Will the Wise

Chapter 1

November 6th, 1983, Hawkins, Indiana, Evening

This story starts in the garage of a house, in the suburbs of a town called Hawkins, Indiana, where four boys were getting ready to go home.

Soon, everything was going to change. Soon, one of them would be lost, and things would change beyond imagining for the entire town. Soon, they would learn more about their world, and other worlds, than they ever wanted to know. But for now, they were just a group of friends, geeky, weird, and not popular by any standards, heading home after playing Dungeons and Dragons.

Dustin and Will were taking the road down towards Mirkwood, even though it gave them both the heebie-jeebies. There was just something about the trees towering up on each side, the darkness within the woods. The branches that reached their frail fingers up, and sliced through the sky. How there were never any people on it, never any houses.

It was late though, almost past their curfew. Taking the shortcut through the woods was the only way to get home on time.

As usual, Dustin took the job of distraction. "Race you to my house! Whoever gets there first gets a comic book."

"Any comic book?" Will asked, looking over with a mischievous spark in his eye.

Dustin nodded, not seeing Will's impish smile in the dark. Will started pedaling faster, tearing away down the road and ahead of Dustin. "Hey! I didn't say start!"

"I'll take your X-Men one-three-four!" Will yelled gleefully, all thoughts of monsters, kidnappers, and ghosts gone.

"Get back here!" Dustin yelled, standing up on his pedals. "Get back here, you son of a bitch!" But Will was already speeding off, past Dustin's house. Dustin sank back onto his bike, defeated. "Son of a bitch," he said again, quieter, watching Will disappear down the street.

Will, meanwhile, had slowed down too, his fear coming back full force. A mist had settled over the street, and it had been turned eerie orange by the streetlights. Everything was still. Completely silent. There wasn't even a squirrel dashing up a tree, or a car in the distance. Will couldn't hear anything outside of himself, and it only made it easier to imagine something bursting, slithering, tumbling, roaring out of the woods.

He pedalled faster.

He knew that there weren't any actual monsters out there, that he was being stupid, but he was still afraid. So he tried to think about something rational. Or not to think at all. Just bike. Listen to what was around him.

He could hear himself breathing. The squeaking of his bicycle chains. And, was that –

Chirping?

Chittering?

It sounded almost like a bird on a spring's day, but ominous, menacing. Besides, it wasn't spring, or day. It was late fall, and cold, and –

An extraordinarily tall figure was suddenly on the street in front of him, swaying lightly back and forth with each step. Not exactly swaying, though. Swaying was a relaxing word, and there was nothing remotely relaxing about this.

Will swerved his bike off of the road, and into the woods. Something about that creature had been, well. Terrifying described it best. Strange. Inhuman. The arms that reached its knees. Its jerking, rough, shaking steps. The way it was coming directly towards him, like it had a purpose.

Will's bike hit a rock that was jutting sharply out of the ground, almost before he even saw it. He crashed to the ground, but pushed himself up immediately, moaning, and dashed deeper into the trees. If he could just get through Mirkwood and find his way home, he could find Jonathon, or his mom, and they could help him. Call the police, or something, he didn't know. But they would know something.

After what felt like forever, he reached the road again. He kept running, towards his house – thank god thank god thank god his house, which was right there, on the other side of the road.

He dashed up to the door, not letting himself look back, and, fumbling a little with the doorknob, let himself in. His dog was waiting inside (fur standing up, barking), and, for the first time in he didn't know how long, he didn't greet it. Instead, he just pushed past, and ran to Jonathon's bedroom.

"Jonathon?" He cried. "Mom?" He opened all the doors in the hallway, still calling, but no one answered.

He'd always thought that if something like this happened – if he was afraid, for any reason – he would freeze. He wouldn't know what to do. But somehow, even though there was no one to help him, and there was a monster outside his house, and he knew – he didn't know how, but he knew – that it was coming to kill him, he still kept moving. He turned around and hurried to the window, pushing the blinds aside and looking out.

A figure, rocking side to side with each step, arms reaching its knees, face somehow... wrong, was walking across his yard. Straight towards his house.

Will gasped involuntarily, and crawled off the couch, running for the phone. He yanked it off its base and, with shaking fingers, dialed 911. "Hello?" He pressed it to his ear, feeling somehow shaky and more aware of every limb, every finger, than he'd ever been.

His dog barked.

He stepped out into the hall, phone still held to his ear, and watched the door. There was a shadow on the other side of it. Will told himself not to be stupid, not to run. The door was locked. Whoever – whatever that was, it couldn't get in.

The latch on the door slid open. Will stared for a moment, shocked, because what could've done that?

But there wasn't time to wonder. Within seconds, he was through the back door, leaving the phone hanging on its cord, still ringing.

The shed. He ran across the backyard, not letting himself look back because that would slow him down and he couldn't couldn't couldn't slow down or maybe it would catch him. Then he was in the shed, grabbing at bullets with unsteady fingers, and loading the shell of his dad's old shotgun. He held it towards the door (still shaking, still unable to believe that this was actually happening, that he actually might be about to die) and stood still, waiting for the creature to come in.

Nothing.

Nothing.

He heard the chittering, faint, but coming from the wrong direction. Coming from behind him.

He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise, as he turned, almost not wanting to, not wanting to see it there, looming over him.

But there it was.

Afterwards, Will wouldn't be able to explain what happened then. He would remember the creature's face opening up like a flower, and he wouldn't be sure, but he would almost remember the light shining blindingly bright.

And he would remember, in his panic, instinctively reaching deep, deep inside of himself. So far inside that he was reaching out, but out somewhere else. Like when you look at your reflection in a spoon, and the farther you get from it, the smaller you look. And then suddenly you're upside down. Like inverting light waves, that get so close together that they start spreading apart.

Will reached so far into himself that he started reaching out. And he grabbed at what he found, and yanked it.

When he opened his eyes, the world had changed. But the monster was still in front of him.

So he ran.