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The alarms blearing made it hard to see where he ran.
Something is coming. Something big.
It’s easy to get lost in the maze of the building. When your sense of sight and hearing, two of your five senses that allow survival, are assaulted to death, it is easy to keep stumbling into walls. Lights flashed, most likely due to a damaged power circuit, only showing the sterile white hallways every other second. He stumbled around a corner with a hand pushing off the wall, leaving a handprint of sweat behind.
A shadow grows on the wall, swallowing you whole.
The elevator is calmingly cold to the touch and the number pad has the numbers engraved into them, making it easier to feel out which button to press amidst the panic. He keeps pressing the number for floor 0 over and over again, elevator doors not closing nearly fast enough for his liking. His other hand gripped the hem of his lab coat.
It’s almost here.
The scientist leaned back against the wall, heavy breathing loud enough to drown out the alarm for him. His whole body shook in a way that made him feel like he was about to tip over. For a split second he didn’t register the coldness on his forehead. Then he realised it wasn’t cold - it was wet. His breath stopped. His chin, slowly, tipped up to look at the ceiling. His glasses slipped further up his nose, framing exactly what he saw.
“What is it?”
“I swear to God, if it’s the Demogorgon…”
“It’s not the Demogorgon!”
The elevator doors finally shut, trapping inside his screams.
“It’s… the Demogorgon!” - The ravenette slammed the figurine down onto the board, earning groans from the other players. The boy hid his smile behind his opened book, gripping it harder in delight at their reactions.
“Shit!” - Dustin hid his face in his hands, knocking an empty bag of gummy worms off the table in his despair.
Mike composed himself, sitting up straighter from behind the book and pointing at the boy sitting across from him. - “Will the Wise, your action!”
Will was sitting huddled up in the dark oak chair with his legs tucked against the arm rest and a blanket over his shoulders that was actively slipping off. - “I–” - The boy’s throat tightened, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. His legs slipped off the chair, barely reaching the floor.
Lucas suddenly stood up, gripping his character sheet so hard his nail poked a hole through it. -“Fireball! Fireball him!”
“Cast protection!” - Dustin quickly cut in.
“Kill it!”
“Don’t risk it!”
Will slowly slid down his seat, socks skiing against the floor. The other two on either side of him kept yelling about what to do, getting louder by the second. He ended up sliding down far enough that only half his face peeked out from behind the table and his hands were gripping the blanket like a life line.
“Hey- hey!” - Mike raised his hands in an attempt to quiet them down. Going ignored he finally slammed them down on the table. - “Shut up!” - The two listened, avoiding the pointed glare Mike gave them. - “Hey, Will? Is something wrong?”
Will frowned, only slightly pushing himself up his seat. - “It’s... okay.” - He looked between Lucas and Dustin before looking down at the table. - “I have a bit of a headache is all.”
Dustin’s hand shot up to his mouth. - “Is it because of us? Shit.”
Will quickly shook his head, hair frazzled. - “I’ve had it all day. It’s why I struggled deciding what to do earlier when we faced that army.” - His gaze flickered down to his hands, playing with his fingers to ignore the stares of all three of his friends on him. - “But it’s okay!” - He quickly added when the silence lasted a beat too long for his liking. - “I don’t want to ruin the campaign.”
“What? No way, dude.” - Mike stood up, tucking his notes into his book and closing it, putting it down onto his chair. - “If you don’t feel good you should go home. We can meet up tomorrow after school!”
Lucas nodded. - “Yeah, there’s no point if you don’t have fun.”
The boy shyly smiled. - “Okay. I’m sorry.” - He also stood up, politely folding the blanket in his hands.
“Don’t apologise.” - Mike shook his head. - “Call Jonathan. I’ll tell mom you’re leaving.” - Will nodded, watching Mike give him a smile before running up the stairs.
Lucas and Dustin started gathering their things while Will walked over to the telephone under the stairs, dialing his brother's work number. He leaned against the wall, playing with the cord as he listened to the phone ring.
“Hello, this is General Cinema.”
It was his brother's voice. Will took a deep breath, looking down at his shoes. - “Hey Jonathan, it’s Will.”
