Chapter 40: Halloween 1984
The day started wrong.
Woke at dawn with corruption visions so intense I vomited. The Mind Flayer's presence crushing, vast, everywhere. Through the connection I felt it counting down. Anticipating. Savoring.
Tonight. Tonight I take everything.
Chrissy found me on the bathroom floor, dry heaving.
"Steve—"
"I'm fine. Just nervous."
"Bullshit. You're shaking."
I stood, rinsed my mouth, forced myself steady. "It's Halloween. It's here. And I need to be ready."
She grabbed my arms. "Then we face it together."
"No. You stay somewhere safe. My bunker. Hopper's cabin. Somewhere the Mind Flayer can't reach."
"I'm not leaving you."
"Chrissy—"
"I'm not leaving you." Her voice left no room for argument. "We're in this together. All of it."
I pulled her close, held her, memorized the feeling.
If this goes bad. If I fail. If people die because I wasn't smart enough, wasn't strong enough, wasn't prepared enough...
"I love you," I said.
"I know. Now go save the world."
Steve - 8:47 PM, Wheeler House
The call came from Mike.
"Steve! Something's wrong with Will!"
I was already moving, grabbing keys, sprinting for my car. "What happened?"
"We were trick-or-treating. He just—he collapsed. He's seizing. Saying things. Wrong things."
"Keep him still. I'm three minutes away."
I broke every speed limit getting there.
The Party stood clustered around Will's prone form on the Wheeler's front lawn. El knelt beside him, hand on his forehead, face scrunched with concentration.
Will seized. Eyes rolled back showing only whites. Mouth working, speaking in voice that wasn't his own.
"He's here. He's everywhere. In the walls. Under the ground. He's been waiting. Waiting. Waiting."
I dropped beside him, grabbed his hand. "Will! Stay with me!"
His eyes snapped to mine. Pupils blown wide, irises swallowed by black. And behind them—something else. Something vast.
The Mind Flayer looked at me through Will's eyes.
Hello, traveler.
I activated Pain Heal on instinct, trying to absorb the possession spike.
Mistake.
The corruption didn't just enter me—it flooded. Three years of slow contamination suddenly exploding. I made direct contact with the Mind Flayer's consciousness. Not through corruption link. Not through dreams.
Face to face. Mind to mind.
It was enormous. Ancient. Patient beyond comprehension. And it knew exactly what I was.
Different. Wrong. Not from this stream. I see it now clearly. You've walked this path before. Multiple times. Attempting. Failing. Attempting again. How many iterations, I wonder? How many times have you watched them die?
I tried to pull back. Couldn't. Locked in psychic contact.
This timeline is already different. The girl who should have died, lives. The boy is weaker than before. The pieces are scattered. Your interference has created chaos. Beautiful, exploitable chaos.
"Get. Out. Of. Will."
No. He's mine. He invited me. His fear, his pain, his trauma—delicious open doorway. I'm settling in for the long term.
"I'll burn you out."
You'll kill him trying. The boy and I are intertwined now. Removing me removes him. Are you willing to make that sacrifice, traveler? Or will you spend months trying to save the unsaveable while I consolidate power?
The contact broke. I fell backward, gasping.
Will's eyes rolled forward again. Still black. He smiled with the Mind Flayer's smile.
"It's good to finally be home."
Steve - 9:03 PM, Mobile
I drove Will to my bunker while coordinating via radio.
The Map That Updates had exploded—so many red marks it was almost entirely crimson. Twelve major breach points simultaneously active.
"Hopper, Merrill's pumpkin patch. Massive tunnel entrance."
Hopper's voice crackled back: "On it. Bringing Joyce and Bob."
"Negative. Joyce stays with Will at my location. Bob..." Say it. Warn him. "Bob, you stay with Joyce. Guard Will. Don't leave bunker under any circumstances."
"Steve, I can help—"
"You help by protecting Will and Joyce. That's the mission. Understood?"
Reluctant pause. "Understood."
I continued coordination: "Nancy, Jonathan—old junkyard. Look for tunnel entrance. Robin, Eddie—the quarry. Same deal. Lucas, Mike, Dustin, Max—you're with El. Mobile response team. Go where the map says."
The Party protested wanting to help Will.
