Horror Fan Fiction ❯ IT Returns... ❯ Prolonge ( Prologue )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

IT Returns....

Disclaimer: I don't own IT...Stephen King owns it. I only own my characters...exept for my friends ^^;

Ch. 1

"La la la la..." the little six-year-old sang, skipping merrily down the sidewalk. "Psst! Linda!" a voice called.
Linda looked around. "Who's there?" she asked. She then turned to see a clown and smiled. "Hello mister clown," she
said," what's your name?" The clown smiled. "I'm Pennywise. Pennywise the Dancing Clown," he answered. Linda
noticed that he wore a silvery clown suit with orange pom-pom buttons. He also wore red clown shoes and in his left
hand he had... "Balloons!" she squealed with glee. Pennywise grinned and said," Would you like one? They float...They
all float." Linda nodded ethusiastically. "Yes please!" Pennywise's grin widened. "And soon...you'll float too!" he yelled, his
skin turning rotten, a fishy smell coming from him. He smelled of fish that have been left in the sun too long. His face turned
cruel and jagged fangs formed from his yellowing teeth. Linda screamed piercingly as he grabbed her neck. She screamed
louder until a sickening ripping sound started to come from her neck and she knew no more.

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Vera threw down the paper, taking a shuddering breath. Heather looked at her curiously then picked up the
newspaper, starting to read it:

Six-year-old found dead...Copy-cat
Killer suspected.

Earlier today, six-year-old Linda Dawson
was found dead near the woods. Her head
had been ripped from her body and was
found in a neighboring tree. It is suspected
that a copy-cat killer is on the loose trying to
copy the one who killed George Denbrough,
the six-year-old that had is arm ripped off
10 years ago. There is more to this case to come...

Heather shivered, throwing the paper back down. Her mom looked at her. Heather looked back at her. "Please be careful
Heathe..." Vera begged. Heather nodded. "I will." she promised, walking out of her house and headed towards her friend,
Marissa's, house.

Heather knocked on the door and Mrs. Jackie answered. "Why hello there Heather," she greeted in her Jamacian
accent. Heather smiled. "Is Marissa home?" she asked. Mrs. Jackie smiled back and answered," Yes. She's in her room with
the other's. Go on. Their waiting for you." She stood aside as Heather stepped into the house. "Thank you," She said, heading
for Marissa's room.