Russian: "Who do you work for?"
Steve: "Scoops. Scoops Ahoy."

Guess the season and or episode if you can. Enter the answer in the comments below

*
She woke with a gasp, eyes fluttering, breath coming short. Darkness. Sheer darkness. An oppressive weight that pressed upon her eyeballs. Heavy, clinging, cold and clammy darkness.

She swiped at the darkness, groping for something tangible to hold on to. Air. Nothing but air. Was she floating? The effect was akin to floating. She couldn't feel her body. Only her mind was awake.

The mind/body disconnect effect lasted a long time. She could breathe, think, move her arms and legs. There was no feeling in them but she could swing her arms and bend her knees all the same.

Her first thought came in slow, like a creaky horse cart, one thought at a time.

Where. Am. I?

An impossible question to answer at this point. Surrounded by darkness was of little help to her. How could she figure out her location if she couldn't see anything? She decided to put her other senses to work. She breathed in deep acquiring a damp, moldy scent in her nostrils. It lodged inside clinging to her nose to the exclusion of all else. Another breath. Metallic. This added scent mingled with the dampness and mold, made a weird combination. Gag reflex combination. Another, stronger odor wafted into her nose as she continued taking deep breaths.

Chemicals? Maybe. Strong enough to make her cough. Smelled like someone tried to clean in an attempt to mask the other smells. Gross. Where am I?

Her thoughts were coming along faster now. Her mind and body reconnected bit by bit until the numb feeling wore off. She flexed her fingers and wriggled her toes. With the numbness gone, the dampness set in. She shivered, teeth chattering. Arms goosepimpled, she rubbed them to no effect. Like rubbing ice on ice, the one made the other colder.

Her hands encountered the thin garment she wore. Short sleeved, the length end mid-thigh. No wonder she was so cold. She searched for a blanket, anything to cover up with. Finding nothing but a thin sheet covering a mattress, she worked at tearing it off the corners.

Her hands, now numb from the cold, fumbled to release the stubborn corners. The sheet held fast to the bed. She figured it must be secured by other means that eluded her at present. She worked her toes back and forth, shifting her legs up and down attempting to get warm.

Her blood circulated faster by the increased pumping of her heart. Little did she know that movement was a good thing, speeding her to a faster recovery. Some warmth crept into her extremities with exercise but she tired quickly. Arms and legs slammed back onto the bed easily exhausted.

How long has she been asleep? Too long, she supposed. Long enough to introduce extreme weakness in her body. She rested for a time, breathing hard. The exercise had done some good. More feeling came back into her body. A sharp, needle-like pain tingled on every nerve. The tips of her toes were the worst spot. They itched and burned. She scratched them which only added pain due to her sharp nails.

After sufficient rest, she attempted to sit up. Her back muscles refused to hold up her spine and she fell against the hard bed, landing with a sharp exhale. She couldn't stay here. She would freeze to death if she didn't find warmer clothing.

Shivers wracked her body now. One big, massive shaking from head to toe. She had to move. She would die if she didn't. Her hands reached to either side of the bed to use as support and encountered metal rails running the length of the bed.

She gripped them tightly and pulled herself up with a loud groan. Her voice came out as gruff. She swallowed, noting the rough pebbly feeling in her throat. Her tongue cleaved to the roof of her mouth. Thirsty. She was so thirsty.

Another reason to get out of this bed. She held fast to the railings, giving her back muscles time to stiffen up and do what they're supposed to do, support her back. Her body quivered in this position then aching started. The sheer pain of holding herself upright made her want to scream.

Still, she refused to give in. If she fell backward this time, she knew she wouldn't be able to get back up. It was now or never. With that in mind, she scooted to the foot of the bed. Took some time to get there sliding a few centimeters forward then resting then sliding some more.

She counted the number of slides just to keep her mind occupied. Off the pain and onto something far more important. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. Nine times of scooting forward just to get to the foot of the bed. This worried her. If it took her so long to get off the bed, how was she going to walk to find water?

Forget it, she told herself, keep moving. To be still was to die. Moving was best. She let her legs dangle over the side, flexing them, swinging them just to make them stronger. It would take everything she had to get off the bed. She wanted as much prep time as possible.

