Fix You - IT Fanfiction

Twenty Nine

Primrose's P.O.V.

Chills ran through my body and I felt my bare arms and legs on a cold, wet surface. My body ached. When I tried to move, pain shot through my body. I had no idea how I had gotten here, I was in some kind of drain. There were broken pipes with water spilling out everywhere. It was dark, the only light coming from a window looking thing at the top of the drain, or whatever this was.

I pulled together the strength to stand, and when I turned around there was a massive pile of junk right in front of me. After I took a closer look I noticed that it was mostly bikes and kids toys. Then I realized what this place must be. It must be where all the missing kids went.

"DALLAS?" I called impulsively.

All I heard back was my own echo.

I took a few steps toward the large pile and noticed that there was a large wooden box type thing buried at the bottom of the pile. There were two doors and it was positioned in a way that you could probably just open them and walk right in. I walked closer, wanting to open the door out of pure curiosity. As I got closer, I realized that there were words written on it.

Pennywise the Dancing Clown.

The wood had been destroyed by water and most of the paint had faded off but I could still read it nevertheless. There was a photo of the same clown I'd seen around Derry multiple times, whether it be in a picture or in real life. On the other hand, I was relieved that I had woken up in my right mind. What was this place? Was it part of the barrens? It definitely looked like it was. I remembered what I saw in my bathroom, I saw that clown. I saw Pennywise. I must have been taken. I look around again. The ceiling was one of the highest I'd ever seen, there were dozens of figures floating up close to the light at the top, with a close look I recognized them to be kids and teenagers. I guess I'm one of those missing kids now. I guess this could be where he keeps them? Are they dead?

"DALLAS?" I called again, directing my voice in the direction of the floating bodies, praying I would hear his voice call back. As expected, it was just my voice echoing through the dim chamber.

I decided to try and climb the pile. I put my foot on one of the rusty old bikes and grabbed onto a Big Wheel bike a little further up, but if I put any force on the Big Wheel it would fall on top of me. This big pile wasn't stable and it wasn't safe to climb. And even if I did reach the top, what would I do with all the bodies? If I grabbed them would they even move? And what would I do? I can't carry them all, and if I dropped them they'd get seriously injured or die. I stepped back down off the bike and moved closer to the walls of the chamber, hoping to find some sort of door or trap door.

Sure enough, I did. There was a large, circular, rusty door on the wall. I tried to pull it open but the rust had cemented it in. As far as I was concerned, there was no way to get out. I decided to keep walking around, maybe I'd find something.

Then I heard music playing, it was circus music. It had an eerie tone to it. The music was coming from an old red music box that I spotted turning by itself buried underneath a bucket and spade and an old doll. It repeated Pennywise's name over and over again. It spun faster and faster until it stopped abruptly. A small clown popped out the top and I jumped, not expecting it.

At that very moment, the doors to the wooden box flew open, revealing a glowing red light. The light dimmed revealing a small stage and fireworks were being set off. Then I saw him, it was Pennywise. He was dancing. At first, I thought it was funny, but then it just creeped me out. He was looking right at me. I decided to run over to one of the open pipes and yell for help, just on the off chance someone could hear me.

Pennywise caught me before I could get over there. He lifted me up by my neck and I was forced to stare into his blazing yellow eyes, he was hideous. You wouldn't usually call a clown attractive, but this one was downright ugly and creepy. His white face had cracks in it as if he was wearing thick face paint that hadn't been taken off in years. But I didn't find myself afraid. Instead, I was subconsciously making comments to myself about this clowns appearance.