"I've got at least six known missing kids and five unsolved murders, including those three intruders that were in your apartment, Elizabeth! Now if you don't start cooperating, I'm going to have to arrest you on suspicion of murder."

My eyes narrowed. Officer James D. Marcus had been "interrogating" me for the past hour, claiming I knew something about what happened Halloween night.

I did, but I wasn't going to tell him about Pennywise, that's for sure. And I had plenty of reasons why.

One, the Derry Police would never believe that a demented demon clown lived in the sewers and slept for twenty-seven years, only waking up to eat and scare the shit out of people. Two, it would place me at the scene of the crime… which I already was placed there when the attack happened. Finally, if everything previously mentioned did not happen, I would have to have some kind of blood testing, which would most likely reveal whose heart it was that I ate and that would make me sick to my stomach.

"Marcus!" I couldn't contain my relief when the Sergeant burst into the room. He had to have seen everything that was going on and didn't like the way it was being handled.

Officer Marcus stepped back and the Sergeant took his place, asking, "Lizzie, we need your help."

"I'm trying my best to give you any answers I have," I answered, "All I know is what I told you. I saw those men try to rob and attack Mrs. Higgins and I ended up on the wrong end of the stick. I blacked out, and I was at least five blocks away from my apartment when I came to."

"And you didn't hear anything? See anyone enter before blacking out?"

"No," I shake my head in denial, "I'm sorry, I was focused on trying not to die at the hands of those…"

I gritted my teeth in anger at the memory. If it wasn't for Pennywise, you would've died.

The Sergeant placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder, "It's alright, Lizzie. But if you remember anything, let us know okay?"

"Of course, sir."

He let me go, even though Officer Marcus was throwing a temper-tantrum about the whole ordeal. I wouldn't be surprised if they had him stand in a corner for the rest of the day.

James D. Marcus was a close buddy of my deceased brother's and seemed to still mourn him, even though my family had forgotten all about him. He also was the one to hurt my feelings the most when I was little.

"You still have a crush on Jamie?" my brother taunted as he, James, and two other boys tore apart the drawing pad that once was in the little girl's hand.

I shook my head at the memory, leaving the police station.

The crisp November air hung all around. Most of the leaves had fallen, but a few still clung to the branches, letting the late morning light shine through the multitude of colors. I pulled my scarf closer to my face as my breath puffed into the chilled air, walking down main street.

Most of the kids would be in school and the parents would be at work in the next city over, not that Derry had anything to offer as far as job wise. Most of businesses were family-owned and operated, with only a few that allowed other people not in the family to work like the local diner and the gas station.

Luckily for me, my work was mostly home based, so I could spend at least an hour over by my safe haven.

The barrens were a well-known walkway by the small stream that ran all around Derry, though it was more of a river at this point. Some people didn't want their children playing near it, however, do to the fact that it came right from the sewer system and seemed to clean itself out as it flowed in between the stones that rested under the water.

A small girl was sitting near said stream on a large stone. Trees surrounded her from all angles, keeping her shielded from anyone that may come by. She held a long stick and was poking at the leaves as they floated by on the stream.

Ripples touched the surface of the water as tears slid down her cheeks, falling into the water. She hurriedly rubbed her eyes with anger as her bottom lip trembled. Lizzie wasn't sure how long she had been hiding here but she didn't want to go home, especially since her brothers and their bully friends were there. Her older sister was away, spending the weekend at a friend's house in Darrel, a city that was a few minutes away from Derry.

She wouldn't have stood up for her anyway, she would've said, "Come on, Lizzie! You're not a baby, are you?"

Lizzie was the baby of the family, but she felt more like the unwanted child.

So, she would run away and hide in these big woods to be by herself. She wondered if anyone would miss her if she was gone or if she disappeared like a few kids had recently. Probably not, she reasoned.

Then, something tapped against her arm.

Lizzie looked next to her to see a bright red balloon with a package tied to it. She pulled the package onto her lap, unwrapping the brown paper to reveal a small sketchbook.

A big grin covered her face, but it fell when she opened the book to the first page to reveal a grotesque message written in what looked like blood.

We all float down here, Lizzie.

Lizzie looked up, her heart racing against her ribcage. In the distance, she caught the sight of something colorful, like a jumpsuit that was patched in multiple different colors. She recognized the face as that of Mr. Pennywise the dancing clown that had been in the sewer drain only a few days ago.

He stood on the far side of the stream, hidden among the trees. There was a bright red balloon in one hand, and the other held what looked like a severed arm, the kind you would see in stores during the Halloween season. He waved the arm at her and Lizzie could see blood covering his face and his ruffled collar.

She grabbed the sketch pad and raced into the woods, clownish laughter following behind her all the way home.

No one had believed me when I came home and told them what I saw. But it didn't seem to matter, cause everyone turned their attention to a body of a seven-year-old girl named Nikki Carlstone that had washed up by one of sewer entrances the following morning, her right arm missing from the elbow up.

