I AM THE MONSTER YOU CREATED.

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DEAD BOY (book one).
°•        CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX        •°

"        I JUST HAD TO FEEL SOME-
THING AT THE TIME.       "

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DAXTON SHIELDS DIDN'T BELIEVE HIS KNEES COULD EVER FALTER. He's seen the human version of monsters, real monsters. Ones that had taken the shot the second they saw his army green uniform and tried to kill him. He had a few scars to prove that. The white one that crossed his temple and reached his eye after his biological monster of a mother threw a glass bottle at him. The scattered cigarette burns from scary teenage boys. And the healed wound on his shoulder after one of those monsters took a shot at him that ripped through the limb and almost left Daxton immobile use of his arm. Not to mention the ones no one could see. The ones he hid under his armor that somehow seemed heavier to carry than the metal itself.

Sometimes, above all, Daxton felt like the worst monster.

Daxton had been carrying this for so long that he knew exactly what to do to move downwards. The rocks are even slicker thanks to his earlier swim but because of his intensive training, he's done this a hundred times before. Daxton found his best grip was with the rocks facing downwards to find the proper friction. He avoided any rocks with a sloping face with both his hands and boots so he wouldn't take a plunge to the bottom. Daxton released the tension in his lungs with a long exhale once he's finished climbing downwards at such a height and his feet hit the ground, knees nearly buckling.

Their landing leads to an even smaller entrance. A light beams in between two rocks that is barely a few inches off of the ground, signaling it's their only way to move forward. Mike took the lead with a flashlight pointed ahead. "It's the only way through here!" He called to the rest of them.

Daxton stuck his arm out and pressed it over Charlie's chest when his brother took a step forward. He took a deep breath himself and sunk to his shaking knees so he could go first. He balanced himself on his hands across the boulders slick with mud to crawl after his friends. He had to keep his head hung low to avoid bouncing his skull off the solid wall above him. Daxton's broad shoulders almost got him stuck a few times, but he managed to push through by crossing his arms, clenching fists, and dragging himself forward with a wiggle of his hips until he reached the other side.

Once he was in a standing position again, Daxton rolled his shoulders back and felt a small crack in his back from being in such a compromising position. His blue eyes immediately fall over the cavern they had entered. It's unlike anything Daxton had seen before and that's saying something. He's lived through wars, as a child and an adult, and this scene couldn't compare to any other battlefield.

It was like they were upside down. The ground below the sole of Daxton's boots is made of concrete rocks melded together as if something exploded only to melt as one. Amid the warzone, the gravel had become jagged spear-shaped material that jutted out of the ground as if it should be falling instead of standing. Upon taking a slow turn, Daxton saw that for the most part, they were trapped. It didn't end. The boulders then formed stair-like rocks that enclose them inside. The only way out was the way they came.

Mike looked at them over his shoulder with a grave look. "This is where It hid."

For twenty-seven years, It had remained here. Who knows for how long before that? Daxton felt a chill even though it wasn't cold at all. In fact, he was so warm that he wasn't sure if his clothes sticking to his skin were from the harsh swim earlier or sweating puddles. Daxton swiped his wrist over his forehead before he could think about it too much.

"So all this had been under Derry for like... Forever?" Eddie wondered aloud.

"Not forever. Just a few million years," Mike answered as he guided them.

"Oh, so comforting," Daxton muttered as if Mike's response to the question was any better. He can't believe the hold Pennywise had on Derry for the millions of years before him. A selfish thought crossed him. Why did he have to be the one to end things? Hasn't he sacrificed and bled enough for it?

A sudden memory followed, accompanied by a deep feeling.

Nine kids clutch bloody hands, palms sliced with a shard of glass, in a field of dead grass that waves with a breeze of wind. Daxton's childlike face is among them, a face he almost didn't recognize, with its round cheeks and blue eyes solemn but full of hope.

And Daxton felt what he did at that moment twenty-seven years ago again. It ripped apart the selfish questions he had floating in his head and was replaced with a wrenching emotion in his gut from the oath he made. Daxton swore to himself on the life of the friends he loved that he would return to Derry and put a stop to this so that no other child would suffer as he had.

Never again.

Daxton flexed his hand and felt the scar on his palm stretch. A monster didn't create it, but it was because of a monster that it was there. This was for all of the children that Pennywise devoured. For the parents, siblings, and other loved ones who could never bury a body. Daxton was doing it for himself and his friends as well. Their pain deserved an end. The Losers were going to end it tonight, everything Daxton had already sacrificed be damned.

