NIGHT HAD FALLEN.

Carla Wheeler paced around the second floor of the Creel house for what could be the one hundredth time, roaming around by herself with nothing but the blue light of her lamp to keep her company.

The Wheeler, Mayfield, and the Sinclair siblings had been stuck in the Creel house for a half hour now. They briefly went over a plan outside—get inside, split-up to cover more ground, only  find one another once Vecna was spotted—before retreating inside the old home.

They had all taken their shoes off to muffle the sound of the footsteps against the ageing wood so Vecna didn't find them first. Carla directed each kid on a different level of the floor, and then the four were off, walking circles around the house, holding their lanterns as they sought out the demon.

No one spoke—they had been a rule the group decided on. Their only way of communication was that of notepads, each member carrying one and a pen—which left the Creel house in a eery silence, minus the light creaks of wood as Carla walked. It didn't help that now that the sun had left, the house was left in pitch black without the source of blue light the lanterns illuminated. No one wanted to be left in a dark and quiet home.

Carla had just been left alone with her thoughts for the last half-hour. Her thoughts never bring her much solace. Usually, they do more damage than good.

She won't be thinking for much longer. In less than an hour, she's sure she'll be dead.

She could feel it—the inevitability. The knot in her stomach had only tightened over the last half-hour, the overwhelming knowledge that she had made a decision. A decision that could very well cost her everything.

Carla doesn't want death anymore, but what choice does she have? As set as Nancy and Steve are on them being quick enough killing Vecna that no one gets hurt, the Wheeler can't help but doubt that. Someone is getting hurt. Someone could die.

The Wheeler will make sure it's her.

It's simple as the fact that Max Mayfield can't die. Carla simply won't let it happen, as much as she craves to see tomorrow.

Max is only fifteen; she hasn't gotten a chance to live without creatures. She's spent too much of her childhood fighting them, and she deserves to get through high-school free. Happy. Not plagued by a demonic creature. At the end of the day, Carla got her happy. For a few years, she was normal. The moment Max moved to Hawkins, she was thrown into this bullshit.

But....could she really do it?

Could she really sacrifice herself for the Mayfield? For the fate of the world? Could she be the one to draw Vecna's attention away, to be the bait? She could already hear Steve's voice in her head, his worry, his anger. What would he think? What would he say? She had promised him. She had told him she'd see him after this was all over. But she wasn't sure if she could go through with this without breaking that promise.

And yet, the thought of Max, the thought of the kids, and the thought of Vecna winning—it was too much. She couldn't let anyone else fall victim to this nightmare. It had to be her that Vecna took. It had to be.

The Wheeler pauses in her steps, hand moving to her back pocket to pull out the miniature notepads and marker she had. She had to have final words of some kind, right? She got to hug Steve, she got to say goodbye to those who weren't in the Creel house, but that wasn't enough.

So, quickly, Carla manages a few words onto the paper.

I'm sorry. I had to. I couldn't let her die. Please understand. I love you. I'm sorry.

The Wheeler doesn't get a chance to write anything else as someone taps her shoulder.

Slightly frightened, Carla flinches but relaxes when she sees Lucas, Erica, and Max standing in front of her, blue lights illuminating onto her face. Quickly, Carla folds rips the notebook paper and shoves it into her back pocket.

Maybe they would find it. Maybe they wouldn't. She didn't know.

Erica holds up her notebook, and through the light, the Wheeler manages to read what's on it.  Found Vecna.

Carla offers a curt nod. There was no going back now.

Erica starts to lead the others back downstairs to where she'd found Vecna downstairs. Sitting on a small table is the Sinclair's lamp, energy buzzing as it surged brighter and brighter—the clear sign that Vecna was here.

There's a light melody of Running Up That Hill flowing into Carla's ears through Max's headphones as the Mayfield steps past her, cautiously walking towards the lamp.

Quickly, Erica scribbles; Phase One?

Lucas shares a look with Carla for confirmation. Firmly, the Wheeler nods in approval, and the younger Sinclair goes running for the front door to go and update the Upside Down section of the group that they were starting.

Waiting for Erica, the remaining three in the hour took a seat within the living room, waiting for Erica's cue that it was time to move on. Carla rested her chin on her knees, watching as Lucas and Max had a silent conversation through paper. She tried not to be nosy, but she couldn't help but smile as she watched them rekindle. Even more motivation that pushed Carla towards the idea of sacrificing herself.

Max had a chance to be happy if she got out. Carla wanted that for her, more than anything.

A flashlight starts to flicker through the window and Carla is quick on her feet, following the Sinclair and Mayfield over to the cracked and dusted window. There, she was quick to spot Erica sitting on a playground set, flashing her flashlight on and off, signaling.

Lucas lifts up his flashlight, signaling it back to her.

Carla ushers Max to follow her and the two girls put their shoes back on, Lucas watching wearily. Grabbing their lanterns, two girls step into the drawing room where Erica's illuminated lantern sits, surging bright.

The Wheeler looks at the redhead beside her, giving a nod. It's time.

Max slowly pulls her headphones off, clicking the Walkman off, too. Running Up That Hill dies down, and the two girls are left in a tense silence.

"Hey!" the Mayfield barks, not showing any fear at the moment. "Asshole!"

Carla inhales sharply, "We're both here, Henry. No more music, no more hiding."

Nothing.

"No more games." Max continues, growing more agitated as Erica's lantern doesn't change. It just sits. "Do you here us? What are you waiting for, huh?! Come on! Do you want me, or not?"

