If you’ve ever lugged around a copy of Stephen King’s It, you know the physical weight of that story is almost as heavy as the psychic trauma it inflicts on the Losers' Club. But as you approach the finish line—specifically the stretch from Stephen It book page 1098 to 1104 in the common Viking/Signet hardcovers and mass-market editions—the narrative doesn’t just reach a climax. It transcends reality. It gets weird. Honestly, it gets a little gross and profoundly metaphysical.
People often talk about the "Ending of It" as a singular event, but for readers who actually sit with the text, this specific sequence is where the battle for Derry’s soul is won or lost. It’s the second, final Ritual of Chüd. Bill Denbrough is no longer just a stuttering kid or a successful novelist; he’s a psychic warrior staring into the Deadlights.
What Actually Happens in the Deadlights?
By the time you hit page 1098, the Losers are deep under the city. The physical world is basically dissolving. This isn't a slasher flick anymore. King shifts the gear into high-octane cosmic horror. Bill is projected into a void where he encounters the "Macroverse."
You’ve got to remember that the creature we call Pennywise isn't a clown. It isn't even a spider. In these pages, Bill perceives the true form of the entity—an endless, crawling orange light that represents destruction and hunger. He’s chasing It through a space that defies Euclidean geometry. It’s exhausting to read because King writes it with such frantic, breathless prose. Bill is literally biting the tongue of the beast, a psychic tether that keeps him from being swept away into madness.
It’s gritty. It’s sweaty.
King uses the Ritual of Chüd as a metaphor for the power of belief. On page 1101, the stakes are stripped down to the most basic human element: the will to exist. Richie Tozier is there, too, acting as a secondary anchor, but the burden is primarily Bill’s. He isn't just fighting for his brother Georgie anymore. He's fighting against the idea that the universe is a cold, uncaring place ruled by a consuming "Glamour."
The Turtle and the Other
A lot of people who only watched the movies—especially the recent Muschietti versions—are totally confused by the "Turtle." In the pages between 1098 and 1104, the Turtle (Maturin) is a fading presence.
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Maturin is the creator of our universe (he vomited it up after a stomach ache, because King loves that kind of earthy-yet-divine imagery). By this point in the book, the Turtle is dead. Or dying. It’s a bleak realization for Bill. He realizes that the "Guardian" is gone, and he’s essentially on his own.
Well, not entirely.
There’s "The Other." This is a crucial distinction that casual readers miss. While the Turtle is a passive observer, there is a higher, nameless force that helps the Losers. This "Other" is the one providing the "juice"—the supernatural luck and collective strength that allows a group of flawed humans to hurt a cosmic god. Without this spiritual backing, Bill would have been extinguished the moment he looked into the orange lights.
The Controversy of the Ritual
Let’s be real. This section of the book is where King loses some people. The prose is dense. It’s hallucinogenic.
One moment Bill is a man in 1985, and the next, he’s a consciousness floating in a macro-void. Some critics argue that King let the "cosmic" side of his writing get away from him here. But if you look at the thematic structure, it makes sense. The horror of It was never just about a monster in a sewer; it was about the darkness of Derry itself. To kill the monster, you have to go beyond the physical.
You’ve likely heard the discourse about the "sewer scene" involving the kids. While that occurs near this chronological point in the narrative, the pages 1098 to 1104 focus heavily on the metaphysical showdown. It’s about the mental strain. The way Bill’s stutter returns as his grip on reality slips.
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The most striking thing about page 1104 is the sense of finality. It’s the "all or nothing" moment. If Bill fails his psychic bite, his soul is lost to the Deadlights forever. It’s high-stakes gambling with your own existence.
Why These Specific Pages Matter for the Ending
Everything that follows this sequence—the physical destruction of the spider, the collapse of Derry, the heartbreaking way the Losers begin to forget each other—hinges on the success of the Ritual of Chüd.
If Bill hadn't pinned It down psychically, the physical assault would have been useless. You can't kill a spirit with a silver slug unless you’ve already won the war of minds.
- The Power of Memory: Bill uses his memories of childhood to fuel his adult strength.
- The Cost of Victory: Notice how King describes the physical toll. They aren't heroes; they are survivors who are barely holding it together.
- The Role of Richie: Often overlooked, Richie’s presence in this psychic void is what prevents Bill from drifting too far. It’s the ultimate bromance, but with eldritch consequences.
Actionable Insights for Reading the Final Chapters
If you are currently making your way through these pages or planning a re-read, keep a few things in mind to actually enjoy the experience rather than getting lost in the "weirdness."
Slow down your reading pace. King intentionally speeds up his sentence structure here to mimic Bill’s panic. If you read too fast, you’ll miss the subtle descriptions of the Macroverse that tie It into the Dark Tower series.
Look for the "Other." Pay attention to the moments where Bill feels a "force" behind him. It’s King’s way of exploring the idea of a benevolent god that doesn't directly interfere but provides the tools for humanity to save itself.
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Acknowledge the fatigue. By page 1100, the characters are exhausted. You should feel that too. The length of the book serves a purpose: by the time you reach the end, you’ve lived a lifetime with these people. The exhaustion makes the victory feel earned, not cheap.
Contextualize the "Spider." Remember that the spider form described in these pages is just the closest thing the human mind can perceive without melting. It’s a filter. When Bill is fighting in the Deadlights, he’s fighting the real thing, which is much scarier than a giant arachnid.
The sequence ending at page 1104 is the bridge between the horror of Derry and the peace that follows. It is the moment the "Losers" officially stop losing.
Next Steps for the Reader:
To fully grasp the magnitude of what happens in this section, cross-reference the descriptions of the Deadlights with the "Todash Space" mentioned in The Dark Tower novels. This reveals that Pennywise isn't just a local Derry problem, but a multiversal threat that Bill Denbrough managed to wound through sheer, stubborn belief. Take a moment to re-read the transition where Bill enters the void; it is one of the most technically difficult pieces of writing King ever pulled off, successfully turning an abstract mental battle into a visceral, high-stakes physical confrontation.