As Sharon started crying, James and Ash exchanged a quick glance, sensing the weight of her grief. But before either could say anything, they heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Both turned to see a group of kids filing into the living room. At the front was Bill, George's older brother. His face tightened when he saw his mother crying, and he rushed over to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Mom," Bill said softly, his voice tinged with worry. "Are you okay?"
Sharon wiped her tears and tried to regain her composure. "I'm fine, sweetheart," she said, though her voice still wavered.
Among the group of kids, James and Ash recognized someone—Ben, the boy they had met earlier by the bridge. Ben stepped forward, eyeing the two men with curiosity. "You guys FBI?" he asked, his tone hesitant but steady.
Ash leaned back slightly and raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, kid. And you should know, nosy doesn't look good on anyone," he said, smirking but adding a subtle edge to his words.
Before Ben could answer, heavy footsteps sounded in the doorway. It was George and Bill's father. His face was lined with frustration, his eyes narrowing as they landed on James and Ash. When he saw his wife's tear-streaked face, his expression darkened.
"What's going on here?" he barked, his tone sharp. Stepping further into the room, he glared at the two agents. "Why is she crying? Who are you people?"
James stood, raising his fake FBI badge in a calming gesture. "Mr. Denbrough, we're agents with the FBI. We're here to ask a few questions about George. We're just trying to help."
"Help?" Mr. Denbrough's voice rose. "We've already answered every question the police and FBI could throw at us. What more do you people want?"
"Sir," Ash interjected, his tone even but firm, "we get it—this is tough. But sometimes, one small detail is all it takes to make a difference. We're just being thorough."
"Thorough?" Mr. Denbrough snapped. "Do you think we've been sitting on our hands, not wanting answers? We've done everything—everything we can. And now you're upsetting my wife!"
Sharon reached out, her hand resting lightly on her husband's arm. "It's okay," she said quietly, her voice shaky. "They're just doing their job."
Mr. Denbrough wasn't having it. He pointed toward the door. "I think you've done enough. Time for you to go."
James and Ash exchanged a look, silently agreeing it was time to leave. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Denbrough," James said, his voice calm. "If you remember anything, don't hesitate to reach out."
Ash swung his bag over his shoulder, and the two of them headed for the door. The cool evening air hit them as they stepped outside. They walked in silence to their car. James started the engine but didn't pull away immediately.
"Well, that went about as smooth as a square peg in a round hole," James muttered, gripping the steering wheel.
Ash sighed, flipping open his laptop. "Yeah, but I can't blame them. Grief's a hell of a thing. We'll have to figure out another angle."
Before James could reply, a flurry of footsteps caught their attention. They looked up to see Bill and the group of kids running toward the car. Ben reached the driver's side first and knocked on the window. James rolled it down, raising an eyebrow.
Bill hesitated, his pale face resolute. "L-look," he stammered, glancing nervously at the house. "I c-can't say much here. Meet us at the B-Barrens. Tonight. Midnight."
James and Ash exchanged a glance, but before they could respond, Bill stepped back, motioning for the other kids to follow him. Ben lingered for a moment as though wanting to add something but eventually turned and ran after the others.
Ash leaned back in his seat, shaking his head. "The Barrens? Seriously? What is this, an after-school special?"
They had come across this place while on their short tour of the town.
James let out a dry chuckle. "If it is, I didn't get the memo. Still, it's our only lead. We check it out."
Later that night, they parked at the edge of the Barrens. The forest ahead was dark, the tall trees casting long shadows under the moonlight. James killed the headlights and stepped out into the cool, quiet night. The faint rustle of leaves and distant frog croaks filled the air.
Ash scanned the woods, his hand instinctively resting near his concealed weapon. "I don't like this. Feels like the opening scene of a slasher movie."
"Relax," James said, though his own unease showed. "We're here to talk to kids, not fight Jason Voorhees."
They followed a narrow path, flashlights cutting through the darkness. After a short walk, they came to a clearing with a small, ramshackle clubhouse in the center. A faint glow seeped through its windows.
James knocked lightly on the door. It opened just enough for Ben's face to appear. He looked nervous but stepped aside to let them in. The room was cramped and damp, the mismatched wooden planks creaking underfoot. Around a makeshift table sat the kids, their faces pale with fear but set with some sort of resolve.
Bill cleared his throat, his stutter less pronounced. "W-we don't have much time. If our parents find out, we're dead."
Ash leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. "Then why bring us out here? You've got to give us something to work with, or we're wasting our time."
