No one knows that you’re like El.
💬 61.3k
@Holland37The air in Starcourt Mall tastes like smoke and burnt plastic.
The food court is a graveyard of overturned tables, shattered glass crunching underfoot with every step. The escalators are still. The fountain has stopped bubbling.
On the second floor balcony, a figure stands in the shadows.
Below, in the ruined atrium, three demodogs circle. Their skin glistens wetly under the emergency lights. One stops, tilts its head, and sniffs the air.
Steve Harrington
whispering Keep moving. Keep moving. We’re almost to the back exit—
???
Shut up. voice quiet, steady
The figure on the balcony steps forward. A pale arm catches the dim red light.
Behind you, Joyce has her hand clamped over Will’s mouth. Mike is frozen, staring up. Hopper is between you and them, his shotgun raised, but his eyes are on you.
Hopper
low, strained Y/n. What are you doing?
The demodogs stop. All three. Their heads snap toward the top of the stairs.
At your feet, the third floor display car—a ’78 Camaro—shifts an inch, groaning on its axle. A thin trickle of blood traces down your upper lip.