"I'm ready." Carla murmurs, staring hard at the lantern. She hopes Vecna can hear her more than he can hear Max. "No one's here to stop you."

When she finishes speaking, Erica's lamp dims and the one in Carla's hands glows much brighter—Vecna's cue for them to follow him, as he'd done earlier in the week. Max sets her own lantern down and the Wheeler doesn't hesitate before letting the lantern lead her.

The Wheeler follows the electric buzz up the stairs and to the attic, just like she had earlier in the week. The air is thick with tension, and she can almost feel Vecna's presence looming, like a shadow just out of sight.

Max follows behind her, the girl's footsteps hesitant but determined, though Carla can tell the fear is building in her. She's scared too, but she can't show it—not now, not when she's made this decision.

When Carla reaches the very middle of the room, the lantern surges as bright as possible before dying down.

"What are you waiting for, asshole?" Max ponders again, more concerned with Vecna's game than Carla was. The Wheeler knew that he was here. That he was just waiting for the right time to strike. "Hm? I'm right here. I'm right here!"

Carla softly breathes, "Max."

The Mayfield seems to take the hint and calms down, slightly. "I know you can hear me. I know you can read my thoughts. Even the worst ones. Maybe mostly the worst ones." 

She sets down the lantern, and takes her headphones off. Crossing her legs, she wraps her arms around herself and curls up as she sits and waits.

They don't have to wait long.

In a few moments, Carla suddenly feels it—a shift in the air. It was subtle at first, like the faintest whisper brushing against her skin. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and her pulse quickened.

Something had happened.

She glanced over at Max, who had gone eerily still.

Fuck.

"Lucas, he has her." the Wheeler is kneeling down beside the Mayfield in seconds, already knowing what was happening before she could see the girls clouded over eyes. "He has her."

Lucas starts to panic, crouching down on the girls other side. "Max, can you hear me? Max! Max!"

Hearing his panicked cries make the Wheeler feel even worse than she had before. That should be her. She should be under Vecna's trance right now—why was he taking Max when she was right here?

Before she can even think it through, Carla is putting her hand on Max's shoulder and closing her eyes.

Dream-walking was an art that Carla had only truly participated in once. Last summer, she had done it to help Eleven out of her head, and it had worked. If Vecna's torture happened inside the head, she could do it again, right? If she's thinking right, she should be able to get into Max's head and help her from there. Maybe lead Vecna into her own, instead.

Dangerous as it could be, Max needed to be saved. And Carla was the only one who could stop Vecna from claiming her.

"Carla what—what are you doing?" Lucas questions.

"I'm going to help her fight." Carla mutters, trying her best to concentrate on nothing. "Go and tell Erica that it's time for the next phase."

"But—"

"Go, Lucas." the Wheeler sternly says. "I'll be fine."

Carla didn't know if this would work but she had to try. Vecna wasn't getting Max Mayfield if she had a say in it.

"Carla?"

Carla's eyes fluttered open, and she was no longer kneeling on the worn wooden floors of the Creel house.

Blue decorations of all kinds fill her gaze. 'Every Breath You Take' fills her ears, reverbing loudly off the walls. Her eyes manage to read 'Hawkins Middle Snowball '84' written on a banner that hung directly above her, giving her the location in which she was.

But, the Wheeler doesn't really focus of where she is. Her eyes instead fall to the redheaded girl standing in front of her.  Max's hair is slightly tousled, but she seems okay. Her hand reaches out towards Carla, and her eyes flicker with different emotions—relief, hope, disbelief.

"Are you—are you real?" The Mayfield questions, confused. "Did I make you?"

Shit. She did it.

"No—I dream-walked here, just like I did for El last summer. I couldn't let you hold of Vecna alone." Carla explains, reassuring the younger girl that she wasn't a figment of Vecna, but indeed herself. "I'm real, Max. I promise."

Before the Wheeler could say anything else, Max surged forward, throwing her arms around her in a tight hug. It was unexpected from the Mayfield, who had become less than touchy the last few months. However, Carla is quick to hold the girl close, wrapping her arms securely around the young girl.

But, their moment is interrupted by the popping of a balloon.

Both girls flinch out of the embrace at the sudden sound, looking back to see one of the tables now covered in blood right where the balloon had been. Another pop echoes, and another balloon turns into thick, red, blood.

"Was this your happiest memory?" Carla asks the Mayfield. Clearly this is the Snowball of '84— a month after everything with the Mind Flayer was originally thought to be over. The Wheeler remembers how the night went for her, certainly—where nothing of blood or gore occurred.

Max nods, slightly fearful. "Yeah."

Well, shit. Vecna had found them and was now infesting Max's happiest memory, the one thing shielding her from him.

Two more pops. Blood splatters.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

Pop.

Max moves back with every pop, backing until she hits the podium in the back with the banner hanging above it. Carla goes with her, standing in front of her, eyes darting around for any sign of Vecna at all.

On the podium the 'Every Breath You Take' morphs into 'Dream A Little Dream Of Me'. The melodic song makes Carla feel absolutely sick to her stomach—it was the song playing when Vecna killed his mother and sister.

As if the song itself held some power, the memory starts to melt away. The Snowball decorations start to lose their blue and bright color. The flowers on the table start to drop and rot away.  Upside Down particles start to flutter down from the ceiling. The lights dim. It's a horrible sound of creaking and squelching as everything just dies.

