— CHAPTER 19 —
THE MONSTER SLAYERS

( trigger warning: violence, some descriptions of blood )

SATURDAY 12th NOVEMBER,
1983

TONIGHT they prepare for battle. After swerving into the drive at the Byers' house and beginning to unload their supplies inside, Daphne finds herself continually glancing up at the strings of lights. Unlit now, but with a bit of luck — if you can call it that — they would be flashing in all the sharp primary colours to warn them the monster was coming.

A bear trap has been laid in the hallway, the carpet underneath soaked with gasoline that stinks so putridly it catches at the back of Daphne's throat. Jonathan has hammered nails into a baseball bat, making it much more lethal than before. Their plan is intricate, but if everything goes to plan, it might just work.

     After retrieving a kitchen knife for each of them, they stand in a small circle in the middle of the upturned living room. Daphne turns the blade gingerly in her hand, watching her reflection distort. Then she stares at her empty palm — the one which will soon bear a cut. All three of them will have one. Their blood is the bait. Still, no matter how many times they go over the plan, she still finds herself hesitant as the blade hovers over her palm.

     "You guys okay?" Jonathan asks shakily.

     "Yeah..." Nancy replies, breathing heavily, while Daphne returns with a queasy nod.

     "Remember..." he says.

     "Straight into Will's room," Nancy trembles.

     "And don't step on the trap," Daphne adds.

     "Wait for the yo-yo to move."

     "Then..." Jonathan brings out his lighter and flicks it on, a whisper of a flame being sparked. When — or if — they lure monster into the trap, the lighter will ignite the puddle of gasoline beneath, and hopefully they can burn the damned thing down to a pile of singed ashes.

"The lights will flash when it's near," Daphne stammers. "Often the faster they flash, the closer it is. I've seen them."

     Jonathan and Nancy nod anxiously. Daphne swallows thickly, and notices her hands are trembling. She inhales deeply through her nose and out through her mouth, hoping it will still them. She doesn't want to make the cut too deep by accident.

     "Are you ready?" Jonathan asks them both, still sounding slightly unconvinced himself.

     Both of the girls nod quietly. Daphne places the edge of the blade to her palm, feeling lightheaded at the press of the knife against her skin. Not quite cutting through, yet, but soon. She glances quickly up at the lights again. How quickly would the monster come once they had drawn blood? Daphne doesn't quite know how ready she is to face this thing again.

"On three," Jonathan says. "One..."

"Two..." Daphne murmurs, staring at the knife.

A longer pause passes, and Daphne finds herself in limbo as the tip of the knife almost punctures her skin. She notices Jonathan is watching Nancy, who is fighting back tears as her lips tremble.

"You don't have to do this—" he begins to say.

"Jonathan," Nancy snaps nervously, "stop talking."

"I'm just saying—"

"Three!"

Without a second thought, Daphne slashes the blade across her palm the same time they do. Her hand is instantly stricken with pain, shooting out through her wrist and making her flinch — her knife clatters to the floor. Blood oozes from the fresh cut, trickling down the sides of her hand and painting the carpet below in spots of crimson that blossom like watercolour. Daphne cradles her hand, hissing through her teeth as tears spring to her eyes. Thank fuck that was my left hand, she thinks bitterly.

Nancy takes on the responsibility of bandaging them all up. Half-bleeding herself, she first rinses her own wound and bandages it up, while Daphne and Jonathan sit on the couch gingerly applying pressure to stop the bleeding. Daphne is next, Nancy being as gentle as possible when winding the strip of bandage around her hand. The ache is still there, pulsating bursts of pain making her hand throb miserably.

     Once she is bandaged up and Nancy is tending to Jonathan, Daphne meanders carefully around their set-up traps to take in the deteriorating Byers house. It has been beaten, bruised, torn down and upturned in every way... what a home Will is going to come home to. She wanders into the kitchen, sees all the dirty dishes neglected this week after having better things to do. A giant stack of papers and books has been dumped on the dining table from where they had to clear space for traps. Sticking out from the side of this stack is the corner of an illustration, coloured neatly in orange crayon.

Wincing slightly at the flexing of her injured hand it requires, Daphne fishes the piece of paper from the stack and inspects it curiously. A carefully-illustrated wizard has been drawn, the robe gently shaded in blue and the pointed hat in orange. Out from his sleeve, he seems to be shooting angry balls of lime green that have been scribbled. In the corner of the page, written in Joyce's handwriting, it reads: Will Byers. October 12th, 1983.

