Chapter Text
I remember it like it was yesterday.
The wind whipped around me like a ghost, the tendrils of each impatient breeze tugging my hair wildly. I hugged my dark green cardigan tighter around myself, almost protectively in nature. I had a destination in mind, and I was determined not to let the weather or anything else deter me. I turned the corner onto Neibolt Street. There it stood: the looming, monstrous eyesore. Neibolt house. It was a decrepit, dilapidated old house - one that held many mysteries, according to the myriad of rumours that floated around this quaint little town.
I considered myself to be a bit of a self-proclaimed weirdo; someone who liked to urban explore, someone who wasn't afraid of ghosts, someone whose interest is piqued when mysterious are involved. So, naturally, after talking with a few of my coworkers about the history of the old house on Neibolt Street, I wanted to see it for myself.
With my flashlight in hand, my black boots scraped across the gravel of the pavement as I walked right up to Neibolt house. Coming upon the house felt wrong - almost like you were being watched. I turned and looked over my shoulders just to double check, but no one was there. A crackle of lightning shot across the sky behind the house: truly an omen, come to think of it. Rain would be here soon. I could already smell it, and it was dark enough out as it was. I gingerly clicked on my flashlight, a cone of warm, orange light guiding my way as I aimed it at the gate. And what a poor excuse for a gate it was. Rusted beyond belief, it barely hung onto the chain link fence it was attached to. It looked like it would disintegrate with a single touch. Surprisingly, it held up as I pushed it open, the right side of the gate slowly opening, but not without a groan. Weeds littered the front yard, as well as a few wildflowers, which added a surprising pop of color to an otherwise very dull landscape. I surveyed the front door with my flashlight.
The steps leading to the house seemed somewhat sturdy, but it made me wonder what condition the inside was in.
I made sure to bring a small first aid kit inside my little canvas shoulder bag. You never know what could happen when you're out doing things you're not supposed to be doing. Best to be prepared.
With a tug on the strap of my bag, I toed my way through the weeds and up the steps. I beamed my light at the door handle. More rust. I hesitated for just a moment, but I was far too curious about what might lie inside of a house this old. Curiosity didn't always kill the cat, after all; in this case, looking back, it only made my curiosity stronger.
I wrapped my hand around the handle and tugged. It opened with ease, with a creak or two to fill the silence.
I would be lying if I said my breath didn't catch in my throat when I pulled the door open. You never know what to expect when you're urban exploring; my mind filled with ideas of vintage, antique treasures caked in decades old dust. Oh, the goldmine that could possibly lie inside!
With a small little smile on my face, I trudged in, shutting the door behind me as quietly as possible. Just in case.
I shined my flashlight around, surveying my surroundings. The smell of mildew and decay was overwhelming. I coughed slightly, bringing the sleeve of my cardigan up to my face.
There was an ancient organ on the far right wall, spiders having made their home amongst the pipes. Shining my light around, it was evident that cobwebs littered every corner and crevice of this house. No matter how many times I explored somewhere abandoned, the one thing that always startled me were the spiders. Oh, how I detested them. I took a step forward, the hardwood planks creaking beneath the soles of my boots. Aiming my flashlight down revealed a once beautiful ornate rug, now caked in filth. I heard a creak come from somewhere in the distance. I flicked the beam of my light towards where I heard the noise, my body going rigid. There was no one there, thankfully. It was just an old house settling, I told myself. Duh. They tend to do that.
Still, it didn't ease my mind much; in this house, there was a constant feeling that you weren't alone. Though I had gone urban exploring many times, this location somehow felt...different.
I moved through the foyer and living area until I came to the kitchen. It still had all of the original appliances, and though they were dusty beyond belief, they still looked stunning. I ran my fingers delicately along the dials of the oven, tracing their shapes. Such beauty hidden in such a state of dismay; it was hard to believe. While admiring the vintage appliances, I heard the sound of shuffling behind me. I quickly spun around, clutching a hand to my chest. Wildly shining my light around revealed nothing out of sorts. No animals, no vagrants.
Get it together, I thought to myself; it wasn't like me to be so...nervous.
Part of me swears I heard a giggle, but I knew it had to be my imagination. Maybe the ancient air in this decrepit old house was making me crazy. That had to be it. It couldn't be too good breathing in all this mildew.
I turned and left the kitchen, opting to go up the stairs. I had to watch my step wherever I walked because there were certain spots on the floors that looked as though they could give out at any moment. The staircase didn't look much better. In some areas, parts of the steps had caved in completely, leaving a hollow abyss in their wake. I needed to be cautious as I made my ascent.
I clutched onto the dusty, wooden banister with my free hand, careful not to catch any splinters. Once I reached the top, I spun my light around. Again, I was alone, thanking the gods that no one was squatting here.
