stranger things imagines {slow updates}

𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝

GUNSHOTS, AND THEN RED.

liquid red, dark like molten lava, and seeping out of every hole the flying bullets made in your body. you fall to the ground, first on your knees, and then flat on your face. you feel the cold metal of the institution against your cheek and you listen as screams and shouts come from further down the hallway.

and then it begins.

you still hurt, but the holes are closing up. how? how is this possible? you were shot, you were dead - or dying, but does it really matter?

the bullets pop out of you like popcorn in a microwave. they clatter to the ground with a sound that both sickens and excites you. suddenly, you're filled with a sort of adrenaline you've never felt; no, beyond simple thrill. it's something inhumane, something other-worldly, and you lift yourself off of the floor, ignoring the pain in the bullet-holes that are slowly but surely disappearing.

the feeling isn't adrenaline. it's power. pure, unadulterated power, and you let it course through you like a waterfall, filling every crevice. you center it into your fingers, and before you know it, the bullets that miraculously came out of you are flying toward the bad men - the ones shooting at you. they are dead, and you have done it, and you feel nothing but joy.

you shoot up in a cold sweat, taking deep, labored breaths. the power tingles in your fingers and you shake them relentlessly until it goes away. your heart beats against your ribcage as you try to calm yourself down, try not to see those men dead by your hand, their blood pooling around them -

you let a tear drip down your cheek as you rock yourself back and forth. you have to tell somebody.

a year ago, when eleven showed up, everything about your life was tipped upside down. you had always healed quickly, but your parents thought nothing of it. however, when you stormed the lab with your friends, you were caught alone and you died. you. died.

but you had healed. bullets had come out the way they entered and though there were blood stains on your shirt, there were no longer bullet-holes. and you singlehandedly killed five men without laying a finger on them.

ever since then, you'd been afraid of yourself. no one had witnessed the phenomenon but eleven, who had stood in awe at the end of the hallway. she had taken credit for the deaths of the soldiers, and kept your secret between the two of you. if anyone could understand, it'd be her, so it didn't bother you that she knew.

but she was gone now. and you were alone, wallowing in the dark of your own frightening abilities. you had been born like this, you realized, and that scared you beyond belief. how were you supposed to live a normal life knowing that you weren't normal? would your children have the same powers? should you even have children?

so, here you are, slowly coming to the realization that you had to tell someone about your abilities. and, even though you feel that he may respond negatively, you know who you have to tell.

will. your best friend and secret crush, will byers. of all people, you are a bit shocked that you've kept it secret for this long - both that you love him and that you are different.

you know you won't sleep tonight knowing what you will have to do tomorrow.

•••

the next day is a saturday, and you get out of bed early - 6:00am. today is a special day for you, unbeknownst to anyone else. once the clock hits 8:00, you rush to the phone and call the byers residence.

"jonathan speaking."

taking a deep breath, you do your best to stop the nerves from coming through your voice. "hey, it's y/n. can will meet me at my house at 12?"