Ursula froze mid-step, realization slamming into her like a freight train. Her entire body went rigid, the color draining from her face as an electric jolt of recognition hit her. The air grew colder somehow, heavy and alive with dread. Something was wrong. Very wrong. She could feel it.
A low, sharp bark split through the uneasy silence, echoing off the trees like a warning shot. Ursula's head snapped toward the sound—Bahamutt, ears pinned back and fur bristling, stood a few feet away, nose pointed toward the treeline. The bark wasn't frantic; it was deliberate—measured. A sentinel's signal.
A chill shot through her spine, almost like static—the hair on her arms standing on end. She felt him. That thing.
That sick, gnawing presence clawing its way into someone's mind.
"Oh, fuck," she whispered, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them.
Nancy, who had been two steps ahead, turned back, brow furrowed.
"What?"
Ursula didn't respond. Her eyes were wild now, scanning the scene—chaos everywhere. The bright glare of police lights cut through the midday sun, casting harsh flashes of red and blue over the collected crowd. Whispering neighbors clustered in groups, their faces pale and confused. Nancy followed Ursula's gaze, trying to piece together what had thrown the stranger into such a frenzy.
Another bark—this one shorter, sharper—cut through the confusion. Ursula's eyes zeroed in on Bahamutt, standing just at the edge of the clearing, his body tense, nose fixed toward a patch of shadows that felt colder than the rest.
"There you are, B," Ursula muttered, her gut twisting.
"What is it, buddy?"
Ursula snapped out of it, grabbing Nancy's hand so tightly that Nancy almost stumbled.
"Now we're late. Oh, fuck, fuck—MOVE YOUR ASS, HARRINGTON!
Nancy jerked her arm back in alarm.
"What the hell are you—"
"Oh shit, sorry—spoiler alert." Ursula tugged Nancy forward with a surge of adrenaline.
Bahamutt let out a final, urgent bark—louder this time, his body pivoting on his paws as if urging them forward.
Ursula didn't hesitate.
'Hurry!' she shouted, grabbing Nancy's arm.
'That's his serious bark—MOVE!'
The two of them ran, the gravel and dirt crunching underfoot as they pushed through the shifting crowd.
As they sprinted toward the edge of the trailer park, Ursula kept talking, B's barks getting louder, her words tripping over each other in frantic bursts.
"Fred—your friend—big fucking trouble. And I think we're already too late."
Nancy stumbled over an uneven patch of earth, pulling her hand free with an angry twist.
"What the hell are you talking about? How do you know about Fred?"
Ursula didn't stop moving, spinning to run backward for half a second to meet Nancy's shocked stare. She could hear Mr. B's frantic barks louder now.
"Because time's weird, okay? I don't know what's already changed, but I know how this ends, Nancy. And it's not good. Just trust me!"
Nancy hesitated—her instincts screaming at her to demand answers—but something about the way Ursula's voice cracked under the urgency made her move faster.
When they reached the clearing, Mr. B was there circling Fred and barking and jumping back. Ursula skidded to a stop, her boots kicking up a small spray of dirt. And there it was.
Fred Benson.
His body was rising.
The sun shone harshly over the trees, but Fred's silhouette was framed in grotesque clarity—a twisted marionette being hoisted into the air by invisible strings. Around him, a strange, pulsating glow shimmered, unnatural and wrong. Vecna's sickly power wrapped around Fred like smoke, and even at this distance, Ursula could feel its icy grip in the pit of her stomach.
"HEY!" Ursula screamed, her voice slicing through the chaos.
"EVERYONE! LOOK UP! LOOK!"
The gathered crowd, drawn by the shrill panic in her voice, turned as one. A ripple of horrified gasps cut through the air like a razor. Bahamutt still barking.
"B, Come, Now!" The brown dog immediately stopped his alert and came and sat slightly ahead of them, between Nancy and Ursula, his ears laid back.
The Hawkins Police, already on edge from the earlier incident with Chrissy Cunningham, were stationed nearby, half-expecting more trouble. Flashlights flicked on instinctively as they moved toward the commotion, the beams darting through the bright afternoon like fractured stars.
Fred's limp body hovered higher, and Ursula's stomach dropped.
It started—Fred's limbs jerking violently.
Snap.
The sound echoed through the clearing, unnaturally loud. A muffled scream shot through the crowd, quickly
drowned out by another—
Snap.
Nancy's hands flew to her mouth, her wide eyes glassy with terror as she watched the scene unfold.
"Oh my God," she whispered, almost too quietly to hear.
Ursula's hands clenched into fists at her sides. Her voice barely came out: "Shit. Too late."
Fred's head twisted sharply as the final snap rang out—his body falling limp midair before crashing to the ground like a discarded puppet. The clearing went dead silent. The crowd stood frozen, as if holding their breath.
Ursula's mind raced. The cold horror twisting in her chest threatened to root her to the ground, but her instinct for damage control kicked in.
I didn't stop it. She grit her teeth. But I can make them see it.
The news crews—already circling like vultures—rushed forward with cameras in tow. Police officers stood slack-jawed, unsure of what they'd just witnessed.
Ursula marched toward the nearest officer, her voice slicing through the stunned quiet like a blade.
"You saw that, right? YOU ALL SAW THAT."
One of the officers, a younger man, stammered,
"What… what was that?"
"That," Ursula growled, advancing on him with an intensity that made him flinch, "is what we're dealing with. That wasn't Eddie Munson. We can't ignore this anymore. Something bad is happening in Hawkins, and you want to start a witch hunt for a high schooler who plays a wizard board game that makes you uncomfortable?"
Reporters, snapping back into professional mode, shoved microphones toward her.
"Miss, what did you see?"
Ursula's words came hard and fast, her voice carrying clear and sharp over the murmuring crowd.
"You all saw it. Your partner saw it. Hell, half of Hawkins just saw it! What'd you do when it happened? Stand there with your jaws on the floor, same as him. So maybe lay off Eddie Munson, huh?" She raised her voice again.
"The Hawkins police are complicit in letting mob mentality take over. They aren't keeping us safe. PAY ATTENTION!"
Nancy Wheeler watched, half in awe and half in shock.
This girl—this stranger—had just strolled into the middle of a horrific scene and completely dominated it. The way she moved, the fire in her voice… Nancy didn't know whether to be terrified or impressed.
The police started ushering the crowd away. One officer turned to Ursula and Nancy. "We might need more statements later. Don't leave town."
Ursula's lip curled.
"Wouldn't dream of it, Officer Friendly." She stepped closer, reaching for his badge. She read the name—Powell—and dropped it with disdain.
"And Officer Powell, if Eddie Munson comes in to give you a statement and you treat him with anything but respect, I'll have the kind of LA lawyer that makes judges shit themselves here faster than you can say Affirmative Action. Don't play with me."
Powell swallowed.
"You've got my word…"
"Good. And you might wanna check out that diner. Heard there was some underage drinking last night. Those boys'll be a problem."
As they turned to leave, Nancy finally found her voice.
"Okay. You've got my attention. Now you wanna tell me who the hell you are?"
Ursula paused, glancing back over her shoulder with a faint grin.
"Now you wanna hear what I've got to say, Nancy
Drew?"
Nancy didn't answer—just followed in silence.