PLEASE STOP, YOU'RE SCARING ME!

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DEAD BOY (book one).
°• CHAPTER ELEVEN •°

" TIME TO FLOAT! "

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SOME DAY, DERRY WOULD JUST BE A BLUR IN DAXTON'S MEMORY. He hardly remembers the other towns he was in, ranging from New Hampshire and even doing a stunt in Vermont once. Most days he would only sit and wonder when he'd eventually have to leave. Others, he'd be taking off from the foster houses, seeking to take care of himself instead. Either way - Daxton Shields never stayed in a town for too long. They became lost in his memories, some days he could not remember something as simple as the name of the city, or even the surnames of his foster parents or siblings. He never stuck around long enough to make those memories of his childhood more permanent.

The streets of Derry are currently a blur to the corner of Daxton's eyes. He's much too focused on the road he's speeding on, each pump of the pedals bringing a new ache to his leg muscles, and he's well aware Bill is no longer leading them with how far he was ahead. He was heading straight for the Neibolt house. Derry becomes darker and darker the further they ride their bikes down the path that leads them to it. It being, well... It. Or the harboring secrets they were becoming too close to discovering. The bright green grass shining in the summer begins to fade to a dull brown, the sun is starting to become hidden behind clouds, and the trees guarding the sidewalk lose their leaves the further they drive in, leaving their twisting branches pointing to the abandoned house on the end of the street.

Bill was already there when they reach the fence keeping the Well House closed in, climbing the steps and inches away from the door. "Bill!" Beverly shouted in desperation, being the first brave soul who was left to throw her bike next to Bill's abandoned one. "Bill, you can't go in there. This is crazy," she insisted. The rest of them join her and do the same as Beverly pushed past the gate's fence door until each of them, lost children looking for both guidance and bravery, is standing on the dry lawn.

The Neibolt house is even worse now that Daxton is staring right at it. It was haunting, unmoving, frozen in time as if it should be moving, attacking them. It was also so old that the wood, rotting, was barely holding it together, having turned blacker than ash. Leaves are scattered, fallen from the trees as if it was fall, and they crunch from curling up under Daxton's sneakers. The door Bill had approached was barely standing on its hinges, but he pulls away from the knob to face them.

There's no more fury radiating off of him. Bill only looks sad, desperate, and concerned for them. "Look, you don't have to come in with me," their courageous leader starts. "But what happens when another Georgie goes missing, or another Betty, or another Ed Corcoran, or one of us?" He demanded. Here, now, this was all of his built-up sorrow and grief over Georgie was spilling out in a speech. "Are you just going to pretend it didn't happen like everyone else in this town? Because I can't. I go home and all I see is that Georgie isn't there. His clothes, his toys, his stupid stuffed animals, but he isn't. So walking into this house, for me..." Bill squares his shoulders. "It's easier than walking into my own."

Shit, Daxton curses silently in his mind. No one there dared spoke a word to interrupt the speech Bill delivered with more confidence than he's ever held before. Every word Daxton takes to heart and drove him into silence, lips parted in shock. He's never experienced loss, or grief, and has never missed someone as much as Bill did. But this must be Bill's second chance to do things right, to find answers that have been eating at him until he was a shell of the boy he used to be about his missing brother, and Daxton would be the biggest asshole in the world if he stepped in his way. He doesn't want Georgie to become a memory.

Richie let out a long breath that drew them all back to reality as Bill turned to the door again. "Wow."

"What?" Ben asks.

"He didn't stutter once."

This time, Daxton didn't hold back his thought and cursed in a mumble, "Shit," before shaking his head. He knows they can't let him go in alone, he's known this since they've mounted their bikes after the attack and sped after him through Derry on what they were aware was a suicide mission. Daxton knows now without a doubt he's crazy because he's willing to follow Bill Denbrough into the house where the monster inside was waiting to devour him whole because these were his people, his own little band, where a bond was forged and could never be broken. Not even by the clown.

