Bloody Negatives {Stranger things}

Chapter Twenty-Four

《Chapter Twenty-Four》
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Tally stared at the empty coke can in front of him with the same resentment a fly might have for a spider.

"This isn't working," He complained, shifting slightly so he could rest his chin on the wooden dining table. "I don't even know where to start."

Nancy made a humming noise under her breath.

"How does El usually do it?" Steve asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down next to Tally.

"I don't know, she just... concentrates," Max remarked, shrugging.

"Yeah, that's what I'm doing," Tally scowled bitterly.

"Clearly not focusing hard enough," Robin said sarcastically, causing Tally to practically glare daggers at her.

"You can take a break if you need to," Nancy said, putting her hand on his shoulder, causing chills to dart through his entire body.

A break from what? He wanted to say. It wasn't like he was doing anything. He was just being completely useless. As usual. He shook his head rapidly, refusing to give up again.

"Tally don't push yourself," Steve sighed in an annoyingly parental tone.

Tally closed his eyes tightly, anger building up inside of him rapidly.

A few of the others made similar comments, telling Tally it was okay to rest. He couldn't tell who exactly. All the voices were blurring together.

His eyes opened and he slammed his fist down on the table loud enough that all the voices in the room ceased immediately.

Though that wasn't the only think that Tally did.

The coke can had crinkled. Then crunched. Then flattened out on the table.

"Holy shit," Dustin said, grinning.

"Holy shit," Tally echoed, starring at the can of soda, now reduced to nothing more than a scrap of metal.

"Emotion," Nancy said, eyes widening with a childlike sense of awe. "El always channels her emotion."

Tally pushed himself away from the table, almost falling backwards in his chair. His head was now in so much pain he wasn't even sure how to describe it. "Holy shit."

Robin seemed to be the first one to notice Tally freaking out.

"Hey, hey," she said, slight panic rising in her voice. "It's okay, you're okay."

Breathing didn't come easy. It was like no air was actually getting to his lungs, just sitting in his throat, doing nothing.

Someone touched his shoulder. This touch wasn't reassuring like Nancy's was. It was cold. Eerie. Slightly nauseating.

"Tally."

The voice made him want to scream. It was like a dagger, flying into his head, burrowing deep into him mind.

His eyes were open, but he couldn't see. It was like his eyes weren't processing light.

His heart was beating so quickly, he thought he might be having a stroke. It was quite possibly the worst thing he'd ever experienced, though at the same time, it was oddly familiar.

"Tally."

The boy tried to move, though every part of his body was completely numb.

"Tally."

He clearly couldn't speak, so Tally thought. He thought as hard as he could. He thought more than he'd ever thought in his entire life.

Who are you? his brain questioned.

"It doesn't matter," the voice replied. Every syllable tore at Tally's head like a knife, pulling apart his brain, eager to dissect every part.

It was agonizing.

What do you want from me? Tally tried to ask, though it was rather difficult.

"You'll see."

That was the end of it. After the sound stopped, Tally was back in the Wheelers' basement. Sitting behind the scratched-up wooden table, staring at the crumpled can of coke.

"Tally?"

He jumped at the sound of his name. This wasn't the chilling, horrific voice he'd heard a few seconds ago. This one was warm, hopeful with a hint of concern.

This one belonged to Nancy Wheeler.

"What the fuck," Tally exclaimed loudly, barely believing that what he'd just experienced was real. "What the fuck?"

"Calm down," Nancy reached for his hand, eyes panicked.

Tally trembled. Something was happening to him. Something very, very bad.

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