I found myself sitting on one of the large rocks near one of known entrances to the sewer system, the sketch pad in my lap. I paged through all the drawings and sketches, most of them from during my school days in Derry. All types of characters with different shades of colors filled each of the pages; kitties, unicorns, a few dogs, and one clown character that was on each and every page.

"What you looking at, Lizzie-bean?" A grey gloved hand snatched the book from my lap and Pennywise began to flip through the pages.

I chuckled, "Just reminiscing the old times."

He stopped at one page. I thought he was going to ask about it, but he continued to flip the pages, changing the subject, "How was the meeting with... what's his name..."

"Officer Marcus?" I sneered, "He's still the same bag of crazy everyone else is in this town."

"Now why does that last name ring a bell?"

"Probably cause he was one of my brother's goons who like to pick on me," I watched as one of Pennywise's invisible eyebrows raised in question.

"Was that one I-"

""Ate? Oh, yes," I nodded, "I hope he tasted good."

"Pennywise laughed out a dark sickly laugh as he shut the pad with a loud snap, "Careful, Lizzie-bean, saying stuff like that could make you more like me."

I took the pad and tapped my fingers against the hardcover, thinking.

No doubt if I was like Pennywise, I'd have to hide from everyone... well, almost everyone. I'd have to sleep for twenty-seven long years too, which wasn't the most ideal. I'd also have to eat raw human flesh for about twelve to sixteen months straight, which made me gag slightly at the memory of consuming that bloodied heart.

But, it couldn't be all bad. I wouldn't have to worry about pleasing every other customer at my job because the cover art "wasn't right." Or worry about my parents asking me when I was going to get a "real" job or settle down and have kids. And, I definitely wouldn't have to worry about some police officer, who made my younger self feel like she was in hell, sniffing around in places he shouldn't.

I growled softly under my breath.

Soft cotton touched the top of one clenched fist and my eyes turned upward to Penny's as his yellow gold eyes filled with worry.

"I'm okay," I huffed, "Just stressed."

"Anything I can do, Lizzie-bean?"

"No... I don't think so..."

"Then, an idea spark. I could almost see the worry turn to fear in Pennywise's golden stare as I gave him a toothy grin, "Actually, I think I know what you can do... if you're hungry enough, of course."

"Why not just come down to the station, Lizzie?"

"I would, Officer Marcus, but I have to be at home to take care of an old friend," I answered, "He's mentally incapacitated, you know."

"No, I didn't. I'll be there, say... thirty minutes?"

"That's fine, it'll give me some time to get my friend into bed so we won't be disturbed."

I smile to myself and hang up the phone. I turn to see my monster clown perched on the island where we shared breakfast this morning.

"Are you sure this is going to work?" he seemed a little nervous about this idea that I had shared with him earlier this afternoon.

Now, Pennywise was never one who was afraid. He was fear himself, the living and breathing devil that made things go bump in the night scamper away like sheep from a wolf, a very hungry wolf at that.

"I know that it will," I smiled with confidence, walking toward him, "He's being an annoyance to me and I won't tolerate someone harassing me about something that I don't want to share."

"Is my little former victim trying to protect me?" the clown grinned, revealing those shark-like teeth again.

"No, but I do like the idea of getting rid of someone I don't care for. Besides, you ate Tyson and his goons. Just this one is left."

Pennywise cackled, jumping from the table and wrapping his arms around me, confidence filling both of us.

"You can't take this back, Lizzie-bean," he warned, "Once we... finish the job, I can't give anything back."

"I'm done with being harassed by the likes of him and the others."

There came a knock then.

"I shooed Pennywise into the coat closet quickly before shutting the door. I took a deep breath and reached for the door handle that led to outside my apartment.

Did I want to do this?

The door opened with a creak and I gave a sultry smile at the Officer behind the wood, "James! Please come in."

James D. Marcus was dressed in the typical blue jeans, white t-shirt, and black coat. He also wore work boots like he had just gotten off the construction site. I held the door open wide as the officer walked in, looking around the apartment. Dirt landed on the floor wherever he went and I felt slightly more at ease about what was coming.

Tape was still covering the one broken window in the sitting room as I needed to find time to get it fixed. The tv had been smashed to bits as well, so only a large painting filled the wall where the tv was originally. But, everything else had been scrubbed clean and blood-free. I had a few candles burning and some incense to help keep the sewer smell at bay.

James took a seat on the couch, removing his baseball hat that he usually wore when off-duty and coat as I moved toward the kitchen, pulling a bottle of Black Pinot Noir from the fridge and two glasses from the pantry.

"Do want some wine?" I asked sweetly.

"No, no thanks."

"Oh, come on!" I poured the wine into two glasses and brought them to the sitting room, "Just one glass? You're not on duty right now and you look like you could use a drink... or two."

