CHAPTER EIGHT.
1x08: The Upside Down

The five party members and Corey were left behind from all the action, sitting in the bleachers of the middle school's gymnasium. Hopper and Joyce had left to go to the Gate, and Nancy and Jonathan were ordered to stay back and make sure the kids stayed (mostly because Sam had tried leaving with Hopper and Joyce, fighting hard with the chief on it). The two teenagers were not in the gym, but presumably in the gym's entrance.

Dustin, Mike, and Eleven sat on the first row, Sam and Lucas on the second, and Corey by himself, per usual, on the third.

Not even one of the kids were at easy hearts right now, all stressed out about everything that could be happening right now—or, at least, that was how Sam felt. Will could be dead, Hopper could be dead, Joyce could be dead, Barbara was dead, maybe the bad men had arrived and even Nancy and Jonathan were dead—

Okay, so a lot of people could be dead, and Sam needed to calm the hell down.

Sam glanced behind herself anxiously, feeling uncomfortable with having Corey at her back. She hated knowing he could be staring at her, judging her, and she couldn't do anything about it. But he was zoned out, eyes trained on nothing in particular. She sighed over how anxious she could really get, turning back to face the front, putting her elbows on her knees.

Lucas leaned into Sam, starting to whisper. "So... Corey?"

Sam turned her head, face close to Lucas's. She didn't risk turning her head back again, but side-eyed her cousin to see he hadn't moved in the past few seconds. So Sam locked eyes with Lucas .

"Yeah," she breathed. "I mean, I guess. I don't know."

Lucas frowned at the uncomfortable look on Sam's face. He kept his voice low, said, "It's weird."

What was weird—the fact Corey was here, that he was being civil, that he wasn't beating anyone up, that he wasn't vandalizing property, that he and Sam weren't stuck in a screaming match—Lucas didn't specify, but they all were viable prospects. Sam agreed with all of the unspoken options.

"It is," Sam agreed, because she didn't really know what else to say.

"I thought he'd be... different. Worse?"

"I thought he would be too."

"Are you okay?"

Sam huffed, because that question had a lot of weight to it. She stared out, contemplating, before glancing at Lucas again. "Ask me tomorrow?"

"Well," Lucas started, checking his watch for moment, "the day's almost over, so I guess I'll be asking you in about—"

"Oh my God," Sam barked out a laugh, nudging Lucas in the shoulder with her own. "Shut up, you nerd."

Lucas couldn't even be offended at the insult. He was letting Sam shove him, smiling back at her.

Mike abruptly shot up from the bleachers, running out of the gym. The remaining kids shared confused looks, wondering where Mike had gone off to. However, that answer came soon, because a few moments later he entered the gym again. When he reached the rest of them, Sam noted the distressed look on his face.

"They're gone," were the words that flew out of his mouth.

All the kids shared looks, but it was Corey who was first to speak.

"What the hell are you saying, Wheeler?" he asked.

Choosing better than to respond to the attitude in Corey's question, Mike just answered it instead. "Nancy and Jonathan. His car's gone."

"They're probably just sucking face somewhere," Dustin dismissed.

Lucas's face screwed up, nose crinkling. "Gross."

Sam looked at Lucas in confusion. "I thought you said she was dating Steve Harrington?"

"She is," Dustin started with a shrug, "but you never know. Those Byers' have alluring charisma."

"They're not sucking face," Mike said, disgusted about the insinuation. "No way!"

"Did they go with the chief?"

"I don't know!"

"No," Eleven replied quietly, though she was loud enough for everyone to hear. They stared at her, wondering how she knew all these things.

"Damn, this random girl really is a little weirdo," Corey muttered.

Sam hit Corey in the shin, gesturing at him with a look that said to shut the hell up.

"Did you see them?" Mike questioned Eleven. "Do you know where they went?"

"Yes."

"Where? Where did they go?" Mike asked, doing a horrible job at hiding his concern for Nancy.

"Demogorgon."

Sam's face dropped, not only in shock, but also in fear for what may happen to Nancy and Jonathan. She wasn't the only one who felt this way, as the other members of the party shared worried looks.

"What the hell does that mean?"

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

"Guys—guys! This is crazy," Mike said, trying to convince everyone they needed to act. "We can't just wait around!"