"Wait!" Stan exclaimed as soon as Beverly's shoe meets the first step of the decaying porch. "Um, shouldn't we have some people keep watch? Just in case something bad happens?" He suggested quietly with a shuffle of his feet.

He's afraid. He's more frightened than any of them, and Bill knows it wouldn't be fair to force his friend into the house. He nods, his blue eyes flickering past each of them before questioning them, "Wh-wh-who wants to stay out here?"

Everyone's hand except Beverly and Bill's shot in the air.

Daxton felt like it was an instinct that forced him to raise his hand in the air like his body had a mind of its own that was separate from his, and the one that had taken control was truly afraid. Richie glanced around as everyone's hands sheepishly lowered back to their sides. "Fuck," he whispered.

And Daxton feels the same frustration despite his earlier beliefs when Bill decides the only way to choose who goes inside was to pick from a line of straws because of course his luck runs out right then and there when he picks a straw that's no longer than his pinky finger. However, Daxton may be crazy - just this once, but he's not a crybaby or a sore loser. Charlie decidedly tosses his straw after declaring it was no bigger than Daxton's, leaving Bill, Richie, Eddie, and the foster brother's to venture inside.

Goosebumps are creeping across his skin as Bill pushes the creaking front door open. Daxton braces himself prepared to be attacked then and there on the porch and lose a limb, but nothing happens. It's oddly quiet. He swallows thickly, and sends a burning stare of fear to the back of Charlie's head, before following them inside. Daxton wasn't afraid of the door falling off its hinges or the floor breaking underneath the weight of five boys. He was much more scared of what was hiding in the shadows.

Grime covered with dust paints the decaying walls. Plants of weeds and vines crawled up the walls from where they were sprouted out of the ground. The shattered windows were boarded up with wood that was beginning to break apart and streams of light broke through. The furniture was either covered in dirty sheets once white or split and shredded. But the stench was the worst of it. Daxton can't even inhale without smelling the stench that burns his nostrils, spreads into his lungs, then dances across his tastebuds because he's sure he can taste it. He knew without a doubt he didn't want to know what was causing it. But he doesn't look back to the door left open where the rest of his friends were keeping watch, padding across what looked like it used to be a living room.

Richie shook his head. "I can't believe I pulled the short straw. You guys are lucky you're not measuring dicks."

"Shut up, Richie," Eddie ordered without any real bite in his tone. His eyes land on a dusty rocking chair. Then he looks away, shoulders hunching as the muscles in his body tense. "I can smell it."

"Don't breathe through your mouth," Richie advised.

"How come?"

"'Cause then you're eating it."

Eddie gagged, slapping a hand over his mouth before he could vomit. His other hand flew to unzip his fanny pack and yank out his trusty inhaler that he takes a few puffs from.

Repulsed, Daxton shoots Richie a look so he doesn't have to gaze at the shitty walls. "You know, we're in a house with a clown ready to pop out like something out of The fucking Shining. You really have to be yourself? Now?"

"Yes, now," Richie insists. "Have you ever expected anything more from me?" Daxton rolls his eyes and turns away because no, he hasn't. He doesn't notice how Charlie's head swiveled, glancing between the pair with the faintest of smiles twitching on his lips. But he must know this isn't the time because no words fall.

There's a pile of papers fluttered around a web of thin vines that Richie reaches. His eyes glaze over them, curious before he plucks one from the bunch. His thumbs draw across it to smooth out any creases before freezing where he was. "Rich?" Charlie speaks up as the rest are brought towards him. "What is it?"

"It... It says I'm missing."

They crowd around Richie as a group, and Daxton's heart starts to sink as he sees the paper's print over Richie's shoulder. The letters were faded like it was held, read too many times. Richie's smiling face was plastered beneath the words in a black and white image. Bill shook his head, happening to be the only calm one in the group of five. "Y-y-y-you're not missing, Richie," he tries to ease him.

"Police Department, City of Derry," Richie read aloud. His hands started to shake, words coming out more frantically as he pointed to the picture. "That's my shirt, that's my hair, that's my face - !"

