The sun slowly sank below the horizon. Although summer was already on the doorstep, for some reason in Derry it set too early, as if the city itself was in a hurry to plunge into darkness. Alex and his entire group were in the RV — having dinner and trying to catch their breath after everything that had happened that day.

Dean and Sam, having been in the sewers, had faced things that couldn’t just be erased from memory. But those who stayed above ground weren’t spared from Pennywise’s influence either. The girls had seen firsthand how the city was slowly drowning in his presence — the dark, viscous atmosphere pressed on the mind, turning ordinary people into almost possessed.

At the table, there was an unusual silence. Enid was the quietest, which didn’t surprise anyone. Of all the girls, aside from Wednesday, she was the one who had seen Pennywise… and what he had done. Lucina, Alice, and Samantha tried to help her compose herself, speaking softly and carefully, as if afraid to disturb something fragile inside her.

Sam didn’t look his best either. From time to time, he seemed to sink into his own thoughts and absentmindedly pressed his thumb against his palm — an old reflex, an attempt to push away intrusive images. Alex noticed this.

“It’s time,” a thought flashed through his mind.

He had long planned to implement a method to strengthen Sam. And not long ago, he had finished something that was supposed to help. After a while, Castiel returned. He met Alex’s gaze and gave a barely noticeable nod — everything was ready. Done in a way that Chuck wouldn’t notice.

Alex responded with the same brief nod. Of course, Castiel once again had to show his acting skills, explaining where he had been all that time. About an hour later, one of the operatives approached the RV.

He reported that the mission supervisor, Graham Wright, had issued an order to evacuate people from several blocks around the haunted house — the very one that led to Pennywise’s lair.

The evacuation went surprisingly smoothly. For half a day, Bureau of Control operatives had been posing as workers supposedly fixing sewer issues across the city. They spread rumors that gas was leaking into the tunnels and that a collapse could happen at any moment.

People left almost without resistance. Except for a couple of stubborn ones who thought they were the smartest and refused to leave their homes. After hearing the report, Alex nodded. About an hour — that’s all the time he had left to prepare before the area would be completely cleared of civilians.

He remembered that in the original timeline, after the Clown’s death, the city was supposed to suffer a catastrophe. But he wasn’t sure if it would happen again now or if it would be limited to the lair collapsing. His thoughts, however, didn’t linger long.

The spatial field stabilizers installed in Derry had done their job. They literally drew Pennywise’s influence into a single point — the place where the cursed house stood and the entrance to his lair was located. The city wouldn’t fall. Unless he himself tore it apart while fighting the Clown. Realizing this, Alex exhaled with relief.

“Looks like it’s time to go after the clown,” Dean said, looking at Alex.

He was tapping his finger thoughtfully on the table.

“Hm… yeah. Probably time. But first, I need to give you something,” Alex said, nodding.

Everyone looked at him expectantly. Alex rummaged through his inventory and, moments later, pulled out a jacket, tossing it to Dean.

Dean caught it deftly and immediately began inspecting it. The jacket was his style — dark gray, comfortable, like it was tailor-made. The only difference was the symbols on the shoulders. On one side — a sword and shield. On the other — a mark that Dean didn’t recognize.

It was the Slayer’s mark. Alex believed Dean deserved it. After all, he himself had a jacket with the same symbol. While Dean inspected his new jacket, Alex pulled out a bracelet and handed it to Sam.

At first glance, it looked like an ordinary black bracelet. But if you looked closely, you could see runes etched into it. It had been made from the grace of Michael from this universe — the same one Alex had once stolen.

The principle was simple: the bracelet gradually strengthened Sam’s body, just as Dean’s body was enhanced by Amara’s blessing. Sam took the bracelet and ran his fingers over it, feeling the cold lines of the runes.

“So you’re giving us a wardrobe upgrade, huh?” Dean smirked as he put on the jacket. “I thought it’d be something more useful. Though I won’t say no to a new jacket. But what do the symbols mean?”

