The night descended on Derry with a thick shroud, bringing with it dampness and a barely perceptible smell of flower seasoning. Alexander got an overnight stay in the same place by the river where he trained his abilities - under a spreading willow whose branches touched the water. The place was hidden from prying eyes and comfortable enough for a temporary shelter.
He sat with his back against the trunk of a tree and looked at the dark surface of the water. The stars flickered in the reflection, and his own face seemed ghostly pale in the moonlight. Alexander still couldn't get used to his new appearance - the absence of the usual scar he got in his past life. It made me feel like he was looking at a stranger.
"It's strange," he thought, touching his cheek. "How many years have I lived with this mark, and now it's gone. It's like they erased a part of my story."
The silence of the night was conducive to philosophical reflections. Alexander closed his eyes and tried to understand his situation.
"What am I?" he wondered. "What have I become during these months of traveling? A Person? A Demon? Or something average?"
He used to be an ordinary guy with very bad problems. Not robots, not girls, plans for the future? No, only drugs and poverty. But now... Now he killed monsters, made a deal with the Devil and traveled to fictional worlds.
"Is there a way back?" Alexander continued to think. - "Will I ever be able to return to normal life? And will I want to?"
To be honest, he wasn't sure anymore. Ordinary life now seemed fresh, meaningless. How can you be content with work when you hold the sword of the Elder Gods in your hands? How can you worry about a mortgage when you fought immortal monsters, demigods and angels?
"Maybe it's a curse," he thought. - "It's not that I'm forced to kill and risk my life. And the fact that I'm starting to enjoy it."
Indeed, the last battle with Gabriel gave him an incredible rush of adrenaline. The moment when he used the dissection of reality was amazing. A feeling of absolute power over space and time.
"Drug addict," Alexander understood. - "The power is a drug. And the more you get, the more you want to."
He looked at his hands. Pale, graceful fingers of a teenager. But he remembered what power they could carry. Electricity that can kill a dozen angels. A grip capable of squeezing the handle of a sword tearing reality itself.
"And what in the end?" he asked in the night sky. - "Will I become one of those Elder Gods the Devil was talking about? I'll turn into a creature that has lost its humanity for the sake of power?"
This question scared me the most. Alexander remembered how easy it was for him to kill in the last world. As naturally, he cut through the bodies of angels without feeling a drop of sympathy. Is this the way to divinity? Through the complete loss of empathy?
"Or maybe it's all about the goal?" he thought further. - "Those angels were enemies. They wanted to kill an innocent child. I defended life, not took it for nothing."
But the line between defense and aggression was thin. Too thin for comfort.
Alexander opened his eyes and looked at his reflection in the water again. Pale face, dark eyes with white dots shimmering in them. He looked... unearthly. Like a creature from another world.
"Maybe I'm not human anymore," he thought bitterly. "Maybe the transformation began the moment I accepted the Devil's offer."
But I immediately discarded this idea. No, he still felt it. I could still sympathize, be angry, rejoice. As long as these emotions are with him, he remains a human being.
"The main thing is not to lose yourself," Alexander decided. - "Power is a tool. But it's important how you'll use it."
***
The first rays of dawn began to break through the leaves, painting the sky in delicate pink tones. Alexander got up, stretched his stiff muscles and headed back to the city.
Derry woke up slowly and reluctantly. Rare passers-by hurried about their business, avoiding eye contact. The atmosphere of the city seemed depressing even in the early morning hours.
Alexander was looking for a library - there you could learn more about this place and understand which movie he was thrown into. After wandering the streets for half an hour, he finally found what he was looking for.
The Derry Library turned out to be a solid red brick building with high windows and an impressive staircase at the entrance. The signore said that it opened at nine in the morning - it remained to wait another half an hour.
Alexander settled down on the steps and began to observe the awakening city. And then familiar voices came to him.
- Hey, stutter! - someone's nasty voice shouted. - Where did you go?
Alexander turned around and saw a familiar scene. The same gang of teenagers who chased a full boy yesterday was now harasing two other guys.
One - thin, with a pile of blond hair, looked scared, but held on with dignity. The second one is the fat boy since yesterday.
