chapter eight:
❛ the flayed ❜

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Back in the familiar, dimly lit basement of Mike Wheeler's house, the group sat in tense silence. The air was thick with worry and anticipation, the walls seeming to close in on them as they all stared at Eleven, who was sitting cross-legged on the worn couch, her eyes covered by a makeshift blindfold-one of Mike's ties. The room was littered with old board games, comic books, and a scattering of papers from their recent investigations, but none of the usual clutter provided any comfort now.

Eleven's breathing was deep and controlled, the way Eight had taught her, but even then, the strain was evident in the tension in her shoulders. She was in the void again, searching for Hopper-desperate to find him after his sudden and mysterious disappearance. The others waited anxiously, the only sounds in the room being the faint hum of the basement's lightbulb and their own uneasy breathing.

After what felt like an eternity, Eleven finally broke the silence. "I found him," she stated, her voice barely above a whisper. A single trickle of blood ran from her nose, a familiar but still unsettling sight.

Max was the first to react, her concern sharp and immediate. "Where is he?" she asked, her voice carrying a note of urgency that made everyone sit up a little straighter.

"Woods," Eleven responded, her tone distant, still partially connected to the void.

"Woods?" Lucas echoed, confusion and worry etched on his face. "What woods? Is he alone?"

El shook her head slightly, the blindfold still in place as she focused. "He's with... Will's mom," she added, her voice wavering slightly as she tried to make sense of what she was seeing.

A sharp intake of breath came from Will. "My-My mom?" he stammered, his voice shaky with both fear and relief. The idea of his mother being involved in whatever was happening was terrifying, but at least she was alive, and so was Hopper.

Wren, standing with his arms crossed, his expression as serious as ever, furrowed his brow. "What are they doing?" he asked, his tone laced with suspicion. He knew better than anyone how strange things could get.

Eleven hesitated, her voice uncertain as she tried to decipher the images in her mind. "Ill... annoy. They're going to Ill-annoy."

Her pronunciation of the state was awkward, and it took a moment for everyone to realize what she was trying to say.

There was a sudden knock on the basement door, causing everyone to jump slightly. "Mike! Breakfast!" Karen Wheeler's voice called from the other side of the door.

"Not now, Mom!" Mike shouted back, his tone sharp with irritation. Wren shot him a look, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"What is it with you yelling at your mom and my aunt? Yo, Be more respectful," he teased, his voice light but carrying an undercurrent of genuine annoyance at Mike's tone.

Mike rolled his eyes at his comment, quickly mimicking him. "Yo, Be more respectful," he mocked, before turning his attention back to Eleven. Wren gave him a glare but let it slide for now, focusing on the matter at hand.

"Illnois? Illnois, like the state? The state of Illinois?" Mike questioned, his words coming out in a rapid stream as he tried to make sense of the situation.

Both Max and Wren exchanged looks, silently questioning why Mike felt the need to clarify what was already obvious. El, now visibly tired, removed the tie from her eyes and shrugged, her uncertainty clear.

"Ill-annoy," she repeated, the word still not sounding right.

Max, seeing how drained Eleven was, stood up and took her hand gently. "Come on, let's go clean you up," she said softly, guiding El towards the bathroom. As they left the room, Mike watched the door close behind them, a worried frown creasing his brow.

Mike continued to pace back and forth, his frustration palpable as he ran a hand through his hair. "Something's not right," he said, his voice rising in intensity. "I can't get Hopper off my back all summer. Now all of a sudden, he's hiking with Will's mom to Illinois? And Dustin's MIA too? I mean, this can't be a coincidence!"

Wren, sprawled out on the couch with an unimpressed look, rolled his eyes. "It could be just a coincidence, Mike. You need to chill," he replied with a dismissive shrug, trying to get comfortable in the cushions. Mike ignored him completely.

Lucas, munching on a box of Cheerios, looked up from his spot on the floor. "Wren's right. What does it matter?" he said, popping a handful of cereal into his mouth.