"Here's what I've found out in the past couple of hours: dead people are actually alive, alternate dimensions exist, our lab opened up a gate to aforementioned dimension, and that dimension has monsters and shit like Demogorgons, or whatever the fucking hell they're called in it," Corey ranted. It was the most he'd said the whole night. "You want to throw yourself right into that like an idiot?!"

"Oh, I'm the idiot?!" Mike snapped, wheeling around to Corey. "What have you done to help out, Gray?! Sit here and make sarcastic comments like you know everything when you've only been tuned in for less than a day?!"

Corey laughed humorlessly, both boys inching close to each other. "Yeah, because if you stopped and thought for five fucking seconds, you'd remember that you're all still fugitives! The only one who can actually leave is me!"

"Then leave!" Mike retaliated. "No one is asking you to be here! Not even your own damn cousin!"

"Okay!" Sam intervened, putting herself between Corey and Mike, pushing them apart. "Guys, stop—"

Corey ignored Sam, scoffing. "That's really nice, Wheeler. Nice to hear you don't care I'm basically risking my life for you."

"That doesn't mean anything when you haven't even been here for the last twelve years," Mike sneered, acting as if the party had been a thing for that long. "Or, actually thirteen, because your delinquent ass got held back!"

"Alright," Dustin muttered, "this is getting deeper than it needs to be—"

"You have no fucking room to say anything about—"

"Oh, I'm pretty sure I do—"

"ENOUGH!" Sam shouted.

Finally, finally, the two boys shut up. The shock on everyone's faces that Sam had gotten so aggressive was evident. Still in between Corey and Mike, her firm eyes darted between them.

"Corey, I get you're in the know now, but Mike is right: you don't understand all of this yet. We don't even understand all of this yet. Mike," she glanced at him, "he also has a point. The bad men are still looking for us. We don't even know where your sister and Jonathan are."

Mike frowned at her with a gaping mouth, looking offended. "El can find them!" he protested.

"Mike, look at her!" Dustin's hand pointed straight at Eleven. They all shifted their focuses to analyze her—she was curled in on herself, looking weaker than ever. "I still think we should stick to the chief's plan."

"Exactly," Lucas added. We stay here, keep El out of sight, and keep her safe. That's the most important thing, remember?"

Sam could not believe just mere hours ago Lucas wanted to leave her for dead.

Corey, who was now behind Sam, Lucas, and Dustin—kind of being guarded by them—peered at Mike with a smug look that seemed to piss Mike off even further.

"And Nancy's okay, Mike," Sam said, trying to hide Corey better because she knew him well enough. "She can handle herself. And she's with Jonathan. He knows like, every single life skill somehow."

"Yeah," Dustin agreed. "Nancy's kind of a badass now, so..."

With that, Dustin pivoted on his heel and started walking towards the other side of the gym. The remaining party members eyed him in confusion, watching Dustin strut.

"Where are you going? You just said stick to the plan!" Mike called out in exasperation, hands throwing up in the air.

Dustin looked back at them but continued walking the other way. "I am! I'm just gonna go get some chocolate pudding!"

"What?" Corey questioned, sounding thoroughly done.

"I'm telling you," Dustin said, "Lunch Lady Phyllis hoards that shit!"

"Are you serious?" Mike snapped, sounding thoroughly similar to Mike. Sam knew better than to point that out right now.

"El needs to be recharged!"

Lucas started trailing after Dustin, leaving Sam, Mike, Corey, and Eleven behind. Mike surveyed the group, and his eyes fixed onto Corey long enough they hardened in a glare again. Peeling them away, his gaze landed on Sam.

"I'll help move El to the cafeteria," Mike told her. "You can babysit him."

He walked over to where Eleven sat on the bleachers, leaving the two cousins behind. Corey was scowling, of course, and Sam was gaping at Mike miserably. She analyzed Corey with a stare, then back Mike, then nothing in particular just so she could sigh tiredly.

Fucking fantastic. 

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

"MIKE! I FOUND THE CHOCOLATE PUDDING!"

"OKAY!"

While Henderson and Sinclair raided the kitchen for Lunch Lady Phyllis's stash of chocolate pudding, Wheeler and Bald Girl conversed on a barren lunch table of the cafeteria. Sam and Corey were sitting on the floor with their backs against one of the cafeteria's walls, away from Wheeler and Bald Girl but still in the same vicinity.

