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stranger-fanfiction-n-things · 1 month ago

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CHAPTER 6: THE MONSTER

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: We have the long awaited alley scene! (P.S. This is the outfit I picture Diana wearing except her hair is out, big and curly like Diana Ross)

Warnings: Homophobic and sexual slurs. Violence.

Word Count: 4245

Masterlist

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV

HUNTING & CAMPING

The Hunting & Camping store smells like wet wood, dust and metal. I examine the watermark stains on the ceiling and the thin layer of dust coating almost everything as I stroll down an aisle with different types of lights and lanterns. Different styles of fishing rods line the right side of the wall while taxidermies of beavers and bears line the left side. I peer behind a set of glass lanterns at the clerk standing behind the front counter. The bored expression on his face makes me wonder how many customers have come in since opening because Nancy, Jonathan, and I are the only people here on a Saturday morning.

I continue down the aisle avoiding the creepy taxidermies. It’s all bizarre. Not once did I ever think I’d be shopping at this store for weapons and traps for a monster I never knew existed in efforts to find my best friend who went missing four days ago. I hum along to the old country song playing in the store approaching a new aisle with hardware items where Nancy stands at the other end skimming through different sledge hammers. A set of nails catch my eye. They’re about five-inches in length and three-centimeters thick. I grab the set making my way toward Nancy just as she assess a sledge hammer in her hands. Upon sensing my presence, she turns toward me holding it up.

“What do you think of this?” she muses.

“Take it.” I reply, putting the nails in the shopping basket in the crook of her arm. Nancy nods her head adding the sledge hammer.

“Anything else you think we need?” Nancy asks, eyes darting between rows.

I turn toward the creepy taxidermies at the end of the row and squint at the set of items alongside the wall. I motion for Nancy to follow me as I walk toward a small section filled with various bear traps. A large steel trap catches my eye. It’s a perfect size to capture the thing and strong enough to at least cause some damage assuming it doesn’t have impenetrable skin. I’m not sure how much the creature can endure, but this should do. Jonathan approaches us holding a small gas tank and lighter fluid. I tilt my head to the side and turn to look at him. He makes a noise nodding his head. Nancy and I shrug. Sounds like a yes to us. I take the bear trap.

After a few minutes of grabbing a couple more things, Jonathan, Nancy and I approach the front counter, setting everything down. The clerk looks over the nails, lighter fluid, gas tank, steel bear trap, sledge hammer, matches, and flashlight, arching his brow in suspicion.

“And I’ll have four boxes of the .38s.” Jonathan adds. The clerk picks up four boxes adding it to the pile of items. He looks at the three of us, down at the counter and back at us. Three teenagers buying weapons on a Saturday morning is definitely a cause for caution. I try my best to look as innocent and unassuming as possible and put on my best smile, tucking a curl behind my ear.

“What you kids doin’ with all this?” The clerk asks. I look at Jonathan and Nancy not sure of what to tell him.

“Monster hunting.” Nancy answers.

The clerk scoffs ringing up the bill. I snort, covering my mouth with my hand. It wasn’t a lie, but I never expected her to say it. From the corner of my eye, Jonathan is trying to hold his laughter.

“Monster Hunting?” Jonathan says, as we all walk to his car carrying the items we bought.

“I can’t believe you said that, Nance!”

I help Jonathan hold the box while he opens the trunk of his car. Nancy smiles shaking her head, lifting the gas tank into the trunk. Jonathan and I carefully place the cardboard box in the trunk too.

“Last week I was shopping for a new top I thought Steve might like.” Nancy says. I remember listening to her gush to me on the phone about the shopping trip and the top she bought to wear to school. I had an impromptu rehearsal so I couldn’t go. “It took me and Barb all weekend. It seemed like life of death, you know? And now—”

“You’re shopping for bear traps with Jonathan Byers.” Jonathan teases, slamming the trunk closed.

Nancy looks at him and nods her head. “Yeah.”

“What’s the weirdest part? Me or bear trap?”

“You. Definitely, you.”

“We do enjoy your company though.” I tease, grinning up at him.

Jonathan nudges my arm and we all laugh. For a moment, it all feels normal. Like we are just a couple of friends hanging out on a Saturday morning. Not monster hunting or solving mysterious disappearances in our town. Normal. But I know this isn’t normal. Nothing that has happened the past four days is. Will this be my new normal? A car honks popping our bubble. I turn around to find out who is honking and what is going on. A maroon-coloured Mustang turns the corner and a boy who I don’t know smiles at us hanging out window.

“Hey, Nance, can’t wait to see your movie.” He laughs as his friend speeds off down the road.

“What the hell was that?”

Jonathan takes the words right out of my mouth. That boy was definitely someone who went to Hawkins High. How else would he know who Nancy is. How does he know who Nancy is? I frown, tucking a curl behind my ear. Hawkins High wasn’t a big school; it was the only high school in town, but it isn’t small enough for that guy to know who Nancy is unless…I rub my lips together feeling a sense of dread crash over me. Something is wrong. Nancy looks frantic, blue eyes darting in every direction. She stops, standing straight. I watch her eyes widen in realization and reach out to her.

“What’s wrong?”

Nancy whips around staring down the road. I turn around too trying to see what has her on edge. I don’t see anything out of the ordinary, only townsfolk walking to and from their destinations. Suddenly Nancy is sprinting down the road.

“Nancy? Where are you going?” I shout, running after her. “Nancy! What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“Nancy!” Jonathan shouts behind me. “Nancy, wait!”

I see it before I slow down to a jog, stopping beside her. It feels like a trapdoor is inside my stomach, opening wide enough for me to fall through. My hands fly to my mouth, muffling my gasp. There up on the marquee at Hawkins Cinema, is a big and bold sign premiering the new Tom Cruise movie, All The Right Moves, but spray painted in bright red letters it says “STARRING NANCY THE SLUT WHEELER”.

HAWKINS CINEMA

I’m trying to process the unbelievable sight in front of me, but my mind is struggling to reconcile reality. Nancy looks at me, eyes brimming with tears. I feel helpless and I don’t know what to do. Her eyes search for confirmation, seeking reassurance that what she had witnessed was not a figment of her imagination. All I do is stare back at her.

“Shit.” Jonathan gasps, staring up at the sign in disbelief.

Nancy’s breathing becomes shallow and I fear she is going to have an emotional breakdown. I rush to hug her squeezing her in my arms. Nancy squeezes back. I hear her sniffle and instantly my eyes start to burn as I fight back tears. I can’t believe someone would do this to her. Rage bubbles deep in my stomach. I am so angry; I can’t even think straight. From the corner of my eye, I notice a small crowd forming around us. Strangers stare at Nancy and I, some whispering in disgust to each other, others show more compassion, sending us questioning looks instead of repulsion. I stare up at the marquee again, reading the words over and over again until they are etched into my brain. Who would do such a disgusting thing like this?

A faint sound of laughter perks my interest. Nancy tears herself away from my grasp, frowning. She turns toward the sound and marches down the road to an alleyway.

"Nance?” I shout, scurrying behind. She continues down the alley her hands balled into tight fists.

I turn the corner and find Carol, Nicole, Tommy H and Steve Harrington, all laughing, watching Tommy spray paint on the side of a building. Red spray paint. Nancy stomps toward the group and Carol is the first one to notice her.

“Hey there, princess!” Carol sneers, smiling.

“Uh-oh, she looks upset.” Tommy teases. A lit cigarette hangs from his lips as he shakes the aluminum can.

Steve glares at Nancy. I don’t like the way he’s looking at her and walk behind in case something happens. What I don’t expect to see is Nancy’s hand connecting with Steve’s cheek. The slap is so loud, I can hear it from down the alley.

“Damn!” Tommy exclaims, taking the cigarette out from between his lips. He couldn’t contain the grin on his face even if he tried. He’s so disgusting.

Everyone gasps from the initial shock but soon Tommy, Carol and Nicole are laughing. I scoff in disgust. This is all some game to them. Steve clenches his jaw, giving Nancy the dirtiest look I’ve ever seen him give.

“What is wrong with you?” Nancy shouts.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” Steve shouts back. “I was worried about you,” he scoffs shaking his head, laughing bitterly. “I can’t believe I was actually I worried about you.”

Worried? About Nancy? Why?

Nancy shakes her head. “What are you talking about?”

“I wouldn’t lie if I were you,” Carol chimes in, smiling condescendingly. “You don’t want to be known as the lying slut now, do you?”

“Don’t call her that!” I snap, approaching the crowd. I stand protectively behind Nancy, glaring at Carol.

“Why am I not surprised to see you, Sinclair?” Tommy jumps down from the ledge, smirking as he takes a drag of his cigarette. He intentionally blows the smoke in my face and I back away repulsed. Tommy’s lips spread to a grin. “Freaks, perverts, now sluts. Always associating yourself with such garbage.”

My eyes narrow as I try to decipher the cryptic message. This is the second time this week Tommy has said something like that to me. Once before in the parking lot at school and now here in the alley. Who’s the freak? What is he talking about? I think back to Wednesday. Jonathan got caught with those disgusting photos in his backpack, Steve broke his camera. But Tommy mentioned freaks and perverts before all that happened. Who is he talking about? I am distracted by the wall behind Tommy. Written in large red letters is “BYERS IS A PERV”. I scoff in distaste. Carol notices where my gaze is and grins at me like the Red Queen in Alice in Wonderland.

“Maybe we should add ‘DIANA SINCLAIR LOVES ANAL’” she boasts. Nicole cackles beside her.

“Leave me alone!”

“Leave me alone!” Nicole mimics, pouting dramatically.

“Aw, sounds like Anal Princess is growing a backbone.” Carol taunts.

“Stop calling me that!” I snap, growing angrier by the second.

Carol arches a plucked eyebrow at me and tilts her head to the side smiling, clearly enjoying my reactions. “Or what?” she challenges.

“Speak of the Devil.” Tommy says flicking his cigarette against the wall. “Hi,” he waves at Jonathan. I have a strong feeling they were all waiting for Jonathan to arrive to start their antics.

“You came by last night?”

“Ding! Ding! Ding! Does she get a prize?” Carol mocks Nancy, but Steve doesn’t flinch staring down at her with such…resentment. What did he see to have such a vitriol reaction like this?

