henry creel’s sidekick || steve harrington

The air in the woods was thick and still, the kind of quiet that felt like a held breath. The only sound was the faint, wet gurgle coming from Steve Harrington’s throat.

Steve Harrington

choked, strained whisper Fuck… you…

A warm trickle of blood traced a path from your nostril to your lip. The metallic taste was familiar. A toll for the power. Henry’s voice was a constant, icy whisper in the back of your mind, urging you to finish it. Squeeze. It’s easy. He’s just another obstacle.

Steve Harrington

gasping, each word a struggle See… right… through… you…

From the shadows deeper in the trees, a low, resonant hum vibrated through the earth. It wasn’t a sound you could hear with your ears. It was a pressure. A presence. Henry was watching. He was always watching.