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PostSubject: Pennywise   September 14th 2017, 8:01 pm

Author's Note: I was inspired after watching the newest release of IT. Pretty damn good movie. I do not own anything in the ITdom that Stephen King created. Sadly Pennywise is not mine. I do however own Jessie. Smile Enjoy. More will be added as I go.


Chapter One

Neibolt St
Derry, Maine

Denbrough's tale of terror was proving to be a work of non-fiction rather than the musings of an over active and fertile imagination. Jessie stood before the Well House on 29 Neibolt St, back-lit by a foggy orange glow from the single street lamp on the corner. Something had called her to this dilapidated house and it wasn't just the excitement of facing the unknown. Perhaps it was her connection with IT that had called her here. Ever since she could remember, the guise of Pennywise the Dancing Clown had manifested in her dreams. Always acting as a spectator to her minds musings. Lately, however, she had begun to notice the clown playing a more active role. The closer she got to her twenty seventh birthday, the more frequently Pennywise appeared and the stronger the connection seemed to grow.

So close now, Jessie. His slightly high-pitched yet eerie inhuman voice whispered almost seductively through her mind. It sounded so real that she half expected him to be standing behind her if she turned around, but that was not the case. He had told her once that he was trapped, imprisoned somethere in the sewers. Patiently waiting for her to come to him. She was the key to his freedom, his release.

We will make them all float. Pennywise promised. There was no need to elaborate further on the matter. They both knew he was speaking about her past and her anger at the seven kids who had reduced this ancient being to be trapped in his own domain. What still confused her was why an infamous child killing entity would be so enraged over her abuse growing up. A question he had yet to answer and neither one of them was sure on what the actual answer was.

Taking a deep breath, Jessie carefully made her way up the rickety front steps, the fingertips of her left hand trailed over the banister. The instant her skin came in contact with the wood, a strong flash image nearly brought her to her knees. She could see a thin young boy, no older than thirteen, pick up a discarded bottle and smash it against the railings post.

Beep beep, Richie.

Focus, Jessie. The clown's words, his voice, brought reality screeching into focus and she caught herself before she tripped. Touching objects and getting small flashes had always been normal for her, but this was so much stronger than anything she had ever felt. Did it have to do with her connection with IT?

There's my girl. He purred in delight. It marveled him with how mentally strong she was. The bond they shared, this attachment confused him. He was so very old, a creature of simple needs. Hunt, feed, and sleep. But, this girl made him feel something far stronger. He had become obsessed with her, almost as if she had become his drug of choice. He had watched over her in her dreams while she slept. Ten years he had simply watched and waited. As she became older, he had begun interacting with her in conversations, even going so far as to touch her. Perhaps that was what had spawned their bond.

For a moment, it felt as if Jessie's body had a mind of it's own. She moved as if she had been pulled by invisible strings through the dank interior of the Well House. She paid no attention to the rooms as she passed through them, but she glimpsed an outdated refrigerator with the door still wide open. She could almost picture Pennywise's tall, nearly seven foot tall frame crammed into the appliances tiny interior. She snorted softly at the mental image before moving through the kitchen and towards the door that led to the basement. The stairs gave way to a dirt floor. In it's center was a large, crumbling stone well with a knotted rope that hung down and into the darkness.

I sense no fear from you. IT commented in what almost sounded like awe. Normally it would have angered him, enraged him. Pennywise couldn't explain the elation he felt knowing the extent of her strength, of her resolve. He was proud.

There isn't anything that I have faced that I feared more than what went on in my childhood. Her voice so soft spoken and husky was like music to IT's ears. The sensual, seductive timber made him want to go to her, to touch her. Possess her and not in the same way he had done with his past victims.

Did you mean it when you said we would make them float? She asked, grabbing a hold of the rope with both hands. She hesitated, perhaps waiting for a response before continuing further.