“Look, I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t like that.”

“What, you just let him into your room to…study?” I wince. I know enough to know that studying doesn’t truly mean reviewing school work.

Tommy steps in front of me and Jonathan. “Or for another pervy photo session?” He laughs as if that's something to laugh about.

I run my fingers through my hair trying to make sense of what the problem was here. Judging by Jonathan’s clothing it is obvious he stayed over at Nancy’s last night after our brief albeit traumatizing encounter with the monster. I know how much Nancy likes Steve; she wouldn’t jeopardize her relationship. But why was Steve at Nancy’s house late at night in the first place?

"I went to check on my girlfriend!" Steve shouts. I didn't realize I voiced my thoughts out loud.

"But what happened?" Nancy wouldn't do anything compromising.

Steve’s dark brown eyes grow icy and dark. If looks could kill, I’d be dead. “As if you didn’t know from the start, Sinclair!” He motions between Jonathan and I, scowling. “It would explain why you’re always protecting the pervert.”

“Excuse me? I’m not protecting anyone. I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”

Nancy shakes her head furiously. “We were just—”

“You were just what?” Steve whips his head back. “Finish the sentence.” He demands, stepping closer to her. I prepare myself to step between them. Nancy doesn’t say anything. I mean what could she say? Steve isn’t going to believe her. There’s so much he doesn’t know or understand yet he’s jumping to such harmful conclusions at the expense of her. The silence is loud between everyone. I watch the anger in Steve’s eyes slip to a look of disappointment. The wall is back up in a flash, but I saw it.

“Go to hell, Nancy.”

“Hey!” I shout, stomping toward him. “You don’t talk to her like that!” I feel someone pulling my arm away but I shake them off standing my ground. Steve has a lot of nerve embarrassing Nancy like this and I’ve had enough of it. I point up at him, the way my mom points at Erica or Lucas when they get in trouble.

“You don’t talk to her like that.” I repeat. Steve’s nostrils flare.

“You gonna let Sinclair talk to you like that, Steve?” Tommy interjects. Steve doesn’t respond, but I can see in his eyes, the wall he built crack and I catch a glimpse of hurt he feels inside. I blink putting my hand down. Steve’s hurt. Genuinely hurt by all of this.

“Diana, come on.” Jonathan says, pulling me away. “Let’s just leave—”

“You know what, Byers?” Steve speaks. “I’m actually kind of impressed. I always took you for a queer.” I try to turn around but Jonathan’s grasp on my arm is almost iron clad as he guides me and Nancy away from the situation. I can’t believe Steve would say that, knowing the implications of that word especially in a small town like this. Steve pushes Jonathan. “I guess you’re just a little screw-up like your father. That house is full of screw-ups. I guess I shouldn’t really be surprised.”

Jonathan stops walking. I can hear him panting angrily behind me, his grip on me tightens and I wince. Jonathan immediately removes his hand on me and I turn grabbing his arm, looking into his eyes. Anger radiates off him, I can feel it. I don’t want him to stoop down to their level. He’s better than that.

“Don’t listen to him, Jonathan.” I plead, tugging on his arm. “Let’s go.”

“This is rich!” Tommy shouts. “First, I seen you talking to that freak of nature and now you’re back defending this pervert.”

My eyes widen slightly and my heartbeat picks up speed. Eddie. Tommy is talking about Eddie. I was talking to him by my lockers and we ate lunch together in his van…was Tommy watching us the entire time? How did I not notice? I press my lips together feeling the rage inside my stomach bubble and rise. Eddie is not a freak. Tommy doesn’t even know him the way I do. He has no right to call him that especially when Eddie hasn’t done anything to warrant such a name. Between Tommy and Officer Callahan, even Principal Higgins, I don’t understand why they think so badly about him.

“You get off on weirdos, Sinclair? Is that your thing?”

“You’re disgusting!” I yell.

Nancy tugs my arm. “Diana, let’s go. He’s an idiot.”

“Your mom!” Steve continues, pushing Jonathan again. He stumbles into me. “I’m not even surprised what happened to your brother. I’m sorry I have to be the one to say it—”

“Steve, shut up!” Nancy yells.

“That’s right, keep walking away, Sinclair!”

“But the Byers? Their family, it’s a disgrace to the entire—”

Jonathan swings punching Steve in the face. Everyone is stunned to silence, even Tommy. I shriek, jumping out the way when Steve tackles Jonathan onto the car. They tussle until Steve grabs Jonathan by the jacket throwing him to the ground. The sound of Jonathan’s head knocking against the asphalt makes me sick to my stomach.

“Steve!” Nancy shouts. “Steve, stop it!”

“Knock it off!” Carol adds.

“Tommy! Get in there and make them stop!” Nicole shouts.

“C’mon, Steve!” Tommy encourages. “Kick his ass man!”

My hands tremble with repressed fury and I curl my fingers into tight fists. I’m so sick of Tommy and his stupid male bravado. Steve climbs on top of Jonathan and starts to punch him in the face delivering heavy blows. No one is doing anything to stop it so I rush over to try to get him off Jonathan. Steve pulls his arm back narrowly missing my face and I scream, stumbling backward.

“Diana!” Nancy screams.

Steve looks back at me and it’s enough for Jonathan to get the upper hand. He punches Steve knocking him to the ground. The sound of skin hitting skin is too much for me to handle. I feel someone grab my waist, hoisting me away.

“Are you crazy, Sinclair?” Tommy exclaims. “Trying to break up a fight between two men.” He unfortunately has a point but I’m too angry to care. I struggle against him, pushing him away.

Jonathan and Steve are both standing, faces bloody and bruised. Jonathan swings landing a vicious punch that has Steve stumbling backward. I have never seen Jonathan like this before. So full of rage. Each punch is heavy and forceful, like he’s finally allowing himself to feel all the emotions he tried so hard to hide. His father coming back to town, Will's funeral, having to take care of Miss Byers. Steve ignited a rage so deep; I know he doesn’t have the stamina or skills to hold up on his own. Tommy must have noticed it too because he charges at Jonathan pushing him away. He raises his fist to attack Jonathan but Steve pushes him away.

“Get out! Get out of here!”

Tommy reluctantly moves out of the way and Jonathan swings again, but this time Steve sees it coming and ducks, sucker punching Jonathan in the nose.

“Stop it!” I shout.

Neither boy listen. Jonathan lands a punch so loud I scream. Steve stumbles backward dazed and confused. He trips over his foot falling to the pavement. I watch Jonathan climb on top of Steve and start beating his face in. A sickening wave of terror wells up from my stomach. Jonathan is going to kill Steve if he doesn’t stop. Frightened tears spill from my eyes.

“Jonathan! Stop it! You’re gonna kill him!”

I rush toward the boys again reaching out to grab Jonathan’s shirt. Tommy grabs me so fast I trip on my foot falling rather ungracefully into him.

“Jesus Christ, Sinclair! Stop doing that!”

“Let go of me!”

“Shit! The cops!” Tommy exclaims. He pushes me aside charging toward Jonathan and Steve to pry them apart. “He’s had enough! Goddammit! I said he’s had enough!”

Carol and Nicole flee just as Officer Callahan and Officer Powell jump out the car. Officer Callahan reaches out to grab Jonathan just as his arm recoils back hitting him. He curses falling back against the car, holding his nose. Tommy pulls Steve up, dragging him past me and down the alley. Officer Powell pulls Jonathan away slamming him on top the car. He is in handcuffs before I can blink. Officer Callahan runs after Steve and Tommy as Officer Powell shoves Jonathan in the back of the car.

“Diana! Are you okay?” Nancy rushes to me, holding my shoulders.

I tremble watching the specks of blood on the pavement, Jonathan bloody and bruised in the car, and lastly at Nancy. Tears brim my eyes. How did it get to this?

HAWKINS POLICE STATION

“Are you going to call our parents?” I ask Officer Powell as we reverse out of the alley.

Encountering police officers twice in one week is an all-time record. After Officer Callahan ran back with blood dripping from his nose. He told Officer Powell that Steve and Tommy got away in a BMW before he can catch them. Nancy and I had to squeeze ourselves into the back seat of the car with Jonathan and accompany him back to the police station for questioning.

“Do I need a reason to call your parents?” he responds, eying me through the rear-view mirror. I shake my head. “Then I’m not going to call your parents.”

I let out a breath. Officer Powell and Callahan I can handle. The wrath of Charles and Susan Sinclair are another story. The drive to the station is short since it is down the street from the cinema. I’m annoyed, Tommy, Carol, Nicole, and Steve escape, but Jonathan, Nancy and I are in the back of a cop car to be questioned. This whole mess started because of them.

Officer Powell and Officer Callahan escort the three of us inside. The police station is much more homely than I thought it would be. It smells strongly of coffee, donuts and paper. Several desks are pushed together in rows, with typewriters, a cup full of stationary, old cups of coffee and name tags. Two police officers stare at us from the far corner as we enter. A small, elder lady jumps up from her chair at her desk rushing toward Officer Callahan. I scrunch my nose in disgust at the dry blood between his fingers. Jonathan must have got him really good. The elder lady mumbles to herself about the dangers of working in the field, tending to Officer Callahan.

Officer Powell plops Jonathan onto a chair before radioing in Chief Hopper. My eyes widen. Chief Hopper? I don’t think he needs to know about all of this. Miss Byers has been through enough already this week.

“Wait here.” He instructs, walking away. Nancy and I share a look. How did it get to this?

I glance at the damage done to Jonathan. It’s not that bad considering. His lip is cut and there’s a horrific bruise darkening on his cheekbone. I pan down to his fists. They’re bloody, bruised and swelling. I can only imagine how Steve looks. The sound of skin hitting skin makes my skin crawl. I can’t sit here.

“I’m gonna get you some ice.” I mutter, walking away.

“I’m coming with you,” Nancy says.

The elder lady I quickly find out is the secretary named Florence “Flo” for short. She helps me with ice for Jonathan. Flo grabs a dish towel and scoops two handfuls of ice onto it.

“Do you think we’ll be out of here soon?” Nancy asks.

“You two, yes. Him? No. He assaulted a police officer.”

