❝ you walk hand in hand with the
omen of death, don't you, harrington?
but, somehow, you're the only one
i can't run away from. ❞
→ 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 she claims to hate him, but fate decided to prove her wrong.
or two teens who think they're nothi...
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STANDING ATOP A RISE OF DRY ROCK, Rory's blue eyes flicked from one side of the horizon to the other as demogorgons emerged, their growls echoing toward her like an unwanted gust of wind striking her face.
"What— We need to warn the others and get out of here," Mrs. Byers said anxiously behind Rory, seeing what was happening before them. "Right now!" Meanwhile, Will was still inside Vecna's mind, attacking him by channeling his powers into himself.
The girl swallowed hard. "They're busy back there defeating that giant monster." She glanced over her shoulder to confirm her words. "So it's up to us." She concluded, already breathless just from thinking about what she was going to do.
When she turned back to the horizon before her, the demos were getting closer and closer, running on all fours to come to their master's aid.
Rory's mind began working at full speed, searching for a brilliant solution to keep death from surrounding them.
At that moment, the Turnbows' chainsaw would have been so useful. Her brain imagined itself in an original version of Rambo so she could swiftly tear apart the demos that would appear in front of her.
But she had none of that there. And she knew from experience that demogorgons had some resistance to gunfire—but even if she had one, she would use it. But she didn't even have that. Not even a damn lighter. Letting Steve carry all their weaponry hadn't been a good idea.
And time to think was scarce. She had to act with the weapons she had. And the only one she had was her mind.
She had already managed to enter the Mindflayer's mind once, confusing its memories. So entering the tiny brains of those creatures, through the power of the hive mind, would be a piece of cake to annihilate them.
She clenched her teeth hard, and small spasms appeared in the muscles of her face. She planted her feet more firmly in the sand and flexed her fingers against her palms.
Despite the fear she felt, she couldn't focus on it, otherwise it wouldn't work. She took a deep breath, squeezed her eyes shut, and soon began to see stars trembling at the corners of her vision as she tried to remember the path to their twisted minds.
With her feet firmly planted on the ground, Rory Hargrove clenched her fists and lifted her arms slightly to try to enter all their minds collectively and control them at the same time.
With her eyes squeezed shut, her senses were on edge. She felt blood running from her nostrils, thick and warm. She stretched her arms forward, palms open, to make contact with the creatures easier.