They assemble together carefully in the structure. Daxton grasped one of the jagged edges with the same hand he tensed to guide himself over with a swing of his leg. He quickly looked over his shoulder to see Charlie was there too. His brother's presence brought him to sigh in relief. If he was there, Daxton could do absolutely anything.

The platform below formed a slight swirl that Mike placed the bucket he guarded so closely to rest on. "It can only be attacked in Its true form. The ritual will show us that," he announced as they gathered in a tight circle.

"Let's not leave it a surprise, then, what's Its true form?" Charlie asked with his eyebrows furrowed. Usually, he and his brother knew what they were bolting into. The enemy on the other side of the battle was known to them. But this was beyond anything either could imagine.

"I hope it's a puppy," Richie suggested hopefully. "A Pomeranian..."

Everyone's eyes glared towards him.

"... I'll shut up."

As if Richie never cracked a poor joke, Mike continued. "It's light - light that must be snuffed out by darkness." He squeezed a container above the bucket to pour gasoline in. The smell of the liquid burned Daxton's nostrils. He already dreaded what came next. Mike lit a match next and dropped the stick into the puddle. Flames rise in its wake. "The artifacts. Place them in the fire," Mike instructed as he rose to his feet. "The past must burn with the present."

Daxton rushed to search his pockets once the words left Mike's lips. He had crammed the necklace in there so long ago he nearly forgot about it and feared it had fallen out when he dove into the lake after Bev. A wave of relief washed over him as his fingers brush the metal chain, curling around it to tug it out. Daxton kept the beaded chain wrapped around his fingers as the others finished retrieving there's.

A small, damaged paper boat quivers in Bill's hands. "This is the boat I built with G...Geor... Georgie." He took a step forward and dropped the paper into the bucket with a sad look in his eyes.

Eddie's hands tremble as he lifted a shaking object in his hands. Upon a closer look, Daxton saw what it was, and why Eddie seemed to be so scared to part with it. "My inhaler," he said quietly. He brought the rim to his mouth and pressed the button one last time to fill his lungs with the medicine. Eddie held his breath from there as if it would keep the air inside forever, chest puffed despite Richie's urging to let go, and tossed it into the fire as well.

To his right, Beverly unfolded a crusted, creased piece of paper that long seemed like it belonged in the trash. A sorrowful smile filled her lips. "Something that I wish I had held onto," she admitted softly before the paper is swallowed by the flames.

Another crumpled paper is retrieved by Ben from his wallet. He unfolded it slowly as if he wanted to hold onto it for just a little longer even if he hadn't parted from it for many years. "This is a page from my yearbook. Only one person signed," Ben remembered out loud. "And I probably should have forgotten it, but I couldn't 'cause... I kept it in my wallet. For twenty-seven years."

As it simmers in the fire into ash alongside the last of the artifacts made of paper, Charlie waved his artifact. The silver of the knife blade quivered in the dark. "I used to carry this with me to protect myself. When I... When I met you guys, I knew I didn't need it anymore." Daxton sees the hint of a smile on his face as he recalled his memories and how it felt when he engraved their initials into concrete. "I didn't need it until it held more value."

"Is that even gonna melt?" Eddie mumbled once Charlie had dumped it into the bucket too.

"No more than this." Daxton sighed. The dog tag at the end dangled as he raised the chain for them to see. "I... I got out of this town... Only to return after I finished my last tour." He tried to avoid Mike's eyes, but he can't, and he saw the surprise behind them. "I never stopped to say hi again. I'm sorry. I just had to feel something at the time." The tattoo of white poppies painted across his ribcage seemingly throbbed even though it was long-healed. "I guess I found it only to run away again."

The tag drooped to the end as Daxton held it above the flames. He hesitated for a single moment before his fingers finally let go. The metal fell into the bucket, swallowed by the fire. And yet, Daxton's scars were still there. He doesn't know if he's glad to be rid of the memories it carried or if he missed them already.

The touching moment was broken by Richie as he heavily sighed and shook his head. "Okay. Uh... This is a token from the Capital Theater," he said in one breath. He held what looked like a quarter between two fingers before flicking it into the bucket.

Eddie's judgment reappeared. "You brought an actual token?" He asked.

"Yeah, man. That's what we're supposed to do, asshole."

"Do you have any idea how long that, a knife, and a necklace is gonna take to burn?"

