"Y/n, I think I'm going to take a bath tonight." Stan said, placing his phone down on the kitchen bench.
Y/n turned to look at her husband from the kitchen. She was confused. Stanley Uris didn't take baths. She knew that very well.
Stan wandered upstairs, as y/n continued on the pasta she was making. Stan was acting strangely.
She glanced over at his phone. Maybe the phone call he received had something to do with it?
But, y/n brushed off the thought, and continued to make dinner for the two of them.
"Stan! Dinner's ready when you are!"
No response. Even when Stan was in a mood, he'd always yell back something along the lines of; "be right there, love."
But not today. The house was filled with silence. Y/n grew concerned, but didn't do anything. Maybe Stan was still in the bath, and couldn't hear her.
After another ten minutes of waiting, y/n dashed up the stairs. She walked to the bathroom door. It was locked.
'He never locks it. Something's wrong. I know it.'
Y/n started to panic. There was definitely something wrong with Stan. And it had to be because of that phonecall. He was fine before he picked up that damn phone.
Y/n pulled a bobbypin from her hair, and picked the lock. The door swung open, and y/n screamed.
The water in the bathtub was a pinkish colour. And in the bathtub was Stan, blood dripping from two cuts that spread from his wrist to his elbow.
And on the bathroom wall, written in blood, two letters that would haunt her for the rest of her life.
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She sprinted down the stairs, picking up Stan's phone. She unlocked it, and found the last call he had. The call he received before taking a bath.
She thought back to everything she heard Stan say during the call.
Things like; "Mike? Mike Hanlon?", "At your farm?" and "Back to Derry?".
Derry. Stan's childhood town. He didn't speak about it much. Y/n knew what she had to do.
~~~~
Y/n hopped off the plane, and found her way to the taxis outside. She jumped in one, and when asked where she wanted to go, she answered with the one place Stan told her to stay away from.
"Derry, Maine please."
The taxi driver nodded, and began driving. Y/n slowly fell asleep in the back of the car.
When she opened her eyes again, she was in a small town, and a sign beside the car read: "Welcome to Derry"
"Just here please."
The taxi stopped, and y/n got out, grabbing her bags from the boot of the car, and handed a pile of cash to the driver.
After wandering around for what felt like hours, she found an information center on what could be known as Main Street.
"Hi, do you have to directions to," her mind blanked at the name of the person she was searching for. "M-Mike Hanlon's farm?"
The lady sighed, handing her a map of the town. In the corner, were the words "Hanlon Farm" in bold letters.
"Thank you."
Y/n walked to the farm, and when she got there, she saw six other people. One of them had to be Mike Hanlon.
"E-excuse me. Are any of you Mike Hanlon?"
The dark skinned man stepped forward.
"That would be me. And who are you?"
"I'm Y/n. Stanley Uris's wife. I'm here on his behalf."
"What? Where's Stan?" A redheaded woman said, and she started conversing with the other guys.
"He's... he's gone."
That caught everyone's attention.
"What do you mean he's gone?" The guys with glasses said, placing his hands on y/n's shoulders, concern splashed across his face.
"I found him in the bathtub. H-he killed himself," y/n stopped, and started to sob. "He wrote the word 'It' on the wall. What does that mean? Why did Stan write it in his own blood?"
Y/n was uncontrollably sobbing, as she fell into the arms of the glasses wearing guy.
"Your questions will be answeres soon enough. Until then, welcome to the losers club, y/n."
° This is longer than any of the others... But no one ever uses this for a plot so I thought "why not be the first?" °