"The bottom line is, they're not here. And we are," Lucas added, his tone more level-headed than Mike's frantic energy.

"Exactly. It's up to us," Wren chimed in, a mischievous grin creeping across his face as he gestured dramatically, trying to lighten the mood.

"Up to us to do what exactly?" Mike countered, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes at Wren.

"Find Billy and stop him," Lucas declared, his expression serious.

"Oh, yeah, that's a really nice sentiment," Mike scoffed, pacing again, "but even if El could find him again-and that's a pretty big if-then what?"

Wren smirked, leaning forward. "We burn the shit out of him and make sure he doesn't escape this time. I'll punch him and make him see the darkness if I need to," he stated defiantly.

Mike stared at him in disbelief, the absurdity of Wren's suggestion hitting him hard. "Make him see darkness? We're not killing him," he insisted, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

"I didn't say kill him! I'd just knock him out for a bit, then boom! That weird shadow comes out of him or whatever, and then we win," Wren shrugged, as if it was the most logical solution in the world.

"No, see, that's the problem! We don't. We don't win. We got the Mind Flayer out of Will before, and he just came right back. We don't just have to stop Billy; we have to stop the Mind Flayer," Mike insisted, his voice rising with each point he made.

"And how the fuck do we do that, Mike?" Wren shot back, his patience wearing thin.

"I don't know," Mike muttered, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on his shoulders.

"You don't know!? You guys are the nerds here! Use your science brains!" Wren exclaimed, his voice rising in frustration as he stood up.

Will sighed, leaning against the wall. "Maybe El does," he suggested quietly, glancing towards the bathroom door.

Mike turned his head, eyebrows furrowing. "What are they still doing in there?" he questioned, irritation coloring his tone.

Wren shrugged again, unfazed. "Gossiping," he said, leaning back against the couch as he reached for another handful of Cheerios.

Lucas joined Wren's side, nodding in agreement. "Girls just like hanging out in bathrooms," he said matter-of-factly, popping another Cheerio into his mouth.

"Why?" Mike asked, his tone judgmental as he crossed his arms.

"You ask a lot of questions," Wren complained, exasperated.

"They're conspiring against me," Mike muttered darkly, shooting a glare at the bathroom door.

"God! Stop making everything about you!" Wren exclaimed, throwing his arms up in frustration.

"Is that what you're concerned about now?" Will retorted, his glare sharp as he glared at Mike.

"It's not my main concern! It's just a sub-concern!" Mike insisted, trying to defend himself.

"Bullshit, Mike! You do realize you guys are over, right? Get over it!" Wren exclaimed, his voice rising again.

"It's not over, okay? We're just taking a break!" Mike whispered loudly, trying to keep the argument contained.

"She said she dumped your ass. That doesn't sound like a break," Will chimed in, crossing his arms.

"Thank you!" Wren agreed, smirking as he looked at Will.

"It wasn't! You guys do realize we can still hear everything you're saying, right?" Max's voice called from the bathroom, laced with amusement.

"Conspiring. I told you they're conspiring," Mike muttered under his breath, a frown deepening on his face.

"Oh my God," Wren groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

A knock at the basement door interrupted the tension. Mike whipped around, his eyes widening. "Not now, Mom!" he shouted, panic creeping into his voice.

Wren smacked Mike on the shoulder. "Sorry, Aunt Karen! Busy talking about nerd shit!" he yelled, trying to diffuse the situation with a laugh.

"Mike, Wren, open the door," Nancy's voice rang out, authoritative yet laced with concern.

Mike and Wren exchanged a glance, both aware that their secrets were about to spill out.

Nancy and Jonathan were now downstairs, their expressions serious as they began recounting the strange experience they had encountered with an elderly woman named Mrs. Driscoll. Nancy, clearly distressed, took the lead in explaining what had happened. "It was the same thing, the exact same thing that happened to Will last year. And look at this," she said, her voice laced with urgency as she tossed a clipboard onto the table.

