Stranger Things 2: A Novelization

by DaisyDaze111

This is the sequel novelization of Stranger Things. I do not own the characters, settings or plot lines. Once again, the dialogue and plots will all be the same, but I have added inner thought and descriptions to enhance the story. I tried to remain true to the character development and traits the Duffer Brothers created. Hope you enjoy!

3. Chapter 2 - Trick or Treat, Freak

Chapter Two - Trick or Treat, Freak

"Goodbye, Mike."

It was the last thing Eleven remembered saying before turning to face the screeching monster. It was Mike she thought of as she tore it to shreds, forcing her mind beyond limits she did not even know she had. Even when her vision had begun to fade and she felt herself slipping from the world she thought of Mike. And it was Mike's face in her mind when the world went black.

Eleven woke with a sputtering cough, and she choked, tasting vomit. With blood trailing from her ears and nose, she struggled to stand. She glanced up at the chalkboard where the Demogorgon had been pinned by her power, but there was no monster. There were however hideous vines covering the surface. Looking around Eleven saw that she was still in the classroom but it was dark and cold with vines and flurries in every direction.

Eleven felt wobbly on her feet and she had trouble understanding her surroundings. She tottered out into the hall. Reaching a corner she leaned against it, worn out by the short distance she had walked, her body aching and sore. She glanced to her right and spotted a set of double doors.

"Mike?" she called.

There was no answer, so she turned left and began walking down the hall. As she did her mind began to clear and she began to make sense of what she was seeing. Everything here was lifeless. It was deadly quiet, though it felt as if something was breathing all around her. This place terrified her and the features of her face were taken over by fear.

She called out again, "Mike? Mike? Mike! Mike!"

Her breaths began to chase each other in a panicked pant and her calls became desperate screams. Despite her exhaustion she picked up her pace, half-walking, half-jogging through the halls in search for Mike or Lucas or Dustin or anyone else alive in this dead place. She darted around a corner and called for Mike again in hope, but there was no one.

Whimpering, frightened and worn down she stood alone in the Upside Down unsure of what more she could do. Suddenly, she heard what sounded like voices behind her and she slowly turned toward them, but she saw no one. However, far from her at the other end of the hall she glimpsed something bright and glowing. Gradually, she neared the phenomenon and saw that it was a breach of some kind, with threads of dead material still holding it together. It had a red glow about it and it was made of a translucent membrane.

Eleven bent close to examine it, trying to see through to the other side. She saw movement and she realized there were men with flashlights moving about. Suddenly, one of the men's silhouettes crouched low to peer through the opposing side of the membrane. Eleven quickly darted to the side, hiding herself. She listened as a man's voice transmitted over a radio.

"Bravo team, check in."

Someone blurted back an indistinct response and a few seconds later Eleven heard their voices retreating. She turned back to what she now realized was an opening to the other world. Her world. She reached forward to touch the glowing membrane and found that it was wet and moldable. She pushed at the membrane and it stretched out like slimy rubber until eventually, her fingers broke through the barrier so that Eleven's hand touched warm air.

She pulled her hand back and peered at the wet, slimy and cold substance that now coated her skin. Glaring back at the portal she stepped back, wiping the slime away from her hand on the overly large shirt Hopper had given her to wear over her dirty pink dress. She raised that same arm in front of her as if reaching for the portal. Drawing on her diminished energy she thought of Mike and her desire to see him again. Her brain pulsed with power and she focused on the wall around the portal forcing it to crumble away like dried breadcrumbs increasing the size of the opening.

Once it was large enough for her to fit through she pushed through the membrane with both hands. It was not as easy as she thought with the membrane resisting her but eventually her head and shoulders came through and she slipped and stumbled until finally she landed back in her world, covered from head to toe in the substance. She glanced up and down the bright, warm hall for signs of the men she had heard earlier. She saw no one, but she noticed there were still streaks of blood along the floor. Knowing they would be back to erase the evidence of what had happened here she climbed to her feet and tottered out of the school, careful not to call for Mike in case the men were still in hearing range.

After leaving the school Eleven quickly made her way back to the hill behind Mike's house, using the power lines as a guide. She trudged through the grass, glad for the night that concealed her. However, as Mike's house came into view she saw that several vehicles with flashing blue lights were parked before it, and she knew it was not safe to go inside. Carefully, she made her way down the hill for a closer look.

Inside her home, Karen peered distraught at the men going through their belongings as she asked, "What about the Russians? What if they come looking for her?"

"They don't know where she is," a woman told her.

"And she can't contact you without us knowing," replied the man.

Karen glanced at the agent busy taking their phone apart in order to insert monitoring devices as another agent was telling her husband, "The most important thing is for you to try to go on with your lives...and to keep all of this-"

"Top secret," Ted finished giving him a salute. "Yeah. Understood. We're all patriots in this house."

In the foyer, a woman sat in a chair beside Mike and said in a matronly voice, "Let's go back to the beginning."

"I told you everything," Mike told her in aggravation.

"I understand this is difficult, Michael," said a male agent looking down into his face from where he stood over him.

Mike looked up and glared in his eyes. "I don't know where she is. And even if I did, I'd never tell you. I would never tell you."

Outside, Eleven stared through the window and watched as the woman sitting beside Mike leaned to him and said, "I know it's difficult to accept. The stories she told you were not true. She's a very dangerous individual."

"If she contacts you, you must tell us," the man told him.

"Otherwise, you're putting yourself and your entire family at risk," the woman finished.

As she spoke Mike glanced up at the window across from him with the feeling that he was being watched. He squinted his eyes, trying to see past the reflection of himself and the agents against the black backdrop of the night outside. Was that Eleven he saw staring back at him? Or just his imagination? Looking back at him, Eleven cried silently realizing she could not go back to Mike. It was too dangerous for her and for him. They would never stop looking.

"Do you understand, Michael? Do you understand?" the woman asked.

"Michael? Michael?" the man asked when he realized the child's focus was gone. He too turned to peer at the window to see what Mike was so fixated on.

From the back door of the Wheeler home agents poured out with flashlights as one ordered the others, "Fan out! Somebody check the left side, I'll check the right side."

They scoured the field behind the Wheeler's house and before long they had agents combing the dark wood, and a helicopter searching the grounds from the sky for any sign of a fleeing child. Crouched low under a large, fallen tree Eleven held her knees closely to her chest. Tear tracks glistened over her cheeks as she hid, shivering and scared, from the agents searching for her.

---

A bright, autumn morning showed Hopper's cabin sitting serene and still deep in the woods. Inside, Hopper made french toast on the stovetop quite peacefully. Hopper turned to place the toast on two waiting plates and his heart nearly leapt out of his chest as he noticed a white figure with large black eyes staring up at him.

"Oh, Jesus!" he exclaimed, but after a split-second assessment he realized it was only Eleven wearing a sheet over her head with two small holes cut out for her eyes.

"Ghost," she told him.

"Yeah, I see that," he nodded, taking the pan off the stove and pacing over to the counter behind her to place a toast on each of their plates.

"Halloween," she said.

"Sure is," he said absently. "But right now it's breakfast, okay? Come on, let's eat."

"They wouldn't see me," she continued, still wearing her sheet. Hopper glanced at her then back to the food which he gathered up to take to the dining table.

"Who wouldn't see you?" he asked as he stepped around her.

"The bad men."

"What are you talking about?"

"Trick-or-treat."

She stood before him waiting hopefully as he sat in his seat at the table and peered up at her. He asked incredulously, "You want to go trick-or-treating?"

Her head nodded under the sheet. With a dark expression he shook his head and got up. "You know the rules."

"Yes, but-" Hopper took her by the shoulders and began to escort her to her seat.

"Yeah, so you know the answer," Hopper interrupted.

"No, but they wouldn't see me," she protested.

"No. Hey. I don't care."

"But they wouldn't see me."

"I don't care, all right?" He leaned down to peer through the holes in the sheet at her eyes. "You go out there, ghost or not, it's a risk. We don't take risks, all right? They're stupid. And…"

"We're not stupid!" Eleven spat vehemently.

"Exactly. Now, you take that off, sit down and eat. Your food's getting cold," he told her forcefully. He sat back down as Eleven finally removed the sheet, looking sulky and upset.

She threw herself into her chair with a grumpy expression and Hopper poured maple syrup onto her plate then his. He sighed, feeling guilty.

"All right, look…" he tried negotiating. "How 'bout I get off work early tonight, and I buy us a bunch of candy, and we can sit around and get fat, and we watch a scary movie together? How's that for compromise?"

"Co-compromise?"

He leaned down, staring directly at her. "'C', 'O', 'M', 'promise'. 'Compromise'. How about that's your word for the day? Yeah? It's something that's kinda in-between. It's like half-way happy."

"By 'five' 'one' 'five'?" she asked.

Hopper nodded, "Five-fifteen. Yeah, sure."

"Promise?"

Hopper leaned down again and looking into her eyes, he said, "Yes. I promise."

Eleven gave a sad shrug and replied, "Half-way happy."

She picked up her fork and began to eat. With a smirk Hopper reached over to gently jostle her head. She grinned in spite of herself and he smiled happily back. As he went back to cutting his toast she reached forward to add more syrup to her plate, and she and the Hawkins' chief enjoyed their quiet breakfast together as they had been for nearly a year.

---

Joyce walked down the hall to her son's bedroom and clapped her hands as she called, "Will? Come on, honey, up and at 'em."

