Splendor//Bill Denbrough

S e v e n

Though the sun's golden rays reflect on Carn's blonde hair, it's a chilly morning, and she begins to wish that she had worn her cardigan. The icy breeze blows her hair back, but she treads on to the only Catholic Church in Derry. Out of all the significant places in the town, this was the first one she thought of, and isn't sure why. Mike did say to go anywhere they want that would bring back memories, and, well, here it is.

She pauses in front of the large oak doors, wondering if it had changed in the time she was gone.

"Guess we'll see," Carn mutters to herself, tugging them open. Alas, the lobby looks untouched. It even has that distinct smell of Lysol, and too much of it. In a way, it's comforting, like the building was waiting all that time for Carn to come back.

This is where I found out I made it into the conference, she reminisces, smiling. Suddenly, she's only seventeen and Bill is picking her up and twirling her, despite the literal child in her womb.

But then she remembers that she's not, in fact, seventeen, but thirty-nine, and too old to be daydreaming of way back when.

Daily mass was at six, so the sanctuary is cleared out. She reverently tiptoes there and goes inside. As per usual, candle flames dance on the walls, the only source of light. There's a faint scent of incense. Carn treads down the aisle to the first pew, genuflecting and crossing herself. Then, she kneels and does the only thing she can think of: pray.

"Dear God, let this be over soon," her whisper is so hushed that she can barely hear herself. "Please take care of my boys, and keep them safe. Let us find them soon- so, so soon. And please let us get out of this place quickly. I ask this in the name of Christ, our Lord, and through your blessed mother. Remember, oh gracious Virgin Mary, that never was it known that anyone who fled to thy protection, implored thy help, or sought thy intercession was left unaided. Inspired by this confidence, I fly to thee, oh Virgin of virgins and my Mother; to thee I come, before thee I kneel, sinful and sorrowful; oh Mother of the Word Incarnate, despise not my petitions, but in thy mercy, hear and answer me. Amen."

As she's leaving the sanctuary, she reaches to dip her hand in holy water, but a bony, spotted hand grips her wrist. Carn's head snaps up to face...

"Mother."

"Oh, Carnation. I heard from a couple of friends that you were here. They saw you leaving the diner, and I figured if it was really you, this would be the place you'd visit first."

Carn hasn't a clue how to respond without sounding rude. "Well, uh, you were right."

Her mother hasn't aged well. She's frail, almost gaunt. Her face isn't wrinkled per se, but covered in patches of colorless skin. Her hair is thin and clearly dyed blonde. "How is... everything, really?"

"Fine. I have two boys now. Twins."

"Unplanned?"

"No. Not that it's any of your business. And even if they weren't planned, we wouldn't love them any less. And Claire is extremely successful, thank you."

"Hope she doesn't wind up like her own mother," she mutters.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Winding up with a bastard child, left to her own devices. Financially unstable."

"I'm sorry, who was it that slapped their child? And all but called her worthless?" Carn retaliates.

"I think you're being a little overdramatic, sweetie," her mother chuckles. "And if I was 'so terrible' to you, you must be a horrible parent."

"Just shut up," Carn snaps, rolling her eyes.

"Subjecting your daughter to bullying because she was from a teen pregnancy."

"Well..."

"No doubt a helicopter parent, always getting caught up in your children's life- to their annoyance."

"Not... particularly...."

"Besides, what kind of mother lets her own boys out of her protection? Where are they again?" she smirks.

"Go to hell!" Carn hesitates. "Hang on, who told you that the boys are missing?"

"Carny, if your brains were dynamite, then there wouldn't be enough to blow off your head," the woman lets out a cold, high pitched laugh.

Carn isn't scared or offended, just extremely puzzled. "Huh?"

"You can't tell me apart from your own mother?"

"Tell who apart from my mother? Who are you?"

"You really are dense."

Wondering if her mother is on drugs, Carn opens her mouth to ask what she was talking about. But before she can get out the words, her 'mother', with evilly glowing eyes, yanks back her arm before pumping her fist into Carn's face. She stumbles back into a pew, blood trickling from her nose.

"What the hell?" she murmurs, wiping away the crimson fluid. Pushing herself back up, she looks around for her mother, but she is nowhere to be seen. "Hello?"

"Hello," someone replies ominously, their voice echoing throughout the church walls.

"Who's there?" Carn tries to hide the fear in her voice.

"Peekaboo!" a dark shape pops up from of the pews, but goes right back down. Carn sprints to the pew, blood dripping onto her pink blouse and the ivory marble floors. But it's gone.

"Peekaboo!" she hears again, and the shape pops up from another pew. She jogs to that one, but, unsurprisingly, it's gone again.

This game of cat and mouse continues for maybe five minutes, leaving Carn gasping for air. She hears, "Peekaboo!" for a final time and snaps her head around.

It's a demon. Faceless, sans the glowing eyes. It towers over her like a dementor, black and grotesque. Carn is rendered silent, begging God for her life. The demon reaches for her wrist and clutches it so tightly that it's sure to leave bruises. He twists it back, but she refuses to let him snap it.

Screaming her throat raw, Carn flails and kicks at the demon, until she spots the golden cross that the altar servers carry up and down the center of church. In full panic mode, she walks backward, yanking the monster with her. With her free arm, she blindly grabs for it. Finally, she feels the icy cross and grabs it. Though it's at least five pounds, she pulls it with one hand, knocking down the stand. Swinging it like a baseball bat, it whacks the fiend in the head, causing it to let go of her. The cross swivels back, hitting her shin. Carn cries out in excruciating pain, but still uses both her hands to raise it about her head. Smashing the cross into it, she tells him to go back where he came from. When she's satisfied, she chucks the cross on the floor, leaving cracks in the marble. For extra measure, she grabs the bowl of holy water and dumps it on the demon. But in the blink of an eye, it's gone. She drops the bowl, too, letting it shatter all around her feet.

Then Carnation runs. She's never been much of a runner, that was always Bill's job. Her arms pumping with adrenaline, every muscle in her body burning, she moves her legs like never before.

This must be what a runner's high feels like

Carn isn't sure where she was going; she just follows her feet. She isn't even running anymore. She's flying.

The Barrens is where she ends up. Feeling safe, Carn collapses on the ground. There she lies, wheezing and weeping for a solid hour.

Bill finds her. Carn doesn't ask how he found her. She just latches onto him, feeling his warmth, breathing in his cologne.

"Wh-what happened t-to y-y-you?"

"Doesn't matter," she whispers.

And, just for a couple minutes, they're safe.