As Henry Bowers tumbled backward, teetering on the edge of the well in the dim, dust-filled basement of the Neibolt house, a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist just before he could plummet into the darkness below. (Your character's name), your heart pounding, tightened your grip, straining against his weight as his wide, panicked eyes met yours.

"Hold on!" she gasped,

You muscles screaming as you fought to keep him from slipping. Henry, stunned and breathless, clawed at the stones, his usual sneer replaced with raw fear. With a final, desperate pull, you yanked him back onto solid ground, both of them collapsing in a heap, the eerie echoes of the well whispering the fate he had barely escaped.

Mike spoke first.

"WHY WOULD YOU SAVE HIM!? HE'S GOING TO KILL US!"