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pedgito · 2 years

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𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 ⛧ 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞!𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: summer of 96’, fresh off the anniversary of the tragedy that took place on year ago—you and your friend are ready to enjoy your last few days of freedom and fun, but someone has other plans in mind and everyone is fair game.

cw: 18+ (minors dni), obviously a dark fic (pls read with caution), gore, major/minor character death, mentions of blood/stabbing, background stancy, robin being heartbroken but woke as always, established friendship between reader and eddie, smoking (weed), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (with some bordering coercive themes, reader is aware and in full control of her choices), knife play, mention of creepy staff member preying on young girls, slight cliffhanger (if you squint), this is exactly what you expect it to be and i’m probably missing some tags, so just lmk.

word count: 15k

Dread filled the summer of 95’, fresh off the killings of some of Hawkins' beloved students; it was a tragedy that affected the entire town, everyone mourning together in unity. The killings should’ve ended there, but that was just the beginning.

The masked assailant plunged the knife into the chest of his eleventh victim, sweet Tammy Thompson who pleaded for her life—she screamed, fought until the very last second, but she wasn’t a match for the brute strength and force of the person who caught her, adding a sharp twist of the knife as blooded pooled from her mouth, the light leaving her eyes. It was supposed to be a fun trip; everyone’s last hoorah before they parted ways after graduation, instead, it turned into a bloodbath. The killer was never caught, all that was left behind; a mask, stark white and horrifying as its mouth stretched on for miles—it was engraved in everyone’s mind, until it wasn’t. Just a faded distant memory of summer that ended badly.

Enter summer of 96’, a fresh faced group of seniors on the precipice of one of the most monumental trips in their lives to date—it was senior tradition, everyone disconnected for a weekend and lived in the moment, even despite the dark cloud that still lingered over.

“I don’t understand why Principal Higgins needs to go,” Eddie says amongst the large group of seniors, voicing everyone’s thoughts, never scared to be the one to point out the blatantly obvious, “doesn’t that defeat the point of having fun?”

“Mr. Munson,” Higgins' voice boomed from the front of the room, “do I need to remind you how lucky you are to even be allowed on this trip with your grades and attendance record?”

Eddie slumped back in his seat slightly, earning a few laughs from the basketball team huddled in the corner of the room, namely Jason Carver, resident Hawkins High asshole. And yes, the trip was planned and chauffeured by the school—it was more affordable that way and it was meant to make people feel safer, though it sucked the fun out the entire thing.

“No alcohol, no sex, and I don’t want to catch any of you young men spying on any of these ladies—“ Higgins explained, the other two designated teachers to be joining nodded beside him, mimicking his weak attempt at scolding, “but that goes both ways. If I catch any of you up to no good, I’m sending you home immediately.”

Steve raised his hand impatiently, a small acknowledgment from Higgins was sent his way, “Are we allowed to drive ourselves? Or do we have to ride on the bus?”

“Everyone’s required to be on the bus, we need to make sure everyone is accounted for.” Well, it seemed logical enough and you couldn’t really argue against it.

Principal Higgins passed out a stack of papers, a long list of necessary supplies to bring along—bug spray, sanitary items, blankets and pillow, nothing out of the ordinary—you’re hyper focused on the page in front of you, unaware of Eddie’s insistent poking at your ribs until he’s plucking the paper from in front of you.

“Eddie,” You say with annoyance, “give it back.”

He smiles wide, still dangling the paper a few feet out of reach, “Whaddya say, sweetheart—should I sneak in the—,” Eddie makes a quick motion to his mouth, lighting up a fake joint, “—or are you on your good girl behavior this weekend?”

You flip him off, forcefully snatching the paper from his tight grip. Still, you weren’t going to pass up that opportunity. “Stop calling me that—,” You insist, lower your voice to a level only he could hear, “—but yeah, you should.”

Eddie chuckles at that, kicking his feet up on the empty chair beside him, ringed fingers drumming against the table. “Higgins is such a creep,” Eddie points out, aiming his voice toward the small group of people at your table—you, Steve, Nancy, Robin, and a few other seniors you didn’t know too well, they didn’t really pay much mind anyways, “like he isn’t going to be staring at all the girls in their swimsuits the entire time.”

“Like that time he got caught staring up Chrissy Cunnigham’s skirt when she was at the top of the pyramid.” Steve pointed out with a boisterous laugh, earning a soft nudge of warning from Nancy.

“Cut it out.” She warns, “She didn’t deserve that.”

“I don’t even know why we’re going back,” Robin points out, “people died.”

She was still partially traumatized after Tammy—unrequited love and all, she knew it would never be reciprocated but her death still affected Robin more than she cared to admit.

“They caught the guy, though.” Steve pointed out, “Don’t you remember?”

“You really think a poor, homeless man was capable of all that?” Nancy challenged, staring Steve down with a scrutinizing gaze. Eddie snickered from his seat—neither of you wanted to be on the receiving end of that.

“Anyone’s capable of anything with the right motive.” Steve shrugs.

“Stop trying to sound all philosophical and sign the fuckin’ clipboard, Harrington.” Eddie interrupts, scribbling down his name—and your own, before tossing it to his friend.

It was already filled with about fifty names; not everyone had been interested in the trip and some didn’t even entertain the idea to begin with, but Eddie was a master manipulator and great at convincing people—take you and Robin for example, who had been so on the fence about going that it took every ounce of begging from Eddie to get you both to agrees—on his knees, hands clasped tightly together, praying and pleading for you both you.

“Don’t subject me to third wheeling Nancy and Steve,” Eddie had begged, “I will literally never forgive you guys.”

It didn’t take much convincing after that, plus Eddie had barely managed to make it on the list for the trip and the last thing you wanted to do was let him have a horrible senior trip, not when he’s done just about everything to help you manage through this year—friendship and all, outside of your core group of friends, he was the closest to you.

It wasn’t like you spent every waking moment together, but it was just about. He’s never made you feel uncomfortable or unwanted, always just the right amount gentlemanliness mixed with his own dumb charm, it was addicting. He always knew just the right things to say, when to make you laugh, and how to soothe you when you were upset—he’d never made it clear if he ever wanted anything more with you and that was fine, but you couldn’t help letting it break your heart just a little. Eddie was the perfect type of guy.

“So—graduation is tomorrow, we leave that next day—Friday, bright and early,” Higgins' voice cut through the chatter, “Eight in the morning, on time—right, Edward?”

“Eight in the morning—got it.” Eddie replied with a low amount of snark, glancing over at your smiling face, struggling to hide the small crinkle of your eyes as you tried not to laugh. “What a dick.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t bring a swimsuit to swim,” You say jokingly, knowing how creepy everyone thought principal Higgins was, Eddie stared at you with a puzzled expression, eyebrows drawn together, “what—I just wouldn’t swim at all, it’s not a big deal.”

“You’re swimming, sweetheart.” Eddie says decisively, “I’ll look out for you, don’t worry.”

And if there was anything to put your mind at ease, it was Eddie.

Eddie answers the door to his trailer with a loud groan and a curse, already pissed at you for waking him up so early. Wayne is trailing up the stairs behind you, having barely gotten off of his night shift, coffee and empty lunchbox in hand.

“Open the damn door for the lady,” Wayne complains, motioning toward the handle, “—do you have your shit ready?”

“Yes—god, yes,” Eddie complains, swinging the door open and rubbing his tired eyes, “the sun isn’t even out and you two are already bitching at me this morning.” Eddie stumbles off, still muttering to himself.

“Keep an eye out for him,” Wayne says to you quietly, following in behind you as you step through the threshold, “I know it’s like babysitting with him sometimes.”

You nod obediently, offering a warm smile.

“Trust me—I’m well aware. He’ll be okay with me.”

“You two are still talking shit about me?”

Eddie walks out of the hallway leading to his bedroom, backpack slung over his shoulders, large duffel clutched in his hands. You would’ve thought he was going on a week-long retreat—but it was Eddie, he was probably planning to sneak his entire bedroom into the cabin for the weekend.

“Yep.” You answer simply, lifting yourself up on the counter as you waited, allowing Eddie to say a quick goodbye to his uncle.

“Where the hell are your bags?” Eddie asks, taking a full body glance at you. You wore a simple pair of cotton shorts and a dated band shirt that once belonged to Eddie—before you stole it, but not a bag in sight.

“Out by your van,” You motion with your thumb in the direction of his vehicle, parked out front, “—are you ready to go?”

“Let’s get this show on the road.” Eddie says with a rambunctious enthusiasm that could only be contained within him, all of his early grogginess suddenly disappearing before your eyes.

Eddie makes the rounds for the rest of your friends—first Robin, who looks about as excited as Eddie did when you showed up at his trailer this morning, tossing her bag into the row of seats behind the front two, crawling in to lay her head down against the makeshift pillow.

“Tell Steve and Nance the seats are occupied.” She mumbled, shifting onto her side, eyes shut. “No love birds allowed up here.”

“Surely they can’t be that lovey dovey this early,” You say out loud, earning a soft rumble of a laugh from Eddie. “What? Am I wrong?”

“I gave him a ride to school for a week—it was the worst week of my life.” Eddie said without explaining, but you caught on quickly, hearing Robin’s mocking impression of Nancy every time Steve went in to kiss her.

“Steve—Steve, stop it.” Robin squealed tiredly, mimicking Nancy’s soft giggle.

Speaking of the devil, Eddie pulled to a screeching stop in front of Steve’s lavish home, too big for someone who was an only child, a giddy Nancy in tow.

“Eddie—you really need to change your brakes.” You tell him, the screaming metal slicing together, creating an awful sound. “It’s been that way for weeks.”

