the bus?"

"Yes, yes, my mom should be arriving in a few hours to beat them there. Her name is Carol Merritt."

"Alright, I've noted it down and I'll be sure to go ahead and let the head agent over there know. Is there anything else I can do for you, Ma'am?"

You mean besides, find my kids?

I sighed, brushing the response from my brain. "No, thank you. You've already been a great help."

"Have a good day, Ma'am."

Day? What did she mean to have a good day? It's only like 9:30 pm. I checked the time on my phone to see that it was in fact, almost 12:30 in the morning. We couldn't have stayed at the restaurant for that long, there was no way. It had felt like maybe an hour...not almost four. I put my phone into my jacket pocket and finished walking up the stairs to see Richie standing in front of my door, digging around in his jacket pockets and mumbling to himself. "What are you doing outside of my room?"

He jumped slightly, brushing off the scare and raising an eyebrow. "You're room? No, this is my room."

"Uh no, I have a key." I brought out the hotel key from my purse and waved it at him. "And you?"

"I have a key!" He mumbled, shaking his jacket before digging further into his pant pockets, coming up empty and looking at me. "Well, I checked in first!"

I rolled my eyes and walked over to the door, brushing him out of the way and unlocking the door. "Mike must have booked the room for the two of us." Pushing it open, I stepped aside and let him walk in first.

Richie scoffed harshly as he walked over to the window side of the bed and bent down, picking up a suitcase. "Yeah. Well if he didn't know then, he definitely knows now."

"Oh don't you get all pissy with me. It's not like you didn't know we were getting divorced." I picked up my suitcase and placed it onto the bed, pointing a finger at him. "It was your idea!"

He turned around sharply, adjusting his glasses on the brim of his nose. "Well, you filed and publicly served me!"

My arms lifted in the air, only to drop back down to my sides just a fast. "You told me to file! For some stupid money shit or whatever the hell your idiot, asshole of an agent drilled into that hollow skull of yours!"

His face twisted into anger, but I took advantage of his pause before he could fire back at me. "I didn't want to! I wanted to go to counseling! I wanted to work it out and you–" The arm I was pointing at him with, dropped and I shook my head as he continued to avoid eye contact and move around the room, collecting his things as fast as he could. "And you just ran away from it like you do every slight inconvenience that marches into your life."

My voice quivered at the end of my rant and Richie stopped moving around the room for the first time since our argument began. I turned away from him, opening my suitcase and digging around in it so he couldn't see the tears that were building in my eyes.

"Is that what you think, Dani?" His voice was soft, which only made the tears in my eyes build quicker and my heart race. "That you're an inconvenience in my life?"

I sniffled and wiped beneath my nose before returning to the aimless wandering of my suitcase, only to grab my gun and it's holster, pinning it to my pants. I zipped up the suitcase and picked it up, placing it onto the floor and finally looking back at Richie. "Only for the last 10 years, Rich."

"Okay I've got all of my bags, do you assholes have every–" Eddie barged into our open room, stopping at the entrance. His eyes took in the situation and he too could probably feel the horrible tension between Richie and me. "Did I just interrupt the potential break-up sex?"

"No."

"Yes, uh no." Richie corrected, clearing his throat.

Eddie looked between the two of us and let out a soft, awkward laugh. "Well uh, save the making of my future niece or nephew for later because it's time to leave this fucking hellhole." He turned to walk out of the door, looking down at his bags. "Oh wait, nope. I forgot something."

I let out a small chuckle as he disappeared back down the hallway. Richie and I stood in place as the awkward silence swallowed us whole, but I'll be damned if I let it take over once again. I picked up my suitcase and walked out of the room and into the hallway, the sound of Richie's footsteps showing that he was right behind me. "What did uh," he cleared his throat, "what did the Greyhound people say?"

I looked at him, a little surprised that he didn't for once indulge in the silence like he always did. "Well, they couldn't verify his tickets with me, but they said that if he's on the bus I think he is, then it stops in Boston at 8 am before heading up this way." We walked down the first set of stairs, coming to a stop at the rounded part. "She said she'd email the Boston station and tell them to be on the lookout once that bus stops. My mom's on her way there now and said she's checking into a hotel for the rest of the night until the bus is supposed to stop. Then she'll intervene and get them."

"God, he's a mastermind, isn't he?" Richie laughed to himself, shaking his head. "Like an evil boy genius."

