This counts as a Halloween story if you squint.
It: Face the Face
The girl in blue fled across the woods, and Pennywise the Dancing Clown followed.
He was gaining on her, which wasn't unexpected on account of his supernatural powers. She was fast, but that only made his appetite grow stronger. You didn't flee with the kind of speed she was showing without holding onto some serious fear. Pennywise didn't even bother honing in on her fear - he wanted to surprise himself, let him feel the onrush of terror like it was an overturned spice cabinet.
Oh, it will be glorious - lip-smackin', finger lickin' glorious.
Pouncing out of the underbrush and screeching the cry of an animal he had just made up, he watched as the girl tripped, struggled to get up, then crawled to the nearest tree. She gripped the bark and pulled herself up - slowly, preparing to turn around and face the thing that was chasing her (or, at least, that's what it looked like to Pennywise). Now was the time, the Clown told himself - he let the girl's fear gush over him and felt his skin morph to it's character. Deep in the bowels of his being, he felt the Deadlights growl with their primordial hunger.
Pennywise took two steps and snarled, his hand outstretched...
...and then he stopped. Abruptly. His arm was the same tanned shade as the girl's skin, and he was wearing an identical blue jacket. He hadn't bothered to check what he was morphing into, and when the girl had turned fully around to face him, Pennywise was still trying to figure out what in the holy fuck was going on.
Then it hit him. He stared into the girls face - the face he shared with her - and watched as her eyes returned his look with the kind of impassiveness you'd find in a 90 year old who was mad they hadn't died in their sleep.
"Oh," Pennywise said.
"Yeah," said the girl.
"I - oh..."
"This is...this is the saddest thing I've ever seen."
"Welcome to my nightmare," the girl said.
"The Turtle can't help you," the girl said.
"You...Christ! I think I actually feel sad inside!"
"Same," said the girl.
With that, Pennywise turned to leave. A voice rang out before he could.
"No you don't, Megatron."
"What?" said Pennywise.
"You're not going anywhere."
Pennywise blinked. "I...I beg your pardon?"
"You're staying here."
"No," said Pennywise.
"No!" said Pennywise.
"End my suffering you fucking mashed potato. I'm ready."
"I'm leaving," said Pennywise. He meant it this time - he was starting to feel like he had anxiety.
"Coward," said the girl.
"Just leave me alone."
And with that, Pennywise took to his heels. He shifted back into his clown form and ignored the last bit of mumbling from the girl he had chased. His appetite was gone - completely gone - and the previously growling Deadlights were instead giving off a very strong vibe; a What the hell was that and how do we avoid it? sort of vibe.
Pennywise wandered back into Derry, and as he felt like his eyes were glossed over, he didn't notice all seven members of the Loser's Club nearly crash their bikes into him as he crossed a street. He took one look at the disheveled pile of children, felt nothing, and continued to shuffle on his way. Their concussion slowly fading, the Loser's Club noticed, and they too began to have a strong What in the hell was that? vibe course through them.
Richie, being the idiot of the group, decided to venture for an explanation.
"U-um...P-pennywise?" he asked. The clown slowly turned.
"A-aren't y-you going t-to...I d-don't know, e-eat u-us-s?"
The blank stare they received in response would haunt their dreams for 4 or 5 nights (they would accidentally watch The Thing on day 6, replacing any notion of clowns in their collective nightmares).
"I...no," Pennywise said, scratching at some stubble that he didn't have. "I just...I just wanna take a nap, all right?"
And nap he did, in the sewers of Derry, with a permanent frown on his face. For, the moment prior to him reaching the sweet release of unconsciousness he realized, consuming children in various supernatural forms just wasn't going to be the same anymore.
What's happening to these kids? he thought, just as blackness began to take him. I mean...holy hell, are they all right?
This dumb story was brought to you by one of my friends (my oh so innocent friends) asking me what form Pennywise would take if he was trying to kill me.
I impulsively said: "Me"
I only have like three friends and that's 150% of the reason why.