James looked at the kids, his face calm but firm. "Alright, gang, it's time to head home," he said. "If you see or hear anything weird, don't play hero—come find us. We're at the Derry Motel, room 107. Got it?"
The kids nodded, but Bill hesitated, shuffling his feet. "Th-thank you," he stammered. "F-for believing us. No one else does."
James gave him a small smile, his tone gentle. "Hey, sometimes the adults get it wrong, but that's why we're here. We'll figure it out."
Ash leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. "Yeah, but don't go pulling some Scooby-Doo stunt, alright? Stick together, stay safe, and don't do anything you wouldn't see in a G-rated movie."
Richie smirked faintly. "So, no splitting up to search the creepy basement?"
Ash pointed at him, nodding. "Exactly. This kid gets it."
Ben glanced nervously at the others. "We'll be careful. Promise."
One by one, the kids shuffled out of the clubhouse, their footsteps fading into the night. James and Ash waited until the clearing was silent before heading back to their car. As James slid into the driver's seat, he sighed and grumbled, "You know, they could've told us this in broad daylight instead of dragging us out here in the middle of the night."
Ash shrugged, a small grin tugging at his lips. "Midnight drama's a vibe, man. Didn't you ever stay up late telling ghost stories when you were their age?"
James shot him a look as he started the car. "Nope. I was too busy not screwing around with haunted basements."
As they drove back to the motel, Ash glanced out the window, his tone thoughtful. "You think we should hit up that creepy old house? You know, the one on Neibolt Street? Place looks like the set of a bad horror movie. If there's trouble anywhere in this town, it's there."
James frowned, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. "Not yet. First, we figure out exactly what this clown thing is. Did Ellen find anything?"
Ash shook his head, leaning back. "Still searching. This thing's got more secrets than a soap opera."
James sighed, gripping the wheel tighter. "The longer we take, the worse it gets for those kids. I've got a bad feeling one of them's next—or maybe they're all on the chopping block."
Ash nodded, his expression serious. "We'll keep an eye on them. No way are we letting this freak get the upper hand."
Back at the motel, both men were wiped out. They crashed as soon as they hit their beds, waking up early the next morning to a loud knock at the door. James froze mid-step, while Ash grabbed his gun and mouthed, Stay cool. He moved cautiously to the door, cracking it open just enough to see the kids standing outside, wide-eyed and out of breath.
Ash lowered his gun and swung the door open. "What's the deal, guys? It's not even breakfast yet."
Ben burst out, "You have to come—something weird happened at Beverly's house!"
Ash raised a brow. "Weird how? Like 'weird' weird or 'call the Ghostbusters' weird?"
Bill stepped forward, his stutter kicking in. "B-blood. E-everywhere. It came out of the b-basin. No one else c-can see it but us."
James shot Ash a look. "Sounds like call-the-Ghostbusters weird to me."
Ash grabbed his jacket, motioning toward the door. "Alright, let's roll. Show us what went down. And no kidding this time, or I'm billing you for the coffee I haven't had yet."
James frowned as they walked down the hall, pulling on his jacket. "Who's Beverly?" he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and concern.
Richie adjusted his glasses, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "Bev. Beverly Marsh. Redhead, kinda quiet but tougher than nails. She's with us."
"She's been through some weird stuff too," Ben added, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's not just the blood. This… thing, whatever it is, keeps messing with her. She said she saw something creepy in her bathroom mirror the other night, but her dad didn't believe her."
Ash snorted, running a hand through his messy hair. "Sounds like this town's got more drama than a high school cafeteria."
Richie chuckled under his breath, but Bill stepped forward, his frustration showing. "She's not making it up! None of us are!"
James held up a hand, his voice calm but firm. "Easy, kid. We believe you. That's why we're here. Now, show us Beverly's place, and we'll take it from there."
The kids nodded and led James and Ash down Derry's quiet streets. The sun was out, but it didn't do much to ease the tension. James walked with purpose, one hand resting near his jacket, ready for anything. Ash kept pace beside him, eyes darting around like he expected trouble to jump out of the bushes.
When they reached Beverly's house—a small, run-down place that had definitely seen better days—Beverly was already sitting on the front steps, clutching a towel stained red. Her pale face and shaky hands said it all. James stepped closer, lowering his voice like he was talking someone off a ledge.