"Calm down!" Bill attempted to snatch the poster from Richie's shaking hands, but they somehow hold a tight grip on it. "This isn't real - "

"That's my name, that's my age, that's the date!" Richie's voice rose. "What the fuck?!"

Daxton's lips mashed together tightly before he jerked forward and rips the stupid piece of paper out of Richie's hands because Bill couldn't the second he sees tears pooling behind the glasses. He makes sure to crumple it until it's nothing but a little ball that no one could see. He couldn't bear to look at it any longer. "This isn't real, Richie! Okay?"

"It says I'm missing! Am I missing?! Will I disappear?!" Richie panicked in a cry. His eyes are even wider than normal behind his glasses.

"No!" Daxton says over him. "Don't think about that picture. Look at us." Richie falls silent although his lower lip is quivering. "This is what It wants - to play tricks on you. To make you afraid. Don't give It that."  Their eyes remain locked together as Daxton's words start to process through Richie's thick skull. Daxton waits, watching as he slowly calmed himself down before they only break it because of a soft voice drifting to them.

"Hello?"

It's so soft Daxton would have missed it if he wasn't expecting it from the house of horrors. The floor beneath them creaks even though none of them moved an inch, paralyzed from the sound. He wants to close his eyes and turn in the other direction it came from, but the mind that isn't his own takes over, forcing him to slowly swivel.

A door across from them is pushed open seemingly on its own. A body was laying behind the frame, knotted, raven hair covering their face. The exposed skin is covered in drying blood, decaying bruises like they were rotting away.

"Betty?" Bill gasped quietly.

"Ripsom?" Eddie finished, pulling his fingers out of his mouth from where he had been chewing at the nails.

"Help me, please!" It screams, the echo of the shriek lingering as the body is dragged away from behind by an unseen force. Daxton flinches, his heart pounding behind his ribs as if it was following the direction she was wrenched off in.

The hall she's violently forced down is narrow and long. Daxton keeps repeating his earlier words to Richie in his brain until it pounds, that this isn't real, It wants them to be afraid. He can't get It that satisfaction. They move next to the crumbling staircase. He feared much more than a step collapsing under the weight. Daxton knows he's there and he's very much alive, behind Charlie and Bill but so close his shoulders nearly touch theirs once they're on the second level. It's there that his knees, already unstable from climbing the staircase, start wobbling. What he said suddenly means nothing. He is scared. The fear has been rolled up and called itself Daxton Shields like that's all he was made of now.

There are too many doors to choose from after they ascend. Daxton doesn't know where they should go, what they're even doing. Are they searching for a dead kid? Or just answers? He isn't sure, and he isn't about to turn the wrong doorknob and end up getting his face chewed off. Bill doesn't seem to be certain of where he's leading them either as each step just brings them to the end of the hall.

A sudden squeak of the floorboards causes Daxton and Eddie who were at the end of their line to freeze. Every willpower and instinct Daxton has is screaming at him to get the fuck out now, but he doesn't move. He's positive his legs will fail him any second and he'll plummet as he looks over his shoulder to where they came. The hanging light seemed much dimmer and does nothing to bring light to the shadow waiting. There's something there, and both Daxton and Eddie know it.

Their worst fears are confirmed when a raspy voice emerges. "Eddie... What are you looking for?"

"Do you hear that?" Eddie asks with a shudder. Daxton's mouth must decide it doesn't want to move and speak because all he can do is timidly nod. He's not fucking deaf but the other three must be as they're too far ahead to overhear.

Wheezes escape Eddie's throat as one of the many lines of doors opens, and, nope, Daxton's had more than enough of this shit. He seizes Eddie's arm and they both take off, putting enough distance between themselves and whatever was about to emerge as possible.

Suddenly, the floor in front of them crumbles into nothing. "Shit!" Daxton would have fallen in the opening hole if it wasn't for Eddie's rush to scramble grabbing ahold of his shirt, yanking him backward. He hears a shout of his name from who must've been Charlie before a door slams shut so loudly it reverberates off the split walls.

