CRAWLING BACK TO YOU | { pennywise/reader oneshots }

eugenesis

eugenesis (n.) the quality or condition of having strong reproductive powers; generation with full fertility between different species or races

There were three things in which you were absolutely certain.

1. You were trapped. You had no clue as to where, but the pungent, rotten smell that wafted through the air like a weighted blanket gave you a vague idea.

2. You were hurt. Something was bleeding, not bad, but just enough to make you a little lightheaded. Everything hurt with an ache that seeped into your bone marrow like hundreds of tiny ice picks, but you knew you would live.

3. You were not alone. Someone - something - dragged you down here, wherever here is. It's what trapped you, it's what hurt you. And it had not left your side for the entire time you were unconscious, though you could not see it until now.

You hadn't gotten a good glimpse of it before. The last thing you remember is leaving the Canal Days festival, just a little buzzed from the cheap dollar store wine you and your friends snuck in, scrolling through your phone as you waited on the bridge for your uber to pick up you and the stranger - Robert Something-or-other - hooked around your arm.

You met him in the mirror maze.

You went in on a dare, your friends well aware of your mild claustrophobia. But the alcohol running through your system had made you especially bold, and as you handed your ticket to the bored twenty-something manning the line, you didn't think twice when you walked through the gaping maw of the clown that framed the funhouse's entrance.

By some miracle, you had made it through the spinning tunnel (only falling on your ass once) and past the swinging clowns determined to knock you back to the ground. And then there were the mirrors.

It was like an endless prism, and the flashing lights did nothing to help your disorientation. As you took a couple steps in your face was immediately met with glass, and already you were beginning to regret your decision.

You weren't sure if it was the wine or your fear - or both - that made your heart speed up like an engine, but you hadn't gotten far. Slinging an unreasonably loud and defeated 'FUCK' into the air, you heard a tap on the glass behind you.

The way you must've flinched would've been embarrassing to your more sober self, but seeing another living person round the corner of the maze you were in was more relieving than you'd like to admit.

He wasn't anything special, though at the time, you weren't being picky. He was tall, but the kind of tall that looked like someone stretched out an average person like a piece of taffy. He had chestnut hair - or was it auburn? - imperfectly swept back and curling at the tips with a couple strands falling in front of his face. And his eyes were the kind that could swallow you whole if you looked at them for too long. You could have sworn that in a certain light, their bright blue seemed to glow a hazel yellow. For what it was worth, he had a nice face, and a nice voice to go along with it. He was just...nice.

"Just follow me, we'll go together." he said with a smile, warm and comforting.

He stretched out his hand, and for a moment you hesitated. You weren't sure why, but it was like the primal, reptilian part of your brain was telling you to refuse, that you'd be perfectly fine on your own thank-you-very-much. But you didn't. You placed your hand in his, and it was nearly engulfed by it as his fingers closed around yours.

His hands were cold, and they felt so nice against your own warm ones. As he led you through the rest of the maze, you almost felt a little silly. It seemed so simple like this, especially when he would look over his shoulder at you and smile, like you were the lost little lamb to his shepherd. You couldn't help but smile back at him.