stuttering bill



    Somewhere below, in the stormdrain that was already filled nearly to capacity with runoff (there could have been no one down there, the County Sheriff would later exclaim to a Derry News reporter with a frustrated fury so great it was almost agony; Hercules himself would have been swept away in that driving current), George’s newspaper boat shot onward through nighted chambers and long concrete hallways that roared and chimed with water. For awhile it ran neck-and-neck with a dead chicken that floated with its yellowy, reptilian toes pointed at the dripping ceiling; then, at some junction east of town, the chicken was swept off to the left while George’s boat went straight.
    An hour later, while George’s mother was being sedated in the Emergency Room at Derry Home Hospital and while Stuttering Bill sat stunned and white and silent in his bed, listening to his father sob hoarsely in the parlor where his mother had been playing Für Elise when George went out, the boat shot out through a concrete loophole like a bullet exiting the muzzle of a gun and ran at speed down a sluiceway and into an unnamed stream. When it joined the boiling, swollen Penobscot River twenty minutes later, the first rifts of blue had begun to show in the sky overhead. The storm was over.

Part 1: The Shadow Before  
  1. After the Flood (1957)

Your Savior - 5

I am so sorry that this took so long to get out! I am finally over my stomach virus and was able to get this done today!
Thank you as always for taking the time to read the nonsense that I have created in my head!
I had an absolute blast writing this chapter! It did stretch a little longer than I expected, but I really wanted to portray this part well. I hope I have managed to do that! 

Link to Chapter 4


Mentions of rape, swearing, violence, gore

Chapter 5

“Thomas! Bill! Get your sorry asses over here now!”

You heard the shuffling of feet in the dirt as the two men hastened to obey their given command. “Yes Boss? What can we do for ya?” Tommy answered, stopping a few feet from you and your companion. You chanced a glance up at the two men from your position on the ground. Tommy looked as cool as a cucumber, no trace of worry reflecting on his features. Bill, on the other hand, was shooting nervous glances between you, Tommy, and the man with the bat.

“On your knees. Now.” His voice was cool, but his eyes flashed darkly. His presence commanded authority, and the vibes rolling off of him sent chills down your spine, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to raise up.

“Sir?” Tommy questioned, slowly moving to his knees. “Is there a problem? ‘Cause I sure….”

SPEAK ONLY WHEN YOU ARE SPOKEN TO!” The man roared at him, bringing forth absolute silence from the entire crowd. He turned and looked down at you and extended a leather-clad hand. “C'mon Doll, there’s no reason for you to be down in the dirt.”

You stared at his hand for moment, before looking up to his face. The fury that had been etched there mere seconds before had been replaced with gentleness and compassion. You gingerly took his hand and slowly rose to your feet, taking a deep composing breath before turning to face your attackers keeping yourself positioned just behind his comforting presence.

“Now boys, we seem to have ourselves one hell of a goddamn dilemma here, and I just cannot have that.” He began pacing in front of the two men, swinging “Luillce” absentmindedly. “For things to keep running as smoothly as they have been around here, I need reso-fucking-lution, and I need it now.” He made his way back to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, causing you to flinch unconsciously. “Now, this little lady here, well she’s had a bad fucking week. While she was out minding her own business, just trying to survive in this fucked up world, two…” he struggled a moment to come up with the right words, “COWARDLY BASTARD-ASS SONS-OF-BITCHES, ATTACKED her, RAPED her, STABBED her, and left her for dead.” Hearing your story broadcast to all of his people, all of those strangers, brought hot shame to your face and tears to your eyes. You hung your head low, refusing to look at the crowd. What must they think of me? To be in this world and not even be able to defend myself against two men. How stupid!

“Well that’s terrible Boss! What can we…” Tommy began.

DID I TELL YOU TO FUCKING SPEAK?!?!” He roared and waited for Tommy to silently shake his head before taking a breath and continuing on, resuming his pacing. “Now that would be problem enough boys, but it just gets worse from there. You see, being goddamn smart, and bad-fucking-ass, not to mention tough as HELL, this little thing here took the knife that she had been stabbed with OUT OF HER OWN FUCKING SIDE to fight back and managed to escape.” You heard several murmurs from the crowd after this, but it didn’t take long for a tense silence to once again take over.

