@bridgecarve / sent ask / !!!
he’s aching. boots filled with sewer water slowing him down. he thinks he out RAN that thing. that creature. the clown. the laughter rings in his ears.
the leeches. fuck. they’re still stuck to his body. smaller ones, he could feel them on his back. blood dripped from his mouth, he’d torn a leech from his tongue. everything burned in pain. that FUCKING CLOWN.
the daylight burns his eyes. he can only imagine the reason he escaped was because he COULDN’T die. if he died then so did that freaky thing.
knees scraped as he fell to his hands and knees, he didn’t feel that sting. mumbles and whispers for help for anyone who can HEAR him. patrick can’t die, not YET.
he hears movement. please don’t let it be those LEECHES. shark eyes look up and he sees richie. just his LUCK. “ged ove ‘ere.” blood drips from his torn tongue.