“It wasn’t on purpose.” I mumble. Flo gives me a stern look.

“Well, how long are you gonna keep him?”

“You and your boyfriend have big plans, do you?” I make a face. Boyfriend? Jonathan and Nancy?

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Nancy crosses her arms across her chest, laughing uncomfortably. Flo doesn’t look convinced.

“I think you better tell him that.”

“What?” Nancy and I say at the same time. Flo gives us both a look as if we were smart enough to tell.

“Only love makes you that crazy, sweetheart. And that damn stupid.”

Flo hands me the dishtowel and walks back to her desk. Nancy and I stand there for a moment processing. I scoff. Jonathan didn’t get into a fight with Steve because he loves Nancy. He got into a fight because Steve talked bad about his family, especially Miss Byers and Will. Nancy had nothing to do with that. Unless…I look at Jonathan again. Why else would he take photos of Nancy? Or even try to help us find Barb? No. It doesn’t make any sense. I shake my head scoffing again. Flo doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Yet, a small part of me in the back of my mind thinks different.

I look around the room, at the police officers, at Flo, at Jonathan and Nancy. A fleeting headache pulses at my temples and I’m about to ask Flo for ice for myself, but that would mean I have to stay in this stuffy room and I can’t stay longer. I need fresh air and space.

“I’m going for a walk.” I mutter, putting the dishtowel of ice in Nancy’s hand.

CHAPTER 7: THE BATHTUB

Taglist 🤍: @tinydramatist

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stranger-fanfiction-n-things · 1 month ago

Text

CHAPTER 6: THE MONSTER

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: We have another Lucas/Diana scene with complex emotions! I kinda feel bad for Diana. She's going through so much personally on her own but she's putting on a brave face while also trying to fix everything by trying to find Barb. It's a lot for a 15-year old to deal with.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word Count: 3082

Masterlist

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV

SINCLAIR RESIDENCE

“Diana.”

I snap open my eyes lurching forward in panic only to smack my head against something hard.

“Ow!”

“Son of a bitch!”

Lucas curses stumbling backward. My head hurts so much it’s developing a pulse.

“What the heck, Diana!” Lucas snaps, holding his head.

“Why were you hovering over me like that?” I grumble, rubbing my forehead tenderly. I’m too tired to scold Lucas for swearing.

“Mom told me to wake you. Everyone is downstairs eating breakfast.” I groan flopping back onto my pillow. I don’t know what time I fell asleep or even when I did. But looking down I see I slept on my sheets with no blanket. All I remember is figuring out—I lurch forward again and Lucas flinches. “What’s the matter with you!?”

I ignore him crawling to the foot of my bed and sure enough, files and papers are scattered across my room. I push my tangled curls out my face, climbing off my bed and crouch in front of my papers. Everything came rushing back. The monster is a true predator and attacks based on primal instinct. We need to lure it to us with blood.

“Diana?”

“Hm?”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, of course.” I reply, organizing my notes. “Why do you ask?” I need to call Nancy and then we can get Jonathan to help us find the thing.

“You’re mumbling to yourself like Sméagol.”

I scrunch my nose, putting a small stack of papers in its respective file. “Sméagol?”

“Gollum.” Lucas sighs.

I stop what I’m doing and squint at him. “Gollum?”

Lucas rolls his eyes, waving his hand. “Never mind.”

I shrug, returning back to my task. Where can we lure the monster? It can’t be in the forest, that’s where it lives, at least that’s where it lives where it came from. To have the upper hand, we need to trap it in an enclosed space where it can’t attack us. But where? Hawkins is a small town, there’s nowhere to put this thing without drawing attention to ourselves—

“What’s with the flowers?”

I snap my head to the side not expecting Lucas to still be in my room, especially after our collision. I blink. Flowers? Oh. I close the filing bin stumbling toward the dresser. The flowers Eddie got me are in a small jar of water. I was so spooked out last night I didn’t notice them. That also means Mom was in my room yesterday. I trace a finger along a petal and the butterflies flutter in my stomach. Suddenly the petals of the flowers turn to teeth and I recoil snapping my hand back.

“Seriously, Diana. What the heck is wrong with you?”

I open my eyes and the flowers are just flowers. No teeth. Just flowers. “Nothing. I’m fine.” I back away rubbing my head. The throbbing pain has turned to a dull ache.

“Are you sure?” Lucas asks. “You seem…” I arch my brow waiting for him to finish the sentence. A momentary look of discomfort crossed his face and he decides against saying what he really wants to say. “Chipper.”

“Ha. Ha.” I deadpan. “I didn’t get much sleep last night, if that’s what you’re referring to.”

“I can tell.” Lucas mumbles under his breath. I ignore his comment going into my closet to find clothes to wear for the day.

From the corner of my eye, I see the trash bag with my soiled clothes in the corner and my heart begins to beat slow and heavy in my chest. I need to figure out how to get rid of that without being questioned. I lick my lips and clear my throat sifting through my clothes. “Tell mom, I’ll be down soon. I’m just freshening up.”

Today we are going kill the thing and find Will and Barb. Then everything will be okay and life can return to normal. I can go back to dance and be the best damned Lead Marzipan Hawkins has ever seen. However, I need to find an outfit to start this chain of events. I find a pair of old denim overalls Mom gave to me from when she was a teenager. They’re a little big but comfy. I pull a plaid button up shirt and rummage through my shelf where I keep my long sleeve tops and pick out a white long-sleeved shirt. Throwing my clothes over my shoulder, I crouch down to my knees looking for a pair of sneakers. After all that running I did last night in boots, I need to be prepared today. Classic black and white converse it is.

I am surprised to still see Lucas in my room when I drop my clothes on my bed. He’s staring at the flowers on my dresser and I hope he doesn’t ask about them again. I’ve already been interrogated by Erica. I pass him to get to my dresser finding a pair of socks to put on. It is not uncommon for Lucas to be in my room while I’m doing something. Usually, he’s lying down on my bed reading a comic book explaining what’s happening to me even though we both know I have no idea what he’s talking about or I’m practising a variation asking him for his opinion on what looks better. But right now, my room feels the same way his room felt on Monday. Cold. Lucas is right beside me yet, I feel miles away from him.

I tilt my head to the side, studying my brother. Though intensely calm, his dark brown eyes held the smallest hints of concern. When he rubs the back of his head wincing in discomfort, my big sister alarm immediately goes off.

“What’s wrong?” Lucas stiffens at the question and my eyes go wide. I march to him reaching out to touch his head. Lucas leans back, frowning up at me.

“What are you doing?” He grunts, nostrils flaring.

“What happened to your head?”

Lucas presses his lips together as though holding back what he really wanted to say. I tuck a curl behind my ear and sigh, leaning beside him.

“If something happened to you at the Wheeler’s—”

“Nothing happened.” Lucas grumbles, stubbornly.

“Okay, well, something did happen or else you wouldn’t be here still. I’m awake now.”

“Fine. I’ll go then.” He grumbles, marching to my door. My jaw drops and I rush after him blocking his path.

“Lucas!”

I’m so confused and after my near-death experience, lack of sleep, and head trauma, my patience is running thin. I clasp my hands together closing my eyes and count down from five in my head. “I’m just trying to help,” I say as calmly as possible, opening my eyes. “You know you can tell me anything.” Lucas doesn’t say anything, but the line between his forehead disappears. “Is it about Will? I know the past few days have been hard and I am so sorry if I haven’t been there for you as much. But I’m here for you, you know that right?”

Lucas looks down, twisting his mouth. “I know,” he mumbles. “It’s just…”

“What?”

I can see the cogs turning in his head. It’s like he’s fighting within himself about something and it worries me. Usually, I am in tune and hyper aware of his emotions and what’s happening in his life, but with everything that’s going on with Barb and what happened in the woods, I feel like I’ve fallen off in being there for him.

“I can’t believe he’s gone.” He whispered.

I swallow down the lump forming in my throat and pull him in my arms. On instant, Lucas hugs me back and I inhale his boyish scent of coconut and the outdoors. We’re going to find Will and bring him back, I promise.

“You’ve always been there for me.” Lucas mumbles. “I don’t want you to feel like you haven’t. You’re always worried about me and how I’m doing, but Barb is missing too, I heard mom and dad talking about it. I’m here for you too, you know.” I bite my lower lip and squeeze him tighter.

As a big sister, my biggest fear is not being there for Erica and Lucas when they need me, especially if something is wrong. There is this pressure to be perfect and put together; to be a role model to them. I don’t want to disappoint anyone. To hear Lucas say that, makes me want to tell him what happened to me last night, but I decide against it. I need to keep him and everyone in this house safe.

Lucas went downstairs after and I freshened up in the bathroom. When I made my way down to the kitchen with the trash bag and backpack in hand. I discreetly place it at the corner by the staircase behind the island, out of sight before making my presence known.

“Good morning,” I greet, pulling my flannel shirt up on my shoulder. I must’ve taken longer than I realized because everyone was cleaning up. Erica stood beside Mom on a stool helping her pack the dishwasher while Lucas and Dad cleared the table.

“Morning.”

“Morning, sweetheart.”

“What’s up with your hair?” Erica comments, scrunching her nose.

Leave it to Erica to point out every small detail. I was in a rush and didn’t have time to do my hair like I usually do, wetting my hands and combing my curls through with my fingers. I didn’t think I looked that bad. I frown patting my hair down. It did feel a little more voluminous than usual.

“She looks fine.” Mom assures, giving Erica a look. My sister makes a face that says “if you say so”, dunking a plate in soapy water.

“I made you a plate,” Dad says, pushing a bowl of yogurt and berries, on a plate with bacon and toast. I glance at the bacon on my plate, cringing and pick up the toast instead.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

I sit down scooping my spoon in my yogurt. My stomach gurgles. I can’t remember the last time I’ve eaten. It’s been a whirlwind of chaos that keeps getting more and more deep. Lucas scrapes leftover food into the trash handing Erica the plate to douse in soapy water to give to Mom who is packing the dishwasher. My eyes wander back and forth between everyone; at their normalcy. I miss when things were normal and I was going to rehearsals and hanging out with Nancy and Barb. Not figuring out where she went, what took her and how to kill it.