"Yeah, but so is your inhaler, dude!"

"Guys, come on," Ben tried to intervene.

" - All the toxic fumes and the plastic and shit? So?"

Charlie lifted a hand warningly. "I'll bash both of your heads together if you don't shut up," he warned. Richie and Eddie complied immediately under the threat. He nodded to Mike so he could finish them off now that everyone stopped arguing.

Daxton's as surprised as Mike was to see that he was holding a rock of all things. He turned it until a splash of red was visible over the fire's light. "Look closely, Bev. You see?" Beverly took a step forward at his request for a closer look. Then she nodded. "That's where you hit Bowers."

She released a weak, breathless laugh. "Rock fight."

"Go blow your dad you mullet-wearing asshole!"

Daxton's lips twitched into a smile at the memory of Richie screaming before flipping Bowers off. Then,

"Yeah, Homeschool. Welcome to the Losers Club!" He cheered as he clapped Mike on the back.

"Don't listen to him. It's a good thing," Charlie promised Mike.

"The day these bonds were forged," Mike declared. His dark eyes bounced between the rest of them.

Eddie patted Mike's shoulder. "That's not gonna burn either," he whispered.

Once the rock has fallen into the bucket too, Eddie suddenly lit up. "Wait." He shuffled through his pockets until he yanked out a floral shower cap. "Can't forget about Stan..." He winced. "... Again."

It's the very last of the artifacts to join the fire building from the objects feeding it. Daxton watched as it slowly started to turn to ash. His heart ached for Stan all over again. The grief felt as if it would never stop.

"Okay," Mike breathed as if he felt it too, "Grab hands."

Daxton shared a look with Charlie before clasping their left and right hands together followed by a reassuring squeeze. His other hand slipped into Ben's tightly while Charlie met with Eddie's.

"The Ritual of Chüd... It's a battle of wills. The first step was our reunion. The second was gathering the tokens. This is the final step."

Suddenly, the fire went out as if it was a candle and someone had blown into it. Daxton's heartbeat sped up and he squeezed his brother's hand again. The world above them slowly started to separate and Daxton's head tilted back when he heard the quiet crack. A light peeked through the cracks as well as a sudden gust of wind. It seemed to be groaning like it was alive.

"What the fu-fu-fuck is that?!" Bill demanded.

"Don't look at it!" Mike shouted. Daxton heard him, but Mike's words had barely pierced through his ears. His gaze was slowly locking onto the lights that had started to form three different balls that beam back.

"Are those the deadlights?" Eddie panicked.

"Don't look at them!"

Daxton snapped out of the daze before it was too late. He kept himself grounded by clutching Charlie's hand like his life depended on it. He squeezed his eyes shut as Mike started repeating himself, "Turn light into dark, turn light into dark - say it!"

Darkness clouded Daxton's vision but that didn't stop him. He followed Mike's instructions and shouted into the wind that picked up, "Turn light into dark!"

It soon became a mix of the Losers chanting into the darkness for it to become light. Daxton didn't know what it meant. He just trusted Mike with all that he had. With all the power Daxton could muster, he bellowed into the air, "Turn light into dark!" Again, again, again, and again. The wind picked up rapidly and Daxton sensed a strange heat near him before it was over. It all stopped at once when he heard Mike slam the lid over the basket.

It was almost deadly silent. Well, it would've been if Eddie had stopped chanting like the rest of them. Daxton was almost afraid to open his eyes. He carefully peeked one open. The light was gone, full of endless darkness once more. Daxton finally opened his eyes. It was as if nothing happened at all. Was that it? Was everything back to normal?

"Did we do it?!" Eddie asked anxiously.

Daxton refused to believe that was true. It couldn't be that easy. After twenty-seven years, It wouldn't let them off just like that. Deeper instincts that formed a rotting ball in his gut had told him the truth. Daxton glanced at Charlie anxiously, all while struggling to spit out, "This can't be it - "

A red balloon started to appear out of the bucket Mike fumbled to keep close. The rubber squeaked against the lid as he struggled and slowly started to fill larger. "Is - is this part of it?" Beverly cried in terror.

Richie is gaping at the balloon continuing to grow. "Mike, is this supposed to be happening?"

Above Mike's shout to keep chanting, Bill had already started, urging the rest to continue between his stutter of words. Daxton is less certain as, "Turn light into dark!" Fell recklessly from the lump forming in his throat thanks to the horror and dread of the spreading balloon. Soon, red is all Daxton could see.