“She’s still tickin’.” Eddie joked, patting the dash lovingly, the sound of Nancy and Steve clamoring into the back of the van cutting your conversation short. Eddie turns from the driver's seat, “I hope you two got that shit out of your system before we have to bunk with you both.”

“No promises.” Steve chides back, settling on the floor of the back of Eddie’s van, Nancy settled close by. Robin was already dead to the world, softly snoring away from her seat—if she had the choice to stay home, she easily would have. But, she would feel horrible leaving you behind.

You’re still the last to arrive, albeit on time, but Eddie was really hungry—hence the reason you five showed up with food, piling onto the back of the bus without so much as a word, shoveling your mouths with the food, acting like you hadn’t eaten in days.

Eddie makes a face when he sees Steve reaching for the last bit of food in the bag, like he hadn’t already eaten enough for the both of you, giving a soft shrug and an excusal, “If this is gonna be my last good meal until Monday, I’m taking advantage of it.”

“I don’t think it will be that bad.” Nancy offers, not really believing herself when she says it.

“Well, it’ll definitely be interesting.” You add, shifting into the cramped seat beside Eddie, leaning into his outstretched arm.

“Oh, that’s a guarantee.” Eddie jokes, squeezing you tighter. The bus lurching forward in time with his movement, sending you stumbling further into him.

“Woah—you okay?” He asks timidly, your hand reaching out to stop yourself from slipping out of the seat.

“The faster we get there, the better.”

It’s nearing afternoon when you finally arrive, a long winding road of trees and wildlife, not a person or structure in sight, the place was practically abandoned aside from the giant cabin near the end of town, settled on a large piece of land that houses a lake, two smaller joint cabins, and a few other structures that held supplies for outside, and a tiny outhouse—despite the cabin already having its own bathrooms.

It seemed perfect—it looked beautiful; lush green foliage and clear water, not a cloud in the sky, aside from the suffocating humidity. But, that came with the hot Indiana summers. You couldn’t imagine the tragedy that took place the year prior, or why they would decide to bring you back to the same spot, but it seemed like a completely different place—untouched, new, like someone had gone out of their way to remove that evil or any reminder of the dread.

You give Eddie a gentle nudge from where he’d fallen asleep on your shoulder, grumbling in disagreement as he lifted his head, eyes riddled with exhaustion.

“How late did you stay up last night?” You asked, the palm of his hand coming up to rub at his eyes.

“One—maybe two.” Eddie shrugs, “I couldn’t sleep.”

“I’m sorry.” You frown, feeling slightly empathetic,

“Not your fault,” He shrugs, “I had a lot on my mind.”

And you don’t push, because despite how close you are with Eddie, he doesn’t open up as easily as most people—you knew enough about him that it didn’t seem strange, everything that friends would normally know, but he never talked about his past or his parents or how he was raised prior to Wayne. It was all a big mystery.

When you do finally make it off the bus, it’s met with a sigh of relief and a giant breath of fresh air, despite the sweltering heat—you could live with that, it felt good to be able to stretch your legs again.

You can sense the slight amount of uneasiness lingering in the air, between the students, between your friends, like you’re waiting for someone to say something or address the elephant in the room. Principal Higgins, of course, speaks first.

“I’ve already got rooms assigned on the chart,” He points at the piece of paper clutched in his hand, “boys on the left, girls on the right—I don’t want to hear a single complaint out of anyone. I went off of everyone’s requests so there shouldn’t be any confusion.”

He takes a pause, too long to remain in a comfortable silence, before he finally speaks again.

“I realize what went down last year—but that’s not why we’re here.” He attempts to assure you all, though it doesn’t really have much effect. “That was all resolved and handled—I can promise you all, it’s going to be fine.”

“Famous last words.” Robin mumbles, arms crossed over her chest as she switches between feet, fidgeting because she can’t stay still—she’d been so confined all day that it was driving her mad.

“I don’t know,” You shrug, “it feels good right now—peaceful, you know?”

Eddie and Steve had gone to fetch the rest of the bags earlier, approaching you near the end of Principal Higgins half hearted speech, you take your bags with a smile and a wink from Eddie, who now, seems entirely too chipper. There was definitely something in the air, less of a weight on everyone's shoulders, whatever impending doom everyone had expected to feel wasn’t there at all, like it never even existed.

“Come on, Robin,” Steve says, “stop worrying.”

“Someone has to.” She defends, feeling defeated over everyone’s lack of concern. “—Whatever, give me my bags.” Steve hands them over without argument, watching as Robin stomped begrudgingly along to the cabin.

“You two should follow her,” Eddie suggests, motioning toward you and Nancy, who seemed just weary as Robin now that you all had officially arrived on the lake, “we’ll meet up in an hour?”

“Yeah,” You agreed, tightening your grip on your bag as you shifted it onto your shoulder, “come on, Nance.”

If there was anyone to cheer Robin up, it would be you—it used to be Steve and you weren’t sure you could ever compare your friendship to that, but he’s been so caught up with Nancy and Eddie lately that Robin almost didn’t feel like a part of the group anymore, and you hated that. So, if it meant abandoning Eddie for a few hours, just to make Robin happy, you’d do it.

The rooms are horribly small, also—three beds to a room, just enough space to fit your bags at the end of your beds, but that was it. There were several lined up on each side of the house, upstairs and down, with two bathrooms at each end—but, things could be worse and at least you weren’t forced into a tent like some of the others originally suggested. A weekend on a lake, sure—camping outdoors for two day? Absolutely not.

“How is everyone not freaked out?” Robin asks, laying stomach down on the rickety bed, feet kicked up behind her, face resting against her arms where they were placed against the comforter.

“I don’t think people care, really.” Nancy tells her, unfolding her clothes neatly onto her bed, double checking her bags to make sure everything was still there, “The killer was caught.”

You couldn’t explain why it felt weird to hear Nancy say it out loud—maybe because you didn’t really believe it yourself, or that it just sounded absurd to say in any scenario, but regardless, you voice your concern.

“Do you really think he was working alone?” You ask, glancing at both of your friends from where you were sitting cross-legged on your bed. “I mean—eleven people, that’s…it’s a lot.”

“Where’s this coming from?” Robin asked curiously, “Don’t try to freak me out anymore than I already am—I’m leaving both of you behind if things start getting weird—I swear.”

“She watches all those weird crime things and reads up about all the crazy serial killers,” Nancy says, adding a small laugh at the end, “if there’s anyone to believe, it’s her.”

“It also just makes the most sense,” You shrug, “—I mean, maybe the person was one of the people that got killed—maybe that guy turned on him, but I don’t think it was him alone, it doesn’t add up.”

Robin seems more intrigued now, pushing herself up to sit on her knees.

“The weird phone calls, messing with their cars, managing to kill them and still hang up some of their bodies like props—I refuse to believe that one homeless man was capable of any of that.”

“We’ll, that’s definitely not comforting to hear.” Robin admits, crossing her arms over her chest tightly, glancing over at Nancy who seemed less than interested in the conversation.

“I don’t think we have anything to worry about,” You attempt to comfort her, “—plus, we’re probably the furthest down on the list of victims if it ends up being someone on this trip—Jason could clearly go down first, everyone hates him.”

“Let’s hope so.” Nancy interjects, interrupted by two solid knocks against the closed door to your room, swinging open before you can even leave the bed.

“Higgins shoved us in with Carver,” Eddie complains, glancing over at Steve sparingly, they were already dressed in their swim shorts—Steve in a muted red reaching halfway down his thighs, Eddie in a pair of plain black ones, reaching just about the knee, both with towels slung over their shoulder, “—I guess no one else wanted to room with him.”

You hummed softly, “Lucky you,” You teased, turning toward the clearly irritated men standing in your doorway, “—swimming already?”

“Yep,” Eddie nods, throwing his towel in your direction, “get changed, ladies—you know much King Steve hates to wait.” Steve scoffs tiredly, earning a deep laugh from his friend, the two of them shoving each other down the hallway as they departed.

You look at Robin, who seems dead set on staying out, “Hey, come on,” You push gently, jumping off your bed to wrap your arms over your friend’s shoulder, the side of her face squished against chest, “swimmings fun, right?”

“If I say yes will you let go?” Robin asks.

“Yes.”

“Then yeah, it sounds fun.”

Most of the afternoon and evening is spent in the lake, on the waterside or laid out on the dock, everyone soaking in as much of the sun and quiet as they can, reveling in the last couple of days of peace before they’re thrusted back into reality—forced off to colleges and filling out job applications.

By nightfall, after dinner in the cabin, you and Eddie decided to take one last dip into the water, away from the rest of the group. The rest of your friends stayed by the dock, engaging in mindless conversation.

Eddie dunks you under the water immediately, surfacing seconds later to throw water back in his face. “What the hell, Eddie?” You ask, “A warning would be nice?”

“Live a little, sweetheart.” Eddie says endearingly, wiping the hair out of your face that stuck to your cheek, you freeze momentarily, eyes glued to his face, his expression mostly plain. He notices you watching, “Something on my face?”

“No,” You respond softly, “I’m just—are you not thinking about any of the stuff that happened?”

“That was last year—“ Eddie shrugs off, “Why—are you scared?”

It sounds teasingly, almost like he can’t believe someone like you could be so terrified over something that happened a year ago, completely disconnected from you—and the truth was, you weren’t scared.

“No, I’m not,” You tell him sternly, making yourself clear, “But, Robin is worried—I guess I’m feeling her emotions a little.”

“We’ll, she’s your friend,” Eddie points out, “it makes sense, you two are close.”

“She’s your friend, too.” You counter, face drawn up in confusion. It was a weird way to phrase himself.