The pair have no choice but to stare helplessly into the gaping hole until a hand lays itself over Eddie's shoulder, and they now have no choice but to turn and face what's behind them. Daxton's stomach churns and he gags in revulsion at the new sight. He's now staring down at what Eddie described before as the leper. It's beyond anything Daxton has ever been disgusted by, skin covered in welts, snot dripping from Its crooked nostrils, the blank, pale eyes are uneven, one sliding down Its cheek. Daxton's hand slides to grasp uselessly at the wall as he backs up so he doesn't fall.

Don't get Daxton wrong, it's fucking disgusting and a thing pulled of nightmares, but it isn't his fear. It's Eddie's. So It doesn't reach out for him, only leaning closer to Eddie who seemed to grow paler. "Did you take your pills, Eddie?"

That's enough for Eddie whose eyes fall shut as he faints with a gasp of fear, and before Daxton can reach out and grab him with a yell of his name, Eddie's wrist is already slipping through his fingers. He's powerless and can only watch as his friend lands in the mess of wood on the ground with a loud crash. Daxton whips to the side, expecting the leper to still be there, but It's not. All that greets him is a shadow.

He shakes his head in dismay and kneels, carefully keeping his balance. "Eddie! Eddie!" He calls breathlessly. Shit, Daxton doesn't know what the fuck to do. He can't go the way they came and the rest of the hall is a dead end. Eddie's not even stirring. Maybe he hit his head -

A scream tumbles recklessly through Daxton as the sturdy floorboard he's pressing his bent knees against cracks and crumbles to dust over Eddie's body. His legs swing as his hands fell to quickly grip the boards stuck out as if his life depended on it. It's like he's hanging over a cliff, fingers scraping to grab ahold of the broken floor desperately as his legs flailed in repeated kicking motions, feet searching for their solid flooring instead of midair. The broken chunks leftover dig into his stomach, leaving each breath he takes to be painful. Daxton grits his teeth as he tries to bear it, giving a weak attempt to pull himself back up. It does next to nothing. He can't even get his elbows beneath him.

It's no use. It wouldn't be long before he fell, too.

Daxton's struggling to pull himself up, which only ends with him failing to do so, again and again, ceases when he hears heavy footsteps. Something was crawling towards him and he sees what it is when a twisted clown's face appears, only a few feet away from his own.

Its body is deformed, almost like a pretzel as it practically slithers across the ground. Its mangled arms drag the rotated torso closer. Daxton watches in horror, listening to the awful cracking of Its bones and limbs. He almost lets go of the wood before realizing the state he's in and scrambles to hold on, unsure if he's more afraid of the clown or falling at a height like this. Daxton does the first thing he thinks of when he's the victim, the prey, stuck, backed into a corner.

"So, what is it, huh?" He spat. "I'm already dangling to my fucking death - " He knows that's an exaggeration, but whatever, "What the fuck do you wanna try, huh? Turn into a fucking dog and I'll rip your fucking muzzle off!"

The threat is empty and they both know it. The clown's large head cocks knowingly, so fast that Its neck cracks. "Oh, the little Shields boy, such a spitfire, hm?" It hummed. "But we all know what goes on in that... Hm, what's the name? Flamer's head?"

Then Daxton hears it, only it's not the clown saying it. It's Henry Bowers. He's managed to find a permanent spot in his mind where he can always torture him with different gay slurs because he was a piece of shit, and It knew. It knew what went through Daxton's mind. He clenches his jaw as the bruising pain spreads further through his chest. He can't hold on much longer.

"You think your biggest fear is only those feelings? Those lingering stares on other boys?" The monster snarled all while it crept like a warped snake.

The knot in Daxton's gut doesn't undo but this time he screams back with as much courage he can muster, "Fuck you!"

"No, no, no. I can smell it, can taste it..." Its tongue dragged across Its lips, wet with drool. "You're afraid to be alone. All abandoned, no one to ever love poor Daxton Shields, buried six feet under where I can eat the weeds, and still be able to taste your fears."

