𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑷𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑰𝑿

❛ We fucking kill the bastard ❜

❦

Malia has been to so many funerals, she's lost count. It's actually quiet saddening. She's seventeen and has attended more death celebrations than she has weddings, or any other happy event.

So, as she jogs up the steps towards where Will Byer's coffin was being created for his funeral the next day, she remembers all the horrific moments that caused her to constantly be so angry.

When she was ten, her father passed away due to an illness, completely unknown to tiny Malia Garcia, and even though it's about time she learns why her dad died, she doesn't want to. His funeral consisted of Malia, her mother and Thomas. That was it. Not even his parents could conjure up the courage to be there and, truth be told, Malia and her brother didn't want to go either.

Sasha Garcia, their mother, was the only person who truly cared for Norman Garcia. They were high-school sweethearts, and the only thing keeping him by her side, was her cooking. He rambled about it constantly, and very rarely left the dinner table, while claiming he was only there for the food, which Malia never doubted to be a lie.

Expectantly, several grandparents died over the years; none of which Malia was close to or had even seen before, but she was still dragged along to their funeral to show 'respect'. It may seem cold hearted, but she had no reason at all to be sad over their deaths.

Slightly further on in life, around the age of thirteen, Thomas' childhood best friend died due to heart failure, and caused the poor boy to distance himself from reality all together. He didn't speak a single word to anyone for at least a year and barely ever left his room. Malia completely understood, and left him too it. Obviously, she did try to brighten his mood but never forced him into doing something.

Unlike their Mum, who got so fed up with her son's depression that she actually paid for a therapist but Tom had no interest in sobbing it a complete stranger about how devastated he was. It was impractical, and just not needed.

But when Thomas and Malia moved up into high school, he started to brand out more: create more friends and speak a lot even more than before his best friend's passing. Malia was beyond happy to have her town brother back, and spent a year just hanging around with him to catch him up on everything he missed during his episode.

It was Nancy's clever idea to speak to Jonathan at the time when he's mourning his brother the most. Malia had complained the whole way in the car, knowing he'll either get angry and cause a scene, or cry and finally decide to help the pestering girls.

"Did you, uh, speak to Steve last night?" Nancy's speaks up as they trudge down the silent and cold hallways, "After you hung up the phone."

Malia sends her a side glance, "Yeah, I told him to go away and if he wanted to apologise he should speak to you, not me."

The Wheeler girl swallows thickly, nodding slowly. Last night, she had been slightly surprised that Steve had gone to Malia's house before hers, as seen as they were the two dating, but she brushed it under the rug, leaving the meaning behind it just to do with the fact they were very close friends.

Quickly, Malia sends a elbow into Nancy's rib before motioning to the casket, a quiet Jonathan just leaving, his eye strained on the ugly carpet below.

Nancy turns her head mainly towards the girl at her side, before pointing to the seats further back in the hallway, "Just wait outside, okay?"

Malia's mouth falls open, "What? Why?"

She's sent a harsh, motherly glare as Nancy creates loops anxiously with her bag strap, "Because you're slightly intimidating and loud. So, wait outside!" She hisses

In a huff of annoyance and slight anger, Malia throws her arms up in the arm before whirling around on her heel and heading towards the three uncomfortable sets resting against a crumbling wall.

"Jonathan?" Nancy speaks quietly, her voice hushed in respect.

His head snaps up, and his gaze immediately flickers behind her towards Malia, who's legs are wide apart and taking up half of the width of the hallway, causing him to swallow. She meets his gaze, raising her hand in a lazy wave before refocussing on picking her nails.

Jonathan sends Nancy a smile, "Hey. . ."

"Hey," Nancy pushes the tears back into her eyes, not wanting them to pour down her cheeks so soon and scare the boy off, "Your mum, um, she said you'd be here." She bites her lip, "I just. . . Can we talk for a second?"

He nods slowly before following after her and taking they both occupy the seats to the right of Malia. Their presence causes her straighten up in her chair, and tune into their conversation.

At the awkward silence, Malia rolls her eyes, snatching the photo from Nancy's hands and waving it harshly in front of Jonathan's face, causing him to blink rapidly in shock.

"Nancy noticed this," She smacks her pointer finger against the creature stood behind Barb in the image, "in a photo you took at the party a few nights ago. Do you know what is is?"

Nancy grumbles under her breath, now realising that bringing Malia along wasn't such a good idea. She needed to be gentle and soft in order to get the right answers from Jonathan, and at the moment, she's being the complete opposite.

Slowly, Jonathan takes the photograph from her grasp, bringing it into the lift behind him for a better view on the sliced paper. He tilts it in every direction, his face contorting even more each angle.

"It looks like it could be some kind of perspective distortion, but I wasn't using the wide angle." He shrugs, this time politely handing the image back to Nancy, "I don't know. It's weird."

"No shit sherlock," Malia snaps, receiving a harsh smack on the knee from the girl beside her, "Sorry." She grumbles, nodding for them to continue.

