Dove sat at the kitchen table, absentmindedly pushing her cereal around the bowl with her spoon. Across the room, Dustin was acting anything but calm. He sat at the edge of his seat, his eyes darting nervously between his breakfastand the clock ticking on the wall. His silence was deafening, and the tension between them had grown thick since the night before.

"You sure everything's okay?" Dove finally asked, trying to keep her voice steady as she eyed him suspiciously. She couldn't ignore the feeling that something was wrong—really wrong.

Dustin looked up, a tight smile on his face. "Yeah, everything's fine. Will's fine." He sounded almost convincing, but Dove knew better.

Dove sighed, setting her spoon down and folding her arms on the table. "Dustin, what happened to Will really freaked me out yesterday. And Dart? How fast he's growing is.. unnatural. He's not the same creature we found in the trash."

"He's still Dart, Dove. I've got him under control. He's not dangerous," he insisted, though the edge in his voice told a different story.

Dove stared at him, her chest tightening with concern. She wanted to believe him, to trust that her little brother had things under control, but the truth was clear—Dart was evolving, and not in a good way. The image of his growing legs and strange movements replayed in her mind, leaving her unsettled.

"You know this is getting serious, right?" Dove said softly. "If we don't deal with it now, something bad is going to happen."

Dustin's face flushed with frustration, and for a moment, he looked ready to snap. But instead, he shoved his chair back and stood up, grabbing his backpack. "I can handle it, Dove. Just trust me."

Dove's heart sank as she watched him walk away, his lunchbox tucked securely under his arm. The nagging feeling that something terrible was coming only grew stronger as she pedaled toward the school.

By the time Dove arrived at Hawkins High, her mind was still spinning with everything that had happened that morning. She couldn't shake the worry that Dustin was in over his head, that Dart was more dangerous than they realized. And now, that fear hung over her like a storm cloud, coloring every moment of her day.

As she made her way through the crowded hallways, heading for her locker, she felt a familiar presence nearby—one that sent a chill down her spine.

Billy Hargrove.

Dove's shoulders tensed as she spotted Billy leaning against the lockers further down the hall, his smirk as sharp and smug as always. His eyes flicked toward her, and for a moment, their gazes met. His grin widened, dripping with menace.

Dove kept her head down, trying to ignore him, but she could feel his eyes on her, watching her every move like a predator. She moved faster, her heart pounding as she focused on getting to her locker. But Billy's taunts followed her, lingering in the air like a bad taste.

By the time she reached her locker, her hands were shaking. She fumbled with the combination, willing herself to calm down, but the knot in her stomach only tightened.

"You okay?"

Dove jumped slightly, turning to see Steve Harrington standing beside her, his hands casually shoved into his pockets. His easy-going expression was replaced by concern, his eyes glancing briefly toward Billy, who was still leaning against the lockers at the far end of the hall.

Dove forced a smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just... Billy being Billy."

Steve's jaw tightened, and his usually laid-back demeanor shifted. He glanced over his shoulder at Billy again, the tension between them clear. Billy was still watching, his smirk lingering as he chatted up some other students.

"You want me to do something about it?" Steve asked, his voice lower now.

Dove shook her head, not wanting to drag Steve into it. "No, it's fine. I can handle it."

But as Steve looked at her, she could tell he wasn't convinced. "If he gives you any more trouble, let me know. Seriously."

Dove nodded, grateful for the offer, though she wasn't sure how much Steve could really do to stop someone like Billy. Still, the tension between the two guys was obvious, and Dove couldn't help but wonder how long it would be before things came to a head.

Later that afternoon, Dove sat in the back corner of the Hawkins High library, flipping through yet another thick book on cryptids. The pages were filled with grainy black-and-white photos of strange creatures—Bigfoot, the Loch Ness Monster, Chupacabras—but none of it felt relevant. None of these so-called cryptids matched what Dart was becoming.

She sighed and pushed the book away, leaning back in her chair. Dart wasn't some cryptid or urban legend. He was real—and growing more dangerous by the day. Her mind kept drifting back to the conversation with Dustin that morning, and the pit of worry that had settled in her stomach.