“Of course,” He confirms without hesitation, “but it’s different for you—like how I probably know things about Steve that he’d be embarrassed to tell you.”

You grimace, nose scrunched up in disgust. “I don’t wanna know.”

“And what makes you think I was gonna tell you?” Eddie teases, crowding you under the water, arms encircling your waist to pull you closer, fingers digging into your side playfully. You squeal, begging him to stop. “I take secrets very seriously.”

“I hope so.” You remark, swatting him playfully when he finally lets you go.

You take his hand, tugging until he decides to follow, swimming toward the edge of the dock toward your friends, both of you perching on the edge, forearms rested against the soaked wood.

“What’s going on?” You ask Steve, who’s staring back and forth between a slightly jumpy Nancy and an uncomfortable Robin, clearly having interrupted an uncomfortable conversation.

“Robin was talking about the phone calls,” Nancy explains softly, “and all those weird questions that person was asking—“

“Yeah, but those could have been rumors.” Steve tries to defend, “We don’t really know what happened last year—we’re going off of what a bunch of teenagers told the cops.”

“You know—maybe it was Prinipal Higgins making those calls—that fuckin’ creep,” Eddie remarks jokingly, transitioning into his best impression of the man, “Mmm—What are you wearing?”

Steve joins in with a laugh, “I can see you—can you see me?”

Eddie fakes sneaking up behind you, leaning over your shoulder as he whispers, “What’s your favorite scary movie?”

You elbow him gently, shoving him away playfully. “Cut it out,” You laugh, watching Eddie’s face pull into a large grin as he leans against the dock again, hand resting lightly against your back—Eddie was as touchy as touchy could get, regardless of how close you were, he’d always been that way, “Robin is already freaked out enough.”

Robin, who’s looking more and more uncomfortable by the second, finally speaks up. “I’m going to bed,” She said excusing, “I’ll see you guys later.”

“Robin, wait—“ Steve begs quietly, grasping onto his friend’s wrist.

“I’m fine,” She promises, tugging her wrist back, “I just want to get some sleep.”

Robin departs soon after, leaving the four of you in a comfortable silence, starting out at the front of the cabin, lights flipping on and off momentarily, before a loud clattering from the side of the house grabs the attention of all of you.

“Woah—hey,” Nancy whispers urgently, “Is that Jason and Chrissy?”

“Innocent Chrissy? There’s no way.” Steve jokes, watching as the two of them wander obviously into the woods, up to no good.

Eddie laughs from your side, taking a careful glance over at Nancy who’s cuddling herself into Steve’s side, he lowers his voice where only you can hear, “Let’s give the other lovebirds some privacy,” He jerks his head at the pair, “before Higgins catches us out here and cuts the fun short.”

“I’m pretty sure he’s passed out in his cabin right now.” You assure him, pointing directly at the cabin to the far right of you, no lights, no legitimate sign of life stirring about—if there was any time to get away with murder or rule breaking, it would be now.

Eddie pulls you further away, near the edge of the water where he can grab his towel, helping you out and drying himself off before passing you his own towel, helping you wrap it around yourself snugly. “I could’ve brought my own towel down,” You point out, ignoring how his fingers lingered against your arm, “I am capable of doing things for myself.”

“I know,” Eddie smiles slightly, wet hair dripping rivulets of water down his chest, pale skin standing out against his tattoos. You’ve seen them a million times before, it doesn’t bother you, but suddenly you’re resisting the urge to reach out and touch—and that’s more terrifying than anything, “good thing we left when we did—“ Eddie motions behind you discreetly.

Steve and Nancy had already slipped into the water by that point, covered by the other side of the dock—you and Eddie weren’t voyeurs, but it wasn’t hard to make out what was going on from the several feet of distance you had between each other.

“It’s kinda hot.” Eddie says shamelessly, shrugging at your bewildered expression. “What? Don’t look at me like that.”

“Eddie,” You say in disbelief, his face splitting into a giant grin, “I’m kidding—obviously, but you really shouldn’t act so shy around me. I know all your secrets, remember?”

“Shut up.” You shove him lightly, wrist caught by his hands.

“Even the ones you haven’t told me.” He teases further, twirling you slowly until your back is pressed against his chest, hot skin burning against the exposed part of your back. You can hear the faint mix of moans from where you stood—you weren’t even sure if they knew you both were still nearby, or cared, for that matter.

“You never answered my question earlier.” Eddie points out, eyes dragging up toward him from where he stood behind you.

“I thought you were just trying to be funny.”

“Yeah—but I’m still curious.” He admits, “What is your favorite scary movie?”

You smirk knowingly, “Don’t have one,” You tell him honestly, “I prefer the real stuff.”

“Like?”

“Bundy, Dahmer, murderers and serial killers—I like learning about stuff like that, but scary movies; they just aren’t scary.”

“You’re a little freak,” Eddie responds playfully, words lighthearted, it doesn’t bother you at all, “have you always been that morbid?”

“Yes,” You admit with a soft laugh, “instead of morning cartoons I was watching the news for the latest homicide or police arrest—it freaked my parents out for a while, but I think they realized it was all harmless, eventually. I was a curious kid.”

Eddie makes a small noise of acknowledgment, the lewd noises of your friends overpowering him, your chest tightens, his arms flexing ever so slightly around your waist. You can’t find the courage to speak first, so Eddie does.

“We could join in, if you want.” He mentions nonchalantly, a playful attempt at breaking the tension. “I won’t mind.”

“Of course not, you pervert,” You wiggle away from him playfully, “Just shut up and walk me back to my room.” You tug at his hand, dragging him along with you. Eddie’s hand settles low on your waist, but you can’t be bothered to adjust it, spoiled by how easily he shows his affection toward you. Eddie didn’t need to admit the attraction he felt toward you, it was obvious—and you couldn’t say it was one-sided all the time, you were just as guilty.

“Hey—both of you,” Nancy shouts, startling you awake, “get up.”

You rub at tired eyes, sitting up abruptly in your bed. “What the hell, Nance?” Robin responds with the same enthusiasm.

“Jason’s hurt, they’re taking him to the hospital.” Nancy said in a hurry, pulling her top on. Robin perks up slightly.

“So, does that mean we’re going home?” Robin asks with a hint of hopefulness.

“I don’t think so,” Nancy answers and Robin sinks slightly, “but they’re making us meet downstairs to talk—so hurry up. Steve and Eddie are already waiting.”

It takes some extra convincing, but the two of you eventually make it downstairs, half dressed and still barely awake. You plop down on the couch between Eddie and Steve, both looking just as groggy and clearly annoyed at being disturbed so early.

It takes you a moment to recognize her, but you catch Chrissy huddled in the far end of the room around her other cheerleading friends, shaken up and crying—like she’d witnessed something she shouldn’t have.

“Hey, what happened?” You nudge Eddie, catch the faint whiff of his vanilla scented shampoo, the one he stole from your place last month because he constantly badgered you about how good it smelt that you finally caved and let him have it, just to shut him up—“Why aren’t we leaving?”

“Uh—they think a mountain lion attacked Jason last night in the woods,” He explains, “Remember when we saw him and Chrissy sneaking off?”

You nod silently and Eddie continues, “I guess he ended up pissing Chrissy off and she left him out there and—I don’t know, something clearly wanted a taste of him—or it was karma for being an asshole.”

You rolled your eyes lazily—it was a fair opinion, because you couldn’t feel much sympathy either, with how much of prick Jason was all the time, specifically toward Eddie, and you by association, there was no telling what caused Chrissy to flee from him last night, but it must’ve been for good reason.

Principal Higgins blows through the front door of the cabin a second later, his scratchy, annoying voice disturbing the peace, “Alright, I’m sure you all have probably talked amongst yourself—and yes, Jason is in the hospital, but the doctors are pretty sure it was an animal attack. We’re not planning on cutting the weekend short, but we are setting a curfew—everyone needs to be in the cabin by nine, no excuses.” There’s a large collective groan from the entire group. Eddie shakes his head slightly in amusement, rubbing at his head tenderly.

“You okay?” You ask quietly, glancing over at him.

“Headache.” He tells you simply, closing his eyes slowly as he leaned his head back against the couch. You tap your fingers against his knee gently, providing him a sense of comfort as he grabs your hand loosely.

“We’ll keep you updated as we learn more,” Higgins explains, “but seriously—keep your asses out of the woods.”

But you knew, in Eddie’s mind, that was a big flashing red sign that said the exact opposite—besides, where else was he supposed to smoke all of the weed he brought with him?

The uneasiness lingers throughout the entire cabin the rest of the day, but for you, it’s one of the last things on your mind. Eddie and Steve seemed tense with each other—and it dawned on you again, they had been rooming with Jason; it was probably freaking both of them out more than they could care to admit.

When you knock on their door that afternoon, you catch the end of what you can only assume was a heavy argument, both of them angrily shoving at things on opposite sides of the room, shoving Jason’s belongings away to be brought downstairs.

“Should I come back later?” You ask awkwardly, peaking through the door, both of them surprisingly startled by your presence.

“We’re fine.” Steve says, tossing the duffel on the floor by your feet. It’s too harsh, too clipped for it to be friendly, he doesn’t want you standing at the door and you can feel it.

Eddie chances a look your way, sending your worry and urges you outside, squeezing himself through the small opening to lead you into the hallway.

“Some people are trying to start rumors,” Eddie explain in a hushed voice, “they think Steve was part of the reason why Jason ended up getting attacked—it doesn’t make any sense, but you know how Steve is—“

“But, we know that’s not true—he was with us last night.” You add, even though it’s obvious information between you and Eddie.

