The door creaked like flat strings on a cello as Bill pushed it open, harsh light shining into the old and abandoned house. Bill looked behind him and gave us a stare, as if daring us to turn back, before hesitantly taking a step inside. Richie, Eddie and I followed reluctantly. The house had an awful smell that reminded me of Butch's breath and I coughed the dust from out of my lungs before taking in my surroundings.

Off-white sheets covered moth-eaten furniture and cobwebs hung from every nook and recess, hanging like lace curtains. There were was a staircase to the right, which I did not trust in the slightest to hold my weight, and an open door to the left which revealed a room with an uncovered couch. The rest of the doors were closed and I had no intention of opening them.

"Fuck." Richie said, shaking his head as he took in the interior. "I can't believe I pulled the short straw. You guys are lucky you're not measuring dicks."

"Shut up Richie." Eddie muttered.

"We couldn't, anyway. Beverly and I don't have any." I stated. Richie shrugged.

Eddie took a sniff of the air, and then shuddered in disgust. "I can smell that."

"Don't breathe through your mouth." Richie offered.

"How come?"

"Because then you're eating it." Richie replied. Eddie gagged and fumbled in his fanny pack for his inhaler. I walked past Bill and examined a painting on the wall. It was worn and faded from years of neglect, but I could still make out a picture of a well and what looked to be woman carrying a baby. I turned around and beckoned for Bill to come over, but he was staring into the room on the left. I walked over to him and saw Richie standing beside the couch, looking frightened as he stared at a piece of paper in his hands.

"What?" Bill asked and moved towards him. Eddie and I followed.

"It.. It says I'm missing." Richie trembled, and I realised what he was holding. An unmistakeable photo of Richie's face was plastered in the middle of the page, with the all too familiar words MISSING printed above it in bold.

"Y-You're not missing, Richie." Bill said softly, and he was right. This must have been a trick of some sort - how could somebody know that Richie was going to go missing?

"Then why's it say it there? It's my shirt, that's my hair, that's my face, that's my name, that's the date!" Richie trembled as he spoke and Bill grabbed his shoulders, forcing him to look him in the eye.

"Calm down, this isn't real." he said, giving him another shake as Richie started to hyperventilate again. "This isn't real, Richie.

"No, it says it! It says It!" Richie yelled, pushing Bill away. "What the fuck, am I missing?!" Eddie and I stood back with fearful expressions on our faces as we watched what used to be a boy full of jokes and laughter turn into a spluttering mess. Eddie put his hand over his mouth, tears sparkling in his eyes as he watched his friend.

"Calm down, calm down!" Bill said and grabbed Richie's shirt. "Look at me Richie, look at me." Richie stopped trying to push him away and forced himself to focus on Bill's face. "That-that isn't real. It's playing tricks on you." Bill's words must have reassured Richie, because he started to calm down. I walked forward and out a hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

"Hello?" a girl's voice echoed suddenly from upstairs. We froze and stared at each other with wide eyes. "Hello?" the voice spoke again. Bill let go of Richie and moved towards the sound. "Help me, please!" We went after Bill who stopped at the base of the stairs, looking upwards as he searched for the source of the pleas. Finding nothing, he started his ascent. I hesitated before placing my foot on the first step, still not trusting it to not cave and send me falling. Thankfully, there was only a slight creak, and I followed Bill without too much apprehension. I heard the other two's slow footsteps behind me and I tried to make mine as quiet as possible.

We reached a landing, the stairs still continuing up another level. Bill must have thought the voice came from this storey, because he didn't move to go up any further. Together, we walked forward and stopped abruptly at the entrance of the hallway. My blood went cold. The room at the very end of the corridor's door was slightly ajar, and a girl was sprawled face down on the floor. All I could make out was a mop of curly brown hair and pale skin covered in dirt. She coughed and her head turned towards us. Her face was one I had seen all over town, plastered in the centre of an abundance of missing posters. I heard the boys gasp.

"Betty?" Bill whispered.

"Ripsom?" Richie added.

She opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was a scream as she was yanked backwards and disappeared from view. I let out a small yelp and took a step backwards, bumping into Eddie who was, for some reason, facing the other way. Richie and Bill started after Betty and I followed, not wanting to be left behind.

Slowly, we approached the door. Why was Betty here? Was this where all the missing kids were, in the house on Neibolt Street? That didn't make sense. People walked past here all the time and they would have heard the screams if that was the case. Bill pushed the door and it swung open, revealing what appeared to be a bedroom judging by the old mattress abandoned in the middle of the floor.

I stepped further inside and took in more of my surroundings. There was a closed door to the left, and another behind us to the right. I was willing to bet my right hand that Betty was behind one of those doors. I stepped forward to tell the others about my theory but I was cut off by the sound of the door slamming shut behind us. Surprised, I spun around, suddenly realising that Eddie wasn't with us.

"Guys!" I heard him screen from the hallway. I ran forward and grasped the doorknob, but it wouldn't turn. "Guys!"

"Eddie!" Bill yelled and tried the door as well, but it still wouldn't open. "Eddie, open the door! Are you okay?"