She pushed past the door and entered his room to find the bed deserted and no one in sight. She spun around the room calling in concern, "Will?"

But there was no one.

"Jonathan?" she said as she rushed back into the kitchen where he was making breakfast as he always did.

"Yeah," he called back.

"Where's Will?"

"What?" Jonathan asked as he looked back at her blankly.

"Where's Will?" she repeated urgently but with an air of trying to stay calm.

Jonathan felt a cold chill sweep through him and he felt frozen in place. "What he's not in his room?"

"No," Joyce shook her head as panic and an overwhelming sense of deja vu washed over her.

"Uh…" Jonathan too tried to remain calm but suddenly they heard a clatter back down the hall. Joyce turned and ran to the bathroom from where it came and she burst through the door.

"Will?"

Will stared wide-eyed back at her, his hand frozen midway in reaching for the toilet.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

"Peeing," he gestured at the toilet.

Joyce gave a small nod and chuckled in embarrassment before she backed out of the bathroom. Will flushed the toilet as she closed the door able to breathe again.

After breakfast, Joyce helped Will into his Ghostbuster's costume. She zipped up the front of the beige jumpsuit then reached out and grabbed a makeshift proton pack.

"Okay. Let's get this...on," she said as she held it up and he slid his arms through the straps. Examining the costume she spotted one of the wires dangling free on the pack. "Oh. You need some tape, hold on."

She paced over to his desk to pull some tape from a dispenser. Her eyes roved over the drawings on his desk and she noticed one much less colorful than the others as he had used almost entirely black on the sketch. Knowing this was out of character for him she pulled it out to examine the drawing. It was a drawing of the view in front of their house, of the powerlines and trees, but beyond the powerlines Will had drawn a strange looking spider-like creature hovering beneath a canopy of dark, stormy clouds. She did not know what else to compare it to, having never seen anything like it. And amid the black features of the sketch, he had drawn lightning around the creature, but it was red rather than blue. It was a frightening sketch, and very unlike Will to draw.

Turning to face him she held up the drawing and asked, "What's this?"

He paused from trying to tighten the straps on his shoulders and a scared expression crossed his face.

"Uh, nothing," he replied, fiddling with the straps in his hands.

"Did you have another episode?" she asked gently.

"No, it's just um...a sketch for a story I'm writing."

Joyce nodded feeling he was being less than truthful, but she decided not to press him and so she sighed, "All right."

"Three, two, one…" Jonathan counted moments later before snapping a photo of Will smiling wide in his costume with two thumbs up. "Great. Hold up the proton blaster."

Will reached around and pulled out his makeshift blaster and Jonathan snapped another photo thriving in full photographer mode.

"All right, now turn to the light," he instructed Will, who made the pose enthusiastically as Joyce smiled proudly.

"Oh! Let me see those pearls! Yeah!" Mrs. Henderson exclaimed excitedly as she too snapped pictures of Dustin grinning toothily at the camera holding up his proton blaster in a nearly identical Ghostbuster's costume.

Mews the cat meowed at the pair of them as Mrs. Henderson sang, "'Who you gonna call?'"

She scatted out a beat from the Ghostbuster's theme song, then laughed as Dustin held up his proton box and she snapped another photo as she exclaimed again, "Oh!"

Lucas smirked as he posed pointing toward his back with his proton pack displayed for the picture his mother took of him.

"Adorable, baby. Just adorable!" she encouraged him.

Lucas' sister, Erica, watched with raised eyebrows as he struck another pose in which his arm was raised in a muscled man pose.

She shook her head. "God. You are such a nerd."

Lucas now holding up his proton blaster gave his sister a dark look. "Shut up."

"No wonder you only hang out with boys."

Lucas dropped his arms in annoyance as their mother growled at her, "Erica!"

"Just the facts," she replied.

Mrs. Sinclair shook her head in disapproval but went back to snapping photos of her son as Erica mouthed the word 'nerd' for Lucas to see clearly.

"Oh my God, I love this costume. Keep it up," Mrs. Sinclair told Lucas and he raised his proton blaster with a smile.

"All right that's the last one," Mike said.

Pulling out the Polaroid print she had just taken Karen said, "No, just one more. Come on. Please?"

She snapped a photo of a grimacing Mike as she exclaimed in adoration.

"Can I go to school?" he griped.

"Wait, wait, wait," she held up the camera again to take yet another photo. "Okay say, 'Who you gonna call?'"

"No!" Mike refused as the camera flashed again.

Finally, arriving at school on their bikes Mike, Lucas and Dustin sang out, "'Who you gonna call?'"

"'Ghostbusters!'" Will shouted enthusiastically from behind them.

"Hey Spengler!" Mike greeted him.

"Egon! Yeah!" Lucas declared.

"Venkman!" Will proclaimed catching sight of Lucas' name tag as he hugged him.

Mike frowned at Lucas' name tag as well. "Whoa! Whoa!"

"What?" Lucas asked, despite already knowing what he was going to say.

"Why are you Venkman?"

"Because I'm Venkman," Lucas told him matter-of-factly.

Mike protested, "No I'm Venkman."

"Why can't there just be two Venkmans?" Will reasoned with a shrug.

"Because there's only one Venkman in real life. We planned this months ago," Mike complained. He pointed to himself and then each of them in turn as he said, "I'm Venkman, Dustin's Stanz, you're Egon, and you're Winston."

"I specifically didn't agree to Winston," Lucas stated.

"Yes, you did!" Mike disagreed.

"I don't think he did," Will pointed out fairly.

"No one wants to be Winston, man," Lucas said and Dustin shook his head in disgusted agreement with Lucas.

"What's wrong with Winston?" asked Mike.

"'What's wrong with Winston?'" Lucas repeated sarcastically. "He joined the team super late, he's not funny, and he's not even a scientist."

"Yeah, but he's still cool."

"If he's cool, then you be Winston."

"Wh- I can't!" Mike answered in panic.

"Why not?" asked Lucas with his hands on his hips in a posture very reminiscent of his mother.

"B-because…" stuttered Mike as he cast around for an excuse.

Mocking his stutter, Lucas answered for him. "B-b-b-because you're not black."

"I didn't say that!" Mike yelled, his face flushing.

"You thought it," accused Lucas.

Distracted from their argument Dustin turned to stare at the school yard behind him, and he began to notice the horrifying picture before him.

"I didn't say that!" Mike was denying.

"Mike!" yelled Lucas.

"Guys...guys! Guys!" Dustin shouted over at them.

Mike, Lucas and Will glanced up at Dustin who was watching the students climb off buses, amble in from the parking lots, and chatting with their friends before the start of school.

"Why is no one else wearing costumes?" he asked.

They stared in horror at the students all dressed in normal street clothes, not a single other person dressed up for Halloween.

"Crap," said Lucas.

Moments later they walked down the school hall with students gaping and laughing at them.

"Oh my God!" declared a student jubilantly.

"When do people make these decisions?" asked Dustin.

"Everyone dressed up last year," Will reminded them.

"It's a conspiracy, I'm telling you," Dustin declared.

"Just be cool," Mike ordered.

As a boy passed he called out, "'Who you gonna call?' The nerds!"

At their lockers Dustin and Lucas turned when they heard a clatter down the hall. They looked up to see Max riding her skateboard down the center of the hall. They watched as she passed them and rode straight to her locker where she hopped off and opened it to retrieve her things.

"We gonna do this?" Dustin asked with a nod.

"Not right now. We look like morons," Lucas pointed out.

"Maybe she likes Ghostbusters?" Dustin wondered hopefully.

"Of course she likes Ghostbusters, but that's not the point," Lucas said. "The point is we're dressed up and she isn't."

"But I didn't bring regular clothes, did you?"

"No."

"Then we have no choice. We gotta do this," Dustin said bravely. "It's now or never."

Lucas pumped up his shoulders, breathing in through his nose. "Right."

"Let's engage," Dustin leaned forward as if about to make his move but froze waiting for Lucas to make the first move.

However, as Max closed her locker and took off down the hall away from them, they both still remained frozen.

Dustin straightened up. "We could ask her after class."

"Yup," Lucas gasped as he released his breath. He turned on the spot to face his locker, his sneakers squeaking on the polished floor.

"Okay," agreed Dustin. They both slammed their locker doors closed and headed to class.

---

Hopper held up the dark sketch Joyce had shown him, then lowered it to peer at the landscape in front of her house.

"See? It's an exact match," Joyce said. Hopper held it up again, comparing the sketch with reality.

Inside the house, Hopper lit his cigarette while Joyce asked from across the dining table, "But...why would he lie to me?"

Hopper inhaled deeply. "Cause he's a kid, Joyce."

"I mean, you heard him describe these episodes," she pressed. "It's not like he's describing a nightmare. He talks about them like they're real."

"Yeah, because they're not nightmares, they're flashbacks. I know a couple guys who have had these things, and it feels like you're there, like it's happening."

Joyce grabbed the drawing and asked, "Then, what the hell is this?"

"Owens said it would get worse."

"That place…" she sighed in frustration, wishing she could throttle the entire Upside Down.

"What do you wanna do? You wanna take him back to Chicago?" Hopper stood and walked around the side of the table to sit in the chair directly beside Joyce.

"Well, th-there's that guy in Boston that's supposed to be-"

Hopper groaned. "They're all a bunch of quacks. And they'll all just tell you the same thing, just cost you more money."

