MY TEARS RICOCHET 𛲕 STRANGER THINGS

25. Dustin's Demon Pet

CHAPTER 25: Dustin's Demon Pet

And the shadows filling up this land
Are the ones I built with my own hand
— Prayer In Open D, Phoebe Bridgers

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

November 3rd, 1984: Davenport Home / Henderson Home

DAPHNE STARED UNBLINKINGLY AT THE PHONE ON HER WALL. It hadn't stopped ringing for the last ten minutes. She knew that soon enough, Billy would show up looking for her — and he wouldn't be happy. She tried to will herself to pick up the phone; to pacify him for a little while longer, but every time she got up, her knees shook.

The entire house was eerily silent, so when Daphne heard even the faintest of noises, her haunches were raised. She strained her ears, hearing muffled voices coming from just outside her front door. She shot an anxious look at the door, wondering how Billy could've possibly gotten here so fast. She gritted her teeth and darted into the living room, ducking behind the wall adjacent to the window to remain out of sight.

But when she peered out of the window, she didn't see Billy on the other side. She saw Steve. Steve. She couldn't quite believe he was here, after everything she had said to him and all the pain she had put him through.

Her ex-boyfriend had a bouquet of irises in his hand and a small, curly-haired kid tugging at his jacket. Daphne recognised the kid — he had been there last year when the girl with the superpowers had tried to find Fern. She wracked her brain for his name. Dustin.

Daphne strained her ears further to hear what they were saying. "Do you still have that bat? The one with the nails?" Dustin was demanding, his voice impatient.

"Why?" Steve was saying back, an equal amount of frustration lacing his voice.

"I'll explain it on the way."

Daphne plucked up all of her courage and hurried to the front door, pulling it open and standing in the doorframe. Both Steve's and Dustin's heads snapped towards her, standing in her doorway, barefoot in an old pink sweater.

"I thought you said she wasn't home?" said Steve, turning to Dustin with an accusatory tone.

"Okay fine, I just said that to get you to hurry up," admitted Dustin. "But this is an emergency, guys. We have to go. Now."

"Now?" asked Daphne, already stuffing her feet into her favourite pair of Vans.

"Now!"

She grabbed a jacket from the nearest coat hook and her bag, jumping out the front door only to circle back to her bedroom. She ignored Dustin's frustrated yells for her to hurry up as she quickly grabbed her machete and a torch from the cabinet. The last time she had seen the boy, things hadn't exactly ended well. She wasn't about to leave her house defenceless.

She hurtled out the front door, locking it quickly behind her and making her way to Steve's car. She had barely jumped into the back seat before Steve hit the gas, flooring it out of her estate. She face-planted the seat in front of her, cursing under her breath as she struggled to put her seatbelt on.

"Okay, can someone please tell me what's going on now?"

Dustin turned around in the passenger seat to face her, his chubby face strangely serious. "Okay. So... A few days ago, I found this thing in my trash. I thought it was a pollywog at first—"

"Sorry," interrupted Steve. "You thought it was a what?"

"A pollywog," replied Dustin in an exasperated tone. "It's another word for a tadpole."