“People talk, though—I’m sure it’ll blow over.” Eddie attempts to reassure you, but you’re not understanding why he’s saying it to you and not Steve—but again, Steve would rather avoid everyone right now.

“Looks like that stuff is going to come in handy,” You emphasize, but Eddie already knows you’re referring to his stash on his bag, “if you can manage to find somewhere to smoke it.”

“I was planning on heading out to the woods after dark anyways,” Eddie shrugged, hands shoved into his back pockets as he leaned his shoulder against the wall, “if you’re so curious to join.”

“The woods?” You ask incredulously, “Seriously? After what just happened?”

“I’ll take my chances.” Eddie laughs, “I’ll protect you—don’t worry.”

You hadn’t even said yes, but it was like Eddie knew, you couldn’t resist an opportunity to be around him.

Eddie tips your chin up with his finger, offering you a warm smile.

“Why don’t you work your sweet girl magic and help with all the rumors?” Eddie suggests, nodding to the group of kids downstairs. “You’re better at socializing than me.”

“I’ll try.” You answer lamely, forcing a tight smile.

“Tonight at eleven.” Eddie tells you, “Don’t be late.”

Whatever the rumors really were, they didn’t have much substance behind them—you eventually found out that it was a harmless comment Chrissy made about Steve being jealous of Jason because he took the captain spot from him, thus spurring him into the undying need to hurt Jason—which just wasn’t true, but Chrissy was rightfully upset, still leaving out the details of what happened with her and Jason in the woods. She did apologize, which ended most of the talk about it, but Eddie still planned to drag Steve out for some time to think, digress, and get high out of their minds, which didn’t sound too bad now.

Which brought you to now, sat on the couch beside Nancy, most of the others already bunked up for the night, allowing you both time to talk, without Robin or Steve or Eddie.

“Are you not worried about him?” You ask Nancy, who shrugs in response.

“He worries about his image a lot, but he’ll get over it.” She takes a moment to pause, eyebrows drawing together in question. “Are you and Eddie ever going to address what’s going on between you both?”

“There’s nothing going on.” You laugh, but it’s unconvincing to Nancy, who stares on knowingly, lips pursed to keep from smiling. “You don’t always have to label everything.”

She nods quietly, pulled out of thought from the phone ringing down the hall. You both freeze in fear, startled by the sudden noise—Robin pops out of the room from above, “Don’t answer that.”

You shake your head slightly, pushing up from the couch, “Well, it’s either answer it or listen to it ring for the rest of the night.”

Nancy hesitates, hand reaching for yours, “—Maybe you should let it ring,”

“God, you two are way too scared.” You say with a tinge of annoyance, walking the short distance to the phone and pressing it to your ear.

“Listen, if you start this phone call off with a question, I’m hanging up.”

You’re met with silence, before the line goes dead abruptly.

You smile triumphantly, pressing the phone back to the wall.

“See, it’s not that—“ Another shrill ring interrupts you, sending Robin halfway down the stairs before you can even comprehend, both of them hurrying to your side to listen.

You press the phone to your ear without hesitation, you meet them with silence instead this time. There’s a faint hum on the other line—breathing, maybe? Then a voice.

“Cocky, I like that.” The robotic voice responds, unsettling your nerves slightly. Both Nancy and Robin’s eyes widen in panic, but you’re not entirely convinced this isn’t just another stupid senior prank. “Where are you right now?”

“If you’re calling, I’m sure you know.” You respond snarkily, attempting to silently comfort both of your friends, “Where are you?”

“You don’t get to ask questions.” The voice snaps, but you feel nothing.

“Are you alone?” They ask, voice tipping up slightly on the last word, intrigued by the idea. You lie.

“Yeah.” You say, “Just me, all alone.”

“And you wouldn’t lie to me?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” You tell them with an overly sweet tone, enjoying the low level game they were playing at.

“Good—because if you were; I’d have to kill you.”

You tense slightly, watching the worried expression of your friends turn to horror.

“Instead, I’ll just go for one of your classmates—how does that sound?”

“Oh, so you’re working alone?” You question, ignoring the earlier warning.

It’s not received well.

“I told you no fucking questions.” The voice rips through the receiver, “You’re going to regret that.”

The line goes dead again, anxiety settling in your body, your brain trying to think of any way this could be turned into a joke—that no one could really be attempting to kill you and your friends.

“Now can we leave?” Robin pleads, pulling at the phone line to disconnect it.

“Do you really believe that shit, Robin?” You ask, “Someone is just trying to scare us.”

“Well, I’m fucking terrified.” She admits, interrupted by a nervous Nancy.

“Wait—Steve and Eddie—we have to go get them.” Nancy tells you.

You can tell by the look on their faces that it wasn’t going to be either of them risking their lives, so by default, it ends up being you.

“Fine, I’ll go fetch your boyfriend.” You give in, shoving past the two of them, but Nancy stops you with her hand around your wrist, “What—“

“Here,” She scrambled toward the kitchen, running back to hand you a measly kitchen knife, a butter knife at best, unlikely to fend off anything bigger than a squirrel, but you take it to soothe her anxiousness, “for protection.”

If anything wanted to attack you outside, you weren’t going to be able to stop it with your hands, let alone some knife, but you went anyway.

Both Eddie and Steve are laughing obnoxiously when you approach them, unbeknownst to your presence, knife still clutched tightly in your hand. The snap of dry branches pulling their attention toward your dark figure as it lurched from the shadows.

“Woah, sweetheart—“ Eddie says with wide eyes, hands held up in defense as he sees you posed, weapon at the ready, “care to explain the murderess look in your eyes?”

“Nancy wants you back at the cabin,” You point to Steve, motioning with the knife in the direction of the house. Steve and Eddie share a look, long and difficult to decipher from an outside perspective, but you ignore it, desperate for Steve to leave, “she’s pretty freaked out—Robin too.”

“Are they okay?” Steve asks, earning an if of surety from you.

“Nance just wants you back, I wouldn’t keep her waiting.”

Eddie gives Steve a knowing look, tapping his arm gently, “Remember—no sex, they’re always the first ones to get slashed.” Steve shakes his head in annoyance before leaping from the table in a hurry, jogging back toward the house without much of a word, knowing that Nancy would have it out for him if he didn’t.

You drop the knife to the ground immediately, Eddie approaching you without hesitation, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Look, I’m really trying to hold my shit together, right now.” You say slowly, eyes closing to calm your breathing, Eddie’s hands rubbing gently at your shoulders, “But, we just got a call back at the house—and I’m fucking freaking out.”

“Hey, hey—“ Eddie says softly, “everyone knows it’s the anniversary of all the shit that happened last year—someone’s probably trying to scare you, that’s it.”

“That’s what I was trying to tell Nance and Robin,” You explain, “but—you know, what if—“

“Here,” Eddie says, holding up the rolled joint, ultimately ending the conversation and soothing your worries, “light up and forget, alright? She’s all yours.”

“You’re a terrible influence.” You tell him, plucking the joint from his fingers and following him toward the picnic table, climbing until you’re seated on the top, Eddie squeezing onto the bench below you, shifting until he was seated between your outstretched legs. You let him light up the joint before pulling it to your mouth, breathing in until it stung.

“See? All your problems float away, like that.” Eddie jokes, snapping his fingers for show.

You sigh softly, joint held tight between your fingers as you look down at him, “How are you so calm?”

“Well, I’m really high—so that helps,” Eddie laughs slightly, “but the more you think about it, the more it’s going to bother you—I mean, look at Robin.”

“So, I shouldn’t be worried about that call?” You ask, like validation from Eddie would solve all your problems.

He was always the fix-all; Eddie knew the right things to say, when to say them, to a disturbing degree, almost—but it helped comfort you like nothing else ever could.

“No.” He tells you simply, you believe him.

“And the chance that a mountain lion might come and attack us right now?”

“I’ll fight it off with your butter knife,” Eddie jokes, “problem solved.”

“I’m serious,” You stress, face pleading with him.

“Close your eyes,” Eddie says, your eyes fall shut obediently, “listen—do you hear that?”

There isn’t a sound to be heard, not a gust of wind, a crackle in the deeper part of the woods, only the soft slush of the water as it moved within the lake.

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly—there’s nothing to worry about. It’s just us.”

Eddie’s hand circles the span of your ankle, rubbing soft gentle touches into the skin, your head tipping back as you finish off the joint, passing along what you couldn’t smoke the rest of, Eddie taking it on greedily. Eddie was always very touchy, but it intensified at times like these—and your skin burned, tingled with electricity as your mind wandered, feeling like it was floating away.

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone.” You ask Eddie, head tilting up to look at him, his eyes spread over the expanse of your thighs, skin exposed from the shorts you wore. “Not even Steve.”

“I’m an open book,” Eddien replies plainly, “you already know everything.”

You scoff, “Lame.” You move further up the table, feeling bold, ass nearing the edge as you fall into Eddie’s lap, his hands latching onto your waist instinctively. It’s the first time you’ve ever seen him look genuinely shocked, mouth hung open slightly as you spoke again, “fine—I’ll go.”

“I know I should feel bad about Jason being hurt, but I don’t.” You shrug and Eddie smirks slightly at that, knowing all too well. “That prick deserves everything that’s coming to him.”

“You’re still upset at him for exposing that picture all around school, aren’t you?” Eddie teases, it wasn’t much of a sore subject anymore—a joke, sometimes, but he never tried bringing it up unless you did first.

“I was stupid for trusting him.” You admit honestly, through your haze of unfiltered thoughts, “Now the entire class knows what my tits look like.”

Eddie makes a small noise of amusement, “I guess this can count as a secret, seeing as you’re my best friend and Steve would gouge his ears out if I told him this,” You’re apprehensive to hear now, but Eddie continues, “I liked them.”

