Location: Suffocation Pit
Survivors: Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington, Claudette Morel, William 'Bill' Overbeck
Steve's POV-
I quickly enter the Killer Shack from a chase to see Nancy on a generator. "How to do this again?" I question as I stare at Nancy. "You just rub your hands on the generator, trust me on that. I know as much as you since this is our 'first' game." She quickly replied before we repaired together.
Finally, some silence. I can't help but think about Dustin, Robin, Hopper and everyone else. Will Hopper be looking for us? Are they ok? Oh god..what about the Russians?! I need to protect the kids! My parents probably won't care about me missing... I could try every day to get out of this hell but there are no paths to success, not from here. The thoughts are accelerating inside my head. I want them to slow so I can breathe but they won't. My breaths come in gasps and I feel like I will blackout. I can't tell if the Killer is coming or it's just me. Maybe even both. My heart is hammering inside my chest as it belongs to a rabbit running for its skin. The room spins and I squat on the floor, trying to make everything slow to something my brain and body can cope with. I feel so sick. I want to call an ambulance but my phone is gone. If I did have my phone, I don't know who to call, what's their number, who to call.
I quickly grasp my sailer top as I try and breathe. Nancy quickly notices and tries to comfort by hugging me while rubbing small circles on my back. Claudette rushes in and gasped. "First match nerves?" She spoke softly as she went onto the generator. Nancy nodded. I snuggled in, "Sorr- Sorry about that..." Nancy snickered, "Well...this match will be over soon." At that moment the arms squeezed a fraction tighter and I breathed more slowly.
"Bill has been keeping the clown occupied ever since he left Steve. This is the last generator then we can leave." Claudette smiled at both of us. Nancy and I turn the generator.
God, I feel so embarrassed after having that meltdown. Blushing would have been no problem, but what I did was go as red as a beetroot and radiate heat like a hot pan. You could have cooked a three-course meal on my face.
Claudette and I run to the exit gate as Nancy finished the last generator. She opens the gate. An alarm rotated between about six different annoying noises of varying pitch and ticking. It sounded like a disco for the antichrist. I roll my eyes, "How many matches do you go in? As in daily?". "About 3.." Claudette answered quietly. Bill ran up to the two, scarlet blood that had oozed down his back in thick droplets now spattered on the ground behind him. The blood that had flowed so freely from the severed back now soaked into his cotton clothing like some garish Halloween dummy. But this one was real. "Oh my god! Bill.." I yelled but Claudette silently started healing him with some bandages and pain killers, nothing else you can really do.
"C' mon, kid. Nice sailor outfit." Bill smirked in a teasing manner. I playfully punch Bills arm as Claudette laughs with Bill. Footsteps were rushing towards us, Nancy turned the corner into the exit gate. "He's chasing me. Let's go!" Nancy ran with us three survivors following. Leaving the match. I turn to see an angry clown before everything faded.