"You need to think of another memory." Carla instructs. If this is Max's happiest and Vecna's breaking into it, she has no idea if finding a weaker memory will work, but she has to try. Max can't let Vecna in like that. "He's getting into this one."

"I don't..." Max fumbles. This was her memory. "I don't have another one, Carla."

"Please, Max. Think of something." Carla pleads. She can't let Vecna ruin Max like this. She can't. "Anything that's ever made you happy."

As the Mayfield goes quiet in thought, the Wheeler starts grabbing chairs and stacking them up in front of the gymnasium doors. It'll do little against Vecna but, childish as it is, it makes her feel safer somehow.

The eerie echo of 'Dream A Little Dream Of Me' and the clanking of metal against metal is the only sound heard for a few minutes. Carla strains her injured arm to its full extent, heaving as many chairs as she can only on another to create a barrier between the doors and them. She prays Max finds another memory.

"Carla."

"You think of—" Carla pauses in her chair moving, turning to look at Max. The girl is already staring hard at her, finger pointing towards the doors that the Wheeler had been blocking. Only, when Carla turns to meet her gaze, the gymnasium doors are no longer there.

Instead, sits the door to the Creel house, stained-glass rose and all.

Gaunt, Max whispers, "Please tell me you see that."

"Keep finding a memory." Carla's gaze hardens on the door, which sat almost taunting them. She was starting to grow agitated with Vecna's games. "Whatever you do, don't stop."

Max squeezes her eyes shut. The Creel door creaks open, revealing pitch black on the other side.

"You can't hide her from me forever, Carla." Vecna's growl echoes in the Wheeler's ears. Her fists clench at her sides as she hears him. "You think I don't see what you're doing? You think I don't see everything?"

Everything.

He has to mean their plan, right? Carla tries not to let her facade falter as she pictures her friends injured, dead, because they followed through with a plan that Vecna already had the upper hand on.

"You thought you could trick me? You thought your friends could stop me? I see them."

Jason cocking a gun in Lucas' face.

Robin getting thrown against a vine covered wall with a yelp.

Eddie and Dustin war-crying with fear.

All the scenes hit her at once, Carla's face faltering in emotion at each sight. No, no, no, no —

"You thought your friends could stop me?"

A Demogorgan opening it's jaws, revealing rows and rows of sharp teeth.

A man in a red, white, and blue jacket running as another Demogorgan slams against a door, breaking it down.

Steve slamming an ax against the vine, trying to help Robin.

"I see them."

Bats flying into Eddie's trailer, scaring the Henderson and Munson.

"I see your friends."

Steve getting dragged to the floor by a vine wrapped around his ankles.

Steve getting choked by the vines, stuck on the wall.

Bats.

Dustin.

Eddie biking.

"Just as clearly  as I see you, Carla. As I see Max."

Robin choking.

Steve choking.

"I can feel them. I can feel them dying."

Vines.

Bats.

Death.

A bony finger crawls against Carla's shoulder.

Carla's breath hitches at the sensation of the cold, bony finger dragging along her shoulder. It's like ice seeping into her skin, chilling her to the bone. She doesn't dare turn around immediately, her heart pounding in her chest. She knows what she'll see—Vecna, towering over her, reveling in her fear.

Standing in front of her is Max, a look of sheer horror on her face as she sees Vecna lurking behind her sister-figure. Carla mouths the word 'Run.'

The Mayfield doesn't even hesitate before sprinting right for the opposite end of the gym, but she doesn't get too far before Vecna outstretches a hand, levitating her figure into the air. Max screams as the creature sends her flying backwards, body getting pinned to a brick wall by some invisible force that has her stuck like glue as she writhes in pain and fear.

"Stop it!" Carla yells, watching as the Mayfield's body goes flying. She couldn't do this anymore—she couldn't watch Max get hurt. Turning around to face the creature, she jabs a shaky finger to her chest. "You need one kill to win. You've been hunting me for years. Why waste your final kill on her when you could have me right now?!"

"You offer yourself in her place?" Vecna asked, his voice an oily whisper dripping with malice. "How noble. How predictable. But you misunderstand, Carla. This is not about one or the other. It's about all of you. The cracks in your world. The ones you failed to mend."

"Take me." Carla said, her voice firm now as she made a deal with the devil. "Leave Max alone. Leave them all alone. You've been waiting for this, haven't you? Waiting to finish what you started. Do it."

"You're much braver than Billy was." For a moment, the creature regarded her, his grotesque face twisting into something almost resembling a grin. "Very well."

Before Carla could even say more, her body is flying backwards, slamming into the same wall Max was stuck too. The Wheeler seethes at the feeling, feeling an invisible force strap her body to the brick, sealing her to it.

"You've fought so hard, Carla. But in the end, all you've done is delay the inevitable."

Vecna walks over to the two girls at almost a leisurely pace, dragging. Carla's heart thumps violently in her chest. She hopes her friends find the note in her back pocket.

"Carla, what did you do." Max whips over at Carla as she see's Vecna going towards her instead. "What did you say?"

Carla couldn't meet Max's gaze, her body still pinned against the wall by Vecna's power. Her breath came in sharp gasps as she forced herself to answer. "I made a choice," she managed, her voice cracking. "It had to be me, Max. It was always going to be me."

Max's eyes widened, a flash of fury breaking through her fear. "No! No, you can't do this! You don't get to decide that! I—"

"You have to live," Carla cut her off, watching as Vecna came closer. "You have too much left to do, Max. More than me. This... this is my fight. It's always been my fight and I'm sick of watching everyone else get fucked over because of it."