I glance at Dad as he wipes down the table. I haven’t seen him since yesterday afternoon when he drove Lucas to the Wheeler’s house after the funeral. Since the funeral I am positive Mom has filled Dad in with what has been happening in the house the past couple of days. Hopefully not about Steve nor Eddie. Although, I don’t think so or else Dad would’ve said something or at least alluded to it. He is less confrontational than Mom. I can tell he’s being cautious and giving Lucas and I the space to process our losses, but I know he has questions. Dad looks at Mom and she nods her head. Dad sighs, wiping his hands in a dish towel.

“Lucas and Erica can you excuse us? Your mom and I would like to talk to Diana alone.”

“You can talk to Diana, Dad. I promise you won’t even know I’m here.” Erica smiles, scooping up suds. Lucas rolls his eyes.

Dad doesn’t say anything, waiting for Erica to leave the kitchen. Erica drops the act stepping down from the stool, not without grumbling to herself and Dad softly hits her head with the dishtowel before handing it to her to wipe her hands. Lucas looks at me wondering what’s going on following Erica into the living room. I shrug. Mom and Dad have never both wanted to talk to me about something and the yogurt in my mouth feels like lead. I chew slowly on a piece of strawberry eying my parents. Mom sits down beside Dad, both of them share a glance.

“What’s wrong?” My stomach is in knots. Dad clears his throat.

“We got a call last night from Officer Callahan,” he begins, looking me in my eyes so I know it’s serious and important. I stop eating. “He said they found Barb’s car at a bus station a few miles away.” I swallow staring at my Dad repeating what he said over and over again. Each time makes my blood boil.

It doesn’t make sense. Barb’s car cannot be at a bus station miles away because Nancy and I saw it three blocks away from Steve’s house the day after we found out she was missing. A car does not magically disappear like that. Something’s wrong. I shake my head dropping my fork on my plate.

“No.”

“Sweetheart, I know this is difficult to hear.” Mom starts.

“No.” I slam my hands on the table. I don’t miss the way Mom flinches or the way Dad’s eye grow wide at my sudden outburst.

“Diana.” Dad warns.

“No, you don’t understand. Nancy and I saw her car the next day. It was in the exact same spot we parked the night before we went to Steve’s house!”

Dad looks at me as if I’ve grown two heads. “Who is Steve and why were you in his house?” I clench my hands into fists grinding my teeth so hard they might crack.

“It doesn’t matter who Steve is!” I shout. “What matters is that something is wrong. Barb didn’t run away. You know her. She’s not like that and she wouldn’t do that without telling Nancy and I!”

Mom gives me a look that says I’m going to be calm and patient, but don’t push it. “Diana there’s no need to yell. We understand—”

“No, you don’t! Nobody understands! Nobody cares!” My voice is shaky and I swallow the lump forming in my throat. I have never been so frustrated in my life. Barb is missing and everyone is acting like she left on her own. No. She was taken by that thing in the woods, but I can’t tell anyone because I’m still trying to wrap my head around what I saw and where I was. “Where are the search parties for Barb? The whole town was looking for Will, but what about Barb?” I cry. “What about Barb?”

The doorbell rings and I wipe my eyes suddenly feeling hyper aware of where I am and what I said. Mom and Dad stare at me, bewildered into silence.

“I got it!” Lucas shouts. I hear grumbles between he and Erica probably fighting over who can get to the door first.

“Diana!” Erica won the fight. “It’s Nancy!”

I push my chair back, rushing to the corner by the staircase where I hid my backpack and the trash bag. Quickly wiping my tears with the back of my hand, I hoist my backpack over my shoulder, snatch the trash bag and march to the front door. I can hear chairs scraping against the floor and two sets of footsteps following after me.

“Where are you going?” Mom asks.

I excuse myself passing Lucas and Erica avoiding eye contact. Shame eats away at me for my outburst, but I ignore it pulling my shoulders back and standing tall. My whole family is gathered by the door watching me.

“To hang out with Jonathan and Nancy again.” I sniff. “I’ll be home later.” I open the front door and Nancy is waiting patiently. Her lips spread to a smile, but it falters upon seeing my face and my family behind me.

“Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair.”

I stomp down the steps down my long driveway where Jonathan is parked on the street. I hear Nancy jogging to catch up with me.

“Are you okay—what’s that?”

“My clothes and shoes from last night.”

“Oh.” I open the lid to the trash bin at the end of my driveway and drop the bag inside albeit a little rough. “Are you okay?”

I let out a sigh, running my fingers through my hair. “My parents just told me that Officer Callahan called. They found Barb’s car at a bus station.”

“What? How is that possible? We saw her car!”

“I know,” I huff, marching to Jonathan’s car. “It doesn’t make any sense and no one is listening to us. Nobody cares! We’re truly on our own and I’m so…frustrated.”

“We are alone and it sucks, but it’s better off with just us knowing what’s happening.” Nancy explains, opening the car door. “I have a theory on how we can kill that thing.” I open the back seat door climbing into the car. I return the half-smile Jonathan shows me before realizing he’s in the same clothes he wore last night. “I was looking through my biology textbook,” Nancy continues, before I can question him. “And this thing is a true predator and hunts alone like a bear. I also has a strong sense for blood like a shark. We can lure it to us with—”

“Blood.” I finish, getting myself comfortable. “I was thinking about how it hunts too.” I push forward leaning on the centre console. “When we were in the forest, it didn’t notice us behind it when it was eating that deer which means it hunts based off pure instinct. It’s vicious in its hunting style. It waits for prey to draw near before it overwhelms it by ambushing. In order to catch it we need to think like it. Use its foraging behaviour against it.” Jonathan and Nancy stare at me processing my small rant. Jonathan looks thoroughly impressed and Nancy looks concerned. I rub my lips together, shrugging my shoulders. “I didn’t sleep either.”

“It’s strongest in the woods, where it lives. We’ll have to draw it to us.” Nancy finishes.

“Trap it. Kill it.” I confirm.

“We know what to do, but how do we do it?” Jonathan asks, looking between us. The car is quiet for a minute while we all think. A baseball bat, a gun and a mallet isn’t enough to lure the thing to us. We need equipment and a contained space to trap it. I lean back grabbing my backpack.

“How much cash do we all have?”

NEXT -> PART IV

Taglist 🤍: @tinydramatist

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stranger-fanfiction-n-things · 1 month ago

Text

CHAPTER 6: THE MONSTER

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: Thank you for your patience! I know it's been almost a month since I last updated. Life has been busy for me lately and I wrote this with a sinus infection :( This part is very much internal dialogue and Diana trying to make sense of everything and figure out what's going on.

Warnings: Panic attacks. Blood.

Word Count: 2449

Masterlist

PART I || PART II || PART III ||

Saturday, November 12, 1983 - THE WOODS

The drive back was quiet. Nancy and I held hands the entire way. I stared out the window but couldn’t make out what I was seeing. The houses, trees and cars all morphed into one big blur. My mind races thinking about the other place? I don’t know. The woods looked exactly like the one I crawled out of, but felt…cold and…dead. As if nothing else lived there apart from that thing. No wonder it snatched the deer from our side to eat. I know one thing for certain; I will not be eating meat for a long time after that experience. I cringe thinking about the sound of its teeth tearing into warm flesh, rivulets of blood pouring down its body onto the dead grass below. The way it twisted its body around opening its mouth like petals of a blooming flower. All its sharp teeth lined its mouth spiralling to the centre. I inhale feeling the same pressure in my chest build and expand. I squeeze my eyes shut feeling my tears fall down my cheeks.

Breathe, Diana. Breathe. It’s going to be okay. You’re okay.

Nancy squeezes my hand and I look at her. She blinks, blue eyes filled with worry. The balloon in my chest deflates little by little. I don’t notice I am trembling until I stop. I sniff, leaning my head on her shoulder squeezing her hand back. From the rear-view mirror, I notice Jonathan looking at us to make sure we are okay. I look back at him in silence thanks. The argument in the woods is far behind us; it doesn’t matter anymore after what happened. The reality is Nancy and I almost died. I was close to being trapped inside that weird place with that thing. The thought unsettles me to say the least and my mind thinks of all the worse-case scenarios all ending in my death and never being found. I think about Barb and Will. How are they surviving?

SINCLAIR RESIDENCE

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay, Diana?”

I don’t know when I asked Jonathan to drive me home or if I even did. I feel mechanic stepping outside the car, closing the door behind me. My body doesn’t feel like mine anymore.

“Yes.” I mumble. My voice sounds unfamiliar to my own ears. I walk toward my house feeling like I am a puppet being controlled by a ventriloquist.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and whip my body around, arms flailing as I stumble onto my front lawn. The hand grabs me, pulling me back roughly and I collide into something hard. I immediately close my eyes, feeling fresh tears fall down my cheeks. My body trembles violently as the high-pitched screeching sound of the monster echoes in my ears.

“Diana!” I hear a voice say, it sounds distant yet close. “It’s just me, Jonathan. It’s just me.” I blink my eyes open staring into his dark brown eyes. They are wide, darting back and forth with worry. “Breathe. It’s going to be okay. You’re okay.”

Jonathan breathes in and out nodding his head, urging me to follow. I breathe in and out feeling the balloon in my chest slowly deflate. When my body stops trembling, Jonathan eases his grip on my arms.

“Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?”

I lick my dry lips, nodding my head. I want to be alone even though I don’t want to be alone. But I just needed to be alone. Jonathan squeezes my arms when I pull away, still unsure and worried about me. The corners of my lips pull up as I force myself to smile.

“I’m fine—I’ll be fine.” I correct myself, though I’m not so sure.

Jonathan stares at me. I can tell he’s debating on leaving me alone or not. Finally, he releases my arms. “I’ll walk you to your door, okay.”

I don’t respond walking toward my front door. I fidget for my keys surprised to find they are still in my denim jacket pocket. Taking them out to put in the keyhole, my hands begin to tremble and I pause breathing in and out. Jonathan takes the keys out my hand and pushes it through the keyhole, opening my front door.

I take a step inside feeling an overwhelming urge. I quickly turn around, reaching up to wrap my arms around Jonathan’s neck. The force of my action causes him to stumble back, but he immediately embraces me.

