the call of the demogorgon

. ✧ ・゜. +・o ✧

The sight of the Demogorgon roaring at them, saliva dripping from its rows of grotesque teeth, was enough for the agents from the lab to let go of their prisoners, immediately getting their guns out and moving to shoot the beast. Alina staggered, pain shooting through her with every step, and Lucas quickly ran over to her, helping her to walk.

It was chaos. Lights flickering, the constant firing of guns, the shrieks of the Demogorgon, the blood wetting the already-slick floor. Alina looked around wildly, wondering how her innocent middle school had turned into this. The same school she walked the halls of every day, bored out of her mind, just wishing to go home. It had been morphed into a place where men died, where creatures from other dimensions crashed through walls.

Well, Alina thought frantically, as Lucas helped her walk over to Eleven, who was lying on the floor, unmoving, Brenner having released her to run towards the Demogorgon, at least I can't say that school bores me anymore.

She could barely hear Mike's frantic screams for them to hurry over the other chaos. Dustin carefully lifted up Eleven, and then they were off again, Lucas's arms the only thing keeping Alina from falling to the bloodstained ground. Her face throbbed from the blow—the man had nailed her good—and her ribs, which were still healing from her tumble out of the tree (was that really only a week ago? It felt like years) ached every time she breathed. It was an agonizing and panicked minute of running, agents yelling indistinctively as they fired at the Demogorgon, until they reached the science lab, shutting the door firmly behind them.

Dustin laid Eleven down on a desk and Alina coughed violently, a hand clutching her side. Lucas tipped up her chin, inspecting the wound on her face and the blood still staining her teeth. "Are you okay?" he asked softly. "That was really brave, what you did. And really smart. I would've never thought of doing that."

Alina clutched her side firmly. "I'll be okay," she said quickly. It was a lie. Fire seemed to lick at her ribcage, a bonfire made of flesh and bone. "El-Eleven is who we need to worry about right now. She doesn't look so good."

Eleven's eyes were half-closed, bruises spotting her face. Mike, who was at her side, held her hand tightly, tears brimming in his eyes. Alina wondered if Eleven would ever recover. Wondered if she'd ever be okay.

"Just hold on a little longer, okay?" Mike told her, the lights in the lab still flickering above their heads. "He's gone. The bad man's gone. We'll be home soon, and my mom... she'll get you your own bed. You can eat as many Eggos as you want." He sniffed, a lone tear beginning to fall down his cheek. "And we can go to the Snow Ball."

"Promise?" Eleven asked weakly. Alina took her pale, bony wrist. Her pulse was still weak, and she didn't look like she had very long.

Please, Alina pleaded, to anyone who she thought might be listening. Tears trickled down her own cheeks as she prayed. Let El be okay. Let her stay alive. I don't know what I do without her. Please, let her be okay.

Mike leaned forward, getting closer to Eleven. "Promise."

While all of that was happening, Brandon Fairgrieves ran through the halls of Hawkins Middle. Blood dripped down his face as he held a new loaded gun out, but his ex-coworkers were too busy looking for the creature that had burst through a couple minutes ago. He wasn't. He was looking for his daughter. The daughter he'd basically dragged into this mess.

"Alina!" his voice could barely be heard over the sounds of gunfire, and he kept slipping on the puddles of blood on the floor as he ran. He'd found the gun on one of the many dead bodies that were beginning to pile in the halls, and he was hoping his daughter wasn't one of them. "Alina, where are you?"

She was no match for the creature, and he shuddered at the thought of her attempting to go against it, even with her new friends by her side. Brandon turned, running through another stairwell, and that was when he heard the monster shriek. He had time to only turn his head and raise his gun before the monster was on him.

Brandon screamed, firing at the monster, but his gun didn't make a dent in the fearsome creature. It tackled him to the ground, his head thudding against the floor, and, blearily, he saw it crouching over him, its mouth opened wide. For a moment, all he could see was the gaping maw and the many rows of teeth that lined it, ready to consume another meal. To taste his blood and swallow his bones. Saliva dripped on his cheek and Brandon closed his eyes, expecting the end. Expecting any second a searing pain to slice through him, a mercifully quick death as he succumbed to the monster's jaws.

After thirty seconds went by without any of this happening, however, Brandon Fairgrieves opened his eyes. The monster was still pinning him to the ground, but its head was turned away, seeming to taste something on the air. It shook its head, beginning to stand up and moving away from him, as if it had forgotten that he was there. As if he was really going to be safe.

Well, that was what he thought. But then Brandon Fairgrieves made the mistake of letting out a sigh of relief, and that's when the creature turned back, as if remembering he was there. It tilted its head at him like a lost puppy, and before Brandon could say anything, before he could even try to run, the creature raked its claws across his chest.

