He walked with purpose, head bent low against the frigid breeze blowing against his back. A light dusting of late February snow obscured the ground, but he knew exactly where he was headed. Though he had only been a few times over the years, the directions were burned into his mind in that special place reserved for all that things that keep him up at night. Turning off the main path, he made his way down a row of neat, uniform headstones, counting off the markers as he passed. Fifteen spaces in from the road, he stopped and bent low, inspecting the marker.
Wiping a hand across the face of the gravestone, clearing the snow away, he revealed the name embossed on raised bronze letters.
Dr. Martin Brenner
Lowering the hood of his thick winter coat, Mike Wheeler stared down in disgust at the name.
"Hello Dr. Brenner.", he spat. "It's been a while. I just wanted you to know that I still remember. The rest of the world has forgotten you and everything you tried to accomplish in life, but not me."
He looked around at the hallowed grounds surrounding him, the weight of the place hardening his resolve.
"You don't deserve a resting place like this. Arlington is supposed to be a place for heroes who gave their lives in service and defense of this country. Not evil bastards like you, who stole children and tried to tear the world apart. You must have had some powerful friends in high places to be laid to rest as a civilian hero, but they've moved on and abandoned you."
He took a deep breath, leaning closer, feeling somehow the Dr. could hear him that much better. "I know there's nothing I can do to you now, but I have enough evidence gathered to destroy what's left of you. Your golden name will become a bloody smudge on this country's history. I could release it and finish you off right now, but I have something to finish first. For now, I must content myself with the thought that, if there is any justice in the world, you're burning in an eternal consuming fire."
He chuckled to himself as he reached into the pocket of his coat, retrieving a single Eggo waffle and laid it on his gravestone. "Here, heat this up for me."
"She loved Eggos, you know. Such a simple thing, but she loved them from the very start. I think it was the first thing she ate that wasn't something you gave her first. It was an act of defiance, consuming the outside world you tried so hard to hide from her. She left the lab, ready to face an unknown future, because she saw you for what you really were. She was prepared to die for someone she barely knew before she would face returning to your little house of horrors."
He shuddered, a mix of the cold wind and painful memories coursing through him. He hadn't had a good night's sleep in almost fifteen years, since that horrible night she disappeared. The nightmare of her final moments, tearing apart the demogorgon and dragging it out of this world. A part of him died that night, drug out of the world with her. He only hoped, wherever she was, that part of him was with her to give her comfort and warmth in the dark.
A sadistic grin spread across Mike's face. "My fondest memory was watching that thing climb out of the wall and spring on you. For the briefest moment, as we turned to run, I saw pure terror on your face. Above the gunfire and running feet, I heard your anguished screams as thousands of razor teeth tore into your flesh."
Calming once more, he went on. "I know she's still out there, somewhere. I don't know when I will find her, but I will find her. I promised to bring her home and I will not rest until I keep that pledge. I promised her a dance and I mean to make good. When I bring her home, I will show her where her Papa is laid to rest. Together, we will stand right here and we will dance on your grave. We will dance until security drags us away. And then, we are going to live."
Rising to his feet, Mike gave the stone a final, hard look. "Shine up those dancing shoes Dr. Brenner, I'll be back with your little girl. Enjoy the Eggo; they're pretty good."
At that, he raised his hood once more and started back across the lawn, headed for his rental car. His flight was in a few hours, and back home, he knew he had several new leads to follow up on. Behind him, three ravens flew down from a tree and began to tear apart the waffle, squawking at each other as they fought over the scraps. To Mike's ears, it sounded like Brenner's dying cries. And he smiled.