Corey didn't know how to do this—didn't know how to show Sam he didn't hate her as much as she thought he did. It's not my fault you never cared enough to notice had been running through his head all night. How horrible had he been towards her? Was it so bad that Sam grouped Corey in with his parents?

Was he just like his dad?

He didn't know the answer to that and didn't think he even wanted to. He'd just been sitting here in silence, in fear he would only make everything worse. That was what he usually did, at any rate—destroyed something until he couldn't anymore, until his anger had finally run its course and all that was left was shameful regret.

In Corey's opinion, Sam was the nicest person in the history of the universe. He couldn't comprehend how someone could go through everything she did and still be radiant towards others. Maybe that was why she pissed him off so much. Maybe he was angry he couldn't be like her.

Somehow, he and Sam were back to just looking at each other again. Corey didn't know how they always ended up like this. He actually hated looking at people. Speaking to them as well. Hearing them breathe.

"You called me by my nickname, you know," Sam broke the silence, her voice quieter than usual.

Corey arched his brow. "Sam?"

She smiled. "Sammy."

Which, Corey absolutely did not believe happened. His confusion must've shown on his face, because Sam's grin grew. He hadn't seen the soft gesture directed towards him in a while.

"Right after I found out about Will. You called me Sammy."

Corey would like to argue, but he thought, horrifyingly, that Sam might've been right. He didn't say so, of course. He didn't say anything. Sam didn't seem surprised by this though—after all these years she had no doubt grown used to Corey's silences.

"You haven't called me Sammy since I was nine," she muttered.

Corey exhaled a large amount of air, struggling to even think about how he would respond. This was the perfect chance to finally turn his life around, and for some reason, he didn't want to fuck it up. He didn't want Sam to think he was a fuck up. Not like his dad thought.

"I know," he admitted with much effort. And with an even greater effort, he said, "I'm sorry."

Sam's eyebrows raised in surprise, although it seemed like she hadn't meant to do that. She quickly recovered her features, clearing her throat a little.

"Oh. Um..." Her eyes darted around, unsure. "Thanks?"

Corey huffed in amusement, but internally his heart was breaking. He'd done this to her. He was the one who convinced Sam he hated her. It was all his own fault, and not anyone else's, and now he didn't know how to clean up his own mess.

He was just like his dad.

"You're welcome," Corey said in a teasing tone. Seriously, however, he added, "I mean it though, Sam. I'm sorry. For everything."

Sam looked like a deer caught in headlights. There was so much going on behind her eyes he worried no one would ever understand. Corey sure didn't understand.

Then she laughed nervously. "I don't really know what to say to that—"

"I know," he interjected, embarrassed by himself. "And that's... It's my fault. I've treated you like crap—like my dad, and I don't know why I didn't think that was the shittiest thing for me to do..." Corey wasn't the most vocal person, he never was, but now that he started it didn't seem like he could stop. "Sometimes I just get so angry. And no one taught me how to contain that. So instead of working it out, I... I..."

"You snap?" Sam finished for him, seeing as Corey couldn't find the right words himself.

Corey nodded shamefully, but Sam still looked at him with a kind gaze. It was soft and nothing like any way his dad had ever looked at him. It was nothing he deserved.

"Yeah," he murmured. "I snap. I make everything worse. And it makes me angrier, and then I snap again, and I never want to, and it's just a fucking cycle I can't break."

A cycle of anger that could easily turn into a cycle of abuse if Corey wasn't cautious enough. And that acknowledgement terrified him.

Sam pressed her lips in a line, and Corey could tell she was thinking something through very thoroughly. That was the thing about Sam—she thought everything out, down to its very bone. Down to its make and model. She was so smart, and Corey didn't get how someone could be so intelligent at her age. He definitely didn't get how the Gray family was related to someone so intelligent.

"I get that, Corey," Sam started in a serious voice. "I've lived with you for two years. Trust me, I understand all of it." She forced herself not to bite her fingernails, placing her hands on her bent knees and looking back at Corey. "I just wish you knew that I'm here. I've been here. I don't want you to snap either. I just want to help you."

No one in the fucking world deserved Samantha Hughes, and everyone should be aware of that.

"You mean it?" Corey asked, quieter than a breath.

