𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐂 || Will Byers x Male!Reader [✓]

━━ 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐒 - 𝐏𝟏 ━━

|| 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

His heart racing, Hopper could hear the blood pumping in his ears as he ran through the twisted corridors of the Lab. Beads of sweat dripped down his face as he swiftly maneuvered the facility be had just broken into in search of the missing boy.

"Will?" His desperate calls echoed off of the cold tile walls.

"Will?"

In the midst of his frantic haste, he had gotten turned around. The chilling corridors all seemed the same and a new wave of panic flooded him. Taking a deep breath, the chief tried his best to recompose himself. He came across a crossroads, it resembled a four-way intersection that one may find on an ominous back road in the country. He stared ahead and sighed.

Each corridor was identical to the next. Cold and unwelcoming.

"You gotta be shittin' me." He growled under his breath.

Grabbing his bearings, the man kept straight and hoped for the best.

The hallway stretched for what felt like miles, when finally, after a few turns, it came to a dead end. He looked around and noticed this was quite different than the others.

The chief's instincts that had earned him the title in the first place suggested to him that the small corner of the facility had been long forgotten. This particular area had been neglected the upkeep that was evident in the rest of the laboratory. Ahead of him lay two doors; an old broom closet, labeled as such, and a rather ominous looking door, with an accompanying window with a glimpse inside an untidy room.

This particular room piqued his interest. The door was closed, though the handle seemed to be broken, the room ajar. Hopper cautiously stepped toward the door, reaching his arm out and slowly pushed it open.

Hopper stepped inside the cluttered room, his heart racing, not knowing what to expect. It was clear that the room was designed to have a greater purpose, but had been hastily abandoned and eventually forgotten. It seemed that just about every item in the room, much like the rest of the facility, was made of steel. From the counters to the filing cabinets with half-opened drawers. His eyebrows furrowed in curiosity as he stepped inside and around the steel table to the cabinet on the opposite end of the room.

Knowing he had little time, he shone his flashlight into the drawer and he quickly rifled through the filing cabinet waiting for something that might catch his eye. Hopper sighed in disappointment when he found nothing useful. He began to shut the filing cabinet in defeat when he caught a small glimpse of a peculiar label shoved all the way to the back, almost like it was meant to be forgotten.

Tilting his head in curiosity, Hop pulled the drawer out as far as it would go and even then, the man had to reach for the file. It a wonder he caught it in the first place. He pulled it from the drawer and examined the front with haste.

The label on the edge of the manilla folder had been scratched out and written over many times that it was now indistinguishable. The front cover was all blank, except for a few words that had been scribbled in black ink.

SUBJECT 009; THE MISSING EXPERIMENT

The familiar words sparked something in Hopper. With no time to waste he shoved the file into his jacket and closed the cabinet, making a run for the door.