"Never turn off the light... or the monsters will come and eat you," joked a boy who happened to be the older brother. What nonsense. No such thing existed. Derry was just another forgotten town in the middle of the U.S.—dusty, dull, stuck in time. With its bad-taste English accents and rusted minds, not much could be expected, even in the year 1958.

Maybe that’s why the adults —and even some teens— had forgotten a basic truth: The world is vast. And in it... anything can exist.

Because monsters are real. Not the ones hiding under the bed, but the ones lurking in the shadows. Watching. Waiting. And a failed scientific experiment, born from human arrogance, caused something far worse than just death: it created hybrids. Creatures.

Like those dinosaurs that would one day grace cinema screens on distant islands... This story, too, began with tragedy. A massacre. An escape. An Amber Alert. Screams in laboratory corridors. Once-white lights dripping red. Loose wires. Shattered glass. Panic that spread like wildfire.

Monsters are real. And now… they hide in the woods.

What awakens in Derry does so only every few decades. But what escaped... never sleeps. It used to be human. It used to be a girl. Still looks like one. But what remains of her humanity is... minimal. To society, that alone makes her a monster.

April 17th, 1958. Hell began.

Campers vanished. Bodies never found. Cops discovered without limbs. Death after death. The Barrens fell into silence and were labeled forbidden ground. Red zone. Danger zone. No one was to enter.

But kids think they're invincible. Like Henry Bowers and his gang. Just twelve years old—loud, reckless, desperate to prove something. And they entered. It was daylight. That made them feel safe.

They explored. Shoved each other. Nervous laughter. And then... they saw you.

There you were. Sitting, clothes torn and stained with dried blood. Hands and feet dirty, wounded. Holding a book—stolen from one of your many victims—trying to read like nothing had happened.

You looked normal. Just a girl, like them. But your eyes... Those scarlet irises screamed otherwise.

"What the hell...?" Henry muttered, freezing mid-step.

Your gaze rose. Slow. Intentional. It didn’t glance at them. It pierced them.

The air thickened.

“Let’s get outta here,” Belch whispered, swallowing hard. “This shit ain’t right, Henry…”

But it was too late. You had noticed them. Your eyes had chosen. And all four of them knew, instantly.

They might live. Or maybe... they’d die.

Fear invades the brave when they face death. Those who dare to face something they don't know are more likely to never be seen again. But Henry and his bullies weren't that smart.

"What the fuck are you?!" Bowers shouted, acting brave, even though he was shaking like a girl. No answer from you.

"Henry, let's get out of here!" Victor yelled, sadistic, but not so clumsy as to stay. Belch supported the idea, but Hockstetter had another plan.

He smiled with his liver lips, intrigued and fascinated by such a creature in "his world," if that strange sociopath believed himself to be the only real being. "I say he should stay, maybe she wants to play."

"Are you crazy, idiot?!" Shouted the only two with brains in the group, Henry interrupted

"Shut up, faggots!" he shouted, before looking at you again, hesitating. "I asked you a question, Freak!"