Risky Business ｡ Stranger Things

20 : Child's Play

Grief and horror had reached the marrow of her bones and the chambers of her heart. Prue felt absent and displaced, but above all, she felt lost in a dark labyrinth in her mind and her immediate memory was taking the full brunt of it all. She didn't remember driving her car over to the Byers' rundown house on the outskirts of town. But she did remember Hopper insisting that she and her brother stay with the group for safety, and she didn't protest the Chief, even though she desperately wanted to go home. The house was cluttered, with overthrown furniture and debris, like the house had been ransacked by people searching for something. The house was aglow with dull yet warm lamps and the walls and the floor were covered with childish drawings. The blue crayon made a pattern, an interjoined pattern like roots or veins, but Prue didn't have the energy to ask about it, her curiosity wasted. Grey wandered around though, his eyes soaking in the strangeness of the drawings stuck to nearly every inch of the small house that was crowded with children, teenagers and adults; the air warm and mingling with the numbered breathes and bodies. Will was unconscious on the couch, a troubled Jonathan sitting and talking to him in a low voice with Nancy standing over him, squeezing his shoulder. Steve wasn't oblivious to the sight before him or the new closeness between Nancy and Johnathan. Chief Hopper was on the phone, calling for help or back up, sharing what had happened at the lab. He was almost shouting through the receiver, but the people on the other end of the line weren't likely to believe his words. Prue felt out of place in the house and among these strangers, and if she could muster more tears, they surely would be blurring her vision, mixing with the monster blood still staining her skin. She was standing by the kitchen counter, her eyes constantly moving back to her brother still engrossed with the drawings.

"You have black shit..." Steve Harrington was suddenly by her side, waving his hand in front of Prue's face and torso. "Everywhere."

"Yeah, I'm aware of that," she replied, knowing she must have looked a fright. Her horror literally marked her skin.

"It really stinks," he noted, leaning beside her on the kitchen counter. He smelt of sweat and nature, like he had hiked through the woods or something. His thick brown hair was still flamboyant and his eyes were kind yet tired. Apparently, he had had one hell of a day a too.

"Yeah, I'm aware of that too, Steve." Her voice was flat with slight annoyance.

"There's a bathroom on your left," Steve stated, lamely pointing one finger towards a closed door. And his words suggested that he had been in this house before and Prue pondered what strange event would push pretty boy Steve Harrington into the Byers's house. Prue knew Selena Moreno would have a field day with that knowledge.

Prue nodded grimly, "Thanks." Steve offered her a kind smile in return, noticing the wear-and-tear this night was having on Prue Owens. The brunette teenager checked the house for Grey—he was talking to Mike Wheeler, probably asking about the drawings—and when she was satisfied he that was safe, she wandered to the bathroom, locking the door behind her. The bathroom was tiny and she turned towards the faded and dirty mirror. Prue took a few stray and quiet minutes to reflect on the terrible night that was far from over as she stared at her appearance. Her face was ghostly pale and the black monster blood that was sprayed across her face was grossly stark. More droplets and splatters of blood marked the exposed skin on her chest and shirt. She gingerly touched the holes in her shirt, lifting it to see the claw wounds littering her soft flesh. The wounds were bloody and sore, but they weren't too deep, more like scratches—she had been lucky—and she balled up some toilet paper and washed the wounds out, grimacing and grinding her teeth together as she dapped at the claw marks. Prue stayed in the tiny bathroom for another few long minutes, listening to her uneven breathing and pulsing heart. When she finally wandered back out she found everyone grouped around the table in the kitchen. She hung back, picking up words like the 'Mind Flayer' and 'demodogs', but she wasn't exactly trying to keep up with the group's new plan. Prue had more pressing matters on her mind, like her father stuck in a lab filled with monsters or what she was going to say to her mother when she returned home.