Chapter Text
ＯＣＴＯＢＥＲ１１ｔｈ１９６２
Crisp, curled leaves were scattered across the path, decorating the paved slabs with different hues of orange and red. The area was quiet and tranquil, The noises of the bustling streets distant, sounding more like a buzz or hum, nothing but background noise. Light wind whistled through the gaps in a large, empty house that rested in the setting, almost like the wall blocking the couple from the rest of the world.
A raven-haired teen arrived, with gangly limbs and hideously magnified eyes , almost determined to destroy the peace of the secluded haven. He leapt in long strides through the dying, uncut grass, crushing small leaves beneath his feet, the crunch of their aged bodies against the cement path giving him great satisfaction. He grinned widely, his uneven teeth caged in horrendous-looking braces on full display.
This was Richie, the first of two to enter the small 'garden' (it was more of a badly kept yard in all honesty) behind the infamous house on neibolt street. Nobody dared to go within a twenty metre radius of the abandoned structure, meaning it was perfect for him, and the second person accompanying the abnormally tall boy.
Connor hesitantly followed behind, steadily jogging to keep up with Richie. His blonde curls bounced with each step, falling over his eyes as he stopped abruptly. He came face to face with dark eyes through coke-bottle lenses, and a galaxy of freckles obscured by a red-tinted blush. The dark-haired male softly reached up to place his hands against Connor's cheeks. This was what they came here for, and so he let it happen.
The shorter of the two wrapped his arms around Richie's shoulders, balancing himself of his tiptoes in order to reach his lips. He missed the days when he'd been the one towering over the paler teen, but after he'd hit a growth spurt over summer the previous year, Richie had managed to take that role.
Deep, cobalt orbs met obsidian ones, both sets softly fluttering closed as their lips met. Both of their faces were stained pink, their arms holding onto each other to keep themselves as close as possible. Connor could feel Richie smile into the kiss, himself repeating the gesture. He'd always been a nervous boy, but Richie made him feel a different kind of anxiety. One that spiked like an electric shock before settling as a knot in your stomach that made you feel dizzy but in a good way. It wasn't exactly butterflies, but he liked it, and he figured Richie did too.
After they parted, he sighed in contempt, leaning into his boyfriend's chest, a soft grin visible in his features. He felt the faint jab of Richie's pronounced chin through his curls, the poorly-sighted boy resting his head atop of Connor's.
That moment was like pure joy, but that didn't seem to explain why it had to be so short lived.
A dull thud followed by a pained yelp seemed to send a stab of alarm through the blonde male, the grip around his waist loosening dramatically. He jumped back, startled by the sudden noise. It took him a minute to regain composure and figure out what was going on, but his thoughts were distracted from the current events, his attention instead being dragged towards his cousin, Henry Bowers.
"Richie fucking Tozier? Did i just catch you trying to bone my little cousin?"
He was frozen, where was richie. He was no longer stood in front of connor, smiling in a way that seemed brighter than the sun like he'd been so recently, and it scared him.
In a moment of panic, he began to frantically scan the area, stopping immediately after spotting a brightly-clad figure sprawled across the concrete path, groaning in pain. Beside him were his glasses, a lense popped out and cracked beside the frames, next to the blood-stained rock that had knocked them off in the first place. The first thing that warrented any attention however, was the thick liquid pooling into the inky coils of Richie's hair.
It had splattered across the grey stone on impact, the crimson red baring high contrast to the ground.
Connor fought the urge to rush to his aid, standing on the sidelines with wide eyes, and shaking hands. His sandy-haired cousin didn't seem to pay him any mind, instead focusing on the boy who was slowly trying to push up from against the ground.
They were so foolish.
"ANSWER ME YOU FUCKING FAGGOT !"
The shorter boy flinched rather dramatically at the sudden outburst, even the two boys accompanying Henry showing discomfort with the situation. With Richie's failure to reply, the older male reached into his pocket, retrieving a gun which presumably belonged to his father. The metallic glint of the object was enough to pull a shaky sob from Connor's throat.
At this, he received a bullet to the ground in front of his feet, inches away from missing. He screamed in shock, reaching up to sheild his face as if it would be of any use. His shoulders shook with fearful cries as Henry shot him a demented grin
"What's up Connor? Yannow boys don't cry. Why ya crying? You scared for the Trashmouth? Huh? Is that it? COS IT BETTER NOT BE ! "
He struggled to find the strength to respond, but mustering up as much confidence as he could in the moment, he hesitantly whispered
"N-no, you just didn't tell me y-your town was filled with little f-fairies."