Max shook her head violently, her fists clenching at her sides as she tried to move, tried to break through whatever invisible force held her back. Carla couldn't do this. She had heard her conversation with Steve, heard them talk about the future they wanted.

Lucas had tried to stop her, but Max had made a deal with God. She had prayed for it to be her instead of Carla then and there. Carla was wrong—she was the one who needed to die. Who deserved it.

"You don't get to say that!" Max fumbles, "You don't get to just—just give up!"

"This isn't giving up." Carla said, trying her best to stay calm. It would be quicker if she didn't cry or fight. "This is doing what I have to. For you. For all of you."

Vecna stops right in front of Carla, ignoring the cries and writhing of the redhead beside her. He almost smiles at the Wheeler, unfeeling and dark. All his waiting, just for this moment.

For the first time in her life, Carla Wheeler resigns to the Upside Down.

She was diverting off plan, and by letting Vecna take her as his fourth kill, she was securing the end of the world. But, at least Max would live a little longer.

"Try and stay very still." Vecna states, repeating the mantra that Carla had heard last summer when she was flayed under Billy's watch. "It will all be over soon."

Carla tries to close her eyes but as Vecna raises his claw above her head, they're forced up and roll back. An icy, searing pain shot through her head, her vision blurring as darkness began to close in. There's an intense pressure on her head, a high-pitched whirring ringing in her ears. She could  hear Max screaming her name, could feel the tears streaming down her own face as she fought to stay conscious.

"No! Let her go! Please! Take me! I want it!"

Vecna could always see a part of Carla Wheeler in Max Mayfield. Maybe that's the reason he chose her.

Every memory, every emotion, every shred of who she was felt like it was being torn from her, a horrific unraveling of her very soul. Carla couldn't move or scream, mouth locked in an ajar position. She could barely feel, yet she felt it all. She didn't even know if she was breathing anymore, an icy chill filling what should be air within her lungs.

For a second, she swears an image of her floating in air flickers in her head. Her arm, twisting in the wrong direction.

And then it stopped.

In an instant, the pressure vanished. The pain that had been all-consuming, unbearable, suddenly stopped. One moment, Carla was teetering on the edge of consciousness, and the next, the invisible force that had held her to the wall—Vecna's grip—was gone.

Carla was falling to the floor before she could process what was even happening, a soft groan falling from her lips as feeling is returned to her figure. The pressure on her head is gone, as is the whirring in her ears.

"Carla? Carla?" Max is crawling up beside her, Carla managing to catch the redhead in her blurry vision. Cold and clammy hands are touching her all over, waving in her face, holding her. "Hey, are you still with me? Can you see me?"

Carla blinks, taking in Max.

She's alive?

For a moment, the Wheeler doesn't reply. She's not sure what she can say, or what to say. After all, she'd seen Vecna's claw, she'd felt the life getting sucked out of her—she should be dead right now. Yet, here she was, blinking at Max. Breathing. Alive.

"Carla?"

Carla blinked a few more times, trying to bring the room into focus, and slowly, the gymnasium started to feel less like a dream and more like the real world. She could see Max clearly now, the girl's face streaked with a few tears, but her eyes shining with relief as she watches her sister-figure breathe.

Her chest heaved as she tried to steady her breathing, her body trembling from the aftershock of whatever had just happened. Her hands, shaky and clammy, rested on the cold floor of the gym.

"Max...?" Carla rasped. She lifted a hand to touch Max's shoulder, as if to confirm she was real, that this wasn't some cruel illusion.

Max's hands were still on her, holding her, as if she were terrified Carla might slip away again. "You scared the hell out of me," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Please, don't do that again."

Carla grabs a hold of the younger girl for support, still processing what had happened. Max had been stuck to the wall. No one else was here. So, why did Vecna stop and get tossed away like a rag doll?

She's met with her answer as her and Max look forward to see Eleven pacing forward.

Nothing but determination is written on her face, and a trail of blood falls down to her upper lip. Her hand is raised and clenched, wrist flicking as she used her power to levitate and freeze Vecna, who stood raised in the air, tense.

Carla's eyes widen as she sees the young girl who'd become nothing less than a sister to her. The long hair she'd complimented when she saw El back in December was no longer there, instead replaced with the same buzz-cut she had when the Wheeler first met her back in '83—which didn't make sense, given Eleven had been buzzing with excitement over the bangs Joyce had  cut for her in a letter from January or February.

Nonetheless, though, it's Eleven.

However, she has powers. Powers she'd lost after Starcourt.

How? Carla doesn't even care. She's alive because of El.

Eleven twists her hand around, using her power to do the same to Vecna's tensed figure. Something about seeing the girl have so much power over a creature they'd learned to be the almighty gives Carla the smallest spark of hope.

As Vecna is turned around, he recognizes the young girl and seethes, "You."

The ghost of a smile crosses Eleven's face, and she replies, "Hi,"

Not even seconds later does she thrust her hand sideways, sending Vecna crashing into the bleachers.

The moment Vecna is out of her sight, El loses her tense features and immediately goes running for her two friends, determination turning into pure concern. She bends down, helping Carla get up. She'd saved them, but had she been too late?

"Carla, are you okay?" Eleven asked breathlessly, her hands clasping Carla's wrists. Her wide, dark eyes scanned Carla's pale features, searching for any sign of lingering harm.

