Chapter Text
Eddie’s not sure what feels worse. The hunger gnawing at his empty stomach, or the fact that Steve Harrington has been tossing him hints since he first woke up and he can’t do a damn thing about it.
Eddie would love to get a chance with Steve; who wouldn’t, after all? Unfortunately, he knows that the prospect of a relationship, or even just a hookup, with Steve is off the table for him. Eddie’s been with a few men before, and would have been with more were it not for the unorthodox situation going on in his pants. Most guys (and even the one or two girls Eddie got with before realizing he was gay) took one look and ran for the hills. Eddie’s not proud of it, but the fact is that he values Steve’s presence in his life, and he’s not going to jeopardize that by revealing his secret and potentially chasing Steve off.
The hunger is its own beast. As the day wears on, it maintains a steady presence in Eddie’s gut. He tries one more time to eat in the afternoon, but he brings it back up almost immediately, and later that evening he attempts to down a simple glass of water, which he also fails to keep down for an adequate length of time. By the time that night rolls around, Eddie feels like his stomach has started collapsing in on itself from being so empty. He needs food, obviously, but he knows that anything he tried to eat would just have him puking his guts out again.
On top of that, everything he’s eaten since waking up in the land of the living once again has tasted slightly off. Eddie can’t explain how exactly, just a hint of something that makes him feel like he shouldn’t be eating that stuff. It can’t be spoiled or poisoned or anything; Steve has also eaten and drank the stuff here and he’s been just fine. Clearly there’s a problem with Eddie’s stomach, not the stuff he’s tried putting into it.
Bitterly, he thinks of the long nights he used to spend alone while Al was off on a bender; jacking cars and breaking into people’s houses for their valuables while shitfaced off of cheap beer and whiskey. He never bothered making sure there was enough around for Eddie to eat before he left, so Eddie spent many a night curled up in bed while his stomach ached and he desperately counted down the minutes to school the next day.
Al’s in prison now from what Eddie understands. Got busted for armed robbery not long after kicking Eddie to the curb and wound up in the State Pen. Eddie wonders if the news of his supposed death has reached his father yet, and if so, what he had to say about it. Probably that he doesn’t care, because as far as he’s concerned, his daughter died years ago. That’s what he always used to say to Wayne when the two would have visits; that he doesn’t know who this Eddie person is, he only knows his little girl Eleanor and she died years ago. Eddie can only hope the bastard had no say in what his gravestone looks like, because if it were up to him, Eleanor Jean Munson would be forever etched upon it.
Wayne wouldn’t let that happen, though, not if he could help it. He always uses the right name for Eddie; calls him “he” and refers to him as his nephew in conversations. He’s one of the only people who knows the truth about Eddie and doesn’t hate him for it. Thinking about it fills Eddie with a longing even more intense than his current hunger. He misses his life, he misses his home, and most of all, he misses Wayne. The one person who never saw him as a flunkie or a freak.
Maybe he would now, though, considering Eddie has become a proper freak. Steve swears that his new fangs aren’t even that noticeable, but Eddie knows better. He knows that the second any of the townsfolk saw him and his new pointy teeth, they’d all insist it was proof of what they knew all along; that Eddie’s a monster. A psycho, a weirdo, a freak. Some sort of unholy abomination that was never meant to exist.
Aside from that is the worrying amount of joy Eddie felt when he accidentally nicked Steve earlier. He didn’t like hurting Steve but he did like how warm Steve’s blood felt on his tongue; how he swore for a second it almost tasted good. Clearly there’s something wrong with him; a pit starts to form in his chest when he wonders if it didn’t jist start when he woke up yesterday and really he’s been wrong this whole time.
Maybe Eddie starving to death is for the best. The bats didn’t wind up doing him in but perhaps this is another chance to rid the world of a no good reject. Even his attempt to thwart Vecna’s plan wound up failing in the end; it seems he’s pitiful at anything he tries. Can’t be a proper girl; can’t be a proper guy. Can’t be a hero, can’t graduate high school. Hell, he can’t even keep a glass of water in his stomach. What a pathetic wretch he is. Maybe he should just go back to the Upside Down with all the other inhuman beasts. Rid everyone else of his miserable presence and live amongst the only creatures he’s worthy of the company of.
