Chapter Seven

Eddie shouldered the door of the trailer open and quickly worked to set down his full hands. The metal pail, Eddie's wallet and chain, and a heavy walkie talkie clattered loudly to a small, yellowed linoleum dinner tray parked at the side of the front door and he quickly made his way around the entryway, tossing any clothes and trash out that was in the walkway.

Chrissy gave a glance around: The inside of Eddie's trailer was disarray with clothes and bedding material haphazardly strewn across mismatched furniture and littered with old pizza boxes, take out bags, and beer cans. Chrissy noticed lots of beer cans. Hesitantly, she set her bag down onto the floor.

Uh, sorry," Eddie muttered as he quickly worked to tidy the space. "The maid took the week off." With a noisy clang of the cans he had gathered, Eddie shoved his full arms into an even fuller, overflowing garbage bag tied to the fridge door.

Then, he walked over to the living room– a cluttered area with a long brown corduroy sofa, a red suede La-Z-Boy holding a white pillow, and lined with ball caps, lots and lots of ball caps along the ceiling's edge.

Chrissy realized then belatedly that they may not be alone and that someone else– or many someone elses– may be present at Eddie's house with them. She hadn't really considered if Eddie had a girlfriend– someone older and from outside of high school, probably much cooler and more tough than she– and she felt her cheeks warming, betraying her, as she asked, "You live here alone?"

"What? No. Just me and my Uncle Wayne. He took me in a couple years ago. But he should be out late… he works nights out at the plant. You know, making the big bucks." He had started to rummage through some boxes, flipping through records, looking intently for something in particular. After a moment's search he said, "Aha!" and pulled a large sleeve from the hull. He slid the thick, shiny black disc out carefully onto the tips of his fingertips, gently replacing the sleeve with care back into the box. Then he carefully made his way to the other side of the room, to a large Motorola entertainment console was pushed against the wall beside a stack of several styles of amps.

"Woah… what's that?" She asked.

A soft smile quirked at the corners of his mouth, but he didn't answer, just gave his head a gentle shake. Chrissy tried to peek over his shoulder– but had never been good at seeing from a distance– and quickly gave up. She probably wouldn't know what it was anyway. She patiently waited for him to start the music but couldn't help but start to fidget. Her skin was beginning to crawl, and she was beginning to hear the tick tock of the clock distantly at a near constant now. She had taken off her watch and shoved it into her bag shortly before the game trying to stifle the sound, but she hadn't noticed a difference in volume and still felt like she could feel the ticking on her wrist and hear it just a few feet away from her ears, regardless of how deeply she buried the clock underneath layers of clothing.

The scratch of the needle hitting the record, sounding through amplified speakers grabbed Chrissy's attention and Eddie quickly worked to turn it down to a reasonable volume. "Get ready to have your mind blown, Cunningham." He grinned up at her sideways, his dimples deepening, and he brushed his hair from his face, resting his arms lazily behind his head.

The soft, melodious strum of a guitar played gently from the cabinet, the acoustics beautifully resonating off of the wood. Chrissy felt the worry between her shoulder blades instinctively soften. How good did that record player sound! Chrissy noted the song sounded quite familiar, but couldn't place it immediately…

"Everybody screamed…" The radio began to sing, a soft harmony of woman voices. "When I kissed the teacher…"

She gasped and slapped her arm playfully on Eddie's shoulder. "No way! Get out! ABBA?" She gawked at him incredulously.

He held his arms up innocently in a careless shrug and was smiling amusedly. "What did I tell you? I know ABBA."

"Yeah!" She proclaimed, 'Everybody knows ABBA, but not everybody has ABBA on vinyl." She rolled her eyes, laughter bubbling out of her like magic, and she held her hands to the stereo. "What is this?"

Eddie meandered away from her familiarly and she recalled his bouncy behavior earlier in the woods– his retreat before dropping bombs. "It's their album, Arrival. It was my mom's. It got left behind when she uh… when she left." His hands were buried deep in his pockets, and he kicked idly at the carpet. He turned to face Chrissy, a close-lipped smile on his lips. She recognized that smile. She wore that fake smile all the time.

"Do you, uh," she shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, unsure how to get the show on the road. "Do you…. Want…. To smoke?"

"Huh?" Eddie looked at her struck with a moment of bewildered confusion and then laughed, "Oh, right. You're serious about that…" He chuckled and then sighed. "Shit… Yeah." He hurried his way to the small TV tray by the front door and grabbed the chunky walkie talkie from it. He held it up and gave it a shake, "I gotta plug this in real quick– Henderson's orders, but then I'll be right back," and then he was rushing down the hallway and into his bedroom, out of earshot.

This was okay. This was fine. She could be patient. Besides, it would take him a few moments to explain how to do it, and then she imagined it would take a moment for the effects to kick in. She could do this.

Tick.

Tock.

A chime sounded.

"Eddie?" She called.

"What a mad day /

Now I see everything in a different light /

What a mad day /

I was up in the air…"

ABBA bopped from the stereo as the next three chimes sounded.

She could do this.

"Eddie?" Chrissy called again.

"Chrissy…" A cold, chilling and guttural voice ran down her spine and she bolted forward and down the hall towards Eddie's room. "What are you doing here, Chrissy?" The haunting voice called after her.

"Eddie, are you there?" She tried, ignoring the voice, and pressing the door open slowly.

To her surprise Chrissy saw her mother, Laura, who was seated at a small sewing desk in the center of Eddie's room. "Mom?" Chrissy asked, confused.