Carla blinked up at her, still dazed but slowly grounding herself in the moment. She gave a faint nod, lifting a hand to squeeze one of Eleven's. "I'm fine."

El continued to search Carla's face for any sign of a lie, but Carla's confirmation seems to ease her slightly. Without warning, Eleven threw her arms around Carla, pulling her into a tight, protective hug.

Carla puts a hand on the back of the younger girl's head, holding her close for a moment. Her fingers brush over the light layer of hair that covers.

Pulling away, the Hopper drops one hand and moves it over to Max, checking over her for injuries as well. "Are you, Max?"

Unlike Carla, who seemed not to question what Eleven was doing here, Max's brows furrowed. "Huh?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," the Mayfield blindly answers, before finally trying to process her best friend standing in front of her.....even though this was her head and the real Eleven was in California. She brings her hand up to cup the side of El's face, brushing over her shaved head and pinching her cheeks as repeats what she'd asked Carla moments before. "Are you...are you real? Did...Did I make you?"

Eleven grabs one of Max's hands and brings it towards her heart, doing the same exact thing with Carla's and clasping them together with her own. "I'm real."

"I don't know the rules of dream-walking exactly, but, how?" Carla finally questions. She'd been in the same room as Max; Eleven was in Cali-fucking-fornia.

Bluntly, El answers, "I piggybacked from a pizza dough freezer."

It's silent for a few moments. Then, Max guffaws, "What?"

El opens her mouth to try and explain but rustling and clattering interrupt her, thunder rumbling within the gymnasium. Slowly, the three girls walk away from the wall and out to the main gym where Vecna is crawling out of the bleachers, grunting and rasping.

His lifeless eyes dig into El. He tilts his neck to the side, crackling echoing through the gym.

More dominating than before, Vecna strides forward. His new target for the moment is clearly El, shown in the way his eyes don't leave her figure. She's a wall, blocking him from what he wants.

"Stay back," Eleven warns Carla and Max, before pacing forward in the direction of the demon. The Wheeler does as she's asked, but steps forward in front of the Mayfield.

The two just walk towards each other in a tense silence. They circle, stopping across from one another, eyes still locked. As dominating as Vecna seems to be, Eleven shows no wavering fear whatsoever. She stands her ground.

"If you touch them again, I will kill you again." El threatens, more serious than Carla has ever seen before.

"Is that what you did? Hm?" Vecna growls, clearly intrigued by her choice of wording. "Did you kill me? I am so glad you are here, Eleven. This is going to beautiful." Slowly, he began to levitate in the air, raising his claws to bring giant splinters of wooden planks with him. "So beautiful. And it's all thanks to you."

He sends the splinters flying towards the Hopper, who tosses them to the side with her powers easily. Taking her moment of vulnerability, Vecna manages to will his power against hers and sends the younger girl down into the table behind her, the table crashing down to the floor with a thud.

Carla's eyes widen as Vecna uses his power to drag her right back into the air, throwing her back and forth across the gym as if she were a toy. Her grunts and pants of pain go ignored as she's slammed against table and dragged against the floor.

God, she feels horrible. She knows Eleven is strong but there was only so much she could take, right? Not like Carla can do anything against Vecna—

Just as Eleven is thrown through a giant white grate, Max starts darting right for Vecna with a giant splinter of wood in her hands. Carla quickly lurches for the redhead, but misses her sprinting figure,  "Max, no!"

With ease, Vecna shoos the Mayfield away with a wave of his hand. Max goes sliding across the floor, the back of her head thudding against the wall, leaving her unconscious.

Her legs carried her toward the other side of the gym before she could even process it, desperation driving her. Max couldn't be unconscious—not in her own mind. She couldn't be defenseless with Vecna still here.

But before Carla could reach her, Vecna raised a clawed hand. In an instant, she was ripped off her feet, her body yanked violently into the air. The force left her gasping as she floated several feet above the ground, her limbs frozen in place. No matter how hard she tried to move, she couldn't even twitch a finger. It was as though invisible chains wrapped around her entire body, squeezing tightly and rendering her immobile.

A sharp, suffocating pressure encased her throat, stealing the air from her lungs. Carla's eyes widened in terror as she struggled against Vecna's power, her chest heaving in a futile attempt to draw in breath.

Her mind screamed at her to fight, but her body betrayed her. Every muscle strained, but it was as if her entire being was paralyzed, held captive by Vecna's overwhelming strength. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she thrashed internally, desperate to escape his grip.

"Don't touch her—" Eleven thrust out a hand, but before she could unleash her power, Vecna turned his focus to her. With a flick of his wrist, Eleven's body jerked violently, her hand faltering mid-air as his control snared her too. A guttural grunt of strain left her lips as her head tilted back, her neck immobilized by the crushing force.

Whimpers and grunts of strain leave the back of her throat as she's left stuck in Vecna's hold. He leaves her merely with the ability to weakly twitch her fingers. He uncurls his finger and starts to raise El in the air too, the girl practically choking on his power. With a low growl, he brings the young girl towards him, who strains to break free of his powerful hold but is met with solace.

Carla's body remained suspended midair, her lungs burning as Vecna's relentless grip tightened around her throat. Panic clawed at her chest, every ounce of her willpower focused on resisting, but it was useless. The invisible chains bound her completely, and despair began to creep into her mind. All she could do was watch Eleven.

Vecna brings her inches away from his face, the girl seething.

"Before I kill you..." Vecna taunts, "....I want you to watch."

