Shadows of the Night •a Stranger Things story•

Wake Up

November 6th, 1983

Hawkins National Laboratory U.S. Department of Energy

It was strange, watching the nightmare. It seemed too real, too vivid and even if Chris had an imagination, this was nothing she could come up with from all the books she'd read. This was much, much worse. Like Dungeons and Dragons meets Frankenstein and—and possibly the Incredible Hulk comic books. Definitely something out of this world: something you would see in a movie.

This was no movie.

Deep down Chris knew that it was real. The realistic, psychological, behavioral, evolutionary, and primal feeling in the very pit of her stomach and in the farthest reaches of her brain that made up her mind knew this was real.

It scared the shit out of her.

As much as she wanted to wake up from this clairvoyance, she couldn't. It'd been happening for months now. Every time something like this strolled into her REM stage of sleep, there was no going back. It was too hard to wake up from, like this thing had a hook in her brain. A metaphorical fish on a hook that always left her with a killer headache for a few days. A reminder that these clairvoyant nightmares weren't going to let their sixteen year-old victim go.

There was a man in a lab coat, running down a dark hallway. Lights flickered and fear coursed through the scene. He was running from something, that much was obvious. Like a scene straight from a horror movie. Strange sounds were emitting from down the hall in which he ran from. There was an elevator and he ran to it, and Chris, watching from inside the elevator, had a very bad feeling about it.

Panting, the man stepped inside, waiting as the doors closed and nothing came after him. Chris felt the surge of something dark above her and looked up as the doors closed. A horrible screech came from the ceiling, lunging down at the man that thought he'd outrun the creature.

Outside a suburban neighborhood, crickets chirp in the autumn night. It's definitely past seven o'clock, as it's fairly dark outside. Everything is relatively quiet except for the nature around. Inside the house at the end of a cul-de-sac, four boys are sitting in the basement. Comic books, toys, Star Wars things, video games, and board games are sitting around.

Michael Wheeler, pale, shaggy black haired, and skinny is sitting behind a wall of poster paper. Mike glances around at his four friends, Dustin Henderson, curly-haired, baseball hat resting on it, and toothless, is sitting to his right. Lucas Sinclair, dark skinned, short-haired, is sitting on his left. Across from Mike, Will Byers sits, brown hair in a bowl cut, brown eyes wide.

"Something is coming," Mike begins in a low voice. "Something hungry for blood. A shadow grows on the wall behind you, swallowing you in darkness. It is almost here."

"What is it?" wonders Will in anticipation. He leans forward in his chair.

"What if it's the Demogorgon?" asks Dustin, sounding anxious. Will frowns slightly, leaning back in his chair. He didn't like the sound of that. Dustin groans, "Oh, Jesus, we're so screwed if it's the Demogorgon."

"It's not the Demogorgon," Lucas cuts in, sounding confident.

Mike continues, "An army of troglodytes charge into the chamber!" He slams a troglodyte figure on the board.

"Troglodytes?" echos Dustin.

"Told ya," Lucas adds, smiling.

"Wait a minute," Mike presses on, his voice lofty. "Did you hear that? That—that sound? Boom boom boom!" Mike slams his hands on the table.