"Just loosening this up for you, sweetheart." She answered, keeping her back to her as she pressed the clothing through the machine. Chrissy took a hesitant step away as the hammering of the needle drilled loudly into one of her cheer skirts, echoing in the small room. "You're going to look absolutely beautiful." Her voice grew guttural and grotesque, more like a growl than her typical sneer, and much too deep.

She turned to look back at her daughter, the skin on her face was burned, oozing off in places, and her eyes were glossy moons of glaucous. The teeth in her smile were stained yellow and black with rot.

Chrissy turned and ran, pulling the door firmly shut behind her.

Dread descended upon her like a deadly force. The interior of the hallway began to morph, stretching before her, and Chrissy was suddenly in the foyer of her own home.

She didn't want to be here.

She had even packed a bag.

She didn't want to go home.

The door pressed to her back gave in and she spun, grasping it in time to fight the creature on the other end. "No!" She cried.

"Open the door, Chrissy!" The voice howled.

"No! Let go, let go!" She fought to keep the door shut but was ultimately overcome and the door swung open.

Chrissy ran.

"Chrissy!" The evil voice yelled after her.

She ran past pictures of her family through the years that were mounted on the walls– all posed and perfect, with color-coded family attire, and mirrored expressions of her, herself, Tommy, and her father Phillip– for you to admire as you descended into the living space. One had even been a commissioned family portrait, proudly on display at the foot of the stairs.

The wooden railing was water-logged though, and the blue paint on the walls were peeling. The entire air stunk of decay and rust, of metallic wetness, of blood and the air was chilly, like the inside of a meat fridge.

From the living room, she could hear the static of the television, and see the silhouette of her father's head a dark crescent peaking over his recliner. "Dad?" Chrissy called and sprinted to him, calling his name repeatedly in desperation for his salvation.

When she reached him though all feelings of saving were washing away and she saw the orifices on his face were crudely stitched up with thick strands of black yarn, blood streaming from the x stitches.

The lights began to flicker, and a thunderous squelching could be heard descending heavily down the stairs. "Chrissy," It rang out, menacingly.

Chrissy's father began to thrash in his bindings, howling behind his forced muted state, and she ran.

Chrissy ran past the dining room– where a buffet of rotten extravagance was laid on the table, a whole roasted pig's head– apple stuffed in its mouth and all– at the centerpiece, maggots swarming its nostrils and oozing from its ears, the apple gray and liquidly dripping rot. Flies swarmed the room and spiders waltz amongst the rotting food, and Chrissy gagged.

"Chrissy…" The voice was closer now, just around the corner.

She ran harder as she heard the heavy squelching footsteps close behind her and could practically feel the monster's claw upon the neckline of her shirt, grasping at the ends of her ponytail.

She had made it to the front door, and she tore it open, only to reveal wooden paneling, boarding her in.

"No!" She cried, desperately banging her hands against the wood. "Help! Help! Somebody help me!"

Distantly– far, far away– Chrissy could hear a soft melody, a lilted voice emotionally calling, "Chrissy– wake up!" A little song, a ballad for her. At the back of her mind, she recognized vaguely it was Eddie. Was he here? She bet anything he would be a good singer.

The figure of a rotted man rounded the corner and dreadfully crept toward her. His feet made loud, wet squishing sounds when he moved, and his skin smelt rancid and foul, like something sour and steamy. As he got closer, Chrissy could see the rotten skin was more like visceral veins, a muscular system of a man flayed of skin, all of his tubulars and innards visible and red. The layer of tissue covering the crown of his skull was thin, translucent, and revealed a hard white skull underneath it. The cartilage of his ears and his nose had completely dissolved, leaving him with slimy, gory holes hollowed into his face.

He had reached Chrissy now, had her back pressed against the wooden boards blocking the exit. With a slow tilt of his head, he studied her face. Chrissy could hear the blood dripping over and through his flayed body.

She began to cry openly now, tears spilling freely down her cheek. She felt small, smaller than her mother ever had made her feel.

She wanted her mother now.

"Don't cry, Chrissy." The man said, raising a clawed hand much like Eddie had just a few minutes earlier, and moved to wipe away her tears. "It's time for your suffering to end."

Slowly, the creature lifted his hand to her face and pure relief flooded her–

She was weightless.

She was flying.

She felt nothing.

"Ohh /

You can dance /

You can jive /

Having the time of your life!"

The wood behind Chrissy's back began to ripple, quaking like something was banging against it harshly, rhythmically. "Chrissy, it's time to wake up now, I don't like this! Chrissy, wake up!"

"Ooo /

See that girl /

Watch that scene /

Digging the dancing queen!"

Suddenly, a portal opened behind Chrissy, and she fell through and down, right into Eddie's arms.

Chrissy was back in Eddie's trailer in Forest Hill, not in the upper suburbs of Hawkins. She wasn't trapped in that rotten hellscape, and that terrible monster wasn't about to kill her and eat her soul.

Sobs racked violently through her body and Eddie Munson held her tightly as she clung desperately to him. "Please don't go," Chrissy Cunningham begged between sobs. "Eddie, please, Eddie, please don't go."

From Eddie's stereo, ABBA's Dancing Queen was coming to an end and leading into their next track, "My Love, My Life" and Eddie was repeatedly whispering "Okay, okay, I promise," softly into her ear as he cradled her close to his chest, keeping her safe.