"I come bearing gifts," a familiar voice said, pulling Dove out of her thoughts.

She looked up to see Eddiewalking toward her, his backpack slung over one shoulder and a stack of books under his arm. His grin was wide, as if he were walking into a great adventure.

"I brought all the weirdest stuff I could find," Eddie said, dropping the stack of books on the table with a thud. "Cryptids, monsters, unexplained phenomena. If it's something freaky, it's probably in one of these."

Dove raised an eyebrow, looking at the titles: "Mythical Beasts of North America," "The World's Greatest Mysteries," and "Encyclopedia of the Unknown." The titles were intriguing, but she couldn't shake the feeling that what they were dealing with was far beyond anything these books could explain.

"Thanks, Eddie," she said, offering him a small smile as she flipped through one of the books. "But I don't think we're going to find anything in here. Dart... he's different. More dangerous than any of this."

Eddie sat across from her, a playful grin still on his face as he leaned in. "Come on, Dove. You've got a slug-monster on your hands. That sounds pretty cryptid-y to me."

Dove chuckled despite herself. Eddie's enthusiasm was infectious, but the reality of the situation weighed heavily on her. She appreciated his help, but there was a gnawing certainty inside her that Dart wasn't just some legend waiting to be identified. He was something much darker—something connected to whatever was happening with Will.

"I wish it were that simple," Dove admitted, her voice softer now. She glanced around the library, making sure no one was close enough to overhear. "Dustin thinks Dart is just a scared little creature that got lost. But... I think he's from somewhere else. Somewhere dangerous."

"You really think he's that dangerous?" Eddie asked after a moment of silence, his usual teasing tone gone. "Like,reallydangerous?"

Dove hesitated, glancing down at the open book in front of her. She wanted to say no, that maybe it was all in her head. But deep down, she knew the truth.

"Yeah, I do," she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think he's more dangerous than we realize. And if we don't figure it out soon... we might not be able to stop it."

Eddie frowned, the gravity of her words sinking in. He had always been the type to laugh in the face of danger, but this felt different. Dove's fear was palpable, and that was enough to make him take things seriously.

"Well, in that case," Eddie said, flipping open one of the books with renewed determination. "Let's find out what we're dealing with before it gets any worse."

Dove nodded, grateful for Eddie's help, even if part of her doubted they'd find the answers they needed in these old books.

Together, they sifted through the pages, searching for anything that might shed light on the creature they had on their hands. And with each passing minute, Dove's unease grew. Dart wasn't just some mysterious creature—he was a threat. And she had a feeling that they were running out of time to figure out what to do about him.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the sidewalk as Dove and Dustin walked home from school, the tension between them thick. Neither had spoken much, the argument from earlier still simmering between them. Dove had been pushing for days, insisting that they needed to do something about Dart, but Dustin was having none of it.

Finally, unable to keep it in any longer, Dove stopped in her tracks and faced her brother. "We can't keep doing this, Dustin. We need to get rid of Dart—he's dangerous."

Dustin shot her a sharp look, his brows furrowed with frustration. "He's not dangerous, Dove! He's just different. I can handle him."

"Whatever he is, it's not natural." Dove's voice rose, her frustration boiling over. "You've seen how fast he's growing! What happens when he gets too big to handle? What if he hurts someone?"

"He's not going to hurt anyone!" Dustin snapped, quickening his pace as if he could outrun the conversation. "Dart's not some monster, he's—"

Dove cut him off, her voice sharp. "He's what, Dustin? Eventually nougat isn't going to be enough. What do you think happens next? What happens when you can't control him anymore?"

Dustin clenched his fists, his face flushed with anger and something close to fear. "You don't get it!" Dustin's steps quickened as if he could outrun the conversation. "I'm protecting him, Dove! He's part of something bigger. I just.. I can't let him go."

Dove stopped in her tracks, narrowing her eyes. "What are you talking about? What do you mean, 'something bigger'?"

Dustin hesitated, suddenly realizing he had said too much. He looked away, his face flushed with guilt, but Dove was already zeroing in on his slip-up.