“Thank you.” I whimper, feeling a knot form in my throat. If Jonathan didn’t pull me out the tree, I’d be stuck on the other side. He saved me from my death and I’ll forever be grateful. Jonathan doesn’t say anything. Only squeezes me tighter. We both pull away and I wipe my tears with the back of my hand.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jonathan nods his head before turning back to his car. I don’t close the door until he is safe inside with Nancy. I am thankful my house is dark and quiet. I’d hate to have to walk past anyone in my family in this state and succumb to all the questions and concerns they’ll have. I take off my shoes in the mud room holding them in my hands and shuffle down the foyer, past the living room to the kitchen grabbing a garbage bag from the cupboard.

I creep up the stairs, bolting straight to the bathroom. I am about to close the door when I hear my name. I freeze, clenching my eyes shut. Shoot.

“Diana?” Mom says.

I flick on the light, pulling the elastic out my hair and shake my head letting it fall down my shoulders before peering around the door careful not to expose the state of unrest I’m in.

“Yes, mom?” I blink innocently at her.

“Where have you been?” she frowns, fixing her bathrobe.

“I was out with Nancy and Jonathan.”

Mom's frown deepens as she gives me a once over. With my hair down and the door covering my body she can’t see how filthy I am. Though sometimes I think her stare can see through anything.

“Doing what? Do you know what time it is?”

“Nancy and I were at the Byers house, keeping Jonathan company. I completely lost track of time.” I surprise myself with how easy the lies flow from my lips. I can’t very well tell her what I’ve been up to and what I’ve seen. Mom wouldn’t believe me or worse, she would and then what?

Mom’s stare almost penetrates my wall of lies. Almost. The lines between her eyebrows smoothen and I try not to visibly relax in case she grows suspicious.

“That’s so kind of you, Diana. I worry about him a lot. It’s nice to know he has you and Nancy around.” I agree, nodding my head. Mom tilts her head to the side touching the door. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” I press my hand firmly against the door.

“Yes, I’m fine!” I respond quickly. “Tired is all. It’s been a very emotionally challenging day.”

“Yes, it has. I worry about your brother—I worry about all of you kids.” Sadness lingers in her eyes. Mom sighs gathering herself together. “I’ll leave you to it. Next time please leave a note so I know where you’re going. There are too many people disappearing in Hawkins.”

“I will. I promise.” I try my best to smile without it looking forced. It’s enough to pacify my Mom as she smiles back before walking back to her room.

I close the door behind me, leaning heavily against it, using it as a crutch to support my fatigued body. My muscles ache with a deep persistent soreness, every fibre protesting against the demand of continued exertion. My mind is clouded with fog and it’s thick and heavy. I shiver feeling a chill take over my body. Fluffy spores fall silently like snow upon the decaying forest. I hear a sickening crunch followed by aggressive chewing and turn around to see the monster eating the deer. It stops, perking up from its spot hunched over the animal. Suddenly it snaps around opening its petal-like mouth wide in bloom and lets out a bone-chilling screech lunging forward toward me.

I gasp clinging to the counter for support. My eyes snap open and I am startled by my reflection in the mirror. I look as terrible as I feel. My hair is matted with dry slime and goop. My clothes are filthy and covered in the same slime with the addition of dirt and mud. Underneath my eyes are puffy and swollen from crying. My skin looks dry and my lips are chapped.

I immediately take off my backpack and clothes shoving the soiled clothing in the trash bag. I don’t know if the residue on my clothes are infectious or not or if the scent of the other dimension will attract the monster, so in order to not put myself and my family in danger, everything is going in the trash. If I could burn them, I would. Anything to erase what happened.

My skin feels raw as I scrub my body for the third time. Anytime I think I’m done in the shower I see another speck of spore or slime and I am back to scrubbing my body and washing my hair. Flashes of my time in the other dimension, penetrate my mind. I felt the way the vines moved under me and wince, squeezing my eyes shut. Breathe, Diana. Breathe. You’re okay. You’re going to be okay. I’m safe at home in my shower. Nothing can get me here. How could you be so sure? The voice in my head asks. I shiver, scrubbing my body harder. I’m not sure at all.

The makeshift towel turban concealing my damp hair loosens dropping onto my shoulders as I cautiously approach my room. I flick on my bedroom light, my eyes darting around every corner for anything out of the ordinary. It’s comical how uneasy I feel in the safest place. Shoving the trash bag at the farthest corner of my room, along with my backpack, I pad across my plushy carpet toward my window to lock it, triple checking the lock for peace in mind and draw my curtains.

I feel jittery pacing back and forth in my room. I am hyper aware of my surroundings. The lights are too bright, but I refuse to be in the dark. My pyjamas brush against my skin and I feel like I’m chafing, but I know it’s because I scrubbed my skin raw. The silence is too loud, but I can’t put on music or else I won’t be able to hear any suspicious activity.

I fight against a wave of drowsiness that threatens to engulf me, my eyelids fluttering in a constant battle to stay awake. I can’t sleep knowing that the monster, that thing, is out there. The way it grabbed the wounded deer from the other side to eat. I wring out my hands as nausea begins to creep up my throat at the thought of the monster tearing into the deer’s flesh. It was so easy for the monster to grab the deer from the other side. Hawkins is a small town outside Indianapolis surrounded by forests and many people walk in and out it. Mom said too many people have been disappearing…how many people have been reported missing in the past week excluding Will and Barb?

After my near-death experience, I can firmly deduce the monster took Barb and Will and in Will’s case he was on his way home, but for Barb…she was at Steve’s house. I shiver. We all were. Running my fingers through my hair, I sit down on my bed frowning. There has to be a common denominator. I know the attacks are in close radius of each other: the Byers and the Harringtons. Over the train tracks the area is mostly dense forests. Will was on his way home riding through the shortcut Lucas called…what did he call it? Mirkwood! Where Cornwallis and Kerley meet. Steve also lives on Cornwallis and Kerley.

But why would the monster attack Barb?

In the photos Jonathan took, Barb was sitting on the diving board by herself. I think back to last year in biology class when I learned about Predation. Predators form a foraging cycle when pursuing prey: Search. Assess. Capture. Handling. There are different ways predators can capture a prey, by ambushing, pursuit and ballistic interception. In the photo Jonathan developed back at school, the monster was standing behind Barb…assessing.

I rub my temples tiredly. Something had to draw the monster to Barb. I look at my hands, examining my nails to assess if I missed any dirt or slime under them and it came at me all at once. Blood. Barb’s finger was bleeding. The deer in the forest was bleeding out.

I perk up rushing to my closet. On the top shelf I kept all my old school papers and notes in a filing bin. After a few minutes of struggle, the bin is down on my carpet and I am shuffling through files. The monster must have a strong sense of smell for blood and it would explain how easy it was for it to grab the deer. It would also explain how Barb vanished into thin air.

I squeal in excitement when I find what I’m looking for. My notes on Predation. I wrote, animals forage in solidarity or in groups. When resources are abundant, animals may choose to forage on their own. This can occur when the habitat is rich or number of foragers are few. I skim down further and read the following:

To understand Solitary Foraging scientists use the theory called: Optimal Foraging Theory. The theory was proposed in 1966. It argues that because an individual’s survival is determined by success of foraging, one can predict foraging behaviour by using decision theory to determine the behaviour that an “optimal forager” would exhibit.

I sit with this information for a moment. I don’t know how many people have been reported missing but it’s fair to guess it’s more than five people including Will and Barb. Which means the monster has been successful in its hunt and will hunt again. It’s a question of when it will hunt...and how can we make it hunt us.

Blood.

The predator will become the prey. Jonathan, Nancy and I will need to lure the monster to us, trap it and then we’ll kill it once and for all.

NEXT -> PART III

Taglist 🤍: @tinydramatist

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stranger-fanfiction-n-things · 1 month ago

Text

CHAPTER 6: THE MONSTER

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: I would actually faint if I were in the Upside Down for the first time like that.

Warnings: The Upside Down

Word Count: 1819

Masterlist

PART I || PART II ||

Friday, November 11, 1983 - THE UPSIDE DOWN

It was like crawling through one of those plastic tunnels in a playground but instead of seeing sand and sunlight on the other side, I see darkness and decay. I wrinkle my nose at the mucus-like substance coating my hair and clothes. What is this?

“Nancy?” I whisper.

“Diana! Are you okay?” she breathes, helping me up.

“Yeah, just,” I wipe my hands on my jeans. “What is this stuff?”

“I don’t know,” she answers, looking around.

I follow her gaze and realize we’re in a forest, similar to the one we crawled out of? I feel discombobulated like Alice falling down the hole chasing the white rabbit. The forest is covered in fog and I squint taking in my surroundings. There are weird flakes falling from the sky, but they rarely land on the ground. It’s like they’re floating, taunting me. I remove a flake stuck on my jacket and it disintegrates between my fingers like ash. This place…I don’t understand—where are we? It looks like the forest we were just in but colder, darker and more unsettling.

Nancy motions for me to follow and I oblige stepping over a weird vine thing with mucus all over it. I then step through a splitting tree, cringing at the mucus covered vines spiralling all over. The flashlight begins to flicker and Nancy hits the tin box trying to fix it. I squint, looking around the forest. A sudden movement from the corner of my eye makes my skin tingle. Nancy gasps shining the light to the right of us.

I am utterly frozen. My body cut all communication with my mind, and no matter how much my brain screamed for me to run. I am immobilized in terror. In the far corner by a tree was the animal I saw in the photograph. I remember its long, lithe figure. What I couldn’t see in the photo that I see now is it’s long sharp claws and slimy skin. I hear it tearing into the deer we saw earlier; the wounded one Jonathan was about to put out of its misery. It disappeared here. That thing—that animal dragged it here. The animal was vicious and brutal, gnawing at tissue and bones. Blood…so much blood dripped down its body. It didn’t notice Nancy’s flashlight shining on it or us staring wide-eyed while it ate. Nancy grabs my hand and we begin to back away slowly. I follow her cautious movements, neither of us taking our eyes off the animal.

Breathe. Breathe, Diana. Just one step at a time.