“Will? What’s up, buddy?”
“You think you could come get me? I’m not feeling well.” - He gripped the cord. - “I don’t want to go back alone.”
Jonathan was silent on the phone for a few seconds before taking a deep breath that Will heard very clearly. - “Shit– okay. Yeah, okay. I’ll be there, just hold on, okay?” - Jonathan’s voice was shaky. Or maybe it’s just the static that’s making him hear things.
“Thank you.” - Will slowly put the phone back into the holder and pushed himself off the wall. He stared at the hand that rested on the phone before pulling it back when he heard Mike running down the stairs.
“Hey, mom said she can give you a ride home if you want.” - His friend gripped the railing as he leaned over it to look at Will.
“No, Jonathan said he’s coming.” - He softly smiled. - “But thank you for offering.”
“Sure.” - The ravenette smiled right back. Will’s chest warmed. - “Do you want anything? I’m sure we have painkillers or something.”
“I think I just wanna be home.” - He said. - “I’m sorry for ruining the campaign.”
“Stop apologising.” - Mike rested his full weight against the railing. - “Mom says she was about to come down and tell us to stop anyway. We can read a comic while we wait? Lucas and Dustin gotta go soon.” - He pouted as glared up at the stairs, presumably thinking of his mom.
Will giggled. - “I’d love to read with you.”
***
“Hey, Jamie?” - Jonathan stood in the doorway, looking down at his hands as he picked at his nails. His manager didn’t spare him a glance, making his heart beat faster. - “I have a, um, request.”
“What is it?” - The man flicked the ashes of his cigarette to the side, the office foggy from the smoke. Jonathan took a deep breath, the smell clogging his nose.
“I need to get off work. Now. An– an emergency came up.”
The silence that followed made the boy bite his cheek. The smoke was starting to get to his head. It might be the anxiety. His gaze finally flicked upwards to look at his manager through his bag.
Jamie started slowly tapping his finger against his desk, lowering his other hand to put his cigarette into an ashtray. - “Sure. What else do you need? Maybe I should give you a lift while at it? Pay you extra? Sign your papers to leave for you?”
“I’m sorry–”
“If you leave.” - Jamie pointed a finger at him. - “Then don’t bother coming back.”
Jonathan shut his mouth and stared, shoulders dropping. He stood in silence for a few seconds. Not because he was debating if picking up his brother was worth losing his job. But because he knew he was losing his job. - “I’m sorry.” - He repeated with a whisper, unclipping his nametag and putting it down onto the desk.
The man scoffed, waving him off. But Jonathan didn’t leave.
“...can I– can I at least get paid for the week I worked?”
The glare that was shot his way made him immediately look down. - “On what basis do you think you can ask for something like that? You don’t have a contract. You want to leave? Leave.”
And he was right. Jonathan didn’t have a contract. This was undeclared work, because despite his manager promising him over and over that they would sign one, they never did. The teen stared at his shoes a little longer before stiffly turning around and, finally, walking out, digging his nails into the palms of his hands.
Jonathan left the cinema with a deep frown, slowing down by his car. It was late but it was infinitely busy by the cinema as people loved going out with friends late at night. He leaned against the vehicle, rubbing his face with his hands. - “Shit.” - He breathed out. All this work just to not be able to earn a cent. He can’t even help mom with the bills. Can he not even do that?
The boy finally climbed into the car, gripping the steering wheel. Fine. Whatever. He’ll find another job. Even if it’s hard to. He’ll just take anything. The first thing that pops up. He will do it.
Jonathan finally turned the key and started the car, backing out of the parking lot and driving out, turning towards the woods. Technically driving through the woods took longer than through town but with so many people out and about it was ultimately faster. And calmer. Jonathan turned up the music, ‘Should I Stay or Should I Go’ playing. One of his favourite songs.
He tapped his finger against the steering wheel, in an attempt to calm his nerves. At least he wouldn’t have to lie to mom for a while now about being home when in reality he was holed up behind a cash register. His other hand reached up to run through his hair, elbow leaning against the window. It was empty on this street. And that’s how he liked it.