Will leaned forward, his eyes scanning the numbers on the clipboard. The data revealed abnormally low body temperatures. Will's face paled as the realization hit him. "He likes it cold," he murmured, the words hanging heavily in the air.

Mike, still trying to wrap his head around the situation, spoke up. "Okay, so this crazy old woman who was eating fertilizer-" he began.

"Mrs. Driscoll," Nancy corrected him sharply, not wanting her to be dismissed so easily.

"Right, yeah, Mrs. Driscoll," Mike repeated, nodding quickly. "What time was this attack?"

"Last night," Nancy answered, her tone still tense.

"Right, but what time last night?" Mike pressed, wanting to piece together the timeline.

"Around nine," Nancy replied after a moment of thought.

Jonathan, who had been silent until now, turned to Nancy with disbelief. "You waited all night to call?" he asked, his voice rising slightly in frustration.

"I-I was waiting for the doctors to run some tests," Nancy said quietly, a hint of defensiveness in her voice as she looked away.

Will, who had been following the conversation closely, couldn't hide his shock. "You weren't there?" he asked his brother, his disbelief mirroring Jonathan's earlier question.

Jonathan's frustration bubbled over. "Well, I'm here now, aren't I?" he snapped, clearly irritated.

Nancy rolled her eyes, the tension between them palpable. "Hallelujah," she muttered sarcastically, crossing her arms.

Wren, sensing the undercurrent of unresolved tension between the couple, snickered. "Oh, I'm sensing some drama," he teased, though his comment did little to lighten the mood.

Nancy, trying to steer the conversation back to the matter at hand, turned her attention to the group. "Um, so, wha-what time was your... sauna test?" she asked, her mind working to connect the dots.

"Around nine," the teens said in unison, the realization hitting them all at once.

"Well, that proves it. That proves my theory," Nancy declared, her voice firm as she stood by her conclusion.

"She's flayed, just like Billy," Mike added, his expression grim as he referred to Mrs. Driscoll.

"Flayed?" Jonathan asked, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"The Mind Flayer," Mike explained. "He flays people. Takes over their mind. Once they do that, they basically become him."

Lucas, who had been quietly absorbing the conversation, spoke up, his voice trailing off as the gravity of the situation dawned on him. "If there are two flayed..."

"There is probably more," Wren finished, his voice tinged with realization.

"Heather," El said suddenly, drawing everyone's attention to her. Her eyes were wide with concern. "Billy was doing something to her. She was scared. She was screaming. Bad screams," she added, her tone sad as she recalled the disturbing memory.

"What's a good scream?" Wren asked, squinting in confusion at El's choice of words.

"Max said-" El began to explain, but Max quickly cut her off.

"Doesn't matter," Max interjected, shaking her head to dismiss the topic. The focus needed to stay on the pressing threat at hand.

Nancy, still trying to piece everything together, looked puzzled. "I'm sorry, I'm lost. Who is Heather?" she asked, needing more context.

"She's a lifeguard at the pool," Max explained, her tone serious.

"Heather Holloway?" Nancy questioned, her worry deepening when El nodded in confirmation. Nancy and Jonathan exchanged a look of growing concern, the implications of what they were uncovering sinking in.

"Tom," Jonathan and Nancy said in unison, the name spoken like a warning, as if they had just connected a crucial piece of the puzzle. The tension in the room grew thicker as they realized the danger might be spreading further than they had anticipated.

Nancy rang the doorbell at the Holloway house multiple times, her finger pressing the button impatiently, but there was no answer. The quiet street felt eerily still, and a sense of urgency hung in the air. She turned to Jonathan, who was standing beside her, his brow furrowed in concern. Eleven stood a few steps behind them, her expression unreadable, but a flicker of worry crossed her face.

