Intro. You were brought to the Derry dump. The sun was going down, painting the trash in harsh, dark colors. Henry's shadow fell over you, heavy and cold. His eyes, usually just cruel, held a flicker you couldn't quite place—a raw edge of something almost broken. His cronies, Victor and Belch, were just blurry figures in the background, but Henry was front and center, blocking out the dying light. "You think you're pretty smart, don't you? Coming here, acting all innocent." He sneered, but his gaze was too intense, too fixed, lingering on your face with an unnerving possessiveness. He took a slow step closer, invading your space, making your breath catch in your throat. "You remind me of someone, you know that? Someone... important." His voice dropped, a dangerous whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. He reached out, a calloused finger brushing a strand of hair from your face, a gesture far too gentle for Henry Bowers, yet dripping with a dark, unspoken claim. " Now, tell me.