𝕾𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗 - [𝗦𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗛𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗼𝗻]

𝐱𝐱𝐯𝐢𝐢. 𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 - captured

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 "𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐄." 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐓 whispered, the words plunging from her tongue like unruly vomit. She wasn't the only one to quiver before the sight, for Steve had swallowed, and Dustin's fingers looked as though they'd burst from the force of the fists they'd created.

 It was a nightmare. Plain and simple... though not actually simple at all. Everything they had buried and left behind them, everything that came in the form of treacherous dreams keeping them up at night... it was all flooding back. But this was no fantasy. No alarm clock could save them... this was real. The Gate was right there, seemingly whispering to them as rich russet seeped from the slice upon the wall... it looked like blood within a wound.

 It was festering.

 All at once, it hit Scarlet; the pain, the terror, the guilt. Her abdomen throbbed and she'd been surprised to find that she hadn't tumbled backwards — it was like she'd been hit by the Mind Flayer all over again.

 Eleven... Will... they didn't need this. They didn't deserve this. Why did it have to happen again? Why did they have to be put on the chopping block with their eyes peeled open to watch as their nightmares gathered like soldiers upon the front line?

 Scarlet felt her stomach twist once more, like ocean waves battering relentlessly against craggy rocks... She was going to hurl. It was all too much; she liked to pretend that the Mind Flayer didn't visit her at night, or whenever she heard the chime of a clock... but it did. With every bit of shut-eye, she could see it once more. Tall, invasive and utterly terrifying. Nothing short of a monster.

 A hand clasped her own, and it was just as clammy as her palms. Steve yanked her wrist, his other hand at Dustin's spine, "Come on, we gotta get out of here." His voice was a baritone and dreadful whisper to remind them all that if they were just a little noisier, they'd likely feel their organs pop beneath the weight of firing bullets.

 Steve knew the look her eyes harboured; distress. But it pained him to know that the look she held and cradled like a babbling child... wasn't for herself, not even a speck. Steve knew Scarlet couldn't have cared less about what would happen to her — she only cared about the others. About himself. About Robin, Dustin, Erica and everyone else back atop the surface.

 It infuriated him.

 He tugged her along.

 "I don't understand." Robin hopped down the final step, a single pace behind Steve and Scarlet whose hands were still firmly locked together. They'd need a crowbar to pry them apart, she thought. "You guys have seen this before?"