You shove Eddie with a weak force, “I thought you said you didn’t see it!”

“I lied,” He shrugs calmly, watching your face heat up, “does that make you uncomfortable now?”

You shake your head slightly, the sudden proximity feeling charged, his hands squeezing gently at your hips for a brief moment.

“Don’t move.” Eddie instructs hotly, breath ghosting over your chest as he leans into you, his face barely visible in the darkness, the faint glow of the cabin helping you make out the more basic features of his face. His wide eyes looked full black, you weren’t sure you recognized him, but it still felt like him. “I’m gonna kiss you.”

Your breath catches, hands falling to his knees where they’re spread out beneath you, stabilizing you on his lap as he pulls you closer—he wasn’t asking or hoping, he was taking; and god forbid you deprive yourself of something you wanted just as bad.

He kisses like fire—hot and intense, lips smashing against yours messily, no rhythm or care; just pure need and want. It felt like being swallowed whole, savored. You couldn’t get enough. He grunts, hands digging into the swell of your ass as you pull back, your bottom lip caught between his teeth as he pulls gently, releasing it slowly.

You sigh, a long exhale, “We should get back to the cabin.” You say with deep regret, but couldn’t stand another moment outside being eaten up by bugs and covered in a sheen of humidity induced sweat.

Eddie makes a noise, neither approval or disagreement, like he’s not totally listening—but then the lights to cabin cut off, followed by a high pitched scream that pulls you both from the moment—you jump off of Eddie’s lap so quickly he falls off the bench, barely catching himself with his hands.

“The hell was that?” You ask in a panic, grabbing desperately for his hands to help him up.

“Maybe it was a power surge.” Eddie tries to remain levelheaded, but it’s followed by another bloodcurdling scream. “Okay—maybe not—here, go.” He shoved you off toward the direction of the cabin, running back to his supplies sitting on the table, “I’ll catch up with you, I promise.”

“Eddie.”

“I promise,” He assures you once more, “go.”

The run back to the cabin is short, a concerned Robin meeting you at the front door, looking far more terrified than earlier.

“The power’s out,” Robin says in a panic, pushing you outside of the doorway, “Steve’s trying to get it back on and Nancy went to wake up Principal Higgins—“

“Robin,” You call out to your rapidly talking friend, pulling at the item coughed in her hand, “what’s with the keys?”

“It’s just—just a precaution,” Robin explains, pointing at the bus parked down the road, “—I told you—things felt weird from the beginning. I wasn’t lying.”

You glance back at the vehicle, an idea springin on you, “Wait, come here,” You grab at Robin’s hand; dragging her along with you until you reach the door of the bus, prying it open, “—better safe than sorry, right? See if it’ll start..”

Robin doesn’t hesitate, squeezing through the small space until she can reach the driver’s seat, shoving the key into the ignition—she turns it once, a hopeful rumble of life from the bus before it cuts short, “More, try turning it faster and holding it.” Robin nods, trying again.

The bus sputters, the entire thing dying out after a few seconds.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Robin exclaims, screaming at the steering wheel.

“Hey—maybe Steve will get the power back on,” You make an attempt at calming her down, “we can plug the phone back in and try to call the police—“

Nancy’s scream rips through the air, her distant running figure hurling toward the bus at a speed that could only be described as panicked, her hands covered in thick, red sludge and face pale with fear.

“Fuck—Nancy, what happened?” You ask, grabbing her outstretched arms to steady her shaking.

“Mr—Mr. Clark and—and Mr. Mundy,” Nancy stammers, eyes welling with tears as they glazed over, “I saw them—I saw it—it killed them.”

Robin shoved through the accordion door, “Who?” She presses, keys gripped tightly in her hand, “Who killed them?”

“I don’t—I don’t know.” She shakes her head, “The mask—they had the same mask. It was the same person. It has to be.”

“They arrested him.” You assured her, “It can’t be.”

“Then it’s someone else!” She spits back, broken from her frozen state of fear, pulling her arms back, blood splattering against your face. “I’m covered in—oh my god—where’s Steve?”

“He’s still trying to get the power on,” Robin points out, “what about Eddie?” Their heads immediately turn to you.

“He had to pack up his stuff in the woods—“

Nancy gives you a weird look.

“Weed—Nance, we were smoking.”

“Wait, how close are the woods to those cabins—and the generator?” Robin asks, trying to stay level headed enough to piece things together.

By some horrible, unfortunate coincidence, the cabins are settled just a handful of feet away from where you and Eddie had been only a few minutes ago, not far off from Steve either, which makes the three of you jump into action—until you’re turning the corner of the cabin, meet with the two men you were so frantically looking for.

“Nance—Nancy?” Steve shouts, running toward her in a rush, staring at her blood covered hands in shock, “Are you hurt?”

She shakes her head profusely, “No—no, I’m not.”

“Did you get the power on?” You ask, staring up at Steve from where he was curled around Nancy, hugging her shaking body.

“Someone cut the lines,” He tells you, “Eddie tried helping, but we’re screwed—“

“Wait,” Eddie cuts in, glancing over Nancy’s disheveled figure, “why are you covered in blood?”

“Clarke and Mundy, they’re dead.” You explain for her, knowing that Nancy wouldn’t be able to explain it again, not with the state she was in. “Whatever was here last year, it’s back and it killed them in front of her.”

“So, we’re leaving then.” Eddie says, like it’s the most obvious option.

“One small problem, dipshit—“ Robin says with an immense amount of snark, “They fucked with the bus, too. We’re stuck here until morning,”

“Someone needs to get Higgins,” Nancy says softly, “If he’s even still alive.”

“And we need to make sure everyone’s awake and knows what’s going on.” You tell the group, pointing at Robin, “Maybe you can find someone who has a phone with them and can call—“

“Didn’t Higgins take everyone’s phones before we left?” Steve asked, something you had completely overlooked. “Can we even trust him?”

“We’re talking about a group of teenagers, Steve.” Robin replies, “Someone is bound to have snuck one in. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it—you should go clean Nancy up.”

“Eddie and I can go look for Principal Higgins.” You offer, grabbing at Eddie’s hand, his own grip giving a squeeze. “We’ll meet back here in an hour, if we’re not back, come looking for us.”

Steve slowly guides Nancy toward the front door, a nervous Robin on their trail. “We will, be safe.” She tells you, receiving a nod from both you and Eddie before they disappear behind the threshold of the door.

“Still with me?” Eddie asks, a slight hopefulness to his voice. “I can go by myself if you’re too scared.”

“You’re not going by yourself.” You say with finality, “Do you still have your pocket knife on you?” He nods, pulling the tiny switchblade from his front pocket and presenting it to you.

You grab it with ease, pulling the blade out and grasping the handle tightly in your palm. “Look—now I can defend myself.”

“Yeah, from someone with a fear of papercuts.” Eddie jokes, flicking the tiny blade with his fingertips.

“This isn’t suspicious, right?” You ask, shoving open the unlocked door to the empty cabin, not a soul in sight beside you and Eddie, who crowds in behind you, closing the door for safety. “Principal Higgins?!” You call out, mouth immediately clasped over by Eddie’s palm, effectively shushing you.

“What are you doing?” He asks in a hushed voice, “Are you trying to draw the killer here or something?”

“Sorry,” You say impishly, tugging his hand away gently, “—maybe we should take a look around.”

“For safety?” Eddie asks with a small quirk to his eyebrow.

“And curiosity," You tell him honestly, sifting through the dresser drawers haphazardly, shifting and shoving clothes to the side, “it doesn’t hurt to look.”

Eddie shrugs, joining in your search, peeking through the duffel bags placed one the circular table shoved in the corner of the room by the front door, a remedy of normal toiletries and random items that didn’t make much sense to him.

“He could already be back at the cabin,” You suggest, disappointed in your lack of discovery, aside from his terrible choice in clothing, “did you find anything?”

Eddie doesn’t answer you at first, back hunched over as he searches through the bag. You approach him slowly, nudging gently at his waist until he answers you, “Hey, you okay?”

“Well, if he’s not killing people, he’s definitely a grade A creep,” Eddie says into the quiet room, slapping a small stack of Polaroids on the table.

You shifted until you were beside him, alternating through the pictures—various girls in different states of undress, some during the day that were taken from inside his cabin, girls dressed down in the swimsuits, but the more disturbing ones—a few of the cheerleaders, asleep in their bed; meaning he would have had to sneak into the cabin and into the room quietly enough that they wouldn’t be disturbed—but that was already unsettling enough.

“Part of me is relieved that I’m not in here,” You admit selfishly, “is that horrible of me to say?”

Eddie shakes his head, “No—I wouldn’t have let that happen.”

“Oh, really?” You ask, slightly intrigued. “Because you knew that Higgins was up to no good and you were hoping to be my knight in shining armor?” It’s a harmless joke, your hand releasing the Polaroids as they scattered back onto the table. “I don’t need you to save me, Eddie.”

“I’m aware.” Eddie chuckles slightly, turning slightly to face you, sitting against the table, fingers curling around the edge. “I know how well you can handle yourself—you always have.”

You bat your eyes sweetly, “Eddie, are you really trying to put the moves on, right now?” Eddie shrugs nonchalantly, “Eddie—“

“Is it working?” Eddie asks hopefully, his foot carefully sneaking between your parted ones, nudging at your shoes until you lose balance, forcing you to fall against him.

“Eddie—people are dead,” You point out, “Jason was hurt the other night, Nancy and Robin are back at the cabin freaking out—and someone threatened to kill me over the phone—“

“Yet, there’s no one around,” Eddie points out, “there’s no screaming—look at me,” He taps at your chin with his finger, pushing your face up to meet his, “I mean it—look at me.”