He knelt down in front of Tommy and Bill. “Now, do you want to hear the really interesting part? I’ll bet you’re just dying to hear it.” He was obviously enjoying himself, he was grinning dangerously and even snuck his tongue out from between his pearly white teeth to lick his bottom lip. “The knife that was used to attack her, do you want to guess who it belongs to? Go ahead, take a guess.” Tension hung in the air, hot and heavy. It was a rhetorical question, but still he sat inches from the two men as if actually waiting for an answer. “It belongs to ME.” He said darkly, pulling it from the dirt to show it to the men. “See? It has my girl Lucille on it, and I do believe that you have a knife checked out from the inventory that I don’t happen to see on you right now. Now how in the holy fuck did that happen?”

Tommy had finally started to show some signs of stress, you could see sweat building up on his forehead, and his voice had lost that confident swagger. “Well sir, here’s the thing, a few days ago Bill and I were out scavenging and I, well I lost it, I knew you’d be mad so I didn’t say anything. I’ve been hoping to find or replace it…”

“You…lost it?” He asked incredulously. “That’s what you’re gonna go with? Goddamn, I knew you weren’t smart but holy hell. Alright.” He was rubbing his scruff as he got to his feet, obviously feigning thought. “You know what else I find really interesting about her story? Out of this whole camp, ALL of the men here, she managed to pick YOU two sorry sons-of-bitches out of the crowd. If you ask me that’s pretty fucking interesting. Now why would she do that? Why you two?“ He looked at the two men with a raised eyebrow, waiting for an answer.

“I-I don’t know Boss. Maybe she’s just confused? After something like that I’d imagine the thoughts in your head get a little fuzzy.” You snapped your head up to stare incredulously at Tommy, rage building up inside of you.

“How fucking dare you!” You spat at him, meeting his eyes for the first time without fear. The man in the leather jacket’s presence the only thing keeping you from leaping at him and clawing his eyes out.

“Easy there darlin’, easy!” He chuckled, walking back toward you. “Thomas, I’d be careful if I was you, she looks pretty damn pissed off.” He said over his shoulder to Tommy. “Now sweetheart, he does have a point.” You snapped your head to glare at him as he began pacing and rubbing his face again. What?!?! “How can I take just your word that these two men, MY two men attacked you? I’ve known them for a long time now, and you and I just met. How do I know that you AREN’T just confused, or lying. Maybe Thomas here DID lose his knife and someone else happened to pick it up and THEY attacked you instead of my guys.”

Your chest heaved and your voice shook as you answered him, you were so furious you could barely breath. “It was them. I know it was them. I will NEVER forget what they look like. Why does he have a scratched face, then huh? It’s because I cut him trying to escape! Bill too, on his right forearm!” Does he seriously not believe me? After all of this?

“Well that’s a fair fucking question! Thomas? Bill?” The man replied gleefully, waiting for an answer.

“These are from a bird. A hawk or some shit. We startled it in the woods. It flew up and attacked us.“ Tommy answered smoothly, obviously having thought of this answer before.

“A, bird?” The man asked. “Fuck, well sure.” He rubbed his eyes wearily before looking again to you.

“My pack! If they are as dumb as they look they actually brought it back with them. It’s khaki canvas, and I can list every supply inside of it, including a picture of my and my sister!” Explain your way out of that one asshole!

The man sighed, turning to Simon, who immediately walked away, returning after just a minute or two with a clipboard full of papers. “Well sir, it does say here that last week Bill and Thomas checked in a khaki canvas bag. Supplies include…”

“Don’t bother Simon. Thomas? Bill? Want to explain that?”

“We, we found it.” Stuttered Bill, finally speaking. “It was abandoned out on Old Mill Rd, where we were scouting.”

