Red Drops (ON HIATUS)

Chapter 14

Hollow. That was the feeling. Inside, (Y/N) felt like a hollowed tree, waiting to be overrun by critters. Instead, she was being overrun by rage, a dangerous fire that dance within and threatened to burn everything on its wake.

Upon arriving at the house, Pennywise lowered her body inside the bathtub, as she requested. He offered to bathe her, but she declined, claiming they've had enough intimacy for one day. With that his face mirrored hers in an expressionless mask and he walked away, leaving her alone. Turning the shower knob, the cold water hit her and instead of recoiling, she welcomed it.

Water beads danced down her skin, magnifying each skin imperfection, that today was deemed worthy. Her eyes remained open, watchful, just in case something were to happen. The water got caught in her eyelashes that adorned them like gems.

Pennywise was out of the scene, but he could feel the radiance of majesty, unfolding within her. She was peeling her skin to reveal a new one underneath. Despite this metaphoric view, her skin was changing in actuality. Like simple keys played on the piano, slow and graceful, a charcoal blackness was slowly consuming the tip of her hands all the way to her elbows.

Getting out of the shower, she wrapped herself in a soft towel and crossed the door to her room. There she found no sign of the clown or its annoying and troublesome counterpart. (Y/N) got dressed in simple clothes and laid down on her bed. Somehow the room seemed emptier without Pennywise. Not that she missed him, but he gave her situation some spunk and challenge that kept her entertained. Let's say he was a classic clown.

Not attracted by her surroundings, the simple red leather diary caught her eye. She grabbed the journal and decided to research about her current situation. In some way this journal had answers or at least clues that she could piece together and make the puzzle. Opening the old yellowed pages, she randomly picked a page of interest and started fast reading everything she could. Lines that continued the story of the maiden and her mysterious lover, making the diary sound like a novella or a soap opera. But in between each cherry line, (Y/N) found clues. They seemed insignificant, like a sudden change in eye color due to the sun, some growling and grunting, loosing control of the anger, loosing the skin.

After pulling each deal apart, writing them onto a separate paper, she looked once more at the pieces, but noticed that this chase was leading her to the library. Everything would serve as a distraction and as she breathed deeply three times, the situation at hand required further research, but if she uncovers what others have tried so hard to bury then things could get out of hand. The town's awakening couldn't happen, not yet.

With more deep breaths, she grabbed a bag and shove the journal, along with her notes, inside. Walking through the hall, her heart began to beat in her ears. She walk slower, but it didn't prevented her frantic breathing soon turned into hyperventilating. (Y/N) wanted to cry, her chest hurt and as of now everything seemed like a threat. She ran back to her room closing the door behind her, and getting as far away from it as she could. Holding her knees to her chest she sat on the floor, in the corner between her nightstand and her bed. She felt safer there, and after a while of rapid breaths, dizziness took over and she decided to sleep it off, by taking a blanket and dozing off in the same spot.

Night fell and with it came the unexpected intruders at the door. Nightmares.

Pennywise decided it was time to confront her. But was delayed by rainfall. He enjoyed the stormy nights and what better to do than to play the old piano on the corner of the crumbling house. He sat at the small seat, the black fabric aged by nature, along with the charcoal of the wood. The keys were yellowed and squeaky, but with a crack of his knuckles he started a gothic, melancholic melody that paired well with the rain. Moments like this have him a feeling of peacefulness to the chaos in his life. Of course that was all he lived for, but once in a while it was refreshing to change the scenery to his monotonous life.

Although he could never grow tire of himself or his actions, it was made clear that he was an anomaly in his system; something out of order but in the place. Those metaphor could no longer lie to him as well as the old man could, that's why he lost sight of his birthright: the power to destroy in order to create.

Deciding his reflections in life brought him deeper to the emotionless void, he stepped away from the piano and continued onward to (Y/N)'s house. She may have his heart on her hands, but he knew the way to hers.

With utmost stealth, he crawl back to his lair, chose a pipe and traveled through it popping out the other side in her bathtub. She was sleeping on their flirt still covered by her blanket and as far away as the world as possible. The tall clown contorted himself back to his original stance and made his way towards the bundled on the floor.

Her face was covered by the blankets, but her shape was undeniable, he crouched beside the blankets and removed a little bit of it, enough to see her face. Pennywise removed his glove and his hand touched her face. It tickled his fingertips, he caresses her cheek.

"I'm sorry" it comes as a hoarse whisper "I can't seem to be myself around you, but I'll try"

With that e grabbed her throat, jolting her awake. Eyes wide, she stared into his yellow-red eyes, hyperventilating. He pulled her face closer to his, with his devil-like smirk and mocking tone he said:

"Wakey, wakey toots. This is no time to be hitting the hay. We have lot of balloons to make"

I apologize for the long wait, this chapter was written and I didn't published it because it was unedited. Sorry guys. But thanks a lot for all the support, the votes and comments, it sure let's me know how much you're enjoying the story so far ☺️