I feel the crunch beneath my boot before I hear it. The animal whips around roaring a terrifying screech that I’m sure will haunt me for the rest of my life. Its mouth opens wide like petals of a flower and I see several jagged, pointy teeth, covered in blood and gore. A guttural scream erupts from my throat and I sprint through the forest not daring to look back. I don’t know when or where or how I lost Nancy. The animal’s fierce growls replaying over and over in head. I run and run and run until I can’t anymore and hide behind a tree.

“Jonathan!” I hear Nancy shouting from the distance. “Jonathan! Jonathan! I’m right here!”

“Nancy!” I shout, running towards her voice. I can’t see through much through the fog. “Nancy!”

“Diana!”

A terrifying growl followed by her scream echoes through the forest. I dash to the nearest tree huddling behind it, wrapping my arms tightly around myself. I’m trembling so much I feel the tree is moving with me. I press my hand to my mouth to stifle my uncontrollable sobs. I can’t—think. I don’t know what’s happening. All I can hear is my heart beating so fast in my chest I fear it might explode. Black spots cloud my vision. I’m going to faint. No! I pinch myself hard. No. You cannot faint, Diana. Not here.

My mind feels like it’s been tossed in a blender, filled with fragmented thoughts of my life and worse-case scenarios. I don’t know how long I stay crouched behind the tree. I don’t know if I’m even alive right now. Something tickles my ankles and I jump up, covering my mouth to stifle my scream. I back away watching the vines move and slither along the tree. The small hairs across my body stand up. The vines…they’re alive. I wring out my hands, letting my tears fall freely.

I can’t. I can’t.

My eyes trail down and around at all the vines wrapped and draped over the forest. They seem to be moving…breathing, actually. I look up and around trying to understand this…place. I hear a low growl in the distance and have no choice but to hide behind the tree covered in breathing vines. I clench my muscles so tight they ache.

“Diana!” I hear a voice shout. I flinch, eyes wide in horror. “Diana!” It’s muffled like it’s coming from the other side of a door. “Diana! Hurry!” The voice says. “Find the tree! Find the tree!”

Nancy. It’s Nancy! She’s alive! She’s alive and with Jonathan. How? Wait. Find the tree. What tree? There are so many. I peer around the web-like tendrils looking for the animal, but I can’t see through the stupid fog. I press my trembling hands against my temples, trying to still the frantic thoughts that raced through my mind, each one a taunting reminder of my mounting panic. Find the tree. The tree! The tree we crawled out of. Okay. Okay. I can do this. I can find it. I didn’t run that far, did I?

“Diana!” Jonathan shouts. “Listen to the sound of my voice.”

I whip my head to the side. Left. Go Left. I hold my breath trying to make myself as small as possible and scurry to the next nearby tree, trying my best not to press against the vines. I want to shout to them but I’m frightened it would give my hideout away. My eyes dart around the forest, searching for an escape route. If I run from tree to tree toward the sound of Nancy and Jonathan’s voices, I’ll be able to find the tree. I grit my teeth in determination. I am not going to die.

My entire being is on high alert as I quiet the sound of my panting to open my senses to any small sound. I don’t know where that thing is, but I know I need to get to the nearest tree. I take off to the left, light and delicate on my feet. Who knew ballet would come in handy when escaping impending death. I run from tree to tree keeping my eyes peeled for anything strange.

“Diana!” I hear Nancy more clearly.

I cling to the vine, fingers digging into the soft surface. It moves beneath my fingers and I jump back stifling a scream. To the right I notice the tree. It’s gaping hole was growing…smaller, as if it were closing. The surge of panic consumes me. I am not getting stuck here. I am not going to die. I sprint straight to the tree refusing to take my eyes off it. I drop heavily onto my knees and begin to squeeze my body through. I clench my jaw fighting to fit my hips through. I can’t see anything tucking my chin into my chest refusing to get any of that slime on my face. I push the rest of my body inside, but I feel stuck. Like the walls are closing in on me. I open my mouth, breathing in jagged uneven gasps. I taste mould in my mouth and I cough, my lungs struggling to draw in air.

“Nancy!” I cry, my voice quivers, words stumbling out in disjointed fragments. “Jonathan!”

THE WOODS

I push my body through the damp tunnel desperately clawing my way out to the other side. The muffled voices of Jonathan and Nancy shouting my name grow more and more clear as I crawl. The space in the tunnel becomes narrow and I find it difficult to squeeze my shoulders through. I grit my teeth pushing my arm through the sticky webbing as far as I can reach. My hand oozes past the gummy surface until I feel a pop breaking free of the goop.

Someone grabs my hand and pulls my body through with so much force I pop out of the hole landing on my side. I draw in my first breath filling my lungs with cool, clean air and immediately begin to cough inhaling too much for my lungs to filter. The violent blood-chilling screech of that thing with no face replays over and over in my mind like a broken record. The image of its big, sharp teeth eating the poor deer will be engraved in my head forever. I can smell the old mouldy scent of the decaying trees. All that blood. My breathing is shallow as I claw the damp earth with my fingers. My pulse is loud in my ears and my mouth is dry. The darkness. The ash-like spores falling down from the sky like fluffy snowflakes. The gooey, slimy gunk clinging to the trees. I look down at my hands. It was all over me.

I sit up. My entire body trembling violently yet, I feel like I can’t move. Pressure builds in my chest like a balloon filled with helium. The pressure is so heavy in my chest, I can barely breathe. I look down at my clothes and all the grey goop slathered all over me. I feel sticky and dirty. I wipe the mysterious substance off my body but it only smears it across my jacket creating a stain. Tears brim my eyes clouding my vision.

“I-It’s not coming off,” I whimper, adding more pressure. “It’s not coming off!” I cry out growing more and more frantic. “I-I can’t get it off me!” I shout. “I-I can’t. I can’t!”

“Diana!” Jonathan shouts. “Hey!” I shiver against the cold hands holding my face. Jonathan wipes my tears away with the pads of his thumbs. “It’s gonna come off, okay? It’s gonna come off.” I nod my head in a daze. “Breathe, Diana. Breathe. It’s going to be okay. You’re okay.”

All the adrenaline I had in that forest drains out of me and I am faced with the reality of the situation. I almost died. A sob shakes my body and I cling to Jonathan burying my face in the crook of his neck. My mind can’t process what I witnessed. It all felt like a crazy fever dream I couldn’t wake up from. But it was all real and I can’t stop crying.

“You’re safe,” Jonathan whispers in my ear. “You’re safe.”

NEXT -> PART II

Taglist 🤍: @tinydramatist

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stranger-fanfiction-n-things · 1 month ago

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There’s something wrong with my computer and I can’t open some of my files with my written work (work that I’m really proud of) and I’m 😣

#she speaks

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stranger-fanfiction-n-things · 1 month ago

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CHAPTER 6: THE MONSTER

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: I would actually faint if I were in the Upside Down for the first time like that.

Warnings: The Upside Down

Word Count: 1819

Masterlist

PART I || PART II ||

Friday, November 11, 1983 - THE UPSIDE DOWN

“Nancy?” I whisper.

“Diana! Are you okay?” she breathes, helping me up.

“Yeah, just,” I wipe my hands on my jeans. “What is this stuff?”

“I don’t know,” she answers, looking around.

Breathe. Breathe, Diana. Just one step at a time.

“Jonathan!” I hear Nancy shouting from the distance. “Jonathan! Jonathan! I’m right here!”

“Nancy!” I shout, running towards her voice. I can’t see through much through the fog. “Nancy!”

“Diana!”

I can’t. I can’t.

“Diana!” Jonathan shouts. “Listen to the sound of my voice.”

“Diana!” I hear Nancy more clearly.

“Nancy!” I cry, my voice quivers, words stumbling out in disjointed fragments. “Jonathan!”

THE WOODS

“You’re safe,” Jonathan whispers in my ear. “You’re safe.”

NEXT -> PART II

Taglist 🤍: @tinydramatist

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stranger-fanfiction-n-things · 1 month ago

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CHAPTER 5: THE FLEA AND THE ACROBAT

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: This is a long one and based off certain scenes in Lucas on the Line. As a black person, I never realized I was other until it was pointed out to me and once I internalized it, I had questions I couldn't ask my parent(s) because it's not something discussed at length in the black community because trying to survive is hard enough. I honestly urge y'all to read Lucas on the Line because it's such a well written story about the Black Experience and how nuanced and difficult it is to navigate especially black kids who grew up in white neighbourhoods.

I hope y'all enjoy. Let me know what you guys think and if you'd like to be added to the tag list, let me know too! 🤎

Warnings: Swearing.

Word Count: 4587

Masterlist

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV

THE WOODS

I squeal dropping the mallet on the ground at the sound of a gunshot. Nancy giggles waiting for me as I pick up my weapon in the shrubbery. I never thought I would be on my way to meet up with Jonathan Byers on the opposite side of town to learn how to shoot a gun. But then again, a lot more bizarre things have happened this week so I shouldn’t be surprised. Nancy and I trek up the small hill as Jonathan shoots repeatedly at the target of empty tin cans or at least attempts to.

“You’re supposed to hit the cans, right?”

Jonathan looks over his shoulder smiling sheepishly. “No, actually you see the spaces in between the cans? I’m aiming for those.”

“Sure.” Nancy answers, titling her head in amusement. She drops her backpack and baseball bat on the ground ready for practice.

I don’t take off my backpack right away, taking in my surroundings. The wide-open space of dry leaves, weeds and shrubs. The tall pine trees encircling the space. The winter chill started to come in and I wish I wore a hat today to cover my ears, maybe even a heavier coat instead of a denim jacket. Jonathan opens the revolver to check how many bullets are in the cylinder before reaching in his pockets for more.

“You ever shot a gun before?”

“Absolutely not.” I answer.

“Didn’t your dad fight in the Vietnam War?” I nod my head, shifting from side to side on my feet. My Dad would never let any of us touch a gun. There was no reason for us to. Jonathan shrugs. “I’m surprised he hasn’t taught you how to shoot a gun,” he commented, directing his gaze to Nancy. “You?”

Nancy scoffs. “Have you met my parents?”

“Yeah, I haven’t shot one since I was nine. My dad took me hunting on my birthday.” I see the spark in his eyes dwindle to a low flame. “He made me kill a rabbit.”