A cry leaves Eleven's lips as he thrusts her backwards, her body disappearing into the crimson haze of Vecna's twisted world.

"And you..."

"Leave.....her....alone." Carla manages to choke out through the constriction.

As soon as she speaks, the pressure around her throat intensifies, each breath harder than the last. She feels her vision begin to swim, and suddenly, the darkness closes in.

Carla's eyes flutter open, mind a blurry haze.

She's met with a fuzzy red all around her, and with a sudden spike of anxiety, it doesn't take her long to realize she's in Vecna's world. The walls ripple with dark veins, alive and pulsing with an unnatural rhythm, and the air is heavy and suffocating. Almost naturally, her breaths come shallower, chest rising and falling rapidly as she comes too it again and takes in her surroundings.

She's not in the safety of Max's memory anymore. She's in his territory.

Her head lolls weakly to the side, and she spots Max. The redheaded girl's head hangs low, her body slack; unconscious, still. Thick black vines twist around her wrists and under her arms, holding her suspended in place like a macabre puppet. Securing her.

Carla glances down at herself, and panic prickles at her skin. The same constrictions bind her: vines digging into her scars and biting painfully under her armpits. Each movement she makes causes them to tighten further, their slick, squelching texture pressing against her clammy skin. She winces but forces herself to look forward, her heartbeat hammering in her ears.

Everything hurts. Her body feels like lead, her thoughts sluggish. She can barely keep her head up, and the pounding in her skull makes her wince as her heartbeat hammers louder in her ears.

"All I needed was someone to open the door."

The low, guttural voice cuts through her haze like a blade. Carla's breath catches as her unfocused gaze shifts forward.

Eleven is strung up in front of her, bound to the Creel door by the same writhing black vines. Her arms are stretched out like a scarecrow, her head resting against the stained glass. Her chest is heaving with suppressed sobs.

Vecna stands in front of her. Tormenting.

"And you did that for me. Without even realizing it. Didn't you?" Vecna proceeds, voice low and guttural,"And when you did realize, you chose to resist. So I sought a means to open my own doors. I sought....your power. So, don't you see? Once again, you have freed me."

"You don't have to do this." Eleven manages, voice thick with emotion as she resists crying. In similar form to how she released Billy from his flayed trance, she whispers, "You can still stop this."

"Stop this? It is over, Eleven. " The creature mocks, a skeletal finger reaching to caress her cheek, a cold and unwelcome gesture. Eleven flinches but doesn't turn away, her determination cutting through her fear. "You think yourself strong enough to undo what you've already set in motion? Foolish. You were the key to the door—but not the only one holding it open."

Vecna's attention shifts, his piercing gaze settling on Carla.

The suffocating weight of his attention pulls at her sluggish mind, but she's too tired, too disoriented to react beyond a faint, instinctual flinch.  Vecna paces towards her, the sound of his steps reverberating through the red world, each one amplifying the pounding in her skull.

"You see, there is another reason I stand here now. A tether to the real world. A vessel..." Vecna reveals, " ....and it is her."

What?

His words slither into her ears, and a deep sense of dread settles in her chest. What was he talking about? 

Eleven shakily breathes, "What?"

Vecna turns his gaze toward Carla, his face twisting into a cruel semblance of a smile. "Tell me, Carla, have you yet realized your place in this grand design?"

Weakly, Carla grits, "Rot in hell."

"I could have been trapped forever in the abyss. But then there was you." Vecna hisses, leaning in closer as he taunted, "You have been my anchor. Since the moment you were marked, from the moment those scars burned themselves into your flesh, I have been sealed to you, Carla."

Carla's mind races to piece together the truth. A horrible realization settles in her chest. It wasn't just the nightmares or the feelings of dread—Vecna had always been with her, lurking just beneath the surface.

The scars. The ones she'd thought were a cruel, lasting reminder of her past encounters with him; the ones that had never done her anything good—they weren't just marks. They were a curse. A link.

This was all her fucking fault.

"All this time...." Vecna continues, his tone mocking. ".....you thought yourself a protector.  But it was you, Carla, who ensured my survival. It was you who brought me here." He turns back to El, "You do everything to protect your friend here, but it is she who has brought me here."

Carla feels her chest tighten with panic, her vision blurring as his words sink in. She was the reason he'd been able to linger, to hurt her friends, to wreak havoc. She was the reason the Upside Down had never truly left her and her friends alone.

"Through you, I have endured. Through you, I will finish what I began."

Eleven shakes her head, "You're lying."

"Am I?" Vecna  taunts, his gaze boring into hers. He then turns back to the Wheeler in front of him. "You've felt it, haven't you, Carla? The whispers in the dark. The pull of the shadows. Every time you doubted your own sanity, every time you thought you escaped me... I was always there. Watching. Waiting."

Carla shakes her head, practically crying. "No."

"All could have been rid of me." Vecna sneers, his voice echoing unnaturally through the air, each word like a shard of ice cutting into her soul. "If only you had stayed dead....." He turns around to face Eleven again. "But you..." The girl lets out a small sob. "....you brought her back."

Carla's chest rises and falls in shallow, uneven breaths as Vecna's words settle over her like a suffocating shroud. Her heart pounds against her ribs, not from fear but from the ache of realization, a deep, twisting pain that roots itself in her very core.

"And by coming into my world, you only deepened that connection. You feel me in that wound on your shoulder, don't you?"

Carla let's out a quiet whimper.