"You help Will by stopping the tunnels. The less the Mind Flayer can consolidate, the weaker its hold. Move!"
They scattered. Professional. Trained.
My child soldiers. Fighting a war they should never have to face.
Will—no, the Mind Flayer wearing Will—laughed from the passenger seat.
"You've prepared them well. Little warriors. Little pawns. Do you think it will matter?"
"Shut up."
"This is my domain now. These tunnels, these gates, this town—all mine. You can't fight on a thousand fronts simultaneously."
"Watch me."
"I am watching. I've been watching since you arrived in this world. Studying your patterns. Your strategies. Your weaknesses." The smile widened. "I know about the teacher. The man who should die tonight. You've been trying to save him. Training him. Positioning him. Do you really think you can change fate?"
Bob. It knows about Bob.
"I can try."
"Trying isn't succeeding. And some deaths are inevitable. Fixed points in time's fabric. Push against them too hard and reality pushes back. Harder."
The car hit a pothole. Will's head lolled, momentarily disoriented. The Mind Flayer's control flickering.
Weakness. Brief. But there.
It's not absolute. The possession is new. Unstable. There's time.
I pressed the accelerator. Bunker in two minutes.
The Mind Flayer laughed through Will's mouth. "Run, little traveler. Scramble. Fight. It changes nothing. Tonight, I win. Tomorrow, I spread. And by next week, Hawkins is mine completely."
"We'll see about that."
"Yes. We will."
Steve - 9:17 PM, Bunker
Joyce waited at the bunker entrance, frantic.
"Will!"
"He's possessed. Fully. The Mind Flayer is inside him."
"No. No, we can—we can heat him. Like before. Drive it out."
"Not yet. Too dangerous. It's too deep." I carried Will downstairs, laid him on the medical cot. His eyes tracked me, black and wrong. "Right now we contain. We monitor. We wait for opening."
Bob arrived minutes later, Joyce clinging to him.
"What can I do?" he asked.
"Guard them. No matter what Will says, no matter what he does, he doesn't leave this room. The Mind Flayer will try to escape, try to return to the tunnels. Your job is preventing that."
"I understand."
I handed him a bat. "Use this if necessary."
"On Will?"
"On the Mind Flayer. Not the same thing." I met his eyes. "Remember what I taught you. Stay defensive. Don't engage unless absolutely necessary. And Bob—don't leave this room. For any reason. No matter who calls for help. You stay here. With them. Promise me."
Something in my intensity made him pause. "I promise."
Please keep that promise. Please survive tonight.
Radio crackled. Hopper: "Tunnel confirmed at pumpkin patch. It's massive. Goes down at least thirty feet. Spreading in multiple directions."
"Tag it on the map. I'm on my way."
I turned to Joyce. "I have to coordinate. Bob protects you. Keep Will sedated if possible. I'll be back in two hours."
"Steve—"
"Two hours. We'll figure out the exorcism then."
I ran upstairs, checked the map. Red everywhere. But patterns emerging. The tunnels formed network—hub and spoke system with central point.
Find the hub. Destroy it. Collapse the network.
Simple in theory.
Impossible in practice.
The Mind Flayer spoke through the corruption link one more time:
You're different, traveler. You've done this before—I see echoes of other paths. Other attempts. You saved the boy. Saved the girl. Killed my scout. Impressive adaptations.
But I adapt too. This time, I brought an army. This time, I scattered my forces. This time, you can't be everywhere at once.
Some deaths are inevitable. Some sacrifices necessary. The question is: who will you let die to save the others?
The connection cut.
I stared at the map—town bleeding red, tunnels spreading, war beginning.
Grabbed my radio. "All teams, report status."
Voices crackled back. Everyone in position. Everyone ready.
Three years of preparation. Three years of training and stockpiling and positioning.
And still it might not be enough.
I loaded weapons into my car. Checked the Compass That Points To Danger—it spun wildly, overwhelmed by threats in every direction.
The Mind Flayer was right about one thing.
I couldn't be everywhere at once.
But I could try.
The night was just beginning. The war had started.
And somewhere in the tunnels, Bob Newby's fate waited.
Not this time. Not if I can help it.
I drove toward Merrill's pumpkin patch, coordinates locked, team assembled, hope fragile but alive.
Halloween 1984.
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