Dray's POV – Upside Down
The school rose in the distance—or what was left of it. Twisted, rotting, its windows webbed with vines that pulsed faintly as though alive. The walls sagged inward, like the carcass of something abandoned long ago. My pace slowed. Every instinct screamed at me that something was wrong.
That's when I heard it.
A guttural sound, low at first, then sharper, cracking against the night air. My stomach dropped.
I crept closer, keeping to the shadows of a wall, and there it was—standing at the entrance of Hawkins Middle. The Demogorgon. Its elongated head twitched side to side, the maw unfurling just enough to reveal rows of teeth glistening in the dim, sickly light. It sniffed the air, hunting. Searching.
I ducked low and slid behind an industrial-sized garbage bin, its rusted sides slick with grime. Pressed against the vine-crusted brick wall, I forced myself to stay still, to make my body smaller than the shadows themselves. Each breath rattled through me, sharp and uneven, my ribs protesting with every rise and fall.
I could still feel the pull of what I'd done earlier—twisting minds, bending perception. My injuries hadn't healed, and I'd only just pushed my ability thirty minutes ago. One more reckless use and it could finish me.
And yet here it stood. Blocking the way.
"Damn it," I muttered under my breath.
Did Nancy or Jonathan even see my signal? If they didn't… then I was the only one left to face this thing.
I clenched my jaw and shook the doubts away. I couldn't afford distractions. The Demogorgon wasn't moving, and every second I lingered, Barbara slipped closer to dying in that place.
"Five minutes," I whispered to myself. "Wait five minutes. If they don't draw it away, I'll move. One way or another."
I knew these creatures too well—their hunger, their senses, their patience. Distracting one wasn't impossible, but it was never easy.
My luck had never been kind. I grumbled and exhaled through my teeth, crouching lower.
The minutes dragged like hours. The monster prowled at the doorway, claws scraping against brick, sniffing, waiting.
At last, I tightened my fists. My vision swam as I readied myself to draw on the ability again, even if it tore me apart.
And then—
The Demogorgon froze. Its head snapped up, nostrils flaring. A guttural roar tore from its chest, rattling the broken windows. My ears rang as it pivoted and bolted, claws gouging deep into the pavement of this twisted reflection.
I blinked, chest heaving.
"What the hell…"
But in the faint shimmer between worlds, I felt it—the disturbance. Something was happening in Hawkins.
Thirty Minutes Earlier – Hawkins Middle School
Engines roared as a convoy of military vehicles skidded to a stop outside the school gymnasium. Tires ground against gravel. Doors slammed. Dozens of soldiers poured out, boots pounding the pavement in unison.
From the lead jeep, Dr. Martin Brenner stepped down, his white hair catching the harsh glow of the floodlights. His expression was sharp, clinical. At his side was Agent Connie Frazier, her eyes scanning every corner as though the girl might leap from the shadows.
Brenner's voice was clipped, commanding."Search the entire school. Every hallway, every classroom, every corner. Find the girl."
The soldiers fanned out in disciplined formation, rifles raised, flashlights cutting through the dark. They stormed the science wing, the AV room, classrooms, the cafeteria, the library. Metal lockers rattled as they were yanked open. Footsteps thundered up staircases and echoed through hallways.
Ten minutes passed.
Then a soldier jogged back, face pale, words urgent."Sir. You need to see this."
They entered the gymnasium.
A small, shallow kiddie pool sat in the center of the floor. Water still glistened across the plastic lining. Sealed goggles and damp towels lay discarded nearby. The air smelled faintly of salt.
Brenner knelt, brushing his fingertips against the water's surface. It was cold. Too recent to be forgotten.
His lips pressed thin. Rage simmered just beneath his calm exterior.
Five minutes later, Frazier reappeared, her voice sharp but measured."Sir, we searched every inch of the building. Classrooms, locker rooms, offices, even the parking lot. Nothing. No trace of them."
Brenner's jaw flexed, eyes still locked on the pool.
"Sir," Frazier pressed. "Is it possible Hopper gave us false information? That he—"
"No." Brenner cut her off, voice low and dangerous. "He gave us exactly what we needed. The girl was here. The girl used her power—this was a sensory deprivation tank. She was searching for the missing children."
The fury that had been simmering finally cracked. Brenner grabbed a folding chair and hurled it across the gym. The metal clattered violently against the bleachers. He kicked the table, sending equipment scattering, his composure shattering as he spat curses under his breath.
"Damn it! They were right here!"
"Maybe Hopper told us the truth," Frazier said coolly, arms folded. "But if you're betting everything on a washed-up drunk's word, then we're already playing their game."
Brenner turned sharply, eyes narrowing on her."No, Frazier. Something else is wrong. Something I can't quite see yet."
For a moment, his gaze drifted, lost in memory.
Flashback – Interrogation Room
The room smelled faintly of smoke and disinfectant. Hopper sat slouched in the chair, cuffs loose around his wrists. His eyes were heavy, his expression unreadable.
Brenner entered silently, carrying a slim pack of cigarettes. He slid one across the table.
Hopper accepted it without hesitation, striking a match. The flame lit his face briefly before the smoke veiled him again. He inhaled deeply, then exhaled a long, steady stream.
Brenner's voice was calm, deliberate."Where is the girl?"
Hopper stared at him through the haze of smoke, his tone flat but unyielding."You give me your word. Nobody finds out about this. The kids, their families—they stay out of it. You leave them alone."
His voice hardened. "Then I'll tell you where your little science experiment is."
Brenner leaned closer, unblinking. "Very well. You have my word. But if you cross me, Sheriff—" His voice dropped, steel beneath silk. "The consequences will be beyond imagination."
Hopper inhaled, exhaled. Silent. Defiant.