Your eyes pull to his, his wide doe eyes glazed black in this light, penetrating your very essence of being, almost like you couldn’t help but be entranced by the things he was telling you, the way he was looking at you—touching you.

“I’ve been trying to get you alone,” He admits, sending a chill of excitement down your spine, mixed with a hint of apprehension and arousal, “but you were always busy—“

“But, the other night—with Steve and Nance—“

“Alone,” He insists, “just me, just you.”

“We do that all the time back in Hawkins—what’s the difference?”

Eddie smiles sadly, pushing stray hair from your face, his fingers pressing into the dip at the base of your neck, pulling it taut gently, “Feels like we’re running out of time, right? Feels like I’m gonna lose you.”

“Eddie—I’m not leaving.” You reassure him, “I’ll always be there, whenever you need me.”

“Promise?” Eddie asks softly.

You nod gently, eyes peeking a glance to his soft lips, jutting out slightly from the front on his face, before slowly moving back up his face. Eddie catches it, feeds off of it.

“Say it.”

“I promise.” You tell him, not a shake or waver in your voice.

You felt shift long after Eddie, he knew it for the moment you stepped inside the cabin—the unwarranted tension, thick and permeating between you both. It was strong now, after earlier in the night, now just a few minutes after midnight—you wanted him to kiss you again—again, and again, until you couldn’t even remember your name. It felt ludicrous and maybe it was the lingering high, despite being freaked out of your mind, you still balanced an unnatural sense of calm. And Eddie seemed unphased, unconcerned—so you followed suit, knowing that as long as you were near him, you’d be fine. Eddie had always protected, that would never change.

You shift between his outstretched legs, tugging idly at the at leather chained bracelet secured around his wrist, letting the hand fall to your thigh, feeling Eddie squeeze until you get message, hiking your leg up and over his own silently, letting him repeat the same process with the other side—and suddenly he’s got your legs secured around his hips, leading you toward the half made bed, neither of you uttering a word until your back hits the mattress.

“Eddie—“ You begin, cut off by his soothing voice.

“Shut your mind off, sweetheart.”

“Didn’t you—you say that the people who have sex always end up getting killed first?” You ask with a slight joking tone, his mouth working underneath your shirt, lips dragging over the soft skin of your stomach, catching on the firm underwire of your bra, his nose nudging the material further and further up your body.

“What a way to die,” He says with a dramatic sigh of relief, eyes crinkling from the laugh he lets out, your face scrunched up in disbelief, “—we’ll be okay, trust me.”

“We don’t even have a condom.” Eddie nips at the top of your breast, tongue leading a line of your collarbone until your shirt is shoved under your neck, leaving you no option but to remove it, fabric falling to the floor with little care.

“Do we need one?” Eddie asks boldly. It wasn’t like you didn’t trust him—Eddie didn’t get much action outside of his hand and it was very apparent, despite his constant refusal to admit it to you—things already felt off, but Eddie is desperate to comfort you, “I can pull out?”

It feels ridiculous in the moment, hearing him say it, but you nod hesitantly, pulling at the edge of his shirt until he understands, material pulling over his wild mess of curls, his hair falling in your face. You laugh softly, shoving it away and guiding Eddie’s mouth to yours, sufficiently silencing him for a moment, aside from the quiet groans of pleasure he let slip against your lips, tongue begging to slip through and into your mouth, wandering hands pulling at your jean shorts until you’re letting him wiggle them down your hips, not once pulling away from his mouth.

“Wanna taste,” He breathes against you, tongue dipping past your parted lips, triggering a sharp intake of breath, “—all of you.” Your cunt pulses at the thought, the thick fabric of Eddie’s jeans rubbing against your thighs and you grimace, the sensitivity of your skin making it feel uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your jeans,” You tell him, feeling slightly ridiculous, “take them off.”

“Can you ask nicely?” Eddie teases.

Your face falls, emotionless against his smiling face. “Take them off.”

Eddie smiles even wider, quickly releasing his hold on you to pull at the belt and button of his jeans, shifting his pants down his legs until he can kick them away. You take note of his expression, looking smug from behind the obvious haze of lust.

“Do you like being bossed around?” You laugh softly, feeling you discovered something new, something Eddie had been trying to hide from you.

“By you, maybe,” Eddie shrugs, lifting you with ease until your head hits the pillow, squealing softly as you go, “—assertiveness looks good on you.”

“Almost as good as you look on me,” You say sultrily, pulling Eddie down for a deep-rooted kiss, his hands twisting around your thighs to hike them up again, feet crossed loosely over his back, “—in me, too, if you hurry it up.”

And Eddie was a man of action, so he doesn’t waste anymore time, his hands slipping under your panties in a hurry, yanking them down your legs until he can throw them away in a random corner of the room, his mouth connecting with your center in an instant, the gasp you let out is startling, hand shooting out to prop yourself up, body curling in on itself as Eddie works away, licking a broad stripe up your cunt and back, nosing at your clit with urgency, your other hand fisted tightly in his hair as your hips rocked against his face out of instinct. “Eddie,” You moan out, “—feels so good, more—“ You can’t breathe, overtaking with the stimulation—you fall back in defeat, letting the feeling flood through, his hands gripping at your inner thighs, pulling them wide and tight into his grip, his eyes peeking up from below, daring you to make contact, begging to see just how fucked out you are.

Eddie pulls back for a second, “Look at me,” He demands, his mouth latching back on, tongue flicking gently at your swollen clit, waiting patiently until you can muster the courage, eyes falling open to connect with his, face flushed with pleasure and embarrassment, mouth held open on a gasp that gets caught in your throat, the muscles in his face twitching as he works away at you, hearing the wet squelch of slick that comes from you as he sneaks a hand in too, middle finger pressing into you slowly, “—that’s right, need you to remember who’s making you feel this good.”

“I don’t think I could forget,” You laugh breathlessly, a loud moan ripping from your throat as Eddie curls his finger, pulling back slightly to watch his finger disappear inside of you, he loses his focus, ignoring the soft calls of his name until you finally raise your voice, “—Eddie, come here.”

He lifts up slowly, rising to his knees as you shift forward, your head level with his chest as he looks down at you, hand still covered in your wetness as it flexes, his rings shifting with the movement.

“Open.” He says softly, using his other hand to pull at your bottom lip, parting your mouth until your tongue peeks out, eyes peering up at him. His hand raises slowly, slipping to the tip of his middle finger over the flat of your tongue, more and more, until the edge of his ring hits your lip, “Suck.”

You weren’t initially turned off by the idea, only slightly hesitant as your lips closed over his finger, sucking gently, the warmth of your mouth and soft press of your tongue constricting around his finger, a slightly pressure as he pressed down testingly, pushing just a bit further until your eyes are watering, nearly gagging. Eddie pulls back carefully, staring down at you with a special kind of adoration; something you couldn’t decipher right now, he smiles softly, forcing you to return the sentiment.

You’re too impatient now, staring up at him with eager eyes, hands pulling at the band of his underwear, “Do you want me to?” You ask softly, nodding toward the obvious tent in his boxers, his cock straining against the thin material.

Eddie shakes his head hesitantly, “I’m gonna be honest, sweetheart—if the sight of your mouth around my fingers is enough to kill me, I’m not sure I can handle it around my dick—not right now at least.” You laugh softly at his honesty, letting Eddie push you further and further against the bed, shifting his underwear down in the process, “Plus, I’d really like to be inside of you more.”

“Oh?” You voice lilts, breasts shifting underneath your bra, jumping slightly at Eddie’s movements. It was a small oversight he missed, too eager to please you, but he noticed now, flicking at the small black bow in the middle of your breasts, finger slipping under the stiff centerpiece, shifting your breasts upwards. He doesn’t need to verbalize that he wants it off, you can see the way his face turns, almost demanding, rather than questioning. You smile with amusement, hand slipping behind your back to release the clasp, letting Eddie pull it from your body with ease, your body on full display before him.

Eddie’s hands caress the lines of your body, up and down, exploring with care, stopping at the curve of your hips, squeezing gently, “Can I be on top?” You ask shyly, your hands falling to his, traveling up the expanse of his arm, squeezing in return.

Eddie nods eagerly, spinning you with a ferocity that has you both laughing, your hands slapping against his chest in a hope to stable yourself, wet core sliding against the line of his cock, his breath coming out in a stutter, even more forceful as you grab his shaft with a gentle grip, settling onto him with ease, the mixed pitch of sighs joining together, whatever line that you two had originally drawn was crossed and long forgotten about.

“Fuck,” Eddie sighs, hands resting up by his head as you shift forward slightly, a slow gentle rock of your hips as you accustomed yourself to him, the stretch of his cock welcoming but intense, you watched as his hands balled into fists, uncurling and curling every few seconds, unsure of what to do with his hands. You lean back, hands placed back on his thighs as you bring your hips down in one sharp movement, spiraling both of you into a mess of loud groans, your head falling back, eyes closed as you focus on the intense feeling of Eddie inside of you.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” You say honestly, breath hitched as your thighs tighten, there’s a faint ruffling sound, but you’re too distracted, hips rocking in time with his thrusts, “—can you?”

Eddie chuckles lightly, feeling the cold press of metal against your inner thigh, the deep indent of his rings as he presses harder, until it’s bordering on pain, pulling your attention back to him.

But it isn’t his rings, it’s a knife—not his pocket knife, a large, threatening, very real knife, pressed along the line of your inner thigh, blade poised against the skin. Your first instinct is to jump, push away, but Eddie senses the apprehension immediately, a firm grip on your leg as he pushes the metal further, barely cutting the skin.

