Royal Pain || Stranger Things

twenty-nine || soviet fashion

A/N: As a decent chunk of conversation this chapter and the next is going to be in Russian, I'm not going to force y'all through me pretending to know Russian and let you guys just assume after a certain point that they're not speaking English anymore.

"It's Billy. He's in trouble. The gate, it opened, just for a moment. Azathoth got a piece of him out. Part of him is there, on your side. He's taken Billy as a host."

"Azathoth?"

"The beast that rules this world. The one that wants to eat yours. He will slowly try to build unless you can stop him. But your friends can take care of that. You need to keep the gate closed. You need to stop the Russians from letting more of him out. He'll build so much quicker if you can't keep it shut."

"What do I do?"

"Destroy the machine."

The distant hum of Russian lulled her from her sleep, bouncing off of sterile walls and forcing their way into Tatum's headspace. Hefty footfall in the distance and a crackling television relaying a football match taking place clear across the world.

The imagine of Nina, grown and as beautiful as ever, trapped behind enemy lines, faded from Tatum's mind as she slowly blinked in her surroundings, the whiteness of it all giving her a pounding headache.

"Ah, she finally joins us."

"Do you lot have to be so loud?" she asked, voice groggy with sleep. As she tried to shift to make herself more comfortable while the world was still coming into view, she wasn't able to lift her hands more than an inch from where they were held. Letting her head lower to truly take it all in, she wiggled her wrists against the straps currently restraining her to a wooden chair. "Are you really so scared of a teenage girl?" she mocked. "Quite rude, if you ask me."

"No one asked."

"You're just lovely, aren't you?" Tatum questioned as she rolled her head to the side, two men in classic soviet uniforms lingering at a large desk in the corner of the room.

Neither looked much older than Ben, both donning stark features and unbothered expressions. In a sense, neither of them looked very important.

Guards, most likely, she thought as she studied the pale brunets. "Vody?"

The men exchanged confused looks before one of them punched the other, who promptly scampered out of the room.

Tatum winced against a throbbing on her arm, drawing her focus from the soviet soldiers to the numbers branded into her arm. "Zero twelve?" she asked, voice raising as she pulled her left arm up as much as she could. "You tattooed me in my sleep?"

"That's how they kept track of the others," the remaining guard replied, his English heavily accented. "They were successful in opening the gate. It is good luck."

Her eyes peeled from the branding that reflecting the markings that El, Nina and all of the others used by Brenner over to the man who seemed less than enthused to be stuck with her. "I would like to speak to Alexei."

His face scrunched. "How do you know who that is?"

"You have no idea the things I know or what I can do."

The room door swung open, the second soldier returning with a glass of water.

It was clear that they hadn't the slightest clue how Tatum's abilities worked when the guard that had remained whispered to the other that she wanted to speak to Alexei.