Steeling herself for the possibility of falling, she took firm hold of the railings once again and let herself down to the floor. Immediately, her legs refused to hold her. Remembering her back, she leaned against the bed allowing time for her leg muscles to strengthen. Again she counted, getting up to one hundred twenty by the time her legs remembered what they were supposed to do.

Her knees locked, muscles quivering in her upper thighs and calves. Walking, she felt, would be the trickiest part. She wasn't wrong. Taking a deep breath, she let go of the bed while simultaneously pushing away. She was instantly jerked backward. Arms splayed out. Something was keeping her tied to the bed. Frantically, she searched for the rope and encountered plastic tubes. They were attached to her one in each arm, one in her stomach and one in her groin.

How had she not known they were there? She gritted her teeth and pulled out the ones in her arms, skin tearing, fabric ripping. Her stomach tube came out with a slurping pop. But the groin was the hardest. She took hold of the bed rail with her left hand and tugged it out with her right. The tube resisted. Deep breath in, hold it and she let out a scream as the tube came out.

Pain throbbing, she tottered forward, staggering like some old drunk on the streets and crashed into a solid wall. Dazed by the impact, she reeled from the pain, smarting in her knees hands and toes. The toes were the worst, pain aching long after it subsided in other parts of her body. She explored the wall, dust coming off in huge swaths. Her hands became coated with the stuff. She attempted to wipe it off on her garment then gave it up. Thirst renewed her desire to find water. More important than being dirty.

She turned right, using the wall for support. She walked along, legs aching from the effort to stand and walk. Seemed like she couldn't accomplish both at the same time. Grateful for the wall, she held out high expectations to come to some kind of doorway shortly. The wall continued for what seemed like forever. Going on and on until she feared she would never reach the end of it.

Despite the walking, little warmth entered her body. Her toes, now numb from the cold, no longer ache. Her fingers, equally numb, no longer felt the dust nor the stickiness. Eventually, she reached a corner, she followed the adjacent wall to its conclusion as well. Another corner. She sighed and went further.

Weak from hunger and thirst, she didn't know how much longer she could do this. Her body was already giving out. Dizzy, sparkles wove before her eyes, the only light in the dark room. She knew she ought to sit down but stubbornly put one foot in front of the other, determined to find a way out of this strange room.

What if there is no door?

The thought chilled her. Trapped. She would be trapped. Slowly dying of thirst, she would waste away, her body dying by inches. Alone. No one to remember her. Mourn for her brief existence and untimely death. Terrified of dying alone, she renewed her determination to escape.

But her mind grew befuddled and confused. Hallucinations set in. Images flashed into her mind. Of alarms blaring and lights blinking. Of her lying on the bed being given oxygen. Of a white haired man offering words of comfort. The images, stuck on a loop, terrified her for some reason. She couldn't shake them out of her mind. They lodged there in a perpetual confusion of memories. Were they memories? Or hallucinations? She couldn't be sure.

Suddenly, she struck something hard and unyielding. Blinded by a new pain in her side, she gasped out loud. She groped with her hands feeling the rails, the mattress. The bed! She had come back around to it somehow. Stunned, she gathered her thoughts. Somehow, she had made a wrong turn.

Time to try again. Without allowing a moment to recover from the blow to her hip, she again walked to the foot of the bed, and crashed into the wall. Instead of going right and following the wall again, she turned left, right hand on the wall this time. Her efforts were rewarded, her hand met empty space.

Exploring the space carefully, she gripped the sides of the door frame. With one careful reach of her left hand, she encountered nothing but air. She took a tentative step forward, foot meeting cold linoleum. Solid too. She dared to let go of the door frame and stumbled across the floor meeting another wall.

The air seemed lighter out here. Darkness too. Like there might be windows or lights left on. Rather than just walk around aimlessly, she scanned the area, looking the brightest part of the darkness. In the distance, a shadowy light winked on and off. It was far away, off to her left.

With that light came tiny sliver of hope.

*
Where is she?

Can anyone guess?

If you like the chapter, vote like Eleven would using her telekinetic powers.

Author's note. I will try to stick as close as I can in describing the places in Hawkins. Let me know if I goof up and I will correct it.

Quick question: who is your favorite character in Stranger Things?