Something dark suddenly appeared in the corner of his eye.
Jonathan sucked a breath in, both hands flying to the steering wheel while he slammed his foot down on the breaks. The tires screeched against the concrete road and in a panic his hands spasmed, making the wheel turn sideways. He only stopped when he hit a tree.
“Fuck!” - He breathed out, knuckles white from how hard he was gripping the steering wheel. He stared at the tree bark in front of him, his headlights blinking. The Clash was still playing in the background.
Slowly, shaking, Jonathan moved his head to the radio before reaching his hand over to turn it down. His heart was threatening to break out of his ribcage with how hard it was beating. But he doesn’t think he hit whatever he saw. Probably an animal. Still, he has to check on it and, more importantly, the damage to his car. He reached up to turn on the light before opening the door, stepping out. He had to hold himself up against the car to not fall over from how faint he was feeling.
The road was quiet, save for the music quietly playing and Jonathan’s laboured breathing. He couldn’t see much. Just the darkness that stretched ahead, the sky growing ever darker. He could even see the stars. He slowly pushed himself upright, walking around his car with his hand still gently against it. It grazed over the abundance of rust. Looking out from behind the car, he held his breath, scared to see a dead animal. Instead, he saw…
Nothing.
Jonathan let out a deep breath, feeling weak all over again. He leaned against his car once more, running a hand through his hair. He’s lucky he wasn’t hurt. And very lucky he didn’t hit anything. Now his car… maybe it’d start up. He couldn’t be sure.
And one more thing. What was it that he saw in the darkness?
He tried to think while he calmed down. He could’ve sworn he saw some sort of big animal. As big as a human. A bear maybe? But in the light it seemed… white. A twig suddenly snapped, making him turn to the woods. Something was coming. Something big. He pressed himself against his car, wide eyes looking around. Something was moving in, closer, and closer…
And then he saw it in the flashing lights.
Jonathan jumped, turning around and running to the driver's seat, fiddling with the door before throwing himself in, slamming it shut. His shaking hand tried turning the key to start but the vehicle refused. He tried again, again and again. The light above his head started to shine brighter. - “Come on- come on!” - His voice was breaking. He kept looking out the window, to see if the thing was getting closer.
Closer.
And closer.
His hand suddenly stilled and his breath stopped. Staring.
The car went dark, the light bulb burning out.
And Jonathan wasn’t in it.
***
Will kept glancing at the clock, leg bouncing. Mike was reading a comic book out loud next to him, changing his voice for every character. Will wasn’t listening.
“Right? Will?” - Mike placed a hand on his shoulder, making the boy jump.
“Huh?”
“Will, what’s wrong? You’re pale.” - He raised an eyebrow.
The brunette hugged himself. - “He’s late.”
Mike hummed. - “Maybe he got stuck in traffic?”
“It’s been an hour.”
“Maybe he forgot.” - Will huffed, giving his friend a disbelieving look. - “What? My dad forgot to pick me up from elementary at least five times.”
“No way. Not Jonathan.” - Will’s leg kept bouncing. - “I’m worried.”
Mike opened his mouth to say something but the door to the basement opened, someone walking down the stairs. Will stood up immediately, hands up to his chest in hope. His shoulders dropped when he saw it was just Mike’s mom. - “Will? Are you sure your brother is coming?” - She gently asked, resting her hands on the wooden railing.
Will frowned. - “He said he would… maybe he got caught up in work.” - He mumbled.
“Your brother works?” - Mike raised his eyebrows, making Will cover his mouth. Whoops, he wasn’t supposed to mention that to anyone.
“Well, it’s almost eleven.” - Mrs. Wheeler frowned. - “Perhaps I’ll take you home and make sure you’re feeling well, okay? If Jonathan does show then Ted can tell him. I’m sure he’ll understand.”
The boy bit his cheek on the inside, looking between Mike and his mom. Finally, he nodded. He really did want to just be home. Maybe Jonathan was already there. Did he really forget? - “Okay.” - He reached down for his backpack, turning to Mike with a wave. - “See you.”
