SEQUEL - INSIDE OUT: MALIGNANT - NOW AVAILABLE

Hi there! Thank you so much for reading Inside Out, whether it's for the first time or you've returned for a reread. With Stranger Things Season 4 approaching, I decided it was high time we venture back to the Upside Down. If you can hardly wait for the new season, hopefully pre-gaming with a little fanfiction will take the edge off.

The first chapter of the sequel, Inside Out: Malignant, is now available on my profile and the story will update every Wednesday. I thought I'd change things up and include a small snippet here too, because it makes me feel professional lol.

Thank you so much for reading, or even just taking the time to click. I hope you continue on Christine's journey with me.

-Brittney

Inside Out: Malignant

Chapter One: Change

October 29, 1984

Autumn was always gorgeous in Hawkins.

It was early enough in the season that most trees still had their leaves, but the foliage had all turned gold and orange, matching the pumpkins and gourds decorating house porches between spider webs and scarecrows. The end of daylight savings time meant that it was darker earlier, and the town was nearly ready for Halloween.

On Dover Avenue, houses were decorated with string lights and paper cutouts. Number 68 had six plastic headstones standing on the front lawn, all with skeletons or ghosts popping out of their graves. Next door at number 66, no less than a dozen jack-o-lanterns lit the path to the door. Each one had a different movie monster—Dracula, Frankenstein, Wolf Man, Michael Myers, Jason, the works. A few pumpkins were already starting to wilt, but with the cold front that had blown in, they'd survive the last few days of October.

There were decorations inside too. Paper cutouts of witches and black cats lined the front hall, and a few more pumpkins sat in the living room window. A pile of unused spiderwebs lay forlornly in a box in the corner. Pete Walcott had asked his daughter to hang them up about twenty times, but Christine was still putting it off.

She sat in her bedroom, a book propped open in her lap that she was only half-reading. She only had a few more days to finish Lord of the Flies before her English test, but she was having a tough time feeling motivated enough to read it. Who needed to read about a group of middle school boys fighting each other and playing war games all day? She dealt with enough of that in real life.

Christine sunk further into the cushions she had spread on the floor. She was tucked away in the blanket fort in the corner of her room. She told her father it was a reading nook, but truth be told, she spent more time moping there than anything else.

A few feet away on the carpet, her walkie talkie crackled to life.

"Moria to Rivendell, this is Moria to Rivendell, do you copy? Over."

With a groan, Christine stretched to grab the radio. "This is Rivendell, I copy. Over."

"Hi. Do you absolutely have to come tonight? Over."

"Yes, Dustin. I absolutely have to come tonight. Over."

She could practically hear his whiny groan of disappointment, even though he hadn't transmitted it on the radio.

"You know why I have to come, Dust. Besides, if you guys didn't want me at the arcade, you shouldn't have inducted me into the party. Over."

"It's not that we don't want you," said Dustin, placating her. "And we all know what you've done for the party. But to everyone else at the arcade, we just look like a bunch thirteen-year-olds that still need a babysitter. We all talked about it last week. Over."

"I'm not coming because I'm babysitting. I'm coming because I need to get out of this house. Over."

"What's the status on the Eye of Sauron? Over."

Christine huffed and rolled out of the blanket fort. She jogged to her bedroom door, pressing her ear flat against the wood. Down the hall, she could still hear two voices in the living room. They'd been talking for over an hour, occasionally shouting at the television. One of them laughed deeply, and Christine rolled her eyes.

"Active," she groaned into the walkie. "Still. Over."

"Why do we have to call him the Eye of Sauron?" Dustin asked for about the hundredth time. "I don't think he's that bad. Over."

"Because he watches me, Dustin. Constantly. He is constantly lurking around my house and checking up on me and nosing around and I am sick of it. Over."

"Maybe he just wants to make sure you're okay. Over."

"Why me?" Christine scoffed. "You don't have to put up with this bullshit. Over."

"I'm not the one who broke my leg. Over."

"Yeah, but you're more annoying. Over."

"Excuse me! I am a joy to be around! Over!"

Christine flopped back onto her bed. She stretched out her limbs, sore from sitting on the floor. Then she frowned at the ceiling over her head. She hesitated before speaking into the radio.

"I just don't trust him. Over."

"Why not? Over."

The walkie fell back to the blankets. She didn't have the words to explain herself. Or rather, she had the words, but knew it would be a bad idea to share them with Dustin.

"Because he's an asshole," she said in summary. "Over."

"You're an asshole. Over."

"Watch it, ankle biter. Now I'm definitely coming to the arcade. Over."

"Christine!" Dustin whined. "Come on. You cramp our style."

"Ouch. Harsh, Dusty. Over."

"I didn't say over. Don't interrupt me. This is basic shit, Christine. Over."

"Right," Christine snorted. She'd given up telling Dustin to watch his language ages ago. "You call me an asshole and then say I'm the one with bad etiquette. Over."

"Whatever. I have to call the rest of the party and check on their quarter haul. I'll meet you outside in ten? Over."

"Meeting in ten, copy that. Rivendell, over and out."

"Wait! No, wait! Christine?"

She dropped the radio to the bed, even as he continued to yell.

"Christine, I need to borrow some quarters! Christine? Christine! Do you have any quarters? I only have a dollar! Christine, I asked if you had any goddamn quarters!"

Visit Inside Out: Malignant for the full chapter. See profile for more details.