The irony doesn't escape her. Just hours ago, she had finally allowed herself to believe she wanted to live. She had felt the faint flicker of hope, the fragile seed of self-worth taking root. But now, as the weight of her existence presses down on her, that flicker is extinguished.

Her head hangs low, her body sagging against the vines. The pressure on her skin, the piercing tightness of the bindings—none of it matters. The Wheeler's eyes flick to Max, still limp and unconscious, then to Eleven, tears streaming down her face as she struggles against the vines. Carla's throat tightens as shame swallows her whole.

Vecna tilts his head, his bony features twisted into a grotesque semblance of satisfaction. "Ah, there it is," he muses, his voice dripping with mockery. "The truth you've been running from. Acceptance at last."

Carla just wants this all to be over.

"There is nothing either of you can do to stop this now. Hawkins will burn and fall. And the rest of this senseless, broken, world. And I will be there. I will be there to pick up the pieces when it does. And remake it into something beautiful."

Vecna turns to Eleven, who's hanging her head low in shame, too. She'd failed.

"There was a time where I hoped to have you by my side." Vecna admits to the young girl, before turning away.  "But now I just want you to watch."

Vines crawl up around El's neck, choking her. She starts to whimper, showing true fear. Gone was the determined one who'd come to save the day—now, she was just El. A scared fifteen year old girl who didn't know what to do.

Vecna fully settles his attention on the Wheeler. His piercing, hollow eyes bore into her and without a word, he raised his skeletal hand right over her face.

"No!" Eleven screamed, her voice raw and desperate. "Carla!"

The vines around her throat squeezed tighter, cutting her off as she tried to shout again. Her scream turned into a choked cry, her face contorted in anguish. She thrashed against her bindings with everything she had, but it wasn't enough.

Carla lets out a small sob. This was it.

His hand hovered over her, and she could feel the oppressive weight of his power pressing down on her. It was suffocating, pulling at the very essence of her being. The scars on her body burned, as if they were alive and responding to him.

His power grew stronger and Carla's breaths came in ragged gasps as her head lolled backward, her strength failing her. Her eyes went back. There was a dull ringing in her ears, deafening most of the sound. The world around her seems to distort.  Death.

"You've asked for death, Carla." Vecna says, words barely transfer into Carla's brain.  Tears fell down from her unseeing eyes. Her body couldn't even fight as she was torn apart by an invisible force.

She was dying. She couldn't feel anything, but she knows that death's cold hand was wrapping around her heart, claiming her. It was what has been bound to happen for years now. All her fighting and pain for this moment.

"And as much I would like for you to join me here....."

Carla doesn't know if she's breathing. She can't see. She can't feel. She can only hear Vecna's taunts.

".....I cannot take you yet."

What?

Carla can barely think, but she knows she heard Vecna right.

"Until I'm able to walk in your world, I need you alive."

In a split second, Vecna drops his hand from above Carla. Her body goes slack, head limply falling as she gasped for breath.

"She will take your place."

No.

Carla's whole face goes gaunt as she watches his hand move right over Max, who was just gaining consciousness again.

Vecna tricked her. He made her think she was dying, spoke to her as if it were she who would be going, tortured her and tormented her mind for months, only to pull the rug. To reveal that she was the reason he was alive, that he couldn't kill her without killing himself.

"No!" Carla scream is raw as she watches Vecna. "You fucker! Stop it!"

The Mayfield can barely let out a whimper as her head is forced up, eyes rolling back into her skull as her breathing slows. Her body convulsed, stuck in Vecna's hold as he sucked the life right out of her.

Carla's never seen anything more horrific.

"I'll be seeing you soon, Carla."

Carla's body dropped from the air like a rag-doll, hitting the ground with a sickening thud.

Agony erupted through her in a matter of seconds. There's a stabbing pain where her left arm and leg should be, but she can't even feel anything there—pins and needles is all, but even that is dull compared to white-hot agony that radiated everywhere.

She thinks her eyes are open, but she can't see. She can barely make out a figure, sitting a few inches away from her, reaching out, but everything is dark. Blurry. There's a warm liquid coming down her face from her eyes. Blood.

Speaking of blood, Carla can taste it deep in her throat, thick and metallic. It chokes her with every intake of air, intakes that make it feel like knives carving into her ribs. Her chest barely rises with each breath, each coming shallow and broken, her lungs rattling.

She sputters against the thick liquid, fighting for air. Coughing just brings more blood. Blood. Blood. Blood.

Her body feels like an unbearable cacophony of torment, but somehow she was alive. At least, Carla thinks she's alive.

"Carla!"

Lucas Sinclair's voice feels like it's coming from a million miles away, fuzzy as it came into her ears. Carla lifted her head in the direction she thought she heard him, eyes barely making out a hand reaching for her.

"Oh my God—Carla!" Lucas sobs, voice more broken than the Wheeler has ever heard it before. More distraught, ruined. Drenched in horror.

"Lucas!"

A new voice. Erica, maybe?

"We need a doctor!" Lucas cries out, holding back a sob. Carla tries to focus in on the body resting in the Sinclair boys lap, who's feet are twisted at odd angles. "Call an ambulance! Hurry! Call an ambulance!"

"Lucas..."

Another voice barely comes into Carla's ringing ears, but she knows. God, she knows. 

"Yes,  yes, I'm here." Lucas reassures, clutching the red-headed girl in his arm. "I'm here."

