~Stay cute, stutter king.~ ((Bill Denbrough x OC reader))

Yeah, thanks to you.

        Richie held the metal bat high above his head as the clown dropped Bill and ran at him.

"WELCOME TO THE LOSERS CLUB, ASSHOLE!!" He screamed, whacking the bat dead-center in the middle of his forehead. I took the opportunity to scramble to my feet, rushing to Bill, leaning over him, slightly bent down. I smiled softly, warmth filling my chest from knowing he wasn't dead.

"You okay?" I asked, holding out a hand for him.

"Yeah, thanks to you." He said, smiling back at me and grabbing hold of my hand, pulling himself up. "Are you okay?" He asked, not letting go of my hand. I laughed a little.

    "Yeah...thanks to you." I whispered. Eddie slipped past us.

"Hey, guys, I'm glad you're doing a thing and stuff, but, there's, like, a thing, y'know..that...." Eddie said, taking deep breaths and pointing at the clown, who had recovered from getting hit by the bat. Mike swung his stick at it, and it opened its mouth, about 10 burnt arms sticking out and grabbing at the stick. Mike yelped, stepping back.

"Shit." I muttered, grabbing my bat and rushing over to help. Before I could get there, Bill ran straight past me, and whacked the arms that were coming out of the clowns mouth with a rusty pipe. The clown turned towards Bill, and Stan whacked it in the back of the head. It swiveled towards him, his face shifting into that woman from the painting. Stan's eyes widened, and he stepped back. The clown-er-woman ran at him, and he recovered from his shock, letting out a hell of pure anger and wheeling back and smacking the woman across the face with a sharpened pole. My eyes widened as the clowns face went back to before. The clown backed away, getting a tiny bit closer to another well that led to who-knows-where. Mike whacked it with the stick, and it's arms turned into some sort of crab legs, and smacked Mike onto the ground, and making him hurriedly roll away as the clown tried to stab him with his "claws.". We sat there in shock, until Ben yanked a sharp metal rod from the pile of belongings, and stabbed the clown through the abdomen.

It let out an ear-piercing scream, bending back, blood spouting out of the stab wound from Ben, the clowns arms going back into...well...arms. Ben pushed against its back, trying to yank the stick out of him. Everyone cheered him on, as the clowns head turned 360 degrees around, his head now in the shape of a mummy. Ben screamed, and pushed off of the clown. The bandages loosely hanging off of the mummies face wrapped around Ben's head. He started to scream. Beverly grabbed a metal chain from the ground, repeatedly whacking the clown with it, getting it off of Ben. The two shared a quick hug, then turned their attention back to the clown, who had fallen onto all fours. We got in a circle around the clown, and started to individually hurt it. Bill and Stan whacked it with poles, Ben and Beverly used the chains. The clown was coughing and yelling. Eddie was crouched on the ground, staring at the clown fearfully. The clown picked up its head, now in the shape of some sort of zombie, and vomited all over Eddie. He sat there, then got up, threw up, and clenched his fists, breathing heavily, then yelled out in anger.

"IM GONNA FUCKING KILL YOU!!!!" He screeched, getting up and kicking the clown. Hard. Right in the face.

The clown fell back, rolling a little. It was super close to the other well now. All it needed was two more pushes. It picked its head up, now morphed into....Beverly's dad. I shot an anxious look at her. The clown smirked creepily.

"Hey, bevy....are you still my little girl~?" He cooed. Beverly gripped the wooden spear she was holding, and walked up to the clown. She screamed, stabbing the clown in the head. It got up, and pulled the stick out, took a few steps, and fell over. It was almost dead. Almost. The thing was, I was still scared. Bill looked at me.

"Amy. Go. K-kill it." He said. I nodded confidently, yet I was still slightly afraid.

I walked to the clown, who was only one hit away from the well. I held my bat over my head, and right when I was about to hit it.....it looked up at me. It didn't look like a monster. It didn't look like a murderer. It looked like Bill. I froze, my eyes as wide as saucers. Everyone was telling me to kill it. Yelling at me to kill it.My hands were shaking. My breathing stopped. I wasn't scared. I was horrified. Tears started to blur my vision. It was hopeless. I couldn't kill my best friend, or even anyone that looked like my best friend. I loved my best friend. I almost dropped the bat, when I heard someone from behind me. It wasn't another word of comfort. It wasn't a word of pity.

"That's not me. I'm right here." No stutter.

All I needed. I blinked my tears back, fury filling every hole inside of me. I clenched the bat so hard my nails dug into my palms. I raised the bat.

"TELL ME HOW MY DICK TASTES, YOU FUCK WAD!!!"