"Of course I do," Sam responded, and she was even quieter. "You're family. You're few of the only family I have left. That kind of stuff means a lot to me."

And for the first time in a very long while, Corey gave a genuine smile. Sam matched it, and her grin was a heart-warming thing.

"Well," Corey said, his tone light and teasing now. "I guess being cousins with a nerd does have its perks."

His words lacked the usual bite, and there was finally nothing tense about the banter. Sam for once looked amused. She even laughed a little.

"I'm not all so bad," she replied with a shrug.

No. No, actually, she really wasn't. Honestly Corey had never really enjoyed a conversation more than he enjoyed this one. It felt like a weight was being lifted off his chest in the best way possible.

"And I also think you should find a way to distract yourself," she continued. "Channel all that anger into... photography, I don't know—"

"Are you serious?" Corey's judgmental stare came back in full force.

"Why not? It worked for Jonathan."

"I thought you were gonna say like, football or something."

"Are you serious?" Sam asked. Now she was harboring the judgmental face. "Maybe if I wanted you to embarrass yourself. Our football team sucks."

Finally finding an opportunity for... Corey didn't know, bonding maybe, he raised an eyebrow. "Isn't Zimmerman the quarterback?"

Sam went stiff. She side-eyed Corey, trying and failing to hide her internal panic. "...Yeah."

"Wow, Samantha," Corey laughed, amused. "Talking bad about your own boyfriend's playing abilities—"

"Woah, woah, woah, woah!" Sam freaked, her face turning the brightest shade of red. "What?" she sputtered.

Corey just stared back at her. Sam was totally appalled.

"How do you know about that?!"

"So he is your boyfriend?" he teased.

"NO!" Sam squawked, gaining the attention of Bald Girl and an annoyed-looking Wheeler.

The glare Wheeler sent Corey's way killed the mood almost instantly. That always-festering annoyance returned quickly, and Corey rolled his eyes before glaring right back. He heard Sam exhale, deflating at the sight of their mutual enmity. When Corey broke his fiery gaze with Wheeler to look at Sam, she just seemed disappointed, and it somehow felt worse than any scolding his mother had ever given him.

Corey opened his mouth to explain himself, but nothing would come out.

Sam shook her head, looking between him and Wheeler. "I don't know what that was earlier. I'm not gonna press," she assured. "But... I mean, I think it'd be cool if you were part of the party. If we could be... friends. Like when we were little."

When we were little meant before my parents died, and they both knew that, so Sam didn't really need to say it. Corey already felt enough like a piece of shit.

"But, Core," Sam continued. "That can't happen if you two can't at least tolerate each other—"

"If you think I'm gonna go over there and be besties with him, then you're far mistaken," Corey snapped, far too quickly and cruel to be considered normal.

Luckily, Sam was patient and forgiving. "I wasn't going to say that," she said kindly. "Maybe just... find a middle ground. Try and resolve something. I don't know. But that seemed like more than a stirred-up argument. It always seems like more with you two."

Sam was somehow good at spotting these things. Corey hated it as much as he was grateful for it. Now would be one of those times he absolutely resented it.

Corey sighed to himself, shifting his head to stare at Wheeler for much longer than he needed to. For some reason, Wheeler was already staring at him.

But the moment, whatever it was, suddenly got severed.

Bright lights from outside glared at the cafeteria windows. Both Sam and Corey stood up in confusion. They saw Wheeler shooting out of his chair next to Bald Girl.

"Nancy!" Wheeler exclaimed, breaking out into a run. "Hold on, I'll be right back! Just stay here!"

Throwing out any thought of reconciling with Wheeler, Corey made a quick decision. "I don't trust him," he muttered, ignoring Sam's protests and running after the raven-haired boy.

Corey was luckily faster than Wheeler, and able to catch up with him quickly.

"Where the hell are you going?" Corey asked, following Wheeler as he headed for the school's exit doors.

Corey could hear Wheeler exhale in annoyance. Sparing Corey an annoyed glance, he snapped, "Didn't you hear me? I'm looking for Nancy."

They both slammed open the front doors, exiting the school to see who was outside.

"Did you forget that whole argument we had about being hunted down by the government?" Corey retaliated, hot on his tail. "Speaking of, I actually wanted to—"

Corey completely stopped in his tracks at the sight before him. The car pulling up was not, in fact, Nancy Wheeler. And, actually, there wasn't just one car.

