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[Day 63 Survived]

[Achievements:]

[Achievement Unlocked: My Name is Yoshikage Kira]

Congratulations you've gained the notice of one of the few serial killers with the power to actually kill you. Good luck healing when your body is blown into smithereens.

[Rewards:]

[Intermediate Skill: Medicine]

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There were definitely better ways to wake up than to a glowing blue box floating in the middle of my vision telling me I had just made it onto the hit list of one of the most dangerous serial killers in all of fiction, but I would take the skill in medicine. 

Even now, as I lay there blinking the sleep out of my eyes while the notification faded away, the new knowledge settled into my brain like it had always belonged there. 

It felt like I suddenly had the training of a registered nurse, three full years of classes plus a year of residency all crammed in at once, everything from reading vitals to stitching wounds to knowing exactly which drugs did what in an emergency. It was not doctor-level god-mode, but it was still a hell of a lot more than I had yesterday.

"At least I have a backup plan if the music doesn't work out..." I muttered to myself as I pushed the covers off and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I had to get up and get ready, I had a lot to do today since I'd be at school next week. 

Since I discovered Kira was real and living in this town I had decided I needed to get myself ready in case of an encounter. That meant buying weapons, because I doubted a plain handgun would do much against a Stand like Killer Queen, though honestly I was just doing this to make myself feel better. If Kira came after me for real I probably did not stand a chance, not when the guy could turn anything he touched into a bomb that left no trace. Still, having a few extra tools in the trunk gave me the illusion of control, and in a world that kept throwing horror-movie bullshit at me I would take every illusion I could get.

I headed into the bathroom and turned the shower on hot enough to steam up the mirror. The water pounded down on my shoulders while I stood under the spray and let it beat some of the tension out of my muscles. I lathered up with the cedar-and-bourbon soap I had started keeping around, scrubbing the faint smell of last night's sweat off my skin, then rinsed off slowly. I shut the water off, stepped out onto the bath mat, and toweled myself dry. My reflection in the mirror looked more awake now, I ran a hand through my damp hair and decided it was good enough.

I got dressed in the bedroom after that,  grabbed the keys off the nightstand, and slipped the compact 9mm into the concealed holster at the small of my back just in case. I locked the front door behind me, walked down the porch steps, and climbed into the Mustang. The engine rumbled to life with that deep, satisfying growl I had tuned myself, and I backed out of the driveway. 

I pointed the car toward the highway that led out of town because Derry was kind of shit for the kind of weapons I wanted. The local gun shops carried the usual hunting rifles and shotguns, the kind of stuff good for deer or the occasional bear, but nothing right for dealing with a Stand like Killer Queen. 

From what I remembered of the series, Killer Queen could turn anything it touched into a bomb, and those bombs were instant, silent, and left almost nothing behind. That meant getting close would be suicide. 

One brush of Killer Queens hand and I would be red mist before I could even think about healing. I needed range. Something that could put distance between me and him. Sniper rifle, maybe, or at least a decent long-range setup with hollow points or armor-piercing rounds that might punch through whatever invisible bullshit protected him, if it was anything like Star Platinum though I was a little worried.

Ugh... I doubted any of the backwoods stores around here carried that kind of specialized gear without raising eyebrows, so I was heading toward the bigger city an hour away where they had a bigger inventory.

The Mustang ate up the streets while I kept an eye on the rearview and the other on the road ahead. Derry looked peaceful in the morning, kids on bikes, dogs barking behind fences, the kind of morning that made it easy to forget the town was basically a horror-movie buffet. I was halfway through the town when a beat-up pickup truck swerved out of a side alley and nearly slammed straight into my front fender. I slammed on the brakes hard, making my car stop inches from the truck's rear bumper.

"Fucking Christ!" I shouted, my heart hammering in my chest as I laid on the horn.