“You’ll understand what they mean one day. For now, just wear it,” Alex replied with a slight smile. “Oh, and it has cleansing magic. Get it dirty — it cleans itself.”

“So no washing?” Dean chuckled. “That’s already a huge plus.”

He adjusted the jacket, feeling that it fit perfectly.

“And what’s this bracelet for?” Sam asked, not letting it go from his hands.

Alex paused for a moment, choosing his words carefully.

“For protection. More precisely… Dean is protected by Amara’s power. Lucina, Alice, Samantha, Enid, and Wednesday — by mine. That leaves only you. This bracelet will protect you if you see the true essence of something a human isn’t meant to see.”

He spoke calmly, carefully choosing each phrase so that the lie sounded believable.

“So if Sam looks at Cass’s true form, it won’t burn his eyes out?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Something like that. And if Pennywise decides to show Sam his real form, his brain won’t turn to mush,” Alex replied, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

“And what kind of form does he have that turns brains to mush?” Enid asked, intrigued.

“The Dead Lights,” Alex said, scanning everyone present. “That’s his true essence. I don’t know how to explain it properly…”

He paused.

“You need to see it. Any words will only be a pale shadow of what it really is.”

After Alex spoke, Enid looked at him with a gaze that silently asked — does she really have to go back into the sewers? Lucina, Samantha, and Alice also showed no desire to go any further. They clearly understood that Alex didn’t need help down there.

Wednesday, on the other hand, looked thoughtful — the idea of dissecting Pennywise and collecting as much material as possible for her book still ran through her mind. Noticing the girls’ glances, Alex shook his head and pointed at himself, Dean, and Sam, making it clear that the clown was their responsibility.

Enid exhaled in relief and smiled broadly. The prospect of smelling sewers again didn’t please her at all. Alex just smirked and shifted his gaze to GIR, MIMI, and Stitch. They were the ones who would act as guides and lead them to Pennywise’s lair.

Catching Alex’s eye, GIR jumped off the couch, then onto the table, and began rummaging through his little bag. A moment later, he pulled out a map with the route to the lair clearly marked. And most importantly — he made it clear he had no intention of going back into the sewer. Alex’s eye twitched at that.

He silently took the map from GIR and nodded. Unfolding it, Alex immediately realized — the route was convoluted and clearly not meant for ordinary people. He spread the map on the table so everyone could see it. And before anyone could ask a question, there was a knock on the RV door again. Alex got up and opened it. On the doorstep stood Madson.

“The evacuation is complete,” he reported.

Alex nodded and gestured for Dean and Sam to follow him. Leaving the RV behind, the three of them headed toward the cursed house. Alex didn’t know whether the members of the Losers’ Club had managed to get inside, given everything happening around the area, or if they had been stopped earlier.

Approaching the checkpoint set up around the house, they ran into Graham Wright. Alex gave the man a nod. After exchanging a few words, the trio passed through the checkpoint and stopped by a rusted gate.

The old abandoned house loomed before them like a rotten tooth. A cold, sticky fear seeped from it, soaking into every plank, every nail.

While Alex, Dean, and Sam stood facing the house, the Bureau of Control operatives—and Graham Wright himself—remained back at the checkpoint. No one objected to the three of them handling the Clown on their own.

Footage of Alex’s fight with Jesse in the testing chamber had long since spread among the agents. Rumors about how Dean had fought a creature possessed by darkness only reinforced his reputation as a dangerous man.

And the stories about the Winchester brothers—about how many creatures they had destroyed, and what kind—spoke for themselves.

Alex kept staring at the house… and suddenly realized he had missed something. He hadn’t given Sam a weapon that could truly help. Alex pulled out the Colt and handed it to Sam.

Sam raised an eyebrow, then took the pistol and the ammunition. Now he had not only conventional weapons, but the legendary Colt as well. Alex gripped a sledgehammer in his hands. Dean held the Mark of Cain blade. Now Sam was ready too.