It's too much for them to keep under control. Mike's attempt to keep it locked was no use. The balloon blew up further and forced them to retreat against the shards that it could've crushed them against. Daxton, through his panic, tried to keep his eyes on his brother and his friends, but it was no use. The balloon was too large. He released a terrified cry of Charlie's name before finally being pushed between the edges before the rubber can grind him into dust.

The balloon continued to grow until it towered over them, larger than humanely possible. The points of the edges dig into the crimson rubber. It's the very last glimpse of it Daxton catches before he realized, oh shit, finds the hand of Charlie again when it grabbed his arm, and yanked it so forcefully that he had to run among the others scattering. Daxton managed a few stumbling pumps of his legs before an exploding BANG is set off by the balloon popping.

When Daxton smacked into the ground from the force it brought, he doesn't hit gravel. He hits particles of sand. He hoarsely coughs on it as it grinds the chords of his throat. A green helmet is tightly secured with a strap around his chin, it's what broke his fall. His face is covered in warm, fresh blood. He can't hear anything. He was too close to the bomb that set off and took the lives of his friends, men he knew, with it. And for a long minute, Daxton thought he was back on the battlefield. He can't tell if it's his mind tricking him or if Pennywise had appeared to force him to see things.

Daxton blinked furiously and shook his head which was already rattling his brain from the blast. It was like he was underwater again. His lungs burn so badly in his chest that it felt like his gut was on fire. His eardrums were ringing so painfully that he winced as he brought his hand to one of his aching ears.

A trickle of blood stained his fingers and once again, all Daxton can think is, oh shit.

The rest of the Losers are scattered and searching for each other. Daxton had to blink again to see Charlie crouched above him, lips forming words he can't hear. It's as if the world has gone mute. Daxton waved a hand by his ears. He can't hear himself when he shouted, "I can't hear you! I can't hear anything!"

Charlie lifted a finger as a signal to wait before helping Daxton to his feet. He clutched onto the sleeves of Charlie's jacket and stared at his brother desperately through his winces of pain from the continued throbs that had started to rack his body. Carefully, Charlie snapped his fingers beside Daxton's left ear. He jumped at the soft sound it brought. Charlie did it a few more times until the muffling noise became clear.

"I heard that! I heard it," Daxton gasped.

"Good! Good," Charlie breathed gratefully. He brought his hand to Daxton's other ear quickly. He snapped his fingers again.

It was faint. Almost nothing.

Daxton started to panic. He raised his own hand this time and scratched at his ear, crying out with the pain that comes and the blood that started to paint his skin, but he doesn't stop. The piercing, endless nothing won't go away. Nothing. He can't hear out of his right ear.

And despite the dread twisting its way into Daxton's heart, he knew this was the least of his problems. Charlie pulled him close as the Losers gathered around him, gazes full of panic, asking if he was okay. Daxton could hardly hear them. It only made it worse.

The horror they all shared only grew when Beverly lifted the flashlight she had to hit a few times for it to work. The beam shone above their heads onto a monster that left them releasing a startled scream.

Between the cracks of the cemented shards, the cat-like yellow eyes to an overly large clown's face stared back at them. And the monster now was no longer Daxton Shields.

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author's note:

HI AGAIN. IM SO SORRY.

this chapter was inspired by this quote!

daxton still feels like a monster for who he is, what he's faced, what's happened to him, and what he's done, but he's not. most definitely not.

i had this planned literally from the second time i watched chapter 2 to refresh my memory so i could write this story. daxton was too close to the blast because he was worried about charlie and, yes, he lost hearing in one of his ears after his eardrum was ruptured. and while yes that hurts like a mf, daxton has a high pain tolerance & is so much more scared of the clown than of his pain that he can't even focus on it honestly. like - i'm just causing this boy so much pain, i'm so sorry, i promise i love him 🥺 & the next chapter isn't going to be any better.

like. look at the title again. then come back here. yeah.

i'm just kidding! anyway sorry for the trauma, daxton, charlie, readers! can't wait to wrap this story up! ❤️ i'm really curious if you guys have any predictions on the end - lmk! who will they become if they survive this? WILL they survive this? will daxton & richie actually clear the air? what will pennywise make daxton & charlie see?

ANYWAY, tysm for reading! i'm looking forward to finishing this book after 2 & a half years! wow i can't believe it's been that long. ❤️

- koda

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