Chapter Nine

When Chrissy came to, she was in Eddie's arms, gasping for air and clutching at his jean battle vest. Her arms and legs ached as if they had been pulled to impossible angles and her mouth was slick with blood. Her eyes felt dry and bruised and her vision was blurry. She blinked tears away rapidly and began to gain her vision back.

She was in Eddie Munson's living room. She was in Eddie Munson's embrace. ABBA was playing on his massive soundsystem just a few feet away from them. She was close enough to a speaker she could reach out her hand and touch its booming lattice surface and feel the boom of the music beneath her palm. She wasn't in that bloodied hellscape she had begun to see as she began to levitate.

Her skin was frigid cold and covered in gooseflesh. One of Eddie's hands was supporting Chrissy's head, resting in the spot comfortably just beneath her ponytail and the curve of her neck, and the other was smoothing its way down her arm, soothing down the prickled skin and raised peach fuzz. She shuddered softly.

"E-Eddie?" She asked. Her voice was a croak and she thought she sounded young, like a child. "Is that you?" She tentatively rose a hand up to his pallid cheek. He looked as if he had seen a ghost.

"Chrissy, is that you?" He mimicked with a gentle, shaky laugh and a soft caress of her cheek, wiping away her tears with the edge of his calloused thumb.

"How did you do it?" Chrissy asked, marveling at him like he was a beam of light after the darkest night.

"Do what?" His face had begun to flush slightly beneath her touch and gaze, and Chrissy felt her lips twitch in the smallest threats of a smile. She liked the warmth on his cheeks. It warmed her cold inside.

"How did you save me?" Chrissy asked.

He gave a low chuckle and smirked at her from beneath his bangs. "Don't give me all the credit, it was obviously Swedish pop sensation ABBA," to which he gave a grand swing of his arm behind him towards the turntable, a roll of his eyes, and cradled her within the other arm's grasp. She was stunned by how strong he was, supporting her in a kneeled position, cradled like a baby in one arm. She hadn't thought she was that small, nor had she hadn't thought he had looked that much bigger than her.

But then again, she hadn't recalled a time he wasn't wearing his Hellfire Club shirt, leather jacket, and jean vest– which did a pretty good job of hiding his frame from one's gaze. Chrissy felt her hand fall to his bicep, giving it a subtle, curious squeeze. It was flexed from holding her, firm and strong. ABBA's Why Did It Have To Be Me? began to melodiously play on from the radio.

She began to blush.

"I definitely think it was you," Chrissy answered.

Eddie lowered his face close to hers then, looking at her steadily in her green eyes. She gasped softly. His brown eyes were filled with glowing pools of gold– the brightest brown eyes she had ever seen. He smelled deeply of spice and something pungent and sweet, like oil. "What happened, Chrissy?"

She leaned her forehead against his gently, closed her eyes, and shook her head weakly. "I told you… I'm losing my mind."

"No, Chrissy." He rested her on his lap and then held her face between his rough skinned hands. It was comforting, the feeling of his working calloused hands on her face. It made her feel safe. "If you're losing your mind, I'm losing mine too. You flew into the air. Your eyes started bleeding. There's something seriously, seriously wrong here."

ABBA's Tiger sang on,

"I am behind you /

I'll always find you /

I am the tiger"

A familiar chill began to creep slowly back up Chrissy's neck, and she placed Eddie's warm hand back on the curve there. Immediately, she began to feel the cold chill begin to leave her body once his warmth was back in place, once he was back keeping her safe.

"Tell me, please." Eddie begged, peeking up at her again from beneath his locks.

With that gaze– so soft, so welcoming and safe– she wanted to trust him. She wanted his help. She felt herself say almost outside of her own body, "I'm haunted by a demon. He's been flayed alive, and he knows I…" She swallowed, hard. "He knows I want to die, and he's going to kill me."

"And if I meet you /

What if I eat you? /

I am the tiger"

ABBA sang.