Then stalked off to find its other prey, prey that took the form of five terrified pre-teens hunkering down in a middle school science lab.

Just when Alina Fairgrieves thought everything might just be alright, the Demogorgon let out a screech from outside the science lab. Mike let out a scream of his own, and he and Alina backed away from Eleven's sickly figure, their hearts pounding as gunfire began to ring out yet again.

As the lights continued to turn on and off, surrounding them in darkness for moments before lighting up once again, four terrified preteens pressed themselves against the lab benches, unsure of what to do. They were just... they were just kids, and adult men with guns didn't seem to be even annoying the creature. What were they supposed to do? What could they do?

"Lucas," Alina's voice was barely above a whisper, the first to break the tense silence. "My dad... he's still, my dad's out there."

Lucas's eyes widened. "I-did you see him?"

"No, but—"

The gunfire stopped. Everything went quiet, and all the fugitives could hear was the sound of their own ragged breathing. Alina slipped her hand into Lucas and Dustin's. A friend and someone more.

"Is it... is it dead?" Dustin risked asking, hanging on to her hand gratefully.

As if in response to his question, the classroom door flew off of its hinges, a human-like creature forcing its way in. As the five terrified kids watched, the Demogorgon let out a growl, beginning to stalk towards its prey.

Lucas immediately, at his friends' urging, began to dig through his bag to find his wrist rocket, one of the only weapons they had. Alina's hands went to the two knives in the front pocket of her own bag. "Here!" she tossed Troy's pocketknife to Mike, who caught it in mid-air, and passed her own to Dustin, who held it out in front of him, trembling, hoping he wouldn't have to use it.

"Get your wrist rocket!" she ordered Lucas, pushing herself in front of her friends, hands curled into fists. The absolute terror of this thing standing right in front of her snapped everything into perspective, and suddenly everything was clear. "I'll distract it!

"Y-you can do it?" Dustin asked, panting, switchblade held in his trembling hand. "With your powers?"

Alina closed her eyes, energy swelling through her, her palms tingling with an itch. "Yes," she said, feeling it twist through her, beginning to build up. Finally, finally, they'd decided to show up. Or perhaps... perhaps all she needed to do was let them in instead of expecting them to come. Perhaps that was why Eleven could control her own. She was in balance with her abilities, she wasn't trying to dominate them.

At this realization, Alina's eyes popped open. But they weren't their normal brown. They were glowing a deep red in color.

With a feral scream, Alina thrust a burst of energy at the Demogorgon. "This is for Will, you son of a bitch!" she yelled, as the red light hit it square in the chest. The Demogorgon, which had a slightly opened flowery mouth, showcasing its rows and rows of teeth, let out an almost-humanlike whimper, staggering back a little. But it was not enough, as it soon recovered, shaking its great head before advancing once more.

Alina readied another burst, firing this one at the Demogorgon's head. The light stuck right in its mouth, and the Demogorgon let out a shriek before a rock hit it straight in the shoulder. Lucas. He'd gotten the rocks loaded into his wrist rocket. But unlike Alina's abilities, these didn't seem to be doing anything.

"Give me a rock!" Alina ordered, as Lucas sent another one racing towards the beast. Dustin pressed one into her sweaty hand, and concentrating hard, Alina surrounded it with energy, before passing it back to Lucas. "Try it now!"

The Demogorgon was still advancing, slow, as if it was teasing its prey, but as Lucas fired the rock Alina had amplified, it let out a shriek, thrashing its head. Its shoulder, where Lucas had hit, was oozing with some foreign substance, which was how they knew they had gotten it good.

Alina was dimly aware that blood was pouring from her nose, whole rivers or waterfalls of it, but she didn't stop. Yet again, she surrounded a rock with energy before loading it into the wrist rocket, Lucas's expert aim sending it straight into the monster's gullet.

The Demogorgon roared, and suddenly it was flying back, limbs flailing before crashing into the chalkboard at the back of the room, unmoving. Alina, Lucas, Dustin, and Mike all stared, mouths open, a fresh stream of blood trickling from Alina's ears, her head racketed with pain. They didn't think that the rocks had done that.

And sure enough, it hadn't been. Eleven made her way through the group, blood streaming from her nose and ears, bruises littering her face. The glare etched upon it was indescribable. It was pure fury at the monster that had taken so much from all of them.

But Eleven was heading right for it. With no weapons other than the force of her mind.

With a whimper, Alina collapsed onto the ground, reaching out an arm for Eleven. But Mike beat her to it.

"Eleven, stop!" he ran forward, trying to prevent her from getting any closer to this creature, but without even looking at him, Eleven's arm shot out, and, just like with Lucas in the junkyard, sent Mike flying backwards into the lab benches. He let out a groan, an invisible force pinning him into place, and Alina panicked.

