MY TEARS RICOCHET 𛲕 STRANGER THINGS

9. Crashing A Funeral Home

CHAPTER 9: Crashing A Funeral Home

Her eyes and words are so icy,
Oh but she burns like rum on the fire
— Cherry Wine, Hozier

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

November 10th, 1983: Davenport Home

DAPHNE AWOKE THE NEXT DAY WITH A RAGING HEADACHE. She had spent most of the previous night between the back of a police car and at the station until Callahan had dropped her home around 2 am. She had tried her best to eavesdrop on the hushed conversations carried out behind closed doors, but she hadn't picked up much.

All she knew was that Will Byers' body had been found in the quarry and was waiting to be positively identified. The cops had seemed pretty certain it was Will, and from what Daphne overheard, they were ruling it an accident. Will had simply crashed his bike, made his way to the quarry, the earth had given in and he had drowned. Daphne wasn't quite convinced. If anything, it gave more weight to her cover-up theory — Hawkins Lab had cleaned up their mess by disposing of Will's body and making it look like an accident.

Naturally, nobody was listening to her. Hopper had seemed momentarily convinced that she was on to something before Will's body was found, but now he wasn't budging. Maybe it would make his life easier if Will's death was just an accident, but it didn't make it true. And it didn't account for Barb and Fern's disappearances either — Daphne supposed they would probably try and say they ran away together. A simple fix for a simple town. But Daphne wouldn't let them get away with that.

She had been keeping track of all the strange occurrences that had happened so far on the pinboard on the back wall of her room like the detectives did on TV. The board that was once covered with disposable pictures and pressed flowers was now crammed full of 'evidence'. Everything from the MKUltra newspaper article to the slime in the woods. Daphne couldn't let this go.

She had skipped school for the second day in a row; her mind too crammed with conspiracies and cover-ups to focus on algebra and American history. Arthur still wasn't back from his business trip, so she would worry about the repercussions at another time. She couldn't stop thinking about Fern and where she might be. If she was hurt, or scared, or worse... She tried to shake the thoughts out of her mind, but they were relentless. She missed her so much.

The sound of the doorbell made Daphne jump. She put down the newspaper article she was holding and made her way downstairs, taking them two at a time. She peered through the peephole, surprised to see Nancy Wheeler on the other side.

"Wheeler?" Daphne said, opening the door. "What are you doing here?"

"Look," said Nancy, thrusting a photograph into Daphne's hands.

The photo had been ripped and messily sellotaped back together again, but Daphne could just about make out a dark figure in the very corner, where Nancy was pointing. Her eyes widened. She recognised it instantly. It was the very same thing she'd seen in the woods, twice.

"You got this from Jonathan?" asked Daphne, looking up at her for confirmation.

"Well, from the photos he took. I haven't spoken to him about it yet."

"Well, I guess you pulled through, Nancy Wheeler," said Daphne, shooting the girl a look of approval.

"Yeah," responded Nancy, giving her a small smile in return. "And I figured, if that thing was there the night Barb disappeared, then that must mean it... took her."