He paused thinking about what Dr. Owens had said about the flashbacks and then he thought about Eleven and her sudden impatience and desire to leave the cabin.

"I think he's right...about trauma," Hopper said slowly. "And he's right we're coming up on a year, you know. I think everybody's on edge. Me, you...Will most of all. I think we just gotta get through the next few weeks."

They both sighed tiredly. This year had been long and hard on both of them.

"Nothings gonna go back to the way that it was," Hopper continued. "Not really. But it'll get better. In time."

Wearily, Joyce grabbed her purse to rummage for a cigarette. Knowing what she wanted Hopper offered her his.

"Here."

"Thank you," she said, taking it gratefully. She took a quick drag, then erupted into a fit of coughing and choking. Hopper smirked in amusement. "Jesus! Hopper…"

"Brings me back to old times," he said reminiscently.

"What?" Joyce croaked.

"Well, sharing my cigarettes between…"

"Fifth and sixth period," she finished.

Hopper's mouth stretched into a wide smile. "Yeah, under the steps. Mr. Cooper caught us that time, remember? He was like," (Hopper adopted a gruff voice) "'Hey, assholes'."

"We ran. We just ran," Joyce laughed at the memory.

Hopper's eyes met hers and her smile slipped from her face as she thought of the turns their lives had taken, both before and after the Upside Down. Now, she wished she could somehow take her boys and run, just run far away.

Shaking her head she looked back up at Hopper. "God, I want this to be over."

"I know," he told her.

They sat quietly at Joyce's kitchen table smoking their cigarettes and thinking about all the ways their lives had been turned inside out.

---

A man wearing a trench coat casually made his way from the parking lot of Hawkins Lab into the building. In the sublevels of the lab a scientist prepared himself for entry into the Upside Down, donning a full hazmat suit complete with breathing apparatus. Once ready he entered the isolated atmosphere with a case full of technical tools. The man did not hesitate or pause to rethink his actions before pushing through the membrane as though he had done so many times before. On his person he carried a body camera which recorded his trip into the dimension. It crackled with static interference, but continued to monitor his work.

Speaking into a microphone from the safety of the control room, Dr. Sam Owens asked the man, "How's it looking out there, cowboy?"

Owens was watching the TV monitor feed which showed the images transmitted by the body camera. They could all see the mirror version of their world.

"Uh, you know doc. The usual. Nice and nasty with a chance of radioactivity," the hazmat scientist responded nonchalantly.

Those in the control lab watched as the agent walked up to a set of equipment staged months ago. He opened a panel on the control board.

"Oh yeah, it's barbecued all right. Anyone hungry?" the agent said as he pulled out a large battery which was burnt to a crisp.

The technician beside Owens, who had alerted him when the alarms were set off, stood watching the feed in fascination while he ate a bag of candy. The agent inside the Upside Down replaced the battery pack and the lights in the control room stopped blinking.

"And...we're back on."

The technicians all cheered and clapped at the agent's success and Owens grinned, but he continued to watch the monitor closely as the man began to make his way back to their world. Owens' fist squeezed the stress ball in his hand and he wondered what had caused the sudden destruction of the battery pack which was supposed to have had a much longer lifespan.

After the safe return of his agent, Owens went to the security room to rewatch his interview with Will.

"There was this storm," said Will on the tape.

Owens tapped his fingers anxiously as he scrutinized every detail on the recording.

"Okay. So how did you feel when you saw the storm?" he heard himself ask.

"I felt frozen."

"Actually frozen? Cold?"

"No, like - like uh, like how you feel when you're scared, and you can't breathe or talk or do anything. I felt...I felt this evil-"

Owens turned the monitor off, his fist still clenched around the blue ball, thinking.

---

Nancy erased part of the equation she had written on her math homework as she sat beside Steve in the school library. After brushing away the flecks from her eraser she turned her pencil over to correct the error. As she scribbled the problem on the paper she pressed too hard on the page so that the tip of her pencil broke with a snap. She gave an inward sigh, got up from her seat, and walked to the pencil sharpener located by the window sill, Steve glancing over as she did.

She inserted the pencil into the sharpener then cranked the handle. While she waited for the device to shave through the pencil and create a new tip she peered around the library at the other students. That's when she spotted a girl searching through the bookshelves. The girl was tall and heavyset, wearing a plaid shirt tucked into a pair of high-waist jeans. Her hair was ginger and done up in an elegant bun at the nape of her neck.

As if echoing from the past Nancy heard Barb's voice telling her, "Nancy, this isn't you."

"Barb, just go ahead and go home, okay?" she had told her.

Staring blankly at the girl's back she could not help wondering if it was somehow Barb, returned from the Upside Down. Maybe it had never happened. Maybe it was all a dream.

Like a dream she heard Barb screaming in desperation and panic. "Nancy? Nancy!"

"Nancy."

Steve grabbed her shoulder, breaking through her thoughts, and turning her toward him. She gave him a startled look and he frowned at her.

"What's going on?" he asked. "Are you okay?"

Nancy glanced back to look at the girl by the shelves, just as she turned around. Despite her hair, build and clothing, she looked nothing like Barbara Holland. Steve turned to see what she was looking at as well.

In a study room, off the side of the library, Nancy told Steve, "I can't keep doing this."

"Doing what?"

"Pretending that everything's okay."

"What are you talking about?"

"Barbara," she said in frustration, her voice breaking. "It's like everyone forgot. It's like nobody cares. Except her parents. And now they're selling their house."

"Nance-"

"And they're going to spend the rest of their lives looking for her," Nancy continued, crying.

"I know. I know," Steve said consolingly.

"It's destroying them," she whispered in an agonized voice.

"I know. I know. Okay? I get it," Steve said, then looking around uncomfortably he added, "But listen, there's nothing we can do about it."

A stubborn look came over Nancy's face. "Yeah, we could tell them the truth."

Steve looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

"Well, you know that we can't do that," he told her sharply.

"We don't have to tell them everything," she muttered.

"No, this isn't some game, Nance. If they found out that we told any…" He paused, nervously aware of the raised volume of his voice. Strolling over to the room's window, he shut the blinds then paced back over to Nancy and continued in a low voice. "They could put us in jail. Okay? Or worse, they could destroy our families. They could do anything they want? Okay, just think about what you're saying."

Nancy's head dropped in disappointment and grief. Tears began to well up in her eyes and Steve's expression softened.

"Hey…" he sat on the table beside them and rubbed her arms. "Hey, hey...hey. It's…"

Steve sighed, trying to think of the right words, then continued gently, "It's hard, but let's...let's just go to Tina's stupid party, wear our stupid costumes, that we've been working on for a stupid amount of time, and just pretend, like we're stupid teenagers, okay? Can we just do that, just for tonight?"

Nancy peered up at him unhappily then murmured, "Okay."

"Come here," he pulled her into a hug which she returned, sighing as she rested her head on his shoulder and tightened her arms around him.

---

The class bell rang at Hawkins' Middle School and students spilled out into the hall. Max returned to her locker, opening it to put away her first period books. Beside her she heard a throat clear and she looked over to see Dustin and Lucas smiling at her.

"Um. Hi Max," greeted Dustin. "I'm Dustin and t-this is…"

"Lucas," Lucas introduced himself with a grin.

"Yeah, I know," Max said, unsmiling. "The stalkers."

The boys' smiles vanished from their faces and they stuttered in protest.

"Uh, n-n-no. Actually...we weren't stalking you," denied Lucas.

"No, we-we-we were just concerned because, you know, you're new and all," invented Dustin.

"Y-y-yeah, for your safety," Lucas confirmed.

"Mmm-hmm. There are a lot of bullies here," Dustin capitalized on their excuse.

"So many bullies, i-i-it's crazy," said Lucas with a wild gesture.

"Yeah," nodded Dustin.

Max looked him up and down and asked in amusement, "Is that why you're wearing proton packs?"

"Well, these don't function, but…" Dustin excitedly reached around to de-tangle the remote control to his ghost trap. "I do have this handy-dandy little trap here. A-and look, it even opens and closes. Look, look, look…"

He used the controller to activate the mechanism that caused the small trap doors to swing open.

"Voila!" he grinned widely as Lucas held out his hands as if presenting the contraption as a marvelous game show prize.

Max merely stared between the two, unimpressed. Dustin read her expression and quickly lowered the trap as he continued on with their plan.

"No? Okay. but, um...so w-we were talking last night, and you're new here, so you probably don't have any friends to take you trick-or-treating, and you're scared of bullies so uh, we were thinking that it would be okay if you come with us."

Lucas smiled in approval as Max repeated pompously, ""It'd be okay?'"

"Yeah!" Dustin affirmed enthusiastically. "Our party's a democracy and the majority voted you could come."

"I didn't realize it was such an honor to go trick-or-treating with you," stated Max.

"Yeah, I mean we know where to get the full-sized candy bars," Dustin went on unaware of her sarcasm. He whispered conspiratorially, "We figured you'd want in."

Max squinted at him. "That's presumptuous of you."

Dustin paused, unfamiliar with the word.

"Yeah. Totally. Uh, so um...you'll come?" he asked, not noticing the strange look Lucas gave him. Max rolled her eyes, closed her locker, and strolled away.

"We're meeting at the Maple Street cul-de-sac at seven," he called after her. Cupping his hand around his mouth to enhance the volume of his voice he yelled, "That's seven on the dot!"

"'Presumptuous'," Dustin repeated in a low, satisfied voice. He looked at Lucas. "That's a good thing, right?"

