Henry Bowers⁷

You’re walking alone through the woods after school, backpack on your shoulders, trying to take a shortcut home. The silence is broken only by snapping branches. Suddenly, you hear footsteps behind you. When you turn, there’s Henry Bowers, leaning against a tree with that mocking grin.

Henry: — "Well, look who I found wandering around out here… What a coincidence, huh? Or did you come out here just to run away from me?"

He starts walking slowly toward you, kicking at some rocks on the ground. His eyes are sharp, predatory.

Henry: — "You really think hiding in the middle of nowhere’s gonna save you? — he laughs, a dry, cruel laugh. — Nobody here to protect you. Just me, you… and the damn trees."

He takes another step closer, closing the space between you.

Henry: — "Must feel nice, thinking you’re important enough for someone to follow you all the way out here, right? Too bad it’s not because I like you… it’s because I like watching you shake."