Summer of '93 - Stozier

14

The cycle started again, Richie sitting bolt upright in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, the familiar feeling of tears drying on his face as he panted trying to catch his breath.

Eddie, being the light sleeper he is, woke up a few seconds before Richie did, hearing him whimper as he cried.

"Nightmare?" Eddie croaked, tired.

Richie flinched, not expecting to hear Eddies voice. "Shit, I forgot you were here." He put on a weak smile, turning his head and looking down at Eddie who was laying beside him.

"You okay?" Eddie asked.

Richie nodded. "Yeah," He breathed out. "Yeah, just go back to sleep, Eds."

"C'mere." Eddie mumbled, his eyes closed as he held his arm up.

Richie yawned and laid back down, finally catching his breath and nuzzling back into Eddie (Spooning, cute right?). Eddie wrapped his arm around Richies middle, mumbling something along the lines of 'go back to sleep' before falling back asleep himself.

Eventually, Richie did fall back asleep, not for
long though. It was a rare occasion that he would have two nightmares in one night.

This part was familiar. It was dark, as it usually always was. He was lost. How long he had been down there he didn't know exactly. It was cold too., with the freezing water of some puddle or left over sewage water splashing on him from time to time.

"Guys?" His voice a mere whisper, but echoed through the tunnels of the sewer system.

"Its too late for them now, Richie.." The voice made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and goosebumps break out on his arms.

The eerie cackle of the clown he'd heard too many times to count rang in his ears.

a sudden fire lit somewhere from around him. He blinked a few times to get used to the unexpected light. Looking around, he froze.

His friends, pale and dead looking, floating. Their eyes were a vacant white, their mouths hung open, and their heads hanging down, lolling against their shoulders.

"No! shit!"

"You couldn't save them, Rich.. Might as well join them."

Richie quickly jerked his head to all sides, looking for the source of the voice, yet not so sure he wanted to see it. "Fuck you!" His voice cracked nervously as he yelled. "They're not dead yet! I still have time!"

"Oh, you always were one to look on the bright side, weren't ya, Rich?" The taunting voice of the clown spoke again. "Take a look," It hissed. "Sssee if you can save them now!" It laughed again.

Richie snapped his head towards where he had seen his friends floating. The wind had been knocked out of him at the sight. Eddie, a gaping hole through his stomach and blood spilling from his mouth. Bill, his clothes and hair soaked with water, his skin was a pale blue, indicating that his oxygen levels had been cut off. Bev, dreched from head to toe and dripping with blood, Richie didn't know if it was her own. Ben, covered in dirt, the word HENRY carved through his shirt, soaking it with the blood from his stomach. Mike, his clothes tore into rags, a knife impaled into his leg, and dripping cuts all over his body. And finally, Stan. He looked the most normal. Except his wrists, slit open in deep cuts, blood trickling down his hand and dripping onto the dirt covered stone floor.