Stranger Things: 4

Chapter 1: The Agony of Loss

A young man with messy brown hair was scribbling away at a notepad suspended on a clipboard. All around him were tubes, anatomical scale models, and even what looked like human organs floating inside fluid tanks. He was sitting at a grey table, with only the soft glow of the electric lights to help him see.

Mechanical bodies also decorate the walls of the room, each in a unique state of disrepair. One resembles a rabbit, and another looks like an electric-blue, anthropomorphic chicken, but both are badly mangled and the lights that once lit their eyes barely even have a dim glow.

The man looked over his notes, though the handwriting was barely legible. His yellow eyes were dilated as he recounted his latest findings on his experiments. The notes are about an experiment involving a human heart that had been recovered from an unfortunate recent death. Though the unfortunate soul hadn't even died a noble death, her parts were in a salvageable state. The heart's blood vessels had been clogged by their previous owner, but using his lab's finer chemicals, he was able to purge the blocked cardiac valves.

An older man walked down the nearby stairwell, a cane in hand. The emblem of Britain adorns his coat. He briefly admired the laboratory, but immediately turned to face the young man. He gently patted the younger man's shoulder. "Are you any closer to the answers you are searching for?"

"No, sir. And with the deadline fast approaching, I might not have it in time. I lack a certain resource," he replied, still coldly focused on writing more notes. He had a flask suspended by a wire frame, with a red liquid filling half of the vial. After putting his left hand under the beaker, a blue flame formed in his palm, gently lapping at the base of the beaker.

"The deadline is merely a formality, Edmund, and you know that very well. What is really weighing on your mind?" the older man replied snidely. He looked down at his young protégé, and finally acknowledged the second chair beside him. He sat down beside him and smiled. He held a folder in his hands, a case file. He offered the folder to Edmund. "I was going to surprise you with this, but I think you need the encouragement right now."

Edmund briefly stopped his work, the flame now gone, with a look of slight disgruntle. But upon opening the folder, and briefly skimming the documents, it revealed a series of detailed forms for an adoption, all with stamps of official approval. Attached was a small picture of a young girl with jet-black hair. She clearly hated having her picture taken, based off the scared look on her face. His dull eyes lit up, as his eyelids relaxed, as his smile grew wider.

Eleven was very surprised by the idea of moving back to Hawkins, as even though her first friends were there, plus her boyfriend, it almost felt like a foreign land anytime she had visited her former home. But Hopper had been clear, that he wanted to return to where it all started. Joyce had agreed with him, but she had voiced her concern that he might try to reinstate himself on the police force despite his prosthetic leg. But Eleven wasn't concerned, not much anyway. After all, she was the family's protector now. No one she had met could match her ability.

Though she had yet to attain a true "hero" status in the world, her part in protecting the world from the enigma that is the Upside Down made her a well-known name among America's elite. The military had gone so far as to offer to draft her once she finished high school, but her parents declined immediately. Jane had no doubt that she would be incredibly useful in the military, but she didn't like the idea of being anyone's weapon.

But her most reoccurring thought, though it hid in the darkest corner of her mind, was the poignant possibility that Dr. Brenner was alive and well. If he was still alive, at least he hadn't come looking for her. And even if he did, he didn't have a chance against her now. But wouldn't he still be trying to use the Upside Down to build weapons for the American army? The Russians had, but that ultimately proved to be their undoing. Most of the Soviets were lucky to even be alive after they tampered with creatures they could never control. That's what they were, what she was too; they were something that could not be controlled. They were superior, smarter, and better than any human. At least, that's what Jane believed.

Packing took longer than expected, but that didn't bother Joyce. But what did concern her, was the thought of reliving the nightmare they had suffered through in that seemingly innocuous small town. She never forgot. She never stopped having those nightmares, where she was trapped in that hellish landscape of silence and smoke. She was struggling to breath, with her respirator failing. Will was ensnared in the tangled web of tentacles and organs, yet he was just up ahead of her. She could still save him! But she was too late; she always was. His body was a husk, eaten away by the tentacles and disgusting larva had made their home inside of his…

Joyce stopped, as she was startled by Will. He asked her what was wrong, as she was making that face again. He always seemed to know when she was reliving those traumatic memories. Probably because he had them too, if not worse than she did.