He wishes he could say that he’s sad to hear that Jason is dead, but right now, he can only feel relief. He doesn’t know what would have happened if Jason had gotten his hands on him, but he knew it wouldn’t have been good. He saw the look in Jason’s eyes when he was chasing him. He didn’t want to see Eddie arrested and brought to justice; he wanted Eddie dead, and he wasn’t above taking the matter into his own hands. Ironic that he thought Eddie was a murderer when he was the one who was ready to kill someone. Eddie wouldn’t do that; couldn’t do that. Couldn’t ever look another human being in the eyes as they died by his hand. Even if they had killed his significant other, Eddie isn’t sure he could ever go through with taking a life. Especially not now that he knows what it feels like to die. He would never wish that on anyone, except for Vecna of course. Yes, he’s quite excited to see Vecna meet his doom, but then again he’s not sure that the creep can even really be considered a human at this point anyway.
Neither can you, a voice in his head reminds him, but he shakes it off. Steve’s right, it’s just teeth. Certainly nothing worth getting worked up over. It’s not like Eddie’s a stranger to random changes happening to his body, although admittedly most of those he initiated himself. In any case, sharp teeth are nothing compared to becoming a complete psychopathic monster like Henry Creel did. Eddie’s no saint but at least he’s not killing innocent people for his own twisted pleasure.
Eddie’s stomach gives a pitiful growl as another wave of pangs rack his gut. This is about as close to torture as Eddie can think of; starving to death while bored out of your mind cooped up in a tiny cabin. Steve is the only thing making it bearable, but even he can’t completely cure Eddie’s lifelong desire to wander. He hates feeling trapped, always has ever since he was a little kid. Wayne would say that’s the makings of a true Munson Man, but most people just call it impatience. Either way, it’s starting to heat up beneath Eddie’s skin, stealing his breath with the sudden crushing oppression. He needs to get out of here, even if it’s just for a little while. He’s starving to death and his mind is screaming at him to stop sitting around and find something to eat, goddamnit. He’s not sure what he’d actually find to eat outside but it’d be worth it to look up at something besides wooden ceiling beams.
Eddie peers over at the clock sitting on the bedside table and he sees that it’s just past midnight. Steve is probably asleep, so Eddie might be able to slip out if he’s super quiet about it. Fortunately, he’s always had a knack for sneaking around undetected, so this feat proves relatively easy. He just re-enacts the many nights he’d sneak in and out of the trailer while Wayne was asleep. Sometimes he’d meet up with the guys; sometimes he’d drive up to Indie for the night and crash with a bunch of other queer people he’d befriended there. Sometimes, of course, he’d sleep with someone while he was there. A lot of the guys there weren’t interested in Eddie but some were. Wayne of course would’ve had an aneurysm if he found out about that, so Eddie had to be discreet. It’s serving him well as he carefully creeps through the darkened cabin, swiping what he assumes to be Steve’s shoes on the way. When he gets to the door he unlocks it with deft fingers and cracks it open just enough for him to slip through. He gently shuts it once he’s through, a shiver traveling through him when he’s hit with the cold night air.
In hindsight, he probably should’ve tried for Steve’s jacket, but he didn’t want to push his luck. He’ll be fine, he doesn’t plan on being out here for long; just long enough to quell the rising panic vibrating under his skin. He walks off in a random direction, unsure of where he’s going or what he hopes to find there. Being out in the woods reminds him of Wayne and the few times the two of them went camping. Eddie enjoyed it up until bedtime, which entailed tossing and turning in a sleeping bag on the hard ground while trying not to think of all the bugs that may be crawling around in the tent. The days he spent with Wayne were fun, though. Eddie would swim in the lake while Wayne fished nearby and grumbled about Eddie scaring his catch away with his splashing. In the evenings, they’d sit by the fire and tell stories, and Eddie would make Wayne roast a marshmallow for him because it always got burned when he tried to do it himself.