Richie banged on the door, cursing. Suddenly, we heard a scream followed by a crash coming from below. "Eddie? Eddie, are you alright?!" I yelled, but he didn't reply. Richie disappeared back into the room and Bill stepped away from the door, shaking his head.

"I need to get to him. I need to break down this d-door." he whispered, running his fingers through his hair as he racked his brain for ideas.

"Eddie!" I yelled again, banging on the door. After a few moments, I gave up and sighed, pressing my forehead against the wood. We'd barely been in this house for five minutes and things were already going badly.

"Richie?" Bill said, and I turned around just in time to see the door to the left slam in his face. I ran forward as he fiddled with the doorknob, the door not opening either. "Richie! Open the door!"

"Is he in there?" I asked, not expecting a reply considering the yells that could be heard in the other room. "Fuck. Fuck!" I stepped away, panicking. We were being split up. Next time, it would be Bill and I banging on opposite sides of a door.

Richie's yells stopped, but Bill kept persisting. We needed help, and now. I didn't even want to think about what was happening to Eddie and Richie and I forced the dark thoughts out of my mind. Stan, Mike, Ben and Beverly! They could help!

I ran to the window, the glass surprisingly intact but still with a couple of boards nailed to the frame. I peered down to see the four standing where we had left them. Beverly was peering at the front door with a fearful expression, Ben sitting on the steps in front of her. Mike had his arm around Stan, who was shaking as he said something.

"Guys!" I yelled, pounding on the window. "Guys, help!" But they didn't look up. I kept yelling and pounding on the glass, so hard a crack ran through it and I stopped. I was definitely making enough noise that they'd be able to hear me, but it was as if something was preventing the sound from carrying out.

"Lara, h-help me with this." Bill said. I turned from the window and made towards him, just as the door sprang open and Richie's yells flooded our ears. He ran through the now open door, his face an expression of pure terror, before Bill quickly slammed it shut. Bill wasn't quick enough, though, to stop the horrifying image of the clown leaping towards Richie with it's arm outstretched and teeth bared, from reaching my eyes. I was frozen to the spot.

"Let's get out of here." Bill said, his hand on the gasping Richie's shoulder. Suddenly, a gurgling sound came from inside the mattress and lumps started to appear, as if something was moving inside of it. One lump pressed so hard against the top of the mattress that it broke through and our eyes widened as Eddie's head appeared. His face was a sickly grey and purple veins surrounded his eyes. He looked like a corpse.

"Wanna play loogie?" he asked, before a thick black liquid started bubbling out of his mouth. It pooled onto the floor, sizzling where it touched, and slowly started making its way towards us. Eddie started convulsing as he laughed before his head disappeared back into the mattress. If the situation was different and less frightening, I might have laughed.

Acting instantly, we turned and ran towards the other room. Bill thrust the door open and we were greeted with three other doors, each with red writing on it that I prayed to god wasn't blood.

The door on the left read NOT SCARY AT ALL, the middle door's spelt SCARY, and the one on the right was VERY SCARY.

We glanced at each other, and without thinking, we lunged towards the door on the left and pushed it open. We were greeted with darkness which made us stop, and I was unsure whether to go through or not.

"Where's my shoe?" a girl's voice whispered, and a shudder went down my spine. Bill pulled on a bit of string and dim blue light flooded the small room. But it was not dim enough. A girl with hair covering her face, although I could still recognise her as Betty Ripsom, was dangling in the middle of the room, her arms bound by ropes to the ceiling. That wasn't bad enough, though, because her waist-down had been severed and all that was left of her was her torso and head.

Richie let out an even louder scream than I did and slammed the door shut. "Where the fuck were her legs?!" Richie yelled, his back pressed against the door, keeping it shut. I looked down at the ground to see the black substance had reached the doorway, only a couple of metres separating us.

"What the fuck is that? What is that?!" Richie continued to scream and I wondered whether he was talking about Betty's dangling body or the black stuff on the floor.

"Th-this isn't real." Bill said, turning once again to grab Richie by the shoulders. Unfortunately, I had to disagree with Bill there. Betty's body looked pretty real to me. "Remember the missing kids poster? That wasn't real, and so this isn't real." Richie calmed down, so Bill pulled him away from the door and placed is hand on the doorknob. "You ready?" He asked us.

"No!" Richie and I said unison, but Bill opened the door anyway. To my relief and astonishment, we were greeted with the hallway that we had come through earlier.

"Oh thank fuck." Richie said in relief. I was about to ask how this had worked, but Eddie's screams cut me off.

"Help! Help!" his voice carried from downstairs, and we sprinted down the hallway without hesitation, bounding down the flight of stairs. Bill, who was in the lead, pushed through one of the closed doors on the ground floor and we ran in. Almost immediately, I wanted to turn back. I'd take Betty Ripsom's mangled body over the sight in front of me any day.

The clown was crouched over Eddie, his hand on the cowering boy's face. Slowly, it turned its head to look at us with a yellow glare.

😅