(A/N):
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Jojo didn't need visions, sins, or prophecy.
He already knew.
'Richie Shepard.'
The name settled in his mind like a stone sinking into deep water.
'Dark Harvest's protagonist. The boy who runs. The boy who survives… just long enough to die. The boy who becomes the monster so his brother doesn't have to.'
Jojo's jaw tightened slightly.
"...."
Not this time, he thought.
'If I'm here, the script changes.'
Across the arcade,
Richie finally pulled away from the racing cabinet as two boys shoved their way toward him—
Loud, confident, carrying the reckless certainty of kids who thought bravery was something you could borrow.
"Rich!"
One of them grinned, clapping him on the shoulder.
-Grin
"You see the countdown? Whole town's buzzing."
"Yeah,"
The other added, eyes bright.
"This year's ours. I'm telling you."
Richie frowned.
-Frown
"Ours how?"
The first boy leaned closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing a secret worth dying for.
"You're gonna win it."
Richie scoffed.
"You're insane."
"No, listen,"
The second said quickly.
"You're faster than your brother ever was. Smarter too. Everyone says it—"
"Don't,"
Richie snapped, the word sharp enough to cut.
"Don't compare me to him."
The boys exchanged a look, then shrugged it off.
"...."
"...."
"We mean it in a good way,"
One insisted.
"This town needs someone new. Someone who doesn't freeze up when it counts."
They shoved a token into Richie's hand and dragged him back toward the cabinets.
"Come on. Warm up. Consider it training."
Reluctantly, Richie let himself be pulled along.
"...."
They rotated games—
Shooters, fighters, rhythm cabinets—
Laughing, trash-talking, pretending tonight was just another night.
Richie even smiled once or twice, caught up in the moment.
But Jojo watched what the others didn't.
How Richie's laughter faded faster than theirs.
How his eyes flicked toward the doors every few minutes.
How his shoulders tensed whenever someone mentioned Harvest—
Even as a joke.
Like it was something he must do and win.
Jojo stepped away from the Pac-Man machine and leaned against a pillar, arms crossed,
Watching the boy who didn't know he was already marked by tradition.
Richie had barely disappeared through the arcade doors when it happened.
A cluster of teens drifted toward Jojo—
Not loud, not bold like the others.
These ones moved with tight shoulders and darting eyes, like prey that had learned how to pretend it wasn't being hunted.
One of them—
A girl with cropped hair and ink-smudged fingers—
Passed him close enough that her shoulder brushed his arm.
Her voice barely existed.
"Follow us."
She didn't look back.
Jojo watched them go for half a second, then let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head.
"...."
'Kids playing detectives,'
He thought.
'And they're terrified of the sheriff.'
He pushed off the pillar and followed.
They slipped toward the back of the arcade where the lights dimmed and the machines grew older, louder, half-broken.
One boy jogged ahead and slapped a few bills onto the counter,
Whispering something to the bored attendant.
"Private booth."
A key slid across the counter.
The boy snatched it, moved fast, and unlocked a narrow door marked OUT OF ORDER.
He glanced back at Jojo.
The look said everything.
'Get in.'
Jojo raised an eyebrow, grin tugging at his mouth.
-Grin
"...."
"Well,"
He said mildly, stepping past them,
"this is either a secret meeting… or the worst ambush I've ever been invited to."
He entered the booth.
The teens piled in after him,
One nearly tripping over another in their rush,
And the door slammed shut.
The lock clicked.
-Click
Silence swallowed them—
"...."
"...."
"...."
Broken only by the hum of old wiring and the distant muffled sounds of the arcade outside.
A girl leaned against the door, breathing hard.
One boy paced.
Another kept checking his phone like it might scream at any moment.
Jojo took it all in calmly.
"Let me guess,"
He said, folding his arms.
"Officer Jerry doesn't like unscheduled conversations."
That got a reaction.
The pacing boy froze.
"...."The girl by the door swallowed.
-Gulp
Someone muttered,
"Told you he'd know. He must be somekind of Goverment Agent."
The cropped-hair girl finally turned to face him.
"You're not from here,"
She said.
"And Jerry's been circling the entire settlement all evening. Anyone who talks to outsiders too long gets… questions."
Her eyes lifted to his.
"And people who ask the wrong questions don't stay."
Jojo's smile faded—
Not into anger, but into something sharper.
"Good,"
He said quietly.
"That means you already know this town isn't normal."
The booth felt smaller suddenly.
Outside, a siren wailed once—
Brief, distant.
Inside, the teens waited.
And for the first time that night,
Jojo knew they weren't just curious kids anymore.
They were scared.
The boy who seemed to be the center of the group—
Tall, nervous, trying very hard to look braver than he felt—
Stepped forward.
"Are you…,"
He hesitated, lowering his voice even more,
"some kind of government agent?"
The others leaned in, hope flickering in their eyes.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Jojo shook his head.
Just once.
The disappointment hit instantly.
Shoulders slumped.
One of them muttered,
"Figures."
Another let out a breath like he'd been holding it for years.