James shrugged and smiled, taking the glass. I took a sip of mine as he took a gulp of his.

"So... your friend asleep?"

"Yes, he won't be bothering us for now."

"Then, is it alright if I ask you a few questions?"

"Not unless you let me ask some of my own."

James looked confused. I rolled my eyes and answered, "Look. We're both in the same boat if you ask me. You and I both want to know what happened to my brother, those missing kids, and those three morons that ended up dead in my apartment. I think it's fair to say that I tell you what I know if you tell me what I want to know, capiche?"

James seemed to catch on, "I see. So, you'll ask a question, then I'll ask a question?"

"Sure, let's do it that way. Me first, of course," I set my wine down on the coffee table, "Just for fun, what's your biggest fear?"

"My what now?"

"You know," I shrug my shoulders, "Everyone is afraid of something. What are you afraid of?"

James tapped his chin a few minutes before answering, "I think blood."

"Blood?"

"Yeah, you see it a lot in my line of work. I think seeing your apartment covered in the stuff scared me the most though. What about you? What are you afraid of?"

I snort, knowing fully well that Pennywise was curious about that one too, "Clowns. The ones you see in that slasher film "Killer Klowns from Outer Space". Those ones scared the living daylights out of me."

James started laughing and I didn't like it. It wasn't like Pennywise's comforting dark laughter that was filled with glee. This laughter was tied to being teased, to joking. I gritted my teeth and stood, turning my back to James so I could get my composure.

Come on, Lizzie. Reel him in, now.

James was still laughing as I took my glass back to the kitchen, hoping he wouldn't notice it was still slightly full.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Lizzie!" James' laughter began dying, "I shouldn't have laughed. You didn't laugh at mine. I'm sorry!"

"It's ok, everyone laughs at it. Everyone laughs at me, especially my family."

That shut James up right away. He had turned his body so it was resting against the back of couch with his head turned toward me, dirty work boots up on my furniture. Obviously, he didn't see that the coat closet door had creaked open and blood was slowly beginning to pour from the opening like an open wound.

I smiled again, waving my hand, "Well, it's one of the reasons I came back to Derry. I have to face my demons at some point, don't I?"

"We all do," James agreed, "But, uh, what's the other reasons?"

"That's for me to know, and for you to find out. But, I think it's my turn to ask the question. Let's get to the serious stuff, shall we?"

James nodded, seemingly ready.

"Why the sudden interest? I mean, kids and adults disappear all the time and everyone forgets about it at one point or another, so why hang on?"

"Tyson was an old friend who helped me get away from my own bullies," James answered, "I feel like I owe him that. To know what happened to him."

"I can understand that," I looked down as the blood had reached my ankles. James still seemed oblivious to the whole ordeal.

Well, time for him to face his fears.

I smiled and spoke then, "You know there are legends surrounding Derry, right? How people are killed or come up missing, but are soon forgotten."

I watch as James nodded.

I continue, "I think it's because they see something they're not supposed to... like a monster of sorts."

"You think there's a monster in Derry somewhere?"

"Well, yes. I do. It just appears when it wants to."

I watched oddly satisfied as James moves to stand and finally... finally notices the blood pouring from the closet. He screams bloody murder as he jumps to stand on the couch, but the sweet sticky liquid has already reached the cushions, touching the backs of my thighs.

"What's wrong, James?" I smile innocently, "Feeling a little... grotesque?"

James turned to stare at me as I stand in the small lake of blood with a glass of dark red wine in one hand, my other tucked under my armpit. The look of fear on his face was absolutely priceless. His skin had turned white, whiter than some of the clouds that passed by on a summer day, and his green eyes were nearly bulging from their sockets.

He jumps from the couch to the floor, only to have two bloodied hands grab his legs. I watch in shock, and awe I might add, as the hands pull him into the lake. He continued to scream and shout before disappearing under, air bubbles appearing through the dark thick liquid before ceasing entirely.

"Might want to hold your breath," I mutter, taking a sip of my wine.

I walk through the blood, which is slowly draining back into the closet, and move to sit on the couch, the bottle of wine in one hand and glass in the other.

Once the room is drained, and not a spot of blood staining anything but my shoes and skin, Pennywise pulls himself out of the closet. His clothes are red and stained, mouth dripping in blood.

He grins at me as I hold out James' abandoned wine glass to him, "Something to wash that down?"

The clown chuckles and takes a seat next to me, glass in hand. We click our glasses together and both down the contents.

"So, you're afraid of clowns?" the monster askes, licking his lips as he inspected the glass absentmindedly.

I laugh and grin at Pennywise, crossing my legs, "Not really. If I was, you would've eaten me a long time ago and I wouldn't be here to enjoy a glass of wine with an old friend."

"Are you going to tell me what you are afraid of?" The clown grinned.

"No," I answer, "That's a secret I'll take to the grave."