It lunges then, jaw clicking as it unhinges, with every intention to swallow whole what little of Daxton it can reach. But It's too slow as Daxton doesn't think because he knows there's no other option before he releases what little was once holding him up, feeling the feather-light touch of Its teeth grazing his hair.

It wasn't like falling off the Quarry's cliff after Richie pushed him. There's a relief spreading in his ribs that thanks him from the released pressure and he can still feel the wind as gravity defies him, the fast plummet in his stomach from the weightless feeling, the powerful fear from falling at such height, but his soaring only lasts a second. He doesn't plunge into the surface of water that would have normally broken his fall. Daxton lands on the ground, hard, his feet unable to catch his weight and prevent any injury to his body.

The ankle of his right foot sparks like a firework before blowing completely. Daxton hears a scream so unlike him but knows it came from his throat when it rubs raw. He fell to the side, his hand flying out to grasp the hot limb that throbs under his touch. His muscles are screaming even louder, tensing, but Daxton doesn't feel a bone out of place, and he can wiggle his toes with minimal strain. It's not broken - lucky him.

Daxton tries to stand, but every shifting movement he makes or pressure on his feeble ankle sends another shot of pain through the limb. Making a run for it wasn't an option, and he has no idea where the others are, all of them except for...

A soft groan fills the air next to Daxton. He wants to kick himself for almost forgetting as he rolled over and saw Eddie was still sprawled next to him, trying to slowly bring himself to a sitting position. Daxton's injury was nothing compared to the state of his poor arm. The bone was completely split in half. He expects Eddie to start screaming at the sight, but he doesn't. It's like he's in shock, eyes widening as he just stares at the broken arm he now cradles with his free one.

"Shit, Eddie," Daxton gasped out. His voice sounded raspier with how much dust he's inhaled, how many times he's shouted it was sore.

Eddie still doesn't scream, but Daxton can see tears pooling in his eyes. A few escape and leave smudges across the dirt that cakes across his skin. "It - fuck, it hurts," is all he cries out.

Daxton's eyes softened. He knows the pain Eddie must be feeling is nothing compared to what shoots through his ankle and foot, and there's nothing he can do. "I know," he whispers. "I - I twisted my ankle when I fell, maybe sprained it - I don't fucking know..." He draws in a breath. They have to get out of there, but he can't walk, and Eddie can't carry him. This was a new wave of being powerless Daxton has never felt before. He jacked up his ankle to avoid being eaten, and now they're stuck in a house, being split from their friends that they don't even know are okay -

All of a sudden, something in front of them rattled. Daxton wasn't moving before but now he froze completely, gaze landing on a rusted fridge. It was smeared with some brown grime, or something else dried that he didn't want to think about. The door was slowly pushing open but only a crack before a gloved hand's fingers gave a tap, tap, tap against the door. The clown was there, taunting them, putting on a show.

The small door pushed open, and it's beyond Daxton how that clown could have ever fit inside the tiny opening, even with Its body folded as it was. A deep, horrible laugh rings in the room and sends a shiver directly down Daxton's spine. It slowly started to leave the space It had squished itself into. Bones cracked, limbs squelched back into place, even worse as it twisted to place Its torso back into place, the sounds forever haunting Daxton's mind. It somehow seemed both pissed Its meal got away and amused they were there now, damaged, unable to take off this time.

Then Its back hunched over into a curve, lips curling into the most devious smile that not even the devil could hold. "Time to float!"

Daxton uses his one good foot, the other being dragged, and Eddie uses his one good arm to scoot themselves back, so close that their hips brushed against one another. The clown took Its time, taking slow steps towards them, Its clown shoes thumping against the floor. Eddie's jaw drops and he wheezes like he lost his breath. Daxton doesn't even consider his friend needed his inhaler as he stares down the clown, his body shaking in terror as they listen to It mimick Eddie's gasps for air until their backs hit a wall, and It is crouched inches away to be at their level.

