This Means War // Billy Hargrove x Reader

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

It took a while but finally, at last a few words came out of it all. They were talking to Will out there, sharing fond memories to try and connect with the part of him that was still himself, so he could pass on the letters needed to get rid of this mind flayer once and for all.

Nancy was in charge of writing down the letters, the rest of you huddled around the table as you waited for the shreds of information you were given. Eventually, the words spell out "CLOSE GATE" on the writing pad before you.

You're all focused on it when the phone suddenly rings, a shrill noise that inspires panic and fear in the group since it could tell Will where you were. You rush across the room, picking it up and slamming it back down again with force, heavy and anxious breaths seeping from your lungs. "Fuck..." You whisper, staring at the offending plastic in hand.

It rings again and in your panic you tear it from the wall, disconnecting it and tossing it down the hall with a grunt. 

"Do you think he heard that?" Max wonders, brows knitted together in anticipation. "It's just a phone..." Steve muses, "It could be anywhere. Right?"

As if on cue, monstrous screeching sounds in the distance, blossoming the bubble of fear that sat in the depths of your stomach. You all move closer to where it sounded, knowing that the ringing of the phone had fucked up your plan. 

They were coming. 

Jonathan carries his now-sedated brother back in, his mom and your brother following behind him with Hop coming in after a few seconds with the family rifle in hand. He grabs his own gun as well, instructing everyone to get back away from the window where you were all standing. 

You get in front of your brother, a protective arm reaching over him to keep him behind you as your heart raced, your other hand clutching a carving knife you'd taken from the kitchen and holding it out in defense. He doesn't move, doesn't fight you, just stays where he is with his own breath ragged and deep. He was scared too, not that he'd admit it as he held up a metal trophy - the first weapon he could grab, you guess. Better than nothing, all the same.

"You know how to use this?" Hop asks Jonathan while holding out a rifle, who hesitates long enough for your sister to chime in. "I can." She says, taking the piece from him and sparing you a knowing look. One that told you she could do it. 

You knew she'd been practicing, but you hadn't seen her in action for a while and were a fraction worried she might be rusty. Still, it was better she do it than Jonathan who apparently didn't know how to do it at all.

There was a trilling sound coming from outside, crackling and snarling at the residents inside the house. It groans and screeches, until a gurgling cry replaces it. There was silence after that, a seemingly endless emptiness that skyrocketed your fear until something comes crashing through the window, making you jump.

Palms sweaty, you clutch tightly to the knife as you edge closer and the form comes into shape before you. It was one of the 'demo-dogs' as Dustin had called them, though it was dull and lifeless, an empty slump on the floor.

"Is it dead?" Max asks, though you hadn't the answer for her. It certainly looked it but you couldn't be sure. 

Before you can get closer, the locks on the front door begin to click and turn, drawing everyone's attention to it. Holding your knife higher, you plant your feet, ready to attack whatever was about to come through and stepping away from your brother to move closer to it, hoping to get enough slash's in to take it down before it could get to him.

None of that would be necessary though, no -- because the figure that enters the unlocked door was no danger to any of you. She was older now, at least she looked it. Her hair had grown out ever so slightly and dark liner was smudged around her eyes.