The group sat crowded around the picnic table, Nancy listening intently as Dustin and Robin pieced together what they'd uncovered about the Upside Down and how it seemed connected to Chrissy and Fred's deaths. Nancy's eyes were serious, her brows furrowed in concentration, but Dove wasn't really focused on the conversation. Her gaze had drifted past Max, who sat directly across from her, and into the dense line of trees just beyond the trailer park.
The way the shadows moved, unnatural and twisting, felt like they were hiding something, a presence lurking just beyond her sight, just out of reach. She had been so focused, her attention split between what she could barely see in the forest and the memory of Chrissy's fearful eyes. There was something there, she could feel it—but what?
It felt like pieces were floating in her mind, disjointed and scattered. The world around her seemed to grow quieter, fading into an eerie stillness.
"Dove?" Max's voice snapped her back to reality.
Dove blinked, tearing her gaze from the woods, and looked at Max in confusion. "Sorry," she stammered, pulling herself out of her daze. "What were you saying?"
"Did you notice Chrissy acting strange before.. before what happened to her?" Max asked, concern and curiosity mingling in her voice.
Dove started to shake her head, almost saying no—but then a memory surfaced, unbidden. The bathroom. Chrissy, cornered in the stall, clutching her head in agony. The distant look in her eyes, the haunted, empty gaze that Dove couldn't shake, even now.
"She.. she was having nightmares," Dove admitted, her voice wavering. "I found her in the bathroom that day, and she looked.. terrified. She said she was seeing things, like hallucinations, and they were getting worse." Dove paused, fingers tracing nervous patterns on the weathered picnic table as she tried to collect her thoughts. "She was supposed to sleep over that night."
Beside her, Steve gently placed a hand on her back, rubbing small circles in an attempt to comfort her. His touch was steady, grounding Dove in the middle of her whirling thoughts.
Robin leaned forward. "Serial killers stalk their prey before they strike, right? So, maybe Fred and Chrissy saw this Vecman-"
"Vecna," Dustin corrected.
Steve looked at the group, shaking his head. "I don't know about you guys, but if I saw some freaky wizard monster, I would mention it to someone."
Something lit up in Max's eyes as she thought this over. "Maybe they did," she said, her voice thoughtful. "I saw Chrissy leaving Ms. Kelley's office." She glanced around at the group, waiting for it to click. "If you saw a monster, you wouldn't go to the police. They'd never believe you. But you might go to your-"
"Your shrink." Robin finished.
Dove's fingers stilled on the table as she looked up at Max, something in the air shifting as the group absorbed the possibility.
They all stood from the picnic table, walking towards Steve's car. Nancy turned, striding purposefully toward her own car, when Steve called after her.
"Whoa, Nance, where you going?" he asked, an edge of concern in his voice.
Nancy glanced over her shoulder. "Oh, there's just something I wanna check on first."
Dustin furrowed his brows. "Something you wanna share with the rest of us?"
Nancy shook her head, looking apologetic but resolute. "I don't wanna waste your time. It's a real shot in the dark."
Steve's eyebrows shot up. "Are you out of your mind? Flying solo with this Vecna on the loose? No, it's too dangerous. You need.." Steve paused, looking between Dove and Nancy, obviously conflicted. "You need someone to go with you."
Robin stepped forward, plucking Dustin's walkie out of his bag. She held it up with a smirk, shaking it playfully. "Guess that means I'm your co-pilot. Someone's gotta keep you out of trouble." She winked, looping her arm around Nancy's and glancing back at the others. "We'll radio if we find anything."
Nancy sighed but gave a small nod, casting one last look at the group before turning with Robin toward her car.
"Be careful," Steve called after them, his eyes lingering as he watched the two of them climb in. With a sigh, he finally turned and headed to his own car. Dove slipped into the passenger seat beside him, while Dustin and Max shuffled into the back. As Steve settled behind the wheel, he threw Dove a tired glance, shaking his head with a wry smile.
"How do we always end up being the goddamn babysitters?" he muttered, turning the ignition.
Dove laughed softly, but her thoughts soon drifted as they pulled away, the group quiet as the car rumbled along the unpaved road. They passed Eddie's trailer, a somber sight behind the crisscrossed lines of yellow police tape, its windows dark and eerie in the midday light. Something flickered in Dove's peripheral vision, and she turned, catching a glimpse of a figure moving through the shadows inside. She glanced around, checking if anyone else had seen it, but Dustin and Max were preoccupied in the backseat, and Steve's focus was firmly on the road ahead. Dove chose to ignore the nagging feeling.
As they left the trailer park behind, a sharp ache bloomed in her head, spreading like a vice as they entered town. Dove pressed her fingers to her temples, willing the pain away, her eyes squeezed shut as she leaned back against the seat.
As they drove through the quiet streets, the houses grew older, tucked behind thick trees and worn lawns until they pulled up to Ms. Kelley's modest brick home. Steve parked along the curb, his fingers tapping the steering wheel as they watched Max make her way up the front steps, her figure disappearing through the door after a knock.
"Okay, she's in." Steve muttered.
"I'm missing collarbones, not eyes." Dustin said.
