Summary: "These nights are getting darker
My claws are getting sharper
I'm strong enough to enter the fray
You were whispering my name
Now I'm finally taking aim
And the predator's becoming the prey
Now the beast has come to play"
-Beast (8 Graves)

A/N: Both of my cats are sick and I've been having a bad tmj flair up. Let's all take a collective round of deep breaths. This will pass.

DOUBLE DISCLAIMER: This chapter features dark themes, read at your own risk pls and tyyyy.

DISCLAIMER:This is a work of fiction. As the author I do not always agree with the actions the characters take. The MC has Haphephobia. The depiction of such in the story may not be entirely accurate and I do not claim it to be so. The depictions of anxiety and OCD are based on my own personal experience and do not apply to the illnesses as a whole. As always there is a violence and gore warning. There will be mentions of various sensitive topics which are updated in the tags, read at your own risk.

November 12, 1983

The cool November air that permeated the interior of Jonathan's 71' Ford Galaxie was so cold that the heating unit was unable to reach into the backseat. It would be easy enough for Tris to blame her trembling shoulders on the frigid weather had Jonathan or Nancy even bothered to ask. But they didn't, so she stayed silent and let the tears fall.

There was no way in hell she could blame Mads for how Eddie had acted when he pulled her from the pool. They were friends after all. It didn't mean the same for Mads when Eddie touched her. Sure, it was important because it used to be – and sometimes still was – scary. For Tris… even though she was sad and angry, his hands on her shoulders nearly short circuited her brain.

Regret formed in her gut like lead as her last words to him floated back to her.

"Besides… It's not like you'd care that much if I died, would you Eddie?"

Eddie hadn't heard her. She had spoken too quietly for him to have even picked up that she had said anything at all. That didn't change the fact that it was wrong and totally unfair to say it. Her jealousy and feelings of rejection were no excuse.

And should they not survive the night, she would have not said goodbye to Mads.

Well, they would all just have to survive then, wouldn't they?

"I want to save that boy."

Jamie Wilson's dark eyes glittered dangerously at the man across the table from him. The man Madison once called 'Papa' – Dr. Brenner. Hop's plan had not coincided with his own, but it did get them inside, and now he was face to face with the man who was responsible for the death of his daughter. The death of his sister-in-law. Possibly the death of his niece – unless she had escaped like El and Madison. And all the other people this monster had attacked and killed. The monster Brenner unleashed.

Jamie had killed men before, and those deaths haunted him daily. The screams – the blood-soaked faces – besieging his dreams. In that time, he was a soldier – older than most, and trying to do what he thought was right – he was at war, and it was kill or be killed. Though, Jamie had never wanted to kill someone as badly as he wanted to kill the man in front of him. He wanted to watch the light bleed from Dr. Brenner's eyes, knowing he was the one who had taken his life from him.

"Bullshit," Jamie said gruffly, leaning back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. He wondered just who was on the other side of the two-way mirror he was situated next to. Who was watching through the cameras in every corner of the room.

This man sure was paranoid.

"You don't believe me?" Brenner asked, polite shock coloring his tone.

"I think what you want is to cover up your mess."

Brenner smiled. He was a good-looking sort of fellow, charming. He could see why Madison was afraid of him. There was something dark and maniacal lurking just beneath the surface of that manicured appearance.

"Tell me, Mr. Wilson," Brenner said, practiced smile returning. "Where is my girl? My daughter? I've lost her. I know that as a father, you would do anything to bring back your own child."

There it was.

There it was.

The darkness was seeping through.

"That's the thing with kids, mister." Jamie tilted his head to look toward the ceiling. "If you lock 'em up, all they'll wanna do is run away. I haven't the foggiest where your girl is. Now, would you know what happened to mine?"

At once, Brenner's face – darkness and all – closed off and he stood. It appeared Jamie wasn't getting any answers today. That suited him just fine. He knew enough of the truth to make sure this place was destroyed. A bland smile crossed his rugged features as Dr. Brenner stormed from the room.

There, alone in the bare interrogation room, Jamie Wilson began to whistle, mournful and slow. The "persuasion" would come soon enough. He could wait.

Agonizing pain exploded across Mads' skull, causing her teeth to sink so deeply into her lip that she drew blood in an attempt to drive away the cries of anguish that threatened to escape her lips. Oh God, it hurt. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

No.

No, she couldn't focus on that.

This pain wasn't real.

She wasn't even here, in the Vale. This was merely her astral form. And she had made it to the Lab.

Mads sat up, scrubbing the grit from her face and eyes to gauge her surroundings. The ache began to ebb, as though it had never been there to begin with. Phantom pain for a phantom's body.

That vile, pulsating Gate stood tall before her, but that seductively pleading voice no longer beckoned to her to cross over. It didn't need to, because she already had. At least, her consciousness had. That was enough.

Now all she had to do was wait.

Somewhere just a few miles away, a boy stood in the dark, shouting for his sister. But she did not hear him because she was far away herself, setting a trap. A trap for a monster who would not be stopped until it was cold and dead at her feet.

When Tris, Jonathan, and Nancy reentered the Byers' residence for the nth time that day they immediately set to work in silence. Tris gathered up all the bulbs from the Christmas lights that were strung up around the house and set about screwing them in. Nancy caught on and quickly began grabbing bulbs by the handful and within moments, they were all reattached. The girls held off from plugging them in; they needed to be sure when the monster was coming for their little group.

"We need to set a trap," Nancy said in a hushed voice, as though she were afraid for someone – or something – to overhear her. "We've got gasoline and a bear trap. All we have to do is set it up and pour the fuel."

"What about weapons?" Tris asked, palming the handle of one of her hunting knives.

"Shotgun, handgun, and baseball bat," Nancy listed, eyes wide.

That was hardly enough firepower to kill that thing – the Demogorgon the kids called it. Like it was a creature from D take out enough of its HP and you were golden.