I wandered off into what appeared to be a teenager's bedroom, still completely furnished. My eyes widened with excitement as I took it all in. The desk, littered with old notebooks and papers. Perhaps one of these was a journal, I pondered. The closet with its doors swung open, vintage clothes of all sorts hung up neatly on hangers just collecting dust. What a shame. The shelves on the wall, with trophies and figurines aplenty. This place had history.
With a little chuckle, I got to work.
There was no time to waste. I flipped through a composition book on the desk, eager to see if any were old journals. This one appeared to be schoolwork, forever left unfinished. I picked up another notebook, flipping page after page. Oh! This one might actually be interesting, I thought to myself. I pushed the flap of my canvas bag open, sticking the old notebook inside.
Next, I moved over to the dresser. Old perfumes sat atop on a tray, stray dust bunnies running away as I approached. I stuck a few in my bag as a keepsake. I was a sucker for taking home treasures. I suddenly heard another sound behind me, close - it sounded like someone breathed very close to my ear.
There was no mistaking the sound of that. It sent a shiver straight down my spine. I wondered, could this place be haunted...?
I spun around, expecting to become face to face with someone, but alas - nothing. I let out a frustrated sigh, as this was the third time something like this had happened on this little trip. Haunted or not, I needed to gather my bearings and chill out.
I sat my canvas bag down, moving over to the closet. I gently looked through the rack of clothes hanging up, coughing a little as the settled dust became unsettled dust. I waved a hand around, my gaze settling on an old nightgown. It was a soft rose color, with white lace trim around the neck and sleeves.
"Pretty," I murmured out loud, fingers cascading over the silk fabric.
"Pretty," something behind me repeated. Clutching the pink article of clothing to my chest, I turned around fast enough to give myself whiplash. I dropped my flashlight in the midst of the chaos. There, standing a good few feet behind me in the middle of the room, was a man in a raggedy, silver clown costume. He had to be nearly 7 feet tall. I stumbled backward, catching myself on the closet door.
What the fuck...? Who was this freakish man and how long had he been here?!
"I-I'm sorry, I'm going now-" I sputtered an apology, making a start for the door. The clown suddenly jumped in front of me to block my path, his hands splayed out in the air in surprise. On his crimson-painted lips, a cruel grin snuck up, showing off his two jagged front teeth. Oh, no.
"Going? Going where?" The clown taunted, taking a step forward, cocking his massive head to the side. His hair, a flaming orange, curled up at the sides and on the top of his head. His white face paint began to flake off on his large forehead. But it was his eyes that were the most fearsome of all. They were amber, and they glowed. There was nothing normal about this man, from the tip of his giant head to the soles of his pompom-tipped clown boots.
I stood frozen in place; the sheer audacity of this man to just jump out in front of me like that had me surprised, to say the least.
"Um, I- I-" I stuttered, unable to coherently form sentences in the heat of the moment.
"What's the matter y/n?" The clown asked, feigning concern on his face. He stepped closer. "Never seen a clown before?" The man in the clown costume cackled wildly, a deeply unsettling sound that writhed its way under my skin and settled deep inside me. My eyes grew wide. He - it - knew my name. Logically, that wasn't possible. There was no way.
"How...?" I couldn't form a single thought in my head. I tried to sidestep away from the man, feeling incredibly uncomfortable. The man sidestepped in return. We were now circling each other. My hands, still holding the pink nightgown, trembled softly.
"Oh, don't tell me you're scared," the clown cooed, his gruesome grin growing impossibly larger. A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. It sounded almost like a growl. With each step the man took, the comical jingle of bells followed. His eyes were trained on my every movement. He flexed his white-gloved hands, a sickening strand of drool dripping from those red lips. "There's nothing to be scared of, y/n, no, no," the man murmured, his face growing serious. He shook his head, jingling bells following suit. "I'm just a regular old clown. Tell me: do you want a balloon?"
He extended one of his arms, bringing it around behind his back. As I watched with my face twisted up in a fearful grimace, the clown brought his arm back around front, a bright, red balloon on a string clasped between his index and thumb. He held it out for me, bringing his other arm to rest behind his back chivalrously. The man took a delicate bow, only to look up at me from beneath his lashes.
"Go on... take it," the man purred, his voice low. He stood still, the balloon outstretched and waiting. Ominously.
I didn't know what else to do. Taking it felt wrong- so incredibly wrong. But what else do you do when you're presented with a situation like this? I discarded the nightgown, gingerly took a little step forward and retrieved the balloon, quick to step back and away from this strange man. The clown clasped his hands behind his back, that familiar grin growing on his face again. "There, that wasn't so hard, was it?" His voice grew gravelly.
I looked up at the balloon between my fingers, with every fiber of my being feeling like I needed to escape.
"Who...are you?" I asked tentatively, unsure if I even wanted to know the answer. I eyed the man, who straightened himself up as he spoke.