Nancy shakes her head in disbelief before turning her body so it faces Jonathan completely, "And you're sure you didn't see anyone else out there?"

Jonathan's eyes trail to the floor, "No. And she was there one second, and then, um. . ."

Malia clicks her tongue, "Gone. Poof, into thin air."

With an awkward nod, he continues, trying to ignore Nancy's clearly saddened face, "I figured she bolted."

After a few silent moments, Nancy finally brings herself to nod simply, having already heard this information from Malia, she really had no interest in it.

"The cops think she ran away," She sighs, "But, they don't know Barb. And we went back to Steve's," She flicks a finger between herself and Malia, "and we think we saw something. Some. . . weird man or. . ." She let's out an exasperated gasp, "I don't know what it was."

Jonathan stares at her in astonishment, his eye slightly wide and his mouth agape. Both girl notice this, and instantly shared a understanding look with each other.

"I'm sorry," Nancy says and begins to pick up her bag, shoving the photo into it, "I. . . I shouldn't have come here today." She starts to follow after Malia towards the doors, but not after glancing back at him again, "I'm so sorry."

"What'd he look like?" He rushes.

Both girls comes to a stop facing the door before slowing turning to look at him in sync, their eyebrows furrowed in confusion at his pleading face.

"What?" Malia questions.

"This man you saw in the woods," He repeats, "What'd he look like?"

Nancy stammers slightly, squeezing her eyes shut in attempts to bring the faint memory to the front of her already tangled mind, "I— I don't know."

Malia takes a step forward, "She thinks he didn't have a—"

"Face?" He finishes off the chilling sentence, "As if he didn't have a face?"

Nancy's jaw drops, "How did you know that?"

Malia's first thought was: stalking. He'd done it before, could easily repeat those events. Maybe he'd eavesdropped in on Nancy's interview with the police, or their conversation with Steve besides the gun block. He's known to be quiet, and could easily slink into the shadows and disappear once again.

The boy notices her concerned face and instinctively his head starts to shake in denial. Her head tilts as she takes a slow step forward, scanning his face for guilt.

"Malia," Nancy catches her wrist, "Stop."

The Garcia girl ignores her, rolling her arm away roughly, before glaring down at him again, "You stalking us again?"

"No," He sighs, his voice cracking in the process, "No, no. I'd never do that. The first time was a pure coincidence, I swear."

Malia stares at him for a while longer, causing the eery corridor to fall silent once again. Finally, she nods but says nothing, causing a relieved sigh to fly past his lips and he sends Nancy a small smile.

Then, Malia left the building completely, leaving the pair to investigation the image further just the two of them and to update Malia if something actually interesting happened.

Which, apparently it did, just not with them.

❦

Will Byer's funeral was just as heartbreaking as expected and Malia stood squished to her mothers side in a disgusting black dress she'd been told to throw on at the last moment.

In all honesty, she didn't know why her family was even there. They had no relation to the Byer's family apart from living in the same town, but, like usual, Sasha Garcia deemed it horrible to not attend.

After the casket had been lowered into the ground, and Malia's dress got soaked with her mother's fake tears, she wandered away to seek out Jonathan and Nancy, who she quickly found sat against a tombstone, pointing down at skinny piece of paper.

"Oi!" She claps her hands together, scaring the both of them out of their skin, "Hey." She smirks down at them, her hands on her hips.

Nancy rolls her eyes before reaching up and dragging Malia to the dirty ground beside her, and shoving the paper under her nose. At first, she just stares in confusion, before finally catching onto the tiny diagram in the top corner. A map.

"Look, this is where we know for sure it's been, right?" Jonathan leans across Nancy to tap finger on a red cross scribbled against the sheet.

"Steve's house?" She raises an eyebrow, earning a hum in reply, "And this one?" She motions toward a different cross.

"That's the woods where they found Will's bike and," His finger kings further across to the remaining 'x', "that's my house."

"It's all so close." Nancy speaks up.

"Yeah, exactly." He shrugs, "I mean, it's all within a mile or something. Whatever ever this thing is, it's— it's not travelling far."

"Thing?" Malia's face scrunches up, "Wait, Wheeler, you promised you'd tell me if you find anything out. What's this thing he's talking about?"

She sighs heavily, "We think it's some kind of. . . monster. Joyce claims it clawed it's way through the house walls a few days ago."

In surprise, Malia raises both hands up to her hair, running her fingers through the locks anxiously, "Right. So, we just go out there, into the woods and look for it." She shrugs carelessly, "Easy peasy."

In agreement, Jonathan points at her before his eyes make his way to Nancy's concerned expression, "We might see it. But, I doubt it will be. . . easy peasy." He attempts to reassure her.

"And if we do see it. . . then what?"

Malia sighs, rubbing her palm against her knees before pushing herself up off the ground and she manoeuvres to stand in front of them, a wicked smirk on her lips, "We fucking kill the bastard."

________________

steve's gonna become more involved soon i swear just he's a dick in the first season