This wasn't D&D. This was real life.

And that was ultimately more horrifying.

"Well," Tris began, refusing to let her apprehension shine through. "We should give that bat more of an edge. Jonathan, you got any big nails?"

"Uh, maybe," he replied. "What size?"

"Nothing smaller than four inches," she said, and began ransacking the kitchen for old rags.

Jonathan raised his brows at her, but headed off in search of the nails. He would need some rather large ones for the bear trap anyway.

"Bombs," Tris said, feeling Nancy's eyes on her back.

"What?" Nancy asked.

"I'm making bombs."

"How?"

"Bottles, cans, old rags, and some of that gasoline you brought with you," Tris explained, pulling out a stack of old rags and shaking her bangs from her eyes. "Maybe lighter fluid if we can find it."

"Won't that burn the house down?" Nancy asked hesitantly.

Tris let out a laugh and began rummaging through the fridge, pulling out glass bottles and aluminum cans then opening them and dumping their contents down the drain. "And soaking the carpet in gasoline won't? Thought you were smart, Nanc."

Nancy's cheeks stained crimson with embarrassment, and she set about emptying what was left of Tris' findings. Soon they had a meager assortment collected and Jonathan had returned with the nails. He was able to locate some lighter fluid in the shed and thankfully had the sense to bring it inside with him.

Though it was the very purpose they had come back here in the first place, the three teens tried not to think about the people who were very likely on the other side of the gate – maybe even in their exact location – as they continued to assemble their deathtrap in silence.

"What do you know?" the woman – Connie Frazier, he'd seen her snooping around town more than once in the past month – asked harshly, her face a cool mask of disdain.

"I know enough, Ma'am," Jamie said, mimicking her expression with his own.

The torture hadn't come. Jamie should have expected Hop to take that upon himself, he really should have. He was the one who kept breaking in after all, marking himself on the DoE's radar. They could hardly suspect Jamie knew much of anything; other than the fact he was here to help out an old friend.

But he'd had to go and make that stupid comment about Mandy.

"Have you mentioned anything to anyone else? Your wife? Nephew?" Connie asked, a sadistic light brightening her piercing blue eyes.

"No, I haven't." Jamie raised a brow at her. "And have people thinking I'm as crazy as they think Mrs. Byers is? I have a business to run and a family to provide for."

One of the two men who entered the room with Connie caught her eye. Jamie didn't move a muscle. These people were dangerous and there was no telling what they could – or would – do to him if he made any sudden movements.

"What about that girl you have staying with you?"

At once, Jamie's heart stopped. He knew how to hide the terror that would surely leak into his face, his voice, but these people were government agents. They could figure out that Madison's papers were forged. They could figure out that she was one of their missing experiments.

"Just a stray my wife and I took pity on," he explained nonchalantly. "We were gonna help her get back on her feet and send her off. Poor thing was having a hard time of it."

Madison could make them believe her if they got close enough to her and those mind powers – if she had enough energy that is. Jamie didn't want to take any chances.

Connie tapped her foot against the hard tile floor, face screwing up with suspicion. Then the same man made a gesture with his hand, breaking her concentration. If her expression could have looked more pinched in that moment Jamie would have thought she swallowed a lemon.

"The Police Chief made some demands of us," she informed him through gritted teeth.

"I suspected as much," Jamie replied.

"You two and Mrs. Byers wish to find her son."

"That's right."

"And that we should give you whatever you need and that all of this will be forgotten," Connie said ruefully, through clenched teeth. "We will leave you and your families alone, including your stray, so long as you never breathe a word about this to anyone."

A catlike smile inched over Jamie's face as he leaned back in his chair, finally relaxed since the moment the evil woman before him stepped into the room. Hop was a clever one, he always knew it. Perhaps they did differ in some ways, but they always had the same goal.

"Ma'am, you can count on it," Jamie promised.

Moments later, Jamie was reunited with Hop and Joyce and they were quickly escorted by armed guards into a small room lined with hazmat-type suits along the white tiled walls. Joyce was beginning to panic at the scientist's explanation about the toxic atmosphere, but Jamie's hand on her shoulder cut her off mid-sentence.

"Don't think about that right now, Joyce," he murmured, eyeing the room and its decided lack of weapons. "One step at a time. That's how we're going to take this, okay?"

Biting her lips, Joyce nodded and took a suit that was being offered to her by a guard. Jamie and Hop also took their offered suits, dressing quickly before being handed flashlights and ushered off towards an elevator.

Right before the door closed, Jamie stuck his gloved hand through, halting its process.

"What?" one of the guards snapped.

"We need weapons," Jamie said, holding his palm out.

"No can do." The guard smirked.

Jamie took a step toward the man, an easy smile on his face. There was no way in hell they were going down there without any means of defense and he told the man so. It was obvious they believed the three of them would not make it back, but that's where they were wrong.

He was coming back.

And hell would follow with him.

Eyes blazing, Jamie stood toe-to-toe with the young guard, staring him down. He had nearly a head on the young man – who was closer to boyhood than he was Jamie's age. But for all his training he cowed at the fire in the older man's dark eyes.

"Weapons," Jamie repeated, not even bothering to smile. "If we're going to clean up your mess, you're going to give us weapons. There's no telling if there's more creatures like that in there."

When still no one moved he cracked his neck, then his knuckles. "Okay then, which one of you is gonna take my place?"

"That's not part of the—" one of the guards began

"I don't give a shit what the agreement was!" Jamie roared, grabbing the guard who spoke by the collar. "Give me something to burn that place back. And give it to me now."

Only when a flamethrower was securely in his hands and the gas tank strapped to his back – and an automatic rifle was snug in Hop's steady hands – did Jamie's ire cool somewhat. He turned on his heel, took a deep breath and strode forward into the elevator. Into the belly of the beast – the realm of shadows that haunted that little girl he so quickly grew to love. He was going to burn it all to the ground. For her.

