𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍 - captured

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 "𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐄." 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐓 whispered, the words plunging from her tongue like unruly vomit. She wasn't the only one to quiver before the sight, for Steve had swallowed, and Dustin's fingers looked as though they'd burst from the force of the fists they'd created.

 It was a nightmare. Plain and simple... though not actually simple at all. Everything they had buried and left behind them, everything that came in the form of treacherous dreams keeping them up at night... it was all flooding back. But this was no fantasy. No alarm clock could save them... this was real. The Gate was right there, seemingly whispering to them as rich russet seeped from the slice upon the wall... it looked like blood within a wound.

 It was festering.

 All at once, it hit Scarlet; the pain, the terror, the guilt. Her abdomen throbbed and she'd been surprised to find that she hadn't tumbled backwards — it was like she'd been hit by the Mind Flayer all over again.

 Eleven... Will... they didn't need this. They didn't deserve this. Why did it have to happen again? Why did they have to be put on the chopping block with their eyes peeled open to watch as their nightmares gathered like soldiers upon the front line?

 Scarlet felt her stomach twist once more, like ocean waves battering relentlessly against craggy rocks... She was going to hurl. It was all too much; she liked to pretend that the Mind Flayer didn't visit her at night, or whenever she heard the chime of a clock... but it did. With every bit of shut-eye, she could see it once more. Tall, invasive and utterly terrifying. Nothing short of a monster.

 A hand clasped her own, and it was just as clammy as her palms. Steve yanked her wrist, his other hand at Dustin's spine, "Come on, we gotta get out of here." His voice was a baritone and dreadful whisper to remind them all that if they were just a little noisier, they'd likely feel their organs pop beneath the weight of firing bullets.

 Steve knew the look her eyes harboured; distress. But it pained him to know that the look she held and cradled like a babbling child... wasn't for herself, not even a speck. Steve knew Scarlet couldn't have cared less about what would happen to her — she only cared about the others. About himself. About Robin, Dustin, Erica and everyone else back atop the surface.

 It infuriated him.

 He tugged her along.

 "I don't understand." Robin hopped down the final step, a single pace behind Steve and Scarlet whose hands were still firmly locked together. They'd need a crowbar to pry them apart, she thought. "You guys have seen this before?"

 "Not exactly." Steve evaded, his voice plain, though an octave lower than usual.

 The Gate had still been a mystery to them; only Eleven and Hopper had travelled through the lab to destroy it, all the while they'd been at the ready within the tunnels... so seeing it now, seeing the very place their nightmares stemmed from... Steve sucked in a breath, tossing a look over his shoulder as Dustin cleared the air.

 "All you need to know is that it's bad."

 "It's really bad," Steve confirmed.

 "Like, end-of-the-human-race-as-we-know-it kind of bad."

 Robin managed a scoff, though from the dead silence she received from Scarlet, the blank stare directed towards the ground, and the stark white of her friend's knuckles... Robin started to feel a swell of panic rise above her distaste, "And you know about this... how?"

 They halted, right in the very centre of the room. Something was wrong. Something was missing... Scarlet twisted her head, fingers finally pulling free from Steve's clammy hold. The ground was utterly bare, yet a patch of smeared blood stained the floor, right by her shoe.

 The Russian. He was gone.

 Erica had noticed too, "Uh, Steve? Where's your little Russian friend?"

 Steve's eyes stooped to the side, slowly lowering, lowering... until he swallowed. A single gulp told them all that they needed to know, and yet, as though to assist their thoughts, the sound of trumpeting sirens shattered through the air. It pierced their ears, a shrill noise that rattled around their skulls until they ached.

 Then flashing lights joined the fray. Red glares bounced from wall to wall, flashing over their skin and illuminating their eyes. Scarlet often enjoyed seeing people glossed in vibrant crimson, but this, this was bad.

 Scarlet's jaw locked, teeth clattering together as she spun on her heel. What could they do? What could she do? She might have been the product of a laboratory experiment, a freak with abilities that shouldn't have existed... but at the end of the day, they were still just a bunch of kids. Who knew if what they were doing was the right thing? They only had their own judgement to go by... and the judgement of a former experiment, a former asshole-jock, a band nerd, and a couple of kids... Well, it couldn't have been much to go by.

 She tried to calm the storm beginning to brew beneath the surface, really, she did; but what had they done to possibly deserve to fight for their lives once again? Why did people seem to deem it necessary to put everything onto a bunch of kids' shoulders? It would have been so much easier if she didn't care about the people by her side.

 Steve moved first, his feet carrying him silently towards the door, his swarthy and worried eyes peeking through a fissure in the door. His hands were white as he bore the door open just a smidge... there was chaos on the other side; Russians enveloped in murky green were racing to and fro, shouts and yells resounding down the vast tunnels. They were scouring relentlessly for their intruders, and they certainly had the means to snuff them out.