“So, kids,” Dean smirked, kicking the gate with his boot, “ready to take out that damn clown?”

The gate crashed to the ground with a loud clang.

“You bet,” Alex snorted. “I promised I’d break his legs with a sledgehammer. And I always keep my word.”

He swung the sledgehammer over his shoulder and stepped forward.

“Never thought I’d end up killing a clown with this Colt,” Sam said as he followed. “But there’s a first time for everything.”

They climbed onto the porch. Every step made the old boards creak in protest. Alex tightened his grip on the sledgehammer and smashed the door, ripping it off its hinges. He knew Pennywise loved playing with doors—slamming them shut, separating his victims.

He wasn’t going to allow that.

The door flew into the house with a crash. Dean was the first to step inside, gripping the Mark of Cain blade and carefully scanning the room. Sam followed, Colt ready, already aiming from the doorway.

Alex entered last and waved to the operatives, signaling that they were inside. The last thing he saw before disappearing into the house was a brief nod from Graham Wright.

Inside, the house greeted them with the stale stench of rot. That was hardly surprising—the lair of Pennywise lay directly beneath it.

Alex didn’t waste time opening doors anymore. He simply smashed each one with the sledgehammer, denying the Clown any chance to play his tricks. Room by room, he moved forward, carefully searching for any sign that the Losers’ Club had been here.

The only evidence of anyone’s presence were faint footprints on the floor and shattered glass. The final room was the kitchen. Here, the traces were far more obvious. Someone from the Club had managed to get inside after all, despite the checkpoint.

“This is probably the dirtiest damn haunted house we’ve ever been in,” Dean grimaced. “Cobwebs, dust, and that smell…”

“It’s coming from the basement,” Sam said, checking the map and shining a flashlight over it. “If this route is right, the entrance is down there.”

Alex smirked and stepped toward the door leading downstairs.

“Basement it is. Step aside,” he said, shifting his grip on the sledgehammer. “I’m about to knock this door down.”

Alex approached the door with a wide grin, clearly intending to smash it down. The sensation of the sledgehammer hitting a barrier was almost pleasurable for him—the dull crack of wood, the vibration in his hands, the split second before destruction. He had already raised the sledgehammer, ready to bring down the door leading to the basement, when something from the other side slammed into it with force.

Alex froze, raising an eyebrow in surprise, while Dean and Sam instinctively gripped their weapons, bracing for whatever might burst out. In the next instant, the door swung open with such fury that the heavy panel slammed into Alex’s face, throwing him off balance for a moment. He felt no pain—only a brief, almost genuine surprise.

Before Dean and Sam stood a creature that most resembled a grotesque old woman with unnaturally long limbs and a face twisted as if broken. Her skin hung in folds, her movements were jerky and wrong, and the most revolting thing was that she was completely naked, as if reality itself mocked her.

The creature stretched her lips into a mad grin and rasped,

“I was Daddy’s little girl. And you… you’re bad… bad children must be punished.”

“Go to hell. Your father abandoned you because you were ugly,” Dean snapped, gripping the Mark of Cain blade.

He lunged forward, swinging the blade, but the old woman was faster. With a single sharp strike of her arm, she sent him flying like a ragdoll. Dean sailed across the entire kitchen and crashed into the wall with a thunderous impact, breaking through and landing in the next room. At the point of impact, there was a hole through the wall, plaster crumbling and splinters jutting out.

Sam whipped around toward where his brother had vanished.

“Dean!” he shouted, seeing him literally smash through the wall.

That moment was all the creature needed. She instantly pounced on Sam, knocking him to the floor. He didn’t even have time to react—the heavy, cold body pinned him down, long bony fingers locking his arms and legs, while the twisted face with a gaping maw reached for his own.

