✓ | 1. subject thirteen [STRANGER THINGS]

PART ONE ↴

PART ONE:
SEASON ONE

          Today.

          It would happen today.

          A frail and fragile THIRTEEN sat on the cold metal floor in the centre of his cell with his legs crossed beneath him and his hands in his lap, his scarred palms facing upward. His face was blank and grey to match the empty room, if one would call it that, and his sunken eyes were pockets of sorrow as they stared ahead of him and at the heavy iron door.

          THIRTEEN was an odd boy, peculiar in more ways than one. He seemed a little different to the others; more resilient, most certainly. In that past six months, he'd been punished severely for his several escape attempts, and today, November 6th, 1983, was his third day out of intense lock-down lower in the underground section of the building.

          Three days ago, there had been an accident. And today was the day he would try again.

          The others never tried to escape. To them, what THIRTEEN knew was called hope was just a little wisp of something foreign, a ghost of a concept they had never known. But hope weighed heavily on THIRTEEN's shoulders, made his heart soar, lit up his eyes whenever his mind sparked with a brilliant idea.

          Click, clack, click, clack. THIRTEEN pushed himself up and onto his feet at the sound of heels striking the floor outside, assuming it to be an approaching guard. Whoever it was, man or woman, kind or cruel, the guard was his main target and would not be leaving work alive that night. During times previous to this, THIRTEEN never killed; he refused to stoop to their level. This time, however, was different. This time he would murder — victory lies on the back of sacrifice, after all.

          Click, clack, click, clack, came the sounds of the guard moving leisurely down the corridor, no idea of what was coming. Click, clack, click, clack.

          One, THIRTEEN counted inside his head, moving toward the door. Two. Three. Now!

          Shouting out a string of the foulest curse words THIRTEEN knew, he began hitting and kicking the door aggressively in a desperate but successful attempt to grab the guard's attention. In spite of his tremendous weight and reinforced steel material, the metal door rattled and shook every time he pounded his clenched fists against its surface and spittle flew from between his teeth with every disgusting swear.

         The man on the other side of the door stared at the door in slight panic, before one wrinkled, fair-skinned hand dived down to snatch at his radio transceiver, no doubt to inform the other guards of THIRTEEN's actions. Unsure what else to do, the man slowly pulled the chain of keys from his pocket and found the one labelled 013, then entered it into the keyhole but did not turn it.