"You Beverly?" he asked gently. "I'm James, and this is Ash. The others filled us in. You alright?"
She nodded a little, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm fine, but… it's still there. My dad doesn't see it, but I swear I'm not crazy."
Ash gave a low whistle, leaning casually against the railing. "You're telling me your dad walked past a bloodbath and thought, 'Yeah, that's normal'? Guy must have nerves of steel—or the vision of a bat."
Beverly's lips twitched into the faintest of smiles, but her eyes stayed wary. "It's in the bathroom," she said quietly.
James nodded. "Alright. Let's take a look."
She stepped aside, and James and Ash moved into the house with the kids trailing behind. The place smelled of mildew and cheap air freshener, the kind people use to mask problems instead of fixing them. James scanned the living room, taking in the worn furniture and peeling wallpaper.
"This place gives me the heebie-jeebies," Ash muttered under his breath. "Feels like the start of a bad horror flick."
"Welcome to our life," Richie quipped. "We're the extras who get axed first."
When they reached the bathroom, Beverly stopped at the door, her hand hovering over the knob.
James put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We've got it. Just stay out here, okay?"
She nodded and stepped aside. James opened the door, and the smell hit them first—metallic and sharp. Blood covered every inch of the bathroom, dripping down the walls like it had a mind of its own. The sink was overflowing with thick red liquid, and the air felt heavy, almost alive.
Ash glanced around the bathroom, his eyebrows furrowed. "Is this some kind of joke?" he asked, looking back at the kids. "Come on, blood on the walls? What is this, Halloween come early?"
James turned to him, his disbelief plain. "Dude, are you blind? Look at the sink, the walls—it's everywhere!"
Ash squinted at the bathroom, then shrugged with an easy grin. "All I see is a bathroom that could use a mop and a prayer. Not a single drop of blood."
James studied Ash closely, realizing his partner wasn't faking it. Ash genuinely couldn't see the mess, which meant this had to be something supernatural, messing specifically with the kids—and James, thanks to his ability.
Dropping his voice, James leaned toward Ash. "Remember the manor? When I was the only one who saw those 30 freaky ghosts? This feels just like that."
Ash's grin faltered for a moment as the memory hit. "Oh, yeah. Fun times," he muttered, shuddering for effect. He brushed at his arms as he stepped out of the bathroom. "So, it's not on me, right? Because I'm not in the mood to get slimed."
James smirked. "You're clean. Now hand me the EMF reader."
Ash hesitated before pulling it out of his jacket. "You sure about this? Caleb swore this was the best one, but it's been about as useful as a wet match in a hurricane."
James snatched it and stepped back into the bathroom, flipping it on. The reader buzzed softly, but the screen stayed blank. No signals. No readings.
James gave it a shake. "Seriously? Piece of junk."
Ash leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. "Hey, I shelled out good money for that thing. Don't blame me if the ghost world decided to go Bluetooth."
James sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It didn't work in the manor, and it's not working now. I'm starting to think we're wasting time with this tech."
Ash shrugged. "Some spooky stuff is just sneaky. We've got a knack for running into the deluxe, hide-everything kind of evil."
James turned to the kids, who were bunched together near the door, pale as sheets. "You guys hanging in there?"
Richie, ever the smartass, shot back, "Define 'hanging in there.' If you mean 'trying not to pee myself,' then yeah, I'm hanging in there."
Beverly clutched her towel tighter, her voice shaking. "You can see it, right? The blood?"
James nodded. "Yeah, I see it. But don't freak out—we'll figure this out."
Bill stepped forward, his stutter more noticeable than usual. "C-can you stop it? M-make it go away?"
James glanced at Ash, then back at Bill. "We're working on it," he said firmly. "And whatever this thing is, it's not laying a finger on you while we're here."
Ben, his voice quiet but steady, added, "It's not just the blood. It feels like… like it's watching us."
Ash groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Great. Creepy, invisible blood and a stalker vibe. Perfect. Just what we needed."
Before anyone could respond, a deep, gruff voice broke the tension. "Who the hell are you people, and what are you doing in my house?"
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