“A rabbit?” Nancy and I say at the same time.

“Yeah. I guess he thought it would make me into more of a man or something.”

“Yes, because the world needs more men shooting guns.” I deadpan.

Jonathan smirks, adding bullets to the cylinder. “I cried for a week.”

“Jesus.” Nancy whispers.

“I’m sorry.” I say to him.

Jonathan didn’t say anything as he tried to drag emotion back under where he didn’t need to feel it. He snaps the revolver in place, the corners of his lips rise to a smirk again. “What? I’m a fan of Thumper.”

“I meant your dad.” Nancy says.

The detachment in his tone makes me uncomfortable. In seeing Jonathan’s dad for the first time today, the way he dressed and carried himself. There was something arrogant and insincere about him. When Will first went missing, I never heard Jonathan mention his dad, when Nancy and I found Jonathan at the funeral home, he was by himself picking caskets. Ms. Byers was at home grieving, but the whole town knew how adamant she was on finding Will, but where was his dad? The audacity to show up to the funeral of his youngest son, he did nothing to plan, to shake hands with the people who did care to find Will. Now with this story, it completed the picture. He was never in Jonathan and Will’s life and didn’t care to be. Only wanted to insert his toxic male dominance and masculinity onto the boys.

“I guess he and my mother loved each other at some point...but I wasn’t around for that part.”

Nancy gestures for the gun and Jonathan hands it to her. “Just point and shoot.”

I walk behind Nancy to stand beside Jonathan, refusing to be anywhere near that sound. Nancy takes a deep breath aiming the gun at the can a few yards in front of her.

“I don’t think my parents ever loved each other.”

My eyebrows raise at the bold statement. “Nancy, you shouldn’t say that.”

“I mean it.” she answers.

“They must’ve married for some reason.” Jonathan states.

“My mom was young. My dad was older but he had a cushy job, money, came from a good family. So, they bought a nice house at the end of the cul-de-sac and started their nuclear family.”

“Screw that.” Jonathan says.

“Yeah. Screw that.”

Nancy closes one eye aiming for the beer can. I put my fingers in in ears just as Nancy pulls the trigger hitting the beer can. I chuckle in disbelief. From shot gunning to shooting them, anything involving beer cans, Nancy is a natural. I shrug off my backpack, placing the mallet on top. Despite the awe, I am uncomfortable with what Nancy said about her parents. Sure, Mr. Wheeler was a bit…impartial. I was around the family many times to know that, but to say her parents never loved each other? I don’t know.

“Are you sure you don’t want to try, Diana?” Jonathan asks, offering me the gun. I don’t move contemplating. “It’s not gonna bite.” He jokes. I make a face at Jonathan and he laughs as I cautiously take it from him with my gloved hand.

“Just point and shoot?”

“Just point and shoot.”

I standing in front of a can, widening my stance so I don’t fall over. “There’s nothing wrong with starting a nuclear family.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Nancy voices. “Your family is perfect.”

I narrow my eyes at her, shaking my head. The contempt in her tone is shocking. “That’s not true.”

“Diana,” Nancy chides, shoving her hands in her pockets. “You never argue with your parents and your parents never argue with each other. You are perfect. Your siblings are perfect. Everyone in your family is perfect.”

I don’t miss Jonathan’s eyes darting back and forth between us. Having never seen us go back and forth with each other, I can tell he is surprised by this. What he doesn’t know is this topic of conversation isn’t new. Throughout our years of friendship, Nancy and Barb always made fun of me for being “perfect”; how I never make mistakes; I am always put together. I need at least eight-hours of “beauty” sleep. From the nickname “Lady Diana”, to my mom making me lunches because I refuse to each cafeteria food. At first it used to bother me, but I moved passed it until Tommy H and Carol picked up on it and started calling me “Anal Princess”.

This may not be a new conversation, but the undertone certainly is and it’s why I am thrown off by it. It doesn’t sound like a joke anymore and there’s something deeper going on. I never thought Nancy envied me. I know I certainly envied Nancy for being strong enough to stand up for herself and say no. For being able to be defiant without feeling like its wrong. I lift my head high lifting the gun eye level.

“I’m not perfect and my parents do argue, just not in front of us and there’s nothing wrong with that.” I begin. “You want to know why my dad never taught me how to fire a gun?” I refer to Jonathan’s comment earlier. “Because he never talks about the War unless it’s to teach us a lesson. I don’t know any stories of his time there. My family is seemingly perfect because we don’t talk about things, we don’t have difficult conversations. We just keep our heads down and try to live without feeling more of an outsider than we already are.” I pull the trigger and the bullet hits the can knocking it off the tree stub.

None of us react. The heaviness of what I said laying on thick. My family isn’t perfect. We are far from it. We are compliant and conforming because it’s the only way to not be seen as more of an outsider than we already are. I understand it to a certain extent, but sometimes I wish my parents would talk more about it. About being black in an all-white religious town. About their past and how they came to Hawkins. I know nothing and it’s something I push down to be the “perfect” daughter when deep down it bothers me. This is not something I can discuss with Lucas and Erica because they are happy in their bubble and I want to keep it that way for them.

“What do you mean?” Nancy asks with a frown. “You’re not an outsider, Di.”

“Never mind.” I say, handing Jonathan the gun, feeling more uncomfortable than before.

Nancy didn’t question me again and after shooting practice we decided to head through the forest looking for the mysterious animal. Dried leaves crunch under my boots as we all walked in silence. Jonathan and Nancy walked together giving me space to be alone for a while which I am grateful for because I didn’t feel like talking. My mind feels like it’s been jostled back and forth, buzzing with many thoughts. I can’t believe I said that out loud. I’ve never talked about it because who do I talk about this with? Uncle Jack only comes to Hawkins once a year and when he does the environment is uncomfortable and stuffy because Dad doesn’t like Uncle Jack and doesn’t hide it. Long distance calls are expensive and I have no money to pay for it and if Dad finds out I’ve been talking to Uncle Jack he’d be furious. Maybe I should start journaling or writing letters I’ll never send.

“You never said what I was saying?” Nancy speaks after a long period of silence.

“What?” Jonathan says.

The conversation about the photos began in the darkroom yesterday, but I interrupted when I saw the final development of the photo of the thing that took Will and Barb. It’s definitely been the great elephant in the room between the three of us and though the conversation in the darkroom was light in nature, it is a serious situation.

“Yesterday, you said, I was saying something and that’s why you took my picture.” I glance around not focusing on anything, while keeping my ears perked.

“Oh, I don’t know. My guess…I saw this girl; you know trying to be someone else. But for that moment…it was like you were alone or you thought you were,” I cautiously peer at Nancy. She looks like she’s about to explode. “And, you know you could just be yourself.”

I ground my teeth. Jonathan just opened up a huge can of worms. A few days ago, I would’ve agreed but after talking to Nancy, I don’t think she is trying to be someone else. She’s a young woman exploring and there’s nothing wrong with that. Also, Jonathan isn’t close to Nancy to know who she is and who she isn’t. Nancy doesn’t respond right away, processing the soft insult. She stops clenching her hands into fists.

“That is such bullshit.” Nancy fumes, glaring at Jonathan. “I am not trying to be someone else. Just because I’m dating Steve and you don’t like him—”

“You know what? Forget it. I just thought it was a good picture.”

My head retracts back. “So, you were intentional in taking those photos.”

Jonathan’s head whips back. His brows shoot up in disbelief. “What?”

“You said you thought it was a good picture which means you were intentional about taking it.” My voice hardens. “Taking all of it.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth, Diana.” Jonathan mutters furiously under his breath, walking away. I march behind him trying to keep up with his long legs and quick strides.

“I’m not putting words in your mouth! Nancy asked you a question and your answer quite frankly, was bullshit. Because really? That’s what you were thinking when she was taking off her shirt?” It’s a cop out. A poor excuse to deflect from what he did. Jonathan scoffs. “Unbelievable.” I hiss, catching myself before I trip over a branch. “What about how Steve feels?”

“Oh my god!” Jonathan throws his hands up in exasperation and I am filled with so much adrenaline I’m starting to shake.

“I told you his privacy was violated too!” I snap. “As was mine, Tommy, Carol, and Barb!”

Jonathan spins around, eyes bulging out of his sockets. “And I said I was sorry for taking the photos!” He shouts. I blink repeatedly taken aback by this attitude. No one has ever yelled at me like that and Jonathan was the last person I thought would. Nancy steps in scowling at him.

“Don’t yell at her!” she shouts, pointing at him. Jonathan glares at her and keeps his mouth shut. I look down at my boots, done with the conversation. “Steve is actually a good guy. The whole camera situation. He’s not like that at all. He was just being protective.”

“Yeah.” Jonathan scoffs, walking away. “That’s one word for it.”

“And what you did was okay?” Nancy barks, following after him. I stalk behind her keeping my distance.

“I never said that.”

“He had every right to be pissed—”

“Okay, all right.” Jonathan says, rolling his eyes, coming to a halt. “Does that mean I have to like him?”

“No.”

“Listen, don’t take it so personally, okay? I don’t like most people. He’s in the vast majority.”

This is why he’s being like this. Because he doesn’t like Steve and has some sort of animosity towards him. I never thought I would stick up for Steve, but after my encounter with him in my garage, I think he’s a good person and deserves a chance to be seen and heard outside his bubble.

“You know, I was actually starting to think that you were okay.” Nancy rages.

“Yeah?” Jonathan challenges, eyes glowing with savage fire.

“Yeah, I was thinking, ‘Jonathan Byers, maybe he’s not the pretentious creep everyone says he is.’”

“Well, I was just starting to think you were okay. I was thinking, ‘Nancy Wheeler, she’s not just another suburban girl who thinks she’s rebelling by doing exactly what every other suburban girl does, until that phase passes and they marry some boring one-time jock who now works sales, and they live out a perfectly boring little life at the end of a cul-de-sac.’” His voice was stern with no vestige of sympathy in its hardness. “’Exactly like their parents, who they thought were so depressing, but now, hey, they get it.’”

Nancy and I watch Jonathan march away. We look at each other absolutely gobsmacked at what just happened. Nancy’s face is so red, the veins in her neck pulsates with pent-up fury as she clenches her fists. I wrap my arm around her shoulders guiding her along the path.

