twenty-two ➵ repercussions

1.4K 64 17
                                    

Name: Teresa Hopper

Sex: Female
Date of Birth: October 23, 1966
Mother: Phoebe Jones
Father: James Hopper
Notable Medications: Tuinal
Notes: Mother enrolled in Project M. 1965-1966

"What the hell are we gonna do with her, Owens?"

    The doc turned, already thinking about their newfound predicament. "Is this the only copy of her file?" he asked, taking it from the assistant.

    "Yes sir."

    "I'll deal with it."

──────

Teresa never understood the fascination with cold showers. A few of the girls on her team said it helped with their muscles after a particularly rough training day, but she wholeheartedly disagreed.

    That's what ice was for.

    She continued to wholeheartedly agree with her previous statement as she was hosed down like a dog in the decontamination chamber of the lab.

    The cold water streamed down her skin, stripped naked to wash off the remainder of the tunnels. The last time she had been treated like this, she was in juvie.

    "Are we done yet?" she asked, trying not to wince as a broom went over her pale skin, the agent attempting to take off the remains of the vines and whatever else had touched her.

    "Few more minutes."

    "Minutes?" she snapped, lifting her head to look over her shoulder at the worker of the lab who was still hosing her down. At least they'd given her women. "Goddamnit, I was held hostage by a thing you set loose and I'm the one who has to suffer? Do you people have no morals?!" she yelled. "I'm a criminal and I have more goddamn morals than you!"

    "This girl testified everything she did was in self defence?"

    Teresa continued to seethe, but she at least accepted the protocol for what it was. It was a safety measure.

    "Can I at least get a cigarette when I'm out of here?" she asked, turning as she was told.

    "No."

    "My personal effects?"

    "Yes."

    "You're great conversation partners, ladies. You must be a treat to have at home."

    In answer, the woman opened the hose again, hitting Teresa's chest, pushing her back against the green tile. Wincing at the strength of the water, Teresa kept quiet, turning her head as the brush went over her bare skin. She could feel her neck itching in pain, needing to rub off the remaining feel of the vines around her neck.

    She was about to have bruises she hadn't had before. She didn't even want to think about what Will was going through.

──────

Steve Harrington, still concerned about the sudden disappearance of his best friend, but swept up by the friend of his (ex?)girlfriend's brother's best friend, was instead monster hunting.

God, was he turning into a nerd? He was spending his night with Dustin Henderson of all people, looking for a creature the adult version of which he'd already fought once.

    "How do you know it's not just a lizard?" he asked Dustin, driving to the kid's house.

    "Because his face opened up and he ate my cat."

    That seemed to be enough for Steve, who pulled up at the Henderson house, going to his trunk for the aforementioned bat. Lifting it, he glanced at Dustin, who looked satisfied, though apprehensive.

    The two boys, instead of exchanging words, approached the door to the cellar of the Henderson house.

    "I don't hear shit," Steve commented. He had so many other problems than one slimy lizard.

    "He's in there," Dustin replied.

    Steve hit the door in a crude knock, but silence was the only thing coming from the cellar. "All right, listen kid," he pointed his flashlight to Dustin's face. " I swear, if this is some sort of Halloween prank, you're dead, all right? And I'm off to ind Reese."

    "It's not," Dustin assured. "Why are you so wound up about finding Reese?"

    "All right?" Steve repeated, a little more anger in his voice.

    He was supposed to thank Teresa, get back with Nancy. Or maybe talk to Teresa first to figure out his weird mix of thoughts first. Not hunt a damn lizard with one of the kids.

    "It's not a prank. And get it out of my face!" Dustin pushed the senior's arm away.

Steve sighed, looking back at the cellar door. "You got a key for this thing?"

    When they opened up the cellar door, once again, the only thing that greeted them was silence.

    "He must be further down there. I'll stay up here in case he tries to escape," Dustin volunteered Steve for the more dangerous job. The older boy just sighed, and with a shake of his head, he lifted his bat and cautiously walked down the steps. Once he reached the bottom, he pulled on the light, spotting something glimmering on the floor. Reaching the translucent—thing, Steve used the nails on the bat to pick up the mess. As the light shone through it, he realised it was shed skin. Dripping with slime, but it was skin.

    "Steve? Steve, what's going on down there?"

    Steve's eyes lifted, finding the wall on the other side of the room. The rubble was going outward, brick and stone crashed through as if it took a lot of force. He turned, shining the light on Dustin at the top of the stairs. Having given a small fright to the kid, Steve finally spoke. "Get down here."

    Dustin's steps were just as cautious. When he arrived in the cellar, looking around, Steve lifted the shed skin so the boy could see, Dustin letting out a groan of disgust.

    "Oh shit."

    Then, as if things could not get any worse, Steve lifted the bat, and pointed at the whole in the wall.

    "Oh shit! No way," Dustin mumbled, edging towards the whole. "No way!"

    If only he didn't get so scared by the growl of his pet demodog. Maybe then Steve would have been able to brush this off as a weird kid thing. Instead, his mind wandered to Teresa and Nancy. And Jonathan. He wondered if they were safe.

    Because he knew he wasn't anymore.

Jailbird || Stranger ThingsWhere stories live. Discover now