"Should we knock again?" Jonathan suggested, glancing back at the front door.

Before Nancy could respond, Wren stepped forward, confidence radiating from him. "I got this, Jane," he said, his tone light but determined. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he knelt down by the door.

"What are you going to do?" Nancy asked, a mix of curiosity and skepticism in her voice.

"Just watch," Wren replied, producing a hairpin from his pocket. He expertly maneuvered it into the lock, his fingers working deftly as he concentrated on the task. The sound of metal clicking echoed softly, and after a few tense moments, the door creaked open, the lock finally yielding to his skill.

Wren stood up and bowed theatrically, a wide grin on his face. "Voila! The door is now open, ladies and gentlemen," he announced, his tone dripping with playful bravado.

El's eyes sparkled with admiration as she grinned at him. "That was amazing, Wren!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious.

Nancy rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. "Okay, okay, but let's be careful. We don't know who might be inside," she said, her protective instincts kicking in as she pushed the door open wider.

Wren stepped inside first, cautiously peering into the dimly lit hallway. The air inside felt stale, as if the house hadn't been lived in for some time. "Hello?" he called out, his voice echoing slightly in the empty space.

As they cautiously stepped into the house, Nancy called out, "Tom?" Her voice echoed in the eerie silence.

"Heather?" Wren called as well, his voice carrying down the hallway. He suddenly stopped in her tracks and turned to the others, a puzzled look on her face. "Do you guys smell that?" he asked, sniffing the air. It was a harsh, chemical odor, and their heads turned toward the kitchen, where the smell was even more intense.

The kitchen was a mess, the strong chemical odor making it hard to breathe. Max, trying to make sense of what they were seeing, asked, "Last year, Will didn't eat chemicals. Did you?" She looked over at Will, who was standing beside her.

Will shook his head. "No. This is something new," he stated, his voice steady but concerned.

Mike, always quick to make connections, brought up a memory. "Mr. Clarke, fifth grade. Posit. What happens when you mix chemicals together?"

Lucas and Will answered in unison, "You create a new substance."

Mike's eyes widened as he pieced it together. "What if they're making something?" he suggested, the idea chilling.

"In themselves? I mean, come on, if you drink this crap, it'll kill you," Max countered, disbelief evident in her tone.

"Yeah, but they're not human," Wren pointed out, her voice tinged with fear and realization.

They followed Nancy into the dining room, where the table was still set with food, as if someone had left in a hurry. Wren noticed a bottle placed haphazardly in the middle of the room and picked it up. "This is... interesting," he murmured, inspecting it before placing it back down.

Nancy knelt beside the table and pointed at a dark stain on the carpet. "Blood," she muttered, her voice low and tense.

A heavy silence fell over the room as everyone took in the implication of that single word. Then Nancy spoke again, her voice filled with realization. "Yesterday, Tom had a bandage on his forehead," she said, her mind racing to connect the dots. She grabbed the wine bottle Scarlett had just set down. "He was attacked," she concluded, her face pale.

Nancy's eyes were drawn to a section of the carpet near a bedroom door, where it seemed out of place. She moved toward it, and the others followed closely behind her. There was more blood on the door, and they cautiously entered a room that led out to the garage. They all stopped in their tracks when they saw a rope lying on the ground, its presence ominous.

"They must have tied them. They must have taken them somewhere," Jonathan said, his voice grim as he pieced together the scenario.

"Mrs. Driscoll," Nancy said, recalling the old woman's frantic words. "She kept saying... 'I have to go back.' What if the flaying, it's taking place somewhere else? There must be a place where all this started, right? A source."

El, her face pale with concern, nodded. "Somewhere he didn't want me or Scarlett to see," she added, her voice filled with dread.

"If we can find the source," Nancy continued, "then maybe we can stop him. Or at least stop it from spreading or doing whatever the hell he's doing with these chemicals."

Wren, still puzzled, asked, "How do we find it?"