"Dustin, what do you mean? What aren't you telling me?" Dove demanded, stepping in front of him to block his path. "You've been acting weird ever since that day in the school bathroom, and now you're talking about something bigger? What's going on?"

Dustin's shoulders slumped, and he shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't want you to worry, okay? You don't need to know everything."

Dove's eyes narrowed further, her voice growing cold. "Don't need to know? I'm your sister, Dustin. You've been hiding something from me, and now you're telling me not to worry?"

Dustin swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper as he finally spoke. "He's.. he's connected to Will. I think.. I think whatever happened to Will, Dart's a part of it."

Dove stared at him, her confusion deepening. "What are you talking about? How is that even possible?"

"I can't tell you that, okay?!" Dustin snapped, his voice cracking with emotion. "I just... I can't. It's for your own safety."

Dove's mind raced, trying to piece together what Dustin was saying. Her safety? Will and Dart connected? The whole thing sounded insane, but the desperation in her brother's voice made her pause.

"Dustin, if there's something you're not telling me, you need to—"

Before Dove could finish, they reached their house. Their mom was in the front yard, waving around Mews' toy, the bell jingling halfheartedly.

"Mews! Mews, where are you, kitty?" their mom called out, a hint of concern in her voice.

Dove and Dustin exchanged a glance, the argument momentarily forgotten. Dustin's face paled, and without another word, he pushed past Dove and hurried toward the door, Dove following close behind.

"Dusty, Dovey, have you seen Mews?" their mom asked as they rushed forward, her voice laced with worry. "She hasn't come for her food, and that's not like her."

But Dustin and Dove didn't stop to answer. They bolted inside and down the hallway toward Dustin's room, a sick feeling settling in Dove's stomach. Something was wrong—she could feel it.

Dustin threw open his bedroom door, and the sight that greeted them made Dove's breath catch in her throat.

The glass tank that had once held Dart was shattered, pieces of glass scattered across the floor, and a thick, slimy substance clung to the shards. The air in the room felt heavy, oppressive, as if something had been lurking there just moments before.

"No.." Dustin whispered, stepping into the room and kneeling beside the broken tank. His hands trembled as he picked up a piece of slime-covered skin. "He's gone."

Dove stood frozen in the doorway, her heart pounding in her chest. "What happened?" she asked, though she already knew the answer. Dart had escaped.

Before Dustin could respond, a low, guttural screech echoed from the far corner of the room, freezing them both in place.

Dove's blood ran cold. Slowly, she turned toward the sound, her eyes widening in horror.

There, in the shadows of the room, crouched Dart—but he was no longer the small, strange creature they had found in the trash. He had grown significantly, now the size of a small dog, his pale green skin darker, slick with slime. His body had become more muscular.

But what truly terrified Dove was his face. Or what was left of it.

Dart's head had split open into four wide, petal-like sections, each lined with razor-sharp teeth that dripped with dark red blood. His mouth—if it could still be called that—was a gaping hole, wide enough to swallow something whole.

Dove's eyes trailed down to the floor, following the trail of blood that led to the limp, motionless body of Mews.

The family cat lay sprawled on the floor, her abdomen torn open, her fur matted with blood. Dart was crouched over her, his jaws clamping down on her body as he continued to feast. The sound of wet, grunting noises filled the room as Dart tore into the flesh.

Dove's stomach lurched, her hand flying to her mouth as the realization hit her like a freight train. "Oh my God.."

Dustin stood frozen, his face pale as he stared at the horrific scene in front of him. "Mews.." he whispered, his voice barely audible.

Dart paused mid-bite, lifting his head to look at them. His black, soulless eyes locked onto theirs, and for a moment, everything was still.

Then, with a sudden, ear-piercing screech, Dart's mouth opened wider, revealing rows upon rows of jagged teeth. His body rippled with tension, his muscles coiling as if ready to strike.

Dove stumbled back, her heart hammering in her chest. This wasn't Dart anymore. This was something else—something monstrous.

"Still think he's not dangerous?"Dove asked, her voice sharper than she intended. She stood frozen, staring at Dart as he crouched over Mews' lifeless body, her mind racing. Her heart pounded in her chest as she fought the urge to panic.