“Yeah, see you.” - Mike waved back, offering a small smile in support. Will smiled back before following Mrs. Wheeler back up. This wasn’t the first time the woman was driving him home but… Will felt uneasy. He hugged his backpack close to his chest as he climbed into her shiny, new, yellow car, buckling himself up.
Mrs. Wheeler was trying her best to lighten the mood, making small talk. Will only responded with hums or short sentences, staring out of the window at the buildings they passed. They drove through town before finally reaching their calm road home, full of tall trees that blended together in the night. He simply hugged his backpack closer.
They turned to the dirt path that led to their house and that’s when Will finally sat up, desperately looking around for his brother's car. It wasn’t there. His heart dropped, swallowing thickly. Mrs. Wheeler was equally as disappointed, taking a deep breath.
“Okay…” - She smiled, turning off the car and unbuckling her seatbelt. - “Let’s get you to bed. Are you feeling better?”
“No..” - Will slowly got out of the car, looking at his dark home with trembling hands. The two walked into the house, where Mrs. Wheeler looked around for some painkillers and set the kettle to boil while Will changed into his pyjamas.
The woman gently knocked on the door to his room, coming in with a cup of tea and a pair of tablets in her hand. - “Here we go.” - She gave a tight smile as she set the things down on the nightstand. - “Should I stay with you till Joyce gets back?”
Will stared at the steaming cup of tea before slowly shaking his head. - “Mom doesn't get back till two.”
“Oh.” - Mrs. Wheeler bit her lip. - “Well, if you’re sure. But call if you need anything, okay? We’re always here to help.”
Will didn’t answer. He simply reached to the other end of his bed and grabbed a plushie of a lion, hugging it close as he climbed under the covers.
“...” - She watched him with a concerned look. - “I’m sure your brother will come home, okay Will?”
“Yeah.” - He buried his face in the plushie. - “Goodnight. Thank you for driving me.”
“Of course.” - She finally left, leaving the door ajar. Will listened to her close the front door and sat still for a while. Finally he reached over to swallow the pills and grabbed a book, keeping his eyes wide open. He wasn’t going to sleep. Not until Jonathan got back home.
***
Will suddenly woke up, light streaming into his room. His book was open but lying against his stomach and his chin was covered with drool. He grimaced, wiping his mouth before pushing himself out of bed, turning to the clock. 6:37 am. The brunette shuffled to the door, slowly pushing it open.
The hallway was filled with the smell of eggs and bacon. Will’s heart beat picked up and he fully walked out, socks sliding against the ground to not make too much noise. Turning to the kitchen he expectantly looked around.
His mom was in the kitchen alone, looking over their breakfast while she yawned, clearly running on only a few hours of sleep. - “Mom?” - Will spoke up, making the woman jump.
“Will!” - Joyce turned around, sending a smile his way. - “My, my, you’re up early. What’s going on in this house?” - She laughed. - “One is sleeping in, the other is waking up early… it’s like the world turned upside down.” - Will didn’t laugh. Joyce properly looked at her son now, turning down the heat on the stove and slowly walking over to him. The boy was looking around, tears in his eyes and hands shaking. - “Will? What’s wrong, dear?”
Will knew Jonathan wasn’t in his room. He knew. The worst feeling truly settled in his gut. - “J-jonathan. Jonathan. He didn’t pick me up yesterday.” - He was crying now.
Joyce’s eyebrows raised, putting her hands on her youngest’s shoulders. - “What do you mean?”
“Mike’s mom drove me. Jonathan he was supposed to– he was supposed to but he–” - He choked on a sob, covering his face. Joyce moved away, suddenly just as panicked as Will.
“Jonathan?!” - She slammed the door open to her oldest son’s room. It was empty. The bed was unmade, the window was closed shut, the cassettes lay still, not used since yesterday morning. - “Jonathan!” - She kept yelling, running through the house and checking every door.
Will dropped down to the chair in their kitchen, loudly sobbing. His Jonathan was missing. Jonathan was missing because of him. If he didn’t call… Jonathan would be safe.
Jonathan isn’t safe.