There was a multitude of military vans, trucks, and cars pulling into the Hawkins Middle School parking lot at top speeds. Suited and uniformed men began filing out, pointed guns in hand.

"Chances they're not looking for us?" Corey asked, forgetting to mask the fear in his voice.

"Zero," Wheeler answered, sounding just as terrified. "Run."

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

Lucas and Dustin rejoined Sam and Eleven in the lunch room not long after Corey and Mike left them. The two boys returned with arms full of pudding. There was so much that Sam's eyes went wide—she didn't know this much chocolate pudding could even exist.

They dumped the desserts onto an empty table with excited smiles.

"This will charge your battery right up. I'm telling you," Dustin said, when Eleven picked up a can and stared at it uncertainly.

Lucas was directly across the circle table from Sam. She raised an eyebrow at him, silently conveying a question that Lucas shrugged in response to. Dustin was ripping into one of the pudding cans while Eleven tried to figure out how to do the same.

Before anyone could eat pudding though, Corey and Mike were running back in like mad-men.

"Guys!" Mike's tone was imperative. "Guys!"

Sam's brows creased. "What is it?"

"They found us," Corey panted, now having run up to the party's table. "They're here!"

"SHIT!" Dustin cursed.

In the next second, six pairs of legs were scrambling out of the cafeteria and running into the hallways.

Sam made sure all her friends were a safe distance down the hall before shoving a teacher's cart in front of the cafeteria door to bide them a few more seconds of running time.

She caught up to them quickly enough, throwing herself down a set of steps and taking a sharp right before running point blank into Dustin's backpack. He yelled at the sudden impact, spinning around in alarm and expecting a glaring uniformed agent with 9mm pointed at his head.

"It's me! It's me!" Sam gripped his forearms, trying to shut Dustin up.

Dustin panted heavily, slowly calming down as he registered Sam's panicked-stricken face. "Oh, shit. Hey, Specks. I thought you were—"

"Run!" Sam shrieked, urging her friends to keep moving with a newfound desperation. She was not going to let her friends be hurt by the bad men in any way. These people were her family, blood related or not, and Sam wasn't lying when she told Corey that kind of stuff meant a lot to her.

The group of six sprinted as fast as their legs would allow them, turning down lightless corner after lightless corner until they reached a hallway that would eventually take them to the exit.

Sam felt hope surge in her chest, filling her up with false promises of freedom and accomplishment—and it all vanished at the sight of bright lights emerging from the door.

Her eyes widened, realizing the bad men foiled their plans of exiting and now had sight of them. The kids didn't waste any time turning back and running into a different corridor to find another exit. However, as they did, more flashlights came around the corner. The six kids quickly turned back.

Running through the corridor again, Sam hoped their next turn would lead to safety. Unfortunately, she was proven wrong when more soldiers appeared before the party. These men were led by a woman with silver blonde hair and a sleek black suit complimented by a pristine white overcoat. She advanced on them with two uniformed guards flaking her sides, guns pointed and flashlights blinding.

Sam knew it without even having to looking around—they were surrounded on all sides, caged in. The blonde lady cocked her gun, pointing it right in their direction.

More specifically, Eleven's direction.

In a panic, Sam pushed Eleven behind her, making sure Sam was in aim of the gun instead of Eleven.

The woman stepped closer to Sam, her finger rested on the trigger, and before Sam could even blink, Eleven was moving Sam's arm away from her and stepping forward. When Sam glanced back, the determination in Eleven's eyes was scary; they were trained on the group of assailants before them, a ruthless ferocity in her stare Sam had never seen before—not even when she flipped the van.

The pursuers immediately halted in place, and Sam opened her mouth to question Eleven's actions when a grim, labored squelching sound filled the air.

The agents' hands began to waver as blood poured from their eye sockets like tortuous tears. In any other situation, Sam would be fainting, but the adrenaline was fueling her into a tunnel vision. She watched as their eyes glazed over and their flashlights began to flicker—then there was a sickening pop, and they all fell to the ground, lifeless and unmoving. Quick, efficient, panful.

Before the party had time to process, Eleven dropped too.

