Apocalypse, Steve Harrington

Chapter Ten. The Thing With No Face

TEN
— the thing with no face

      FIRST PERIOD ENGLISH was, possibly, the absolute bane of Lucy's existence. She couldn't keep her eyes open, her stomach was grumbling, and, frankly, she couldn't give two fucks about Joseph Conrad and whatever Heart of Darkness was. At that point, her butt was permanently molded to that rock hard chair, and she was holding her eyelids up to avoid crashing into a deep sleep.

"Now, what was Conrad trying to portray through this line?"

Lucy hoped the annoyance on her face was portraying how awfully she wished to slam a book over Mr. O'Donnell's head. She could hear the clock moving— tick, tick, tick. Now, her eyes were glued to the little hands as they moved past the numbers; 8:15. She had only been in class for fifteen minutes?! It was official— Heart of Darkness had completely fried her brain.

    The chair behind her creaked. There was a sudden warmth against her back as Nancy leaned in closer, the ends of her brown hair brushing against Lucy's shoulders. The girl spoke, lowly, but with enough volume for her friend to here. "I saw something, Luce.  In one of Jonathan's photos," she spoke. "Like, a creature. It— it had no face."

    Her chest tightened. She was suddenly wide awake, pupils dilating as Nancy's words processed through her mind. It had no face. Spinning around in her seat, Lucy gave her friend a perplexed look. "What did you say?"

    Nancy blinked. She pulled her lips into a thin line and shook her head. "I saw a creature, in the back of one of Jonathan's pho—"

"No, no," Lucy whispered. "Before, you said it had no face."

Nodding, the brunette darted her eyes down. "Yeah, it— it was faceless, Lucy."

Taking a moment to recollect, Lucy knitted her brows together in thought. She leaned in impossibly close, so only Nancy would hear. "Joyce Byers, when I went to her house last night, she said the same exact thing," the girl stressed. "She said she saw a man with no face, but— but it didn't look like a mask." Lucy's voice was so low, it was almost unintelligible.

    Nancy started blankly at the books that sat on her desk. Shaking her head, she spoke. "So, you're saying there's this man—this thing— with no face, that's lurking around in Hawkins?"

    Hazel eyes moving in and out of focus, Lucy began to nod. "I mean," the girl trailed off. "That's what it sounds like."

    The door to their left opened. All heads shooting in that direction, the class of teenagers watched in awe as the vice principal stepped into the room. Lucy's face fell— she was never particularly fond of Mrs. Isaac. When the woman's eyes met hers, it was all the answer Lucy needed.

   "Lucille Hopper and Nancy Wheeler?" she spoke. "If you two could come with me, please?"

    Shit. Shit, shit, shit, was all that ran through Lucy's head as she followed Mrs. Isaac swift down the halls of Hawkins High. Fiddling with a strap on her Jansport, the girl only focused on the squeaking of her sneakers against the shiny floors. She felt doomed, walking behind the vice principle towards inevitable trouble. Shit.