Lurking in the Waters

1.

Derry, Maine. September 2013.

The sewers reeked with the scent of shit and piss, shoes floating from 27 years ago. 27 years of peace in this undisturbed grey water, well, besides the rats and other vermin that lurk. The scent is revolting, eye watering. The only problem, this peace wasn't to last. As a rat scurried on a side platform, it is snatched off the ground and it's head ripped off m countless rows of teeth. A once white glove now stained with the red of blood and a pair of glowing yellow eyes dart as the sounds of running feet pass overhead.

October.

"What are you running from, you fat piece of shit?" Justin Walkers shouted, three of his fellow football players chasing after the chubby 9thth grader, Christopher Mathews. Justin, unlike Christopher, was a jock, captain of the football team, standing 6'2, weighing in at 200 pounds of straight muscle and idiocy, possibly from one too many concussions. As a senior, he believed it was his job to put all the fresh meat in their place. However, Christopher and his friends had been a target of Justin's since he was in the 5th grade. He had always been a bit short and a bit heavy. Acne did not help the poor boy from the heartthrob that had (almost) all the ladies falling at his feet. The worst part was, when by himself, Justin was actually fairly nice to the boys, but when in the public eye, that was a different story.

Justin's goons, Tyler Melkins, Ryan Stellario, and Alexander Folks, were slightly shorter carbon copies. The worst part was they knew that half the shit they pulled was wrong, but they were too scared that Justin would ruin them, both physically and socially. "Your little friends can't help you, fat ass!" Tyler yelled while grabbing to handle on Christopher's backpack, pulling back and tearing him to the ground.

Christopher groaned in pain as he rolled from his back and got on his hands and knees only to be kicked down. The four boys began kicking the kid repeatedly. No one would stop them from beating the shit out of this kid for just existing, except, maybe Blaire Kurkshaw. "Walkers!" her voice rang as her car came to a screeching stop. She put it in park next to the sidewalk and got out, walking to the now lined up group of boys.

"Hey Blaire," Justin said, his voice not matching the vicious act he was just committing. Blaire was one of the most popular girls in school, not because she played the right sport or had money, which of course she did; she was known for being as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. Her cheerleading uniform had a slit on her upper thigh, which allowed her to show sass as she stuck one leg out and had her hands on her hips. Her long hair was pulled into that high pony tail that made Justin want to take her upstairs for a few hours.

"Don't, 'Hey Blaire' me," she said angrily. She moved forward, pushing passed the boys and offered a hand to Christopher and she did her best to help pull him up. "Get in the car," she said pointing to the mini-van, which is what she usually used when she was picking up the 'Losers club' of 2013. Somehow, hanging out with the freshmen outcasts did nothing to the junior's reputation. Christopher nodded and hurried to the car, not wanting to make his best friend any angrier.

He buckled his seatbelt and looked out the window at Blaire and she stood in front of the Quaterback. Their jerseys matched and he sighed. He was sure if Justin wasn't such a prick, they probably would still be together. He watched her look up at him angrily and poke his chest, his friends behind her, looks of fear across each of their faces as she yelled. He said something, gesturing to the van and she gasped before slapping him across the face. She walked away, her white sneakers stomping as she hopped the curb and went around the car. She got in, slammed the door and started the car.

"Did he wanna fuck?" a voice in the back asked.

She squinted and took a look in her mirror at the four boys in the back. "Shut up, Paul," she said finally while buckling her seatbelt. Paul Fitzgerald snickered from the way back. His flannel hung off his tiny frame. Big talk for such a little guy. Beside him was the second smallest of the group, Nicolas Bog. Possibly one of the smartest kids in the high school, in fact, he actually had some classes with Blaire. In the middle row on the left was Stephin Walkers, the most attractive of the Losers, and the younger brother of Justin. He recognized his brother was a complete tool and often apologized for it in his cool manner. And finally, next to him, was Frank Williams, unlike the rest of the boys, frank was rather quiet, social anxiety playing a strong role in his life.