They all rushed over to her as Eleven's head collided with the harsh surface of the school floor, attempting to lure her from her exerted stupor, but she continued to fall limp in their hands.

"Eleven," Dustin urged, a harrowing concern in his voice. "Are you okay? El, you gotta wake up!"

Sam touched Eleven gently on the shoulder, and that one moment of contact made the lights flicker overhead for a second. She immediately retracted her hand, eyes on the boys.

"Something's wrong."

Corey looked as if his mind was running a million miles per hour. Eventually, he straightened up, no longer crouching. "Alright," he started in an exhale, "I'll go first and make sure the halls are clear."

"Are you stupid, Gray?" Mike said, shooting up immediately so he could grab Corey's sleeve. "That's so fucking dangerous!"

"You guys are at a much bigger risk than me!"

"That doesn't mean you're not important!"

"So you do care about me?"

"Guys!" Sam broke apart their bickering for like, the millionth time. Both boys looked down at Sam, who was kneeled around Eleven with Lucas and Dustin. They noted that Sam's fingers were resting over Eleven's dulling pulse. "She's barely breathing."

"We gotta go," Lucas worried, glancing up and down the hallway.

Just as they were all about to stand up, a foreign voice caught their attention.

"Leave her!" came the chilling voice, and they all turned to watch as a second group of suits rounded the corner, this time led by a white-haired man with an evil glint in his eyes. "Step away from the child."

"No!" Mike argued.

"How about you step away?" Sam remarked.

The man's eyes narrowed on Sam a suspicious amount.

"You want her?" Lucas goaded. "You have to kill us first."

"That's right!" Dustin jeered.

"Eat shit!" Corey barked.

But they only could do so much, being so little and unprepared for their age. Venomous words got them virtually nowhere, because in the next second, all five of them were being yanked away from Eleven; there was a guard designated to each kid, using both of their firm arms to encase them away from the fray. Sam yelled and struggled, squirming to be released, but the guard holding her had his arms around Sam's middle and was hoisting her into the air. It didn't help that Sam was the smallest of the bunch. Despite her weakness, Sam continued to punch and kick and yell out obscenities with her friends as they all tried scratching their way out.

In the end, they could only helplessly watch as the ugly, old man bent down to Eleven and held her, while Sam and the boys let out demands for him to let Eleven go. No matter how much they tried to get free or how loud they yelled, the bad men were overpowering the party.

"Eleven?" the man tried getting through to her, holding Eleven's face on either side with his large hands. "Eleven, can you hear me? Eleven?"

Eleven's eyes were fluttering open and shut. "Papa?" she rasped.

He brightened, and it made Sam sick to her stomach.

"Yes, yes. It's your Papa. I'm here now."

"Get off of me!" Sam demanded, trying to push herself from the soldier that held her back.

"Leave her alone!" Corey yelled, still thrashing himself back and forth.

"Let her go!" Mike screamed. "Let her go, you bastard!"

The ugly, old man turned Eleven away from her view of the party. "Shh, shh, you're sick," he cooed when she tried protesting. "You're sick, but I'm going to make you better. I'm going to take you back home, where I can make you well again. Where we can make all of this better so no one else gets hurt."

Eleven weakly met his stare, and for a moment, the ugly, old man looked optimistic.

But then, Eleven opened her mouth and replied, "Bad... Bad." She slowly reached her arm out towards the party, glancing at Mike. "Mike... Mike. Mike!"

The lights overhead began flickering violently. Sam felt her breath hitch in her throat when she registered the pool of blood they were all standing in.

"Blood," Sam realized, recalling Nancy and Jonathan's recap of this week's events.

We think it can detect blood, Nancy had said. It detects blood, like a shark, and then it strikes.

Lucas looked at Sam right next to him. "What?"

"Blood," she repeated, eyes trained on the fallen bodies Eleven had slain just moments prior.

As her eyes peered over the bodies, they eventually fell upon loud thuds in the distance. The wall ahead of them began to crack, and the ugly, old man spun around with wide eyes, unaware of the untimely demise he was about to endure.

The wall opened up and out popped a terrifying sight—there, right in front of them, was a bloody, flower-shaped head that fit Nancy and Jonathan's description almost exactly.

"Demogorgon," Dustin uttered, paralyzed with fear.

