𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇 // ᵐⁱᵏᵉ ʷʰᵉᵉˡᵉʳ ¹

01

𝟬𝟭
𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱

𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋, her thoughts wandering as the crisp autumn air nipped at her cheeks. The streets of Hawkins were quiet, the kind of quiet that felt almost eerie after the bustling chaos of school. Leaves crunched beneath her sneakers, and the sky above was beginning to turn a dusky orange as the day slipped into evening.

    Steve Harrington was already home when she arrived, his car parked haphazardly in the driveway. The house was as it always was—an empty silence that swallowed sound, punctuated by the occasional creak of the old wooden floors. Elise tossed her backpack onto the couch, the weight of the school day lifting slightly from her shoulders. She heard the familiar clatter of Steve rummaging through the kitchen, probably looking for something to eat.

    "Steve?" she called out, kicking off her shoes by the door. She didn't expect an answer, not really. Their interactions had been reduced to monosyllabic grunts and the occasional snide comment, each of them too stubborn to bridge the growing distance between them.

    "Yeah?" Steve's voice echoed from the kitchen, followed by the sound of the refrigerator door slamming shut.

    Elise rolled her eyes and wandered into the kitchen. Steve was leaning against the counter, a bottle of Coke in one hand and a sandwich in the other. He glanced up at her, his expression as nonchalant as ever.

    "Busy day?" she asked, more out of habit than genuine curiosity.

    "Same as always," Steve replied, taking a swig from the bottle. "How about you? Avoiding your homework again?"

    Elise narrowed her eyes at him. "I'll get to it. Besides, it's not like you're the poster child for academic excellence."

    "Hey, I'm doing just fine," Steve retorted, whatever face expression he had, falling. "You, on the other hand, might want to reconsider that attitude before it gets you into trouble."

    She folded her arms, leaning against the doorframe. "What trouble? It's Hawkins, Steve. The most exciting thing that happens here is when the power goes out for a couple of hours."

    Steve shrugged, unconcerned. "You never know. This town has its secrets."

    Elise rolled her eyes again, but there was a part of her that wondered if Steve was right. Lately, there had been a strange feeling in the air, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. She pushed the thought aside, chalking it up to her overactive imagination. After their brief exchange, Steve returned to his sandwich, and Elise, feeling a mix of boredom and restlessness, wandered into the living room. The house, with its dim lighting and outdated furniture, always felt a bit too big for just the two of them. Their parents were often absent, caught up in their own lives, leaving Elise and Steve to fend for themselves. It wasn't that Elise minded the independence—it's just that the silence of the house often pressed down on her, like a heavy blanket.

    Elise plopped down on the couch, staring at the TV without really seeing it. The usual sitcoms played in the background, the canned laughter grating on her nerves. She reached for the remote, flipping through channels until she landed on a news report.

    "—another unexplained incident near Mirkwood," the anchor was saying, his tone grim. "Authorities are still investigating the cause of the strange occurrences reported by several residents in the area. No injuries have been reported, but officials are urging caution and advising against unnecessary travel after dark."