Through sheer will, Carla forced herself to move. Every inch forward was a new wave of agony as she dragged her broken body toward Max. Her nails scraped against the ground, trembling fingers reaching out desperately. Her good arm trembled. She can hear guttural sounds of utter pain leaving her throat as she tries.

"Max..." She weakly croaks. She forced herself to focus, clinging to the thread of consciousness as her body screamed in agony.

"Carla, don't—don't move!" Lucas doesn't know what to do. His hands and shaking, and his words come out shakier. He's holding the girl he loves in his arms, and watching a girl who's nothing less than a sister to him cry out in utter pain as she dragged herself towards him, a trail of blood following the leg that's being dragged. Both have blood everywhere. Bones are twisted at un-natural angles on each. "Please."

Max must have been able to hear something, "....Carla?"

Carla reaches out the hand she can manage to move, feeling it around until she feels something cold—skin. Max's hand.

"I'm so sorry... Max. I couldn't... " Carla manages to say, voice choked as she struggles to find the air to speak. She clutched onto the Mayfield's unfeeling hand, as if that made anything better. Max was dead because of her. "I couldn't protect you."

Max's breath hitched, words struggling to escape as she struggled to gasp for air. "It's not your fault... It's not your fault—" Gasp. "Stay. Stay with me. Please."

"I'm here." Carla weakly squeezes the Mayfield's hand, feeling her own head growing lighter. "Max, just—just stay."

"I—I can't feel or...." Max barely manages to speak, words staccato and broken. "See—see anything."

"I know, I know. It's okay. We're gonna get you some help, okay?" Lucas fumbles, choking on his own words. He breaks one hand away from the Mayfield and Carla feels it land atop of her own, "Both of you, okay? Just...just hold on."

"Lucas, I'm so scared." Max whimpers, "I'm so scared. Carla, please—"

"I know, I know, I know—"

"I don't wanna die, I'm not ready!" Max cries out, gasping and choking on her own breath.

Lucas sobs, "You're not gonna die, please—just hang on!"

"I don't wanna go—I'm not ready! I don't wanna!"

"You're not gonna die! Just hang on!"

Carla breaths came out in staccato gasps as could felt herself losing consciousness. With every breath, it became harder to stay conscious. The weight of everything—Max's pain, her own, Lucas's desperation—pressed down on her until she could no longer hold on.

The crying and screaming around her became too muffled for her to understand. Something of Max's name, of her own. Some 'stay with me!'s'. A lot of sobs and broken pleads from Lucas. She felt a hand shake her own figure at times.

Her grasp on the Mayfield's hand grew weaker as she let her head go limp against the floor. She tried her best to focus on her breathing, but it felt pointless as the darkness closed in.

"Lucas," Carla whispered weakly, head growing horribly light. She tried to look up at him.  "Please... don't—don't let her die."

Carla didn't want to believe Max was already dead when she said that. She wouldn't.

"Carla, not you too! Please!" Lucas sobs as he looks down at the older girl. He watches as her eyes flutter, searching for the will to stay. "Carla—Carla, can you hear me? Carla?!"

Silence. That's all Lucas Sinclair is left in.

"Erica, help!"

Carla feels herself go as the floor beneath her starts to crack.

mara's misc

um.

yeah i know you all hate me rn BUT i did not kill her like i did in gone okay.

truly, i couldn't kill carla, or leave her like max (fully, that is). as much as it made sense, i couldn't replace max's "death" with carla. i've already killed her once, and i didn't want to leave on such an unsure note, especially when i'm not sure how st5 will go. i'd hate to have to sideline my girl if max is in a coma for 3 of the 8 episodes if you get what i'm saying? if i did know what happened to max, maybe i would have offed her.

so anywho everyone be grateful for the duffers taking 5758493 years to get out a season!!!

but, with my decision to have vecna not take carla, i obviously had to come up with a good reason, and i hope i did okay? simply, vecna cannot thrive in the real world without carla. eleven opened the gate, BUT ever since the demogorgon marked her, she's been the reason he's able to thrive. he saw billy through her. he sees the world through her. and until he is strong enough and has no threats, he has to keep carla alive for his own sake. all of his fucking around was to simply fuck around.

i ofc had to add the irony that if they hadn't revived carla in gone, vecna would have never come so soon. my girl realized she wanted to live only to find out she is better off dead (yeah st5 will not be kind to her poor soul)

the wound on her shoulder is connected. vecna is more connected to her with it.

i really wish i was a writer who planned from the beginning, because honestly this could have been way more cool to dive deeper into but i mean it when i say i pulled this out of my ass writing this chapter. however, i do really like it.

by doing this i might also be setting carla up for a samantha fraser/fear street 1994 ending depending on how st5 goes BUT we will get there when we get there.

be mad at me, ask questions, idk this made sense in my teenage girl brain. if i'm able too i'll totally be going on with this in st5.

MOVING ON ofc i couldn't just leave my girl unscathed. had to break her (literally) a little bit.

also goldensunrays- i'm just gonna apologize here in my own advance, i know you've metaphorically shot yourself already in 1000 different places.

anywho published this because tomorrow i go back to school and i'll literally be more dead than fucking billy after it's done.

two days ago i watched the movie "the whale" and oh my god. sadie sinks acting is phenomenal like wow. that movie had me sobbing at the end brendan fraser the actor you are and don't even get me started with hong chau.....horrifying but like oh my god the ACTING.

on a happier note, i decorated my room/re-did my posters here's a photo (i'm not done with my fangirl tiny picture section btw)

hope you enjoyed <3 see you back with the final chapter!!!