Mads could have wept when she saw Jamie step through the gate with Joyce and Hop following close behind. He was like a craggy angel, the gas tank on his back protruding like folded wings. Never in her life had she known a man as good and kind as him. And here he was, in the darkest place known to all of creation and it was for some kid he barely knew.

When he saw her, he hurried over and fell to his knees before her, attempting to gather her in his arms. But Mads' form was barely solid in this realm. It worked opposite to the way she traversed the other side.

There, she was invisible but could interact with the world around her as though she were really there. It took more energy to meld through the space around her. Here in her astral form, she had to fight to keep herself from passing through the world around her. Her corporeal form was visible, but it was as though she were a ghost.

Upside down and backwards like everything else in this place.

"Madison," Jamie whispered gruffly, cupping his hand around the space his hand would meet her cheek.

"I'm here," she said, feeling her emotions clog her throat. They had nowhere else to go. "I-I'm here…"

"Let's get moving," Hop interrupted gruffly, but without malice.

Mads nodded to him and closed her eyes, reaching. Searching for Will.

But he was no longer at Castle Byers. No longer hiding safely away from the creatures who so dearly wished to consume his flesh and bones. Now he was buried down, down, down deep into the archives where Mads had learned of her Papa's origins. Of Dr. Brenner's origins.

And she knew why he had been taken there.

It was the monster's lair, that much was obvious to her. But the vines… those dark pulsating tendrils, they were connected to something much more sinister. To someone. For some reason, the Demogorgon's lair was connected to him. And Mads knew they would never get Will out safely without her.

She just hoped she had enough strength to do what needed to be done.

"The library," she said, looking up at Hop. "He's in the library with the others. You can just get to him if you hurry."

"What about you?" Joyce asked, faltering slightly.

Mads had to give the older woman credit. It was almost as if she sensed what Mads had in mind.

"I'm going to provide a distraction."

Jamie's large hand waved through her form as he tried to grab her, to hold her down.

"No," he protested, expression fierce. "Absolutely not. I won't allow it."

Joyce and Hop must not know about 001 yet then… Maybe that was for the best. But Mads needed to protect them from him. Whatever he wanted with Will – to drain him of his life force and collect him like the kids in the Lab, or something else – she knew they would be no match for him. Even she, with all her gathered power, was barely a threat.

"You need to hurry," she said with finality and stood to her feet.

Hop, grim and somber, nodded and pulled Jamie to his feet. Ignoring his protests, Mads' form began to dissipate, shimmering around the edges. She flickered once, twice, and then she was gone, leaving behind nothing but a faint glimmer.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Tris protested, yanking her knife out of Nancy's hand. "Don't cut your palm! Only stupid people do that in the movies."

"Then where do you suggest we do it?" Nancy snapped, panic and irritation coloring her expression.

"The arm? Inner thigh?" Tris suggested, pointing to those areas with the blade. "Palm has too many tendons and you use it too much. It will take longer to heal."

"So, you're suggesting what? We slit our wrists?" Jonathan scoffed incredulously.

Tris rolled her eyes and yanked off her leather jacket, tossing it onto the striped sheet couch. Then she brought the previously sterilized blade to her skin and took a deep breath, before slicing it shallowly over her skin.

Air hissed between her teeth as white-hot pain like she'd never felt before burned up her arm. Blood quickly welled up over her freckled skin and slowly dripped onto the floor – plip, plip, plip – as Nancy and Jonathan looked on in horror.

"F-fuck that hurts…" Tris said, trembling. "Can y-you get me some bandages?"

Unable to respond verbally, Jonathan hurried to grab the first aid kit and Nancy took the knife from Tris' shaking hand, dousing it with rubbing alcohol and wiping it clean. The cut Tris gave herself was shallow enough, but it burned and itched, even after she bandaged it.

She watched in a daze as Jonathan and Nancy discarded their coats and repeated the process. Shallow cut, bandage, clean. Shallow cut, bandage, clean. The blood on the carpet alone would have been enough to attract the Demogorgon, but the more blood they spilled the likelier it would be drawn to their location.

Once again, rubbing her hand over her bandaged wound, Tris felt like a third wheel. Nancy and Jonathan sat, hands intertwined, waiting for the Demogorgon to scent their fresh blood. Tris – her jacket back in place like a piece of armor – slid her knife back into its sheath ignoring the romantically charged conversation behind her.

Ignoring her own hurt and anger towards a certain dark-haired boy.

The rifle was loaded, the revolver was loaded, the bombs were prepared and waiting to be used. Her knives were just waiting to sink into the flesh of the Demogorgon. Yeah, she wanted that thing dead. It had killed too many townsfolk. It had hurt Robin's friend. It was probably under the control of that asshole 001 that couldn't keep his nasty mitts off Mads.

It deserved to die.

And she wanted to be the one to bring that about.

Anger was nothing new to Tris Buckley. It had been a hot, festering thing in her chest since she was a little girl whose mother didn't know when to stop preening and primping her. Forcing her to parade in front of leering or hypercritical judges for ribbons and cheap plastic trophies. And she swallowed it every day like a poison.

Until she'd had enough.

That day was so explosive that her mother didn't speak to her for months. Tris had slashed her bleach blonde hair to a blunt edge at the chin – extensions and all, ripped off her fake nails, and torched her hacked-up pageant gowns on her father's grill. The only thing she left untouched was her precious cello she had learned for the talent portion of most pageants. She was only ten, but she didn't care about her mother's silent treatment so long as she wasn't forced into clothing she hated or the damaging rays of sun for hours until her tan was "perfect". Her anger had been so destructive that her mother hadn't dared to set in on Robin as Tris' replacement.

