⸻ ❛𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐈 𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐎𝐒!❜
Rory Hargrove is obsessed to uncover the truth behind Barbara Holland's disappearance, while facing her brother's enemy and buried secrets from...
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THEIR FEET SANK INTO THE DAMP, STICKY EARTH, producing a strangely crackling, snapping sound that echoed through the forest. They didn't dare look down — not a single inch of skin was free from a sticky layer of grime.
Aurora instinctively matched her pace to Nancy's, who walked beside her, equally lost in thought, the flashlight illuminating the ground in front of them. She tilted her head slightly, searching for the perfect angle to catch the features of Nancy's face — weary, both physically and mentally.
They had been walking for what felt like almost an hour. Despite their urgency, no one dared to run, risking the attention of unwelcome entities if they stepped on a vine.
Rory told herself not to look too far around, to avoid letting her eyes play tricks and make the shadows seem more than shadows. But it was impossible — in this place, one was always alert, even sleeping with one eye open and the other shut.
She wanted to get their business done and leave. Next time they returned to take down Vecna, she would bring supplies — especially water. She refused to relive the nightmare of drinking the tiny drops of greenish water trickling from the taps. Now, it dripped harmlessly from the trees like morning dew.
She swallowed, her imagination pretending to taste the liquid as it slid down her throat.
Walking through the Upside Down stirred a chilling familiarity; her eyes felt haunted, carrying the sensation that she had never truly left this place. A shiver ran through her body, inevitably sending small ripples that awakened dark memories, raising the hairs on her skin.
"Cold?" Nancy asked in a solemn tone, as if asking a simple question, like whether she wanted coffee.
Like a gust of wind, Nancy's voice blew Rory's wandering thoughts away.
"Uh? Oh, no... just a shiver of... nostalgia, I guess." She ran her hands instinctively over her exposed arms, while her back was protected by Eddie's cool jacket — he had tossed it to Steve, declaring it for his modesty. But it didn't matter much, because her overprotective boyfriend insisted she wear the jacket to shield herself from the cold. Harrington stood bare-chested, a strip of Rory's now-torn polo wrapped around his wounded abdomen.
"It must have been awful to be stuck here so many days," Nancy said, gazing ahead, exhaling a long, quiet sigh.
Rory wished she could truly understand what was going on with Nancy. She felt it in her aura — something was off, like a magnet inside her friend that Rory Hargrove could sense.
Then, as if triggered by her thoughts, a spark crossed her vision at the same moment it touched Nancy's mind, letting her hear, faintly and distantly, the voices of Nancy's own thoughts.