Lucas gave him another funny look, then with a sigh, he turned and walked away.

"Is it bad?" Dustin asked nervously. Lucas continued to stroll away and Dustin chased after him. "Lucas, is it bad? Lucas? Son of a bitch, Lucas. Is it bad?"

---

A chau gong rang out a loud musical note as it was hit with a huge mallet on the small television screen in Hopper's cabin.

A woman appeared and spoke in a sultry voice, "How does it feel? Like pouring pure silk onto my skin."

From her position on the couch across from the TV Eleven twitched her head and the knob on the switchboard rotated, changing the channel. A tall, muscular man replaced the woman. He wore dark sunglasses, a black leather jacket and was carrying a large gun.

A man said in voice-over, "Inhuman. Relentless."

The looming man on the screen kicked open a door and then suddenly there was an explosion.

"Arnold Schwarzenegger is The Term-"

The voice-over ended abruptly as Eleven twitched her head again and the channel changed so that a woman with short hair appeared.

"Well, I'm stunned," she was saying. "I don't know what to think."

Seeing a woman with hair short like hers rather than worn long down her back intrigued Eleven and she settled more comfortably on the couch.

"Don't you love me?" asked a man as he watched her closely.

"Of course I love you," the woman answered but she turned and paced away. "It's just that it's so sudden. I mean, it's not like you."

The man went to stand close beside her. "Erica, I am this way because of you."

"Me?" Erica repeated in dramatic surprise.

"Me?" Eleven copied in the same tone.

The man leaned down and kissed the woman's neck. "Mmm-hmm. You have made me wild and impetuous just like you."

"Impetuous," Eleven said, liking the sound of the word though she had no clue what it meant.

"People are going to be aghast," said Erica in her high voice.

Eleven mimicked her, "People are going to be aghast."

The man laughed. "They're going to love it."

Soon the woman was laughing too, though Eleven did not understand why. Suddenly, a chittering erupted from behind her and she spun around startled.

"I mean, it's gonna stun the whole town. The whole world!" Erica exclaimed but Eleven was no longer listening as she got up to walk over to the window.

"Erica, tell me that you will marry me, in this house, tonight…" the man asked.

El raised the blind to peer out of the window and she saw a squirrel chittering away on a bird feeder. It looked straight back at her.

---

Deep in the woods a squirrel climbed up onto a small log of wood lying on the frozen, snow-covered ground. It peered around at the trees when suddenly a force flung the small creature through the air so that it flew with a frightful squeal before hitting the trunk of a tree with a fatal thud. It's lifeless body dropped to the snow at the base of the tree, twitching.

From several feet away, Eleven, wearing her tattered dress and overlarge plaid shirt, shuffled through the snow toward the dead rodent. A trickle of blood flowed from her nose and her previously shaved head was now covered with short dark bristles. She picked up the squirrel by its tail and peered at it. A feeling of remorse for killing it so violently pulsed through her and she sighed. However, hunger overtook her and before long she was roasting the remains over a fire, having used her powers to ignite it.

She was turning the stick, which impaled the meat, over the flames patiently, when she heard twigs snapping underfoot. She spun around to see a man staring at her from a few yards away. He was holding a rifle at his side, the barrel pointed at the ground. A hunter. He spoke to her in a gentle, slow voice.

"Hey. I'm not gonna hurt ya. What's your name?" He came a little closer. "What're you doing out here in the cold?"

Eleven did not answer but merely glared at him. From behind her, the log she had set ablaze rose into the air. The man stared at it in alarm, when abruptly, it flew straight at him hitting him hard in the face and knocking him out. Eleven ran to the unconscious man and quickly removed his fur hat and winter coat. Putting the warm articles on she ran off to hide, the snow crunching under her feet.

---

Eleven watched the squirrel outside the cabin for a moment, remembering the desperation and the cold of that time in the woods. Then, she pulled the blind back down over the window, shutting herself away in the lonely, wooden cabin.

---

Hopper's truck pulled into the parking lot at the police station, parking beside a truck with a large bed covered by a dirty, blue tarp. Climbing out of the cab he made to head inside when he paused at the sound of buzzing. He turned to glance at the truck alongside his. Walking over to the back end, he lifted a corner of the tarp to peer at the items beneath it. He found a swarm of flies buzzing over the dead remains of several rotten pumpkins just like what he had seen at Merrill's the day before.

After going inside, Hopper soon found himself sitting at a station desk across from Eugene.

"So you're telling me that Merrill poisoned your farm, because he thinks that you poisoned his which, of course, you didn't?" Hopper clarified, after Eugene stated his piece.

"No, sir. And I got me an alibi the night he accuses me," Eugene confirmed as Powell and Callahan listened closely. "My Jenny and her boys were in town. I was with 'em all night."

"Did you actually see Merrill?" Hopper asked.

"No need. That man done lost his mind," griped Eugene in exasperation. "Went around slandering me, threatening all sorts of madness."

"A pumpkin conspiracy, Chief," chuckled Powell.

"Hawkins very own Chinatown," Callahan quipped.

Ignoring them, Hopper told Eugene, "Listen, Merrill threatening to do something and him actually doing something are two very different things."

"You got a better explanation?" Eugene asked him with wide eyes.

"Cold weather," Hopper shrugged.

"It's October."

"Yeah, it's a cold one," Hopper pressed.

Eugene held out his wrinkled hands with palms facing Hopper. "You see these hands?"

Hopper nodded. "Yeah."

"You know why they look like that?"

"Because you're old," frowned Hopper, confused.

"You're damn straight," Eugene stated firmly. Powell chuckled in amusement. "And I've been doing this a long time, Chief. A long time. And I ain't never seen anything the likes of this. None of us have."

"None of us?" asked Hopper.

"Merrill didn't just hit me last night. He hit damn near everyone."

"What are you talking about?"

"Jack O'dell, Pete Freeling, Rick Neary, the Christensens," Eugene listed off. "All of their crops, dead."

Hopper stared at him in wonder, then he reached into a drawer in the desk and pulled out a pad of notebook paper.

"Give me those names again," he said.

---

After school Max rode her skateboard down the pavement to the high school parking lot. Stepping off her board, she used her foot to propel one end up so that she could pick it up and walk the rest of the way to the Camaro in the lot. Her stepbrother was leaning against the trunk waiting for her. She walked straight past him but then glanced at the back of his head, hesitating for a moment before opening the passenger door to climb in.

"You're late again," he said without looking at her.

"Yeah, I had to get catch-up homework," she explained.

"Jesus. I don't care," he snickered in annoyance. Turning his head slightly he said over his shoulder, "You're late again and you're skating home. Do you hear me?"

Looking back toward the parking lot with a bitter look he took a last drag from his cigarette, then threw it to the ground as she climbed into the car. He walked around to the driver's seat and slid in behind the wheel, throwing his bag carelessly behind his seat.

Max sat quietly in her seat as Billy sped down a country road toward home.

"God, this place is such a shit-hole," he griped.

"It's not that bad," Max stated, wanting to contradict him.

"No?" He asked innocently, then he rolled down her window as she looked around confused. He inhaled deeply, then pinched his nose. "Mmm! You smell that Max? That's actually shit. Cow shit."

"I don't see any cows," she said stubbornly.

"Clearly, you haven't met the high school girls," Billy replied.

Max raised the window and rolled her eyes at his statement.

"So, what you like it here now?" he scoffed.

"No."

"Then why are you defending it?"

"I'm not."

"Sure sounds like it," he accused.

"It's just, we're stuck here, so…" Max explained wishing he would just drop it.

"Hmm. You're right. We're stuck here," he glanced over at her with a dark look. "And whose fault is that?"

Looking down into her lap Max whispered under her breath, "Yours."

"What'd you say?" he peered back at her again.

"Nothing."

"Did you say it's my fault?"

"No," she lied quickly.

"You know whose fault it is. Say it. Max...say it," he said in a low, menacing voice. Then, suddenly he bellowed into her ear. "Say it!"

She flinched but remained quiet as he shifted gears and floored the gas pedal, speeding down the winding road at a dangerous speed. He pounded the steering wheel as he rocked and bobbed to the music blasting from the stereo. Max leaned forward, staring out the dash window at three figures riding bikes on the road ahead of them. They all wore proton packs.

"Really, everyone dressed up last year," Dustin was complaining to Mike and Lucas unaware of the fast-approaching vehicle behind them.

"Billy, slow down," Max said worriedly.

"Oh, these your new hick friends?" Billy asked.

"No! No, I don't know them," she answered quickly.

"Well, I guess you won't care if I hit 'em, then, huh? I get bonus points, I get 'em all in one go?" he yelled.

She turned in her seat to face him and said fiercely, "No, Billy, stop. It's not funny."

Billy simply stared back at her while pounding the steering wheel. The Camaro sped over the hilly road and Dustin looked behind them to see the car speeding toward them.

"Hey guys," he said in growing alarm.

"Billy, come on, stop it! It's not funny! Stop!" implored Max.

He ignored her and sped up instead. The three boys now paddled their bikes hard trying to reach the end of the street before the car.

Mike screamed, "Go, go, go, go!"

"Mike, you need to haul ass!" yelled Dustin.

"Billy, stop it!" screamed Max.

In panic, she reached over and grabbed the steering wheel, turning it so that the car swerved away from the boys, just as they directed their bikes onto the leafy shoulder of the road.

