⠀⠀17. AGONIZING TRUTH

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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

❛ AGONIZING TRUTH ❜

it sounds terrible.

                IN AN INSTANT, HE WAS THROWN OFF AND FELL HARD onto the rock surface, which was completely dry

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                IN AN INSTANT, HE WAS THROWN OFF AND FELL HARD onto the rock surface, which was completely dry. Even though the environment was humid, it wasn't water that dampened it.

He coughed compulsively to get rid of the remaining water in his lungs. He grunted and complained of a backache. How aggressive, damn it. The creatures in that place don't seem to like being observed or having their personal space invaded. The vines were still wrapped around his body, pinning him to the ground.

Steve reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocketknife. He lifted the blade and slashed through the tentacles with all his strength, slicing through the vines that were trapping him and clinging to him like leeches. The sound of the blade penetrating their slimy bodies was followed by the high, angry squeals of the wounded vines. He threw them off, and Harrington gasped heavily when he was finally free of them.

He struggled to stand, still massaging his back and where his neck had been strangled. He swallowed dryly, feeling a burning sensation in his throat. Steve lifted his face to look around, eyes wide and lips parted.

"What the hell?..." He muttered between his teeth, frowning, his hand still on his sore stomach.

He couldn't believe what he saw. He was in a place as dark as they come. In the Upside Down. A morbid, parallel version of his reality, expressing the fury of dead nature.

A shiver ran down his spine as the lightning broke the dark sky into red spots, bright lights that illuminated his dirty, damp skin. The stinking dust that defined that place, and the sticky trail left by the vines, was already soaked into his body and clothes.

He started walking towards the forest, cautious, but determined. His heart pounded in his chest, threatening to explode.

He needed to get home, not far from Lover's Lake. His theory about the lamp —glowing on its own that Halloween night —suggested Rory had been there too. But in the Upside Down.

With his flashlight aimed at the ground, he navigated his way home. The cold made his chin tremble, and he kept his gaze down, refusing to look at the shifting shadows around him—afraid of what he might see.

The trees all looked the same in the darkness of this place's eternal night. He tried to orient himself, to exercise his weakened brain as much as he could, still demanding intensive oxygenation. In addition to his concentration, he had to keep his ears to the ground, listening to know if he was being followed.

Even on the damp forest floor, he found something glittering among the vines that intertwined like roots.

He frowned and slowly knelt down to hold what he found between his fingers— it was a small piece of white fabric. It looked as if it had been torn. And it has a few small blood stains on it. There was no doubt— it was a piece of Rory's dress.

𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐘. ˢᵗᵉᵛᵉ ʰᵃʳʳⁱⁿᵍᵗᵒⁿWhere stories live. Discover now