Daphne can't help but smile. It almost feels like something intimate, something she shouldn't be seeing, but it feels like a privilege to see what goes on in his imagination splashed onto the page like this. He has always reminded her of herself when she was his age, and this drawing only proves it. Except more often, she would write stories and imagine their adaptions to the silver screen (having not had the technology to make them herself). Another one of his drawings is also displayed on the refrigerator door, pinned down with a magnet.

She hopes dearly that he will be able to come back and finish his drawing.

A fierce rapping on the door makes her jump, and she also hears Nancy and Jonathan shift from the other room. Daphne walks to the hall and sees the silhouette looming behind the misted window. "Do you think it's the...?" Nancy trails off, watching the door in trepidation.

Daphne shakes her head, perplexed. "No..." she replies slowly, "I don't think it would be politely knocking."

Another rapid series of knocks ensue. And then a desperate voice from the other side: "Jonathan? Are you there man, it's... it's Steve! Listen, I just want to talk!"

The banging on the door continues, and as Nancy storms over to answer, Daphne internally cringes at herself. Maybe her whole speech about "Next time you see Nancy, talk to her" should have waited until after tonight... Nancy keeps the chain on the door, and through the slightly opened crack, Daphne can just about spot Steve's apologetic face.

"Steve, listen to me," Nancy instantly warns him.

"Hey. Nancy, what—"

"You need to leave."

"I'm not trying to start anything, okay?" he pleads.

"I don't care about that," Nancy snaps at him. "You need to leave."

"No, no, no!" Steve stammers as she tries to slam the door on him, wedging his foot in the gap. He slams his hand against the doorframe in frustration. "Listen, I messed up, okay? I messed... I messed up. Really. Please. I just want to make things right. Okay? Please, please..." The pain in his features vanishes for a moment, as he finally clocks the bandage wrapped around Nancy's palm. "Hey, what happened to your hand?"

"Nothing..." she replies, unconvincingly.

"Is that blood?" Steve asks, grabbing her hand in concern. She flinches and jerks it away.

"Steve, it's nothing." Nancy insists. "It was... an accident."

"What's going on? Wait a sec... did he do this to you?"

"No."

"Nancy, let me in!"

"No! No, Steve—"

Steve barges past Nancy, bursting into the room where Jonathan and Daphne awkwardly stand to face him. Steve takes a moment to observe his surroundings — completely bewildered by the lights, the traps, the blood. He squints at Daphne in disbelief, noticing the cuts on her and Jonathan's hands, too. As a total stranger to this, she suddenly wonders how genuinely insane this must all look to him.

"You too?" he asks her. "What the hell is going on here?"

"Steve, there's no time," Daphne pleads. The monster could be here any minute and she dreads to think of how his presence could totally derail their plan — and more importantly, get him or all of them killed. She takes in his features, the large gash still shiny with blood if his face becomes too animated. She glances from her bandaged hand to his face, and it suddenly hits her.

His blood. With Steve here, his bloodied face, the lure for the monster just increased tenfold.

     Jonathan has started trying to wrestle Steve towards the door, but he won't be so easily deterred. "Wait a second, is that—" Steve sniffs the air and his eyes widen. "Is that gasoline?!"

     "Steve, we're not joking around here," Daphne begs, her eyes fixed on the lights. "You have to go."

     "No! What the hell is going on here?"

     "Listen to me," Jonathan insists. "I'm not asking you, I'm telling you to get out—"

     Click. All three of them turn around, Steve yelping as he finds himself staring down the barrel of a gun wielded by Nancy Wheeler. "Steve, get out!" she cries.

     "Wait, what? What is going on?!"

     "You have five seconds to get out of here."

     Daphne lunges for a handgun from the coffee table, but not for Steve. She checks it is loaded and stares up expectantly at the ceiling.

     "Okay, is this a joke?" Steve whimpers. "Stop. Put the gun down!"

     "I'm doing this for you..."

     A flash of magenta catches Daphne's eye. Then marigold, then emerald.

     "Three... two..."

     "Nancy..." she warns.

     The whole room bursts into ominous technicolour, screaming its warning furiously — she has never seen the bulbs progress from stillness to frayed panic so quickly.

     "NANCY!" Daphne screams. Getting her attention, she elaborates. "The lights... it's coming."

     "Wait, what's here?" Steve asks wildly.

     "Where is it?" Nancy asks, her back to Daphne as she places her finger on the trigger. They rotate around, looking desperately.

     "Where's what? Whoa!" he exclaims, backing from Jonathan as he picks up the nail bat. "Easy with that!"

     "I don't know," Daphne looks around frantically. "There's no way of telling. It could be anywhere..."