And it had never really gone away, no matter how much she buried it. No matter what color or cut she styled her currently shaggy brown hair, or how many stick n' poke tattoos she gave herself while high. It settled there, buried in her chest, just waiting to be let out.

A flurry of loud knocks thundered at Jonathan's front door causing he and Nancy to fly apart. The person on the other side continued to pound their fist against the door before announcing themselves. They were all shocked at the sound of Steve Harrington's voice on the other side of the door.

"Harrington?" Tris hissed at Nancy, who gaped like a fish at the closed door.

"Listen," Steve called through the door. "I just want to talk!"

Fuck this. Tris thought and removed one of her hunting knives from its sheath, storming up to the door as her fury mounted. This idiot's gonna get himself killed!

"Hey, Harrington," Tris crowed with false cheeriness when she opened the door a few inches. "Listen, now's not the best time so why don't you run along and chase after your dickwad friends, 'kay?"

"T-Trix?" Steve stammered as though he were surprised to see her standing there, nose to nose with him.

His face was battered and bruised, like he'd been in a fight. Much like Jonathan. Interesting.

"It's 'Tris', but brownie points for trying." Her expression belied the playfulness of her words.

"I-is Jonathan there? I need to talk to him."

Tris, rolling her eyes, peaked back over her shoulder at Nancy and Jonathan who shook their heads violently. The action caught Steve's eye, though his visibility into the house was limited, and he pushed his way past Tris and into the Byers' living room.

"Jonathan, I need to… Nancy? What are—" he paused, looking between the two.

Tris' knuckles went white around the handle of her knife. A lightbulb to her right began to flicker faintly and sweat broke out across her forehead. Her heart began to pound so loudly that she could barely hear Nancy yelling at Steve to leave.

"What is going on?" he demanded, waving his hands around at the obviously crazy décor.

Then Nancy pulled her revolver on him, shocking the entire group.

"You have five seconds to get out of here," Nancy said, steel in her tone.

Tris had to give it to her, she had balls.

That's when all hell broke loose. The unplugged Christmas lights began to flicker violently – similarly to what happened when Mads used her powers – and Nancy began to wave the gun around carelessly. She was going to get them all shot!

A sharp crack brought Tris' attention to the right corner of the house, just above where the plywood was affixed to the hole Joyce had gouged in the wall. The ceiling, insulation and all, collapsed, revealing a familiar corpse-like creature.

Its gleeful cry nearly turned Tris' bowels to water.

Then the anger in her chest reared its ugly head and she lunged for the nearest bomb and cigarette lighter, setting it aflame. She watched it blaze for half a second before raising it over her head.

"Hey fuckface," she called – lip curled and teeth bared – drawing its attention to her. "Eat shit!"

And she let the bomb fly.

It exploded across the Demogorgon's skin in a web of glass and flame. Its screeching cries rang loudly in their ears, but none of them had a chance to cover them before Nancy began shooting directly into the soft flesh of its mouth.

That only angered it, and the beast lurched towards them – its rotten corpse and pond scum scent only heightened by its burns.

"Run!" Tris screamed, grabbing Nancy around the waist and yanking her back towards Will's bedroom. She could only pray the two boys were following.

The lights continued to flicker wildly as they ran – leaping over the trap in the hall as their feet squelched in the gas-soaked carpet – slamming the door behind them. The only thing they could hear was the wounded warble of the creature as it made its way down the hall. As the smiley-face yo-yo slowly pulled over the chair they'd carefully placed in front of the door.

Then suddenly, all was quiet.

This time when Mads' form reappeared her head didn't hurt. In fact, she felt lighter than air. The sky rumbled with dark thundering clouds, lit momentarily purple by intermittent flashes of lighting that illuminated the playset she had appeared next to.

The same playset Mads had appeared by when 001 had called her through the Vale.

A fetid gust of wind whipped around her, through her, as though even that could not touch this form. Above her loomed that old Victorian-style house with the stained-glass rose in the door. The one 001 had tried to trap her in. Bat-like creatures fluttered around its roof, paying her astral form little mind.

Mads took a hesitant step towards the house and the door creaked open like a dark gaping maw, hiding venom and teeth.

A soft tune lilted through the doorway, soft and comforting. Like a large hand running over her shorn scalp, tucking her into her cot. Bright blue eyes shining with pride under a halo of lustrous blond curls. Starched white collars and perfectly shined leather shoes.

Mads' throat began to close up as tears blurred her vision. Oh, Peter…

Then the lyric-less tune began to form words, transporting her back to her too-small body in that fluorescent lit room where she curled up to hide away from 002 and his underlings. From Papa and his constant disappointment.

Papa hadn't bothered to repair the camera in her room. Not since she'd broken it for the third time in a row the day before. She had been sent to bed early that evening because a fight had broken out between her and 002 over a puzzle. It had been assigned to her during their rainbow room time before bed, but he wanted to play with it and took it from her.

009 had known better than to fight with 002 with her mind – she wasn't strong enough yet. All she could do was tell others what to do. And travel a little. That had made 002 angry, which was probably why he had stolen her puzzle.

She did, however, punch him square in the mouth.

The feeling of his soft flesh breaking under her bony fist sent a thrill through her. An undeniable thrill unlike nothing she'd ever felt. Her tiny hand flexed from the sting, but also from the insatiable desire to see more of his blood spilling from his mouth.

The wooden pieces of the puzzle clattered to the floor loudly as 002 fell in a heap. He quickly leapt to his feet, ready to strike out at her with his mind, but Peter and two other orderlies jumped into the fray. Both children knew better than to lash out at one of them.

The last experiment to do that had to wear the collar. Nobody wanted to wear the collar.

"009," Papa's voice rang through the room, causing her head to swivel toward him. "Bedtime immediately. Rainbow room privileges are revoked until you can keep your hands to yourself. One of you escort 009 to her room please."