They will all float. He confirmed. He paused for a minute, musing over his own thoughts. It angers me that I feel anything for you. I don't want to welcome it. I don't want it! He hissed out through her thoughts. But I can not bring myself to hurt you, Jessie.

That was honest of you, Pennywise, thank you.

Without another word or any more hesitation, she lowered herself into the bowels of the well.

The cold, murky waters of the sewers barely seeped into the white Columbia winter boots that Jessie wore. They were laced tightly over form hugging black leggings that provided her with more freedom of movement to crawl around in the damp tunnels. A comftorable black sweater and worn black leather jacket rounded off her look of comfort. Once she had reached the bottom of the well, she had secured her waist length black curly hair into a single loose braid.

I can smell you, Jessie... He taunted in a sing-song tone, sounding almost as if he was licking his lips in anticipation.

I trust I don't smell rank. She joked, pulling out a small pen flashlight from the pocket of her coat.

Mmm. Not at all. You smell delicious. Better than fear.

Not sure if that's any comfort. Sounds as though you're thinking about snacking on my leg.

More like what's between them... He muttered to himself, vaguely taken off guard by his own train of thought. He had never entertained any kind of sexual thoughts about anyone, ever. He fed on children! He shouldn't fantasize about what this woman would taste like in a state of arousal. Pennywise ran his white gloved hands over his face with an inhuman groan. He could sense Jessie's own thoughts veering towards the same carnal direction as his own and he felt the erection the guise of the clown provided him, harden considerably. She was getting closer...

Jessie ducked through a particularly low archway. It opened up into a subterranean chamber that was larger than she had expected. A collection of toys and other trinkets were piled together into a spiraling formation that reached the ceiling and housed a large metal door that more than likely led to what had once been IT's lair.

[b]Funny how we are referring to you more often as Pennywise and He rather than It.[/i] She pointed out, shining the beam of the light over the pile of collectibles.

"I noticed." Came the growling tone of the clown from directly behind her. She whirled at the unexpectedness of his physical presence.

"Damn, you're tall." She exclaimed, her rich chocolate brown gaze sweeping up from the toes of the red pom pom tipped boots to the top of his eeriely high forehead and eye searing red hair. His sinister eyes shifted from blue to yellow a split second before he was suddenly standing in front of her. Close enough to touch. She craned her head back to look fully up at his white painted face. The corners of his red lips curled up into bold crimson lines that bisected his eyes and continued up past the curling scars where his eyebrows should have been. His dull grey costume seemed to be from several different time periods, making it difficult to pin point exactly how old he truly was, but she knew he was older than anything in this tone and more than likely older than anything on this planet.

"You didn't need me to free you, did you, Pennywise?"

The clown closed his eyes when she said the name he had adapted form himself. It sounded like music to his ears.

"No." He admitted, reopening his eerie gaze. He looked directly into her own eyes and suddenly reached out. A large gloved hand snatched the front of her throat as his lips pulled back from strangely formed front teeth. They were a bit longer and narrower than they should have been. His cherub cheeked baby-face looked even more sinister with such a dark expression and yet she could not bring herself to fear him.

"Go ahead. Kill me if that's what you intend to do." Jessie was strangely calm, even in the hands of such a creature that had killed without remorse. She did not fear death. She feared only emptiness.

With a growl of resignation, Pennywise allowed the hand that gripped her throat to move to the back of her neck. His long fingers curled at the nape, spanning over the entire back of it.

"I can not. I need you too much, Jessie." He whispered, letting the thumb of his free hand lightly trace over the contour of her lower lip. "I do not know why, but I need you."

Strangely humbled by this normally emotionless entity proclaiming it's need for her, she reached up and entwined her fingers with his. Even through the gloves he was warm. She had half expected his touch to be ice cold. She felt him tense at her touch and she expected him to grab her throat again. What surprised her more was when he increased the pressure on the back of her neck and pulled her into the embrace of his arms. The long limbs wrapping around her almost like a spiders legs winding around it's prey. Would she die here, beneath the strange town of Derry? Unknowingly by the sparse population above them? No. Pennywise's embrace was not one of forboding doom. Strange as it was, there was a sense of comfort and peace. It was protective and in it's own way, as caring as a creature like IT could manage.