- Let us go, - the blond stuttered. - We don't touch anyone.
- Aren't you touching anyone? - the gang leader, a tall teenager with cruel eyes, grinned maliciously. - And it seems to me that we need to fuck you up.
The hooligans surrounded the victims, cutting off the paths to retreat. A knife flashed in the hands of one of them.
"Enough," Alexander decided. "Whatever movie I'm in, I won't watch children being bullied."
He jumped off the steps and leisurely went to a group of teenagers. His appearance immediately attracted attention.
- Wow, - one of the hooligans said. - Look, what a handsome guy is coming to us.
- What are you, Gothic? - the other asked mockingly, looking at Alexander's dark coat.
The leader of the gang - Alexander remembered that yesterday he was called by some name - turned to him:
- Get out of it, freak. It's none of your business.
Alexander stopped a few steps away from the group. His dark eyes with shimmering white dots carefully studied each of the attackers.
- Bowers, right? - he said calmly, finally remembering the name of the leader. - I heard about you. They say you're the coolest in school.
Bowers straightened his shoulders, flattered:
- Yeah. And what?
- Otherwise, - Alexander took a step forward, - I think you're ordinary shit. A coward who can only offend the weak.
Bowers' face was distorted with rage:
- What did you say, bastard?!
- Shit. Weak, smelly shit," Alexander repeated with icy calmness. - And your friends too. A pack of cowardly dogs that can only bark in a pack.
Bowers pulled out a knife and rushed at Alexander. But he moved like a shadow - easily dodged the blow, grabbed the attacker's wrist and squeezed it.
The crunch of broken bones echoed down the street. Bowers crowed and dropped the knife.
- My hand! - he shouted. - You broke my arm!
- Oh, this is just the beginning, - Alexander replied coldly.
The other members of the gang tried to attack, but did not have time. Alexander moved too fast - a blow to the solar plexus to one, elbow to the nose to another, knee to the groin of the third.
After a few seconds, all four hooligans were lying on the asphalt, writhing in pain.
- That's what, guys, - said Alexander, sitting down next to Bowers. - If I see again that you offend someone, I'll break all your bones in turn. Very slow. Got It?
- I don't understand, - Bowers hissed.
- Now crawl out of here. And remember — I'll be watching.
The hooligans got up and, supporting each other, sneaked away. Bowers looked around all the time, holding on to his broken arm.
Alexander turned to the boys he saved. Both looked at him with an expression of reverent horror.
- Are you okay? - he asked.
The blond boy nodded:
- Thank you. I'm Bill. Bill D-denbro.
- And I'm Ben, - added a fat teenager. - Ben Henskom. I saw you yesterday, but I couldn't get to know you.
- Alexander, - he introduced himself. - New in town.
Something in these names seemed familiar to him. Especially Bill Denbrough. Where did he hear that?
- You're n-incredibly fighting, - Bill said admiringly. - Where did you learn?
- Here and there, - Alexander answered evasively. - And what are you doing here so early?
The boys' faces darkened.
- We're going to the library," Bill said. - We want to find out something.
- About what?
Bill and Ben looked at each other, as if deciding whether to trust a stranger.
- Children are missing in the city, - Bill finally said. - It's been a few months. The police are doing nothing.
Alexander had something in his memory. Missing children, the city of Derry, a boy named Bill...
"Just don't tell me that..." he thought with horror.
- Is your younger brother missing too? - Bill continued. - My friends and I decided to conduct an investigation ourselves.
"No," Alexander prayed mentally. - "Devil, not that. Anything, but that."
- What's your brother's name? - he asked, although he was already afraid to hear the answer.
- D-George, - Bill replied. - Georgie D-denbro.
Alexander closed his eyes and mentally wandered all the languages he knew.
"Bitch! His mother is! I got into the movie "It"!"
Missing children, the city of Derry, Bill Denbrough and his younger brother Georgie. Everything came on. He was in one of the scariest horror movies of recent years, where the main villain was an ancient space clown-orn.
"Devil, you bastard," he cursed to himself. "Did you have enough angels? Now you also make me fight with clowns!"
But outwardly Alexander remained calm:
- I see, - he said. - And what are you planning to do?