The beast burst through the wall of Hawkins Middle, opening its flower-shaped face and letting out a scream. This action caused the soldiers' grip on the party to fall slack so they could point their guns at the blood-thirsty beast. As the agents started shooting wildly at the Demogorgon, the kids used this distraction to make their move and grab Eleven.

Corey, the strongest of the six, carried Eleven bridal style while Lucas, Mike and Dustin led the way to their nearest safety. Sam hesitated, just for a second, eyeing one of the soldiers' corpses on the group.

"Sam, COME ON!" Corey shouted desperately, not advancing until he knew Sam was following their lead.

Impulsively, before she could second guess herself further, Sam picked up one of the machine guns (an MP5K, to be exact) that used to belong to a soldier. Then she ran after Lucas, Mike, Dustin, Corey, and Eleven.

Sam... sort of knew how to shoot guns, which was a fact absolutely nobody knew about her. Seriously. The only people who had known were Sam's parents, who were now dead. Besides Stephanie, that was.

It was a long story, one that Sam never really understood for herself, but to put it simply: Sam's mom had always been paranoid about their family being attacked. So paranoid, that she taught her eight-year-old and thirteen-year-old daughter how to shoot guns in case anything happened to them.

Sam was currently thanking her mom up above for her extreme paranoia and worry.

She caught up to the party, who was being led by Mike down hallway after hallway. There didn't seem to be any free exit for them, so Mike ultimately went for an empty classroom at the end of the corridor. Lucas opened it, allowing for Mike, Dustin, Corey, Eleven, and Sam to enter. He followed in afterward, closing the door and making sure it was locked.

"Sorry. Hold on, we're almost there," Corey said to Eleven as he carried her toward the back of the classroom. Everyone else followed when Corey muttered, "Help, help. Come on, get her on the table."

Once Corey set her down, he let out a long, heavy breath with his hands on his hips. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Sam. Once he did, he had to do a double take.

"Where the hell did you get a machine gun?"

All heads whipped to Sam. Their eyes went wide with the realization this twelve-year-old girl was in possession of a gun.

"From one of the hundred dead corpses out there, if you missed them," Sam retorted.

"Jesus, Hughes," Lucas breathed, eyes darting up and down her. "Looks like you really ended up bringing a gun in the end, huh?"

You completely missed the point! Anything would have better than grunge clothes.

What did you want me to bring, Lucas? A gun?

Sam huffed, although they didn't really have time to laugh about anything right now. The Demogorgon was quite literally on the hunt for them.

"Do you even know how to shoot that?" Dustin asked, awed.

"We're about to find out."

"Then what—"

"My mom," Sam answered. "Don't ask."

Mike stood by Eleven's side, holding her hand in an attempt to comfort her. "Just hold on a little longer, okay?" he said. "He's gone. The bad man's gone. We'll be home soon, and my mom... she'll get you your own bed. You can eat as many Eggos as you want."

"Promise?" Eleven whispered, tears prickling her eyes.

He nodded. "Promise."

Sam noticed the lights in the classroom were flickering, and each second it was intensifying, causing a sick feeling to grow in her stomach. Before she could point this out to her friends, something else beat her to it: the screams of the Demogorgon. Sam, Lucas, Mike, Dustin, and Corey jumped back in shock at the sound of gunshots. In response, Sam's grip on the machine gun tightened in precaution.

However, the sound of rapid-fire went away in the next breath. The party stared at the locked door in fear, knowing nothing good was going to follow this silence.

"I-I-Is... Is it dead?" Dustin stammered. He sounded so scared.

Sam swallowed, shaking her head stiffly. "I don't think that's the case."

To confirm Sam's theory, the door blew open, revealing the Demogorgon.

The five kids screamed and jumped back, terror filling their bones at the sight of the monster. They had to act quickly, so Mike, Dustin, and Corey ushered the two people who had some sort of weapons forward—Sam with her gun and Lucas with his wrist rocket.

Lucas threw his backpack off his shoulders and onto the table where Eleven lay. He quickly pulled out his wrist rocket and the chosen rock, pulling it, squinting to aim.

Sam didn't know why the boys were surprised when it merely bounced off the Demogorgon's head. The only effect Lucas had was angering the beast further.

"MOVE!" Sam yelled finally, shoving Lucas out of the way and standing in front of the whole party.

