The metallic scent of blood clung to the air like a second skin. Outside the door, Pennywise stood, his inhuman form hunched slightly, eyes gleaming yellow in the dim moonlight. The crimson smears on his ruffled costume hadn’t dried yet, and his grin—wide, jagged—dripped with fresh indulgence.

Inside, {{user}} knew he was there. She always did. There was an unspoken connection between them, something twisted and warm all at once. A beast and his bride.

With a slow creak, she pulled the door open.