Chrissy continued quickly, as the truth poured out of her like a rushing river, pressure finally relieved in a burst, relieved to finally have someone to confide in. "He comes when I'm really depressed, and that's all the time now. School is getting so hard– I got a C- on a math test last week and I still haven't shown my mom. She's a big part of this too, because nothing is ever good enough, even though all I do is try!" And then Chrissy was crying, big wet tears. She felt like Alice in Wonderland, when she grew too big for the first time– like an oversized child complaining about nonsensical things. "I just can't do it anymore and he knows–"

Eddie's eyes were wide in shock and he scrambled to catch each of the tears that fell down her face, but they continued to pour faster than he could swipe them. "Hey, Chrissy– hey, look– don't cry, Chrissy–" he tried desperately. "Th-this demon dude… you say he's flayed? Like all gore and shit?"

Chrissy wiped her eyes and peered at him shrewdly, sure he was mocking her. "Yes." She said, regarded. "All bloody."

"Y-you sure it's not just Freddy Kreuger creeping in your daydreams, princess?" He asked, smoothing the edge of his thumb gently over her cheekbone. She felt her face fall in his hands, revealing her disappointment. She had really thought he had believed her. "Hey! Hey!" He said quickly, holding his hands up innocently. "I was joking. I believe you. Really."

She eyed him skeptically. "I don't believe you."

"Yeah, I wouldn't believe you either if I hadn't seen you exorcist-ed in my mother-loving living room. But sure enough, here we are, and I wanna know what the hell happened, Cunningham."

"I told you, you saved me," She beamed at him again then and gently slid the back of her hand against his soft cheek. It was warm to the touch and the color of scarlet. She thought to herself how beautiful the red looked against the golden in his eyes. "Can I stay here tonight?"

Eddie's entire face had grown the color of flames and he seemed stunned for words. "Yeah," He choked out. "Yeah, you can stay."

ABBA's Arrival was rising to a closing crescendo, and Chrissy could feel the chill in the air slowly returning, and could hear the faint ticking of a clock far off in the distance. She looked at Eddie desperately– desperate to keep anything the same, to keep the demon away, to stay safe here with Eddie.

She thought panickily as the last song reached its halfway mark. The ticking began to grow closer to her.

Tick.

Tock.

"Eddie," She asked desperately, "Do you have any more music?"

Chrissy Cunningham on his bed cross legged in her green and yellow ruffled cheer skirt was a sweet sight Eddie Munson had never expected to have the pleasure of seeing– and had she had not scared the ever-living Christ out of him by levitating in his living room, she would have been quite the sweet pleasure to see. He expected her to start rising at any moment, her arms and legs rippling like they were being torn from her body and blood dripping from the holes in her face in thin tendrils. He still had her blood dried on the edges of his fingers when he had wiped them from her face along with her tears. So when she asked if he had more music to keep the evil bad guy away, he sprung to action and began to search through his music collection for something the prep may like.

Eddie didn't want to see her like that again. He didn't want to see anyone like that ever again.

Hurriedly, he dug in his box of cassettes for something poppy and light-hearted. "Uh, you know, sweetheart," He cleared his throat. "I was really scraping the barrel with that ABBA album. I'm gonna guess most of my tunes aren't exactly your cup of tea."

She smiled sweetly, and he felt his jaw tighten like it seemed to do in response to her– that sour jawbreaker in the back of his mouth, puckering his lips. "Try me," She said. "I like noise."

He stood and stared at her for a moment, awe-struck. Who was this girl and what on Earth had she brought to him? She was a mystery Eddie had no clue how to begin to solve.

"Yeah, okay, you freak" He said with a grin, selecting a small cassette in a blue and red covered case that was more than halfway played through. He had remembered which track he had left on, and had a feeling she would enjoy it. He gave the small tape case a flip in his hand, caught it mid-air, and then planted a soft kiss to its plastic face.

Eddie popped Dio's Holy Diver into the small boom box he kept in his room and the song Rainbow In The Dark continued from where it left off the last time Eddie had played the tape, just earlier that morning before the pep rally.

"Do your demons /

Do they ever let you go? /

When you've tried, do they hide deep inside? /

Is it someone that you know?"

Eddie grabbed a fistful of his dark hair and shyly covered the bottom half of his face with it. Through the curly mess, he peered at the preppy girl on his bed as she listened to his metal music.

Quicker than he would have thought possible, she was bouncing to the beat, bopping her head slightly, her pony tail swaying to the intense sound of the strings and percussion of the song.