Bill glanced nervously at his friends before addressing James and Ash, his stutter more pronounced now. "Y-you won't b-believe us," he began, his hands gripping the edge of the table.
Eddie, seated next to him, straightened up, his face pale but his voice steady. "I know it sounds crazy, but please, just listen to us." He glanced between the two men, pleading with his eyes.
The tension in the room was thick, but neither James nor Ash interrupted. They could see the kids were scared, and despite the bizarre tone of the conversation, they decided to let them speak.
Bill took a deep breath, forcing himself to continue. "I-it's a clown. A c-creepy one. W-we've seen it. W-we know it's real." His voice cracked, but he pushed through the words.
Bill gripped the edge of the table, his hands trembling. "I… I saw him in the basement," he began, his voice shaky. "I was looking for something, and the water—it was everywhere. Then I saw Georgie's yellow raincoat." His voice broke when he said his brother's name. "I thought it was him… but it wasn't. It was the clown. He had Georgie's boat and was smiling at me with these creepy teeth. He called my name, and the water kept rising. I… I got out of there so fast I thought my heart would explode."
The room was quiet for a moment, the weight of Bill's words hanging in the air. Eddie spoke next, gripping his inhaler tightly as if it might give him the courage to talk. "It happened near the pharmacy," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I saw this leper—like, a guy whose skin was falling off. He started chasing me, and I freaked out. I ran as fast as I could, but then… he changed. He wasn't the leper anymore. He was the clown. He had balloons and was laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. He reached for me, and I swear I thought he was going to grab me. I thought I was toast."
Richie let out a nervous laugh, trying to act casual but failing miserably. "Mine was in the library," he said, adjusting his glasses. "I was bored and looking for something to read—yeah, I know, nerd alert—but then I found this old photo album. The pictures started moving, like, Harry Potter style but way creepier. It showed these kids, and then I saw him. The clown. He just popped out of the photo like some freaky pop-up book, grinning at me with those messed-up teeth. I got the heck out of there. Didn't even stop to pretend I wasn't scared."
Stanley sat stiffly, his pale face betraying his fear. "It happened during my bar mitzvah rehearsal," he said quietly. "I stayed late to practice because, you know, Rabbi Greenstein wasn't gonna let me wing it." He paused, swallowing hard. "There's this painting in the room, this weird one with a woman whose face is all wrong. I've always hated it. Then one day… she wasn't in the painting anymore. She was standing right there in front of me. She turned into the clown. He whispered something about me never finishing my bar mitzvah. I ran out of there so fast I left my prayer book behind."
James leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening as he processed their words. Ash, leaning against the wall, crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "So, let me get this straight," Ash said. "You all saw the same clown, and he tried to scare the daylights out of you?"
Bill took a deep breath, his voice shaking as he began. "I... I first thought it was just a hallucination," he stuttered, his hands trembling as he gripped the edge of the table. "But how can five people see the same freaking thing?" He glanced around at his friends, each of them nodding grimly, confirming his words.
James and Ash exchanged a look, the weight of the situation deepening. It was clear that these kids weren't just spinning some wild story.
Ben, sitting off to the side, looked at Bill and then at James and Ash, his expression a mix of fear and hesitation. After a long pause, he spoke up. "I didn't see it before," he admitted, his voice low. "But after you guys left the library... I saw it. In the basement of the library."
The room went still, every eye in the room trained on Ben as the others leaned in, clearly hanging on his every word.
"I was down there, looking for a book my mom needed," Ben continued, swallowing hard. "At first, I thought it was just a shadow, but then I saw it more clearly. The clown... He was standing in the corner of the room, grinning at me like he was waiting for me to notice him. I tried to run, but it was like I was frozen. The air felt thick, and I couldn't breathe. And then... he started coming closer, and I swear, he spoke. Said my name like he knew everything about me." Ben's voice cracked, his fear evident. "I just ran. I didn't stop until I was outside."
The tension in the room was palpable. The other kids sat still, waiting for James and Ash's response.
James exchanged a look with Ash, their shared unease apparent. He could see the fear in the kids' eyes, but there was also something else: truth.
James finally broke the silence. "We believe you, kids," he said, his voice steady, locking eyes with each of them. "We've seen that creepy-ass clown too."
Ash sighed, shaking his head as he leaned against the wall. "Yeah, whatever this thing is, it's not just in your heads."
The kids looked at each other, a flicker of relief washing over their faces. They weren't alone anymore and at least someone believed them.
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