The truck doors flew open and Henry Bowers stepped out first, followed by his usual crew of hooligans, all of them looking pissed and wired. Henry's face twisted into a sneer when he recognized my car, but he didn't bother with me. Instead he and his boys took off running after a group of younger kids who had been riding their bikes along the sidewalk. The kids dropped their bikes and bolted into the trees at the edge of the forest, screaming as they disappeared into the thick underbrush.

I sat there gripping the wheel watching the whole thing unfold. Henry and his gang crashed into the woods after them, shouting insults and laughing like the psychos they were. 

I sighed and rubbed my face with both hands. "None of my business," I muttered to the empty car. "Not my problem. I've got my own serial killer to worry about. Let the Losers Club deal with their own shit."

I shifted into drive and started to pull away, but something twisted in my gut and I groaned out loud. "God damn it." I slammed the gear back into park, killed the engine, and stepped out into the street. "You're an idiot, James. A complete fucking idiot."

I locked the Mustang, tucked the keys into my pocket, and jogged across the street toward the tree line where the kids had vanished. My boots crunched over loose gravel and then gave way to dirt and fallen leaves as I crossed into the woods. Branches snagged at my sleeves and low-hanging limbs brushed the top of my head as I pushed deeper, following the distant sounds of shouting. 

"This is a bad idea, James. A really fucking bad idea. Everyone down there is bad news. Henry Bowers and his crew are the kind of assholes who carve their names into kids' stomachs for fun, and the kids they're chasing are the Losers' Club, which means Pennywise is probably already circling like a shark."

I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face while I kept jogging, because no matter how much I told myself to turn around and mind my own business, I couldn't. If I walked away now and those kids ended up floating in the sewers with their arms torn off, I would never stop seeing it every time I closed my eyes.

"Fuck it," I muttered, picking up my pace while the sounds of struggle grew ahead. "I'll just kick their asses, make sure the kids are okay, and get the hell out of here. In and out. Simple."

The trees thinned suddenly and I stepped out onto the bank of a small river. It was a beautiful place in Derry, but the scene in front of me was anything but beautiful. Henry Bowers stood knee-deep in the river with his hands wrapped around Bill Denbrough's head, forcing the kid's face under the water while Bill thrashed and kicked. 

One of Henry's friends had Mike locked in a brutal headlock, the bigger kid's arm squeezing tight enough that Mike's face was turning red while he clawed at the forearm pinning him. 

The other friend was going to town on the rest of them, kicking the Jewish kid square in the ribs while he curled up on the muddy bank, then turning to stomp on the OCD kid arm when he tried to crawl away, and finally swinging a boot into the glasses kids stomach hard enough to make him curl into a ball and wheeze for air. It was brutal, ugly, the kind of beating that looked like it would keep going until someone ended up in the hospital or worse.

Time to go to work. 

I came up behind the guy holding Mike first, and drove my fist hard into his liver, putting every ounce of power behind the punch so it landed with a solid, meaty thud right under his ribs. He dropped like a sack of stones, his legs buckling instantly while a strangled gasp tore out of his throat. Mike started to fall with him, but I caught his arm quickly and balanced him, pulling him upright before he could hit the mud. 

The second our skin touched, that familiar electric jolt slammed through me like a live wire, and I felt the spark of something new settle into my bones. His Shining. Whatever weak version of it he carried, it was mine now too. 

The other friend heard his buddy yell and spun around quickly. He swung at me with a sloppy haymaker aimed at my head, but I caught his fist in my palm, closed my fingers around it, and gave a quick jab straight to his sternum with my free hand. The impact drove the air out of him in a whoosh and before he could recover I hooked my leg behind his knee and threw my weight forward, sending him crashing down onto the bank with a heavy splash of mud and water. He landed hard on his back, gasping like a fish pulled from the river.

Henry had not noticed any of it yet. He was too busy shouting insults at Bill while he kept the kid's face underwater. "This is what you get, you stuttering little shit! You and your freak friends think you can run around town like you own the place? I'm gonna hold you under until you stop kicking, then I'll do the rest of your loser club one by one!"

