Eleven Pov
The void stretched endlessly, a black sea of silence. My bare feet pressed against water that wasn't really water—it rippled like liquid, yet stayed solid enough to hold me. Every sound was swallowed, every movement echoed back at me.
I walked forward, and then… I saw it.
From far away, lines began to take shape in the dark. Straight, rigid, rising higher the closer I came. A cluster of shelves—maybe twenty in total—stood crooked in the void, like the last remains of a library stranded in black water.
Each shelf sagged beneath the weight of ruined books. Spines were cracked and peeling, pages warped and swollen as if they'd been soaked through and left to rot. They weren't neat—many leaned at odd angles, some collapsed entirely, others stacked in unstable piles that looked ready to topple.
It didn't feel endless. It felt abandoned. A forgotten corner of the school library, carved out and dropped here, floating in silence. The air pressed heavy with mildew and damp paper, and the shadows pooled thick between the narrow aisles, as if the darkness itself was waiting.
My heart pounded as I whispered aloud, "It's… a library.
In the gymnasium, my words carried through the static of the radio.
Everyone stirred.
"A library?" Dustin asked.
Nancy's voice cut in, urgent. "Is it the school library?"
I tilted my head, eyes sweeping the rows. The carpet was torn, soggy in places, and faint school posters clung to the walls. "Yes. I… I think so."
I moved carefully between the shelves, the silence pressing down on me. The air smelled of mildew, though I knew that wasn't possible. Shadows pooled in the corners. Every step echoed like it didn't belong.
And then—at the end of one aisle—I saw movement.
A figure.
Half-hidden behind the shelves, just enough of a face visible to make my breath catch.
I crept closer. Step by step. The shadows receded, revealing tangled hair, pale skin, and eyes half-closed.
"Barb," I whispered.
Static cracked through the gym speakers.
"Barbara?" Nancy's voice rose with panic. "Is she—Is she okay? How is she?"
I stumbled closer. Barb was slumped against the corner, cocooned in thick, pulsating roots. They wrapped her torso, her arms, her legs, each strand tightening and loosening like the slow breath of some great beast. Her clothes were torn, her skin blotched with bruises and sickly purple veins where the roots dug into her flesh.
Her chest rose and fell shallowly, lips blue, eyes glassy but not gone. Alive. Barely.
My chest tightened.
"Barb!" I reached forward, hands shaking as I tried to pry one of the roots loose. It was slick and cold, almost alive, and when I pulled, it tightened, digging deeper into her skin. Barb's body jerked with a pained gasp, her head lolling to the side.
In the gym, Nancy's voice cracked, almost hysterical. "No! Stop—stop hurting her!"
"I—I can't," I stammered, tears welling. "It won't let go…"
Barb's eyes fluttered, rolling toward me, unfocused. Her lips trembled. "N-Nance…" The word came out broken, barely audible, but enough to send Nancy into sobs back in the gym.
And then one of the thicker roots shifted—sliding up and coiling around Barb's throat. Her weak breaths hitched into choking gasps, her body shuddering as the thing squeezed tighter.
"No! Please—don't!" I cried, clawing at the roots, my nails scraping uselessly. "She's dying, she's dying!"
In the gymnasium, lights flickered violently, buzzing overhead like they might explode.
"El?" Nancy's voice was desperate. "Is she alright? Tell me!"
"She's dying!" I cried, stumbling forward in the void, my hands shaking. "Hurry! Hurry!"
The gym lights sputtered once more, then cut out entirely. Darkness swallowed everything.
"El!" Mike shouted.
I felt another hand grab mine—warm, grounding. A voice. "It's okay, we're all here. Don't worry."
Dray.
Joyce's hand pressed over mine too, steady, calming. "We've got you, sweetheart. Stay with us."
My panic softened, the roots and shelves dissolving into mist, Barbara's form fading before my eyes.
And then I was somewhere else.
A small wooden structure stood before me, crooked but familiar. Branches leaned against it, scraps of old blankets draped across the walls. Carved crudely into the front was a name, jagged but clear:
Castle Byers.
"It says… Castle Byers," I whispered.
In the gymnasium, Joyce's breath hitched audibly. "Is… is Will there?" she asked, her voice trembling.
I pushed inside. The smell hit me first—damp earth, mold, something cold that clung to the air.
And there, huddled on the floor, was Will.
His small body curled beneath ragged blankets, his skin pale, lips cracked. Each exhale came out in misty puffs, ragged and broken. "It's cold…" he murmured. "I'm so cold…"
I sank to my knees beside him. My hand hovered, then gently touched his.
"Will…" I whispered. My voice was soft but steady.
Static burst through the gym speakers. Everyone heard.
Joyce pressed forward, clutching the radio. "Tell him, El. Tell him… Mom's coming!"
I squeezed his icy hand. "Will… your mom. She's coming for you."
His eyes fluttered open, unfocused. He looked at me as if I were far, far away. His lips trembled. "Hurry…"
The word crackled through the radio.
In the gymnasium, Joyce's sob broke.
"Tell him we're coming," she begged. "Tell him to stay where he is!"
Tears pricked my eyes. "Will," I whispered again, "just… just hold on. A little longer. Please."
But his head lolled, his eyes half-shutting. His breath slowed.
"No—no, stay with me." I shook his hand desperately. "Will! Will!"
The world began to tear away. Shadows swallowed the fort, the blankets, Will's fading face.
"Will!" I screamed as everything collapsed into nothing.
The void dissolved.
I shot upright in the pool, gasping, tearing the goggles off my face. My chest heaved like I'd been drowning.
Joyce was already there, arms wrapping tight around me. Dray's hand pressed firmly to my shoulder. Both of them spoke over and over, soft and certain:
"We got you. It's okay. You did great. You're safe."
Slowly, my breathing steadied, though the ache in my chest lingered.