Sam strained with all his might, trying to push her off, but the strength was unequal. Saliva dripped from her mouth onto his face as he desperately twisted, trying not to let her bite him. Struggling to move his hand, Sam managed to angle the Colt’s barrel into the side of the creature and pulled the trigger.

The gunshot thundered in the enclosed kitchen, and the bullet sank into the old woman, who shrieked and jerked in pain.

At that moment, Alex fully snapped back into action. Shoving the door aside, he saw the old woman literally straddling Sam. Without hesitation, Alex lunged forward, grabbed her by the leg, and yanked her off him with force.

Sam rolled aside, gasping, and got back to his feet while Alex, still holding her leg, swung and flung her across the kitchen. Her body slammed into the same wall Dean had recently smashed through, but instead of breaking it, the creature clawed at the edges of the hole, trying to pull herself back.

She didn’t succeed. Her body twitched, and suddenly the bloody tip of the Mark of Cain blade burst from her chest. The old woman convulsed, making a hoarse, choking sound, and soon went limp, hanging as a lifeless corpse.

Dean emerged from the wall opening, brushing himself off with a crooked grin as he returned to the kitchen.

“And what would you two do without me… huh? Sam, you almost got kissed by a creepy old woman. I knew that kind of woman was your type,” he said, glancing at his brother, now covered in saliva and grime.

Sam didn’t react to Dean’s jab. All he cared about right now was how to get the creepy old woman’s saliva off his face without turning his stomach inside out.

Alex silently pulled a towel from his inventory and handed it to Sam. He nodded gratefully and started wiping his face, struggling to suppress a wave of nausea while listening to Dean quietly, but clearly smugly, laughing behind him.

Alex just shook his head and walked over to the dead body of the creepy old woman. Without a word, he raised the sledgehammer above his head and brought it down with full force—just to be safe.

There was a dull thud, like a ripe watermelon bursting. Dean and Sam simultaneously turned their heads and saw Alex standing over the body with the old woman’s skull smashed to a pulp. No explanation was needed—it was obvious without words that it was simply a precaution.

Once Sam finally wiped the last traces of the disgusting saliva from his face, they moved on and soon began descending into the basement. In the very center of the room yawned a well. Approaching it, Dean shone his flashlight down, and the beam disappeared into darkness—the well was terrifyingly deep.

“Don’t tell me we’re going down there,” Dean grumbled, keeping the light trained downward. “I can’t even see the bottom. This drop doesn’t inspire confidence.”

“Dean, shine a little to the right,” Sam said, tapping his brother on the shoulder. “Looks like there’s a passage there.”

Dean directed the flashlight to where Sam indicated, and they spotted a barely discernible side passage—so subtle it could easily be missed if you weren’t paying attention. Alex immediately pulled a rope from his inventory, secured it to a beam, and after making sure it was solid, dropped the end down the well.

“I’m first. You follow me,” he said briefly, stepping to the edge.

Dean and Sam nodded, watching him carefully. Alex took a step forward and simply fell into the well, not even grabbing the rope. Clinging to the stone wall with his fingers, he slid down until he reached the correct level, then skillfully stopped by the passage.

Sam and Dean watched silently for a moment, then shook their heads in unison. Dean nodded to Sam, and he began his descent.

Meanwhile, Alex held “Ebony” in his hand, keeping a sharp eye on the passage below, anticipating any nasty tricks—if Pennywise decided to unleash another disgusting monster on them. When Sam reached him, Alex helped him climb into the narrow passage.

“Come on, Dean! Your turn!” Sam called, sticking his head out.

Hearing his voice, Dean took a deep breath, grabbed the rope, and started his descent. He hadn’t even made it halfway when he felt a sudden jerk. Looking up, Dean saw something that made him curse under his breath: the headless old woman they had definitely killed was back. Her claws now looked unnaturally sharp, and she slowly dragged them along the taut rope.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Dean muttered, already realizing that the rope might snap at any moment.