Goddamn it. I can’t do this anymore. You looked away and stifled back a sob. They can’t get away with this! Your savior saw your reaction and came over to you, gently pulling your chin back to look at his face. “I believe you doll, I do.” He whispered too quietly for anyone to hear.

“Then why are we doing this?” You cried quietly. “If they aren’t going to stand trial or something then just let me leave! I can’t stay here with them!”

“Oh sweetheart, this is the only fucking trial they’ll get. Around here I am the judge, jury, and goddamn executioner. But I can’t just have strangers coming into my camp accusing my people of things. I need THEM to believe you too.” He whispered nodding his head toward the crowd. “Just give me SOMETHING to give to them.”

It makes sense. He has to lead these people. You turned to Tommy and Bill and stared directly into their faces. Tommy had started to smirk, thinking that they were going to get off scott free. He even winked at you cockily. Your veins filled with ice, you closed your eyes but his face was still there. This time above you, panting. No matter how hard you fought…Your head snapped up, and your eyes locked with Tommy’s. This time, you were the one to smirk.

“I bit him.” Tommy’s smile faltered as soon as the words left your lips. “On his right shoulder, around the collarbone. I drew blood, there should be a mark.”

The man sauntered over to Tommy, and pulled the collar of his shirt down, exposing an angry-looking bite wound. He clicked his tongue. “Well Thomas, I just don’t think you’re going to have an excuse for this one. Do you mean to tell me, that two grown, healthy, well-fed, well-trained men were outsmarted and overpowered by this little hellcat here?” He laughed, pointing the barbed-wire-covered end of the bat at you. “Well now, that’s just downright embarrassing! You two should be ashamed of yourselves!”

Tommy began stuttering nervously. “She-she wanted it! She begged us for it! I don’t know what happened to her after we left but..”


Your mouth flew open in shock as he brought “Lucille” down brutally on Tommy’s head, cracking his skull open and spraying blood everywhere. You heard several screams from the crowd around you. “You lying sack of shit!” He raged. “How DARE you! You. Don’t. Deserve. To. Live!” Brutal swings punctuated his every word. He was a man possessed, continuing to beat Tommy’s head well after he was dead, leaving only an unrecognizable bloody pile of brains and skull fragments.

You stared at the pile with a hand over your open mouth. He deserved it, he was a terrible person. If hurt you, he would hurt others. The brutality of what you had just witnessed shook you to your core. In all the ways you had pictured Tommy getting his retribution, you had never pictured…this.

“Goddamn I love the smell of justice in the morning!” The man crowed, swinging a now blood-soaked Lucille, spraying blood in an arc in the dirt. He walked back over to you, a swagger in his step, slightly breathless and asked, “How was that darlin’? Everything you’ve ever dreamed of?” He reached a hand toward your face, which you immediately flinched away from.

"Hey.” He said softly. “Hey!” He said with slightly more urgency this time. You finally looked up, studying his face. It was flushed from the effort of swinging the bat, but behind the exuberant glow in his eyes, confusion and concern was growing. “Aw shit. I fucking scared you. Listen doll, I can’t lie and say that I didn’t enjoy the hell out of that. Thomas, well he deserved to die for what he did to you.”

You looked down, overwhelmed by the emotions running through your head. “What I CAN tell you,” he began, reaching again for your face, but stopping just before touching you to allow you to decide to accept it or not. After a few seconds you leaned your face into his ungloved hand, feeling the rough skin of his fingers gently caress your face before lightly tilting your face up to his again. “Is that I would NEVER hurt you, or let anyone else ever hurt you EVER again.” He promised in his low, gravely voice.

Warmth flooded your chest, and a few silent tears ran down your cheek before being wiped away by his thumb. You smiled lightly before glancing at Bill. “What happens to him?” You asked quietly.

"Well, he does still need to be fucking punished.” He started slowly, as he pressed Lucille’s handle into your open palm.

You backed away in shock, staring at the bloody weapon in your hand. “Me?!?!” You looked at Bill, your heart racing. “I-I can’t. I’m not, it should…” you stuttered, heart racing, trying to hand the Lucille back to him.