"Yeah, well where do you think he gets it from, Rich?" I saw him wince out of the corner of my eye, knowing he took my statement a lot harsher than I meant for it to come across. "Not me, that's for sure. I could never plan something like that."

Richie smiled and pushed up his glasses. "Now Dani, are you telling me that you forgot our great Portland escape of '92? You, me, my dad's shitty 1980 chevy? That worked out perfectly."

I smiled, my brain instantly knowing just what he was talking about. It was the summer that Richie and I had both gotten our licenses– he before me, of course. My mom was out of town and wouldn't be back until the next afternoon, Richie's parents never really cared what he was doing– it was perfect for a spontaneous adventure. I'd told my mom that Richie was going to house sit with me, only during the daytime, per her rules and that everything would be fine and she had nothing to worry about.

In reality, hours after she left, Richie and I dressed up and took his dad's truck two hours south to Portland to see some unknown college band play a gig in some hole in the wall, bar downtown. I never knew how Richie did it, but he managed to get us a few drinks and when we finished up jamming out to the band, we drunkenly wandered over to the old lighthouse and fell asleep beneath the stars. When we woke up, a Police Officer was bombarding us with questions about why we were sleeping on the ground in the middle of the afternoon, if we were on drugs and how old we were. Richie, the smooth talker he is, pulled a story out of his ass about how it was our anniversary and we were college kids from New York, traveling through and doing some sightseeing, but just passed out from exhaustion. When the guy let us go, we booked it to his car, Richie sped back to Derry and dropped me off in my driveway just as my mom and Benny were walking out of the front door.

"Yeah, it all worked out until we got back and my mom and Benny greeted us at the front door." I laughed, picturing the look on Benny's face the moment he saw Richie helping me out of the truck. It turned out that my mom was surprising me with Benny for my 16th birthday...and she left town to go pick him up. And imagine her surprise when she came home and I was nowhere to be found, yeah...I was grounded for the rest of the summer. But that night with Richie made it worthwhile.

"Oh yeah, true." Richie cringed, obviously reliving the memory as well. "God, he stills scares the shit out of me." We rounded the staircase and kept walking down. "We made a pretty good team back then, huh?"

I nodded, smiling up at him as we reached the bottom. "Yeah, I miss it."

Richie looked to see Bev and Ben having a serious discussion and walked over to them, leaving me with both suitcases. "Whatever you guys are talking about, let's make it happen fast, alright? We've gotta go." He came back towards the stairs and looked up. "Eduardo, ándale, let's go!"

"Cut him some slack Richie, he said he forgot something," I rested against the staircase, the phone in my pocket feeling like a brick as my thoughts lingered back to the kids. "I mean, you saw how many bags he had."

"Yeah, God who packs two suitcases for a short trip?" He scoffed, crossing his arms. "Well, let's not count out the one he possibly forgot."

"Bev, there's something you're not telling us," Ben sighed, standing in front of a defensive Beverly. I stood up straight and walked the few steps over, standing behind Ben and catching Bev's eye. "You knew how Stanley died, you knew."

Richie appeared beside me, apparently hearing Ben's statement as well. "Wait, what?"

I crossed my arms and looked at Bev with concern. "Bev...what does he mean that you knew?"

Her eyes moved between the three of us constantly before staring at the floor. "I can't do this."

Ben turned to follow as she walked by Richie and me before heading towards the front desk. "She knew how Stanley was going to die? Is that what she just said?" Richie asked, grabbing my hand to drag me behind him as we followed Ben. "Did I imagine that shit or is that what she really said?"

"I-I...I don't know, Rich." I mumbled, staring at Bev who was heading towards the front desk.

"You can't just walk away from this!" Ben called after her, coming to a stop right behind her at the desk. "How did you know where he killed himself?" Bev ignored him, walking around the desk. "Talk to me! Talk to me, just like we used to!" He blocked her from walking out from behind the desk and stared at her. "Come on, how did you know?"

"Because I saw it," she sighed, looking up at him before turning her teary eyes towards Richie and I. "I've seen all of us die."

My stomach dropped into my shoes and I squeezed Richie's hand, to feel him squeeze back. My mind instantly went to Matthew and Madeline. If this was true, Bev's vision about all of us dying...they'd lose us both. At 13 and 10, they'd be without their parents and living with my mom. There'd be no more morning arguments with Matthew about cleaning up his cereal bowl. No more late-night guests in my bed coming from down the hall. No more of Matthew trying to help me solve my cases. I wouldn't see them go to college, get married and have kids of their own...none of that.