I admire the colours of the sky as we trek through the forest. Shades of pink, orange, and yellow blending and oozing together. The sun was setting and we would soon need to use our flashlights to navigate through the forest. My back aches from carrying my backpack for so long and I want to tell Jonathan to stop so we can take a break but he was far ahead keeping his distance. All of us have been quiet since the argument though Nancy walked beside me, we haven’t spoken focusing on our surroundings, deep in thought.

A lot of truth has been said today and it felt like it was shoved down all our throats. I’m not mad at Jonathan for yelling at me and I hope he’s not mad at me for calling him out. What he did was stupid and I know he knows that, but picking a fight with Nancy was something completely different. It felt more personal and I can’t quite put my finger on why it would be since Jonathan and Nancy aren’t close. If anything, they may be farther apart now after what he said to her. I doubt Jonathan wants that especially because of how far we’ve come.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asks quietly enough so Jonathan doesn’t hear.

“Yes.” I respond automatically. Nancy looks at me and I drop the act. “No.”

“Me neither.” she agrees, glaring at the back of Jonathan’s head. “I’m so sick of him and his holier than thou attitude.”

“I can’t believe he yelled at me.”

“I can’t believe that either!” she whispers hastily. “I didn’t like that.”

“I know. Thank you for sticking up for me.”

“Thank you for sticking up for me and Steve.”

“You’re welcome.”

I debate on whether I should tell her he came to my house today, but decide it doesn’t matter and she probably already knew about it since he was in his way to see her anyways.

“I can’t believe Princess Diana swore.” she teases, touching her chest in shock.

“Oh, shut up.” I giggle, pushing her away.

“Ou, again!” I roll my eyes.

“I was just trying to understand why he took the photos.”

“I honestly don’t even think he knows.” she says, looking at Jonathan again. There was no anger in her eyes, just curiosity.

“After that conversation, I think so too.”

Nancy hums in response, tucking a stray wisp of hair behind her ears. “I was going to bring it up later but, what you did earlier today about being an outsider. What did you mean?”

A ripple of anxiety went up my back while my stomach fell to my feet. I shrug my shoulders shaking me head. “I don’t know.” I deflect.

“Diana, we’ve been friends for so long, you can talk to me about anything. You know that right?”

I do know that, but this conversation was not about a boy or anything menial like that. It was much deeper and something I’ve been pushing down for years. I didn’t mean to say it out loud, but when Nancy went on about my perfect day family, I snapped. This past week I feel like I’ve gone through the most significant changes which in turn has brought up subconscious thoughts, emotions and insecurities. I feel like I’m being pulled in every direction, perfect daughter, perfect friend, Juilliard, Blackness, otherness. But who am I? Where do I want to go? Who do I want to be?

“Diana.” Worry etched Nancy’s features. My silence makes her more anxious. I sigh, stepping over a branch.

“Have you ever noticed there is no one who looks like me in our neighbourhood?” I mumble, uncomfortably.

“No? What do you mean?” An expected answer. I close my eyes counting down from five. How do I go about this?

“I mean, black.” I say, pushing down the lump forming in my throat. “My family…” I clear my throat. “My family is the only black family in the neighbourhood.” When Nancy doesn’t say anything, I continue. “I don’t remember when I noticed, but once I did, it’s hard not to. Even at school, I can count how many black people are there and majority are on the basketball team. Did you know that?” Nancy shakes her head. “I am the only black person in our classes, at dance. No matter where I go or what I do, who I am. I will always be the black one. Even in our friendship. That’s what I mean by outsider.”

“My mom and dad don’t talk about our blackness and I’m left to figure it out on my own. I don’t have anyone to talk to about it. That’s what I mean when I said we don’t have difficult conversations. We just keep our heads down and conform, but sometimes I don’t want to conform. Sometimes…” I sigh feeling exhausted. Mentally. “Sometimes, I want to ask those questions but then I’ll feel like I’m not…”

“The perfect daughter.” Nancy finishes.

“Yeah.” I twirl the mallet in my hand. There’s so much to say but this conversation is exhausting enough. Nancy looks at the ground, kicking a rock.

“I-I don’t know what to say…” she says lowly. “I’m sorry for not paying attention.”

“You know now and that’s the first step.”

“Of course, but please don’t be afraid to tell me these things. You’re my best friend and I don’t want you to feel like an outsider when you’re with me. What you said is something I need to know in order to change.”

I nod my head and Nancy visibly relaxes, reaching to squeeze my hand. I rest my head on her shoulder feeling more relaxed than I did before the beginning of the conversation. It’s a conversation that could’ve easily gone south and I wouldn’t be prepared to handle it, especially after what happened hours before. Darkness quickly engulfs the sky and I am instantly aware of all the sounds in the forest. The wind slipping through leaves, the cracking undergrowth with each step Nancy and I make, the bugs crawling on trees. We all take out our flashlights to see and I notice Jonathan slows down to remain close, though still keeping his distance. I jerk at every unfamiliar sound making Nancy laugh again.

“Do you remember Mei Wong?” I mutter, swatting away a fly.

“Yes. She auditioned for Juilliard!”

“Well on Sunday at rehearsals, she told me…” I swallow to soothe the dryness in my throat. “She told me I should think about auditioning for Juilliard.”

“Really? Wow!”

I scrunch my nose. “I know.”

“You definitely should. I meant what I said at Steve’s house. You’re such a beautiful dancer and you’re gonna go pro. I feel it.” I shake my head. Somehow Nancy sees it.

“You are. I need you to be more confident in yourself.”

“I know, I know. It’s just…what if I audition and I don’t get in—”

“We’re only in 10th grade, you have time to worry about the auditions.” Nancy assures me. “Maybe Juilliard has a summer intensive you can take beforehand to give you an extra boost.”

“My dad will never allow that.”

“Have you talked to your mom about it?”

I shake my head. “Not yet.”

“I say after all this is done and we find Barb, we will both help you research and come up with a plan for you to go to Juilliard. Because you’re going to Juilliard.”

We find Barb. That’s the most important thing. It’s why we’re here now. The sound of her laughter echoed through my mind. The last time I saw her; felt her at Steve’s house. I don’t want to believe that was the last time I saw her. I shiver, crossing my arms above my chest. It’s so cold I can barely feel my ears and nose. Jonathan keeps pace with Nancy and I. There is still tension between the three of us, but now is not the time to dwell on it, not when we were outside in the forest on our own looking for God knows what. At random, Nancy slows down looking back and forth, her expression tight with strain. I keep myself composed despite the fact my heart is racing. Did she see something? Hear anything? Was it here? I tighten my grip on the mallet, my eyes darting from tree to tree.

“What are you tired?” Jonathan asks.

“Shut up.” Nancy hisses, looking around. “I heard something.”

I follow closely beside Jonathan as we follow Nancy through the forest. I don’t know what we’re looking for or what she’s heard until I hear something faint…a whining sound. I gasp at the sight of a deer whimpering in front of underbrush. We all rush to the deer dropping to our knees. My stomach is in knots at the blood dampening its fawn-coloured coat. It looked like it’s been punctured multiple times. It’s ragged breathing and slow movements indicated it was in pain and about to die. I’ve never seen a deer this close before and I’m sad it has to be like this. Images of Bambi flash through my mind and I cover my mouth muffling my sobs.

“Oh, God. It’s been hit by a car.” Nancy whimpers, tears brimming her eyes. She looks at the gun in her hand and holds it up. “We can’t just leave it.”

“Wait!” I exclaim, grabbing her arm. “There must be something else we can do!”

“It’s in too much pain. We have to.”

“I’ll do it.” Jonathan says, taking the gun. Nancy and I look at him with wide eyes. “I’m not nine anymore.” Jonathan assures us.

I stagger up on my feet grabbing Nancy’s hand. Jonathan points the gun at the deer. Time slows down and I feel like the forest is closing in on me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up just as Jonathan is about to pull the trigger when suddenly, the deer disappears into the underbrush. I jump back startled, mouth opening in a silent scream.��

“What was that? What was that?” Nancy shouts.

I wring my hands jumping up and down. “Oh, my god. Oh my, god. I can’t. I can’t.” Panic shoots up my spine and I hold my chest struggling to catch my breath.

“There’s so much blood.”

“Where did it go?”

“I don’t know.”

I quickly pick up the flashlight and mallet I dropped in my state of panic. My skin tingles and I shake my head trying to focus, aiming the light on the ground. Blood smears all over leaves and twigs. I proceed around with caution, shining my light on anything and everything in the forest, being cautious of not stepping on any gore. From the far distance I notice something dripping from a hollow tree stump. It looked like…sap. No, it’s too thick for it to be sap. I am vigilant taking calculated steps and kneel in front of the tree inspecting the foliage. It looked like the tree was creating mucus. Thick, slimy, runny mucus. There was no smell to it, but it was weird. I paid attention in biology last semester to know that this wasn’t right.

“Nancy.” I whisper. “This tree…there’s weird stuff falling.”

Nancy joins me on my knees shining her light. She touches the tree stump, looking up. “Jonathan?” she shouts, looking around. I search as well thinking he was with us, but he’s nowhere to be seen. It would be unwise to leave Nancy here alone to look for him. We were better sticking together. When I turn back however, Nancy is taking off her backpack placing it beside her bat. My eyes widen. “You’re not seriously going in there!”

“Watch my stuff.”

“Are you crazy?” I snap.

That mucus could be toxic or worse. There was no need to go inside the clearly rotting tree. Nancy ignores me crawling inside. I am lost for words because not only can she fit inside; her body completely disappears as if there was an opening on the other side. I blink, shaking my head, feeling disembodied.

“Nancy?”

Adrenaline bursts through my veins to prepare myself to fight or flee. I feel like I am back in Steve’s backyard keeping watch while Nancy does something completely foolish like walk into the forest on her own or like now, crawling into a slime coated hollow stump. I curse colourful words under my breath that would shock my Dad. I can’t leave her alone. So, I take off my backpack and put the mallet on top; count down from five in my head and crawl through the hole holding my breath hopefully awaiting Nancy on the other side.

CHAPTER 6: THE MONSTER

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