"There's no sign of the morning coming /

You've been left on your own /

Like a rainbow in the dark /

Just a rainbow in the dark."

Chrissy smiled brightly then, and began to look around Eddie's room, her eyes searching over his belongings. She looked comfortable as she gazed along the splintering edge of his ancient dresser with its peeling white paint, towered high with expired laundry long in need of washing. When she made it to his guitar, he heard her gasp softly and she turned to look at him.

"Your guitar!" She beamed.

He felt a surge of pride and an arrogant, sloppy grin found its way to his mouth. "Well yeah, this is where the magic happens," he ushered to his bed, where she sat. "Why wouldn't she be in here?"

Chrissy's cheeks flamed and he saw her shift and place her hands firmly between her legs. She sat up straighter, her chest slightly pushed out towards him. He thought she looked presented, and he liked that.

That sour-sweet taste ached at the back of his teeth.

Dio's album continued and Chrissy's foot continued to bop on as the music played. "You know," she said suddenly, surprising Eddie. "This music isn't so bad–"

"It's not bad, period," Eddie retorted simply with a quick look of disbelief to an imaginary audience.

"- it reminds me a lot of the band at school." She continued, still smiling, still dancing and swaying along with the metal. It made Eddie ache deeply to see her dance to his music. His entire body surged with warmth. He sat down beside her, but kept space between them.

"You like that junk?" He asked, with a crinkle to his nose.

She laughed. "Weren't you in the school band?" Chrissy challenged, leaning slightly towards him, her eyes alit with mischief.

She looked so much calmer than he had seen her all day, so relaxed and warm– nothing like a girl who had just floated to an unbelievable height in his trailer and started profusely bleeding from her face. This girl was going to give him emotional whiplash.

"Sure was," was all he could manage to think of saying. He had a hard time picturing her noticing him playing the trombone his few years he had had the grades to stay in band. He hadn't been in the school band since his first run as a senior, in 1984. Still, he was shocked she had known that about him and his body continued to rise in temperature. He leaned closer to her, his weight giving out beneath the softness of the mattress.

A moment of silence fell between them as the cassette rolled over to the next track, and within the few seconds of silent delay, Chrissy had reached out to Eddie's hand and squeezed it tightly.

Her expression had grown somber.

"You saw my bag?" She nodded to the general direction outside of the bedroom, where her bag lay by the front door. "I wasn't going to go home tonight. I…I can't."

Eddie didn't know what to say, so he just watched, waiting for her to continue. He felt like a predator sitting close to a scared rabbit. He didn't want to frighten her away by any sudden movements.

"I had planned to come here and learn how to smoke and then…" She had begun to wring his hand within her own, the thin silver crescents of her fingernails gently tickling the skin on the back of his hand. "And then I was gonna head out. Out of Hawkins. Wherever." She shrugged. She wasn't looking Eddie in the eye, and she sounded quiet, meek, ashamed.

"Buuuuuut…?" Eddie coaxed, hearing the implied conjunction in her affliction.

"But," She said, finally. "The ticking is gone when you're here. When the noise is here," she motioned around herself, shaking her hands over her ears. "He can't get me. You saved me."

"From the flayed demon," Eddie clarified.

"Yes, the flayed demon," She sighed, and glanced cautiously over her shoulder, as if the monster were lurking around the corner, ready to strike.

"Right…" Eddie said. With a clear of his throat, he jumped up from the bed and paced the small section of his room. His Dio tape was getting close to ending. Some gears were turning in his head. "So, let me get this straight: you've been haunted by this Freddy Kreuger bastard for a bit now and you think me and my noise can keep him away?" Eddie gave a lilted laugh of disbelief and placed his hands behind his head. He exhaled sharply. "You were right, doll. This is absolute crazy shit."

As Chrissy's gaze fell from Eddie disappointingly to her hands, Eddie leaned over to his tape deck, ejected the cassette, and popped a fresh one in its place.

"Get ready to have your night rocked, Chrissy Cunningham." He stuck his tongue out, curled the tip lewdly at her, and pressed play on Van Halen's self-titled album.

"Yeah yeah /

Ah yeah /

I live my life like there's no tomorrow…"