If we were dead, their lives would drastically change and it'd be all our fault.

Loud stumbling coming from the staircase tore our attention away from the severity of the situation, only to see Eddie struggling to carry two suitcases down the stairs and coming to a stop at the rounded part. "Okay, I've just got to grab my toiletries bag and then I'm ready to go." He looked up from his suitcases and immediately registered the looks on all of our faces because his slight smile faded into a frown. "What'd I miss?"

Richie just laughed, holding up both hands in defense as he shook his head. "Oh Eds, I'll tell you what you missed." He walked in between Bev and Ben and over to Eddie. "Not only is that creepy fucking clown back but apparently–"

Bev brushed past Ben and walked in the direction of the bar a Ben glared at Richie. "Richie cut the shit man. Don't freak him out more than he already is."

I watched as Ben sighed and walked over to Richie, trying to prevent him from stretching the truth the way he knew how– make it extremely dramatic. It was funny, watching Ben block Eddie from walking down the stairs with suitcases two sizes too big for him, and watching Eddie's facial expressions constantly change every few seconds as both Ben and Richie talked over the other. I peeked into the bar and saw Bev sitting down on a stool, already a drink in hand. I don't think anybody is going anywhere soon, so I walked into the bar and sat down next to her.

If there was one thing that I remembered about being Bev's friend, it was that if she wanted to talk about something...she would. You couldn't ask her straight up, especially if it was something that made her uncomfortable. You could try to get it out of her, but she would either stay quiet and never speak of it, or, if you let her come to you...she'd tell you when she was ready. This was one of those times. I could tell, even 27 years later, that Bev was still the kind of person who didn't want to put their burdens on those she cared for most. So, I did the only thing I knew that I could do...I just sat there with her with no other sound but the boys' voices lingering from just around the corner.

She brought the now empty glass down from her lips and placed it onto the bar, reaching out for the scotch bottle. "How are your kids? Were you able to find them?"

I smiled, knowing that this was her way of hopefully opening up the conversation. "If I'm right, the bus they're on is stopping in Boston at 8 am and the station already knows to look out for them, so now it's just a wait."

"...And the papers?" She poured the dark liquid into her cup, not stopping until she was satisfied. "Sorry that was really straightforward I just...you didn't say anything the whole dinner."

"Yeah, I know," I sighed, leaning onto the bar. "I just...I didn't know how to bring it up without ruining everything, you know? Plus, I kind of figured Richie would have said something since he got there before me."

Bev brought the cup to her lips as I got up from my stool and walked behind the bar, grabbing myself a cup and a bottle of Captain Morgan. "Nope, he didn't say a damn thing, typical Richie I guess." She took a sip before pulling the cup back from her lips and pointed at me. "I know I'm just regaining my memory back, but from what I can remember, you two were like...it, you know? That summer, our letters...you two were the teenage versions of your parents like you always hoped." She took another sip and her smile faded. "What went wrong?"

I sighed and poured the rum into my cup before bending down beneath the bar and grabbing a mini coke from the mini-fridge. "What usually goes wrong, I guess," I replied, mixing my drink.

Bev's eyes widened and she looked off into the direction where the boys were still arguing. "You mean?"

"Oh, no, he didn't cheat on me, at least not physically." I left the rum and coke within reach and sat back down on my stool. "Now emotionally? Well...his work was the other woman."

I reached across the bar for a stirrer straw and mixed my drink a little bit more before bringing it up to my lips for a sip. The smooth mix of the rum and coke made its way down my throat, the perfect combination to where the fizz of the coke masked the slight burn of the rum. I laughed shaking my head and looking at Bev. "Sorry, I'm just...I guess I'm just trying to figure out where to start."

She reached out and put her hand on my knee, giving me a reassuring smile. "Hey, it's like our girl talks all those years ago before I moved and everything." She moved her hand away and toasted her drink to me. "So start from where it's the most relevant."

I sighed and picked up my drink, taking another sip for strength before looking back at her. "The year Madeline was born, 2006. I mean, technically it started in 2005, but it went on hold went Madeline was born. She wasn't exactly planned, I guess." I took another long sip of my drink, sighing. "Richie had just found out he was joining Saturday Night Live and we went out to celebrate, a little pause in the dramatic dive our marriage was taken."