     "Hellooo? Will someone please explain to me what the hell is going—"

     An almighty CRASH shakes them, dust and rubble raining down from the corner of the room. A gaping hole has been left in the ceiling, and through it a giant claw slashes through. Fight or flight. Its roar rattles her skull, the gun almost slipping from her hands.

"RUN!" Jonathan yells. They tear down the hall, hurdling over the bear trap as Steve follows suit behind them, and skidding to a halt in Will's room. Jonathan locks the door behind them and they all gasp for breath.

"Jesus! Jesus!" Steve is still screaming. "What the hell was that? What the hell was that?"

In unison, the trio turn around to face him. "Shut up!" they snap back.

From outside, the muffled screeching of the monster leaves Daphne's hairs standing on end. The electricity jolts sharply before shuddering to a standstill. Silence engulfs them. They all share confused glances with one another.

"What's happening? Is it gone?" Nancy asks.

Daphne shakes her head slowly, although even she's puzzled. "Too good to be true..."

Cautiously, Jonathan advances out into the empty hallway, finding no sight of the monster. He passes the weight of the nail bat between his hands as the others trail behind him, weapons at the ready except for Steve. The living room has also been emptied. Daphne can't understand why it has fled. Unless the monster is smarter than they thought... it can't have just left, surely.

Steve is having trouble getting his head around it all. "This is crazy, this is crazy, this is CRAZY! THIS IS CRAZY!" He lunges towards the pale yellow phone and almost rips it from its cord. But before he can dial any numbers, Nancy rips it from his grip. "What— What are you doing? Are you insane?" Steve whimpers.

"It's going to come back!" Nancy snaps. "So you need to leave... now."

This time, Steve wastes no time in retreating from the scene, and Daphne lets herself feel relieved briefly that he won't intervene in their plans anymore or get himself killed. But the lights begin to strobe once more, the room erupting into bursts of primary colours. The trio look around, searching desperately for the monster.

"Where is it?"

"I don't know... come on... come on, you son of a bitch!"

     "Where are you?"

     "Come on!"

     The room is swallowed by darkness. Daphne's breath hitches in her throat — the moonlight shining through the window isn't discernible from the dim outline of the Upside Down. You're not there, you're not there, you're not there... A low growl comes from her side. Its shadow looms large, blocking the light.

     She dares to look up.

     The moonlight glistens against the coat of slime it wears, teeth bared as it hovers readily over Jonathan.

     "Jonathan, NO!"

     Before he can react, the monster has him pinned to the floor, slime from its jaws dripping in large clumps onto Jonathan's face. The girls both scramble for their guns in the dark. Daphne aims at the target, thankful for the close range, and pulls the trigger. Again, and again, and again. The force of the shots shudder through her body but barely faze the monster. Now she's the bait. The monster tilts its head at her, as if it recognises this morsel from somewhere. It seems to remember.

     With one blow of its arm, it sends Daphne flying into the wall with the sound of a stray bullet — she lets out a loud grunt as her back thuds against it and she slips to the floor. Not too much damage done, maybe nothing more than bruising. She slowly tries to get back up, temporarily winded by the impact, and tries locating her gun in the dark.

     But her gun is gone... shit, her gun is gone.

     It had slipped when the monster knocked her, clattering to the floorboards and firing off a ricocheting shot. It's way over there, by the couch, and the monster is headed right for her.

     "Go to hell, you son of a bitch!" Nancy manages to get two clean shots at the back of the monster's head, before the dreaded sound of empty clicking comes from her gun. "Shit, shit, shit!" she cries. She's out of ammo.

     The monster continues its advance towards Daphne as she backs up against the wall. If she could just... stretch out enough... she could grab one of the weapons propped up against the couch. Something to at least defend herself. But the more she is cornered, the harder it becomes to sneak away.

The monster's cold shadow surrounds Daphne and at the last minute she braces herself, fearing the worst. In the strobing lights its mouth opens up before her, and the blast of its roar shakes her to her core — but this time she keeps her eyes open. Its head has cracked open like a blossoming flower, rows upon rows of jagged teeth lined up in the raw flesh lining its mouth. All she can see inside is darkness.

This is it. This is how it ends.

She squeezes her eyes shut, shielding herself with her arms as a futile attempt at self-defence. She expects to feel teeth sinking into her, blood draining out of her, anything...

Instead, she hears a loud cry and the squelch of something making impact with the monster. It growls painfully in response. Confused, Daphne un-shields herself, and the sight to behold is something else. The unmistakable silhouette is there, but it takes a moment for it to sink in...

She can't believe her eyes.

Steve Harrington is beating the shit out of the monster.

     Wielding the nail bat, he continually bludgeons the creature for long enough to distract it. He is constantly moving, changing his course, and striking from behind.

     Now is her chance.