"Why, I'm Pennywise the dancing clown, of course," the clown retorted, offering me a jovial little wave. There was so much discomfort weaved in between these interactions. There was only one thing I was sure of: this clown should not be in this house. Technically, I wasn't supposed to be, either, but I wasn't dressed up in clown garb. I gave a weak little chuckle in response.
"Okay, well, nice to meet you. I'll be going now..." I stepped backwards softly, the balloon bouncing to catch up with my sudden movement. I kept my eyes on the clown - Pennywise, as he stated his name was - as I began my subtle walk backward.
"Going so soon? But you just got here, y/n! Don't you want to keep exploring?"
I bit my lower lip pensively.
"Were...you following me?" I asked, heat creeping up on the back of my neck.
Pennywise chuckled, nodding his head slowly.
"Oh, yes, I've been watching you for awhile, y/n," Pennywise remarked, another thick strand of drool slinking down from his grinning lips like a spider descending its web. The man stepped forward, his full height such a stark contrast to mine.
"You're such a brave girl, aren't you? Tell me - would you like to explore somewhere even scarier? Hmm? I know a place..." I furrowed my brows, the ground beneath me complaining with a loud creak as I stepped back. I looked over my shoulder. The door was right there. One more step and I could bolt. This man was the definition of creepy. But there was something about him... Something I couldn't quite place in my mind. Something about his stature... His predatory expression... The way he just simply didn't belong here. It intrigued me more than it should. "N-No, I'm okay, but thank you..." I mumbled, taking that final step back.
"Oh, but you'd love the sewers, y/n! It's full of mysteries! You love mysteries, don't you?" The clown stepped forward, quickly this time, in an attempt to catch up with me. Or scare me. Or both. I nearly stumbled backwards. The sewers? This man was definitely attempting to kidnap me and take me somewhere where I would never be found. My fight or flight began to kick in. I needed to get out of here. Pennywise's amber eyes shone in the darkness, a mischievous glint in them.
"Why... We could even go right now! Yes!" Pennywise exclaimed, lunging forward in an attempt to grab me. I screamed and bolted, the balloon I abandoned trailing upwards toward the ceiling, forgotten.
White-hot fear flashed through my body as I sprinted down the stairs, careless as all hell about the caved in areas. My ankle slipped through one of the craters in the staircase; I let out a pathetic little whimper as I fell against the rotting wood. I looked over my shoulder - there was no one there. But I could still feel his ominous presence. I heaved myself up and out of the hole, pushing myself to get down that staircase. I reached the bottom and made a beeline for the front door. I turned around and looked over my shoulder once more, but when I turned back around, I was greeted with something solid. I grunted as my body collided with his. Pennywise.
Curiously, the smell of popcorn and cotton candy - sickeningly sweet - assaulted my senses. I slowly raised my head, my eyes traveling up his clown suit. Silver satin material, fluffy, red pompoms, weathered neck ruffles... And then, the man himself. Those amber-hued eyes locked onto mine, another devious grin forming on his red lips.
"Won'tcha visit the sewers with me, y/n? I'll protect you from all the big, bad scary monsters..." Pennywise chuckled, his voice laced with malice as he loomed over me. He was even more menacing up close. "No thanks! I really need to leave!" With fear in my veins, I tried to flee around him. He didn't hesitate as he grabbed my wrist, jingle bells chiming with his movements. I gasped, tugging on my wrist.
"Let me GO! You're fucking crazy!" I exclaimed, feeling like a trapped animal. Pennywise only cackled in response, that eerie grin plastered onto his white face all the while. "Crazy? I don't think I'm the crazy one! I'm not an innocent little girl going into abandoned buildings by herself! Foolish little thing..."
The grip he had on my wrist intensified; I was sure it was going to leave a bruise. Still, I kept tugging. "Please! Leave me alone!" I cried out, trying my best to fight back. Maybe he was right; maybe I was a little bit stupid for what I did. But I wasn't about to go down without a fight. "You'd love the sewers, y/n! It's where I take all the other foolish little kiddos who act just... like... you." He booped my nose with each final word. I gasped softly, lost in his words. Pennywise suddenly tugged me closer by my wrist, causing me to lose my balance and fall against his massive form. Scrambling to steady myself, I looked up at him. The clown forced himself against my neck, making me flinch. He breathed in deeply, exhaling softly against my flesh. I let out a soft, nervous whimper. Pennywise pulled back with a slowly growing smile, then he spoke: "Your fear... it smells delicious."
At that, I felt my knees buckle. I shoved him away from me, little whimpery sounds escaping my lips as I ran towards the door. I halfheartedly expected it to be locked, but it opened. I pushed it open with vigor, breathily panting as I made my escape from Neibolt house.
"You'll be back," I heard Pennywise speak as I ran, his unnerving cackle breaking through the silence between us.
"Little girls like you always come back."
And he was right. I did go back...