𝐖𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐍. ˢᵗᵉᵛᵉ ʰᵃʳʳⁱⁿᵍᵗᵒⁿ ¹

021

021. 𝗺𝗶𝘅𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘂𝗽 𝗮𝗳𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗮𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗱,
𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿.

  𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒. The atmosphere was silent, with the distant growling of the creatures quickly running away and the sound of their feet along the frail leaves of the junkyard. The bus was taken by one last, mighty shake, that left the five of them gripping for anything to keep steady while their minds raced with fear, confusion, horror, and now— the overcoming sensation of relief. All that could be heard was the sounds of the demogorgons scurrying away, the mechanics of the bus clinking and metal scraping, and their heavy, heavy unstable breathing.

Lori's mind was a fucking cacophony. Her chest was still rising and falling at an unhealthy rate, and her hands were still shaking but kept the lighter in grip. Her heart was aching and her head was pounding tremendously now, even more than before. Now that there wasn't any banging, any screaming, any hollering, or any growling— she was left with the sound of her pounding head and the beat of her heart that she could hear in her ears. Her breaths were quick and uneasy, and she felt like throwing up, but her tongue and throat were so unbelievably dry that she found it difficult to swallow the liquid in her mouth. Her throat scratched when she swallowed— scraped from all the yelling and the screaming.

She noticed now, now in this standstill moment where everything was cruelly silent, now that she had the chance— she noticed that there was something dripping down her head, a small, thin dripping. Slowly, with her vision slightly fogged, she rose her shaky arm and touched the side of her forehead where she'd scratched it on the metal— when she'd fallen in the driver's seat. The tip of her finger landed in a small patch of liquid on her forehead, and when she looked at it, even in the dark she could identify its dark red color.

"What—" Lori swallowed, her voice coming out low and coarse, "the— hell— was— that." each of her words were cut short by a sharp breath. She shut her eyes.

But as soon as she shut her eyes, the image of the monster slid back into view, its bloody teeth right in her face. She saw the flaps of its mouth, closed at first for a few moments, but then opened wide to blow a gust of wind right at her. The rows of teeth— the endless, endless, bloody and spiky teeth that scraped on for miles down the length of it. The blood, the gore, dripping down from the fangs, and the leaking drool from its obscured jaw. And the claws, gripped on the edges of the emergency exit and covered in blood— inching closer and closer to her face, ready to reach in and tear her apart. The scales of its hunched body that ran on down its sticky limbs.

She shot her eyes open at the image of it in her mind, as a chill slithered down her entire spine and sent her fingers cold.

Everyone sort of collectively swallowed the air in their throats and took a few moments to register what the fuck just happened. Even though there was no amount of silence in the world that could allow them to register it fully.

Steve gripped the bat with a tighter hand, and chewed on the inside of his lip— still prudent. His eyes were still pinned on the emergency exit for a few long moments, as if it were going to come back. Lucas and Max unraveled their hands from each other's. Dustin breathed out unsteadily, his mouth agape.

Dustin adverted his attention to Lori. But she didn't look up, just kept her gaze pinned in front of her in complete shock. Even though she wasn't looking, he gave her the tiniest, barely noticeable smile that said 'thanks' for saving his ass. But his eyes were still grave, still confused.