Back In Black (Richie Tozier X Fem!Reader) 3

•Four•

Word Count: 1785

Warnings: Gore ofc, cussing, children pt. 2, panic attack.

Song for chapter 4 - "Killin' on demand" by Freddie Dredd.

***

"That's what Pennywise does, right? It fucks with us, so Stanley's probably fine-" Eddie frantically rambled and I rolled my eyes, trying not to slap him to stay calm.

Then we got stopped by a kid. Richie got stopped specifically.

"Hey, Richie!" The kid called out. We all turned around to see a kid, no older than around 8 years.

"How'd you, uh- how'd you know my name?" Richie nervously asked.

"The fun's just beginning, right?" The kid gave a creepy smile. Everyone got put off by this.

Richie started flipping out and shaking the poor child, who turned out to actually just quote something from his show. If the kid is as old, as he looks...how did his parents allow him to watch something Richie fucking Tozier is in? Pardon my French, but there's no fucking way his jokes are child-friendly. Then again, I mean, it's 2016, so kids see more stuff than they're supposed to see.

The kid's parents rushed up to him and took him away from the so-seeming madman that was Richie, at the moment. I slightly chuckled at his disheveled look. We all rushed out of the restaurant. Beverly had already called Mrs. Uris as soon, as we were out the door.

"Hello, Mrs. Uris. My name is Beverly Marsh. I apologize for calling, but I'm an old friend of your husband's-" I averted my attention to Richie and Eddie as they started ranting to Mike.

I turned my attention back to Beverly to see Ben looking worried. Ah, yes, the couple that should have been.

Turns out, Stanley had slit his wrists in his own goddamn bath and died. Beverly dramatically muttered 'bath' before Mrs. Uris said it herself. This almost seemed like just fiction.

Everyone hurried to run away from the place, while Mike and I were trying to convince everyone to stay. Richie tried to make me come with him in the taxi and despite how I appreciated how he didn't want me to get murdered by a clown, I denied. I didn't have that much to live for and my life was nothing comparing to all the lives that were taken by this creature and WILL continue to be taken if we didn't stop it. In the end, we only got Bill to comply. For once, I'd like to dedicate a toast to Mr. Denbrough for being self-sacrificing.

Mike took us to the library he worked in and told us to wait as he went to retrieve something. Bill and I made barely any conversation, despite us being very close friends in the past. Very deep, indeed. Anyway, Mike came in with some kind of triangle thing and asked if Bill was thirsty. I immediately sensed something was off, but Bill being his dumbass self - took the drink. I noticed him stumbling a bit. It was subtle, but noticeable.

"You stole it from Native Americans?!" Bill asked in disbelief.

"No, I- it's complicated-"

"I feel kind of funky-"

"I need you to see-" They kept having these weird exchanges and Bill's pupils dilated.

"Did you put something in my drink?" Bill asked after a while of story time with Mike Hanlon (youtube title worthy).

"You-you drugged me?"

"Why would you do that-" I tried not to bust a lung at Bill's tone of voice.