He felt sick.
He hated how bitter he sounded. He hated how scared he sounded. And he hated the broken gasp that emerged from Richie's still form. At this, The mullet-wearing monster spun on his heel and took a step over to the vulnerable mess that was richie.
All Richie could hear by now, however, was ringing as his vision went from blurry to nonexistent. His eyes were welling up with burning tears, but not from pain. He was numb, everything was numb and it was fucking terrifying. From in front of the sunlight, he could make out the menacing sillhouette of his attacker, the ominous black mass being recognisable from the pure malice it seemed to radiate.
He could hear muffled yells, followed by a click as his head fell to the side as he attempted to move, like it was suddenly too heavy for his neck to hold.
"H--! Wh-- wa- --at -uppos-- to -e?! Huh tozier? G-- somethi-- to sa-?!"
He slowly opened his mouth to respond, his half lidden eyes growing dull, but he was essentially startled into a state of consciousness by a sudden kick to stomach. Vomit all but flew from his mouth and across the stone slabs. He coughed to try and rid his throat of the acidic sting left behind, but was interrupted by his own gutteral screams.
A horrific burn rushed through his left leg as his entire body spasmed, writhing in pain as his voice grew hoarse from the pained cries that had left him moments proir. As his leg lost feeling, he couldn't find it in him to panic, instead welcoming the feeling. His screeches eventually died down to shallow breaths that Connor couldn't bear to hear as he curled in on himself on the ground, hiding in his arms as if it could take him back to a less terrifying scenario. It didn't stop him from looking up however, when he heard the gun clatter against the ground. It would have brought him relief had he not seen Henry kneeling with his legs either side of richie's twitching body.
His grin seemed to grow wider and wider as he rolled up his sleeves and clenched his fists. His 'friends' had run away by this point, bolting through a gap in the mesh fence as they stumbled over their legs to get away from this psychopath they'd been following.
Connor however hadn't moved an inch. It was like he was stuck, spectating in sick curiosity. He may as well have run with the others, because here he was, frozen and watching as his own cousin launched his knuckles into his boyfriend's pale face.
It started with his eyes, growing enflamed and red in a way that would surely emerge into deep purple bruises given time, and much to his dismay, it was followed by a sickening crunch. Connor couldn't tell if it was from Richie's skull against the rough ground, or his nose shattering, a deep groove being formed in the flesh, exposing the blood-covered cartlidge due to the sheer force against his abused skin.
Either way,it sent a chill down his spine
'Just like the leaves'
Only Richie loved the leaves, and he loved the noises they made, but nobody could love the current scenario, apart from the sick way Henry seemed to.
Connor stared as Henry's, long, skinny fingers wound around Richie's neck, clenching his teeth as he began to tighten his grip. The vulnerable boy beneath him let out a weak wheeze at first, which evolved into panicked gurgling. He struggled to move his legs, trying his hardest to make a move, to even writhe in pain, to get this murderous fuck off of him, and alas he failed. His hands weakly grabbed at the other boy's wrists. His fingertips began to grow cold and Richie didn't completely understand why. He couldn't think, and really he didn't want to.
After a few attempts of clawing at Bowers's arms, he let his limbs fall to his side, as a blissful loss of feeling crossed his mind. His muscles refused to answer his calls, the tightness in his throat overtaking anything he could have felt. His lungs were on fire, but rather than a flicker, Richie was met with a dark void caving in from the edges of his vision.
The light left his eyes.
His mouth was left slightly agape, and his face was paler than usual. No sweet, playful smile, no soft blush, nothing was left.
Suddenly it was like everything of richie was just
Gone.
Connor couldn't help but stare into Richie's half-lidded, glassy eyes, the pupils dilating as his irises seemed to go from an inky shade, to a grey the colour of lead.
And it was only now that the murderer waltzed over to Connor, grabbing him roughly by the arm and pulling him to his feet, his fingers digging into his skin with such force it threatened to bruise.
Connor could care less however, his looping thoughts being
'That's not richie anymore. He's gone. He's gone connor '
he felt like he should have been more disturbed by the events he'd witnessed as he left the lifeless husk that had once been Richie, sprawled across the ground in a pool of his own,grossly congealing, blood.
He couldn't find it in him to go back, the shock still coursing through his veins as tears rolled down his cheeks, leaving burning trails of guilt-fuelled fire.
Connor let Henry take him away.