"Let me guess," Bev smirked, nodding at my drink. "A little too many rum and cokes?"

"And nine months later, Madeline was born. At first, we thought that maybe she would help us work on our marriage. That she'd be the thing that would bring us back together as one, instead of just him and I. But, once he got SNL, the jobs just...came out of nowhere. It seemed that every time I blinked, he was going out the door with his suitcase to fly to some location for a guest spot on a show, or a movie, and I was just...there."

I reached across the counter to pour a little more of the mixed drinks into my glass. "It's not like we didn't try to fix it, you know? We did. We went to counseling whenever we could. We put forth the effort to make it work and for a while, I think it was working, or we were faking it...I don't know."

She slid over a small basket of peanuts and took a sip of her drink. "If it was a problem back then...why are you two just now filing?"

I shrugged my shoulders, cracking a peanut and popping it into my mouth. "I don't think either of us really wanted to admit that there was a possibility that it was over, you know? Those first four years with Madeline, it was like we were on an autopilot track of just putting forth the minimal effort. Asking how our days were. What's on our minds, that kind of stuff." I reached for my drink looking into the glass. "And then I got the job offer for Detective in Pittsburgh and I just...I couldn't give it up. It was something I'd been working towards my whole career and there it was being offered to me six years sooner than it normally is."

"Is that where you live now? Pittsburgh?"

"Mhhm. Richie pushed me towards taking the job, surprisingly. I mean, he picked out the house and did all the research for the kids' potential schools. Seeing him push me towards my dream when he knew that I was second-guessing it...made me think that maybe this would all be okay. Maybe we really were making progress on the marriage." I took a sip and placed the glass down onto the bar. "We even came up with a plan, right? He'd stay up in an apartment in New York during the week for rehearsals and come home whenever he could, or I'd take the kids up there on the weekends. And then in the offseason when SNL wasn't filming, he'd come to stay in Pittsburgh and we'd be a family again."

"It was a lot easier said than done because, during the entire filming of his season, I think we were together once or twice. It was just...too hard traveling all that way with a seven and four-year-old, just for a short weekend. Which caused arguments and that turned into days without talking, which turned into our once or twice trips ultimately turning into none." I drew circles around the rim of the glass, hearing the small hum coming from the friction of the cold glass against my finger. "And then it was like we were back at square one."

Bev grabbed a peanut, cracking open the shell and tossing the nut into her mouth. "Well shit, then what did you do? Have you guys been separated for six years?"

"No, not six," I sighed and picked up my glass, taking a swig. "October of 2014, Madeline is playing in one of her rec league soccer games. Two weeks earlier she'd started to complain about not feeling well– headaches, exhaustion, dehydration, she had lost a little weight but she was also going through a growth spurt and the flu was going around her school, so I thought nothing of it. I just kept her home, gave her Pedialyte, tomato soup and sent her back to school after a few days on her pediatrician's recommendation."

"It's cold outside, so she's all bundled up and you can still just see her shivering on the sidelines, and when she's in the game, she's just slow and not attentive. So the coach takes her out and sits her down since he knew she had missed practices during the week because she hadn't been feeling well." I looked down into my glass, staring at the dark liquid as I thought back on the memory. "On her way off the field, she drops and just...lays there. She looked like a rag doll the way her limbs just folded beneath her."

Bev reached out and grabbed my hand, staring at me with supportive eyes as I tried to hold back the tears in my own. "She was unconscious but breathing when we got to her. We called 911 and she was taken to the children's hospital where they did a bunch of tests and found out that her blood sugar level was 620 milligrams and had pretty much gone into a diabetic shock. She spent a few days in the hospital and I had to learn how to monitor my eight-year-olds type 2 diabetes."

"Oh my God, Dani...I'm so sorry. She's okay now, right?"

I laughed, taking the last sip of my drink. "Yeah, she's fine. She's learning how to manage it for when I'm not around and only gets mad when I tell her she can't have an extra cookie."

Bev laughed, finishing off her drink before letting her smile fall. She must have realized that nowhere in that situation, did I mention Richie. "And Richie? Where was he?"

I reached for the rum and poured a little more into my cup, not bothering to mix coke into the glass. "Filming his movie in L.A. I called that entire night, but I couldn't reach him, his manager or his assistant. I ended up calling my mom, who called Benny...and both of them were there the next day. And Benny lives in L.A." I laughed ironically to myself, shaking my head and downing the rum, letting it burn down my throat before exhaling. "But not Richie, no. He didn't come into town until Madeline was already out of the hospital...a week later."

