❝ in the seventeen years i've been on this earth, i've never met anyone as f#@!%^g stupid as you. ❞
in which two kids on the opposite sides of the social spectrum find solace in one another during a strange period of time.
ESTELLA COLLINS STAND ALON...
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CHAPTER FORTY-ONE; THE RUSSIAN also known as; ( the flayed; part one)
★☆
"LOOKS LIKE SOMEBODY'S HOME," HOPPER MUTTERED, FLICKING HIS CIGARETTE OUT THE DRIVER'S WINDOW. Stella turned her head to look outside, seeing the farmland mould into a homely estate. She squinted a little and leaned forward between the two adults, seeing a white weatherboard house with planks of wood covering the windows. Immediately, she grimaced.
"Uh, nice place," she attempted to remain positive, but the only response she received was a scoff from the Chief. She frowned as the truck came to a stop, reaching below the seats for the large flashlights Joyce had stashed the night before. She handed two over to the adults, before awkwardly clambering over the seats and exiting the vehicle after them. She groaned softly and stretched out her back, a number of loud cracks echoing throughout the area, earning a 'shh' from Hopper. "Sorry."
"Are you sure you don't want to stay in the car?" Joyce inquired in a hushed tone as they followed Hopper into the house. Stella felt the hairs on the back of her neck sticking up as the evening breezed brushed against her. She shivered as she held up her flashlight, swallowing deeply.
"You guys got all the fun last time," she forced a grin onto her face despite her being on the verge of shitting herself. Joyce quirked an eyebrow, and Stella nodded a couple of times in assurance. "It's fine, Joyce. What could happen?"
"Did you seriously just ask that?" Hopper muttered under his breath as he reached for the doorknob. He slowly opened the door and crept in, followed by the two women. He held his gun at the ready, his eyes flickering back and forth to keep watch for any movement. Stella was behind him with Joyce behind her, both of them looking in opposite directions for the same reason.
By the time they reached the centre of the first room, Stella's head twitched as she felt a low pulsing sound in her eardrums. Her eyebrows knitted together as she tried to figure out what it was. "Do you hear that?"
Hopper nodded once, continuing his path through the house. Within minutes they reached what appeared to be the master bedroom, where a naked mattress sat in the centre. Hopper huffed, noticing that the strange frequency had gotten significantly stronger, though there was nothing in sight. "Where's that coming from?"
Stella glanced down at the floor, feeling a gentle tremble emitting from the hardwood. She looked back at Joyce, who seemed to have the same idea as her. The teen fell to her knees and didn't hesitate in placing her ear to the ground, while Joyce found herself looking at the bed frame, where a bright orange light was pulsating. "It's below us."
"Collins, help me out with the bed," Hopper quickly sprung into action and Stella jumped up in response. They both scrambled to the end of the piece of furniture, lifting it off the ground. It practically flung back, like the beds Stella saw in her college dorm brochure (the mere concept of being hurled back into the wall at night terrified her, to say the least), to reveal a set of concrete stairs that led to a secret room.