Eddie swallows back the lump forming in his throat as he once again thinks of Wayne. He’d thought of Wayne in his last moments, too. He can remember how badly he wished Wayne was there to hold him and tell him it was okay. He’s still wishing for it; wishing for his uncle’s arms around him, wishing to hear the familiar southern drawl as Wayne tells him that everything will be alright. Unfortunately, Eddie can’t have that anymore than he can have Steve. Maybe it’s a sign from the universe, and Eddie should finally accept that he was meant to spend his life alone. It’s only a matter of time before Steve and the others see him for what he really is and leave like everyone always does in the end. Eddie’s too loud and too strange to fit in anywhere; he’s some sort of fluke, a random aberration that the universe somehow spit out by mistake. How could anyone truly love something like that?
Mercifully, Eddie’s shaken from his self-loathing by a sickening thud followed by a car engine revving and tires screeching. Cautiously, Eddie creeps toward the noise, a strange but pleasant coppery smell beginning to fill the air. He makes his way through the trees until they part to accommodate a country road. As Eddie leaves the cover of the trees, the sight before him makes his heart sink.
There’s a doe lying on the side of the road; clearly having been hit by a car, but still alive. Her head is raised and her big dark eyes are wide and terrified as her twitching ears catch the sound of Eddie approaching. She wants to give in to her instincts and flee, but the best she manages is to flail around with her front legs. Her back half is twisted and broken; she can’t get up, and it’s only a matter of time before the severity of her injuries does her in.
Eddie swallows hard, his throat tightening at the memories of dying cold and scared in the unforgiving darkness of the Upside Down. He crouches down beside the doe and reaches a cautious hand towards her.
“It’s okay”, he tells her, “I can help. You-you’re not alone, alright?”
He’s not sure why he’s talking to the doe like she can actually understand English but it’s just seems like the right thing to do.
The Doe freezes in panic, her eyes wide as Eddie approaches. As he does, his mind conjures up images of being 5 years old and finding a half dead baby bird on the outskirts of the trailer park one day when Wayne was babysitting him. Wayne had instructed him to turn around and close his eyes, which he had. He didn’t understand until years later that Wayne had killed the bird to stop it from suffering further.
Eddie should do the same for the deer, he decides. She’s far beyond saving, and the only thing that awaits her now in life is more pain and fear. The only issue now is the matter of how. Eddie doesn’t have anything on him to use as a makeshift weapon. Careful of the deer’s panicked thrashing, he scrounges for something he can use to quickly put her out of her misery. As he examines the area around the doe, the smell from before gets stronger and stronger until Eddie accidentally smears his fingers on a bloodstained rock and brings his fingers to his face to examine them.
It’s the blood, he realizes in horror. Worse yet, when Eddie brings the fingers to his lips and inquisitively laps at the substance, the same taste from earlier is erupting onto his tongue in all its intoxicating glory. He hadn’t simply imagined that Steve’s blood tasted good.
Dazedly, Eddie sucks the remaining stickiness from his fingers. It tastes incredible but it does nothing to alleviate the burn in his stomach. He needs more, a lot more, if he has any hope of satisfying his hunger.
His body moves on autopilot, then. Zeroing in on the source of the blood and hurrying to the deer's head again. She barely has time to react before Eddie’s squeezing her neck against his chest and stomach and twisting with all of his might.
The snap of the deer’s neck shakes loose the haunting memory of Chrissy’s body contorting itself on the ceiling of the trailer, but Eddie shoves it back and sinks his fangs into the flesh. Something incredible explodes on his tongue; something better than he’s ever tasted before. Greedily, he gathers a mouthful of bright red liquid and swallows it back. It hits him at that moment that he’s literally drinking blood, but he can’t bring himself to care when the solution to his intense hunger pangs is right there in front of him.
