Pennywise's Neverland

Chapter thirty five: Shattering Ties.

The next morning, Georgie awoke with a heaviness in his chest, a sense that the delicate balance he’d tried to build was slipping away, unravelling into something darker. The air in the lair felt colder, sharper, as though the walls themselves had grown hostile overnight. He could see it in the way Finn and Sofia shifted uneasily, their eyes darting toward the shadows, the tension radiating off them in waves.

But it wasn’t until they reached the pink playroom that Georgie saw the real change. The room was stripped bare, the cozy blankets he’d fought so hard for, the little luxuries that had made their prison more bearable—all gone. The table, once filled with fresh food and warm pastries, held nothing but a few hard rolls, stale and unappealing, a thin layer of dust settling over the empty space where fruit and sweet treats had once been. Even the books he had managed to coax out of Pennywise, those little escapes into stories, had vanished, leaving the shelves bare.

Finn’s face darkened as he scanned the room, his fists clenching at his sides. “Well, so much for that,” he muttered under his breath, shooting a glance at Georgie, his expression tight. “Looks like the good times are over.”

Georgie’s stomach twisted with guilt, his heart sinking as he took in the stark reality of what had been taken from them. He could feel Finn’s frustration, the unspoken question that lingered in the air: Did Georgie’s closeness with Pennywise bring this down on them? Was this the price of trusting him, even for a moment?

Sofia tried to force a smile, though it trembled at the edges. “It’s… it’s probably just a bad day,” she said, though her voice wavered. “He’ll come around. Maybe he’s just… having one of his moods.”

Georgie nodded slowly, but he could see the doubt in her eyes, the same fear that gnawed at him. He knew it was more than a mood. Pennywise had shifted—no more indulgent smiles, no more eerie attempts at kindness. It was as though the warmth he had shown, however twisted, had been pulled back behind a mask of cold cruelty.

As they picked at the meager breakfast, Georgie’s appetite vanished, replaced by a knot of anxiety that tightened with every glance Finn shot his way, every strained silence between them. He barely touched the bread, the taste turning to ash in his mouth, and by the time they left the playroom, he felt drained, weak with a hunger that went beyond food.

---

Later, as the shadows grew longer and the lair seemed to shrink around them, Georgie found Pennywise lurking near the entrance to the hidden room, his posture relaxed, a faint smile playing on his lips. But the smile didn’t reach his eyes—it was the smile of a predator, of something waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Georgie swallowed, forcing himself to step closer, to meet the clown’s gaze even as his pulse quickened with a familiar fear. “What… what’s going on?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Did I… do something wrong?”

Pennywise’s smile stretched wider, but it was a cold, mocking expression, and his yellow eyes gleamed with a strange, hungry light. “Oh, Georgie,” he purred, his voice silky, taunting. “You haven’t done anything at all. But that’s the problem, isn’t it? Time to remember where you are, what I am. Time to play.”

Georgie’s stomach dropped, dread pooling in his chest. He took a step back, but Pennywise’s grin only grew sharper, a twisted delight flickering in his gaze as he began to prowl closer, his movements unnaturally fluid, almost serpentine. “You like games, don’t you, Georgie? I’ve got one in mind—something to get the blood pumping. A little game of tag.”

Before Georgie could respond, Pennywise lunged, his form blurring with inhuman speed. He slipped through the shadows like a wraith, and Georgie’s instincts screamed at him to run. He bolted down the corridor, his footsteps echoing wildly as he skidded around corners, his heart racing with terror.

Behind him, Pennywise’s laughter echoed, a low, mocking sound that reverberated through the lair, filling every corner with a sense of looming dread. “Run, run, little rabbit!” he called, his voice carrying through the darkness. “Let’s see if you can keep ahead of me!”

Georgie’s breath hitched, his legs burning as he pushed himself faster, his mind racing with the desperate hope that he could find a place to hide, a corner to curl into, away from the terrible speed of the creature behind him. But every time he thought he’d lost him, Pennywise’s shape would materialize out of the shadows, just a step behind, his grin flashing like a knife in the dark.

Georgie rounded a corner and nearly collided with Finn and Sofia, who had been hiding in a narrow alcove. “Run!” he gasped, his voice raw with fear. “He’s—”

Before he could finish, Pennywise’s form appeared at the end of the corridor, his arms stretching impossibly long, his eyes burning with a fierce, predatory light. He moved like liquid shadow, closing the distance between them with a terrifying ease.

Finn’s face paled, his expression a mix of anger and terror. “Georgie—what is this? What did you do?” he shouted, but there was no time for an answer. The three of them scattered, running in different directions, each of them desperately searching for a hiding place.

Pennywise’s laughter chased them through the lair, filling the air with a sickening glee. He caught up with Sofia first, cornering her with an almost casual ease, his form looming over her as she pressed back against the wall, her eyes wide with terror. He didn’t touch her—just let his presence fill the space, the air growing colder, the shadows deeper.

“Look at you, little mouse,” he murmured, his voice a low, mocking purr. “Not so brave without your friends, are you?”

Then, just as quickly, he vanished, slipping back into the darkness, leaving Sofia trembling as she stumbled out of the corner and tried to find Finn.

He found Finn next, chasing him down the length of the room until the boy’s legs gave out, leaving him gasping for breath, his fear plain on his face. Pennywise loomed over him, a terrible smile stretching his features. “You think you can keep them safe, Finn?” he whispered, leaning closer, his voice dripping with mockery. “You think you can hide from me?”

Finally, he turned his attention back to Georgie, tracking him with the ease of a bloodhound, each step deliberate, savouring the chase. When he finally caught up, he let the silence stretch, letting Georgie’s breath come in sharp, ragged gasps as he cowered in a corner, the raw fear in his eyes unmistakable.

“You thought you could keep me at bay with your little games, didn’t you, Georgie?” Pennywise sneered, crouching down until their faces were inches apart. “But this is my world. My rules. Don’t forget that.” He let the words hang in the air, then with a swift, disorienting motion, he was gone, melting back into the shadows.

---

By the time the game ended, the lair felt colder, the darkness more oppressive than it had in weeks. Georgie, Finn, and Sofia huddled together in the pink room, their bodies aching, their breaths coming in shuddering gasps. No one spoke. The sense of trust that had kept them together felt fragile, frayed by the events of the night.

Georgie sat apart from them, clutching his arms around himself, feeling the weight of their unspoken questions pressing down on him. He didn’t blame them—not really. After all, hadn’t he been the one to try and keep Pennywise close, to play along with his whims? Hadn’t he thought, even for a moment, that maybe he could keep the monster in check?

He wanted to apologise, to tell them that he hadn’t meant for any of this to happen, but the words stuck in his throat. He felt Finn’s gaze on him, a silent reproach that cut deeper than any accusation, and he couldn’t bring himself to meet his friend’s eyes.

When night fell, Georgie didn’t dare return to the bedroom he shared with the others. The thought of lying in his bed, surrounded by their tense silence, made his skin crawl. Instead, he found a corner in the pink room, curling up on the cold floor, his mind racing with the memory of Pennywise’s laughter, the cruel delight in the clown’s eyes.

As he lay there, staring into the dark, he felt the weight of his choices settle over him, heavy and unyielding. Whatever twisted thing he’d thought he could build with Pennywise, it had crumbled. And now, all he could do was hope that he hadn’t lost his friends along with it.