Master of Puppets

Chapter 2

From the light of his flashlight, Dustin Henderson could barely make out the words splashed across the X-Men comic he'd begged his mom to buy him the day before. The batteries were on their last leg, however, and he had to keep turning it off and on again each time the light started to dim. When he was on the final few pages, the light dulled and went out completely.

"No, no, no - awww, come on." He huffed and smacked the flashlight, trying in vain to get it to work.

After a few failed attempts, he groaned and peeled himself out of bed, making his way downstairs. It was well after his bedtime, so he had to be quiet in order to not wake his mom. He may or may not have promised her that if she bought him the comic, he wouldn't stay up all night reading it... She should have known better, in all fairness.

He quietly crept over to the miscellaneous drawer in the kitchen and started rifling through it in search of spare batteries. After a moment of searching, he changed them out and flicked the flashlight on to test it. Suddenly, he heard a shuffling noise across the room. Startled, he shined the flashlight in that direction.

Only to find a figure, hunched over and leaning against the wall of his living room. The figure had blood dripping down his chin and smeared all over his torso and hands.

Dustin would have screamed, had he had any air in his lungs. Instead, he sputtered uselessly, shaking his head, and backing himself against the wall.

This was a ghost, a demon, something . Because what it most certainly couldn't have been - what it was not, because if it was, that would mean Dustin had gone crazy - was Eddie Munson standing in his living room, bleeding all over the carpet.

His eyes glowed like a cat under the light. Eddie held out a shaky hand and - my god, it looked... monstrous. Claws stretched from his fingers, which were black and veiny, fading off into his hands. He pushed himself from the wall and took a step towards the boy.

"Dustin," he rasped. "Hey... It's me."

"What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck..." Dustin whimpered. He reached blindly for a weapon, anything, eventually finding a spatula and thrusting it forward pathetically. "Don't come any closer!"

Eddie continued forward, and in a panic, Dustin threw the flashlight at him, his only source of light. It smacked Eddie in the gut and clattered to the floor, the light flailing wildly as it spun around and died at his feet. Eddie held both hands up now, he was still weak, but now he just looked annoyed. "I'm not gonna hurt you, dipshit."

Dustin's arm lowered slightly and his eyes widened. He stared at him for a few moments. "... Eddie?"

-

Dustin stared down at Eddie as he sat, fully clothed, in the empty bathtub. He still had his spatula, which he hadn't stopped pointing at Eddie for even a second. Eddie was washing the blood from his mouth with a wet towel. It was only just now that Dustin realized he was in the same clothes he'd been in the night they entered the upside down together. The night he... died.