Something akin to shame filled her and tears welled in her eyes as Papa's tall form stormed over to 002, checking him over for injury. She had thought after she traveled that she might be a little more special to him than 002, that he wouldn't get to bully her so much, but that had only made it worse. And Papa paid no mind.

Only Peter did.

Only Peter cared about her.

The two orderlies who had rushed in to help Peter eyed her warily, before Peter flashed his bright smile at them and offered to escort her to her room. Papa made no protest as most of the orderlies were still afraid of her after her travel into the darkness. Peter was the only one who would be alone with her.

Secretly, she was pleased about that.

Back in her room, Peter had helped her get ready for bed and tucked her in, wiping the silent tears from her eyes. They hadn't spoken a word to each other. 009 wondered if he knew the camera was broken and that he was allowed to talk to her. To hold her hand.

And then, he sat down in the hard metal chair next to her little cot and began to sing. Surprised, it was all 009 could do to sit still and listen. Peter had a very nice voice, deep and rich, but soft. Much like the voice he spoke with. It was comforting to her, soothing.

Nobody else got to have Peter singing to them. Nobody else got to have Peter as their special friend. Even if Peter hated Papa, or sang about scary things like spiders. He had shown her a spider once. It had snuck into the corner of the sick room and made a web.

Instead of killing it like 009 had begged him to, he pulled it down from its web and let it crawl all over his hands as he told her about all its body parts and venom. An odd light had shone in his eyes then. The very same light that shone when he praised her, or talked about how powerful they would be together when they ran away.

The song he sang now was about a spider.

A blooming, bloody spider.

009 thought of the blood that trickled off of 002's lip when she hit him. Of the small spider crawling over Peter's large hands. Of its web in the sick room.

"The blooming, bloody spider went up the spider web,

The blooming, bloody rain came down and washed the spider out,

The blooming, bloody sun came out and dried up all the rain,

And the blooming, bloody spider came up the web again…"

Mads scrubbed at her burning eyes, blinking against the tears of betrayal and dejection as she made her way towards those gaping jaws of a doorway. She would not cry now. Not over this. Now was the time to be strong. She could always cry later, if she survived.

A finger hooked under her chin when she reached the threshold, causing her to tilt her face upwards until her gaze met with another of bright blue fire.

"Hello, little spider," 001 whispered, his form whole and beautiful.

"Hello, Peter," Mads whispered back.

He gazed down at her a moment, looking every inch the angel wreathed in white. Once again, he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. So perfect, so gentle. Just like he was when she was a child. It would be so easy to join him…

So, so easy.

However, that hungry light was shining in his eyes again, and she knew it would never be that easy. Never be quite right. But Mads did not fight him when he took her by the hand and pulled her through the doorway into that decaying carcass of a house. She did not turn back when the door swung shut behind them. She did not flinch when his fingertips came to rest upon her eyelids. And when her body seized up and the darkness overtook her vision once more, she welcomed it.

The Hair was having a breakdown, shaking and shouting and carrying on. But Tris could have cared less. The Demogorgon had escaped without becoming caught in their trap. They had failed to kill it… But they had succeeded in pissing it off, so that meant it would be back. If she learned anything from Mads about this creature, it was that it held a grudge.

"Would you two shut the hell up?" Tris shouted at Nancy and Steve, who were still bickering over him calling for help. "Harrington, if you're not gonna be useful then go. I'm not having you get in the way a second time. Nancy, make sure you have extra bullets on you, for the love of God."

With that, she shoved an extra cigarette lighter in the pocket of her jeans and grabbed hold of two homemade bombs, shoving one in her back pocket. Then she allowed herself to exhale.

Steve had left after slamming down the phone, still a shaking mess. Tris couldn't blame him for that. Though, she had no qualms blaming him if he got one of them killed. Or himself. But she couldn't think about that now. It would be coming back. And she had to be more than a sidekick reserved for comedic relief.

She had to be brave.

Tris thought she was prepared when the lights began to flicker once more. She, Jonathan, and Nancy stood backs facing each other – weapons at the ready. But the stupid thing wouldn't show itself.

"C'mon!" Tris screamed at the flashing bulbs, her panic and anger rising with each erratic flicker.

"Come on out, you son of a bitch," Jonathan goaded, brandishing the baseball bat.

All the lights were flashing now, leaving them engulfed in the darkest darkness for seconds at a time. Each of them knew that those few seconds of darkness could mean certain death for one or all of them.

"C'mon!" she screamed again just as the lights flickered for the last time before going completely dark.

It only took a second for Tris to realize why it had become so dark, and the Demogorgon's soft, almost happy, warble resounded in front of her. Fear shot through her like ice water and her hands fumbled to ignite the cigarette lighter as the smell of rotting flesh and scummy water filled her senses.

However, the creature didn't lunge for her, instead tackling Jonathan to the ground while the lights flickered back on, illuminating his certain demise.

"No!" Tris shouted, still struggling with the lighter. Why had she grabbed the fucking cheap plastic one?

The sound of Nancy's revolver firing into the creature's hide was the only thing that could be heard over the sound of Jonathan's cries of pain and fear.

"Go to hell, you son of a bitch!" Nancy yelled, as the Demogorgon turned on her.

From Tris' calculations the other girl only had a few bullets left and they were doing a whole lot of nothing against it as it backed her into the kitchen. Cornering her.

Abandoning the lighter, Tris unsheathed a knife and threw it directly at the monster's back. Terror settled in her gut as it glanced off the Demogorgon's back, clattering to the floor with finality. But it had turned on her instead of Nancy. She had saved her, if only for a moment.

Chest heaving, she scrambled for the other lighter she'd stored in the front pocket of her jeans. A better one. One she barely had to touch to ignite.

Just before the creature lunged at her, the bat covered in nails swung across its featureless face out of nowhere, sending it to the side a few steps.