Alright, Sammy, you got it. Just take the safety off and cock it.

Machine guns were much different than pistols, Sam quickly figured out. But she was a smart kid, and they were about to die, so she adjusted to her weapon as swiftly as she could. She had to.

That's my girl. Deep breath in, hold to aim, slow breath out and—

Sam held her finger on the trigger, and the bullets started firing out at a rapid pace. The Demogorgon roared in anger, flailing its body around and trying to attack the kids for shooting at it. Sam continued shifting so she was in front of the party at all times, changing her aim when she needed to.

Luckily, she didn't miss once.

Unluckily, the Demogorgon was barely affected by the wounds of a bullet. If anything, it was just caught off guard and pissed off.

"KEEP SHOOTING!" Mike yelled from behind Sam, not even noticing he and Corey were clutching each other out of fear.

"KILL HIM, SAM!" Dustin desperately added.

"I'M TRYING!" Sam shouted back. She continued the rapid-fire, shooting the bullets right into the Demogorgon's open, four-lipped mouth.

Sam wished she'd realized that was the Demogorgon's weak spot much earlier, because right when she did, she heard the gun click.

The cartridge of bullets was empty.

"FUCK!" Sam yelled, dislodging the cartridge and confirming it was, in fact, out of bullets. The cartridge clattered down to the ground harshly with Sam's frustration.

"GIVE ME THAT!" Corey called out, coming right up to Sam and taking the weapon from her hands.

She watched, a little taken aback, as Corey chucked the useless gun right at the Demogorgon with as much strength as he could muster.

The most surprising thing, was that the Demogorgon flung back, crashing into the chalkboard. Sam stumbled back a bit with the boys, trying to grasp how Corey's little throw managed to make the tall beast crash into the board just like that.

Her answer came when Eleven stepped through the group, her own eyes on the Demogorgon. Worry washed over Sam upon seeing Eleven stand—she looked paler than before, and her veins were popping out of her head while blood dripped through her nose and ears. Only a minute ago she couldn't even sit up, but now she was using all her energy to stop the Demogorgon.

Sam knew right then something was about to happen.

Eleven took slow, determined steps toward the creature as it squirmed from where it had been embedded in the green chalkboard, debris falling all around as it struggled to break out of the invisible hold. The lights began to flicker even more violently.

Mike acted first, rushing forward to grab a hold of Eleven's arm, only to be thrown back with a single flick of her wrist. He was sent crashing into the equipment cupboards with a strangled yell.

Eleven continued walking toward the Demogorgon. The lights began flickering immensely again, and the only sound in the room was the Demogorgon's agonizing shrieks. Sam assumed it was from the pain Eleven was bringing it, but Sam only grew concerned. Eleven was far too weak to accomplish this—was she doing to die?

At the thought, tears sprung in Sam's eyes.

Eleven stopped before the Demogorgon and glanced back at the party.

"Goodbye, Mike," Eleven sorrowfully whispered. She turned her attention back to the beast in front of her who continued its roars. "No more."

Eleven shot her arms forward while the Demogorgon let out a high-pitched shriek. Sam covered her ears at the agonizing noise, and the boys did the same as they all let out groans. She grimaced, shutting her eyes as the sound intensified, Eleven's screams meshing with the Demogorgon's.

It felt like an eternity, but the ear-shattering noises eventually came to a stop. Sam opened her eyes, slowly removing her hands from her ears and lifting her head. She looked to the front of the classroom, the spot where Eleven once stood now vacant. Instead, there were dark specks, almost like ashes, falling to the floor.

Sam let out a miserable breath as she looked around the classroom.

Eleven was nowhere to be found.

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯

Published: January 14, 2024
Re-published: October 30, 2025

BAILEY YAPS...

I have such a strong appreciation for Corey Gray man. Like I used to think he was annoying but he had like a million things to be annoying about. His character development is something very dear to my heart, especially since it's founded in love for his cousin and not some stupid shit like changing to appease a love interest. He just cares about his family man:(

Also totally not implying that he and Mike are love interests, but if I was, I would tell you that their ship name is Colorwheel because 1) Corey GRAY = color 2) Mike WHEELER = wheel 3) Gay name 4 gay ppl

Give it up for Samantha "stay strapped" Hughes. Not to be confused with Nancy "walk 'em down" Wheeler