✧･ﾟ:*･✧
azalea monroe just
wanted a normal,
relaxing summer.
robin buckley just
wanted to save money
at her $3 an hour job.
and they were both
about to get more than
they bargained for.
✧･ﾟ:*･✧
STRANGER THINGS
season 3 - completed
season 4 - ongoing...
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✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*･✧
Azalea slung her arm tiredly around Dustin's shoulders as the monster-fighting group caught everyone else up to speed.
"The Mind Flayer," Mike explained, "He wants to stop El and pave a way into our world. He uses the possessed people to create a giant monster."
"How big?" Hopper asked.
"We only saw one part of it and it was at least thirty feet," Nancy told him, arms crossed in front of her.
"Yeah. It sorta destroyed your cabin." Lucas added, turning to Hopper with a frown, "Sorry."
"So let me get this straight," Steve piped up, "The Mind Flayer has made some kind of weapon. But instead of using metal or steel or whatever, he melts people together?"
"Yes, exactly," Nancy nodded.
Steve sucked on his bottom lip, an incredulous look on his face, "I—uh, yeah. Just making sure,"
"Are we sure it's still alive?" Joyce asked from beside Hopper.
"Yeah," Max remarked, "El beat the shit out of it, but it's still alive."
"But if we close the gate," Will informed everyone, "Then it should cut off the connection between the brain and the body—"
"And kill it," Lucas adds, "Theoretically."
"Yoo-hoo!" A random man Azalea didn't know came running toward them wildly with papers. Hopper and Joyce made room for him as he threw the papers down on the food court table in front of them.
Everyone gathered around as he pointed, "This is what Alexi called 'the hub.' Now, the hub takes us to the vault room,"
Azalea nodded along. She recognized the hub. They were just there. Erica weasled her way through the crowd and stood beside Azalea glancing over the map.
"Okay, where's the gate?" Hopper asked.
"Right here," the man says pointing on the map, "I'm not sure the scale of this but I think it's fairly close to the vault room, maybe 50 feet or so."
"More like 500," Erica shot at him, glaring at his poorly drawn map, "What? You're just going to waltz in there like it's commie Disneyland or something?"
The man eyed up Erica with distain and confusion, "I'm sorry, who are you?"
"Erica Sinclair. Who are you?"
"Murray Bauman,"
"Listen, Mr. Bunman," Erica sassed back, "I'm not trying to tell you how to do things, but I've been down in that shithole for 24 hours. And with all due respect, you do what this man tells you, you're all gonna die."
