America Horror : Demon never sleep.

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The next day.

After a full night's rest, the group returned to the dry well at the clown's old house.

Compared to yesterday, their expressions were much steadier.

On one hand, Bill had told them about Soren's devastating slash inside the mirror maze, giving them a new appreciation for his strength.

On the other, Mike's "Chud Ritual," researched over more than twenty years, had given them the courage to finally face their fear.

"Soren, what do we do now?"

Bill, normally the group's leader, turned to Soren for instructions.

"I'll send you all down."

Soren picked up Bill and another man without ceremony and jumped straight into the well.

A short while later, he climbed back up.

After a few trips, only Beverly remained at the top.

She stood at the edge, brushing a few strands of hair from her face as she looked at Soren with a half-joking smile.

"What? No special treatment for a lady?"

"Of course there is."

Soren stepped forward and scooped her up in a princess carry.

"Hold on tight."

He gave the quiet warning, then leapt into the well with her in his arms.

The space at the bottom was already cramped. Once Soren set Beverly down, it became even tighter. Still, knowing the clown problem was nearly over, nobody complained. The mood was noticeably lighter than before.

"What now?" someone asked.

Soren didn't answer. He simply raised his hand.

A strange, leather-covered flask with a trapezoid shape appeared in his palm.

This was the vessel Mike had given him yesterday.

Each of its four sides was carved with different ancient patterns. Both the material and craftsmanship clearly didn't belong to this era.

"This is the container for the Chud Ritual," Soren said.

"Throw your tokens inside, then light it."

Without hesitation, everyone dropped their personal items into the flask — the paper boat, postcards, the inhaler, and the rest.

Once everything was inside, Soren nodded at Bill. Bill struck a match and tossed it in.

Whoosh—

Flames rose from the mouth of the flask, giving off a faint warmth.

They gathered around it and waited.

"Hey, Mike. How long is this busted flask supposed to burn?" one of them eventually complained. "Feels like the fire's getting smaller."

Mike scratched his head. "If someone hadn't thrown an inhaler in there, I think it would've burned out pretty quick."

Another person jumped in. "I also saw Ben toss in a rock—"

Right then, the ground beneath their feet cracked open.

There was suddenly nothing to stand on.

"Ahhh!"

They screamed as they plummeted.

Soren had sensed the collapse the instant it began, but the others were already falling before he could warn them.

Below was a vast underground lake with a massive stone platform in the center.

They were dropping straight toward the middle of that platform.

If they hit it at this speed, even if they survived, they would never walk again.

Two ghostly hands shot out from Soren's back. He caught the falling men mid-air and hurled them outward into the water, then used another hand to grab Beverly.

Splash! Splash!

Several bodies hit the lake.

Soren landed smoothly on the platform with Beverly still in his arms.

"I told you ladies get special treatment."

Beverly's legs were a little unsteady as she stood on the stone. She gave Soren a grateful smile.

The platform was an irregular circle. Around its edges stood a ring of massive, outward-leaning stone spikes. Beyond them, the water was pitch black and seemingly bottomless. Nothing moved in its depths.

Splash—

Bill and the others swam clumsily toward the platform, soaked and shivering.

"Goddamn it…" Mike spat out lake water and shot a resentful look at the completely dry Soren and Beverly.

"This is blatant favoritism!"

"Soren, that fall scared the hell out of me too. I could really use a safety hug right now."

Bill wiped water from his face and joked, "Face reality. If you looked like Beverly, maybe he would've caught you too."

They traded a few lighthearted jabs to shake off the terror of the fall.

But Bill quickly noticed something was wrong.

"What the hell is this place? Where's the clown?"

At that moment, an orange glow lit up from above.

They looked up.

The hole they had fallen through had widened into a fleshy tunnel lined with teeth and raw meat. Three glowing orange spheres descended from the top of the tunnel in a triangular formation.

Soren's expression stayed calm.

These three spheres were the Deadlights — Pennywise's true form. An ancient, cosmic entity from beyond human comprehension. These three lights were only a tiny fraction of its power projected onto Earth.

As the Deadlights descended, red balloons began silently rising from the water all around them. They floated upward, swelling larger and larger until they all burst at once with a loud pop, turning into floating clown heads.

The heads drifted together, merging and twisting until they formed one enormous clown head.

Its face was painted deathly white. Its mouth split wide, lined inside and out with rows of jagged teeth.

"Surprise!"

The clown's voice echoed through the vast underground space.

The sudden appearance of Pennywise made Bill and Mike, who had still been recovering, scramble to their feet.

"Did the ritual work?!"

The giant clown head floated closer to the platform, staring down at its prey with a wide, mocking grin.

"Ritual? That was just a little prank, you pathetic little bugs."

Pennywise rolled its eyes — one looking at Soren, the other at Mike.

"Mike, did you forget to tell them what happened to the last group that tried this little ritual?"

The clown's smile turned vicious. Its voice came from every direction at once.

"Hehehehe… I killed them all. Not even a bone left behind."

The others' faces went slack with horror.

The ritual was a lie?

They had believed the Chud Ritual was their last hope. They had forced themselves to relive their worst memories just to gather the items.

And now that final hope turned out to be nothing but a cruel joke Pennywise had set up to watch them suffer?

Panic and despair spread through the group.

At the same time, another terrifying thought rose in their minds.

If the ritual was fake… then the person who told them to perform it — Soren —

Beverly suddenly whipped around and grabbed Soren's arm, her voice shaking.

"Soren… did you already know the ritual was fake?"

The others turned to stare at him too, anger and a desperate sliver of hope warring in their eyes.

Soren looked back at them and slowly nodded.

"Yes," he said calmly. "I knew."