***
“Well, well, well, look who decided to show.” - Lucas crossed his arms. Him and Dustin were standing side to side as Mike stopped his bike in front of them, getting off of it. They were by the school entrance, bikes secured to their stands.
“What?” - Mike raised an eyebrow, steering his bike aside. - “What’s with that look?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” - Lucas rolled his eyes. - “You were meant to be here, like, fifteen minutes ago!”
“Sorry!” - Mike frowned, mimicking Lucas’ pose. - “I got caught up!”
“Caught up doing what? Drooling at the chief’s daughter?”
Mike’s mouth fell wide open. - “What?!”
“You heard me!” - Lucas took a step closer, glaring. - “You’re so obvious!”
“I am not!”
“Guys!” - Dustin stood between them, a look of absolute exasperation on his face. - “Seriously? You two are fighting over some stupid girl–” - Mike scoffed. - “–and Will still hasn’t shown up! Does anyone know what the hell happened?!”
Lucas looked down at the ground while Mike shrugged. - “My mom ended up driving him home yesterday. His brother didn’t show.”
Dustin raised an eyebrow. - “That’s weird.”
“His brother is weird.” - Lucas mumbled, earning a hum of agreement from Mike.
“Nuh-uh. Remember when for Easter he hid chocolate eggs for us to find?”
“Yeah, like two years ago.” - Mike rolled his eyes. - “Two years ago my sister dressed up as an elf for Halloween. Yet you wouldn’t say she’s cool now.”
Dutin gave the two the most disappointed look he could muster, only breaking eye-contact when the bell rang. He groaned, worriedly looking at the empty space where Will usually put his bike.
“Hey, I’m sure he’ll show up. He’s just running late.” - Lucas reassured. - “I bet he slept in.” - Dustin shook his head before walking inside, not waiting up for the other two.
***
She stopped the car, taking a deep breath. - “Another wonderful week ahead of us. I personally cannot wait.” - The sarcasm in her voice wasn’t subtle, but it never was.
“Barb, come on.” - Nancy laughed, unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car. - “No reason to brood first thing in the morning.” - She watched her friend also get out, straightening her dress out while they walked towards their school building. - “We need to stop by the club real quick, okay?”
“Of course, reporter Nancy.” - Bard laughed at the look she received. The two walked down the hallway and steered straight for the photography club, which doubled as the school's newspaper club. - “How about you go ahead and I’ll stop by my locker in the meantime. You won’t take too long, right?”
“I won’t keep you waiting.” - The girl waved to her friend before the two separated, Nancy beelining for the room. She gently opened the door, peeking her head in to make sure she wasn’t disturbing anyone. When no one noticed her she fully walked in, walking over to the desk where the photos for the paper usually sat.
Nancy frowned when she saw nothing. She looked around in search of their photographer, slowly walking towards the dark room. She opened it without knocking, silently cursing herself for it, knowing how the people working in it would scold her. Except no one was inside.
Nancy gripped the handle before stepping out and closing the door, biting her lip in confusion. A girl passed by her and she quickly grabbed her arm. - “Hey, have you seen Byers?”
“Who?”
Nancy sighed. - “The photographer. He takes most of the photos for the newspaper!”
“Ooh. No, I haven’t. He didn’t show.”
“Oh.” - She let go of the girl, standing to the side, a bit lost. No photos for the newspaper was bad news. She slowly walked out of the club room, hugging herself. Not only was it bad news for the club, but Byers never missed giving the photos. He rarely stuck around to see how they were actually used, but he did fulfill his duty. Even when sick, she knows he somehow managed to deliver them.
This was weird. Really weird. Nancy walked down the hallway, a bad feeling festering inside of her.
***
Chief Jim Hopper walked into the station, cigarette in one hand and his breakfast in the other: a donut. - “Mornin’ Chief.” - His subordinate greeted him, earning a grunt of acknowledgement.
“Hop.” - Flo stopped him, grabbing his cigarette and putting it out with a pointed look. - “Phil Larson called. Apparently kids are stealing the gnomes from his garden again.”
