chapter eighteen:
❛ scary monsters ❜

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Steve's car rolled to a stop, the tires crunching against the gravel as the vehicle settled in front of the ominous Creel House. The towering structure loomed above them, its once-grand facade decayed with time, the wood rotting, paint peeling, and windows coated in grime that dulled the reflection of the overcast sky. The house seemed to breathe, a presence both oppressive and silent, as though holding its secrets close.

Wren was the first to move, the door creaking open as he stepped out onto the uneven ground. A damp chill lingered in the air, and the scent of moss and earth hung heavy. He turned back, extending his hand to Lucy, who hesitated for just a moment before taking it. Her smaller fingers curled tightly around his, knuckles pale as she clung to him. She pressed herself closer as her feet met the ground, her lips parting to whisper, "Don't let me go when we're in there. Please."

Her voice was soft, but desperate, and the vulnerability in her wide eyes made Wren's chest tighten. He nodded, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I won't. I promise."

They approached the warped, sagging steps leading up to the porch, each creak underfoot echoing louder than the last in the stillness. The house loomed larger now, the broken shutters dangling by rusted hinges and shadows shifting behind the boarded-up windows. The smell of mildew and old wood seemed stronger here.

Steve followed close behind, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, gaze sweeping over the house's eerie, gothic exterior. "Yeah...that's not creepy," he muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm as he squinted up at the weather-worn walls.

Lucy let out a sharp, involuntary shudder, pressing herself further against Wren, her breath hitching.

Wren's head snapped around, his face hardening into a glare as he shot Steve a look. "Steve, shut up," he gritted out, his voice low but sharp enough to cut through the tension. Steve raised his hands in surrender, muttering something under his breath, but backed off.

The front door was sealed shut, wooden planks nailed haphazardly across it in a clear attempt to keep people out-or perhaps something in. Nancy stepped forward, rolling up her sleeves, her brow furrowing with determination.

"Help me with this?" she asked, shooting Steve a look. He hesitated but nodded, stepping beside her. Together, they began working the nails loose, the rusty metal groaning as each board was pried free.

"What exactly are we supposed to be looking for in this shithole?" Steve asked, his voice tight with both sarcasm and genuine unease as he struggled with the last stubborn plank.

Nancy paused, brushing strands of hair from her face. "We're not sure. We just know this house is important to Vecna."

The mention of that name made Lucy stiffen, her grip on Wren tightening painfully. Her breathing hitched, and she swallowed hard, her gaze darting around as though the walls themselves could close in.

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Because Max saw it in Vecna's red soup mind world?"

Max, who had been eerily quiet, blinked as though shaking off a fog. She'd been staring at the house too long, eyes distant, haunted. Wren noticed immediately.

"Max?" he whispered, his voice softer now, worried.

She jolted slightly, blinking back into the present and turning to him.

Dustin, standing off to the side with his arms folded, chimed in, his voice laced with the urgency that had defined their entire fight against Vecna. "Look, we know this house is important. Maybe it holds a clue-where Vecna is, why he's back, why he killed the Creels. And how we stop him...before he comes back for Max."

Lucas shifted uncomfortably, his hands shoved deep into his pockets as his eyes swept the decayed surroundings. "We...we don't think he's in here, do we?"

Max squared her shoulders, her voice colder than before, hardened. "Guess we'll find out."

The words barely left her mouth when Lucy let out a soft gasp, shrinking further against Wren's chest as though the air itself was pressing down on her. She buried her face in his shirt, her voice trembling as she whispered, "I don't like this...please, can we leave?"

Wren gently wrapped his arm around her shoulders, holding her protectively. "Guys, please," he snapped, his voice rising just enough to cut through the rising tension. "You're scaring Lucy."

Dustin, clearly on edge himself, threw his hands up in exasperation. "Oh, sorry, we're scaring your girlfriend? She should be scared! This place is a nightmare factory, Wren. It's haunted. Literally!"

"Dustin!" Wren barked, his eyes narrowing in warning.

Before the argument could escalate further, Nancy gave a final tug and the last wooden board fell with a loud, echoing clatter. Everyone turned toward the now-exposed door, its chipped wood and brass handle rusted with age. The air felt colder.

Max stared at the door, unblinking, her breath catching slightly.