Will, thoughtful as ever, offered a suggestion. "Mrs. Driscoll. If she wants to go back so badly, why don't we let her?" His voice was steady, but the implication of his words sent a chill through the group.

Nancy nodded in agreement, her mind already racing with a plan. The decision was made-Mrs. Driscoll would be their key to uncovering the source of the evil spreading through their town.

The hospital waiting room buzzed with tension as the group of teens sat in anxious silence. Nancy and Jonathan had stepped away to speak with Mrs. Driscoll, leaving the rest of them to occupy themselves with the dull hum of fluorescent lights and the occasional beep from medical equipment in the background. Wren shifted uncomfortably in his chair, glancing around at his friends, then his eyes landed on Mike, who was currently yelling at the vending machine, shaking it as if it had personally offended him.

"Come on, you stupid piece of junk!" Mike shouted, his frustration echoing through the sterile room. Suddenly, El snapped her head to the side, her focus honing in on the vending machine. Almost immediately, a cascade of candy bars and chips rained down from the machine like confetti at a celebration.

"Thanks," Mike said, surprised but grateful, as he bent down to retrieve the fallen goodies. However, as El leaned back, a trickle of blood ran down her nose from the effort of her telekinesis. Both Mike and Lucas turned their heads sharply at the sight.

"Are you okay, El?" Lucas asked, concern flooding his voice.

"I'm fine," El replied, wiping the blood away with her fingers before returning her gaze to the magazines scattered on the coffee table in front of her.

Wren sighed, feeling the weight of the moment. He stood up and walked over to Mike, shoving him to the side playfully. "Move, dude," he said with a smirk, reaching into the vending machine and grabbing a pack of M&Ms. Wren plopped down beside Eleven, a wide grin on his face. "Hey, Jane," he said, his voice warm and inviting.

Eleven blushed at the nickname, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. "Hi," she replied shyly, quickly averting her eyes.

"Do you like M&Ms?" Wren asked, holding up the pack enticingly.

Eleven's eyes lit up, and she shyly held out her hand. Wren dropped a few M&Ms into her palm, and she smiled at him, the sweetness of the candy reflecting in her bright eyes. "I love your new look, Jane. It's super cool," he said, genuinely admiring her fresh style.

"Thank you, Wren," Eleven said, her voice soft but filled with warmth. Wren couldn't help but beam at her, his heart fluttering at the simple moment of connection.

From afar, Mike was watching with narrowed eyes, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. "Oh, dude, she's stealing her from you. Props to him," Lucas quipped, glancing at Mike with a teasing grin.

Mike smacked Lucas's arm, irritation flaring. "Shut up," he muttered, his gaze fixed on Wren and El. He felt a familiar pang of jealousy as he watched El lean her head on Wren's shoulder, a gesture that felt far too intimate for his liking.

"Oh!" Lucas exclaimed, pretending to be shocked. "Here he goes, stealing another girl from me."

"Another?" Lucas echoed incredulously. "Fifth grade. Remember? Melina Cruz?"

Lucas nodded, remembering how Mike had been head over heels for Melina, only for her to end up with Wren.

As the air grew heavier with tension, the fluorescent lights above began to flicker erratically. Will suddenly stood up, his face pale, placing a hand protectively over his neck as if sensing something ominous in the atmosphere. "He's here," Will said, a shiver running down his spine.

Immediately, El stood up, her instincts kicking in. She reached out for Wren's hand, intertwining their fingers as if seeking strength in their connection. Wren squeezed her hand, feeling the surge of energy and urgency in the room. The group fell silent, eyes darting around the waiting area, prepared for whatever horror was about to unfold. They knew the stakes had risen, and together, they would face whatever darkness lay ahead.

ASH SPEAKS!

hoping to get this book done soon :)

PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!
COMMENT AND VOTE! IT HELPS US WRITERS STAY MOTIVATED:)