𝗙𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧 ━ steve harrington.

━━ prologue

zero | the prologue

HORROR IS THE BLANK CANVAS FOR TWISTED MINDS. It is the realm where the gruesome and grotesque come to life, where the fears in the trenches of the human mind are given form and no one is safe.

Horror has always been credited to the creeps, the freaks, the nerds, and the loners. Poltergeist, Nightmare on Elm Street, The Shining, you name it; they all had a reputation for doing the Devil's work.

September Williams believed she was destined to fall in love with horror. Everything autumn filled her soul with joy, which needed all of the other months when the three that sat in autumn excited. It was even in her name. September fantasized often about what she would do in those character's shoes, often criticizing them for making stupid decisions. Although Hawkins, Indiana seemed almost like a horror movie itself, one that media loving girl found herself trapped in.

The air was cold, thick with the scent of decay, as shadows twisted and danced under the dim, flickering lights of the Creel House. The once grand mansion now stood as a grim reminder of the horrors that lurked within Hawkins. In the center of the dilapidated living room, September lay motionless, eyes wide open but unseeing, caught in the merciless grip of Vecna's curse.

Her breaths came shallow and erratic, each exhaling a desperate plea for survival. The walls seemed to close in around her, suffocating, as whispers of long-forgotten nightmares echoed in the dark. She could feel Vecna's presence, a cold and unrelenting force, wrapping around her mind, dragging her deeper into an abyss of terror.

"September! Wake up!" the voice of Steve Harrington pierced through the gloom, raw with desperation. He knelt beside her, his hands trembling as he shook her shoulders, his heart pounding louder than the thunder rumbling outside.

Beside him, Robin's eyes were wide with fear, her voice breaking as she called out, "Please, September, you have to fight this! Oh god, I don't really do good with these types of things. I mean what are we supposed to say to wake her up?" The girl panicked.

The Wheeler girl stood guard, her eyes scanning the room, every creak and groan of the old house setting her nerves on edge. She gripped her shotgun tightly, her knuckles white, ready to face whatever horrors might emerge from the shadows. "We're not going to lose her," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else, as she cast a glance at Steve and Robin. "Not like this."

Inside her mind, September fought against the overwhelming darkness. She could feel Vecna's icy talons clawing at her memories, twisting them into grotesque parodies of her worst fears. Faces of friends and family distorted into monstrous visages, their voices taunting her, dragging her deeper into despair—her mother, her father, Steve— were all just pawns in Vecna's mind game.

But amidst the chaos, there was a flicker of light, a distant echo of the voices calling her name. Steve's voice. The sound of his love and desperation pierced through the veil of darkness, grounding her, and giving her a lifeline to hold onto. She had to fight. For him. For all of them.

Vecna's presence loomed larger, his sinister laughter reverberating through her mind. "You cannot escape me," he hissed, his voice a chilling whisper that sent shivers down her spine. "You will become a part of me. Help me shape this new world, end your suffering forever."

September's lifeless body began to float menacingly above her friends, her feet departing from the ground. Suddenly, a sharp, excruciating pain shot through her arm. The girl's body convulsed as her bones began to twist and snap under Vecna's control. She screamed for help, the sound raw and primal, but it was only to be heard in whatever realm the beast had taken her to. Max was beside her, suffering the same fate, although it seemed there was no one calling out to her.

Something was different. Even Steve's cries became more faint as the vines grasped around his neck and the necks of the other two girls in the room with September's limp body. Their plan was failing. Everything they had worked for and fought against was for nothing. "Ember, please," Steve croaked.

With a final, desperate push, September latched onto that voice, that love, and pulled herself back from the brink. Eleven escaped the grasp of the creatures and stuck her hand out, her telekinetic powers forcefully pushing Vecna backward. The darkness began to recede, the twisted visions fading, replaced by the familiar faces of her friends. The teenagers rushed by her side gasping for their breaths after being choked, but they were there for her.

A painful gasp of air filled September's lungs as she jolted upright, tears streaming down her face as she was pulled into Steve's embrace. Pain radiated from her broken arm and blood trickled from her eyes, but she could see, and the sight of her friends, the warmth of their presence, grounded her. "You did it," Steve whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "You're safe now."

But as she looked around the room, the lingering chill in the air and the shadows that still seemed to move on their own, she knew the fight was far from over. Vecna was still out there, and the battle for Hawkins had only just begun.