[ Location: The Byers' Backyard - The Shed ]
It was hot. Not "summer day" hot. "Pizza oven" hot.
We had stripped the shed down to the studs, covered the walls in aluminum foil (to reflect heat? I don't know, it seemed like a good idea at the time), and set up every space heater within a five-mile radius.
Will was tied to a chair in the center. He looked small, pale, and terrified.
"Is this safe?" Joyce asked, wiping sweat from her forehead. Her hands were shaking as she adjusted a heat lamp.
"Safe? No," I said, leaning against the doorframe to get a breath of cool air. "Necessary? Yes. We have to cook the mind flyar out of him."
Hopper checked the bindings. "He's secure. Whatever is in him... it's not gonna like this."
"That's the point," I muttered.
While Joyce and Jonathan prepared to wake Will up, I stepped outside for a second. The night air felt like ice against my overheated skin.
'System. Status.'
[ Mana: 45% (Recovering). ][ Mental Fatigue: High. ]
I opened the Chat Group. The notification light had been blinking for ten minutes. Sukuna was probably still venting.
Ryomen Sukuna: ...and when I manifest, I will start with your legs. Then your tongue. You will beg for the sweet release of death, but I will deny it. I will trap your soul in a jar of vinegar.
Esdeath: You are very vocal for someone who failed a retrieval mission.
Ryomen Sukuna: I DID NOT FAIL! THE VESSEL REJECTED CONTROL!
Vivan Frostwell: @Ryomen Sukuna You know what I'm hearing? Excuses.
Ryomen Sukuna: You dare speak to me, brat?
Vivan Frostwell: I dare. Look, Sukuna, you talk a big game about being the "King of Curses" and "The Disgraced One." But !? You were a passenger princess.
Lelouch vi Britannia:Passenger Princess...!!
Ryomen Sukuna: ...What did you call me?
Vivan Frostwell: You heard me. You sat in the backseat while a teenager did all the driving. Yuji did the work. Yuji threw the hands. You just sat in his cheek and screamed directions like an angry GPS. "Turn left! Kill him! No, Daddy the other left!"
Boa Hancock: If thats true. It was quite pathetic. A King should command, not whine.
Vivan Frostwell: Face it, baby girl. You got cucked by your own vessel. You're not a calamitity right now. You're a glorified headset.
Ryomen Sukuna: .....
[ System Alert: Ryomen Sukuna has blocked you. ]
[ System Alert: Ryomen Sukuna has unblocked you. ]
Ryomen Sukuna: I will remember this.
Vivan Frostwell: Make a note and use a crayon so you don't forget.
I closed the chat with a grin.
[ Mana: 45% (Recovering). ][ Mental Fatigue: Medium. ]
Roasting a demon king was risky, but god, it felt good.
"Vivan!" Mike called from inside the house. "We're starting!"
I ran back to the shed.
[ Location: The Shed - Inside ][ Time: 9:15 PM ]
Will woke up screaming.
"Let me go!"
It wasn't Will's voice. It was deeper. Guttural.
"Will, honey, it's mom," Joyce said, stepping closer with a cool cloth.
"GO AWAY!" Will thrashed against the ropes. "IT BURNS! MAKE IT STOP!"
"Talk to us!" Hopper yelled over the noise of the heaters. "Where is the gate? How do we stop it?"
"I don't know!" Will screamed.
"He knows," I whispered to Mike. "He's just hiding."
The interrogation went on for an hour. It was brutal. Joyce told stories about Will's childhood, trying to reach the boy inside. Hopper turned up the heat.
Will sweated. He screamed. His veins turned black against his skin.
"He's hurting!" Mike yelled. "We have to stop!"
"No," I grabbed Mike's shoulder. "Look at his hand."
Mike froze.
Will's right hand was tapping against the wooden arm of the chair.
Tap. Tap-tap. Tap.
It wasn't a spasm. It was rhythmic.
"Morse code," I whispered.
"What?" Joyce looked up.
"He's tapping," I said, pointing. "He's talking to us. Without the Spy knowing."