This time, Daxton really is the prey backed into a corner. And he's afraid. He's so scared. It feeds off of that, and it makes him pissed off too. All he can do is puff his cheeks and pucker his lips as spit flew from his parted lips. "Eat me, motherfucker," he sneers like it's a dare as his salvia slides down the clown's cheek.

Its cat eyes blink, stunned, before the grin is wiped away and replaced with the darkest scowl. It grabs ahold of Eddie's hand when he tries to smack it away. It pretended to take a bite out of it, making Eddie yelp and flinch as if it would. Then It jerkily lurches forward to grab ahold of Daxton's throat. He gasps louder, regret filling him because he could only be brave for one second before that disappeared. Its fingers curl tightly against his windpipe and his ears start to ring. It isn't going to let go without a fight, so Daxton gives it to It.

His fingers scrape at Its arm, his nails shredding into the skin as he wheezed louder than Eddie in an attempt to catch his breath. Daxton can feel blood staining his fingertips, but his fight grows weaker, his chest burning from the lack of oxygen. But he doesn't stop even when he sees Its jaw widening, prepared to sink into his flesh. He thrashes whatever limbs he can even when his ankle and stomach screams in protest, continuing to try and rip Its arm off of him, despite only managing to gouge past Its clothes and skin.

Then It stops - all of it. The hold on Daxton's throat loosens and he gasps as loud as he can, desperately filling his lungs with air, as Its head whipped to the side like something had gone wrong. Daxton can't make a sound other than his choking puffs for air, so Eddie does. He can faintly hear the boy shout in a shrill plead, "Help! Help!"

The hand pining Daxton to the wall finally let's go and he fell to his side, coughing in splitters as he tried to inhale and exhale correctly again. His throat burns, his neck was practically on fire. And he cries. His are softer than Eddie, so the clown's hand fell to cover his face. Daxton wants nothing more than to curl into a ball there, squeeze his eyes shut, his hands over his ears until he truly was as much nothing as he felt he was.

But the door to the kitchen swung open and Daxton hears a shout of his name, "Dax!" And his head lifts.

There stands Bill, Richie, and Charlie, but it was Daxton's foster brother who did it. Their eyes connect for only a second before It rises, towering over them who jump back in fear. It cocks Its bulbous head, Its skin cracking. "This isn't real enough for you, Billy? I'm not real enough for you?" It demanded, offended before It smirks, realizing It has Bill locked in.

"It was real enough for Georgie!"

Bill gasps out loud as if all air had been knocked out of his lungs and he was left destroyed. The clown's eyes glow the same color as Its hair as It leaped, arms outstretched towards the boys who scream and cower away, as Daxton screams again, "Leave them alone!" In the terror that he was going to lose not only two of his closest friends but his brother, too, who shields his face and waits for the impact that never came.

Beverly charged in like a superhero from a comic, planting herself in the middle of the attack with a rusted, metal rod that she plunges into Its head with a war cry. Daxton hears Its skin tear and makes a wail like It was in pain. Good. Daxton prays It felt it. The rod It was stabbed with stuck through Its temple to Its jaw, misshaping Its head. Blood floats from the wounds, droplets of the red liquid drifting in the air. Beverly's breath gets caught in her throat and retreats, putting distance between herself and the damage she did to It, the ones they left outside as guards pouring into the scene one by one afterward.

"Get them," Bill is mumbling to snap Richie and Charlie out of their dazes. "Get - Get them."

The clown is left behind as Charlie is the first to dive past It and sticks himself to Daxton's side. "Hey, Dax, are you okay?" He panics over the rest of them, quiet, but it's the only noise Daxton hears.

"My - my ankle," he chokes out, hurrying to grasp ahold of Charlie's forearms. Daxton winces as he makes an attempt to help him stand, proven to be useless, and he's stuck between leaning on the wall and clutching his foster brother.

