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CHAPTER THIRTEEN XIII. edge of seventeen [ season 2, episode 8 ]
There was a Demodog at the end of the hallway, sniffing at the air eagerly in an attempt to locate the traces of fresh meat.
Steph and Lucia pressed their backs against the wall in unison. They both held their breaths in anticipation, opting for the more silent approach rather than bursting into the hallway all guns a'blazing in hopes the Demodogs would not locate them. But it was more than unlikely; the door was wide open.
And the creature was growing nearer.
Steph tightened her grip around Steve's baseball bat. She had a plan. A dangerous plan, but if it was carried out and negotiated efficiently, it was a damn good alternative to being eaten alive.
She just had to close that door. Somehow. That, or face the Demodogs.
In a way it seemed crazy, being in her current position. Last week, she was helping Nancy Wheeler put together an outfit for dinner with Barbara Holland's parents. Just acting like normal teenagers, skirting the edge of seventeen, avoiding supernatural surges billowing across Hawkins like a blanket of thick fog. And now, she was in the presence of interdimensional monsters that wanted nothing more than to peel the flesh from her bones. The two scenarios were so stark in difference that she felt thoroughly sick to her stomach.
Today had the potential to be the end of her days. The end of Lucia's short lived days.
That was why she needed to make a move. Fast.
She took one step toward the door ── tiptoeing to decrease the amount of noise her footsteps made. Realising what the adolescent was going to do, Lucia pressed a hand over her mouth to smother the possibilities of screaming, shaking her head in noncompliance when her eyes connected with Steph's. She gestured for her to return to their initial hiding spot, but it was a futile attempt. Without closing the door, they were fully exposed. Steph was determined.
She took another step toward the doorway. From that position, she was able to peer around the corner.
Shit.
The Demodog was five feet away, if that.
A string of saliva was dangling from it's folded mouth. It followed an invisible trail that coiled throughout the humid air, the scent of human flesh growing unbearably strong. Throat constricted with fear, Steph shrank back into the darkness of the file room. She pressed a trembling finger to her lips, a silent demand for Lucia to remain as quiet as possible.
Carefully, she raised the bat. Pointed it.
She almost cried out with relief when the jagged nails slotted into the small gap between the door handle and the door. Leverage. She gently tugged the baseball bat back toward herself, using the nails to slowly pull the door back into it's original position. Closed. The silhouette of the Demodog was nearing, and she had little time to fulfil the life saving mission.