Dove leaned back, trying to ignore the relentless pounding in her head. Every sound—Steve tapping the steering wheel, Dustin shifting in the backseat—seemed louder, sharper. Her mind felt distant, distracted, and she barely noticed Steve watching her until he broke the silence.
"You okay?" he asked.
She forced a smile, trying to hide the pain. "Yeah, just a headache," she replied, though the worry on Steve's face didn't fade. She tried closing her eyes, willing the throbbing to stop, but when she opened them, Steve's concerned stare remained fixed on her.
"Dove, your nose," Steve said, leaning closer, his voice edged with worry.
A flicker of something warm trailed down her lip, and she froze, touching her fingers to her nose. When she pulled them away, bright red smeared her fingertips, and a cold shock went through her.
Dustin quickly handed her a tissue from his bag, and she pressed it to her nose, trying to keep her expression casual, but her thoughts raced. She tried to push away the flashes of memories—the nightmares that haunted her sleep, the shadowed figures looming just outside of her vision, and the ticking that sometimes filled the silence when she was alone. But the blood on her fingers was a sharp reminder that something was wrong, and the lingering ache in her head only seemed to dig deeper.
"It's probably just from the stress of.. everything," she muttered, mostly to herself, not meeting anyone's gaze. Her own words felt hollow as she tried to steady her breath.
Without waiting for a response, Dove pushed open the car door, stepping outside and sinking down onto the curb, hoping the cool breeze would settle her nerves. She could feel Steve's eyes on her, his presence a steady reminder that he hadn't bought her explanation.
He got out and leaned against the car, arms crossed, worry creasing his face as he watched her. She didn't need to look up to feel the weight of his concern; it radiated off him like a quiet pressure, pressing down on her already-frayed nerves. She wanted to say something to reassure him, but the words wouldn't come, her mind swirling with unanswered questions.
Dove took a deep, shaky breath, dabbing at her nose one last time with the tissue. She dropped her hands to her lap, relief settling over her like a blanket, though it did little to soothe the tension still twisting inside her.
Steve hadn't moved, his gaze unwavering. "You sure you're okay?" he asked softly, his voice almost a whisper.
She glanced up, catching the intensity in his eyes, and managed a small nod. "Yeah," she murmured, though the word felt heavy on her tongue. "The bleeding stopped. No big deal."
Steve didn't look convinced, his expression tight. "You know, I've seen you handle a lot worse than a nosebleed without batting an eye," he said. "This is different. Something's on your mind."
Dove let her gaze drop, her fingers twisting the tissue. She felt the words pressing up, wanting to spill out, to tell him everything—the hallucinations, the nightmares, the feeling that something was crawling under her skin, just out of reach. But she bit them back, swallowing down her unease. "It's just.. alot," she said finally. "Chrissy, Eddie, and now this thing with Vecna. It feels like the whole town is caving in."
Steve nodded, silent, as though he understood. He let out a sigh and sat down beside her on the curb, his shoulder just barely brushing hers. For a moment, they sat like that, in shared silence, as if he knew she needed space to sort through whatever storm was raging inside her head.
Dove looked up at Steve, his gaze fixed straight ahead, his expression oddly blank. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words died as he slowly turned toward her, his mouth opening to speak.
Instead of words, there was a sickening, gurgling noise as blood trickled from his lips, his eyes hollow and blackened like the endless void she had seen earlier in Chrissy's face. Dove's hand flew to her mouth, her stomach twisting with horror as Steve's hands reached out toward her, cold and empty. She stumbled back, nearly tripping over something behind her. She glanced down and froze—Dustin's body lay crumpled beneath her, his arms bent at unnatural angles.
"No," she choked out as the world around her twisted into a haunting, blood-red hue, bathing everything in a sinister glow. Cracks spider-webbed across the pavement and split it into jagged shards. Ruins of familiar buildings surrounded her, their once-sturdy structures reduced to eerie skeletal fingers clawing at a darkened sky.
The trees were bare, twisted, and gnarled, as if the life had been siphoned out of them, their branches reaching out in silent, grasping desperation. The air felt thick and oppressive, a damp, foul mist curling around her ankles and filling her lungs with a sickly, metallic tang. Shadows loomed around every corner, shifting and writhing like they were alive, whispering faint echoes of dread that clung to her mind.
Everywhere she looked, the wreckage bore a strange, malignant familiarity. Abandoned cars lay scattered along the street, windows shattered, metal warped and rusted. Pieces of shattered glass crunched underfoot as she backed away, and the dim light caught on each shard, reflecting glimpses of twisted faces and hollow eyes staring back at her.
When she stumbled backward, the ground beneath her was no longer solid asphalt but crumbling earth. A putrid smell wafted up from it, heavy and decaying. Her breath hitched as she spun, catching the horrific sight of her friends' bodies lying strewn across the fractured pavement, each one twisted and broken almost beyond recognition. Blood seeped into the cracks in the road, flowing like thick, dark rivers toward her feet.
And in the heart of the nightmare stood a dark, looming figure, half-concealed by the crimson mist. Its presence radiated an unnatural chill that snaked into her veins, filling her with an instinctual dread. When it spoke, the voice wasn't loud, but it carried a dark power, resonating deep within her mind. "Do you see, Dove? How many will fall because of you?"