Steve, ever the reluctant hero, grabbed the handle and twisted. It didn't budge.

"Seriously?" he grumbled under his breath, giving it a harder shake.

Wren, without hesitation, released Lucy just long enough to grab a heavy rock from the overgrown path. Before anyone could stop him, he hurled it straight at the door. The glass in the top panel shattered instantly, the sound ringing out like a gunshot in the empty neighborhood. Shards clinked onto the floor inside.

Everyone stared.

Wren shrugged, smirking as he reached through the broken pane and twisted the lock from the inside with a click. "What? I have a past of breaking into people's houses, you know."

Lucy blinked up at him, her voice soft but incredulous. "You-wait...you went to juvie?"

Wren turned, winking with that same cocky smirk. "Never said I was a good kid."

The door groaned open, and a draft swept past them, carrying the scent of damp earth and mildew from within.

Lucy immediately clutched his arm again, holding on tighter than before as they stepped inside. Dust swirled in the narrow beam of Wren's flashlight as he clicked it on. The floorboards creaked with every hesitant step.

Lucas cleared his throat, trying to break the tension. "Looks like someone forgot to pay their electric bill."

"Ha ha, real funny," Wren muttered, voice dry, but he was cut off when Dustin flicked his own flashlight on and immediately shone it straight into Wren's eyes.

"Really?" Wren scowled, squinting as he turned his light into Dustin's face in retaliation.

The two began waving their beams back and forth at each other like dueling swords.

Steve blinked, visibly annoyed. "Okay, where did everyone get those? Am I the only one who didn't come prepared for ghost-hunting night?"

Dustin, without missing a beat, turned and scowled at him. "Do you need to be told everything?"

Steve blinked, looking genuinely offended.

"You're not a child," Dustin added, deadpan.

"Thank you," Steve muttered.

Dustin huffed, pulling off his backpack and tossing it toward Steve. "Back pocket. Flashlight. Try to keep up, Harrington."

Wren and Lucy had drifted slightly from the group, pausing in a doorway. The room was dark, colder than the hallway, and Lucy pressed against him tighter.

"Wren," she whispered, voice trembling. "Can-can we please wait outside? I-I'm getting the heeby-jeebies."

Wren was about to nod when Max's voice cut through.

"Hey, guys? You all see that, right?"

The beam of her flashlight was fixed on a grandfather clock, standing tall and silent in the corner.

Lucy squealed softly, burying her face against Wren's chest again.

Dustin groaned. "If she's gonna be like this, just take her outside, man. Wait in the car or something."

Wren shot him a glare, his protective instincts flaring. "Jeez, okay. What's up your ass, Dustin?"

Without waiting for a response, he gently led Lucy back toward the front door, leaving the others to face whatever was waiting inside.

The rain had started to drizzle by the time Wren and Lucy made it back to Steve's car, the thin droplets tapping rhythmically against the windshield. The sky was an oppressive gray, the kind that felt heavier than it should, casting a dim, murky light over the decaying house they had just retreated from. The Creel House still loomed in the background, its broken windows and rotting exterior barely visible through the fog settling over the town.

Inside the car, it was quiet except for the rain and the faint sound of Wren's knuckles drumming against the steering wheel. His other hand rested on the back of Lucy's seat, his thumb tracing absentminded circles on the worn leather. He kept his eyes ahead, watching the blurred outline of the house as though expecting something-or someone-to emerge at any second.

Lucy, however, wasn't looking at the house. She was curled up in the passenger seat, arms tucked around her knees, damp hair sticking slightly to her face as she stared at him. Not with fear anymore. No, that look had passed.

Now, her eyes were narrowed.

Wren could feel her gaze without even looking.

"...What?" he finally muttered, side-eyeing her with a raised brow.

Lucy blinked, then tilted her head, lips pursing as she spoke in an exaggeratedly casual tone. "Nothing. Just...thinking."

His brow furrowed. "Yeah? About what?"

Lucy shrugged, shifting so her sneakers scuffed against the dashboard, the kind of thing she knew would usually annoy him-but he didn't react. Not this time. Her lips twisted as she leaned back, voice turning more pointed. "About how you went all the way to California for, what was it, vacation? No, wait-" She snapped her fingers, feigning realization. "To see Jane."