And he was right: in the same instant, the rope was cut, and Dean plummeted downward. As he fell, the world around him seemed to slow, stretching out in thick, suffocating silence. Instinct kicked in before thought—Dean drew the Mark of Cain blade from behind his back and drove it into the stone wall of the well with all his strength, trying at least to slow his fall.

The blade scraped against the stone, sending shards flying in all directions, and Dean, sliding down, clutched the hilt with a death grip, straining to maintain his balance and keep from falling completely.

At the very last moment, Sam managed to grab his brother’s hand and, using all his strength, hauled him into the side passage. Once they were safe, Dean let out a heavy breath and looked at Sam. Sam looked visibly concerned, but Dean just shook his head, signaling that he was okay. Then he peered back out, flipped the middle finger at the decapitated creepy old woman, and immediately ducked back into the passage without waiting for a response.

To get out, they had to crawl on all fours through the narrow tunnel until it opened into a wider area, where Alex was already waiting.

“What happened back there?” Alex asked, turning around.

“The creepy old woman thought it would be funny to cut the rope,” Dean ground out through clenched teeth. “I nearly plummeted to the very bottom of the well.”

Alex nodded understandingly and went through the passage first. His feet immediately sank into the cold sewer water. Dean and Sam followed, shining their flashlights around and sweeping the beams over the damp walls. Alex lit a cigarette, slowly scanning the area, while Sam compared the map with the surrounding tunnels, shining his flashlight along the routes. After a few seconds of cross-checking, he quickly understood which way to go.

“That’s our path. Follow me,” Sam said confidently and started moving forward.

Alex and Dean followed him, ignoring that the water reached their knees and the air reeked of a disgusting stench. Meanwhile, Lucina, Alice, Samantha, Enid, and Wednesday watched the feed along with Castiel, GIR, MIMI, and Stitch, staying behind in the RV.

Technically, the girls could have gone with Alex, Dean, and Sam, but if there was any chance to avoid crawling through the foul-smelling sewers, they gladly took it—all except Wednesday, who seemed completely indifferent.

Meanwhile, Alex, Dean, and Sam squeezed through another narrow passage, ready for a sudden attack at any moment. Alex came out first, holding the sledgehammer in one hand and “Ebony” in the other, scanning the area carefully while Dean and Sam jumped down after him.

“Next fork, go right,” Sam said, shining his flashlight on the map. “The passage to the nest should be there.”

“Then what are we waiting for?” Dean grumbled and moved forward. “I don’t want to waste any more time wandering the sewers.”

“You might want to watch your step,” Alex called. “Or you might be the next one attacked.”

Dean stopped at the fork and looked back at Alex and Sam approaching. He nodded silently and stepped aside, letting them pass. Alex rolled his eyes but didn’t argue and went first.

As they moved down the next stretch of tunnel, they noticed the water getting deeper, and with it, the heavy, putrid stench intensified, making them instinctively take shallower breaths.

Turning another corner, Alex spotted the end of the tunnel and quickened his pace, kicking up mud and debris floating on the surface. Dean and Sam followed, trying to keep up.

When they reached a spacious hall, Alex immediately knew where they were, even though the place looked very different from how he remembered it. Wednesday, watching the feed, also recognized the space—it was the same place she had recently stumbled into in Pennywise’s personal world.

Now, however, everything was different: murky water filled the area, the pile of old toys was destroyed, and no more children’s corpses floated in the air. Squinting, Alex jumped down, and the water immediately reached his waist.

In the center of the hall stood an old, rotting circus wagon—the only thing that hadn’t sunk and still looked almost untouched.

Alex took a few steps forward when he suddenly felt something latch onto his leg. Not wanting to be dragged under the water, he jerked his leg sharply, flinging the attacker upward. A loud splash echoed through the hall, and Alex caught hold of something that vaguely resembled a twisted teenager with a rotting face and empty, glassy eyes.

