DANCIN' ► DUSTIN HENDERSON [1]

4/4

THE SICKLY BRIGHT YELLOW FLAG stood proudly out of the soiled ground, marking yet another rotten tree. White and black specks of decay engulfed the tree, a strange gooey substance eating at the bark as well.

Hopper let out a disgruntled wheeze, the tangy stench of the pumpkin field overpowering his other senses. He almost missed the strange gurgling sounds ringing in the air, but his feet planted firmly on the ground when he did. His sharp blue eyes scanned the decaying field, looking for any signs indicating that he wasn't alone.

The abnormal growls of an unknown creature continued to echo through the frigid night. Hopper's breath hitched as his gun holster popped open, his gloved fingers wrapping around the weapon. Growls echoed his ears until they swallowed his entire mind, everything in his body solely focused on the noises.

A small, unexpected gunshot rang in the air, causing a short gasp to fall from Hopper's lips. He whirled around, the bright white of his flashlight landing on a small boy. The child held up a toy gun, eyes squinting in concentration as he continued to aim at Hopper.

"You're dead," he announced after firing more shots at the chief. Hopper let out a sigh, emotions of relief and annoyance coursing through him.

"Yeah, you got me," Hopper snapped, his loud voice sounding out through the clearing. He didn't even bother to question why the small kid was out in the pumpkin patch all alone. "Happy Halloween."

As soon as the words left his mouth, it suddenly filled with dryness as he glanced at his watch. The time caused panic to creep down his spine as he drew closer to his truck. "Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," he mumbled to himself angrily.

Carelessly, he threw his hat against the passenger seat before leaping inside the vehicle. The engine roared to life, his headlights illuminating another infectious part of the field he had spent all day in. He began recklessly driving down the street before another idea wedged into his mind, a glow of orange catching his attention in his side mirror.

"Hey kid," Hopper huffed, clambering over to peek outside the passenger window. His eyes fell upon the orange bucket of candy, gesturing to it with his hand. "Give me some of that candy, would ya?"

"No way," the kid shook his head disapprovingly, his tiny fist clenching around the handle.

Hopper cursed under his breath, fumbling in his wallet before pulling out a five dollar bill. "Alright," he breathed, holding up the bill to the child. "How bout now?"

To his delight, he agreed and handed over the entire orange bucket of candy to Hopper. His brown eyes lit up at the money he held in his hands.

Faded yellow light swamped the entire cabin as Eleven curled up on the couch, a warm blanket shielding her as she clutched a teddy bear in her arms. Her eyes were glued to the tv screen, not entirely sure of what was happening but entertained by the movement of color nonetheless.

A sudden beeping, however, grasped her attention completely, causing her to throw the blanket off her crossed legs quickly. Like lightning, she dashed over to the radio, beginning to translate what each signal meant. Her fingers fell upon the morse code chart, reading out each letter Hopper sent.

"L-A-T-E," she breathed, her arm falling to her side in disappointment. A small amount of sadness wrenched in her heart as she uttered the single word quietly. "Late." The radio continued to beep, but the word alone was enough to sent Eleven into another fit of remorse. If only Mike or Jasper were here. She wouldn't feel so lonely all the time.