Disclaimer: I am not associated with Stephen King, so henceforth, I cannot own anything related to IT. I merely own my Original Character.

I feel as if though I must apologize for not having updated in the past month, and though I feel rather iffy about this chapter, I hope that it will be enough to satiate some of you guys.

Thank you for all the constant support you all have given me, so please let me know what you think of this chapter.


Chapter Two: Common Ground

X. "Mine..." This possession. It was strange— X.


It permeated the air in a thick cloud of despair—the potent aroma of fear filling his lungs with each breath he took; a mouthwatering taste to satiate the prowling beast within him. Please, they would always beg. Such manners; death would have been pleased, should he have been the executioner.

Grinning in absolute glee, malicious intentions lingering between the shadows, IT could no longer evade the inevitable. "Hush," he murmured in a soft, soothing tone, saliva drooling from his mouth as he did so, "—it will all be over soon." Pitiful whimpers and ignorant pleas fell from the lips of the little boy, unfortunate to have found himself within the radar of a prowling predator, and IT could feel his jaws ache in protest.

For as he devoured all that remained of the trembling form in his arms, his thoughts strayed once more towards his little lamb. Perhaps I should pay her dreams another visit, he thought idly to himself, having remembered their last encounter; more specifically the blood promise the two had made.

It made him grin at the irony behind it, had his little lamb known that she was merely signing her soul away to the devil with a smile. "Now you can float too," he whispered in glee, fingers unclamping from their tight hold upon the lifeless form and stepped back, admiring the process from afar.

Up, up, and away.

Hunger briefly sated, the darkness surrounding him nothing but a comforting blanket. For like an approaching storm, panic and terror had settled across the town of Derry like a plague threatening to devour all in sight—for he was Death, and there was no escape.

Time to play, little lamb.

Like a wolf descending upon the unfortunate, it didn't take long for him to materialize within her mind—her dreams plagued with ponies, balloons, and the familiar tune of a carousel playing in the background; all begging to be corrupted.

But he was reminded of her innocence, true innocence, at the feeble whimper tumbling from her lips—for the surroundings of her dreams were quick to change to that of a memory he often found himself reminiscing.

It had been an odd encounter, one that he had constantly replayed through his mind. She was nothing but an intended snack, something to distract him from the main goal—and he had been floored to discover that perhaps true innocence did exist.

For she had merely stared back at him with unabashed curiosity and awe; something he had never encountered before. "Are you from the circus?" She had questioned, thumbnail caught between teeth, and legs swinging to and fro from the wooden swing she currently occupied.

He had answered her as truthfully as he could, the manipulative lies nothing but sweet nectar falling from his tongue. "You don't look like a funny clown," she had murmured upon gazing at his face, eyebrows scrunched and concentration obvious signs on her chubby face. "But momma always says to never judge a book by its cover."

If he was being honest with himself, he would have admitted to the fact that he found himself fascinated at the sudden turn of events he found himself fortunate to land within.

For a young child, he could easily tell that she was wiser than most children her age; an oddity amongst citizens whom demanded normality or else face the consequences.

His thoughts, if not consumed with the constant presence of hunger, destruction, and a powerful need to strike fear into every living being, often found themselves straying towards the little oddity he had taken a liking at calling his little lamb.

For she was that of a little lamb; constantly in need of attention, though naïve to the outside world. It was as the phrase said, he was a wolf in sheep's clothing—luring and tempting, he prowled, hunted, and laid in wait; patiently for the right time to strike.

His fingers, mindful of the sharpness of his nails, threaded through her hair, his actions not that surprising, as he found himself comforted alone in her presence to allow himself such a brief moment of solace.

Tranquility.

Had someone, at the right moment before death descended to take their soul, told him that he'd find himself at the mercy of such an impudent little thing, he would have cackled madly before ending their life in the most slowest, painful ways imaginable; and yet here he was.

What are you doing to me, you naïve, little lamb? It was a question that constantly played through an endless loop within his mind, and yet the answer remained undeterred in its path to reveal itself to him.

Mine.

The strange flash of possession flashing through him at that precise moment, from the frown forming on her angelic, peaceful façade, he knew that it ran deeper than possible. Mine.

Despite the constant hunger, the need to consume her, he knew that he would and could never harm a hair on her head—for the person who dared to touch her, would face the consequences and not live to tell the tale.

Mine.

Common ground had been achieved at that moment; for he was hers, just as much as she was his.


Author Note: Right, I'm not sure how to feel about this chapter, but perhaps I'm the only one that thinks that. I just want to thank you all once more for the constant report; and I cannot wait to hear what you guys think of this chapter.

Much love,

Elizabeth Stryder.