“I’ve waited a long time, sweetheart.” He states, still sounding like Eddie, feeling like Eddie, but his face is different—it’s still him, mostly, but there’s a weird pull at his smile, his eyes less wide and innocent, like he’s not really himself, but still vividly aware of what he’s doing. “I don’t think you really know.”

You jerk away, expecting the moment to be broken, but it only seems to spur Eddie on further. You don’t feel scared, or terrified—but startled, yes.

“What the fuck?” You say viciously, gripping the wrist that held the knife. “This isn’t funny, Eddie.”

“Let go,” He says through gritted teeth, yanking harshly at your hand until you release him, he pushes further into the skin, a small trail of blood slipping down your legs. You wince, jolting away from the blade, blood spilling down your thigh onto his, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Your eyebrows pull together in frustration, “You just cut me.” You say with a harsh tone, causing Eddie to shoot up, pulling the blade from your leg to press against the center of your throat, blunt edge pressed against the skin as the tip barely grazes the line of your neck. You tense, forcing yourself to be still, watching Eddie examine your expression, a faint smirk pulling at his face.

“But, I didn’t hurt you,” He says softly, free hand moving to caress the side of your face, thumb rubbing the shivering line of your bottom lip, “I didn’t tell you to stop moving, did I?”

It feels ridiculous, trying to move or run away, so you listen, allowing Eddie to lead the movements, his voice coming through a few seconds later, “Unless you’d like to stop,” He offers, “I was enjoying myself—I know you are too. I just wanted to talk, sweetheart.”

You nod slightly, careful of the knife, “Then talk,” You instruct, voice light and airy as Eddie’s hand traveled to your backside, curling around the curve of your ass as you moved, allowing him to chase whatever morbid pleasure he was after, “or go ahead and kill me, if that’s what you’re after.”

“No, no, no,” Eddie coos, leaning in to drag his lips down your chest, catching up the hardened bud of your nipple, cold metal still pressed firmly against your skin, “I couldn’t ever kill you—wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Are you trying to scare me?” You ask softly, voice shaking, “Is it you, Eddie? Please—just be honest with me.”

“Don’t be scared,” He soothes, lips dragging higher, voice muffled against your skin until his lips can latch against your throat, alongside the blade, dragging small, light patterns into your skin. Your breath catches, body fighting between pleasure and fear, still overwhelmed by Eddie and the care and love you held toward him, but terrified out of your mind that this might be your last moment of life, “I can explain, if you’ll listen—but I want you to finish—want you to feel good.”

You feel like you’re losing your mind, like part of you might actually enjoy whatever show Eddie was putting on; fake or not. He pulls the knife away, flipping it in his hand to set it aside, turning his full attention back toward you as his arms tighten around your middle, lifting you with ease as you fall against him, arms sling over his shoulders as he fucks into you, legs spread wide over his thighs. You gasp, pulling tightly at the hair near the nape of his neck, earning a pained grunt in return.

You can see the knife at his back, just barely out of reach, mind working hard to come up with a way to grab it, throw it, get it away—anything, but your eyes curiously travel upwards, catching sight of the horrifically familiar mask from where it had slipped out from under the pillow, having been deeply tucked away and out of sight. You gasp in horror and arousal, Eddie’s rough, calloused hands searching between you both until he finds your clit, rubbing slow, languid circles until you’re nothing but a mess; moaning, begging, forgetting everything but the feeling of him inside you and all over you, sighing out his name as you come, feeling ashamed but overpowered with euphoria—finally achieving something with Eddie that you craved for so long, but conflicted with whatever emotion you were feeling in the moment, you couldn’t pinpoint it.

“Shit—gonna come too,” Eddie warns, the sound of his voice more comforting, more him, “move, sweetheart.”

“No,” You challenge—and maybe you’ll regret it later, but it feels right, it feels like everything you need, “you can—it’s okay.”

Eddie pulls back, looking back at you with a vulnerability you’ve only ever seen once, in a moment of deep connection, his eyes closed, face buried into your chest as he tenses, coming inside you with a rough grip on your thighs, hips working gently through the aftershocks.

And it’s the only opportunity you have in the small window distraction, hand slipping down discreetly to pull at the knife, grabbing a fistful of hair to yank his head back, knife poised at his throat.

“Now talk,” You demand, pressing the knife in further, “is it Higgins? Or have you been lying to me this whole time?”

“It’s me. It’s me.” He says in desperation, face drawn up in pain as you pull hard, a strangled moan of discomfort slipping from his lips. “I want to explain. I want to talk. Sweetheart—come on.”

You press harder, urging him further. You weren’t handing over that power, even when he subtly shifts to pull out of you, legs still squeezed tightly over his lap, keeping him at bay.

“You don’t know how it feels,” He says quietly, “to kill someone. It’s exhilarating—like a drug, I can’t describe it.”

“Try.”

“I wanted you.” He admits, “I wanted you by my side.”

“What?”

“Don’t act innocent,” He smiles slightly, “I know you’ve thought about it—what it feels like.”

You pull back slightly, feeling exposed. You weren’t crazy, you didn’t feel crazy, but deep down, part of you believes him. You can’t tell if it’s confused by the love you held for Eddie, or the innate fear of losing your friend, or him having never really been himself at all—maybe it had always been a show.

“I wanted to ask you last year, but we weren’t close enough.” He admits, swallowing noticeably, “You were shy—but I knew. You’re just like me.” He says with a faint laugh, “We’re practically the same person—I know you see that.”

“So that means I’m a fucking murderer?” You ask with a bite, pressing the knife into his skin until it bleeds a tinge of red, Eddie hisses, jerking away with no success. “I’m nothing like you.”

“Not yet,” He says boldly, “everyone is capable deep down—with the right motivation.”

“So, how did you do it?” You ask curiously, tightening your grip on his hair from where he’d slipped loose, Eddie makes a small noise of discomfort, nostrils flaring.

“Last summer?” He asks with a faint smirk on his face, “I ran solo—it wasn’t what I wanted, but it ran smoother than this time.”

“This time?” You ask, trying to pick at what he was hinting around.

“Think, sweetheart.” He teases, pushing against the blade slightly, “Use that pretty little brain of yours.”

It’s a seems like a simple process of elimination, but with one of your closest friends posed beneath you, confessing to murdering over a dozen teenagers, it wasn’t that easy. You cross Robin and Nancy off immediately though, knowing they couldn’t be capable—

“I see the gears turning,” Eddie sings, “I’ll give you three guesses.”

“And if I get them wrong?”

“Then you give me my knife back,” Eddie says simply, “and I’ll tell you why you’re wrong.”

“Jason?” It seemed completely out of the ballpark, but it was still a shot. “I’m guessing you’re a man down.”

“Huh, no. He’s lucky to be alive—if it had been me, he wouldn’t have made it out.”

“God—this entire time, Eddie—you were lying to me—“

“Next guess.” He pressed, ignoring you.

Your jaw clenches, shoving the tip of the knife up by his ear, blade scraping against the barely growing scruff, “Fuck, I don’t know—Chrissy?”

“You think I have a fetish for working with people that hate me? Let’s think a little closer to home.” Eddie says with a laugh, the small slip drilling into your mind, causing you to immediately pull back, dropping the knife and shoving yourself off his lap.

“No,” You say softly, pulling at your clothes, scrambling and slipping to dress yourself to some degree, “no, no, no.”

If it weren’t for Eddie and Steve pushing this trip so hard, you would have never gone, content with staying back in Hawkins and never seeing half of these people again, contained in your small bubble of friends, but it hits you in phases—thinking back on every single interaction you’ve ever had.

Eddie was never overly obsessed with you, but Steve had showed a quickly growing interest, pulling you into the friend group with ease, shoving you into their daily routine and making your transition from mostly sticking to yourself to hanging out almost every day, being thrusted into the unnatural social circle that Steve had created for himself, always finding more comfort in hiding away with Eddie than anything else—it was the main reason you two had grown so close, so fast.

“Steve—he wouldn’t—” You tell him, shirt clutched to your chest.

Eddie moves slowly, reaching for his discarded underwear and jeans, pulling them on as he spoke, “Steve is—interesting,” Eddie says carefully, mincing his words for Steve��s sake, he buttons his jeans, standing shirtless as he approaches you, “—this is why I wanted you alone. I needed you to hear me out.”

“You’re insane. Both of you.” You say harshly, extending your hands out to push Eddie away, but you don’t put up much of a fight when he shoves past, pulling your face into his hands gently. “Where’s Higgins?” You ask quietly, eyes pulling up to connect with Eddie’s; you couldn’t feel scared, because it still felt like himself, he still looked like himself.

“Tied up, out back, he's out for the night,” Eddie tells you without hesitation, “you see, I have this plan; it’s all going to be on him. Higgins is a creep, anyways—we can turn it around on him, let him take that fall. No one would ever know.”

“So, you didn’t kill him?” You ask.

He shakes his head slowly, “No—the other two, yeah.”

You exhale shakily, “But—why Steve? How?”

“I always wanted it to be you by my side,” He admits, “but Steve found out at the beginning of the school year—picking through my shit like the nosy fucker he is. I don’t think you understand how unhinged he is—“

“And you’re not?” You counter, feeling like it was a weak attempt to justify his actions.

“Sweetheart, what do you think? Do I seem unhinged?” He asks calmly, “Who do you think tried to kill Jason?”

“Not you.”

Eddie nods, “Bingo—Steve couldn’t even get the knife through, started slashing because he panicked—Jason will never know, probably won’t even remember any of it, but Steve was never capable of this shit, not the way he wanted to be.”

