Ptolemaea | Henry Creel

Small Town Visit

It was early morning when I reached my destination, around three o'clock.

As soon as I saw that unassuming, pinewood sign, it greeted me with the words, 'Welcome To Hawkins.' As I passed it, I felt a tangible shift in the air that weighed heavy on my skin for the remainder of the night. In a last-ditch effort to distract myself, I turned on the radio. It crackled to life, loud enough to keep thoughts from spilling into my head.

I didn't think about the last time I saw that sign. How I had stumbled in bloodied clothing, my head pounding and my thumb aching after hours of trying to hitchhike a ride.

It would be better this time, I told myself.

With that thought in mind, I had pulled into an empty parking lot and gone to sleep.

I hoped my sleep would be dreamless. Black and empty, a momentary respite from reality before the next day came. I was wrong.

I dreamt of the lab. Panic surged through me as I stood, surrounded by white walls that were now only a short drive away. When I chose to live in Maine, I was comforted by the knowledge there were now thousands of miles between myself and my past. I couldn't lean into that fact anymore.

My legs were heavy as I stumbled around the Rainbow Room. I held my breath and looked to the ground, but there were no bodies this time. My shoulders relaxed. The blood had been scrubbed off of the floor, lingering only in my memory and the glare of cameras overhead. I silently thanked my mind for having some mercy on me.

The room buzzed with an energy I couldn't quite place. It was familiar and not. Whenever I thought I finally had a firm enough grasp on whatever it was, the feeling would disappear. Moments later, it would resurface and force me to start to process of identifying it all over again.

And then it heard it.

A low, menacing chime. I recognized it the moment it reached my ears, having heard the clock before. I recalled that day when Eleven and I first had a conversation and she showed me the Upside Down. A vision had flashed before my eyes, so vivid I may as well have been living it.

I turned to the source of the noise, and my breath caught.

There was something ominous about that grandfather clock, embedded into the tile like some kind of virus. The wall around it was splintered and cracked, glowing a bright red that cast the entire room in a deep, crimson haze. It looked like a smaller version of that gash Eleven had shown me. When I stepped closer, my legs felt leaden. Another chime sounded, but it seemed to be coming from everywhere but the clock.

There was movement in the Earth behind it. Through the deep red, I could see a shadow passing on the other side.

When I reached for the clock, it chimed for the third time. My outstretched fingers hesitated a few inches away. That energy I'd been sensing, it was stronger the closer I got. Whether it was coming from the clock itself or the world behind it, I couldn't be sure. Perhaps it was both.

When I pressed my fingers onto its smooth, mahogany surface, the room around me disappeared.

A loud, high-pitched ringing filled my ears, and I stumbled back. I knew what was going to happen before it did.

Just as I anticipated, visions began flashing before my eyes. That same creature from before, tall and darkened with cracked, decayed skin-- its eyes snapped open. I heard the sound of my name being called all around, low and menacing as though it had been uttered from something inhuman. My heart thundered in my chest.

I saw the insides of a house. There was something familiar about it, the sweeping archways and the stained glass rose on the door. I wanted to linger on it longer, but just like that, the picture was gone. Next, there was an attic, dark and empty with candles arranged on some makeshift altar.