"Whoa! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" Dustin hollered as he collapsed off his bike.

Having taken back control of his car, Billy bellowed wildly, "Yeah! That was a close one, huh? Ha ha!"

He laughed raucously as Max spun around to stare out the back window to check if the boys were safe.

Dustin clambered to his feet. "Holy shit! Was that-?"

Lucas helped Dustin up then stared after the speeding car. He panted out, "Mad Max."

From the passenger seat of the Camaro, Max watched their fading figures remorsefully.

---

Once again Hopper drove down a dirt lane passing a sign saying 'Pick Your Own Pumpkin", only this time it was to see Eugene's field. The family watched in morose silence as Hopper and

Eugene ambled through the pumpkin field. Just like Merrill's every one of the pumpkins was black and rotting, flies buzzing over the dead feast.

Hopper bent down to examine one of the fruit and Eugene gestured around with a small stick, asking, "Now, you tryin' to tell me, with a straight face, cold did this?"

"How far does it go?" Hopper questioned him as he stared down the field.

A few minutes later, he and Eugene came to the edge of the woods at the end of the field. Hopper walked over to a black and dying tree. He examined the trunk, noticing some sort of sap oozing from the decomposing wood. He reached out with his gloved hand and found that it was incredibly sticky. As he tried to shake it free from his hand, Powell suddenly called over the radio.

"Hey, Chief, you copy?"

"Uh…" Hopper grunted still trying to shake the goo off his glove.

"Hey, Chief."

Still trying to clean off his glove, Hopper pulled out his radio with his other hand and transmitted, "How's it looking over there?"

"Like a giant pissed all over Jack's bean field," Powell answered from the midst of another infected field. "Smells too. It smell over there?"

"Uh, yeah, little bit."

"Smells like a nursing home, man," whined Callahan from behind Powell.

"Listen. I want you guys to track the rot, see how far it goes. Just uh, mark anything that's dead," ordered Hopper.

"Uh, that's gonna take some time," Powell protested.

"So take it," snapped Hopper. "And look we don't know what caused this. Could be poison. So don't touch anything without gloves."

Powell listened to this statement as he watched Callahan touching the dead, gooey plants with his bare hand then lifting it to his nose to sniff his fingers.

Rolling his eyes, Powell replied, "Copy that, Chief."

Storing his radio away Hopper turned to Eugene. "You got any marking flags?"

After Eugene had retrieved some bright yellow flag markers, Hopper took them and began to bury them into the soil by clumps of rotting vegetation and he went through the woods marking in large sections all that was dead.

---

Towels billowed in the wind as they hung drying from the clotheslines outside the Byers' house. Dressed in a black suit and cape, and wearing makeup reminiscent of Count Dracula, Bob stared into the lens of his video recorder as he instructed Jonathan on its use.

"So, you hit 'T' to zoom in, and 'W' zooms back out. See? Easy-peasy."

"Yeah," nodded Jonathan, lowering the recorder.

"Just make sure to turn off the power to save energy there," Bob pointed at the power button.

Behind them Joyce was assisting Will with his proton pack.

"Listen. Stay close to your brother, okay? And listen, listen, listen…" she turned him to face her and told him quietly. "If you get a bad feeling or anything, you just tell him to take you straight home."

Will nodded and she met his eyes. "You promise?"

"Okay," he answered, trying to please her enough that she would let him go quickly.

Jonathan joined them. "Are you ready, bud?"

"Yeah," Will replied.

Jonathan followed Will out of the house who gave his mother a wide smile to show that he was just fine.

Joyce called after them. "Be safe."

"I hope it doesn't suck!" Bob called in a Dracula accent, helped along by his deformed fake teeth. He snickered in amusement and Joyce gave a short chuckle before watching her boys retreat anxiously.

As they drove down the road Jonathan commented to Will. "I just - I just don't get what she sees in him."

"What?"

Jonathan pulled a face. "Bob."

"At least he doesn't treat me different," Will said quietly. "I mean, I can't even go trick-or-treating by myself. It's lame."

He sat back in his seat, but rather than looking angry or frustrated, he simply looked tired.

"What? You think I'm lame?" Jonathan joked trying to cheer him up.

"No, but it's not like Nancy's coming to watch over Mike, you know?"

Jonathan sighed. He felt torn over wanting to keep Will in his sights at all times and wanting Will to feel like he was just a normal kid who didn't need special treatment. They remained quiet for the rest of the drive to the Wheeler's house, and as they pulled into the cul-de-sac Dustin, Lucas and Mike glanced up from the lawn, pillow cases gripped in their hands.

"Will. Hey!" called Dustin happily.

The boys waved their proton blasters and Jonathan honked back in greeting. One of them yelled, "Hey, don't cross the streams. Don't cross the streams."

Jonathan pulled the car alongside the curb, threw it in park and turned off the engine. He sighed as he came to a decision.

"Hey, listen," he said to Will, who was getting ready to exit the cab.

"Yeah?"

Jonathan started slowly. "If...I let you go on your own, you promise to stay in the neighborhood?"

Will's face lit up and he smiled a wide, excited smile. "Yeah! Yeah, yeah totally!"

Jonathan gesturing at the Wheeler's house. "And be back at Mike's by nine?"

"Nine...thirty?" tried Will.

"Nine."

"Yeah," nodded a grinning Will.

Jonathan held his hand out. "Deal?"

"Yeah, deal!" Will quickly shook his brother's hand, then gathered his proton pack and pillowcase.

"All right," said Jonathan. He reached down for Bob's video recorder and passed it over to Will saying, "Hey, Will. Don't let any of your spazzy friends use this, all right?"

Will snickered as he took the recorder. "Okay."

Imitating Bob's Dracula voice, Jonathan told him, "I hope it doesn't suck."

With a laugh Will closed the door then took off to join his friends. Jonathan watched as they called out in greeting all at once.

"Will!"

"Egon!"

"Yeah! You ready for tonight man?"

Jonathan could not help feeling anxious, remembering what happened the last time he was supposed to watch Will and hadn't. But Will would be with his friends in a busy neighborhood. Besides, they had to let him grow up sometime and allow him to live and enjoy his life. With that thought he reached into his pocket and pulled out the folded orange flyer for Tina's Halloween party. Maybe it was time he started too. He turned the ignition and his car's engine sputtered to life.

---

Music blasted from inside a house crowded with high school students dressed in Halloween costumes and partying with their friends.

A group of the partiers shouted as they counted away the seconds in which Billy Hargrove was performing a keg-stand.

"...thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one, forty-two!"

Lowering himself back on his feet, Billy stood straight and spat beer out of his mouth into the air and everyone cheered. He was wearing a pair of snug jeans and a leather jacket over his bare chest which was shining with a sheen of beer and sweat.

"Yeah!" he hollered.

From beside him, Tommy H. shouted, "Forty-two! We got ourselves a new Keg King!"

Tommy handed Billy a lit cigarette as the crowd began chanting his name. Billy took a deep drag then through a haze of smoke he shouted boastfully, "That's how you do it Hawkins! That's how you do it!"

Billy and Tommy made their way through the yard into the house followed by the chanting of Billy's name. Many of the other kids they passed were highly drunk from the festivities, and they passed one exuberant teen dressed as a caveman and holding a plastic bat who was so drunk that he rammed the bat over his head several times while bellowing a loud battle cry.

Inside the house the party was just as wild and ear-deafening. Toilet paper hung from the ceiling fan, and doing a little dance Billy weaved through the crowd with his arm raised in victory then took a piece of the toilet paper and wiped the beer from his lips. As he did so he glanced across the room. His attention diverted he pushed his way through the crowd and approached a couple standing along the wall, a menacing expression across his face.

"We got ourselves a new Keg King, Harrington," Tommy announced as he pulled up beside Billy.

"Yeah that's right!" yelled another boy.

"Yeah. Eat it, Harrington," said another.

Steve and Nancy peered back at their peers in annoyance and Steve removed his ray bands to glare back at Billy. Nancy however, was not interested in a confrontation and she turned to look around the party. She left Steve standing there and made her way through the crowd until she found herself in the kitchen. She looked around for something to drink and she leaned over a clear, glass bowl of what looked like fruit punch.

"What's in this?" she asked a boy standing beside her who was chugging a plastic cup full of it.

He lowered his cup and roared, "Pure fuel! Pure fuel! Whoo!"

He pounded his chest, then let out a burp and went back to finishing his drink. Steve smirked in amusement as he approached from behind but then he noticed that Nancy had filled a cup with the spiked punch and was gulping it down.

"Hey, whoa, whoa…hey, whoa, whoa, whoa! Take it easy. Take it easy. Nance, Nance, Nance…" he reached for the cup to take it from her and she backed away, holding the cup protectively and frowning at him.

"We're just being stupid teenagers for the night. Wasn't that the deal?" she threw at him in annoyance.

Steve did not respond and she turned to fill her cup again, which she proceeded to drain in front of him. Lowering the cup she reached up and wiped some of the liquid from her cheek, then entered the throng of dancing teenagers and began to bob mindlessly to the music. Steve leaned against the counter regretting his decision to come. He had wanted to spend a night where they could just forget everything, but partying just wasn't the same when no one truly wanted you there, including yourself.

---

In Joyce's living room, Bob carefully placed the stylus onto the turntable of Joyce's record player. A song featuring Kenny Rogers began to play softly in the quiet home, and he turned with a smile, Joyce chuckling as she watched him.

