𝗨𝗚𝗟𝗬 // 𝗦𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗛𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗼𝗻

060

A crackle in the speakers, a mangled, dark voice that threatens to break through at any moment,

"What a foolish girl..."

As he speaks, I begin to board up the doors of Starcourt mall, shifting chairs and tables that squeak as I drag them across the floor.

"Thinking I wouldn't figure out your little plan."

In the middle of the mall once more, my eyes are squeezed tight as I recall the memories over and over, familiar faces flashing over the dark of my eyelids. I resist the urge to pick at skin, ignore the anxiety in my veins.

"You thought.. you could trick me? That your friends could stop me?"

Happy memories are replaced with horrors of the unknown, images of my friends crying and screaming for help.

"I see them.. I feel them dying."

Suddenly the images are clearer, Nancy and Robin trapped against the walls of the Creel home, tentacles cutting off their breathing slowly and painfully as they cry out for Steve, who's panicking as he attempts to snap me out of my trance.

Dustin alone in the trailer, why is he alone in the trailer? And then my question is answered as the image of Eddie riding a bike follows, luring the bats away. Why is he doing that? That wasn't the plan.

Max in a dark room, flickering lights, eyes rolled backwards, that's the next picture he shows me.
It's all a lie, it has to be.
Why would he target both of us at once? There's no point.

"I see them just as clearly as I see you."

"Bullshit," I let out through gritted teeth, eyes flying open at the sound of soft cracking above me, the glass banisters on the floors above suddenly adorned with a single long thin line that slowly slithered forward.

It all happens so quick, the glass shatters, I shield myself, hiding beneath my arms as shards cut at my skin, the pain so piercing despite the fact that I'm stuck inside the mind, my real body elsewhere.

Every floor rains glass from above that never stops showering as I run and take cover, sliding under a bench that sits by the front doors I had recently boarded up, now free of the tables and chairs I moved.

My brows furrow as I squint, the once fashionable doors of Starcourt Mall are now replaced with an old, distinguished looking door, a familiar glass stained window staring back at me.

I slide myself back out from the bench, running backwards to the furthest wall away from the door, cracking beneath my feet as my shoes are stabbed repeatedly with sharp shards.

He walks slowly and with purpose, waltzing through the doors as if this task were a bother to him, as if he doesn't care. As if I were just a back up.

I know it's fake.
If it weren't he wouldn't be here.

I never break eye contact, staring into the soul that once was, "Didn't you hear? I'm not afraid of you anymore."

As he finally reaches the middle of the room where I only recently stood, Vecna tilts his tentacle covered head, "let's see about that."

***

THIRD PERSON

Steve's hope was fading as he slapped headphones back on acorn hair, turning the same music on as Madonna rung through the room once more and he shook and shook the girl in-front of him.
But no matter how much he tried her brown eyes were stained white, unmoving.