-Sigh
"All the movies lie,"
The pacing boy said bitterly.
"Thought someone from outside would finally come looking."
Jojo laughed—
-Haha
Soft, not mocking.
"...."
"Yeah,"
He said, reaching into his jacket,
"movies tend to get the details wrong."
He pulled out a black card and flicked it lightly toward them.
It slid across the small table.
DMC — DEVIL MAY CRY
Supernatural Threat Containment & Eradication
The teens stared at it.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Silence stretched.
The cropped-hair girl picked it up first, turning it over, reading every word twice.
Her eyes widened—
Not with disbelief,
But with something dangerously close to excitement.
"Wait,"
She whispered.
"You're not cops. You're not government."
She looked up at Jojo slowly.
"You hunt… monsters?"
Jojo tilted his head.
"Among other things."
That did it.
Her face lit up like someone had just turned the power back on.
She grabbed the lead boy by the sleeve.
"I told you. I told you someone would come who wasn't blind."
The boy blinked.
"You're saying he could—"
"—kill it,"
She finished for him, eyes blazing.
"End Harvest Night. Save this place."
Jojo watched them carefully now.
Hope was dangerous.
In towns like this, it got people killed.
"Slow down,"
He said calmly.
"Before you decide I'm your miracle, you tell me exactly what monster you're talking about."
The booth went quiet again—
"...."
"...."
"...."
But this time, it was heavy.
The lead boy swallowed.
-Gulp
"You know Harvest Night,"
He said.
"The town festival. The rules. The chase."
Jojo nodded.
-Nod
"I've heard whispers. Just now... outside all the boys were whispering excitedly."
The boy's jaw tightened.
"...."
"It's not a game. It's not tradition."
His voice dropped.
"It's a sacrifice."
One of the younger teens spoke up, barely audible.
"Every year… many dies. Or worse."
The cropped-hair girl clenched her fists.
"They say killing the monster earns you a way out. A golden ticket."
Jojo's eyes darkened even though he knew he really can't take those parents who were sending their sons to kill a monster.
So they could become rich.
But the kid who had his hope high crushed by the cop and the farmer who would kill them and transform them into a another monster for next year harvest.
"...."
"And the monster?"
He asked to keep up with the flow.
"What does it look like?"
No one answered immediately.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Then the girl whispered, almost reverently,
"A walking scarecrow. A pumpkin head. Corn husk body."
She met Jojo's gaze.
"They call him Sawtooth Jack."
The name settled in the air like a curse.
Jojo exhaled slowly.
He straightened.
"All right,"
He said.
"Here's what's going to happen."
Every pair of eyes locked onto him.
"You're going to tell me everything—rules, dates, who enforces it, who disappears when they talk too much."
A faint, dangerous smile touched his lips.
"And then,"
He added quietly,
"we're going to see if this town's monster bleeds like everything else."
The booth felt smaller as the kids started talking.
Like the walls were leaning in to listen.
The lead boy swallowed and spoke first.
"They don't tell us everything at once. They never do. You only learn the rules when it's already too late to back out."
He looked at the others, then back to Jojo.
"Harvest Night is for boys only. Seventeen and up. Doesn't matter if you're ready or not."
The girl continued, her voice steadier but colder.
"Three days before Harvest Night, the sheriff comes. Jerry Ricks. Always him. Always smiling like he's doing you a favor."
Her jaw tightened.
"...."
"They come to your house and say it's 'for your own safety.'"
Another boy laughed bitterly.
-Hehe
"Safety. Yeah. They lock you in your room from the outside. Boards on the windows. Door bolted shut."
"No food,"
Someone else added.
"No water. Three days. You scream, nobody answers. You bang on the walls, they just turn the radio up."
Jojo didn't interrupt.
"...."
He didn't need to.
He could already smell the sin clinging to the town like rot in wet corn.
"The night of the third day,"
The lead boy went on,
"they unlock the doors. Give you a knife. Sometimes a bat. Sometimes nothing."
"And then they tell you to run,"
The girl said remembering her brother who died last harvest with a sad look.
Her hands shook now, but she didn't stop.
"They ring the church bell. Once. That's when it starts."
Jojo's eyes narrowed.
-Frown
"Church bell."
All of them nodded.
-Nod
"Sawtooth Jack comes out of the fields,"
One whispered.
"Corn parts for him like it knows his name."
Another kid rubbed his arms.
"You hear him before you see him. That scraping sound. Like metal on bone. Like teeth being dragged across wood."
Their voices overlapped now, fear spilling out.
"He wears a pumpkin for a head—"
"—but it's not hollow—"
"—there's something alive inside—"
"—and he smiles—"
Silence snapped back into place.
Jojo leaned against the wall, arms crossed.
"And the one who 'wins'?"
The girl hesitated.
"They say,"
She said carefully and again like it was deeply imprinted in her mind,
The reward which choose her parents to sent her brother do die.
"if you kill Sawtooth Jack, you earn your freedom. A golden ticket. You get to leave town. New life. No Harvest ever again."