     Daphne gets up and lunges to the coffee table, blindingly seizing the biggest thing she can find — a garden pitchfork. Steve is luring the monster into the hallway, clearly towards the trap, but has now unintentionally begun cornering himself with nowhere to escape. She wrings her hands around the wooden handle, running over to his side.

     "Motherfucker!" she cries. With all the force she can muster, Daphne thrusts the pitchfork into the monster's back. It writhes and howls, stuck onto the ends of the fork.

     That's for Tonya.

     She yanks the pitchfork back, slime dripping from the ends of the rusted points. It tries to turn on her but she fiercely stabs it in the stomach this time.

     That was for Barb.

     Before it can raise its claw to attack Daphne, Steve hits it a couple more times with the nail bat. They're edging nearer towards the bear trap now, the metal of it glinting in the flashing lights.

     This is for Will...

     With one last push, she charges forward and thrusts the pitchfork hard, whilst Steve whacks it with the bat once more. Their combined force sends the monster staggering backwards — the yellow yo-yo disappears into the darkness as the bear trap's death close over the monster.

     "It's in the trap!" Steve hollers, watching it struggle.

     Nancy is already at their side with a re-loaded gun, and Jonathan springs in front of them with his lighter. He ignites it and chucks it onto the carpet beneath the bear trap. Instantaneously the monster and the hall is engulfed in flames, convulsing in agony. The heat and blinding light of the flames stuns them all, shielding their eyes with their sleeves. Jonathan lunges for the fire extinguisher at the opportune and sprays vaguely into the distance until all the flames have been pattered out...

     The four of them cough and splutter as they inhale lungfuls of smoke in the aftermath, the stench of singed flesh putrid and eye-watering. Daphne rubs her eyes, phosphenes still floating before her from the brightness of the flames.

     "Is everyone okay?" she asks, adrenaline still buzzing through her. Nancy and Jonathan nod, and so does Steve after one last cough. The crazy sixty seconds that just passed her by hit her with full force. She remembers almost giving in, no hope for defence, and the sudden re-appearance of Steve Harrington armed with the nail bat...

     Did Steve Harrington just save her life?

     She wants to say something to him, but she has no clue what. Instead, she focuses her attention on the remnants of the monster in the bear trap. Only a shrivelled pile of slime remains, singed and ash-dusted. The walls have been blackened by the flames, wallpaper burnt and peeling. Sorry, Joyce... Daphne thinks to herself.

     A blink of turquoise above them catches her eye. Then marigold, magenta, emerald, scarlet, before nothing. Then once again — one, two, three, four, nothing. The other three's guards immediately shoot up, ready with their weapons.

"Is it coming back?" asks Nancy.

Daphne shakes her head. "I don't think that's what it is... this is different. It happened when we were able to talk to Will..."

"Unless that isn't Will," Jonathan murmurs. He and Daphne share a look, and after a while she understands: he's wondering if it might be Joyce and Hopper. If they are at the lab, they could very well have entered the Upside Down to look for Will.

"Possibly."

Steve releases a bewildered breath behind them. "What the fu—"

"Shhh," Nancy silences him.

Daphne leading the way, Jonathan, Steve and Nancy follow the soft glow of the lights carefully. They navigate the way they carve a trail around the house, almost like footsteps. Footsteps... Daphne remembers the analogy Mike explained to them earlier, about the flea and the acrobat. How they were opposite worlds. What if Joyce and Hopper were right here with them, but in the Upside Down?

"Mom..." Jonathan whispers, as if she can hear him, a glassy sheen forming over his eyes. A couple of bulbs near the doorway illuminate a little brighter — Daphne wonders if she and Hopper are standing still.

     The four of them walk out onto the porch, watching a nearby streetlight flicker as Joyce and Hopper must be leaving the alternate Byers house. Daphne finds herself feeling a rush of exhaustion, legs throbbing and more awareness of the pain in her sliced hand.

     "So... what do we do now?" Nancy asks, lowering her gun.

    Daphne stares out into the darkness, feeling the strangely serene quietness of tonight. It is almost like everything has gone on without a single notice from anyone else in Hawkins.

     "There's nothing else we can do," Daphne sighs. "Except... wait."

━━━━━━

A/N;

FOUR! CHAPTERS! LEFT!

this chapter came out quicker than i expected, since i was so excited after yesterday's update and this chapter was also so exciting and fun to write. usually action is a pain in the royal behind, but i'm genuinely so proud of this. daphne having her badass moment with steve was... so cool. anyone else think they make a pretty good team? *wink wonk*

as usual, thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoy the rest of your day/evening.

— Imogen

[ Published: October 22nd, 2021 ]