Eddie doesn’t know how much blood a deer has in its veins at any given time, but it’s certainly sufficient to sustain a 19 year old human who’s suddenly developed a taste for it. There’s still some left oozing from the wounds in her neck when Eddie finally feels full. Once Eddie’s had his fill, he gently places the doe’s head and neck on the ground; her eyes are open, wide and unseeing to the stars twinkling above them.
He doesn’t know where she went just then; he has no recollection of being dead, so he couldn’t say. Maybe nowhere, but he hopes it’s somewhere bright and warm; an eternal forest for her to prance through. Eddie always liked to imagine his mom went somewhere like that; maybe the deer can find its way to her in the afterlife. Eddie refuses to believe there was nothing in those days he was six feet under. He doesn’t remember it, but maybe that’s just how it works. Or maybe Eddie was in Hell or whatever version of it exists. Whatever the case, he can’t let himself believe that his mom is just gone from existence.
Shakily, Eddie stands back up, peering down at the blood now staining his clothes. It looks like something out of some horror movie; feels a bit like it too. Like in Dracula, the one book from school Eddie actually read all the way through. Speaking of, biting a deer’s neck and drinking its blood sounds eerily close to the likes of Dracula himself. Dying and coming back to life mysteriously? Growing fangs and drinking blood? Eddie doesn’t know why he didn’t put it together sooner; he’s turning into a fucking vampire. It sounds absurd, but Eddie can’t think of any other explanation.
His next thought, strangely, is whether he should bother returning back to the cabin or just run away so Steve and the others will never find out what he just did. Thankfully after he gathers himself a bit more, he’s able to start thinking more rationally; where would he even go running off to right now when pretty much everyone in Hawkins would attack him on sight? No, his best bet is to go back to the cabin as quickly as possible; before Steve realizes he’s gone. He’s not sure what he’ll do about his bloody clothes but maybe there’s something lying around the place he can wear while he attempts to clean them.
He heads back into the treeline, but unfortunately he’d overestimated his ability to retrace his steps because he quickly realizes he’s walked in a giant circle and ends up right back where he started. With a huff, he pauses for a moment and attempts to get his bearings. He’s so focused he doesn’t register the sound of rustling leaves and snapping twigs until they’re right behind him.
Startled, Eddie jumps, his heart ready to pound out of his chest at the unexpected intrusion. Much to his relief, when he turns to look it’s Steve standing there, looking out of breath.
“Eddie!” Steve puffs out frantically, “oh my God, you scared me to death. I saw you weren’t there and…shit! You’re bleeding.”
“ ‘s not mine”, Eddie shakes his head.
Steve peers at him with concern. “Then who…?”
“A deer”, Eddie explains softly, “she-she got hit by a car and I could tell she was dying so I snapped her neck and then I…”
“Then you what?” Steve prompts.
“I drank her blood”, Eddie finishes, “and it tasted really good and now I’m not hungry anymore.”
Steve looks perplexed at the confession.
“Steve”, Eddie tells him frantically, “I drink blood now.”
“I’m sure it’s nothing”, Steve insists.
“Drinking blood and growing fangs is ‘nothing’ to you?” Eddie snaps.
“I mean, it’s weird, but I’m sure it’s not the end of the world”, Steve replies.
“I’m not”, Eddie huffs, “in case you haven’t noticed, there’s an evil telepath trying to destroy the town.”
As if his apparent vampirism isn’t bad enough, they also have Vecna to deal with on top of it. Eddie’s only like this because he tried to help stop the bastard, and it turns out that had been in vain. Not to mention, he’s still wanted for murder, so if anything he’s worse off than before. He wishes he’d never agreed to sell Chrissy weed in the first place.
“I told you”, Steve assures him, “Dustin and the others will figure it out. Now come, it’s freezing out here.”
“What’s happening to me?” Eddie asks softly.
“I don’t know”, Steve sighs, “but let’s worry about it somewhere warm.”
Eddie nods, a chill running down his back as a gust of wind rushes past. Apparently vampirism doesn’t stop you from feeling cold. He follows Steve as the other boy turns to head back towards the cabin.
“How did you kill the deer?” Steve asks as they go.
“What?” Eddie frowns.