"El," she croaked. "Please. Don't! You don't have to do this!"

Eleven didn't look at her, but Lucas knelt down beside her, grabbing her bloodstained hand. Alina's eyes were closing. She'd used too much power, just like Eleven had.

The Demogorgon squealed, arms splayed out, trying to fight the unmovable force pinning it into place. Eleven kept walking, a tiny girl against a giant creature, a creature that had killed countless individuals. And as the Demogorgon shrieked and writhed, Eleven finally stopped in front of it. And Alina realized what she was going to do.

She's going to die, Alina thought, desperately trying to inch herself forward, as if she could somehow stop Eleven from sacrificing herself. She's going to die so she can save us.

Tears spilled from her eyes as she watched Eleven study the Demogorgon. Don't. Please. Eleven. Please. Not Eleven, the girl Alina had tried so hard to find. Not Eleven, with the magnet in her stomach and the terror in her eyes. Not the waffle-loving, telekinetic girl that had seemed so fascinated with the world. Please. Not her.

Magnet.

Eleven finally turned her head back to face her friends, a bittersweet smile on her face. "Goodbye, Mike," she said, and her voice was broken. She knew that she would never see Mike Wheeler again. Alina had a moment to wish that her name had touched her lips, too, as she tried to creep another few inches further. Forward. In these moments, that was all she knew. She knew her nose and ears were bleeding, and she knew she had to get to Eleven. But she was slower than a snail, and she knew it wouldn't be enough.

With her face set, Eleven turned back to the writhing Demogorgon. "No more," she told it, her cold voice sending shivers up Alina's spine. Slowly, Eleven reached out her arm, concentrating on the beast in front of her. And that was when the Demogorgon began to scream. Its shrieks pierced Alina's ears, louder and higher than anything she'd ever heard, and she found just enough strength to cover them, her eyes still trained on the writhing creature. Death was consuming it. Eleven was doing what nobody else could.

This was a scream full of anguish and pain and fear. This was a scream of a creature that knew it had reached its end.

Eleven's screams soon joined the Demogorgon's, and, as her terrified friends watched, a bright light formed in the center of the Demogorgon's chest. The creature began to break apart, fragments of it breaking off its body and floating into the air like ash. As Alina watched, her eyes wide, her hands still over her bleeding ears, the Demogorgon broke into what seemed like millions of pieces, the fragments consuming Eleven, the lights still flickering above their heads.

Then the lights went back on, and the screaming stopped, the clumps of Demogorgon serenely drifting to the ground like snow. A large dent had been made in the chalkboard where Eleven had forced the Demogorgon back, but there was no sign of the girl. None at all.

Alina took her hands off her ears and found that she was able to move again. With great difficulty, she sat up, wiping away her blood and tears. Her entire body ached.

"El?" her voice was a whisper. "Eleven?"

Mike immediately got to his feet, running towards the clumps of Demogorgon ash now lying on the ground. "El?" he called. "El?!"

Lucas and Dustin helped Alina to her feet, guiding her to the center of the classroom as well. All four of them began to call out Eleven's name, checking under desks and other places they knew she wouldn't be. "El, where are you?!"

Mike's voice was the most broken of all as he yelled out Eleven's name. But if Eleven was going to answer, she would have already. She would've come back to them if she could.

Alina, limbs trembling, soaked with blood, finally stopped trying. Eleven was gone. She was gone.

"My-my dad," she choked out eventually, and it seemed like a miracle words had managed to rise to her lips. "I don't care what he's done, I have to find him, I have to find him, he has to be okay, he has to be okay, I-I'll be fine, just let me... just let me go."

While Mike continued to scream Eleven's name, Alina slipped out of the classroom. The halls of Hawkins Middle were a mess, countless bodies of men from the Lab lying there in pools of blood, their limbs splayed out. The sight of them only made Alina more desperate to reach her father.

"Dad?!" Alina stepped over the bodies, trying not to slip in the puddles of blood. There was a disconnect between her and them, but she knew that would change soon. All she cared about right now, however, was finding Brandon Fairgrieves and finding him safe. "Daddy?! Where... where are you?"

After a terrifying thirty seconds of calling his name, stepping over bodies, and receiving no response, Alina finally heard it. It was a weak voice, but it was there.

"Ally?"

"Dad?!" The sound of his voice was so relieving Alina began to cry again, thick tears spilling down her face, blurring her vision until all she could see was red. "Daddy, where are you?"

"Over... over here."

Alina followed the sound of Brandon Fairgrieves' voice, and although pain shot through her with every step, she didn't stop moving. She knew she needed to reach her dad, and nothing, not even pain, would be able to stop her from reaching him.

But then she found him.