I stepped into the river grabbed Henry by the back of his shirt, and yanked him off Bill in one motion. He flew backward with a surprised grunt, landing hard on the muddy bank while Bill came up coughing and choking, water streaming from his mouth and nose while he gasped for air. I dropped to one knee beside him patting his back hard with the flat of my hand, helping him get the water out while he retched and sputtered. "Easy, kid," I said. "Breathe. Just breathe. You're okay."

His friends started crawling over to him, muddy and bruised but alive. While Henry's two buddies were already scrambling up, groaning and clutching their sides, while Henry himself pushed to his feet with his face twisted in pure rage. His crew helped him stand, but he shoved them off and pointed straight at me, spit flying from his mouth. "This ain't none of your business, Mitchell!" he screamed. "These little shits had it coming! They think they can mouth off and get away with it? You stay out of it or you'll get the same!"

"Stop being an asshole and beating up children, Bowers. Walk away before you make it worse," I said with an irritated expression. 

"They started it! They always start it! They deserve every kick and every punch, and if you don't get the fuck out of my way right now you'll get it too, golden boy!" Henry shot back. 

I laughed right in his face. "Your threats don't scare actual adults, Henry. Now get your dumbass friends out of here and stop bothering these losers—" Richie started to protest with a quick "Hey!" but I kept going without missing a beat "—or I'll report you to the sheriff. Tell him exactly what I saw today. How does that sound?"

Henry froze at that, his face going pale. I walked closer until I was right in front of him and could see the fear flicker behind the rage in his eyes. "We both know your dad doesn't need a reason to beat the shit out of you. So I'd get going if I were you. Before I give him one."

That did it. Henry's face twisted with pure fury and he yanked a knife from his pocket, the blade flashing as he lunged straight at me. I moved without thinking catching his wrist mid-swing. I slapped the blade from his hand with my other palm, the knife spinning away until I kicked it up with my foot before it could hit the river, caught it in my hand, and pressed the point right against the soft skin under his jaw, just hard enough to dimple the flesh without breaking it.

Henry went dead still, eyes wide and breathing fast while the knife point pricked his skin. "Listen to me very carefully," I said leaning in so he could feel every word. "You ever come near me or these kids again and I won't just take the knife away. I'll shove it straight through your throat and watch you bleed out right here in the mud. Then I'll tell your dad you fell on it yourself because you're that fucking stupid. Nod if you understand."

He nodded quickly, the motion making the blade press harder, anf a tiny bead of blood welling up at the tip. His face had gone white and his jeans darkened at the crotch as he pissed himself right there in front of everyone, the wet stain spreading down his leg while his friends stared in shocked silence.

I slammed my fist into his stomach hard enough to double him over, then stepped back while he dropped to his knees gasping. "Get him out of here," I told his friends. "Now."

They moved quickly, grabbing Henry under the arms and hauling him up while he wheezed and clutched his gut. One of them muttered an apology as they dragged him away. "Sorry, man... no hard feelings, right?"

I ignored them completely. They took the hint and half-carried, half-dragged Henry back through the trees until the sounds of their footsteps faded into nothing.

Eddie and Richie were already picking up rocks from the riverbank, hurling them after the retreating gang with angry shouts. "Yeah! And stay the fuck away next time, you assholes!" Richie yelled. Eddie threw one more for good measure, muttering under his breath about how much he hated Bowers and how his arm was probably broken now and he likely had a parasite from the river.

Meanwhile Bill came up to me on shaky legs, still coughing the last of the river water from his lungs, Mike right beside him looking grateful and a little dazed. "Th-thanks," Bill said, while he wiped mud from his face. "Yo-You didn't have to do that. They could've really hurt us bad."

I shrugged, wiping my hands on my jeans. "Don't worry about it. Henry's an asshole and no one really likes him anyway."