“You said you killed a deer”, Steve reminds him, “do you have a weapon on you?”
“No I-I just kinda snapped her neck”, Eddie replies.
“Seriously?” Steve comments, “you snapped a deer’s neck with your bare hands? You’re stronger than you look, Munson.”
“I didn’t even really think about it”, Eddie recalls, “it just kinda happened…”
“Well, I’m not sure I coulda pulled that off”, Steve remarks, “maybe…”
A shadow moving through the trees up ahead stops them in their tracks. Eddie can’t really get a good look at it in the darkness, but he can tell it’s big.
“Shit”, Steve mutters.
“What was that?” Eddie whispers harshly into Steve’s ear.
“I dunno”, Steve says, “but we should get out of here before it…”
Evidently, it’s too late for whatever Steve’s suggestion was going to be, because the creature changes course and starts creeping towards them. Eddie’s estimate of its size had been correct: it’s long, gangly limbs give it at least seven feet of height if not more, its hands and feet tipped in razor sharp claws. By far the most unsettling feature is its head though. Its grotesque, bud-like head unfurling out into some ungodly mimicry of a flower covered in razor sharp spikes.
“What the fuck is that”, Eddie gasps.
“Demogorgon”, Steve replies.
“Demogorgons aren’t real!” Eddie reminds him.
“I know”, he shakes his head, “that’s just what Dustin and the others call it. Now come on, we gotta go.”
Eddie’s not sure that’s an option anymore. The beast can clearly move fast, even running it would probably only take a few bounds to catch up to them, and considering neither of them are armed with so much as a pocket knife, Eddie knows they wouldn’t stand a chance at fighting it. It inches closer to them, and Eddie braces for a brutal swipe with its claws.
“Aw fuck”, he can’t help but bark out, “not again.”
He’d already died once after being gored by Upside Down creatures, and he really doesn’t want to go through it again. Especially not since this time, it’ll kill Steve, too. Without thinking, Eddie grabs onto the other boy’s arm and squeezes. He can feel Steve tense as the Demogorgon stops a few feet in front of them, bending its head towards them slowly and deliberately.
“Shit shit shit”, Eddie hisses in terror.
He expects to feel the pain of the creature’s bite, but the thing freezes a foot or so in front of them. Suddenly, it bows its head as if in deference before immediately turning and sprinting off in the direction it’d come from. Eddie desperately tries to unclench his asshole as it disappears from sight.
“What the fuck”, is all Eddie can really say in response.
“That’s weird”, Steve replies, “why didn’t it attack us?”
“I don’t know”, Eddie says, “and I’m not planning on sticking around to find out.”
He urges Steve forward and they both jog off to put distance between themselves and the demogorgon. It takes another 20 minutes at least until they’re finally able to find their way back to the cabin, both panting with exhaustion as Steve slams the door shut behind them and quickly locks it.
“Shit”, Eddie murmurs, collapsing down onto the couch.
Steve comes to sit beside him, offering him a sympathetic look that quickly morphs into a concerned frown. Without warning, he reaches out and tucks a strand of Eddie’s hair back.
“Uh, Steve, what are you doing?” Eddie asks.
“Your ears”, is all Steve says.
“What do you mean?” Eddie panics, “what’s wrong with my ears?”
He springs to his feet and scurries into the bathroom, flipping on the light as he peers in the mirror. Sure enough, he pushes back his hair to reveal the flesh at the top of his ears has begun to grow longer and pointed at the end, like an elf, only instead of mystical and exptic, it’s just plain freaky.
“What is happening to me?” He wonders as Steve comes to join him, “what am I turning into?”
“I don’t know”, Steve admits.
“That thing, the Demogorgon”, Eddie sighs, “is that what I’m gonna look like when this is all over?”
“What? No of course not”, Steve assures him.
Eddie stares forlornly at his reflection, and he can swear there’s a few patches of skin on his face that look slightly discolored for a second. He hopes he’s just imagining that, and quickly ducks out of the bathroom so he doesn’t have to see himself any longer.