The world around her pulsed, warped, and distorted, a chaotic, twisted version of Hawkins consumed by an unrelenting darkness. The familiar setting had been invaded, desecrated, transformed into a nightmare landscape that promised only suffering. The oppressive red haze swallowed her, merging with the voice that now seemed to come from all directions, wrapping around her until she felt herself suffocating under its weight.
"You have a choice to make, Dove," it murmured, every word dripping with insidious intent. "The choice to save or to destroy. To free them.. or condemn them."
The figure stepped out from the shadows and Dove could now see the man in terrifying detail. His skin was a mottled mix of raw flesh and sinewy vines, wrapped around him like roots claiming a tree. His skull was exposed in places, twisted and stretched, with veins snaking down to where his nose and lips should have been. Red, sunken eyes bore into her, cold and calculating, as if peeling back every layer of her thoughts and secrets.
He moved with a slow, deliberate grace, his steps seeming to reverberate through the ground around them. The ruins of the street glowed in a dark, blood-red tint, casting eerie shadows that flickered like the dying embers of a fire.
She clenched her fists, trying to steady herself, but her pulse throbbed with fear and confusion. She wanted to look away, to shut it out, but the figure demanded her attention, drawing her in with a pull she couldn't resist.
"You've seen what happens to those who are unprepared. The broken, the shattered, the lost.." His voice grew darker, seeping into her thoughts. "You can end their suffering.. or add to it."
She felt a chill crawl down her spine as he took a step closer, his monstrous form towering over her, his fingers—each one twisted and ending in a grotesque, claw-like tip—reaching out as if offering her something intangible, a promise lingering just beyond reach.
She wanted to scream, to run, to fight back, but she found herself frozen, the weight of those words trapping her where she stood. The man leaned in closer, his form wavering but menacing, as if he could see directly into the parts of her she kept hidden.
"Your world is so fragile," he continued, his voice dark but oddly gentle, almost coaxing. "I can give you the strength to protect those you care about. To end their suffering for good. But you're not ready yet.. I must make you understand."
With that, he faded into the shadows, his last words reverberating through her as the vision cracked and splintered around blinked hard, her heart still racing as she looked over at Steve, sitting beside her, his face blessedly normal. Relief washed over her so intensely that she instinctively reached for him, her fingers brushing the air before she caught herself, pulling her hand back awkwardly. Steve gave her a curious glance, his brow furrowed but soft.
"Did I.. miss something?" he asked, trying to sound casual, but his eyes searched her face with quiet concern.
Dove took a deep breath, her thoughts struggling to settle. "No, I just—zoned out for a second, that's all." She forced a smile, but her hands were still trembling slightly as she tucked them in her lap.
"Right," Steve replied, a touch skeptical, but he didn't press her. He leaned back, stretching his legs out as he glanced toward the front of Ms. Kelley's sat up abruptly, his expression shifting from concerned to focused. "Here she comes," he said, standing up from the curb and offering Dove a hand. She took it, steadying herself as they made their way back to the car, Dustin already shifting over to make room.
Max reached them quickly, her eyes darting between Dove and Steve with an urgency that set them both on edge. Without a word, she climbed into the car, her hand tight on the door handle.
Dustin leaned forward as Steve and Dove slid into their seats. "So, what did she say?" he asked, his voice eager and hopeful.
Max shook her head, her tone clipped. "Nothing, just drive."
Steve frowned, adjusting the mirror to catch her expression. "Nothing?"
"Steve, drive!" Max's voice cracked with a tension that silenced the whole car.
Without another word, Steve's jaw set, and he punched the gas pedal. The car shot forward, tires screeching as they peeled away from the curb, leaving a faint mark of rubber on the pavement behind them.
As they sped down the street Dustin's walkie crackled to life in his lap, and Lucas's voice came through, tense and hurried. "Dustin? Do you copy?"
Dustin grabbed the walkie, relief flickering in his face. "Lucas? Where have you been?"
There was a beat of silence before Lucas replied, "I'm stuck with Jason and his guys. Have you found Eddie?"
Dove shook her head immediately, her eyes widening as she urgently whispered, "Don't tell him, Dustin. Not with Jason around."
But Dustin hesitated only a moment, leaning closer to the walkie. "Yeah, we found him. He's.. he's out on Coal Mill Road. Don't worry, he's safe."
Max's head whipped around, her expression alarmed. Before Dustin could say anything more, she snatched the walkie from his hand. "Lucas, meet us at the school. We'll explain everything."
"Max, I can't. Jason's losing it. I think.. I think some real bad shit's about to go down." Lucas's voice was almost a whisper, but the fear was clear.
"What are you talking about?" Max asked, her voice shaking as she gripped the walkie. "What bad shit?"
The walkie emitted nothing but empty, hollow static, the soft hiss filling the car like an unsettling echo. Dove's heart pounded as she listened, her mind racing with worry for Lucas. The static wavered and crackled, amplifying the tension, each burst of white noise another unanswered plea for him to come back on the line.