"Harrington?" Tris asked incredulously, centimeters away from lighting her bomb on fire, as Nancy shouted, "Steve?"

The Hair was back, shockingly. What was even more shocking, was that he was literally beating the Demogorgon back with the bat. He was hurting it. Steve Harrington who nearly pissed his pants if Mads so much as looked at him the wrong way was beating back an interdimensional monster with nothing but a nail bat.

Well shit. She had to up her game then.

With a resounding smack, Steve launched the monster backwards, the bear trap slamming shut around its hind leg, the teeth slicing into its leg.

"It's in the trap!" Steve cried hurrying back a few steps.

This time, Tris was able to light the bomb with no issue and before anyone else could move a muscle, flung it straight into the Demogorgon's wailing maw.

The result was explosive. Flame erupted down the monster's body, igniting the walls and carpet in a foul mix of burning decay and carpet fiber. The heat was nearly unbearable as they shielded their eyes from the smoke and flame to watch the monster burn.

A wicked sort of satisfaction filled Tris, washing over her from head to toe. She felt powerful, brave. Finally, she had done something important. Finally, she had done something useful.

But when Jonathan extinguished the fire, when the powder from the extinguisher dissipated, a sinking feeling settled over the four of them. The Demogorgon was gone, leaving behind only a scorched carpet and wood paneling.

So this was the belly of the beast… The Hawkins library was coated with those horrible pulsing vines. Mads had told Jamie all about those vines when she recounted her experiences in this place. About how she was wary of touching them. He figured they would do well to be wary of them too.

That proved difficult though, when those blasted things were all over the goddamned place.

Fortunately, they were all able to move through the infested building without trampling on too many. Jamie had to suppress a shudder, though. The whole network reminded him of a living spider web. He hated spiders.

Ever since he caught that Creel boy playing with a black widow on that playground down the road from his motel. Of course, creepy crawlies had always been a nuisance… but the way that boy allowed such a dangerous arachnid to crawl over his hands – his arms – sent a horrific chill up Jamie's spine. He'd never been able to look at a spider without thinking of that strange boy since.

And then the tragedy that followed.

Jamie shook his head, banishing the memories. They didn't bear thinking about. Not now.

The inside of the library was almost worse than the outside. The same, skin-like webbing from the Gate, from all over this dimension, coated the building from floor to ceiling. Jamie couldn't help but connect the look of it to a tunneling spider's web.

Spiders again.

And then they saw the bodies.

Some of the men he knew – he and Hop both – covered in that sickening, fleshy web substance. Strung up on the walls, cemented to the floor, mouths gaping wide. Each emaciated as though they had been drained of their life force.

Jamie had to reach deep inside of himself, to that man who'd lived through a bloodbath so as not to be sick inside this god-awful hazmat suit. There were so many bodies here, all the people who had gone missing over the past few days… How were they ever going to find Will?

Joyce's cry of alarm echoed in the quiet space, like a cacophony of horror whispering from around each corner, in the depths of each web.

"Will!"

The boy was strung up on the wall, and Jamie understood at once why each corpse had its mouth gaping open. One of those very same vines they had taken such care to avoid was attached to Will's mouth, and probably straight down his throat. Draining him from the inside out. His hair was sweat slicked to his forehead and he was as pale as a ghost. As pale as Mads when he and Pam had found her bleeding in her bathroom at the motel.

"Oh my God," Joyce cried, scrabbling with the vine. Trying to pull it from her boy's mouth. "Hopper, get it out! You need to help get it out!"

Jamie caught Hop's eye and nodded, making sure his flamethrower was ready as Hop steadied Will. Then he began to pull. And pull. And pull. The vine began to resemble something more like an octopus' tentacle with its suckers attached to Will's lips, threatening to tear skin were they not careful.

With each painstaking tug, more and more of the thing revealed itself. It was hideous and smelled of rot. Jamie could scarcely believe how much of it was wound up in the poor boy's innards. And when Hop finally pulled it free, it began to writhe violently in his hands.

"Now!" Jamie cried and Hop threw the appendage to the ground, watching in horror as it thrashed on the ground before them, reaching back towards Will.

Instead of its intended target, the tentacle was met with a burst of flame. The smell of it burning was so strong it wafted through their suits, causing all three adults to gag, even Joyce who was trying to revive her son.

Then Hopper took over, attempting CPR, and instructed Joyce to breathe into the boy's paralyzed lungs. Neither of them heard what Jamie had. Neither saw him whip around, flamethrower at the ready.

A thundering roar, barely discernible over the thunder-cracks outside. But for Jamie, that sound made his blood run cold. It was a cry of pain and anguish. It was a cry of rage. And the older man worried for the girl he knew was confronting a monster.

Mads had been expecting the pretty dining room again; the same illusion 001 had trapped her in before. But he was smarter than that. She had worked that puzzle without too much effort, and he wasn't going to let her go that easily a second time.

This place, with its ominous red sky and skeletal remains of the house she had so willingly entered couldn't be anything less than 001's own mind. The bodies of her experimental siblings tethered to the bones of the house told her everything she needed to know.

"They are with me always now." 001's words from a few weeks ago floated to the forefront of her mind.

His kills… They stayed with him. Mads was sure if she concentrated hard enough, she would find more bodies melding into the woodwork – though it was likely these were just illusions. Meant to scare her. Frighten her into submission.

"Do you like it?" 001's soft voice breathed onto the back of her neck.

She shuddered involuntarily. Or these images were meant to entice.

"It's magnificent, isn't it?" he asked, voice full of awe. "Of course, they're not really here with us. They're just projections of the memory, unfortunately. But they are with me all the same – they make me stronger, have made me stronger."

Mads was silent, staring into the bloodied, eyeless face of 002, the boy who so relentlessly tormented her and so many others. She searched for some sort of satisfaction in his death – she had hated him after all – but none came. Just pity. For 002 or herself she wasn't quite sure.

