"I've realized that..." he started, then took a shaky breath. "Earlier today, when Stanley pulled you aside... seeing you two so close and secretive, I hated it." The words tumbled out in a rush. "I don't like how others make you smile..." He traile...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
°•°Vanessa's POV°•°
"Sad," Beverly muttered to herself, the word hanging in the damp, earthy air of the clubhouse. A heavy, sorrowful silence descended upon all of us. I hid my face in Eddie's shoulder, trying desperately to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. I could feel the steady, comforting rhythm of his hand rubbing my back.
"He was old before his time," Ben stated softly, voicing what we all felt about Stanley.
"Yeah," Eddie said, his voice curious and distant. "I wonder what he was like all grown up."
"Probably what he was like as a kid," Richie said, a sad smile in his voice. "The best."
"Here," Bill said, tossing Richie the shower cap he'd discarded.
"All right, Mike," Richie said, his tone shifting from melancholy to impatience. "What are we doing here?"
We all looked at Mike, waiting for the answer we'd come for.
"The ritual, to perform it, requires a sacrifice," Mike told us, his voice grave.
"Sacrifice?" Richie's eyebrows shot up. "I nominate Eddie."
"Wait, what?" Eddie asked, pulling away from me in confusion.
"How about I nominate you?" I shot back at Richie, glaring at him.
Our bickering was cut short by Bill. "It's not that kind of a sacrifice, guys."
"Mike?" Bill prompted.
"The past is buried, but you're gonna have to dig it up. Piece by piece. And these pieces, these artifacts... that's why we're here. They are what you'll sacrifice. And since Stan isn't here to find his..." Mike's voice wavered for a fraction of a second. "...I figured we should all be here together to find his artifact."
"I think Bill just did that," Eddie said, finally putting the shower cap back on his head.
We stood outside the clubhouse once more, blinking in the morning light as the others finished climbing out of the hole.
"Okay, Mike," Eddie began, jumping in with questions immediately. "So where do we find our tokens?" Couldn't he just wait a moment before we had to plunge into this terrifying scavenger hunt?
"Yeah, I gotta be honest, man. All due respect," Richie interjected. "This is fucking stupid, all right? Why do we need tokens? We already remember everything. Saving Bev and Nessa, defeating It... I mean, we're caught up!" I guess I wasn't the only one who felt a deep reluctance to do this alone.
"It's not everything," Mike insisted, his patience wearing thin. "We fought, but what happened after that? Before the house on Neibolt. Think."
And I finally saw what he meant. Because my mind was a complete, terrifying blank. The memories of that summer ended with the fight and began again with the fear.
"We c-can't remember, can we?" Bill asked quietly from where he stood behind Beverly.
"See, there's more to our story," Mike said. "What happened that summer... there are blank spaces, like pages torn out of a book. That's what you need to find. We need to split up. You each need to find your artifact. Alone. That's important. When you do, meet me at the library tonight."
There it was. The directive I'd been dreading. I wasn't sure I had the guts to face the ghosts of my past by myself.
"Yeah, I gotta say, statistically speaking," Eddie argued, his hands moving nervously, "you look at survival scenarios, we're gonna do much better as a group."
"Yeah, splitting up would be dumb, man. Okay, we gotta go together, all right?" Richie pleaded. "We were together that summer, right?"
Mike was about to answer when Bill spoke, his voice heavy with a memory he'd just unearthed. "No, not that w-whole summer."
A flash of another argument, decades old, ripped through my mind.
"No, t-t-take it back! You're scared and we all are, but take it back!" Bill's younger self yelled.
Richie didn't stand still. He shoved Bill back. Bill's fist connected with Richie's jaw.
"Bill!" someone screamed.
"You're just a bunch of losers!" Richie shouted, trying to get to Bill as Ben held him back and Stanley and Mike restrained Richie.
"Fuck off!"
"Richie, stop!"
"You're just a bunch of losers, and you'll get yourselves killed trying to catch a fucking stupid clown!" Richie yelled, struggling against their hold.
"Guys! Stop!" I had yelled out, tears streaming down my cheeks, utterly spent.
"This is what It wants," Beverly had said, her voice cutting through the chaos. "It wants to divide us. We were all together when we hurt It. That's why we're still alive."
"Yeah? Well I plan to keep it that way," Richie had said, walking away and bumping Bill's shoulder.
The memory faded, leaving me feeling hollow and torn, just as I had that day long ago, walking away from my friends with a shattered heart.
The echo of that old fracture hung in the air between us now. Mike looked at each of us, his expression grim. "It wants us divided. It always has. But this is different. This is the only way. You have to face your past alone to secure our future together."
The weight of his words settled on us. We were out of options. The ritual was our only hope, and it demanded a price: a solitary journey into the heart of our deepest fears.
