THE GHOST IN YOU - IT [2]

chapter eleven

The moment the library door opens, the two know something is amiss inside. There were sounds of struggle, grunting and groaning. Richie storms ahead of Jaime and opens the lobby doors. The pair are met with the sight of Bowers, on top of a powerless Mike, same knife that had cut Jaime's neck being held centimeters from Mike's face.

A tiny yelp flees Jaime's lips, her confident demeanor instantly disintegrating, but Richie quickly shushes her. She looks between him and the horrific scene ahead, silently asking him what they're to do. As if on autopilot, Richie grabs a sharp piece of metal from the checkout table and storms forward.

"Just like your druggie parents," Bowers seethes to Mike, "can you see them yet? Crispy, like fried, fucking--"

Richie drives the object through Bowers' thick skull, evidently killing the man who had attempted to kill multiple people just that day. He halts, shaking, then slumps against Mike as his body begins giving up on him. Jaime rushes up to Mike as he pushes Bowers off of him. Wordlessly, she outstretches a hand and hoists him to his feet.

"Guess you could say that was long overdue." Richie pants, smiling sheepishly. "Get it, because we're in a... library--" He cuts himself off by spilling his guts onto the floor where Mike had just been. Jaime grimaces as Richie vomits up the beer they had just consumed together.

The lobby doors swing open harshly, revealing three of the losers. "Mike?!" Beverly says frantically, rushing forward with Ben and Eddie following suit. A shrill scream escapes her upon seeing Bowers lifeless body.

"I was hoping I'd be able to warn you of that," Jaime grimaces, looking at Mike, "I guess we were a few minutes too late."

"No," Mike breathes, placing a hand on her shoulder, "no, you came just in time. It's alright."

"You alright?" Ben asks cautiously.

"No I'm not alright, I just fucking killed a guy!" Richie gestures madly to Bowers' body.

"I was... talking to Mike..."

"Where's Bill?" Mike asks. He doesn't seem as phased as he should be; rather he seems more determined to kill It than ever.

For a second time that evening, the lobby doors open brashly. Everyone jerks their heads towards that direction, expecting the Denbrough to walk in. Instead, they're met with the sight of a frazzled Victor, appearing as if he had rushed across town to be here.

"Am I late?" He asks, panting. When he's only met with wide eyes, Jaime runs over to him and hugs him once more. Unquestioningly, he hugs back, squeezing his younger sister but looking to her group of friends with furrowed brows and concerned eyes.

She pulls away and tugs him forward by the arm. "Guys, you remember Vic, right?" Murmurs of reluctant agreement follow.

"I hope I didn't miss any-- holy shit." Victor stares down at Bowers' body, noting the leaking wound in his head. He shakily points to his former best friend, his face hardening. "Which one of you did this?"

Honey-thick silence follows. The losers look to each other fearfully. Victor's stare is indecipherable, but they all safely assume he's not very happy. Jaime tightens her grip on his arm, looking at him apprehensively.

"Well, since none of you fuckers want to take the fall for me, guess I'll say it." Richie says finally, rubbing his forehead. "I did it."

At a snails pace, Victor drags his gaze up to meet Richie. He swallows audibly. "You-- you killed Bowers?"

Richie clicks his tongue, looking past Victor at Jaime. "Yeah, I guess I did."

Without warning, Victor barrels forward and scoops Richie into his arms. Jaime opens her mouth to protest, but upon realizing he's only hugging the man, she relaxes with a feeble smile. Victor squeezes Richie and pats his back while Richie hesitantly wraps his arms around the man, chuckling nervously.