"Centuries. A million years in this world and I had yet to feel anything. But now, now I feel the need to protect, the need to harm those that dared to touch you. I do not understand any of it."

"I do not have any answers for you, Pennywise but I can hazard a guess as to what may have triggered the bond." She admitted, releasing his hand from hers, but still maintaining the intimacy of standing in the circle of his arms. "I was not yet born when my parents moved to Derry. I am pretty certain that I was even conceived here just like most it's residence. I remember they started acting strangely when I was perhaps three or four. I do not know how that sticks in my mind, nor why I remember it so vividly."

"You have very strong mental abilities. Empathy, telepathy. It wouldn't surprise me if you share some form of telekinesis as well. I would suspect that your memories are nearly photographic."

She smiled faintly before continuing. "Almost. Borderline I believe. My parents strange behavior led to even stranger events. Abuse, neglect. I was often left home alone to fend for myself. I was scarred very badly when I was four. They had told the doctors that I had fallen. No one questioned it, not even the nurses but I remember what had happened."

Not wanting her to relive those memories, Pennywise used his strong connection with her and delved into her thoughts, prodding at her mind with his own. The first thing he felt was her abject fear. The sheer terror of a child so young facing some unknown horror. Normally this fear would have enticed him, it would have triggered his hunger. Instead, it pulled on his rage.

Her shrill scream echoed off the dark damp walls as she was dragged through a labyrinth of tunnels. Tears, hot and scalding streamed down her dirt caked face. Holding tightly to her kicking legs as her mother, Diane. Her father, Richard, held tight beneath her arms. He kept both limbs pinned to her sides to keep her from clawing at them, to keep from the sweet release of escape. Faces blurred above her as more entered her field of vision. Wasn't that Mr. Parker from down the street? Confused and terrified, young Jessie screamed. She was soon quieted when they placed her on some kind of ancient stone slab. The cold, damp rock bit into her skin beneath the thin cotton nightgown she wore.

"You must keep her still." A dark voice spoke from the shadows just above her head that was trapped in the vise like grip of her father's hands. "In order to bind her to IT, a sacrifice must be made. Is there any willing to pay such a price?"

"I am." Her mother, the very woman who had given birth to her, allowed Mrs. Tanner to take a hold of the girl's legs. She knelt before the robed figure that led this coven, this cult who seemed to worship the entity they called IT.

Young Jessie watched in horror as a sharp knife was sliced across her mother's throat. With the same bloody knife, the figure turned to her and stabbed it's blade down into the girl's leg. The small limb was pinned to the stone preventing her from moving. She screamed in pain, her tiny voice echoing through the tunnels.


Jessie forcefully shoved Pennywise from her mind. She hadn't meant to, but instinct had taken over the moment he had unlocked the door to those memories. She had acted on sheer instinct. Surprised, he stumbled back away from her, already mourning the loss of her presence both physically and mentally.

"Oh God." She mumbled, dropping to her knees on the damp ground. One hand braced the ground as she fell, supporting her weight while the other pressed against her right temple in an attempt to ease the pounding slamming against her skull. "They bound me to you." She whispered softly.

"Yes. They used the lure of your energy to call to me. They took a part of my essence and fused it with yours. Effectively binding us together. Not many would have survived such a process and I was not aware of it until I touched your mind."

"Why would they do such a thing?"

The clown crouched down by her and placed his large hand beneath her chin. He carefully tilted her face up to him. Those sinister yellow eyes glowing menacingly, but not towards her.

"They think to control me by using you, but they do not realize that with the missing piece of my essence by my side, I am that much stronger."

"So their plan back-fired on them?"

Pennywise's lips curled into a grin full of such malice that it was nearly palpable.

"And they have no idea just how much it did."

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