"Oh Dani, I'm sure that the movie just held him up, you know? That he wanted to be there–"

"No, he could've come Bev. He didn't answer his phone because he was out celebrating the wrap of his role and then was nursing a hangover the next day. What he was doing the rest of the week? I don't know, but he could've come home...he just chose not to."

She sighed, moving her hand up my arm and giving it a soft squeeze. "And that's when you decided it was time, huh?"

"I thought about it, but I think the real nail in the coffin was when he went on his press tour two weeks after Christmas. He'd told us that after this, he'd come back and we'd spend quality time together...just us as a family." I put the glass down onto the bar and slid it away from me. "But then he booked a residency at some popular stand-up club, got himself a nice condo and never came back."

I could hear the nervous laughter belonging to Eddie, coming from just around the corner and I turned to see Richie with both hands on Eddie's shoulders as Ben was trying to talk to both of them. "It's like he didn't even really care anymore and I think I was just tired of going in circles, you know? It's like as time went on, his work became priority and we were just on the back-burner. So, that Christmas Eve when he was home, we put the kids to bed, sat down in the living room and he decided that we'd get a divorce. He didn't even bother fighting for shared custody or for anything at all really."

Bev leaned back into her seat, a look of disbelief mixed with sadness spread across her face as she shook her head. "Wow, I just...I can't believe that you know? I thought you two...I mean the way you are around each other it's like you're–"

"Soulmates?" I asked, looking back at Richie with a sad smile. "Yeah, I thought so too."

All of a sudden, Eddie rushes into the bar area and walks up to Bev and me. "Beverly, we need to talk," He said, Richie and Ben, following soon behind him. "Okay so, what do you mean that you've seen us all die?"

"Yeah, cause I've got to admit. That's kind of a fucked-up thing to just drop on somebody." Richie added, resting against the bar as Bev got off of her stool and sat down in a lounge chair.

She took a deep breath and kept her hands in her laugh as she stared off and avoided eye contact with all of us. "Ever since Derry I've been...having these nightmares. People in pain, p-people dying, people-" She took another deep breath through her nose in an effort to keep her emotions and tears at bay.

"So you have nightmares!" Eddie laughed, pacing back and forth until he came to a stop next to Ben, who sat down on a stool beside me. "People they, they have nightmares! But that doesn't mean that your visions are true! Right, right?"

He looked at Ben and me for support and I popped another peanut into my mouth, avoiding his eye contact. I couldn't say for sure whether or not Bev's dreams were true, but the twisted feeling in my gut was telling me not to play it safe.

"I mean, come on! Not to be the bearer of bad realities, but don't you realize that this is insane?!" Eddie continued, picking his pacing up.

Bev took a shuddered breath, facing Eddie and shaking her head as the tears built in her eyes. "I've seen every one of us...we–"

"You've seen every one of us, what?" Bill asked, appearing in the front hallway of the Inn with Mike by his side.

As he slowly walked over to her and took a seat on one of the footrests, Bev looked at him with slow tears trailing down her cheeks. "The place that Stanley wound up...that's how we end."

"Okay, but how come the rest of us aren't seeing that shit?" Richie asked, gaining everyone's attention. "I mean, w-what makes her so different?"

Bill stood up, turning towards us all with a stoic look on his face before walking towards the bar. "The deadlights." Mike exhaled, looking us all in the eye one by one.

"Yeah," Bill huffed, holding a beer in his hand. "The deadlights."

"What the hell are...deadlights?" I asked, looking between Mike, Bev, and Bill who all had terrified looks on their faces.

"In the sewers, when we found her," Bill added, shaking his head. "She was the only one of us that caught in the deadlights that day."

"We were all touched, changed by IT," Mike chimed in, moving across the lounge area. "Deep down like an infection or-or a virus!"

Bev grabbed a new cigarette, putting it into her mouth and lighting it, while Ben stared off at the floor, looking as if he was in pain. I reached to pour myself another drink as my brain was flooded with images of a dazed Beverly floating in the sewers beneath Derry. A glass appeared in front of me and I looked up to see Richie handing me a rum and coke as he held his scotch in his hand. "Figured you'd need one."

"You always know, don't you," I replied, taking the glass and turning back to face Mike.