She scoffed.
"Funny thing is—nobody ever sees those winners again."
Jojo's gaze sharpened.
"And the ones who ask questions?"
The lead boy's face went pale.
"They disappear,"
He said.
"After talking to Sheriff Jerry."
A pause.
"Sometimes they're said to have 'run away.' Sometimes there's an accident. Car crash. Farm equipment. Once… a hanging."
The town wasn't feeding a monster.
It was recycling one.
He straightened slowly.
Jojo closed his eyes for a second.
Then he opened them.
"You guys didn't kill a monster,"
He said calmly.
"You crowned one."
The words hit harder than a scream.
The kids stared at him.
"What… do you mean?"
The girl asked.
Jojo met her gaze, unflinching.
"Sawtooth Jack isn't summoned. He's chosen."
Their breaths caught.
"The boy who kills him doesn't escape,"
Jojo continued.
"He becomes the next Sawtooth Jack. Body broken. Soul chained. Bound to the harvest until someone else takes his place."
A shudder ran through the booth.
"Oh God,"
One of them whispered.
"That means—"
"Yes,"
Jojo said softly.
"This town has been sacrificing its sons for generations."
He pushed off the wall and stepped closer.
"And Sheriff Jerry?"
He added.
"The pastor. The elders. They're not afraid of the harvest."
His eyes burned with quiet fury.
"They're its priests."
No one spoke.
"...."
"...."
"...."
Then the girl clenched her fists.
"It's in three days,"
she said.
"They'll lock the boys in. My brother too."
She looked at Jojo like he was the last solid thing in a collapsing world.
"Can you stop it?"
Jojo didn't answer right away.
Instead, he took the DMC card back from the table and slid it into his pocket.
Then he smiled—
Not kind, not cruel.
Certain.
"Yeah,"
He said.
"But we're not playing by their rules."
He turned toward the door.
"Go home. Act normal. Don't tip anyone off."
Jojo didn't linger after the kids slipped out of the arcade.
He walked back through the quiet streets alone,
The town wearing its peaceful mask again—
Porch lights on, windows glowing warm, cornfields whispering in the wind.
A place that looked like it prayed before dinner and slept without fear.
A lie.
Back at the old man's house,
Jojo went straight to his room and shut the door behind him.
He didn't sit.
Instead, he sent a single message.
Jojo: My room. Now.
One by one, they arrived.
Inadu first—
Silent as a shadow, eyes already sharp.
Caroline next, arms folded, reading Jojo's expression before he even spoke.
Gayathri followed, curiosity and unease mixed in her gaze.
Debbie came last, closing the door softly behind her, her face tense.
The room felt heavier the moment they were all inside.
Jojo exhaled slowly.
"Alright. This town is worse than it looks."
Caroline tilted her head.
"That bad?"
Jojo let out a humorless chuckle.
-Chuckle
"They're not just hiding something. They're feeding something."
He walked to the window, staring out at the dark cornfields.
"There's a ritual here called the Harvest. Every year, teenage boys are locked up for three days. No food. No water. Then they're released to hunt a monster."
Debbie's brow furrowed.
-Frown
"A demon?"
"No,"
Jojo said quietly.
"A crown."
Everyone turned to him.
"The thing they call Sawtooth Jack isn't summoned,"
He continued.
"It's made. The boy who kills it becomes the next one. Soul stripped, body reshaped, bound to the harvest."
Gayathri inhaled sharply.
"So the town survives by sacrificing its own children."
"Yes,"
Jojo replied.
"And they call it tradition."
Inadu's eyes darkened.
"Blood magic. Cyclical. Sustained by belief and fear."
Jojo nodded.
-Nod
"And it doesn't stop there."
He turned back to them.
"The harvest isn't just about the monster. The deal gives them full fields, no disease, no famine. Crops never fail. People stay healthy. Accidents are rare."
Caroline's jaw tightened.
"A demon bargain."
"Exactly,"
Jojo said.
"And bargains like that always have a broker."
Debbie swallowed.
-Gulp.
"The priest?"
Jojo's gaze sharpened.
"The priest. The sheriff. The elders. But the priest especially."
Inadu crossed her arms.
"You think he's connected to Father Sal."
Jojo replied.
"I feel it."
The room fell silent.
"...."
"...."
"...."
"Might be the demon behind was somehow connected to them."
Gayathri frowned.
-Frown
"And the demon behind this?"
Jojo finally sat on the edge of the bed.
"We have three days before Harvest Night,"
He said.
"When that bell rings, they expect boys to die."
He looked at each of them in turn.
"That's not happening."
Caroline's lips curved into a familiar, dangerous smile.
"So we break the cycle."
Gayathri nodded, determination settling in.
They need to first find out the main culprits behind the scene and their total numbers.
In order to not miss any one who might escape.
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(Author's POV)
(A/N): Hey Guys Is Any Body saw IT welcome to Derry.
So Pennywise is going to return in our fic. Soon...
Thanks for reading the chapter!
Please give a review and power stone!!!