Holding the corpse at arm’s length, he didn’t let the creature get any closer. It twitched, reached for him, and flailed wildly, trying to break free. With an absolutely calm expression, Alex snapped its neck and tossed the body aside. It flew across the entire hall, slammed into the wall, and then floated back to the surface, bobbing lifelessly near the edge of the water.

Sam and Dean looked at Alex, met his gaze, and nodded in silence. Alex returned the nod and, as if nothing unusual had happened, headed toward a small mound of debris that served as the only island in this flooded chamber.

Climbing up, he reached out a hand first to Sam, then to Dean, helping them out of the water. Moving a bit higher, they approached the old, rotting carnival wagon and saw a small round hatch in its center, covered in strange symbols.

Alex crouched down and touched the carved markings, slowly tracing them with his fingers. He immediately understood what they were—symbols of the Deadlights, the very essence of Pennywise.

“What’s down there?” Sam asked, watching him closely.

“Anything,” Alex replied, shaking his head. “A giant worm, some incomprehensible creature… or the Clown’s stomach.”

“There’s a clown down there we need to kill,” Dean said coldly, gripping the Cain Blade and pointing it at the hatch. “That’s all that matters. So open it.”

Alex looked at Dean, then shifted his gaze to Sam. Sam quickly reloaded the Colt and gave a short nod. Making sure they were both ready, Alex opened the hatch. Inside was a deep passage leading downward.

Shining his flashlight, Alex once again chose to go first—he simply stepped forward and vanished into the darkness, not even trying to slow himself with his hands. Unlike him, Dean and Sam preferred caution and began climbing down carefully after him.

Alex landed at the bottom, looked up, and waited for the others to reach him. Stepping aside so as not to get in the way, he lit another cigarette and scanned the surroundings.

Taking a slight sniff, he caught the familiar, sickeningly sweet stench of Pennywise. When Sam and Dean climbed down, they exchanged nods and moved forward along the only available passage.

At the end of it, a narrow crawlspace awaited them—one that a man with Alex’s, Dean’s, or Sam’s build would barely be able to squeeze through. So Alex once again used the sledgehammer for its intended purpose. He had just drawn it back when all three heard a group of voices, mixed with a distant noise that sounded like children’s whispers.

Stopping, Alex realized the Losers’ Club was performing a ritual to defeat Pennywise—a ritual that wouldn’t work. Killing Pennywise with a foolish rite you didn’t truly believe in was simply impossible.

Alex brought the sledgehammer down, widening the passage so they could crawl through and hurry on before the Clown appeared. Forcing their way through the shattered opening, Alex, Dean, and Sam heard insistent voices repeating the same words over and over again:

“Turn the light into darkness.”

Rushing toward the voices, they pushed through another passage and became witnesses to a mesmerizing yet terrifying sight. The voices of the Losers’ Club echoed throughout the chamber, merging into a single hum, while from above, three yellow lights slowly descended, gently rotating in the air.

The most horrifying part of it all was where they were coming from: the lights seemed to emerge from the maw of a monstrous thing with countless teeth, its enormous jaw pulsing as it opened and closed, as if it were alive.

Alex had been right—just a single glance at the Deadlights was enough to drive anyone mad if they looked without mental protection. Dean was shielded by Amara’s power, yet even he found himself squinting at the sight, while Sam was protected by the bracelet Alex had created from the grace of this universe’s Michael.

Alex lowered his gaze to the members of the Losers’ Club standing at the very center of the hall—right where, many years ago, the meteor carrying Pennywise’s essence had crashed. Around that spot, once-molten stone had frozen in an instant, forming an eternal, warped splash, as if reality itself had been caught and solidified at the moment of impact.

For a moment, Alex wondered whether their plan would succeed. If the ritual worked, he would take the vessel containing the Deadlights for himself. If not… he would simply do it himself and take the Deadlights directly.

“What’s happening here, and what do we do?” Sam asked, shielding his eyes from the oppressive brightness.