Dustin didn't respond. He was still staring at the scene in front of him, his face pale, unable to process what Dart had just done.

Dove's eyes flicked toward the window of Dustin's room, where she saw their mom walking toward the front door, oblivious to the nightmare unfolding inside.

"Oh God, Mom," Dove whispered, panic setting in. She turned to her brother, her voice low and urgent. "Don't let that thing out of here. I have to get Mom out of the house."

Without waiting for a response, Dove bolted from the room and rushed into the living room. Her mind raced as she grabbed the phone from the counter. She needed to buy time—anything to get her mom out before she saw the horror inside Dustin's room.

Dove picked up the receiver and held it to her ear, the familiar dial-up tone ringing as she pretended to be on the phone. "Thank you so much, Mr. McCorkle, you're a life saver. Yep, you too. Bye now," she said, her voice loud enough for her mom to hear.

As she hung up, she turned around, feigning surprise at her mother who was now standing by the doorway, worry etched into her face. "Great news," Dove said, forcing a smile despite the fear swirling inside her.

Her mom's eyes widened, hope glimmering as she spoke. "They found her?" Mrs. Henderson asked, tears brimming in her eyes.

Dove's heart clenched, but she shook her head. "No, but they saw her wandering around Loch Nora."

"How did the poor baby get all the way out there?" Mrs. Henderson asked, her voice trembling.

"I don't know, but they're going to keep looking for her," Dove said, stepping forward and placing her hands on her mother's shoulders, trying to calm her. "Dustin and I will stay here in case the McCorkles call back or anyone brings her home. You should go help look."

Mrs. Henderson sniffed, nodding as she pulled Dove into a tight hug. "I don't know what I would do without you, Dovey. I love you so much."

Dove blinked away the tears threatening to spill and returned the hug, her voice soft. "I love you too, Mom."

Her mother gave a final, shaky nod before making her way toward the front door. Dove watched as the car pulled out of the driveway and disappeared down the street.

The moment she was gone, Dove rushed back into Dustin's room, her pulse still racing. Neither Dustin nor Dart had moved an inch, but the tension in the room was palpable. Dart continued to grunt and twitch, his sharp teeth visible as he hunched in the corner. The room still reeked of blood and death.

"I bought us a couple of hours, but we need to figure out what to do with him. Now," Dove said, her voice firm.

Dustin's face tightened with determination. "I have an idea."

The siblings backed out of the room slowly, making sure Dart didn't make a move, and shut the door behind them as carefully as possible. They stood in the hallway, exchanging uneasy glances, knowing that whatever plan they came up with had to work. Dart was far beyond anything they could control.

"The cellar," Dustin suggested, his voice low but certain.

Dove nodded, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. "Okay, we need to grab anything we can use as weapons and protection."

Dustin shot her a look, his brow furrowed. "We don't need weapons."

Dove's frustration flared as she stepped closer to him. "Seriously?" she hissed. "He just ate Mews, Dustin, and you're still worried about his well-being?"

Dustin stood his ground, his jaw clenched. "He trusts me, Dove."

Dove opened her mouth to argue but stopped. She saw the desperation in Dustin's eyes, the way he was clinging to the hope that Dart was still the creature he had found in the trash. But deep down, she knew the truth—Dart was far from a friend. He was dangerous, and Dustin's attachment to him was blinding him to that fact.

"Dustin..." she started, her voice softening, but Dustin cut her off.

"Just trust me. Please. I can do this," he said, his voice pleading.

Dove stared at him for a long moment before finally nodding. "Okay. But if something goes wrong, we're not hesitating. Understood?"

Dustin hesitated but eventually nodded in agreement. "Understood."

Dustin moved through the house in a flurry of activity, grabbing anything he thought might help with their plan. Baseball gear, a hockey stick, even the pillows from Dove's bed—he threw it all together with an intensity that made Dove both anxious and proud. They didn't have much time, and the last thing they wanted was for Dart to get loose and cause even more havoc.

Dove, meanwhile, stood in front of the open fridge, staring at its mostly empty shelves. The only meat they had left was a pack of bologna, hardly the enticing meal she had hoped for. With a sigh, she grabbed it, then set about scattering the slices onto the floor, creating a trail from just outside Dustin's door all the way to the cellar door in the backyard. It wasn't much, but it would have to do.

