The Devil's Gift/The Bloody Handed

Introduction

DISCLAIMER:
ALL CHARACTERS ARE NOT MY OWN CREATION. THEY BELONG TO THE STRANGER THINGS FRANCHISE AND THE DUFFER BROTHERS! CLARY (OC) IS MY ONE AND ONLY CREATION.

I am writing this story to express creativity in another way and to add my own twist. This is an OC book because I really wanted to take my time and enrich each character as much as possible. I believe OCs allow for the reader to gain a connection. The OC does not have harsh descriptions besides hair and height for the most part; I wanted to leave it up to your guys' imagination to do the rest since it's what I enjoy to do. Sometimes it is easier making your own face than going off of word by word.

I've had trouble finding fanfictions that jump right into the dramatics. If you do like that, that's fine! However, I know me personally. I like a build up- twists and turns. I like to let personalities bleed through. Also to let Eddie's true personality bleed through. I wanted to make his story live on as we all know from what happened in Volume 2 of season 4. Stories aren't all about kissing and latching on in the first chapter, I firmly believe a story should be well executed in order to captivate the OC and their beliefs, attitude, and goals!

As a part of my writing strategy I don't use direct or word for word dialogue but instead try and focus on concocting a new theme with the same plot so that you readers get a sense of newness because I know what it's like to read the same plot over and over again :)

(Also, this will be a 2-3 book series!) I already have so many plans for it 🫶

I hope you all enjoy "Fire and Silk" ❤️ 🔥

***

You know the saying that oil and water never mix? I really can't contest to that saying. I never thought that Yin and Yang seemed right. I felt like two polar opposites could never attract. They say it as some sort of enlightening way to create "equity" and "balance" but let me tell you something. I am a nerd who is introverted. Why in the world would I ever go to some stereotypical pep rally or meet up behind bleachers for a quick make out sesh or to buy drugs? I stayed in my own bubble and it has served me well so far I must admit.

My temporary town was very small. Slap dab right underneath Atlanta, Georgia stood right above Jackson. I attended Jackson High for the last six months. I can't really say I grew up here because I grew up everywhere. I've bounced around with my parents to Indiana, Georgia, Florida, North Carolina, and so on. My parents did not understand stability if it slapped them in the face. I blame them for the way I turned out but I can't at the same time. If I had grown up in a town where I was able to make long term friends then I would probably have ended up like my cousin. He was the most self conceited asshat you could meet, but he was popular and his name was always in the Hawkins newspaper.

"Jason Carver, Hawkins'  Favorite Senior Scores  in Final Basketball Tournament."

I wanted to gag just thinking about it. How about: "Jason Carver, Hawkin's Most Stuck Up Pretty Boy at it Again With the Narcissistic Tendencies." Jason and his girlfriend Chrissy would visit us but more so, we would visit Hawkins. Our parents were polar opposites. Jason's were rich and privileged and mine were.. well.. outcasts of the family you might say. As of right now, we live in a fifth wheel trailer with peeling paint on the walls which was said to be done months ago. We travel but it was for a reason. No one knew, but we travelled for Mom's cancer. It was caught early but it's been hard to find decent medical care and to decide whether or not she wants to go through the pain of chemotherapy.

I put down my pen, my hands aching. I hold my index finger and it relieves itself with a crack. I stare up at my desk of a photo with the three of us. Mom was smiling and wearing her favorite blue polka dotted dress and fedora that Dad loved. I was about eleven at the time and was wearing overall trousers with a yellow shirt.

I remember I spilled ice cream on myself that day and I never forgave myself for it because Mom had just got me that outfit that exact day and the stain never came out. I remember vigorously scrubbing it in the tub and crying for such a small reason- I never got clothes often- and I just remember her hugging me while Dad laughed in the door way, pushing up his wire glasses and readjusting his forming beer belly.

"Clarissa!" My Dad called down. Shoot- I forgot the time. I look at the clock above my bed and see that is reads 3:21 p.m. I was supposed to be out of the house twenty minutes ago. I sigh as I look over to my duffel bag packed with all of my belongings- the very little I had. Two sweatshirts, 2 pairs of jeans, 4 t-shirts, some sandals and my favorite pair of yellow high tops.

Dad and Mom were sending me away to Hawkins to reside with my aunt and uncle Carver. That meant residing with Jason as well. They want me to finish out my last year of schooling strong instead of having me possibly fail another year. I was 19 as a senior so a year behind. With all of the moving and chaos I was never able to wrap my head around schooling. Teachers loved me but I found it hard to love them or school at that.

"Coming!" I run over to my small twin bed and put my hand on the pink sheets that basically saw me grow up. I purse my lips and throw my journal and pen into the heavy bag and throw it over my bony shoulder, until- I look over my shoulder at the picture on my dresser. Something was aching and telling me to just take it. I grab it by the glass and backside and toss it into the smaller pocket so it would be safe.

I run down the hallway, my bare feet scraping against peeling wood with scratching texture written all over it. I drag my duffel bag and slide it in front of the front door, slipping on my black boots. I had a tendency to be comfortable with the color black. I only wore colorful things if Mom insisted but my casual wear consisted of a white laced tank top, a black jean jacket, and black bell bottom jeans. My hair, although long and naturally wavy, was always left to roam and to it's own freedom.

"Clary, black again?" He sighs as he looks me up and down. I give him a sly grin.

"To each their own, Dad. I love you." He purses his lips in a smile. "That's my girl." His smile faded and his eyes wander to the couch. Mom was sleeping and was still fighting and weak. I take a breath and walk over to the frail piece of fabric. Her breathing was deep, and she was extremely out of it. Her blonde hair was short and matted, thinning out finally after months. I wasn't sure where I got the red hair from. Her skin was more pale than usual and her freckles sunk into her skin. She just seemed like she could rip at anyone fingertips.

Her eyes seemed like she was in a coma and never coming out of it. I lean down and kiss her forehead, her body reacting very minimally. I immediately nod at Dad, speed walk to grab my duffel, and exit out the front door as soon as I felt my eyes burn with tears that felt like chemicals.

I hop into my aunt's van and stare at the window to the trailer. My dad stood there with his arms crossed as if he knew something I didn't. The look he gave me was magnetic as if he would never see me again. We didn't talk much anymore ever since Mom's diagnosis and it kind of scared me. I didn't even feel like I was in my own home anymore. It felt like a morgue waiting to happen. A ticking time bomb. I needed to do this for Mom even if I didn't want to.

I've accepted her death months ago. And I know she is not the type to continue to suffer and keep everyone watch her. I've said my goodbyes when she opened her eyes the other day. Doctors want her to start chemotherapy but instead she insisted on going home. It could just me being paranoid, but I know my mother more than anyone else on this earth.

"You're not.. going to say hello at least?" I look over to my Aunt Barb and swallow.

She shakes her head and tightens her grip on the wheel. Her eyes squint underneath her sunglasses and her blonde curled bob waves outside of the window. "There's no need to. She will be fine, when has she not." She sad as flat as ever.

I swallow again and nod. "Yeah, yeah. You're right." The tension was thick and I wanted to cut it to release the tension but there was absolutely no use in it. This family got as stubborn as stubborn could get.