𝐱𝐱 - 𝐦𝐢𝐤𝐞

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~ Mike stares, horrified, at the image It has portrayed in your likeness ~

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~ Mike stares, horrified, at the image It has portrayed in your likeness ~


Mike is practically on his back in the alley, the image of you, his best friend and crush, burnt and battered staggering from the door of the butcher. Your skin is charred to black and your hair is mostly burnt off.

"Mike . . ." you say, your voice raspy, a hand outstretched to his face. He whimpers and leans back as your fingers almost brush his nose. He barely has time to react before a horn blaring shocks him back to reality and the burnt image of you is run over by Henry Bowers and his goons, although all that they've seen is a stray bag of trash.

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