“We wait,” Alex replied calmly, exhaling cigarette smoke. “If the ritual fails, we kill the clown. As far as I understand, this is an attempt to seal Pennywise.”

“Do you think it’ll work?” Dean frowned, never taking his eyes off the scene.

“Only if they truly believe in it,” Alex said, bringing the cigarette to his lips. “This ritual isn’t based on words—it’s based on faith, on believing that you’re capable of defeating evil. If there’s even a trace of doubt, all that awaits you is death.”

Dean and Sam simply nodded in silence, fully understanding what he meant. Over the years of hunting, they had seen enough spells and rituals to know that faith sometimes mattered more than any symbols or incantations.

When the Deadlights descended low enough, Alex subtly shifted his neck, catching familiar voices and a thin, almost imperceptible flute melody.

Fortunately, no one but him could hear it—otherwise everyone present would have gone insane long ago. The sound only confirmed his suspicion: Pennywise was a spawn of Chaos. The only thing that truly troubled Alex was why Chuck had allowed Pennywise to appear in this universe at all, letting him take root here and begin devouring it.

The only conclusion he reached was simple and vile: Chuck had decided to use Pennywise as part of his own story, another chapter written for the amusement of his own ego.

While Alex was lost in these thoughts, Dean and Sam watched as the Deadlights reached the members of the Losers’ Club and began sinking into a special vessel.

“Did they manage it?” Dean asked doubtfully.

“No,” Alex replied coldly, flicking away his cigarette and slinging the sledgehammer over his shoulder. “They didn’t believe. Get ready. Now it’s our turn. We’re killing the clown.”

Dean and Sam nodded and prepared to attack. At that very moment, Castiel, remaining out of sight, activated the spell: an invisible barrier formed around Derry, concealing the manifestation of Alex’s power while simultaneously anchoring Pennywise to a single point in time, stripping him of any chance to escape.

Meanwhile, the members of the Losers’ Club opened their eyes, convinced that they had succeeded. However, the vessel meant to contain the Deadlights did not close—an enormous red sphere began to rapidly grow from within it. It expanded at a terrifying speed, swelling larger and larger until they were forced to retreat beyond the boundaries of the stone circle.

When the balloon swelled to the point where it looked like it was about to burst, Alex stepped forward, with Sam and Dean moving after him. The members of the Losers’ Club recoiled when they noticed three strangers who had suddenly appeared nearby. With a short gesture, Alex made it clear they should get out of the way and stop being underfoot.

Bill, noticing the familiar rainbow-colored eyes, frowned for a split second as if about to say something—but at that very moment the huge red balloon burst with a deafening pop. Everyone’s ears rang; people instinctively grabbed their heads, trying to steady themselves.

The beam of a flashlight tore a giant head of Pennywise out of the darkness, and behind him the Deadlights erupted at once. His gaze was fixed solely on the members of the Losers’ Club, who began backing away, gripped by raw, animal terror.

Alex, Dean, and Sam stood off to the side, sizing up Pennywise, who had become truly enormous, and the very same question involuntarily crossed all three of their minds—why do these things always feel the need to get as big as possible?

“Twenty-seven long years I dreamed of you…” Pennywise drawled with relish. “I craved you. I missed you, my dear Losers.”

Pennywise began to crawl out of the circle, greedily devouring the Losers’ Club with his eyes. They instinctively retreated, and every step fed him—the fear was almost tangible, driving the monster into loud, hysterical laughter.

When Pennywise finally emerged from the circle, his true size and shape were revealed to everyone: a monstrous fusion of clown and spider, with sharp, bony spikes instead of arms and countless long, jointed spider legs that scraped against the stone like living blades.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment…” Pennywise drawled, leaning forward as if about to smother them beneath himself.

“I’ve been waiting too,” Alex interrupted calmly. “All day, in fact. So get ready—I’m about to break your spider legs.”