The rest of the group is making frantic, screaming words from the clown and the sight of Eddie's arm, and Daxton can't understand anything with the chaos from where he's now dead silent, only panting as the clown whipped around, Its jaw crooked sideways from Its head as it whirls around to face them. They all become the prey at once as Its arm outstretched, the hand morphing into claws that shredded the glove It was wearing to dangling ribbons. But none of them bite back out of the fear shocking them to the core.

It stalks towards them like the monster It is, faking lunges that make them scream again. Daxton so desperately wants to shut his eyes and bury himself into Charlie's shirt from where he has a death grip on him, but none of that happens. He's now embraced being the prey, tears leaking down his reddened cheeks, knowing there's nothing else he can do as the victim. Then Its arm flung out, spinning around with a horrid laugh that Daxton knows will forever be in his nightmares, using Its sharp claws to slash at Ben who cries out and falls backward into Mike, a hand clutching his now bloody stomach covered in slashed gashes.

It fakes one last dive towards them that makes the frightened group jump and scream their hearts out. "Stop," Daxton sobs because he wants the world to stop turning, he wants to live, he wants to clown to fuck off. "Stop, stop, stop." And he doesn't expect it to work.

But it does. It delivers a mocking bow with a wave of Its hand as if this was all a show from a circus they were watching. Finally, It backed away to the exit, disappearing through the open door without looking away from them. Then It's gone, into the darkness that swallows It wholly and leaves them alone. For now.

Eddie was wildly screaming now that his shock and adrenaline wore off. Daxton can't bear to look at his split arm any further and latch onto Charlie's arms. He cries out loud as soon as his feet are flat on the ground, holding him up, and can only press the tip of his sneaker against the floor and shift all his weight to the side. Daxton wants to scream again, but he can't. He believes he can taste blood from how raw his throat became.

"It's okay," Charlie pants out, hoarse. "Hey, hey - Dax - It's gone. We'll get you out of here." Daxton yearns to press his forehead against Charlie at the promise, but all he does is keeps his arms around him, face pressed against his shoulder, staining his shirt in droplets of tears. He would have crumbled if it wasn't for Charlie keeping him upright.

"Okay! I'm gonna - I'm gonna snap your arm into place!" Richie suddenly yelled over them to Eddie.

Charlie looked past Daxton and numbly shakes his head. "Richie, m... Maybe you shouldn't," he tries to object.

"Do not fucking touch me!" Eddie screams back in warning.

Richie figured it's best to ignore both of them and started counting. When he hit three, Eddie repeated his warning in another yell, only for Richie to snap the broken half of his arm up with the intention of helping him but possibly bringing the wound into a worse state as it cracks. The awful snapping noise it made causes Eddie to let out another shriek of pain along with many loud curses that reverberate through the house and follows wherever the clown vanished to, as does Bill.

Their leader straightened and shot forward like a rocket, expecting his friends to follow his steps, even the injured ones. "Don't let It get away!"

"Is he fucking joking?!" Daxton hisses, trembling hands clenching into fists that leave Charlie's shirt crinkled. Bill had stopped at the doorway, close to the stairs. But he can't stay. They have to get the fuck out of that house.

"Bill, come on! We have to go!" Beverly desperately demanded.

They're soon all yelling Bill's name until he has the sense to retreat back to the chaos of screams chorusing together. Eddie is the loudest of them all, cradling the arm that must hurt like a bitch even more now thanks to Richie's doctored skills. And Daxton knows it's time to get the fuck out of the decaying house, even if their fight with the child-eating clown is far from being over with.

He can't wait for the day Derry becomes a memory.

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author's note:

introducing me realizing i'm not the best horror writer. i'm definitely no king like stephen king but i hope it passes as semi-good anyway.

and daxton shields being terrified out of his mind but still trying to square up with the clown? iconic. wish i could.

a bit of daxton's softer side for his friends was shown and i'm just proud ,,, he goes from barely speaking to words to them to seeing them as family and i just love him sm. he's growing. the next chapter will be even better so i'll try not to spam you with updates again but y'all already know me and my spontaneous ass 😉 see you soon! ❤️

- koda

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