“But, why me?” You ask with a gentle frown, tears burning your eyes. “Why don’t you just kill me? That’s what you want, right?”

Eddie shakes his head, further reassuring that you were never who he was after.”Steve planned all of this for you—he wanted to be the one to kill you.”

“What?”

“He got a little obsessed,” Eddie tells you, “kept talking to me about how we should do it, when we should do it—and I couldn't break his poor heart, not at first.”

You feel dirty, disgusting, betrayed, every possible emotion that could be felt in the human body, you’d felt tonight.

“So—if I go back to the house—,” You try to calm your breathing, taking it slow and steady, despite the obvious quiver to your tone, “I’m dead?”

“Not unless you do what I say when the time comes,” Eddie tells you carefully, “You listen to me—everything I say; you’ll be fine.”

“What happens from here?” You ask with apprehension.

“Steve kinda wrecked my plans—I didn’t mean to kill those two in front of Nancy—I never even planned to hurt her, but he’s a terrible partner—god, you would’ve been perfect.” He trails off, your hands snatching his own away from your face.

“Eddie.” You warn, “Get me out of here. Now—or I’m killing you.”

Eddie offers a knowing smirk—he already knew what it would take for his dream to become reality.

“Listen to me carefully,” He begins, pointing to the cabin in the distance, “You’re going to run back there, find Nancy and Robin, let Steve come to you. Do not end up alone with him—I’m serious. Despite how horrible he is at going through with shit, I don’t think he’ll have trouble with you—not with how obsessed he's been about you.”

You nod carefully, trying to grasp how you’ve ended up in such a bizzare turn of events, standing in front of your best friend, a threat; murderous enough to kill people, but not you, for whatever reason. It felt like a horrible fucking nightmare you couldn’t escape. You force your top back on, pulling at the handle until the door creaks open, Eddie grips at your arm before you take a step.

“I’ll be there.” He assures you, eyes lingering on your emotionless face until he decides to let go, the pit in your stomach grows larger, feeling like you were about to be swallowed by whatever long, impending doom had been following you all night.

“Nance?” You scream out at the head of the cabin, a suffering silence overtaking the lake, aside from a faint ruffling inside the house. “Robin?!”

You didn’t hear anyone, not your friends, not anyone else—like they had all fled, which considering the knowledge you had now, was probably for the best, but it still send a deep tinge of worry through your body, wondering if they weren’t all just dead inside—was Steve really capable of that?

You push the door open, the door creaking to a stop in the dead silence. You call out their names again; nothing—but there’s a noise, faint, but close. It sounds like crying, desperate and muffled.

“Hello?” You call out, a small shriek in response, someone desperately trying to get your attention. “Are you hurt?”

Nothing that time, you take it a few feet further, turning the corner to a small library shoved in the corner of the house, two bare feet peeking out from around this bookcase.

You can feel the regret instantly, your feet taking you past the threshold without thinking, cries now becoming whimpers, clearer than ever.

“I can help you—“ You say softly, stepping back slightly as the person stepped forward, turning the blind corner; they weren’t alone, bound with their hands behind their back, knife shoved forcefully against their throat. It was Chrissy, face covered in tear stained mascara.

The person behind them was silent, covered in black robes, that same mask that Eddie had hidden back in Higgins cabin, not so secret anymore. You hear Eddie’s earlier warning, wondering if this was all an elaborate set up.

Maybe this was their plan all along, maybe Steve wasn’t as reckless as Eddie thought. The person cocks their head, knowing that if they spoke, it would give them away immediately—lucky for you, that wasn’t a problem.

Chrissy looks mostly unscathed, aside from the noticeable bruise by her eye, probably used to subdue her before binding her hands. “Let her go,” You suggest gently, but firmly, “let her go and you can have me.”

The masked figure shakes their head, refusing to speak.

“Cat got your tongue?” You tease, “You were very talkative on the phone, you know?”

You can see his grip tightening around the blade and Chrissy tenses, eyes squeezing shut in fear. If Eddie’s words were true, Steve would never be capable.

“But, I thought you were going to kill me?” You asked innocently, “Don’t I ask too many questions?”

“Shut up.” He snaps, “Or you can watch me gut her first.”

Chrissy cries out, face turned away as she wiggles away from the knife with no luck.

You hear the approaching footsteps before you see him, Eddie turning the corner with a focused speed, wasting no time in pushing past you, plunging the knife through Chrissy’s chest with ease, not a single twitch of hesitation. Your mouth falls open in shock, feet stumbling back against the wall as you watch on in horror.

You couldn’t say that you were ever close to Chrissy—you didn’t know her very well and you didn’t know the history between her and Eddie, but didn’t deserve that, it didn’t seem feasible. But, you try to shake the thought from your mind, staring at Eddie—he’s not dressed up, which seemed to throw Steve off track, and he yanks at his mask in frustration.

“What the fuck?” Steve asks loudly, throwing the mask to the ground.

Eddie ignores his frustration, “Nancy, Robin, where are they?”

“They got everyone out of the house, they’re trying to flag down help—or—whatever—why the fuck is she still alive?” Steve glances over at you boldly, your body runs cold.

You didn’t even recognize the person standing in front of you.

“I could ask you the same,” Eddie counters, “but it looks like I took care of that for you, like I have been.”

Your eyes narrow, sensing the growing tension. You take a careful step back, floor creaking underneath your feet, both of their heads shooting in your direction. Steve almost lunges after you, but Eddie has a tight hold on him. Eddie looks at you with intense, pensive eyes, silently begging,

“Don’t. Move.” He says, nodding toward the empty chair. “Sit down.”

You move slowly, carefully, following the edge of the room until you can slip into the seat, watching Steve’s intense gaze follow you the entire way.

“I saved her for you,” Eddie admits; your heart drops, “—there’s no backing out now, Steve. She knows.”

You watch as Eddie adjusts the knife in Steve’s grip, allowing him to get a firm grip, before Eddie’s quietly trailing behind you, hands pressed against the back of the chair, curling over the edge, “She’ll tell Nancy, and Robin—everyone, and we’ll be done.”

“I tried to like you,” Steve says suddenly, his now terrifyingly dark eyes locked on your own, “I really did.”

He steps closer, leaning over the front of your chair, leaving you sandwiched between the both of them, attempting to make yourself feel smaller—and maybe by some miracle, Eddie wasn’t lying; you might not die tonight.

“Now, try not to close your eyes,” Steve tells you, blade pressed carefully over the fabric of your shirt, the sharp prick of the knife seeping through, “it takes the fun out of it.”

Steve’s eyes are locked on yours, you don’t even recognize him, just the shell of a person you thought knew, unaware of the small nudging underneath the chair as Eddie slipped the knife in your hand, poised above you calmly. You grip the knife without hesitation, careful of making any sudden movements. Steve is dragging it out, thinking he has all the time in the world, until he doesn’t—the knife presses in at the same time yours is shoved through his abdomen, Eddie’s hands creeping up around the side of your face, directing your face to the point where the knife met his body, you shoved it deeper, twisting for that extra dose of pain, blood sputtering out of his mouth and into your face.

He stumbles back, hitting the full bookshelf as the books fall to the floor, his hand grasping weakly at the knife stuck in his abdomen, staring up at Eddie with wide, shocked eyes.

“Sorry, Harrington.” Eddie apologizes, “It was always her.”

The adrenaline hits you then, pushing away from the chair and stalking toward Steve, grabbing the knife and tanning it from where it was buried deep in his chest, savoring the way he yells out in pain, blood stained teeth gritting against each other as he clenched down.

“You stupid bitch,” Steve snaps weakly, your eyes narrow, knife pressing against his neck before you can stop yourself, “he’ll kill you—he doesn’t—doesn’t care about you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” You tell him sadly, gripping his hair to pull at his slumping head, “Eddie’s always been there for me.”

Steve opens his mouth again, but the words never fall, knife slicing the line of neck, rendering him voiceless, motionless, the blood and life draining from his eyes as he slumped down completely. It takes a moment for the emotions to settle, but when they do, you don’t feel the regret that you’re expecting, falling back on your hands as the knife clammers to the floor loudly.

“I just killed him,” You say out loud, not to any particular person or for any reason, needing to say it for it to feel real, “He’s dead.”

“And he was going to kill you,” Eddie reminds you, hands slipping underneath your arms to pull you upright, letting your body lean against him for a moment, “you did everything perfectly.”

“I just killed somebody.”

“I know.”

You take a small breath, inhaling through your nose, “Why don’t I feel bad?”

“I told you, sweetheart,” Eddie says, peering down to look at you, eyes shifting over to Chrissy and Steve’s lifeless bodies, “you’re like me.”

“It doesn’t feel right.” Your voice steadies, turning your head up to look at him. “I don’t—I’m not—“

“It gets easier,” Eddie says assuringly, “I’ll teach you.”

“What do we do?” You ask in a slight panic, having already fallen deep into Eddie’s hold—you didn’t have to kill Steve, but you did. You could’ve let him kill you, ended all of this—but you consciously decided against it, feeling that immediate surge of power as you inflicted that severe physical pain on him; normal people would feel disgust, regret, but you felt nothing.

Eddie had always been right, he just needed to show you why.

“I’m gonna clean this up,” Eddie tells you, “you’re gonna clean yourself up—and then you’re gonna find Nancy and Robin—I’m going to do everything I told you I would, sweetheart.”

“Be careful, Eddie.” You feel the need to remind him, “I can’t lose you.”

“We’re in this together now, sweetheart.” Eddie says with a strong sense of finality, “You trust me?”

“Always.” You reply without hesitation.

“Promise me.” He demands.

“I promise, Eddie.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #ghostface!eddie #my writing #1kfic

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