"A virus, do you understand?" He asked, approaching Eddie who only walked further away from his preachings, too afraid to come to terms with what he was saying. "It's been growing for 27 years, this whole time metastasizing. It just got to Stan first because–"

"He was the weakest," Richie said, in a bland tone and looking into his drinking glass.

"Jesus Christ Rich," Bill scoffed, shaking his head.

"Just saying what everyone else was thinking, man."

"He's right," I added, taking a sip of my drink and looking down at the patterned carpet. "Stan was the weakest. He...he never wanted to believe that it happened, you know? There was this time where–"

"Stop talking!" Eddie yelled, cutting me off and holding his arms up and letting them drop. "Just s-stop talking about Stan that way."

"I just...come on," Mike said, walking by me and standing by the window of the bar, facing all of us. "Whatever Beverly sees, it will come to pass. It's what'll happen to all of us eventually unless we stop it."

Eddie picked up his pacing, looking at Mike for only a few seconds. "How the hell are we supposed to do that?"

"He's got a point. I don't know about you, but I'm nowhere as near in shape and capable of doing those things I did when I was twelve."

"Well, lean beef over there might be able to. But the rest of us? No fucking way." Richie added, tipping his drink in the direction of Ben before taking a sip.

Mike looked at Bill, who nodded his head. "The Ritual of Chüd. The Native American tribe just outside of Derry, the first ones who fought IT. They have a saying, 'All living things must abide by the shape they inhabit.'"

"A tribual ritual?" Richie mocked, looking at Mike with wide eyes and laughing. "Are you fucking kidding me, man? Alright, there's gotta be another way. This thing comes back, what? Every 27 years? Let's just kick the can down the road and try again, then!"

"Wait, we'll be seventy-years-old, asshole!" Eddie replied, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, plus I doubt I'll have the energy to fight that stupid demonic clown then. I barely have the energy to do it now." I added, finishing off my drink and putting the glass back on the bar.

"It doesn't work that way," Bev spoke up, her voice soft as Bill made his way over to her and started to rub her shoulder. "None of us make it another 20 years," she gasped lightly, holding onto her chest. "and the way it happens..."

Richie threw back a shot as I looked at him, his eyes immediately moving over to mine and both of us thinking the same thing– what about the kids?

"I am way too fucking sober for this," Ben clapped his hands together sighing and looking up from the floor in disbelief. "So if we don't beat it this cycle, then..."

"We die." Bill filled in, turning back to the bar. "But if we go through with this, we can win. If we don't go through with this...we all die."

"Horribly," Eddie added. 

Richie looked at Eddie in annoyance. "Yeah, okay we didn't really need the horribly part."

Eddie stopped pacing only for a few moments, "I didn't say it, she said it, not me."

"Alright guys, look. I-I've seen w-wh-what he's talking about and," he came to a stop in the opening of the parlor, nodding his head. "It's all true. It's the only way. And if we want this ritual to work..."

"We have to remember..." Mike added, looking at all of us.

Richie downed another shot before resting his elbows onto the bar. "Remember what?" His tone was harsh, as he looked back at our childhood friend.

"It's better if I show you. We don't have much time, the cycle will end soon." Mike tucked his notebook underneath his left arm before turning around to look past the curtain and sighing as he turned back around and checking his phone.

"So in other words, we're fucked?" Eddie asked, so nonchalantly that I couldn't help but chuckle at his bluntness.

"No," Mike shoved his phone into his pocket. "But we won't do any good if we don't get at least a few hours of sleep. It's almost 2am, and there won't be any sort of daylight until at least 5. So we should all try to get some sleep and then meet back down here in the lobby at 5, okay?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to sleep after you just dropped this demonic nuclear bomb on me? Is a locked hotel room door going to keep this psychotic clown from sneaking into my room?" Richie asked, looking around at our group of friends who were slowly starting to move in the direction of the stairs.

"He's right, we'll need some kind of energy to focus and kill this thing," Bev said, stuffing her hands into her jacket and nodding her head. "So, goodnight. I guess I'll see you guys in a few hours?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna try and get some sleep too," Ben added, following behind Bev.

I started following suit as Eddie and Bill walked behind Ben, towards the stairs and picking up his belongings. I picked up my suitcase and turned to see Richie lagging behind. He sighed and came over to the bottom of the stairs, picking up his suitcase and looking at me. "You don't still snore, do you?"

I elbowed him in the gut and he let out a huff of air as I started to walk back to our room. "Beep Beep, Richie."