not a monster (a stranger things 001 fanfic)

chapter one: Home

A/N: smut starts in chapter nine if that's what you're looking for ;) however I recommend reading the whole thing for context and foreplay

I wake up, cold, alone, confused. My confusion turns into fear as I realise I have no idea where I am.

I'm strapped to a flat, hard surface, shackles circling my ankles and wrists. My feet are bare and I'm wearing a thin gown that does nothing to warm me against the cold, sterile air. I shift my head, wincing at the stiffness of my neck, and press my cheek into my shoulder. Am I in hospital? That would explain why my body is aching all over. Although I can't see them, I'm sure from the pain that bruises are blossoming on both sides of my ribcage. I close my eyes tightly against the bright white light of the room and try to remember what just happened.

footsteps running.. my heart pounding furiously in my chest.. and blood, so much blood, my parents's blood-

My parents! Of course, they must be here too, in this hospital. I'm sure there was an accident at our house, something that injured all three of us badly that we were hospitalised.

"Mom.. Dad.." I whisper. I want to see them.

The shackles hold me tightly, I can't move. But I need to get up, get up and search for my parents. In that instant, a sinking feeling hits me.

Why would I be shackled in a hospital?

And then another pang of terror. Why are there no windows in this room?

I close my eyes once more. gunshots.. someone chasing me.. my mother's body, crumpling gracefully to the floor-

The door swings open. I look up with a gasp of terror.

A tall, middle aged man with salt-and-pepper hair walks in, dressed in a crisp suit and shiny shoes that clatter on the hard floor. He's followed by three men, all of dressed solely in white.

White walls. White ceiling. White lights. It all hurts my head.

"Good evening, Seven," says the suited man. "My name is Papa. Welcome to your new home."

I simply gawp at him at first. Then I clear my throat and say, "Are my parents here?"

"I'm afraid not." Papa said gravely.

"Where are they?" I asked.

Papa pauses. "You're going to be living here now," he continues smoothly. "Rest assured that we will take very good care of you. I only want the best for you, Seven,"

"My name is Arabella, why are you calling me Seven?" I protest.

Papa shakes his head at me. "You have a new life now," he intones. "And with it, a new name." He motions to one of the men dressed in white. "Untie her. It's time for the tour,"

Shaking, I allow myself to be released from the table and led out of the room into an equally garish, blank corridor. I follow Papa and starts to point out various rooms to me. I watch dumbly, feeling numb and confused.

"Your room," Papa gestures to a black door that has '007' on it. "You will sleep and spend your free time there."

We turn a corner.

"The Infirmary. Where you will go if you get sick."

He then leads me down a wide corridor to a set of double doors, which we enter.

"The Rainbow Room."

It's probably the only room in the whole building that isn't completely white. It's filled with toys, books, and art supplies.

"You are allowed to spend one hour a day in the rainbow room," explains Papa. "provided, of course, if you are well-behaved,"

He gives me a brief smile that does not reach his eyes.

I open my mouth to speak. "Where are-"

He cuts me off. "Save your questions for the end of the tour, please."

We leave the rainbow room and walk past a room whose door has a small window in it. Papa pauses here. "The Punishment Room."

I wait for him to elaborate, but he just keeps walking, indicting that the room's name is self-explanatory.

For the first time, a flicker of real fear flares inside me.

Finally Papa takes me to a long, black room with a bench in one corner. A young man sits on the bench, his face buried in a book. He's wearing a grey sweater, matching sweatpants and socks.

"this is the instruction room, where we will do the majority of your training," he tells me.

"What training?" I butt in.

"Save your questions for the-"

"This is the end of the tour." I say.

Across the room, I hear a faint snicker.

Papa's nostrils flare. "We're going to work on your abilities."

"What do you mean, abilities?"

"You'll find out soon enough," Papa says curtly.

I glare at him. "How long are you going to keep me here?"

Papa says nothing, but his lips curl up into a faint smile.

"How long?" I demand.

He turns on his heel and walks away, leaving me alone in the room with the boy.

"How long!" I scream after him. "Wait! Please!"

But he leaves, closing the door behind him. I slump to the ground in defeat, clenching my hands into fists. He still hadn't answered my first question: Where are my parents? Are they in a different hospital?

The young man chuckles again from behind me. I glare at the floor. What the fuck is he laughing at now?

His footsteps are so quiet that I don't hear him until he's directly behind me.

"Spoiler alert: this isn't a hospital," he whispers in my ear, making me jump. "And watch your language," I spring to my feet, terrified. He taps his forehead and smirks. "I'm listening."

I sprint away, throwing open the doors and running full speed down the corridor. Over my shoulder I see him watching, looking amused. He makes no attempt to run after me.

I make it past my new "bedroom" when I run into Papa. He sees me and smiles, advancing on me, flanked by two of his men in white. I back away slowly, scared, before I run for it in the other direction.

"ONE!" Papa bellows, as I make a break for it. I run as fast as I can, back the way I came.

I'm confused. What does he mean, One?

My question's answered when I meet a pair of piercing blue eyes. The boy from the training room blocks my path. For the first time I notice his appearance: He's tall, lean and looks slightly pissed, with sharp cheekbones, a sculpted face and blonde hair. He's pale, too - pale like he's spent his whole life without sunlight.

He reaches out with a hand, his brows furrow in concentration- and my body lifts up from the floor.

"I'm One." he utters.

I cry out shakily, kicking my legs, feeling as feeble and useless as a paper doll hanging from a string. I struggle some more, squirming as he pulls me towards him, his expression mingled with an intense curiosity.

"What's your name?" he asks quietly.

"Fuck you." I gasp angrily.

Anger flickers across his face for a brief moment before he smirks.

"I've got her!" he yells.

Papa and the men come running and grab me, one on each arm, and I feel One's powers release me.

"Thank you, One," says Papa. He turns to me. "Seven, maybe I didn't make myself clear enough. You're not allowed to leave here. You're not going anywhere,"

The grip on my arms from the men tightens. I feel a sharp pain and a needle sinks into my neck.

Everything turns to black.