Dustin strapped on his hockey gear, the oversized pads making him look more like a stuffed marshmallow than someone ready for battle. He slid on a pair of oven mitts and grabbed his hockey stick, his expression determined but slightly ridiculous.

Dove bit back a smile as she joined him in the hallway, an aluminum bat clutched tightly in her hands. Dustin had already duct-taped pillows to her chest and back, a makeshift form of protection that felt flimsy at best.

"You look like you're ready for war," Dove muttered, shaking her head as Dustin fumbled with the straps on his gear.

"This is war," Dustin shot back, his voice muffled by the helmet. "We have to be ready for anything."

Dove nodded, her grip tightening on the bat. She wasn't sure if they were ready for this, but they didn't have a choice. Dart was dangerous now, and they needed to contain him before anyone else got hurt.

"Okay, you know the plan," Dustin said, adjusting the oven mitts one more time. "I'll open the door and lure him out. You station yourself outside the cellar. When he goes in, you close the doors."

Dove nodded, her heart racing as they prepared to execute the plan. She walked toward the backyard as Dustin waddled down the hall, his movements awkward under all the gear.

Dove stationed herself by the cellar door, her breath shallow as she listened. Everything was quiet—too quiet. For a brief second, panic washed over her. What if this didn't work? What if Dart didn't follow the trail? Or worse, what if he did, and they couldn't handle him?

Dove waited, her bat raised, eyes darting between the bologna trail and the house. She could hear her own heartbeat pounding in her ears, drowning out every other sound. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dustin emerged from the house, waddling awkwardly in his hockey gear, his eyes darting around the yard. He slipped into the shed as planned, disappearing behind the wooden door.

Dove swallowed hard, her hands slick with sweat as she gripped the bat. Another beat passed before she heard it—the soft, almost ethereal noises Dart made as he emerged from the house.

Dart sniffed at the bologna slices, letting out a low growl as he devoured the meat piece by piece, his strange, slithering noises sending chills down Dove's spine. He was getting closer.

Her heart raced as she ducked behind the cellar door, listening to the soft, animalistic grunts that Dart made as he followed the trail. She peeked around the corner, her breath catching in her throat as she caught sight of him.

Dart's body was hunched over as he walked on all fours. His skin had darkened even further, a sickly sheen of slime coating his back. His mouth, split into four wide petals, grunted and squelched as he moved. He growled, and Dove felt her heart leap into her throat.

For a moment, she was frozen, unable to move as she watched him walk toward the cellar and pause, looking toward the shed where Dustin was hiding. Dart's movements were methodical, almost predatory as he inched closer, and Dove could feel the panic rise in her chest

With a surge of adrenaline, Dove leapt from her hiding place, swinging the bat with all the strength she could muster. The aluminum connected with a loudCRACK, sending Dart flying into the cellar with a screech. His body hit the floor with a sickening thud, but he recovered quickly, snarling as he turned toward her, eyes gleaming with fury.

Dove barely had time to react before Dart lunged at the cellar door, his body slamming against the wood with terrifying force. She let out a yelp and threw herself against the door, using her weight to keep it shut. Dart thrashed inside, his screeches growing louder as he threw himself at the door again and again, the hinges rattling against the frame.

"Dustin!" Dove yelled, her voice tight with fear. "Lock the door! Now!"

Dustin scrambled from the shed, rushing to the cellar door as Dart slammed into it once more. The force nearly knocked Dove off balance, but she held firm, her heart racing as she pressed her back against the door.

Finally, Dustin managed to secure the lock, looping the chains through the metal and pulling them tight. Dart slammed into the door one last time, his growls reverberating through the wood. Dove held her breath, waiting for the next impact.

But it didn't come.

Everything went still. The only sound was Dart's faint chirping as his movements slowed. Then, silence.

Dove let out a shaky breath, her whole body trembling as she slowly stepped away from the door. Her arms ached from the effort, and her legs felt like jelly, but they had done it. Dart was locked in the cellar.