Eddie and Richie came over fast, both talking over each other in a rush of words. "That was insane!" Richie blurted while fixing his crooked glasses. "You just walked up and dropped those guys like it was nothing! One punch and boom, down! Then you caught and threw the other one like a pro wrestler! Where the hell did you learn moves like that? You some kind of secret ninja or what? That was the coolest thing I've ever seen!"

Eddie nodded, holding his arm like it hurt. "Yeah, it was like you knew exactly where to hit them! I read about that in my medical books. You probably ruptured something internal. They're gonna be peeing blood for a week!"

I rolled my eyes and started brushing dirt off my jacket. "Yeah yeah, it was real fun. Anyway, I'm kinda busy, so I'm gonna head out."

They all tried to stop me, stepping in front of me with desperate looks on their faces. "Wait!" Bill said. "We n-need your help. Please. Our friend Beverly got stuck down in the sewer while we were exploring and we were cycling to get help when we ran into Bowers. We can't get her out by ourselves."

My eyes widened and I grabbed Bill's arm without thinking. "Why the hell would you leave her alone in the sewer?"

Bill winced but did not pull away. "I didn't want to! But we needed help and Ben said he'd stay with her. He'll keep her safe until we get back."

I sighed, rubbing my face with my free hand. "Sure that's a whole lot better. Come on."

I started walking toward the nearest sewer drain I could see through the trees while the kids fell in behind me. While we walked I glanced back at them. "Why the hell were you going around sewer drains anyway?" I knew Bill went down there looking for Georgie but I wanted to get a better idea of the timeline they were in and how far the movie was before the end. 

They all looked at each other, shifting uncomfortably, eyes darting like they were trying to decide how much to say. Bill finally spoke up. "We... we got curious. Wanted to explore it. That's all."

I sighed again and muttered under my breath, "Alright, don't tell me. Fine."

We reached the sewer drain a few minutes later. I stopped at the edge and turned to face them all. "Stay here. All of you. I'll get your friends out."

Bill, Mike, and Richie immediately started protesting, voices overlapping in a rush. "But Beverly's our friend!" Bill said, eyes wide. "We can't just wait out here!"

"Yeah, we know the tunnels better than you!" Richie added, pushing his glasses up his nose. "We can help!"

Mike nodded, looking determined. "We're not leaving her down there alone any longer than we have to."

The others looked less sure, Eddie clutching his arm and muttering about how sewers were full of bacteria and Stan staying quiet but clearly uneasy.

I held up a hand. "I'm an adult and you're children. The sewers are very dangerous and I don't need you getting lost or hurt worse than you already are. I'm going in alone. End of discussion."

They argued a little more but eventually fell quiet, shifting their weight and looking unhappy while they nodded. I turned to Eddie. "Flashlight?"

He handed me the one he had been carrying. I clicked it on, checked the batteries, then pulled the compact 9mm from the holster at my back, and I racked the slide with a click.

Richie's eyes went huge behind his glasses. "Why the fuck do you have a gun?"

I snorted and tucked the pistol back into the holster for now, keeping it ready. "I already said the sewers are dangerous. Now stay out here and stay quiet."

I stepped into the tunnel without waiting for more arguments. I moved forward with my gun in one hand and light in the other, ready to get my ass torn apart by the psycho clown that was 100% waiting for me in these tunnels. 

Fuck me...

(AN: Things are never simple and now James is down in the sewer tunnels going to rescue someone as per usual. Though he did get a new ability from Mike. Tbf I know it's a theory that the losers club all had the Shine, but I think it's cool. Anyway hope you enjoyed.)

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Comments

Dragonslayer29

Thanks for the chap and also glad he beat the crap out of Henry.

Sin Vergil

Doubts a gun will do much against Kira, remembers Bug-Eaten (This is a joke btw). Considering he's got (Advanced: CQC) I cannot get the image of Big Boss coming in and just laying these kids out lol.