Brandon Fairgrieves was propped up against the wall, taking sharp, rattling gasps. Blood and bruises streaked his face, and one of his quivering hands was clutching his chest. More blood seeped through his fingers, and Alina had time to marvel at the fact that skin was the only thing keeping everything locked inside when everything sunk in.

Brandon still looked up at the sound of footsteps, and when he saw his daughter, he smiled, a terrible, brilliant thing. "You're alright," he said. "Ally... I found you."

"No!" Alina knelt down beside her father, everything clicking all at once. No no no no no. Frantically, she lifted up his shirt, tears blurring her vision. It was practically plastered to him with blood, and when she finally got it over his head, she saw why.

Three deep claw marks marred his chest, oozing blood. And by the amount of blood spilling out of them, Alina knew they weren't shallow. Knew they'd cut deep. Too deep.

"NO!" she screamed again, frantically balling up his shirt and pressing it against his wound, as if she could somehow staunch the flow of blood, which was getting overwhelming at this point. "No... J-Jesus, I... daddy, what... what happened?"

"That... that thing." Brandon's eyes were fluttering, and as he spoke, one hand moved to his pocket. "I'm—I'm so sorry, Ally. You were—you were never supposed to be involved in any of this. I-I joined the lab so I could protect you, so you would never have to spend a day as an experiment. But—" Brandon coughed, blood bubbling out from his lips, mixed with saliva in a sickening froth. "You're my brave girl, Alina. I love you. I love you more than anything in the world."

"We have to get you to a hospital!" Alina pressed his shirt against his chest harder, sobbing. Everything was crumbling apart at once, and she was slipping off the edge. But there was no one to catch her this time. "Come on, daddy, please, I can't—I can't lose you too!"

Brandon Fairgrieves smiled again at his daughter, holding something out to her with one bloody hand. It was slick with blood, so Alina didn't recognize it at first, but then she realized it was her notebook. The notebook that she'd written everything about Eleven in. The notebook he'd found while looking for her file.

"I don't have much time." Brandon closed his eyes. "Read this, Ally. I-It explains everything. I love you. I love you. I love you."

Alina squeezed his bloodied hand, her words choked by her sobs. "I love you, daddy. I love you so much."

Then she realized he'd stopped moving, his hand limp in hers. With a sob, she looked up to find that he was slumped over, his eyes closed, and that no more breath was coming out of his body. No pulse was keeping him alive.

"NO!" the sound that left Alina Fairgrieves' mouth was agonizing. "NO! DAD! Please!"

She shook her father desperately, but Brandon Fairgrieves did not wake. "Please," she said again, sobbing against his chest, hoping, praying, for at least a weak pulse. "Please, daddy, I can't—I can't lose you too."

I can't lose you too. You made me pancakes with smiley faces and got me Skywalker and played D&D with me and never, ever, let Linda win a fight. You were so strong and brave and I'm so sorry.

But this wasn't a fairytale. There was no miraculous revival. There was just the fact: that Brandon Fairgrieves was dead.

Alina turned away from him after a couple of minutes, and let out a scream. A scream almost as loud and as piercing as the Demogorgon's. The world flickered, and Alina was kneeling in the void area again, blood splattering her from head-to-toe. She closed her eyes and let her energy build up inside of her, this time not stopping. Her palms must've been in agony, but Alina was numb to it, so she just let it build, more and more and more, continuing to scream. More and more and more. Until she was a volcano hidden within the body of a bloodstained twelve-year-old. Until she was filled to the brim with energy.

And then she let it all out.

The whole world seemed to turn red for a moment, before a large crash sounded. Alina opened her eyes to find that she was back in the middle school, and an entire wall had been decimated, blackened bricks laying at her feet. The floor was black as well, the lockers dented, some of the broken bodies having flown into the air during the attack. She could see outside, could see the serene sky and the moon and everything that simply shouldn't be, because everything was all wrong.

Alina looked around at the destruction she'd wrought, then stood on shaky knees. No new blood burst from her nose. She wasn't tired. Her face wasn't bruised.

And in that moment, Alina Fairgrieves realized that her powers, the ones she'd been struggling with, the ones she hated but also learned to use, the powers that had kept them alive in the science lab, were gone. And like Eleven had said when she faced the Demogorgon for her final stand, they were no more.

. ✧ ・゜. +・o ✧

a/n: woo. that was a heavy chapter. i cried writing it, and i also cried editing it, and i'm crying think about it, so don't think you guys are the only ones who are upset (i hope. i hope you guys liked brandon as much as i did). but it had to happen. all of the men from the lab (from what we know) died because of the demogorgon, and just because brandon was good did not make him the exception. 

this isn't the end, either. we still have one more chapter and the epilogue, so don't think i ended this on such a sour note. i'm literally crying so much right now, so i'm not going to say much more. i just... i'm sorry. :(

'till next time.