𝒙𝒍𝒗𝒊𝒊𝒊. what is mordor?

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HAWKINS, INDIANA — 1986

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HAWKINS, INDIANA — 1986.





     WHEN THE CREW REACHED HAWKINS again, they could immediately see something was wrong.

"Oh shit," Nancy said from the driver seat, everyone else straining to see what was going on.

Theresa pushed Steve and Dustin out of the way in the very back, the two of them grumbling while she tried to see.

There were police cars and a crowd around the lake house when Nancy pulled up, the group not hesitating to jump out of the car as soon as she stopped. This was not good.

"It's not Eddie, is it?" Robin questioned, Tess frowning.

"I don't think so." She clenched her jaw, looking around before hurrying over to a news van and ducking around the side while the others followed. She was trying to get as close as she could to the police speaking to the news reporters without being seen.

"...the Roane County line received a call a little after midnight... reporting a homicide here on the lake," Officer Powell spoke, Tess uneasily fidgeting with her fingers as she looked to the others.

She had been right; Vecna made another kill.

"Officer Callahan here and myself arrived first on the scene," Powell continued. "We made our way to the shore of Lover's Lake, about ten yards from that house you see behind me. It was there that we found the victim, an eighteen year-old senior from Hawkins High, Patrick McKinney."

Theresa glanced over at Lucas as his face immediately dropped. She briefly recalled Patrick's face, him having been the one that asked Lucas if she was single the night after the basketball game.

"...His limbs, his body, uh– it was disfigured," Powell droned on, Tess looking down at the ground.

Then, he said, "We have also identified a person of interest." Powell held up a photo, Theresa squinting as she tried to see it.

"Eddie Munson. We encourage anyone with information to please come forward."

Tess pulled her lips in, letting out a deep exhale. "Fuck," she muttered.

Just as Officer Powell finished speaking, there was a crackle from Dustin's walkie-talkie.

"Dustin, can you hear me? Sinclair?"

Dustin scrambled to get his walkie, turning away from the scene and responding, "Eddie, holy shit! Are you okay?"

There was a pause. "Nah, man. Pretty– pretty goddamn far from okay," Eddie scoffed.

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