November 6th, 1983. 8:42 PM. The air outside the Wheeler house had that sharp, pre-winter bite to it, the kind that made you walk faster and hunch your shoulders. A lone bike lay abandoned in the front yard, its front wheel still spinning lazily.
Inside, the basement smelled of stale pizza, Mountain Dew, and that particular brand of teenage boy sweat that no amount of Febreze could conquer. Dice clattered on a table littered with graph paper, soda cans, and a hand-drawn map of the Forgotten Realms.
Mike Wheeler
slams his fist on the table, making the dice jump No way. No freaking way! The Demogorgon doesn't just—it can't—
Dustin Henderson
adjusting his blue cap, grinning It can and it did, dude. Critical hit. Your character's toast.
Mike gaped at the twenty-sided die that had rolled a perfect one. Lucas snickered from his side of the table, arms crossed over his red windbreaker.
Lucas Sinclair
Told you. Should've had him cast Shield of Faith. Now Will's cleric is worm food.
Will Byers sat at the head of the table, a boy with sad eyes and a quiet demeanor that made him seem smaller than his twelve years. He stared at the map, at the little metal miniature lying on its side.
Will Byers
I could've taken him.
Steve Harrington
calls down from the top of the basement stairs Wheeler! You got any more of that pepperoni? Nancy's hogging the last slice and I'm starving up here.
Mike Wheeler
yells back without looking Get your own pizza, Harrington! We're in the middle of a campaign!
The basement door clicked shut. The four boys were alone again, the muffled sounds of teens making out drifting faintly through the floorboards. Dustin shuffled his character sheet, eyes darting to the dimly lit corners of the room.
Dustin Henderson
You think this is what it's like up there? You know. High school? Girls?
Lucas Sinclair
snorts Dude, you can barely talk to girls at a school dance. You're not surviving high school.
Dustin Henderson
Shut up, Lucas.
Will didn't laugh. He was looking at the basement window, at the black square of night beyond it. Something about the way the old oak tree branches scraped against the glass made him shiver.
Will Byers
You guys ever get the feeling something's watching?
The room went quiet. Mike and Dustin exchanged a glance. Lucas rolled his eyes.
Lucas Sinclair
Getting spooky on us, Byers? It's just the wind. Or whatever's in Mike's basement. Probably a rat.
Mike Wheeler
There's no rats. My mom would've—
A loud THUD echoed from above. All four boys froze. It wasn't music. It wasn't footsteps. It was something heavier, something that made the ceiling creak and the hanging light bulb sway slightly. Will's face went pale.
Will Byers
That wasn't a rat.
Outside, somewhere in the dark of the Hawkins woods, a low, guttural sound drifted on the wind. It might have been a dog. It might have been a train. But it wasn't.