"You’re not what, doll? Strong? Well we know that that’s not fucking true! You CAN do this! You SHOULD do this!” He leaned in closer to you, whispering in your ear, sending shivers instead of fear down your spine, “you know you want to, even if you aren’t ready to admit it to yourself yet. I’m giving you the opportunity to make. Him. Pay. Embrace the anger, the fear, and use it so you can move on.”

Your grip tightened slightly on the wooden handle, and you looked at Bill, still on his knees in the dirt beside Tommy’s remains. You remembered his hands on your arms, holding you down as you screamed, his breath hot and needy in your ear while Tommy violated you. Your face hardened and you took a step toward him.

"Wait! Wait! Boss, listen!” Bill plead. “I get why ya had to cap Tommy, I do! We don’t rape, that’s one of your biggest rules!” He looked nervously between you and the man behind you. “But, listen! I never raped her! It was all Tommy, I swear!”

“But you would have.” You replied quietly, feeling the tension in the air. “While you were holding me down for him, you BEGGED him to hurry so that you could ‘have a turn’. And if I hadn’t escaped you absolutely would have taken your turn.” Your heart buzzed in your ears and you panted slightly. You turned to look at the man standing behind you, asking for permission to continue. He nodded, silently granting your request.

“Please, wait…” stammered Bill.

You tightened your grip on the wooden handle and cooly stared Bill down. You walked toward him slowly, like a lioness on the hunt. His fear was intoxicating. Once it had been you pleading with him, and now he was entirely at your mercy. You could understand now why your savior had enjoyed killing Tommy. You drank Bill’s fear like sweet nectar, feeling emblazoned with every step you took toward him, lightning crackling through your veins.

“Don’t worry baby.” You cooed at him. “It’ll only hurt if you struggle. But honestly, I kind of hope you do. I like it better that way.” You were able to enjoy one last moment of his fear as you repeated his own words back at him, before you brought “Lucille” down onto his skull with a bone-cracking swing.

************************************************** Aaahhhh! Sweet, sweet justice! I’ve been dying to dole out what Bill and Thomas had coming to them since Chapter 1!

Thank you again for all of the support! I love you all and wouldn’t be confident enough to keep writing without all of your lovely feedback! I’m always open for comments, asks, anything!

Link to Chapter 6


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Be My Baby

For @queerstanuris, @eddiextozier, and @trashmouthrichie

“Richie, hold on a minute.”

Bill’s voice was laced with nerves, which crawled up Richie’s spine as he came to a halt in the middle of the parking lot. The ground was wet, and the air was full of smoke from cigarettes. Behind them, the 21+ bar blazed with neon and shook from the music within.

“Yeah, Bill?” he asked, voice level, for something told him this was not the time to drop a ‘Billy Boy’, or ‘Stuttering Bill’.

His boyfriend shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans and sighed out a cloud of mist. “I… Back there, in the bar? With those guys you were chatting up—”

“‘Chatting up’?! Why, Bill, you think too much of me! Are you jealous, perchance?”

“No! I don’t want to hear another fucking Voice, Rich, I just want you to listen to me!”

Richie recoiled, but thankfully their car was just behind him, ready to save him from too much embarrassment.

Bill rubbed his brow. “You can’t d-do that anymore, R-Richie. Okay?”

“Do what?”

“Flirt around. Get so wasted you can’t s-see straight—”

“I didn’t drink tonight, Bill—”

“That’s not it, Rich, and you know it.”

Richie frowned. He toyed with the keys in hand. “Then what is ‘it’?”

