She was the second. She was the prodigy. She was the replacement for the failed 001.
During the Massacre of Hawkins Lab, 002 took the chance to escape.
Years have passed and now 002, Marilyn Granner, lives a normal life in the bussing city of New Y...
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The darkness was suffocating. She was drowning in an endless sea of death and malice. Her fight-or-flight initiated at last when it felt as if the darkness grabbed at her heart, already beating erratically, and tried to pop it like a grape. The lights in Marilyn Granner's industrial studio apartments flashed angrily, and the young teen tossed and turned in her bed before finally shooting up. The bustling night of Manhattan paid no attention to the distress, and the noise from the streets never quietened. Marilyn's brown eyes frantically searched around the quiet apartment for any sign of danger, yet came up empty.
Marilyn's breath was erratic as she wiped the sweat away from her brows. The nightmares had been persistent for the past three days, and the teen could feel the exhaustion creeping into her eyes immediately after coming to her senses. Despite the tiredness, Marilyn knew it would be impossible to fall asleep. Every time she closed her eyes for the next few hours, she would be reminded of the suffocating evil she associated with the void.
"Jesus fucking christ," Marilyn groaned as she grabbed the covers and tossed them off. The muscles in her damaged legs tinged with weakness which was typical for the mornings. So, to avoid falling to her knees when she stepped out of bed, Marilyn called forth her vectors. The intangible arms sprouted from her back before planting themselves steady. Her body lifted and appeared to be floating a few inches. Levitating herself to the kitchen, Marilyn sighed as she grabbed a glass of water. After dosing her parched and scratched throat, Marilyn sighed. She had gotten home late that night as Bianca had kept her out while planning a party she wanted to throw for her birthday, and now the constant nightmares were stealing even more hours of her sleep.
Bianca Granner was Marilyn's first and only friend in Manhattan. They had met shortly after Bianca found a scared and hungry 14-year-old Marilyn on the corner of a street in front of her at-the-time foster home. Bianca was understandably frightened and worried about the young girl's condition. New York nights got incredibly cold during winter, and snow coated the ground. Marilyn was dressed in baggy, very worn jeans and an oversized hoodie gifted to her by a young boy she had met in the woods the night she escaped from that awful place. Doing little to keep heat, Marilyn was borderline hypothermic, tired, and very hungry. The young Bianca wasted little time guiding the young, disabled girl into her home. Bianca's foster parents, Helen and John Granner, accepted Marilyn with open arms and nursed her back to health. She was adopted a year later.
The young couple was like a godsend to Marilyn. They helped sniff most of the bad memories from Hawkins and replaced them with new memories. New memories of family and love. Except now, those feelings of darkness and evil were resurfacing. Marilyn knew where it was coming from but didn't want to imagine ever returning. The young girl set down her now empty glass with a clink and ran her hand through her slipt-dyed hair. Pink and black strands fell into her face when she turned to the back wall, which was one large window. Her fairy lights were strung around it and lit up her reading nook. The rest of her apartment was left in darkness. Marilyn crouched down onto the plush rug in the middle of the nook and stared out into the night sky.
The nightmares always left that same sinking feeling she went to sleep after her training days at the lab. Over the past five years, Marilyn tried her hardest to ignore her past and forget her miserable childhood. Yet she knew that, as long as his blood coursed through her veins, Hawkins and all the dark shit attached, she would never truly escape it. These nightmares were only proof of this. After years of ignoring her past, it returned to haunt her throughout the night. "This is probably a really stupid idea," Marilyn said to the night sky as she crossed her legs and rested her arms on her knees.
It had been over two years since she had stepped into the void by projecting her mind. Even if she would rather ignore the sinking feeling in her gut, Marilyn knew something from her past was chasing after her and gaining distance every day. Settling her mind, Marilyn transcended into the plane of darkness. Everything was empty for a second until she was brought into a room she was very familiar with. "The tank..." Marilyn said as she touched the empty tank she had spent hours in. She could also count how many she broke during her years at Hawkins Laboratory on two hands. Cramming all eight of her vectors into that tank was never enjoyable. Suddenly, it felt like the darkness was crawling up her spine. Spinning around, Marilyn was met with a grotesque break in the wall. Tentacle-like veins crawled out of the rift of space and time, and it glowed a menacing scarlet red.
Panic ensued in her heart as she began to hyperventilate. The portal spewed malicious intent and scared her to her core. Suddenly a loud, screeching roar echoed through the void, coming from the portal, and caused Marilyn to pull herself back to her body out of fear for her safety. Coming back to sitting criss-cross on the soft rug, Marilyn tried to calm herself from the oncoming panic attack. "What the hell is going on there?" The night she escaped, Marilyn had hoped that maybe everything had ended. She had assumed that he had killed all the children and workers before getting gunned down himself. But, if Brenner had survived, it didn't surprise her if he had seen that massacre as a minor obstacle and continued where he left all, stealing more children from their parents and using them as lab rats.
Marilyn picked herself up off the ground with her vectors and walked to her dresser. She didn't like the thought of leaving without saying goodbye to her parents and sister in person, but a note would have to do. She didn't know how much time there was left. Stuffing a large duffle bag with necessities and as many clothes as she could fit, Marilyn scribbled a goodbye on a sticky note with a happy birthday for Bianca in the corner and tossed on her leather jacket. Before exiting her door, she wrapped her arms in her elbow crutches as her legs hadn't had long enough to lose the paralysis and set herself back onto the ground.
"Time for a long as fuck drive," Marilyn said with a groan and began to leave her apartment building. "Hawkins, Indiana, here I come...."