"Mom, relax. Those days are over," he said.

"You always say that, then something else goes wrong! You sound just like Hop," she growled, throwing her hands in the air.

Jane walked by the two arguing, completely ignoring them.

"Jane, would you please help me pack some of these?" Joyce asked her as she started towards the kitchen.

"Ugh," Jane rolled her eyes, and with the flick of a wrist, launched the clothes haphazardly into Joyce's suitcase. She rubbed her nose.

Joyce looked stunned. This hostility had gotten worse. Did she need to have a girls' talk with Jane? Joyce snapped back to reality when Will spoke to her.

"And Dad's right! Here, let me help you pack," Will attempted to assist Joyce. He started re-folding some of the now wrinkled shirts and socks.

Joyce sighed, "I guess we're gonna have to agree to disagree, but yes, please help me with this." She handed him a large stack of newspapers. "There's just something wrong going on, I feel that feeling I felt all those years ago. The stares I get at work…they're nothing like I remember." Joyce shook her head. It probably was nothing this time. But where had the other women at her office gone? One by one, they had been replaced by young men. She was one of the only women left at her workplace, and the men always reminded her of it.

Hopper never would have thought that walking would be one of the most difficult challenges he would face, yet here he was. He hated the prosthetic, and how unresponsive it was. He especially hated it when it would clamp up or fall off mid-walk. But he ultimately had no regrets, as he was happier than he had been in many years. Joyce had been incredibly patient with him, despite his handicap, and both Jonathan and Will had already begun to see him as family long before he officially joined theirs.

The only thing that bothered him more than his missing piece was another hole in his life. He was unemployed, and largely viewed as no one in the eyes of society. Honestly, he should have croaked, and on the official records, he had. That always brought out a wry smile over his face, but he still would glance longingly at his worn, tattered police chief uniform.

At least they were safe. At least she was safe. He groaned, his back pains rearing hell for him yet again. Was he even old enough for this yet? His muscles still tensed up, seemingly at random. Maybe he was flashing back to those days, but Hop was never sure. He just longed to relax, and so far daytime television and putting on a few pounds wasn't working. But he didn't dare wish for excitement, no matter how bored he felt. That would only bring trouble, and similar to an old, eh, "friend?" from Hawkins, Murphy's Law spared no one.

Another visit to the principal's office, but Eleven didn't care. She was midway through high school now, but she'd always had trouble fitting in at school. She stood out like a sore thumb, but not because of her powers. She knew better than to use them here.

"And she shows complete disrespect to all of our teachers, skips class regularly, and is often seen hanging out with the delinquents outside of school. Who knows what debauchery they get up to?" the school counselor complained.

"I understand, sir, and her father and I will have another talk with her. But you keep forgetting exactly what all she's been through. I'm sometimes still amazed she keeps smiling, with the hell she's endured her entire life," Joyce replied. She was sitting, cross-legged in the office.

This hardly placated the school counselor, "So you keep telling me, but with no official records to verify your claim, we've been forced to rely on your word alone. That's not good enough anymore." She sighed, "I know, it's the holidays. And I understand that you've been busy supporting both your crippled husband and three children. But, Christmas is no excuse for the levity evident in how your daughter's been raised."

This always infuriated Joyce, both the fact that she couldn't say a word about Jane and her backstory, or about the incredible gifts she possessed. But as angry as she was, Joyce did agree with the school faculty on one thing: Jane had grown noticeably more conceited. But why wouldn't she? Joyce thought to herself. Truthfully, Joyce feared Eleven; how could you discipline what you could never truly control? Jane may have protected them in the past, but she was growing up. And people often change as they mature.