Pennywise faltered. His attention snapped away from the trembling members of the Losers’ Club to Alex, Dean, and Sam, who stood without a trace of fear. The Club kept retreating farther and farther, while these three, on the contrary, didn’t even think about stepping back. Deprived of the familiar terror, Pennywise twitched and involuntarily took a step back.

Meanwhile, Alex calmly lit another cigarette, slung a sledgehammer over his shoulder, and grinned as if he were facing not an ancient cosmic nightmare, but just another annoying problem. Dean gave a faint smirk, tightening his grip on the Blade of Cain and gauging the creature’s size, estimating how long it would take to kill it. Sam clenched the Colt tighter and narrowed his eyes, taking aim with his gaze.

“You…” Pennywise rasped, staring at Alex.

“Yeah, it’s me again,” Alex replied with a grim smile. “Did you miss me, Bobo? You really enjoyed eating Bureau operatives. Time to spit out everything you’ve swallowed.”

“I. AM. NOT. BOBO!!!” Pennywise roared, throwing his maw wide open.

His jaws opened unnaturally wide, revealing the light of the Deadlights. The members of the Losers’ Club immediately looked away, unable to bear the sight, while Alex just smirked. Clutching his sledgehammer, he sprang into action, sliding under Pennywise’s front limbs and ending up beneath its belly.

Leaping to his feet, Alex swung and struck one of the spider legs with full force. A sharp crack echoed as the limb broke, and Pennywise staggered, snapping its jaws shut and letting out a distorted scream.

At the same moment, Dean and Sam split in different directions. Sam climbed onto an elevation and fired the Colt without hesitation. The bullet hit Pennywise’s eye dead-on and exited through the back of its head, but instead of splattering, the blood hung suspended in the air, as if governed by some other physics.

Dean, using the frozen molten stone, lunged upward and jumped onto the creature, plunging the Blade of Cain into its chest. He yanked sharply downward, tearing through flesh that vaguely resembled internal organs.

Pennywise howled in pain and began wildly thrashing its limbs. One of its sharp spikes shot toward Dean, but before it reached its target, Alex stepped in and deflected the spike with a powerful swing of his sledgehammer.

Sam immediately fired again—directly into the torn-open chest, aiming at the massive pulsating organ at the center. The shot made Pennywise recoil and step back. Alex and Dean exchanged a glance and charged forward simultaneously.

Running up to the monster, Alex extended his hand, and Dean grabbed it wordlessly. With a tug, Alex flung him upward, and Dean landed at Pennywise’s chest again, striking at the presumed heart.

Alex jumped after him and slammed the sledgehammer onto the hilt of the Blade of Cain, driving it even deeper. Pennywise let out a strange, choking sound and collapsed onto its back, shaking the hall. Dean pulled the blade free, and together with Alex, they stepped back, never taking their eyes off the fallen body.

The members of the Losers’ Club, watching all this, could hardly believe their eyes. They didn’t know exactly how much time had passed, but in a matter of minutes, the three men before them had accomplished what they themselves had never managed in their entire lives—they had taken down Pennywise. Alex and Dean remained on high alert, fully aware that killing a cosmic clown was no simple feat. Sam quickly reloaded the Colt, keeping it raised.

“Is… is it over?” Eddie’s uncertain voice called from the cave entrance.

“Yeah, over,” Richie replied, pointing to the enormous spider-like body. “There he is, lying there.”

Alex, Dean, and Sam turned their heads toward them, silently questioning why they were still there, then looked back at Pennywise, which showed no signs of life. Alex’s gaze shifted to the Deadlights, still hovering above the hall, and he realized—Pennywise wasn’t dead yet. This was only the first stage.

To be continued…

(I actually wanted to kill Pennywise in this chapter. But I thought, “Oh, how could I possibly miss some things?” So, next comes the clown murder, and then, well, everything else comes later. Then comes Silent Hill, which I think will be a pretty long mini-arc, considering I’m going to show the plots of three games.)

Early access to chapters on my patreon: p*treon.com/GreedHunter

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