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Guess who started reading ‘It’??? I had no idea how much a book could scare me. I don’t remember a bit of the really old movie except for tim curry’s pennywise which is a prime opportunity for doing some mental designs for the characters.  
In this particular chapter Richie ‘Trashmouth’ Tozier and ‘Stuttering’ Bill (who’s little brother was murdered under mysterious circumstances) go exploring under a dilapidated house after Eddie (a friend not pictured) told them he saw a ‘leper’ down there. Bill and Richie are getting wind of the paranormal characteristics surrounding certain events and thus Bill steals his dad’s gun and they both go down there to investigate. Let me tell you I have not been that tense in all my life specially since I like those guys so much, specially Richie (I have a soft spot for smart asses)

PSA about Stuttering

Greetings and Salutations! I am a stutter, but I have it pretty under control except for times when it just slips out. However, I have recently decided to stop trying to cover my stutter up as much because “Stuttering” Bill Denbrough from Stephen King’s “It” has given me confidence (him and I are extremely similar). So, right onto the PSA. Please, for the love of Jashin, be nice to people who stutter. We aren’t less intelligent (although we sometimes feel like it. Research has proven [I think] that people who stutter are more intelligent), we don’t need it pointed out, and don’t get aggressive/annoyed when we stutter. IT DOESN’T HELP. For example, I accidentally stuttered in front of my cousin (I couldn’t control it that time) and she got one inch from my face and mocked my stutter. That was fucking terrible. Especially because that was my family member, plus it usually goes unnoticed by people (or so I think). Then, recently because of my bout of confidence I mentioned earlier, I have been stuttering more and my “best friend” noticed I was acting tense (she had previously asked why I was stuttering so much) so I told her that it was because she pointed out my stuttering. She then said that I was trying to be/imitate the character of Bill because I admired him and that I was trying to make myself stutter more because of that. Then said that when I “imitate characters I admire” it makes her angry and she’s the aggressive kind of angry. Now that pissed me off to the point of covering up my stutter just for her. (side note: I only ‘imitate’ characters that are really similar to me and give me confidence to emphasize things I’m normally hesitant about showing or something. Plus she likes to think she knows me better than me.) If you know someone who stutters DON’T BE AN ASSHOLE. Don’t point it out, don’t get mad/annoyed with them, don’t make fun of them/mock them, and don’t make them feel bad for stuttering or like they need to cover it up for your convenience. (another side note: my dad had a stutter so I’m not pulling my stutter out of my ass). It gets annoying when I have to use different words, pause in the middle of a sentence, use fillers such as “um”, and slow down my speech. Just let people be, and be understanding.

The Demons Apprentice 3

okay guys, sorry this is so short but i’ve had a lot going on and I’m probably going to take a bit of time for the next part but hopefully that one will be much longer than this one-anyways enjoy~


[part 3-]

[:Chapter two – Teacher and Student –:]


Mystery Shack, about a week later:


Mabel was laying on her bed. She had been doing that a lotlately. She turned on her side, though regretting it as she was reminded of theempty bed on the other side of the room. She looked down at the sleeve of hersweater, playing with it. Burrowing her face into her pillow she sighed. She had been doing a lot of that too.

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am I the only one who’s nervous bc I haven’t heard bill stutter at all in any of the trailers???

I haven’t been able to hear super clear so I could’ve missed it but ///: I’m nervous

*cracks knuckles*  If I was supposed to keep this mildly light and not drive characters into insanity, I apologize.

Blind Trust

Stan had grown used to not being able to see.  It was four years ago that he lost his sight to a job gone wrong.  It was his fault the job fucked up, and he paid the price for it.  He accepted it.  Granted, if given the chance, he would deliver pain thrice the amount that Rico’s blade did to his eyes, but that was revenge to never be obtained.  And Stan liked to pretend that he was still a some-what nice person.  Not that he had ever been treated like one.  Even after he had gone blind, people still treated him like shit.  Worse, actually.  The made fun of the scars by the edges of his eyes and on the bridge of his nose.  They made it clear that his open and unseeing eyes made them uncomfortable, many of them forgetting that his blindness was not linked to his ears at all.  People everywhere ridiculed him for something he couldn’t even control.  Mankind was sick and twisted.  His hate for them only grew over the years.  But the weakness in his heart always made him forgive.  Or, at least, move on.  He couldn’t hate people for long.  He could live for an eternity and never hate anyone.  But there wasn’t a point in living if you didn’t have someone to love or love you back.  For someone to care.

That’s when he appeared.

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