"I'm sorry," Dustin said breathlessly, his eyes wide with disbelief as he looked at the cellar door. "but you ate my cat."

Dove looked at her brother, the adrenaline slowly fading from her body, leaving her utterly drained. She wanted to say something, but the words wouldn't come. The enormity of what they had just done—the weight of the day's events—pressed down on her shoulders like a boulder. Without a word, she turned and headed back toward the house, each step feeling heavier than the last.

As she walked, Dove ripped the makeshift armor from her body, the duct-taped pillows falling to the ground with soft thuds. She pulled at the remaining strips of tape that clung to her arms, her skin red and sore from where the adhesive had rubbed. She didn't care. All she could think about was Mews.

Inside the house, it was eerily quiet. The aftermath of the chaos felt surreal. Dove stepped into the bathroom, her hands trembling as she grabbed an old towel from the linen closet. The soft fabric felt foreign in her hands, and for a brief moment, she stared at it, her mind blank. Then, with a shaky breath, she moved into Dustin's bedroom.

The room was still. The shattered glass from the tank glittered on the floor, reflecting the daylight that filtered through the curtains. But Dove's eyes were fixed on the small, lifeless form in the corner—Mews. The cat's once soft, orange fur was matted with blood, her body curled unnaturally where Dart had left her. Dove's throat tightened, a lump of grief forming as she forced herself to move forward.

She crouched down beside Mews' body, her heart aching. Carefully, she spread the towel on the floor next to the cat. Her hands trembled as she gently lifted Mews, cradling the limp body like she would a fragile piece of glass. The cat was so light—too light—and Dove swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.

Slowly, she wrapped Mews in the towel, tucking the corners in as though she were swaddling a baby. Every movement felt mechanical, like her body was on autopilot, working through the motions to avoid the crushing grief that lurked just beneath the surface.

Once the cat was securely wrapped, Dove stood and made her way back outside. Dustin was still standing by the cellar, his eyes fixed on the door as if he was waiting for Dart to break free at any moment. His hockey gear hung awkwardly off his frame, and the exhaustion on his face mirrored her own.

Dove didn't say anything. She couldn't. Instead, she walked past him toward the shed, her eyes scanning the tools inside until she spotted a shovel leaning against the back wall. She grabbed it, the wooden handle rough and solid beneath her hands, and without another glance at Dustin, she began to dig.

The ground was hard, the earth compacted from the lack of rain. But Dove didn't stop. She drove the shovel into the dirt again and again, each movement more desperate than the last. Sweat dripped down her forehead, and her arms burned from the effort, but she refused to give in to the exhaustion. She needed to do this. She needed to give Mews, and hopefully herself, some peace.

Each scoop of dirt felt like a small act of penance. For keeping Dart. For not stopping this sooner. For everything that had spiraled so horribly out of control.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the hole was deep enough. Dove wiped the back of her hand across her brow, smearing dirt and sweat across her skin, then gently lowered Mews into the grave. The wrapped body rested at the bottom of the hole, and for a moment, Dove just stood there, staring down at the cat. A tear slipped down her cheek, but she quickly brushed it away, biting down on her lip to keep from crying.

With a heavy sigh, Dove picked up the shovel again and began covering Mews with dirt. The soft thuds of soil hitting the towel echoed in the quiet evening air, each sound like a hammer striking her heart. She worked slowly, carefully, until the hole was filled, the ground patted down to look as undisturbed as possible.

Dove stood over the unmarked grave, staring down at the fresh dirt. She didn't know how long she stood there, her thoughts swirling in a sea of grief and exhaustion. The weight of everything they'd been through settled in her chest, and for the first time, she allowed herself to feel the depth of it all.

It wasn't just Mews. It was everything—the fear, the danger, the lies, the secrets. It was the terrifying realization that their world was unraveling, and she had no idea how to fix it.

Dove jumped slightly, startled out of her thoughts by Dustin's voice. She turned to see him standing a few feet away, his walkie-talkie pressed to his mouth. His expression was serious, his eyes wide with a mix of determination and fear.

"Code red," he said into the walkie, his voice steady despite the weight of the words. "Does anyone copy? I repeat, this is a code red. We need help. Now."