Jonathan grabbed a pen and wrote on his hand.
Dash. Dot. Dash-dash.
"H," Jonathan whispered.
Dot. ... E.
... R.
... E.
HERE.
"He's here," Mike realized. "The Mind Flayer is here. But Will... Will is sending a message."
"Keep talking, Mom!" Jonathan said. "Keep him distracted! Vivan, Mike, help me decode!"
We huddled in the corner. The heat was suffocating. My shirt was soaked through.
Will screamed insults at his mother. "YOU STUPID OLD WOMAN! LET ME GO!"
But his hand kept tapping.
C... L... O... S... E...
G... A... T... E...
"Close Gate," I read the letters on the notepad.
"The Gate," Hopper wiped sweat from his eyes. "He wants us to close the Gate at the Lab."
"If we close it," I realized (feigning realization), "we cut the brain off from the body. The army dies. The infection stops."
"But what about Will?" Joyce asked, terrified. "If he's connected... won't he die too?"
"We'll figure that out later," Hopper said, grabbing his radio. "Right now, we have a target."
He walked over to the table to grab his walkie-talkie.
And then it happened.
The sound that doomed us all.
RIIIIING.
The house phone inside the kitchen rang.
We all froze.
Will stopped screaming. He stopped tapping.
He slowly lifted his head. His eyes weren't frantic anymore. They were cold. Calculating.
"He knows," Will whispered.
"Who?" Joyce asked.
"He knows where we are," Will smiled. It was a cruel, unnatural smile.
RIIIIING.
"The phone," I hissed. "The stupid landline!"
I ran out of the shed, sprinting for the kitchen. I grabbed the phone off the wall and slammed it down.
But it was too late.
I looked out the kitchen window.
The night was dark. But the trees were moving.
Not from wind.
From movement.
Crunch. Snap.
Hundreds of paws hitting the dry leaves.
I ran back to the back door.
"GET TO THE HOUSE!" I screamed at the shed. "THEY'RE HERE!"
Hopper grabbed Will, cutting the ropes. Joyce grabbed the heaters (as weapons? I don't know).
We sprinted across the backyard.
From the woods, a shape emerged. Then another. Then ten.
Demodogs. A pack.
"Inside!" Hopper roared, shoving everyone through the sliding glass door.
I was the last one in. I looked back.
A Demodog lunged from the darkness, jaws open.
'Not today.'
[ Ability Active: Telekinesis (Force Push). ]
I slammed the air. The dog flew backward into the swing set.
I dived inside and locked the door.
"Lock the windows!" Hopper ordered. "Get the guns!"
Nancy racked her shotgun. Steve twirled his bat. Jonathan grabbed his pistol.
I stood in the center of the living room, wand in one hand, shovel in the other (don't ask why I still had the shovel, it was emotional support at this point).
We formed a circle around Will, facing outward.
The growling came from everywhere. The roof. The porch. The walls.
"We're surrounded," Dustin whimpered.
"Hold the line," I said, my voice steady despite my racing heart.
Scritch. Scratch.
A shadow fell over the window.
And then... silence.
The growling stopped. The scratching stopped.
We waited.
"Where did they go?" Lucas whispered.
Suddenly, the front door lock clicked.
Chunk.
The chain slid off.
The door creaked open.
We raised our weapons.
A boot stepped inside. A combat boot.
Then a flannel shirt.
Then a face with curly hair and eyes that looked like they had seen hell and burned it down.
Eleven.
She walked in. She looked at me.
She looked at the dead Demodog she had apparently just dragged onto the porch.
"I heard," she said, wiping a bloody nose. "You were in trouble."
I lowered my shovel. I grinned.
"Took you long enough," I said.
Mike dropped his gun. "El?"
She looked at him. "Mike."
Then she looked at me. Her expression softened. She walked past Mike and stood in front of me.
"You grew," she said, touching my arm.
"You too," I smiled.
I laughed.
'The Cavalry has arrived and everything going smoothly but from here plot will not be same'
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