“Towns feed me. Roads deliver.” — Pennywise (Bill Skarsgård)
“Twenty‑three days? I’m early.” — The Creeper (Jonathan Breck)

The red balloon taps a storm drain as, miles away, a rust‑rotted truck coughs awake—headlights like open wounds, a vanity plate that never reads the same twice. Derry’s carnival lights flicker to a calliope tune that curdles into fan‑belt growls; cornfields bow as something heavy circles overhead.

The overlap hits: 27 years and 23 days colliding like knives. Cuts bite fast—windmills garlanded with balloons, a covered bridge shrinking behind a trapped school bus, a sewer grate that opens onto a barn that shouldn’t be connected to any street. Mirrors grin with teeth you don’t own; taillights smear red down a road that refuses to end.

Survivors try bait instead of prayer: helium lines along fence posts, scarecrows in clown paint, a map that stitches storm drains to backroads. Wings puncture balloons; confetti answers with teeth. Sound design gnaws—giggles through static, horn blasts on the inhale—while the truck door swings to an empty cab and the drain water rises like breath. Final sting: a balloon floats into the driver’s seat, the engine grins, and the calliope and horn harmonize.