GIVE EM' HELL - eddie munson [DISCONTINUED]

CHAPTER ELEVEN - FAIRY DUST

"Steve, do you copy? Nancy, Robin? This is Dustin. Where are you? We've been collared by the law, I repeat, we've been collared by the law. Do you copy?"

The door creaks eerily as the five enter the house one after the other. After turning into the living room, Steve's flashlight drifts over the furniture, covered in vines. "Might be time to get a maid, Wheeler," Robin says, trying to ease the tension.

Nancy looks around blankly. "Come on, I don't want to stay here longer than we have to." The clump of people starts descending the stairs, Steve stopping when he hears a familiar voice.

Meanwhile, in Nancy's bedroom, her closet is opened roughly. It's filled with tight, colourful, and itchy clothing. Astoria notes to herself that if she has a wardrobe malfunction not to call Nancy.

She grabs a box on top of the shelves as Robin looks around curiously. Slamming the box on the desk, she unwraps the almost transparent yellow paper revealing... a pair of shoes? 

"Those aren't guns," Eddie states the obvious. "These heels are a bit pointy, but I was hoping for a deadly projectile."

"I.. I don't understand," Nancy says. Astoria looks on her bedside table, rummaging through the drawers.

Eddie says, "Maybe you left them somewhere else," but Nancy continues searching, replying, "There's a six year old in the house, I know where I keep my guns. And also, I threw these away years ago." 

While the three talk and Nancy picks up old things, pointing out how she gave them away and doesn't own them anymore, Astoria picks up Nancy's diary diary. She skips to the last entry, reading it aloud:

"November 6, 1983,

OK! So, Steve and I... made out today--" Nancy grabs it off her before she can read anymore, while Eddie snorts and chuckles. 

Skimming through the next pages, Nancy sees that they're all blank, a heavy weight of realisation sets in. "What is it?"

"I think the reason my guns aren't here, is because they don't exist yet." Astoria groans, massaging her forehead. "They don't... exist?" 

"This diary should be full of entries. It's not. The last entry is November 6th, 1983. The day that will went missing, the day the gate opened."

Astoria furrows her brows, "What?" 

"We're in the past." They all share glances with each other. They are brainstorming when Steve interrupts: "Dustin! Dustin!?"

They all sprint downstairs, worried that something bad had happened. When they get down, Steve's waving his hands around like a mad-man and is shouting for Dustin. "Maybe he really does have rabies."

"Steve, what are you doing?" Nancy asks. He turns around, blaring the torch in their eyes. They all wince and hold up their hands up as a shade. "He's here, Henderson. That little shit, he's here. He's like... in the walls or something, just listen."