“Tragic.” - He looked over one of the policeman's shoulders. He was playing cards, which seemed a whole lot more interesting than whatever Flo had to say.
“In more pressing news, Joyce Byers can’t find her son since yesterday night.”
“Uh-huh.” - He took out a new cigarette, already walking away from her. - “Will get on that in just a minute.”
“She’s very worried.” - Flo ignored his attempts to get away, following right behind.
“Mornings are for coffee and brooding.”
“Chief, I don’t think you understand, she’s already—”
“Coffee.” - He cut her off, opening the door to his office. - “And,” - Joyce stood up from her seat, cigarette already in hand, shaking where she stood. - “..oh jeez.” - Hopper closed the door, taking his hat off and throwing it to the side.
“Where have you been?!” - Joyce followed him with her gaze, pacing in the small office. - “I’ve been waiting for two hours!”
“Yes and I’m sorry.” - Hopper raised his hands in surrender, voice condescending. Joyce scoffed, taking a nervous drag of her cigarette. His hands dropped to the typewriter, sighing in annoyance at the knowledge he had to do paperwork.
“I am losing my mind!” - She snapped, waving her hands around.
“Tell me, calmly, what happened.” - Hop typed out a missing persons case.
“What happened is that Jonathan is missing and I have no clue where he is!” - She ran a hand through her hair. - “He was supposed to pick Will up yesterday. But he never showed up and a-and his car is gone and I have no clue where the hell he is!”
Hopper sighed. - “How old is he again?”
“Only sixteen!”
“Look.” - He rested his hands on the desk. - “Kid his age? Probably got caught up in a party.”
“No— no. Not my boy, not my Jonathan. He’s not like that.” - Hopper rolled his eyes. - “I’m serious!”
“You never know. My mom thought I was on the debate team when really I was screwing Chris Carpenter in the back of my dads Oldsmobile, so…”
“No Hop! He’s not like you— he’s not like me!” - Joyce leaned her hands against the desk. - “He’s sensitive! He doesn’t stay out late, he doesn’t ever cause trouble h-he…” - She shook her head. - “He’s quiet, too quiet. He doesn’t have friends, you know how teenagers are!”
“Joyce—”
“They’re mean! They make fun of him, his odd behaviours, his clothes—”
“Odd behaviours? What odd behaviours?”
Joyce shook her head in disbelief. - “Does it matter?!”
“It might.” - Hop shrugged.
She pushed herself upright, putting out her cigarette only to immediately light another. - “He’s not like the other kids. Lonnie– Lonnie used to be the meanest to him, called Will a fag, almost hurt Jonathan when he said something about it…” - She whispered the last part, resting her hand on her forehead.
“...well, is he?”
“Jonathan is missing!” - Joyce reminded, shooting him a look that could kill.
Hopper leaned back in his chair, looking the woman over. - “When was the last time you heard from Lonnie?”
“Uh, God…” - She slowly sat down. - “Last time I heard he was in Indianapolis, that was about a year ago?” - Joyce shook her head. - “But he has nothing to do with this! Jonathan would never contact him, not willingly.”
Hopper took a pen and a sticky note. - “What’s his number?”
“He has nothing to do with this!” - She repeated. - “You know this!”
The chief let out a deep breath, gripping the pen in his hand. - “Listen. Ninety-nine out of a hundred cases the kid that went missing is with a parent or relative.”
“What about the one?”
Hop’s eyebrow twitched. - “What?”
“You said ninety-nine.” - She pointed her cigarette at him. - “What about the one?”
“Joyce.”
“I’m serious!”
“This is Hawkins.” - Hopper furrowed his eyebrows. - “You know the most interesting thing that happened in the last four years I’ve been working here? An owl attacked Eleanor Gellespie’s head because it thought her hair was a nest.” - Joyce stared at him, lips pressing into a thin line.
“..fine. I will call Lonnie.” - Hopper opened his mouth. - “Me, Hop! Not you. He will talk to me before he talks to—”
“A pig?”
“A cop!” - She leaned against the desk again. - “You find my son.” - Joyce gave him a pleading look. - “Find him!”