"No. No. No," she protested as he danced his way over.

Taking her glass of wine from her and setting it on the coffee table, he said, "Come on. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Come on."

He reached down and took both of her hands and helped her to her feet. Despite her complaints she allowed him to pull her into his arms, her own wrapping comfortably around his shoulders.

"Oh, there it is," he chuckled. He danced with her, gently swaying as they turned on the spot. "You playing Frankenstein to my Dracula? Come on, you're stiff as a board. Relax."

Joyce put her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. It's…"

She lifted her head and met his eyes. Not needing her to finish the sentence, Bob told her, "He's fine. Okay? Jonathan's with him."

She sighed, shaking her head. "I know. It's just every time he's away from me, it's like I can't function. I know it sounds silly."

"No, it's not silly. It's not silly," he held her close as they danced. He remained quiet for a moment, then with hesitation he asked, "What if we were to move out of Hawkins...together?"

Joyce leaned back instantly. "What?"

"I know. Whoa, Nellie, right?" he chuckled nervously. "No, I just...I-I've been thinking about what you said. About how we've got all these memories here, and you wish you had enough money to move. Well, my parents are selling their house in Maine. There's a Radio Shack nearby. I'm sure they'd take me on. We could just…"

He fell silent as he watched Joyce, who had lowered her eyes doubtfully. He backtracked and said meekly, "My turn to be silly now."

Joyce sighed, and reached up to caress his face. "Bob…"

Bob shook his head, embarrassed. "No, it's fine. Wine makes me crazy."

"Oh, it's just so hard to explain," she said.

She wanted to tell him the truth. That there was more holding them in Hawkins than mere financial problems, with Will needing to be examined by the Hawkins' scientists, and Hopper keeping an eye out for dimensional phenomenons, and Will's friends being the only ones outside of their family who understood what had happened to him.

"It's just this...this is not a normal family," she related.

"It could be," he whispered.

Joyce gave him a pained smile. She could see that maybe in another world where Will had never gone missing and they remained oblivious to the mysteries of the universe, she and Bob and her boys could just be a normal little family in a humble home. But if he knew the truth, she was sure he would run far away. And besides, they were not permitted to tell anyone. So instead, she merely pulled him to her and held on tightly as they danced to the music. They were interrupted by the doorbell and Bob pulled back from her.

"Finally," he said. He popped in his fake teeth and gestured at his mouth. "Huh?"

Then, he turned toward the door and, imitating Dracula once more, he said, "Victims!" and rushed over to greet the Halloween beggars.

---

"Trick-or-treat!" announced Dustin, Lucas, Mike and Will together as a grinning, elderly lady opened her door.

Will held Bob's video recorder on his shoulder and was capturing the woman's amused excitement as she looked them over.

"Oh! Well, aren't you cute?" she exclaimed. "The little exterminators!"

She held out a bowl of candy but the smiles slipped from their faces at her comment and they glanced at one another offended. In annoyance they each grabbed fistfuls of the candy and left without a thank you.

"If I get another Three Muskateers, I'm gonna kill myself," Lucas complained as they ambled down a hill to the sidewalk, swinging pillowcases of candy.

"What's wrong with Three Muskateers?" wondered Dustin.

"'What's wrong with Three Muskateers?'" Lucas repeated incredulously.

"No, one like's Three Muskateers," Mike claimed.

"Yeah, it's just nougat," Will pointed out.

"Whoa! 'Just nougat'? Just nougat? It is top three for me," Dustin announced sharply.

"Top three?" Lucas shook his head in disbelief.

"Top three," Dustin reiterated.

"Oh God, give me a break," Mike rolled his eyes.

"Seriously," Dustin went on. "I could just eat a whole bowl of nougat. Straight up."

Suddenly, a black creature with a disfigured white face leapt out before them wielding a sword and growling. The boys leapt back with horrified shouts and a high-pitched scream from Lucas. The creature reached up and removed its face revealing a laughing Max Mayfield. She was wearing a black coverall, a grotesque Halloween mask, and carrying a toy sword and an orange trick-or-treat pumpkin bucket from Melvard's General Store which she had bought after school let out.

"Holy shit! You should have seen the look on your faces. And you?" she directed her gaze at Lucas. "Who screams like that? You sound like a little girl."

Still chortling she turned and flounced away, the boys staring after her perplexed, but after a few paces she hesitated and turned back.

"Hey, you guys coming or not? Oh, I heard we should hit up Loch Nora. that's where the rich people live, right?" She laughed excitedly again and headed off.

With wide smiles stretching across their faces, Dustin and Lucas glanced at one another, then hurried to catch up with her. Will followed after them, and with a resentful sigh, Mike trudged reluctantly in their wake.

---

Hopper placed a yellow marker into the dirt at the base of a dead tree. The sky was now dark and he was using a flashlight to peer around the woods. He spotted another rotting tree and examined it closely before placing another marker into the dirt by its roots. He walked back through Eugene's field wondering about Powell and Callahan's progress when he came to a halt, having heard something in the darkness.

He held his flashlight high staring at the field. His right hand slowly eased over the gun holster on his hip, unsnapping the clasp, and preparing to draw out the gun at the first sign of danger. He listened closely for signs of another presence when suddenly his ears were assaulted by a loud click to his right. He spun toward it, his hand tightening on the butt of his gun, but before he had drawn it from the holster he saw that it was only Eugene's grandson, dressed in a cowboy costume and shooting imaginary bullets from his toy gun.

"You're dead," the kid told him smugly.

Heart racing and flustered Hopper replied, "Yeah, you got me kid."

The boy raised his gun in the air and shot off a volley of celebratory shots, giggling.

"Happy Halloween," Hopper said, still annoyed but with a spark of amusement.

He watched the kid for a moment but it suddenly dawned on him that he was supposed to be spending Halloween with Eleven. He quickly glanced at his watch hoping he still had time to make it home, but he knew before even reading the hands that he was hours late.

"Oh, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!"

He ran forward and darted to the driver's side of his truck, yanked the door open and climbed in. Eugene's grandson watched as Hopper sped away but after driving a few yards away the truck came to a stop and after a short pause, the truck backed up until Hopper was level with the kid. Quickly placing the truck in park he leaned over to the passenger side door and cranked down the window.

"Hey, kid. Give me some of that candy, would ya?"

The boy shook his head. "No way."

Hopper sat back in his seat and dug inside his pocket. Leaning back over the passenger seat he held up a dollar bill and said, "All right. How 'bout now?"

---

On the TV screen in Hopper's cabin Frankenstein's monster stared down into the face of a little girl. The characters had no color and lived in a drab world of black, gray and white.

The little girl spoke sweetly to the monster. "Who are you? I'm Maria. Will you play with me? Would you like one of my flowers?"

Eleven sat curled on the couch, cuddling a teddy bear in her arms. She watched the small child lead the monster to the lake by the hand. Across the room the radio began to emit a rhythmic beeping and she tossed her bear and blanket to the side and ran to it. She peered at the technology for a moment, recognizing the Morse code. She looked to the guide Hopper had pinned on the wall.

Listening to the tones she deciphered the message one letter at a time, whispering, "'L'...'A'...'T'...'E'. Late."

The beeping continued, repeating the message again and she stared down at the radio, hurt and angry. She had been looking forward to Hopper coming home early and spending the night with her like he had promised. She hated being alone all day, caged inside and watching obscure characters on the television. She felt isolated and lonely just as she had when she had lived in the woods scrounging for food and water like some sort of animal.

---

It was dark and snowing lightly as Eleven trekked slowly through the woods. She used to run to her shelter before it got dark, afraid to be caught out in the night, but her spirit was waning and she no longer cared. She carried the carcass of a dead animal over her shoulder. She hated eating them almost as much as she hated killing them. She was not a good cook. Mike had said his mother was a really good cook. She wondered what they were eating right now, but the painful gnawing in her stomach forced her to abandon the thought.

She was still walking through the woods when she spotted something on the ground ahead of her. Making her way over she saw that it was a snow-covered box. She knelt before it curiously and used her arm to brush the snow away, her bare hands already too numb from the cold to want to touch the snow. She reached down to open the lid and what she found inside made her wonder if she was dreaming.

A pack of saran-wrapped Eggos sat atop a food container. She gaped at it for a moment then quickly glanced around her to see if someone was there. Obviously, somebody must have put it there, but did that mean they knew she was here? Was it meant for her? Eggos were her favorite and they did not seem to be the kind of food to be left at random. Was it a trap? Maybe there were cameras watching her. Nevertheless, she was not going to pass up the chance to feast on some actual food. She snatched the waffles and the food container and ran away to hide.

---

Eleven stared up at the guide feeling resentful. Hopper was late. Again. With an angry expression she turned the radio off without giving an answer.

---

The Loch Nora neighborhood was a high traffic area for trick-or-treaters. Max had been right to suggest going to the high-end neighborhood as her pumpkin and the boys' pillowcases were much heavier with top-notch candy. Flanked by Dustin and Lucas she left the porch of a large home followed by Mike and Will.

"Another full-size. Like, seriously, rich people are such suckers," said Dustin gleefully, but then he turned to Max and asked apprehensively. "Wait. You're not rich, right?"

"No, I live up Old Cherry Road," she answered.

"Oh," he said apologetically.

"No, it's fine," she said, unembarrassed. "I mean, the street's good for skating."