"I created this for you, for us." 001's hands came to rest on her shoulders, turning her away from the grisly sight before them.

When his eyes met hers, Mads saw a flash of filmy irises before they settled on the clear, angelic blue that haunted her. A flash of singed, mottled skin before it smoothed into a healthy golden tan. Stringy, balding hair before his lovely curls settled on his crown.

"It's glorious," she breathed, her fingers finding purchase on the collar of his white shirt.

And it was in a way.

A sick, twisted way that excited her, though it repulsed her much more.

"Do I have one too? A place like this?" Mads asked, projecting awe and reverence into her voice.

"I'm sure you do." 001's breath hitched, his tongue wetting his lips. "I helped you kill those men Papa sent after you, did you know that? You and I are so alike… With each life we take we become stronger. Their power becomes our own, they become a part of us. Even without the killing, you would have been so strong, so perfect. I had to help you kill them though, you need to become even stronger."

Mads fought to keep the revulsion out of her face at his words. At the sight of the hunger in his expression.

She had to get away.

She had to run.

But Will wasn't safe yet. Jamie wasn't safe yet. Joyce and Hop weren't safe yet.

There wasn't any time to waste. Mads swallowed down any disgust and tightened her grasp on 001, on Peter. Forcing herself to think of him as the man who took care of her, protected her, loved her.

He loved her.

He still loved her in his own sick way. The kind of love that causes one to cage and lie and harm the object of their affection. It wasn't the only way he had been shown how to love, but it was the way he latched on to with his twisted vile heart.

"You mean I can become like you?" Mads asked, her heart in her throat.

Fire blazed in 001's eyes, burning like a dying star. "If you join me, I can make you stronger than you could ever dream."

"Oh Peter…" Mads' voice cracked as her throat closed in on itself.

"Have you finally changed your mind? You've finally seen reason?"

Though she wanted to, Mads could not answer for she was fighting against the confines of 001's mind to make sure Jamie was safe, that Will was safe. And they were still in the depths of the library. Still attempting their rescue.

It was no easy feat, maneuvering in 001's mind. Especially now that his focus was on her and her alone. But that was right where she wanted him. In her arms, weaving a deal with her – his downfall, his devil.

"What can I do to make you see how much I need you with me?" he pleaded, trailing his knuckles down her cheekbone, her scarred neck. The place he'd marked her, connecting them forever in more ways than one.

Rage boiled within her, but she channeled that rage into passion. Or at least some version of it.

"You've hurt me over and over," Mads whispered, not trusting herself to speak any louder. "How do I know you won't hurt me again?"

"I've only hurt you because you defied me…" 001 breathed, pulling her forehead to his lips. "Should you refrain from that, I would have no reason to harm you. Or any pets you should choose to keep."

There it was again. That stupid pet line.

Like she would want to keep Eddie or Tris as a pet. They were her friends, not her playthings. But 001 wouldn't know the difference.

"A-and… How should I know what not to do?" she asked, playing along.

The answering smile 001 gave her was anything but pretty. Though Mads was sure he meant to be disarming, she now had the discernment to see the dangerous glimmer beneath the geniality of the expression.

"We shall have a good long while to work that out, won't we?" he replied, lifting her chin.

Before Mads could respond to that, positively or negatively, the small tether she had connected to Jamie tugged with an intense emotional response. Panic, fear, disgust. They must have found Will. She wondered if she could see his small body somewhere in this graveyard, because 001 was certainly sucking away his life force.

And 001 noticed her falter – the change in her demeanor. His grip on her chin grew rough, pinching into her flesh, straining her jawbone. Instead of grabbing his wrist and yanking herself from his grasp like she so desperately wanted to do, she allowed her lip to tremble – showing him the fear and reverence he craved from her.

Time. She needed more time. Joyce needed more time to save Will.

"And me," Mads blurted, drawing 001 from his concentration. "What can I do to show you my loyalty? To show you that you can trust me?"

"Oh, darling," he murmured, eyes blazing. "I'm so pleased you asked, so very pleased."

As soon as the words left his lips, Mads regretted speaking. To say she was afraid would be an understatement – the understatement of the century. Terror froze her from the inside out, though her heart was pounding hot, red blood through her arteries. Nausea churned in her gut as the maniacal light returned to his eyes, as he wetted his lips once again.

"Accept our connection. Allow me that space in your mind we cleaved together the night you fled from me."

Oh no, not that. Anything but that.

But she could feel the urgency of Jamie's thoughts; she had no time left to waste, faltering over her own safety. This was the only thing she could do to distract him, to keep the other's safe. Eddie and Tris were going to give her hell.

Mads could only pray that this would distract him enough for them to get Will out unnoticed.

"O-okay…" she agreed, nodding as she held his gaze. "I… just… do whatever it is you need to do."

001 smiled that soft smile he reserved only for the two of them and placed his fingers over her eyes yet again. "This will only sting a little," he promised.

He lied.

It burned. Screaming agony exploded through the front of Mads' skull, and she could feel blood running from her nose in rivulets, dripping down her chin, coating 001's hand that held her in place. It felt as though he were actually carving out a space for himself in her mind, rooting himself deep into her brain so she couldn't be rid of him.

A low moan of pain escaped her and she fell into his arms. He breathed a chuckle into her hair, rubbing circles into her back. It was done. The barrier she had once subconsciously erected in her mind against him was now crumbled into dust and he had taken root.

This was not the outcome she had hoped for, but she could do little about it now.

"There now," he purred as he held her close. "Was that so difficult?"

Mads could not reply – the elation 001 felt was overwhelming her senses, dulling her speech. Dulling everything about her until she wasn't sure where she ended and he began. Until she was swallowed up, up, up until she was no more.

No.

He didn't want that.