That evening, Joyce cornered Hopper, which was admittedly easy. "Hop, we need to talk."

"It's about the kid, isn't it?"

Joyce nodded, and helped him sit down on their bed.

"I've been worried about her too. And if I'm being honest, I think it's my fault. I'm not a great dad, Joyce." Hopper groaned, laying back on the bed. He thought back to when it was just him, and Eleven. They would often fight, as she clearly wanted to contest his authority. He honestly hoped she would have mellowed by now, or that having both parents would even the balance of power.

"And I think it's my fault too. I've been coddling her too much ever since we thought we lost you for good back at Starcourt."

"Oh, yeah? Back when I was dead, huh?" Hopper's voice turned a bit more playful. He wrapped an arm around her. "But now it feels like we're losin' her, huh?"

Joyce's face crumpled up as she shook her head. "Yes and no. But she's not an innocent little girl anymore," she replied, slightly choking on the last few words.

Previously on Ninjago: Crazy Glue done got her innards scooped by the aubergine man. Everyone rdde on the tragic School Bus as it parachuted into World War II to explain to the kiddins what nuclear warfare was.

But tonight, on a very special Clone High: Dinkleberg outwits Abe in a battle of the simps, but to his dismay the only prize is that drama slut Cleo. Abe tries to do a rope trick, but let's just say he's more than a little tied up right now. Ghandi faces his greatest challenge yet: the critics. Mr. B and Scudworth finally go on a night of debauchery with old friend and special guest star, Dave Miller.

Back in the 1980's, secret government employees,

Dug up famous guys and ladies, and made amusing genetic copies

Now the clones are sexy teens now, they won't make it if they try!

Cuz' this school's not for weak links, most of them will prob'ly diiiiiiieeeee.

"Hoooly shaaaaaat Ghandi! You thought you're funny?" Markiplier screamed. His arms flailed around wildly, nearly knocking his recording setup across the room.

"Say whaaaaaaaaat? Check out this guy, Abe. Che, oh no." Ghandi was bleeding out, from seventeen gunshots in his chest. He somehow was still alive, but Ghandi knew he didn't have long.

"F*cking Dinklebergggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggggg!" abe pooped on cleo's grave he dug for her after he murdered her last night.

"Nice derriere, Lincoln!" Dinkleberg called out to him, with a friendly wave. He pushed Abe into the grave, breaking both of lincoln's legs.

But spoderman's web shoots out of the grave, and chokes dinky to death, the MORON.

Link threw a grenade into the grave, killing abe and Spoderman.

It's 3 AM, and all is quiet in the Hopper household. But someone was suffering, as her nightmare unfolds.

Eleven was frightened, her nights ever draining. For as she slept, IT was remaining.

A voice, a shadow, whose tone was not kind. Its only goal was to make Jane unwind.

He had long ears, like a rabbit no less. But this bunny was not funny,

Eleven had made up her mind.

Jane woke up, in a slight sweat. Jim was at the foot of her bed. She assumed it must have been bad if he had overheard her tossing in her sleep. But this wasn't the first time. But she desperately clung to the hope that this would be the last.

But it never was. He would come back. He always does. And Jane wasn't ready to face him.

"Why hello there, Old Sport."

"David! It's been forever! Look Mr. B, it's Dave!" Scudworth said in glee.

"How's it going, Leslie?"

"I'm good. Pretty good after surviving another day in my own personal hell. So, Sportsy, I've been working on a new plan. Let's just say this might be a once in a lifetime opportunity," Dave said.

"Oooh! I like once in a lifetime deals. What did you have in mind?" Scudworth shook his hands in excitement.

"Well, Old Sport, I've been working on a new plan. I call it: Aubergine man's handy-dandy 4-step plan. With it, I'm going to kill off the board of shadowy figures, forever. Those guys are a pain in my ass, Scudzy, so I think it's time to remind them just who they're dealin' with."