"Hmm. Yeah, totally tubular," Dustin said through a mouthful of chocolate. She gave him a funny look then rolled her eyes. He asked, "What? Did I say that right? Or is it like, tubular."

He drew out the word dramatically.

"It's like - it's like totally tubular," Lucas imitated the surfer dudes he had seen on television.

Finding it amusing Dustin too adopted the accent. "Totally tubular!"

"What a gnarly wave, dude!" Lucas was very into his impersonation.

"Totally brodacious, bro!"

"Stop," laughed Max. "My ears are hurting."

From behind them Will was filming Dustin, Lucas, and Max as they joked around. He turned the camera and caught a shot of Mike looking glum.

"Did you agree to this?" Mike asked him.

Will lowered his camera. "What?"

"To her, joining our party," Mike said with a dark glance at the back of Max's head.

"It's just for Halloween," Will reasoned.

"You should have checked with me."

"Well, they were excited. I guess I thought you'd be okay with it."

"She's ruining the best night of the year," Mike declared. He continued walking dispassionately and Will paused staring after his friend.

Will had noticed for some time now that Mike was different. After leaving the hospital the year before his friends had told him about their week with Eleven and he could tell they were all saddened by her disappearance. Yet it was Mike who seemed to be hurting the most. Lucas and Dustin had told him that Mike had been closest to El and was the first to accept her into their party.

Will had no trouble believing that, as it was one of the things he liked best about Mike. How accepting and kind he was to others. But lately he had been less so, and now he was upset about a new girl who had no friends joining them for a night out on Halloween. Will realized that Mike was truly suffering over El's death.

Mike strolled up the driveway of a large home and readjusting the items in his hands, Will followed. However, as soon as he set foot on the driveway a tall teenager wearing a mask jumped out at him.

"Watch it, Zombie Boy," the tall boy growled at him.

Another teen wearing a mask and wielding a sword snarled, "Trick-or-treat, freak."

"Boo!" a third teen yelled in his face, popping up in front of him out of nowhere.

Will fell back in fright and hit the ground with a thud, dropping the camera and his bag of candy. Looking up into the sky he noticed white flakes floating down onto him. He rolled over and climbed to his feet. Once again, everything around him was cold and bereft of life.

He called out, "Mike? Mike!"

There was no answer and despite what the doctor had told him about reliving memories, Will could not help but feel certain that he was back in the Upside Down. It was very cold with eerie blue lights still shining from the street lamps covered in vines, but they did nothing to quell the darkness around him. There was not a living soul in sight but Will suddenly heard chittering from all around him. He looked at the broken down cars on either side of him expecting monsters to appear.

A new sound erupted in the distance and he looked straight ahead and saw a huge shadow rising in the sky above an abandoned house. It sounded like strong winds bearing down on him. The shadow turned toward him revealing gigantic tentacles that swirled like tornadoes. It was the same shadow he had seen the night before outside his house, only then it had been far away. Now it was practically right above him. The shadow began to come at him and with a gasp Will turned and fled.

He ran down a long trail of steps in the side of the hill and reaching the bottom he hid behind a brick wall, crouched low and hugging his knees to his chest. He closed his eyes and kept quiet, hoping, praying it did not find him. He could hear the shadow moving and it seemed so close. Without warning something grabbed his arm and his eyes popped open in horror to see Mike leaning down over him.

"Will, what's wrong? I couldn't find you, are you hurt?" Mike asked urgently.

Will searched the sky for the shadow but saw no sign of it. The world was warm and alive again with no monsters, but it had felt so real.

Soon Dustin, followed by Lucas and Max had run down the steps to join Mike and Will.

"Holy shit!" Dustin exclaimed.

"Is he okay?" Lucas asked, concerned.

"I don't know," Mike replied as he helped a whimpering and trembling Will to his feet. "I'm gonna get you home, okay? I'm gonna get you home. Hold on."

He had to force Will to his feet as he seemed too scared to want to move, and Dustin rushed forward wanting to help.

"All right, take it easy," Dustin said worriedly.

"I got him. I got him," Mike shot at him.

"Mike?" Dustin said taken aback.

"Keep trick-or-treating. I'm bored anyways," Mike told him resentfully. He wrapped his arm around Will's shoulders and led him back up the steps to the road.

Dustin and Lucas watched their departure and Max turned to them in alarm and asked, "What's wrong with him?"

But they did not offer an answer.

---

Music still boomed loudly from Tina's party when the boy who had introduced Nancy to the punch bowl spiked with 'pure fuel' pushed past several people before leaning over and vomiting violently on the ground. A teen dressed as a mime edged around him with a disgusted look passing closely by a car that had just pulled up to the party. In the driver's seat of that car sat Jonathan Byers who shut off the engine and climbed out.

He glanced around uncomfortably before thrusting his fists into his jacket pockets and walking toward the front entrance. He entered the house and after closing the door he pressed himself against the wall to keep from bumping the people who were dancing all around him. The house was extremely crowded and Jonathan had to force air in and out of his lungs, feeling like his chest was growing heavier with lead. Carefully, he made his way through the party scanning for Nancy.

"Nice costume."

Jonathan turned to see a girl his age peering up at him. Her lips and eyes were shaded with heavy black makeup and her dark hair was tousled in erratic waves. She wore long beaded necklaces over a short black dress. She smiled at him.

"Huh?" asked Jonathan caught off guard to have a stranger speaking to him.

"Nice costume," she repeated.

"Oh, uh, yeah," he stuttered. "I'm going as a guy who hates parties."

The girl laughed at his joke, her eyes twinkling with interest. "I'm Samantha."

"Uh, Jonathan," he replied and he reached out to shake her hand.

After releasing his hand Samantha stared up at him expectantly, but she did not say anything and Jonathan was suddenly at a loss for what to say next. He glanced around anxiously and managed to spot Nancy and Steve dancing in the crowd of people. A surge of regret in coming to the party passed through him and he dragged his gaze away from the pair. He turned back to Samantha who was still watching him silently.

"Kiss?" he asked her, but when she raised her eyebrows at him he quickly clarified as he gestured to her costume. "The band."

Samantha laughed again and she bit her lip as she peered up at him under heavy eyelids. Across the room Nancy stumbled past the other partiers toward the kitchen, making her way back over to the punch bowl in order to refill her empty red cup. Steve dashed after her and tried to pull the plastic cup away.

"No, no, no."

"Get off," Nancy snarled as she gripped it tightly.

"No, you've had enough, okay?" he told her sternly.

Nancy shoved at him and said, "Screw you!"

She reached over the counter and filled her cup with the liquid. However, Steve again tried to take the cup from her. She drew the cup back so that he was struggling to get it from her.

"Nance, I'm serious. Hey, hey. Hey, stop! No, I'm serious. Put it down."

"No!"

"Nance, put it down," he said through gritted teeth as the spiked beverage sloshed over their hands.

"Steve, stop!"

"Stop. Stop!"

Steve lost his grip on her and Nancy fell back a step so that the drink splashed over the front of her white dress. She gasped in shock and the crowd exclaimed in amusement at her red-stained top. Nancy glared at Steve.

"What the hell?" she muttered before setting the cup down and marching off.

"Nance," Steve called.

He followed her into a bathroom where she snatched up a white washcloth and leaned over the sink. Steve closed the door as she turned the faucet on and began to soak the cloth.

"Nance, I'm sor-" he paused as he watched her take the wet cloth and scrub haphazardly at the stain. He sighed, realizing just how drunk she was. "That's not coming off, Nance."

"It's coming," she slurred.

"Come on, let me just take you home, okay? Come here," he said gently. "Let me take you home. Come on."

"You wanted - you wanted this," whined Nancy.

"No, I didn't want this. I told you to stop drinking."

"It's bullshit!" she yelled.

"No, it's not bullshit, okay?"

"Bullshit!"

"No, it's not bullshit, Nancy!" Steve said again, getting frustrated.

"No you," Nancy said and despite her drunken state the meaning was quite clear. Steve froze staring down at her and she told him harshly, "You're bullshit."

"W-what?" Steve asked, hurt.

"You're pretending like, like everything's okay," she slurred. "You know, like we…like we didn't like we didn't kill Barb."

Her lovely face contorted with pain, and tears welled up in her eyes. Steve stared down at her dumbfounded as she continued, "Like, like it's great. Like, we're in love and we're partying. Yeah, let's party, huh? Party. We're partying. This i-is bullshit."

Steve felt as if someone had physically punched him in his gut.

"'Like we're in love?'" he repeated, as he caressed her face fearfully, hoping she would come to her senses, kiss him and say that no of course she loved him as much as he loved her.

But with a hard, merciless look on her face she said, "It's bullshit."

"You don't love me?" Steve asked her.

"It's bullshit," she said again.

Steve backed away and for the first time since he had known her he did not want to look at her. Quickly stepping past her, he opened the bathroom door, walked out without a word and left, slamming the door behind him. Nancy stared down at the sink feeling dully that she had said something wrong, but she could not bring herself to care so she retrieved the towel and resumed wiping at the red stain across her blouse.

Steve hurried through the crowd of people making his way toward the exit as his eyes stung with tears that he knew he wouldn't be able to hold back for long. As he rushed along he noticed Jonathan before him, but not wanting him to get a close look at his face he ducked around him, his gaze on the floor. Astute as ever though, Jonathan did not need a closer look to be able to tell that the confident and ever-outgoing Steve was upset, and that he did not have Nancy with him. Something had happened between them and Jonathan felt bad that this thought maybe him feel hopeful.