She was supposed to fight back.

She was supposed to be stronger than that.

Oh, she would show him just how strong she had become. She would show him how much she had grown since he had left her scarred and broken. That she was more than the malleable little child who'd run from him, bleeding.

With renewed determination Mads drew herself up and pulled away from him, backing away. There was no going back, but she could trap him as much as he had trapped her. Immediately, as her feet squelched across the spongy ground, Mads began constructing barriers in her mind, watching as he advanced on her. Now that he was no longer touching her, Mads' mind became clearer.

Watching as relief washed over him. Had he thought she was dying?

Please, oh, please don't let him notice what she was doing.

Keep him focused on her form, not her mind.

When her back bumped up against one of those rot covered pillars, Mads' heart dipped to her toes, hurtling down into the core of this godforsaken place. And 001 was upon her yet again, caging her against the rot that seeped through her astral form's clothing, grasping her jaw roughly in a hand sticky with her own blood – triumph flashing across his face – his teeth bared.

He had her trapped like an insect in a spider's web and he could see the terror on her face. He relished in it, watching her eyes roll wildly in their sockets as she searched for any way of making her escape – before he could ruin more than just her mind.

Oh so gently, he tilted her face up to meet his – his large frame nearly doubled over to reach her height – and she could feel his breath on her lips.

However, before he could bring his lips to hers something flashed across his face. Something like confusion and pain mixed as one. And she knew, Mads knew, that Jamie had done it. That they had rescued Will.

Suddenly Mads felt a tingling sensation along her left hand, as though someone was there, wrapping their pinky finger around hers.

Quickly, with all the roughness and inexperience she possessed, Mads dug her hands into 001's hair, dragging his attention back to her – her mouth, her body, anything. Anything, anything, anything. For a second, it seemed that was enough to distract him.

As his gaze fell upon her parted lips, large hands tightening on her body. Mads suppressed a shudder, the desire to be sick. Then the smell of smoke began to assail her nostrils, and she knew it was almost over.

"Did you know, Peter," she whispered, letting her own gaze linger on his mouth for a fraction too long. "That in most species of spiders, the female eats her mate alive?"

With that, she put the very last piece in place, walling 001 up in her mind, blocking him from the very thing he wished to control – the outside world. Now he only had access to her, and only her. That would have to be enough.

His eyes darkened, glazing over with decay and rage – and something more, something Mads refused to put a name to. "Ah, ah, ah my little spider… in some rare cases, the male eats the female alive."

The thunder overhead steadily grew louder until it reached a deafening crescendo, and 001's form began to morph and change. A roar of pain built in the back of his throat, reaching the same volume as the thunder until Mads couldn't hear anything else.

Elongated, rotting, claw-tipped fingers wrapped themselves around her throat as she bared her teeth up at the man – no – the monster above her. He was no longer the beautiful man who took care of her. His human disguise had melted away, leaving only his true form behind. Festering and evil.

A scream tore from her throat as 001 raised a clawed hand from her scarred neck and brought it down in a quick slash, burying his nails into her skull. The pain ripped through her; Mads could feel her skin split, her muscles tear beneath his claws. Feel the blood drip, drip, drip down onto the feted ground they stood upon.

"One day, Madison, you will be by my side. I will have you," 001 promised, his gravelly voice filling her ears.

And then he ripped his claws from her head, splattering the ground with her blood. Her body fell along with it. The last thing she heard was 001's cry of anguish and pain as her consciousness faded from this realm.

Then, before she was ready, her body was hauled from the pool, splattering the gym floor with salt water as her gasps filled the quiet space.

Weed, leather, sweat. A multitude of hair products.

Eddie.

He had rescued her.

Oh, Eddie.

"We've gotta hide!" he whispered feverishly, pulling her body across the floor.

Curses and oaths in his familiar, comforting voice never sounded so welcoming. She was safe. Safe, safe, safe.

"Mads," Eddie whispered, shaking her harder as he dragged her. "They're here. They're coming for El."

Oh. Shit.

At once, Mads pulled her aching body to attention, steadying herself on her feet. Eddie still held her at arm's length in case she fell, watching her with wary eyes. His hair was a total mess, and she would have laughed had Papa not been on his way to capture El. And possibly her, if Hop was behind this.

The pair shared a nod and ran, one armed only with a hunting rifle and the other her mind. They would protect themselves and the kids with everything they had. Even if it killed them. Death and danger were no strangers to these children, not anymore. And neither was Hell, for Mads had just escaped it. Or had she?

A/N: So, 001 is a creep we have established this. I write him this way bc of the "grooming" behavior I picked up on watching his interactions with El. I understand JCB is hot n all, but I cannot stress enough that there is not going to be a sexual or romantic relationship between him and Mads. If she was over 18 I would maybe consider it. She's not though, so please keep that in mind. I don't want y'all to be concerned about that.

In case you haven't noticed, there is only two "chapters" left. One of which is the epilogue. Thank you for sticking with me up and till now. Ily guys. Pls don't forget to drink water, meditate, and stretch every so often. It will literally save your lives lol.

Chapter title is taken from "Grew Up Fast" by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers on the 1996 studio album "Songs and Music from 'She's the one'", for the film "She's the One".

The summary is taken from "Beast" by 8 Graves on the 2019 album "White (Instrumentals)".

Thanks for the favorites, follows, and reviews! I appreciate each one! (Please don't forget to leave a review if you liked the story so far!)

Also, here is the mini mixtape for the final chapters, since we're about to wrap things up soon!:
playlist/2w0Fg6UPmVvj5L3EIMRYfw?si=fd523c888f364bc5

This is the "mixtape" I created for this fic. It's not entirely period accurate, but I feel like these songs fit the theme of the show and characters.
playlist/2w0Fg6UPmVvj5L3EIMRYfw?si=d8e38810c96f4875