Wren stiffened, his hand slipping from the steering wheel as he turned fully toward her. "What? No. It-it wasn't like that, okay? I went with my cousin. It wasn't-"

"Uh-huh." Lucy's voice dripped with sarcasm as she gave an exaggerated nod, her arms folding tightly across her chest. "Sure. Because people just drive states away to visit some random girl they have zero feelings for. Makes perfect sense, Wren."

His face scrunched, defensive but flustered. "She's not-ugh, you're twisting it! She's just...Jane's important. Not like that. I told you, my cousin needed to check on her and I was just tagging along for moral support."

Lucy raised a skeptical brow. "Ohhh, right. 'Moral support.' That why you looked all moody for a week after you came back? And don't even try to lie, you totally looked like you got your heart stomped on. It was like watching someone get dumped in a John Hughes movie."

Wren huffed, his jaw tightening as he dragged his hand down his face, avoiding her piercing stare. "I was not moody. And I didn't get my-whatever! You're being ridiculous."

Lucy squinted. "Am I? Because I'm starting to think you've got a whole California romance thing going on. Bet she was all mysterious too, huh? Long hair? Pretty eyes? Maybe some tragic backstory, all soft-spoken and broody?"

He blinked. "What the-no, Lucy, that's not even-"

She cut him off, voice growing more dramatic, her jealousy slipping into full-blown sarcasm now as she batted her lashes mockingly. "Oh, Wren, you're so brave! Please save me from the scary monsters!" She clutched her chest, voice dripping with fake distress before her expression shifted, frowning. "Do you like her or something?"

Wren's mouth opened, then closed. His face flushed, and he looked away, suddenly fascinated with the condensation gathering on the windshield.

"You're seriously not answering me right now?" Lucy gaped, jaw dropping.

Wren shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No, okay? No! I don't-God, why are you even-"

"Because you went across the damn country to see her, Wren!" Lucy interrupted, her voice cracking slightly despite the sarcasm. Her fists clenched in her lap, knuckles white. "I'm here. I'm right here! And you're running off to play hero for some girl who barely even knows you exist?!"

His head snapped back toward her, eyes wide. "That's not fair. You do know why I went. It wasn't like that, Lucy! And she-look, Jane's been through some messed up stuff. I was just trying to help-"

"Yeah, and I haven't?" Lucy's voice was suddenly raw, all the teasing gone, replaced with something more vulnerable. Her shoulders hunched as she looked down, her voice softer now but bitter. "I'm not some-some damsel either, Wren. I don't need you to run off saving other girls like you're in some cheesy comic book."

Wren blinked, guilt washing over his face as he finally understood where this was coming from. The teasing, the sarcasm-it wasn't just jealousy. It was fear.

"Lucy..." He shifted closer, his voice quieter now. "I'm not...I didn't go to California because I liked her, okay? I swear. I'm here. With you. I chose to be here. And I'm not leaving."

Her lips parted slightly, like she wanted to say something back but couldn't quite find the words. She just stared at him for a long moment, eyes searching his face as the rain blurred the world outside.

Finally, she whispered, "Promise?"

Wren nodded, his hand finding hers again, fingers lacing gently through hers in the dimness. "Promise."

They stayed like that, the rain tapping gently against the roof, the storm quieting. And for the first time since leaving the house, the tension began to fade. But Wren knew the unease wasn't fully gone-because as calm as Lucy seemed now, he could still feel her trembling just slightly against his hand.

ASH SPEAKS!!!

this is a shit chapter im so sorry :(
im gonna try to update this book a bit more since we're coming closer to the end... so close to s5! much closer to wren and el happening :)

PLEASE DONT BE A GHOST READER!!!
COMMENT AND VOTE! IT HELPS US WRITERS STAY MOTIVATED:) PLEASE JUST STOP BEING A GHOST READER!! ITS ANNOYING!! PLEASE COMMENT AND VOTE. ITS NOT THAT HARD!!! PLEASE! please stop being a ghost reader!!!! us writers work hard on these chapters

im so sorry for all the notifications but please stop being a ghost reader!!!! us writers work hard on these chapters. i know i ask this a lot, but i really don't like ghost readers because i work super hard on these chapters so when i see views going up bt votes not its hard for my motivation!