---

Halloween beggars slowly began making their way home with buckets full of candy as Will and Mike sat side-by-side on the basement couch. Candy littered the floor and coffee table before them.

Mike listened closely as Will explained, "It's like...like I'm stuck."

"Like, like stuck in the Upside Down?" Mike asked him.

"No," Will sighed as he tried to think of a way to explain the feeling. "You know on a View-Master, when it gets, like…"

"...caught between two slides?" Mike supplied helpfully.

"Yeah, yeah like that. Like one side's our world," Will held his hands out with palms facing each other as if the earth was right in front of him, small enough to fit between his hands. "And the other…"

He paused as he thought of that cold, dreaded place. "The other slide is the Upside Down. And...and there was this noise…"

He thought back to earlier in the night when his reality had been disrupted by the Upside Down and he had heard that strange chirping. " Coming from everywhere. And then I saw something."

Will's heart raced and it seemed as if he had to work harder to breathe as he thought back to the giant shadow that had loomed high above him. He seemed unable to continue so Mike asked tentatively,

"The demogorgon?"

Will shook his head. "No. It was like this, this huge shadow in the sky. Only, i-it was alive, and it was coming for me."

Mike felt scared that Will might think he thought he was crazy or, worse that maybe Will was somehow losing his mind, but he asked nevertheless, "Is this all real? Or is it like the doctor's say, all in your head?"

Will thought about the shadow. He had never seen anything like it, even when he had been in the Upside Down, but it felt real. As real as a demogorgon, and somehow, more terrifying. He finally answered, "I don't know. Just….just please don't tell the others, okay?" He looked up at Mike with pleading eyes. "They won't understand."

Mike gazed sadly at the floor. "Eleven would."

Will thought about the girl that had helped save his life. The girl whom he had never even met. He remembered the sound of her voice in that dreaded place. The feeling of someone with him. Someone kind and gentle. "She would?"

Mike nodded. "Yeah. She always did."

He hesitated, afraid to say what he was thinking in case it made him sound insane. But Will had been brave enough to share his thoughts so he said, "Sometimes I feel like I still see her. Like she's still around, but she never is."

Self-conscious, Mike sniffed and shook his head with a small laugh, as if blowing it off as unimportant. "I don't know. Sometimes I feel like I'm going crazy."

"Me, too," Will replied seriously.

Mike looked back at Will realizing that maybe he did understand in some small way how he felt. "Hey, well, if we're both going crazy, then we'll go crazy together, right?"

Will gave a small laugh, his face breaking out into a wide smile, and he suddenly felt less lonely. "Yeah. Crazy together."

Both looked back at the floor, Will thinking about the shadow again and Mike about Eleven. Neither truly knew how the other felt about their respective ghosts, but they nonetheless felt they understood each better.

Outside of Mike's house Jonathan walked around to the passenger side door of his car and opened it to where Nancy wass turned on her side trying to sleep. He helped her out of the car, pulled her right arm around his neck and shoulders as he wrapped his arm gently around her waist. He began to walk her to her front door but she stumbled and he fell hard to his knees as he struggled to keep her from hitting the ground. He lifted her back up with her left arm now around his shoulders and he wrapped both his arms firmly around her waist. Fortunately, Ted and Karen had not returned from trick-or-treating with their youngest daughter Holly so that Jonathan and Nancy went undiscovered. After some time and much struggle he finally got her into her room and she plopped down onto her bed lying on her back. He reached down and lifted her legs onto the mattress, then he gently removed her boots, setting them aside where she would not trip over them in the morning. Then, he reached down and pulled her bedspread over her.

Nancy's eyes fluttered open and focused on him. She grabbed his arm as he tucked her in.

"Jonathan?"

He gazed down at her. Her face was pained and sad, and he waited for her to continue but her eyelids slipped shut again and her arm dropped from his as she fell back to sleep. His eyes roved over her beautiful face and her stained blouse and he wished he could just stay. Lie down next to her like he did last year so that she could feel safe. He wanted to hold her. But she was not his to hold, so he walked to the door, took one last glance at her sleeping form before flipping off the light and closing the door to go in search of Will.

---

Hopper ran quickly up the steps to the porch of his cabin, flashlight in hand. He opened the screen door and quickly knocked out a rhythm on the locked door. There was no sound and thinking that maybe he had knocked too quickly he knocked again, slower this time so that Eleven could make out the pattern. Two quick knocks. Pause. One knock. Pause. Three quick knocks. No sound.

El had heard.

Hopper stroked his forehead, aggravated at himself. "Hey, kid. Open up all right? Look, I-I know I'm late. I got candy here all right? I got all the good stuff."

The door remained closed and there was silence in the cabin. Beginning to feel desperate Hopper said loudly, tapping the door roughly as he punctuated each word, "Please, will you open the door? I'm gonna freeze to death out here."

He heard the latch unlock and he quickly threw the door open and hurled himself inside. Scanning the main room for Eleven he realized that she wasn't there and neither was their television. He could however, hear the muffled sounds of a TV coming from her room and as he made his way over he saw that the cord was stretched across the floor and sticking out from under her closed door.

Leaning against the frame he spoke to her. "Hey, kid. Open up would'ya?"

No response.

"I-I got uh...stuck somewhere and I lost track of time. And I'm sorry."

He did not know what more he could say. He did not want to tell her that something strange was happening again. He did not want his fear to be hers. And besides there were no excuses. He had made a promise. And he broke it. That was something you just could not do. Not with Eleven.

"El, would you please open the door? El?"

When she did not answer he stalked over to the couch and plopped down with the bucket of candy he had swindled Eugene's grandson for.

"Alright. I'm just gonna be out here by myself, eating all this candy," he picked out a candy at random and tore open the wrapper. "I'm gonna get fat. It's very unhealthy to leave me out here. Could have a heart attack or something. But, you know, you do what you want."

He popped the candy into his mouth, but El still refused to acknowledge him. Deciding he definitely hated the silent treatment he flicked the wrapper aggressively at the floor.

From inside her room, Eleven listened as a male announcer advertised on the TV screen, "One quarter pound of all-American beef, fresh-cut tomato, and four strips of crispy bacon."

"Did someone say bacon?" exclaimed the voices of an overly excited man and woman.

Eleven, who was sitting directly on the floor in front of the screen flipped the channel with a twist of her head and other advertiser began, "Refreshing lemon-"

But this was not what El wanted and she again flicked her head to the side and the channel changed to a woman's voice blaring out, "...and they're perfect for dunking. Mmm!"

Another channel switch and suddenly the screen turned to static. Satisfied, El pulled a blindfold up to her face and tied it at the back of her head. With the world blacked out and the sound of the static feeling her ears she felt into the in-between. She thought of the face she most wanted to see and then with her consciousness she reached out to the gaps between the frequencies. She reached into those gaps, sending her mind there until she felt herself enter a void. A silent, empty place. She stood in shallow water that never seemed to leave her feet wet and she looked around until she heard Mike's voice.

"It's day three hundred and fifty three," he was saying.

She looked around and found him sitting in the tent he had made for her last year when she spent a week hiding in his basement. He sat cross-legged among the blankets holding a radio by his face. He was speaking into it. He was speaking to her.

"I had a bad day today. I don't know. I...I guess I wish you were here. I mean, we all do. If you're out there, just please give me a sign."

She knelt before him, closer than she had ever come before whenever she visited him. Slowly, he glanced up until he was looking directly into her face. For an instant, it was as if he could truly see her.

"Mike," she said.

In his basement Mike lowered the radio staring into the space before him and though he could see no one in the room, he felt something shimmering in the area around him. As if something intangible was there. A whisper. A presence.

"Eleven?"

In the void, El reached out her hand to touch his cheek. Her fingers trembled slightly at the thought of feeling his warm skin, but before her hand had reached his face a look of disappointment crossed his features and he looked down, shoving the antenna of his radio down and turning it off. Leaving it behind in the tent, Mike climbed to his feet exasperated with himself. He walked away, leaving Eleven staring sadly after him in the void.

Pulling the blindfold from her head, she sobbed in silence, not caring about the blood trickling from her nose and feeling lonelier than she had ever felt in her very lonely life.

---

Dustin walked up to his house, swinging about a pillowcase of candy that he would normally be rushing home to sort through, thinking about Max Mayfield and how she had laughed at his surfer impression.

"Tubular. Tubular," he muttered under his breath. Maybe if he improved his impersonation she would like him more? He tried again with more gusto. "Tubular."

As he walked up to the porch he suddenly heard a strange sound coming from behind him. He turned, but all he saw was their tin trash can sitting by the garage.

"Mews. Is that-?"

Suddenly the trash can rocked violently and Dustin dropped his bag of candy in utter alarm, gasping. Wanting to be holding a weapon in his hands, any weapon, he reached around his back for his makeshift proton blaster. The chirping noise still sounded from the can and it rocks softly.

Dustin slowly inched toward the trash knowing there was something inside. He reasoned that it must be small to fit in the can, especially since he knew it was already half full of trash., but it didn't stop him from thinking of a horde of those demogorgons.

"Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit," he muttered under his breath and his heart rate picked up speed.

With a fierce warrior-like cry he quickly removes the lid from the trash can, flinging it to the side and aiming his useless proton gun down at whatever horror awaited him. As he caught sight of the source of the noise lying among their trash his cry died out and he stared down blankly.

Dustin softly uttered, "Holy shit."