 It was that very moment, when the door creaked, that everything fell apart. A group of the soldiers pivoted, ever so slowly, until their eyes met Steve's. Their faces fell; anger-flushed cheeks appeared to rise as snarls dusted their wilting lips. Then, they surged like water breaking from a dam.

 As swiftly as his spindly limbs would allow, Steve whipped around and slammed the door shut behind him. The sound was a countdown, coercing them to run as far as they possibly could. The question was... where the hell could they go?

 For now, Steve didn't dwell on that. Without a single look needing to be passed between them, Steve and Scarlet corralled their friends, waving hands ushering them forth. It didn't matter if they couldn't think of a place to run and hide, they just couldn't stay where they were.

 Robin took the lead, blundering as she went. Her knees seemed to lock, her ankles twisting like vines up a trellis but she managed to keep herself upright at least, all the while her hands grappled for the walls to keep her steady. She hopped up the staircase they'd previously abandoned with Dustin and Erica hot on her heels. Robin tossed a stray glance just to make sure Scarlet and Steve were there; she might have teased Steve relentlessly, but even Robin couldn't deny that she had come to see the idiot as a friend.

 The concern was... the very staircase they were scrambling to ascend, was the exact one that would lead them to a gaggle of white-coated scientists, the machine... and, Scarlet thought with a shiver, the Gate.

 Dustin skimmed by Robin, fingers clawing at the door handle. He flung the door open, eyes popping wide as each and every scientist angled their way. Slowly but surely, each of them sported menacing scowls. Glasses were plucked from eyes, and some jumped from their chairs, sending papers scuttling through the air.

 The boy took his chance and rushed ahead, muttering a string of curses as he went. Scarlet pushed onwards, sure to keep her eyes drawn ahead. She always took the rear, just in case. She followed dutifully as Dustin led the way, he took a hard left, avoiding the chaos of people scrambling towards them.

 Their legs were already aching, the feeling of taut muscles making their faces screw up, but soldiers had broken through, heavy boots thudding behind them like a taunt, like a mantra. The group continued their sprint across the metal bridge surrounding the machine, and Dustin screeched so very high as he shoved a man in a scarlet suit into the railings. He almost toppled over. They kept pumping their legs to the tune of Russian yells but quickly came to an abrupt halt as the curly-haired boy realised just how close they were to the laser pumping out of the machine.

 Crackles filled the air, it was white hot, and sweat had already bloomed on their skin, sheening beneath that white light. Scarlet could feel the electricity reaching out, pulling the hairs on her arms upright like puppets on strings. The worst of it, however, was that feeling seeping from the gate.

 The scar pulsated, vines squirming as though someone had taken a feather to tickle them. But for Scarlet, it was like hands had clasped her arms, tightened around her legs, and pummelled at her stomach. She could sense him, the Mind Flayer. It was calling out to her, a deep and hollow growl filling her ears... Almost whispering her name. Yet her companions couldn't hear a damn thing. Maybe she was going crazy.

 A clock chimed, and Scarlet could feel her throat tighten, her head surge as though something, or someone, was trying to worm through her protected memories. She was still moving, trying her hardest to keep up all the while pressure built within her skull.

 When her dazed vision cleared, and her ears finally began to feed her noise once more, Scarlet could feel Steve's hand around her wrist. She could hear their hastened steps thundering ahead. They'd already moved away from the machine, each of them positioned at the bottom of a set of stairs, the door ahead was just within sight.

 They advanced once more.

 To Scarlet's right, she could see the scrambling group of armed Russians pushing their way forth. Guns were drawn, shouts were free, and their footsteps were unrelenting. She swallowed the lump in her throat, her hands balling into fists and swiftly darted onward. Her friends followed, and the moment they were all tucked behind her, Scarlet allowed just a slight sliver of crimson to crawl from her palms, scuttle in the shadows and send a stack of barrels towards the ground.

 They hurried, using the distraction to throw a stray door open; Scarlet lept inside, her hands clawing at Dustin and Erica, practically launching them to safety. Steve and Robin bounded through. Their faces were a blistering red, eyes wide with a queasy mixture of adrenaline and horror.

 Steve kept his back firmly planted against the door, willing, pleading for his chest to fall silent. His breathing was hustled, lungs scrambling to swallow as much air as they possibly could. Scarlet recovered, a hand stuck against her chest to quell her thudding heart as she joined Steve's side, trying with all her might to keep the door latched shut.

 The thing is... they were just teenagers. They wouldn't be able to hold on forever. So Scarlet shut her eyes, swallowed the fear on her tongue, and looked to Dustin. She could see the unfiltered terror in his wide eyes. The shaking of his hands. He was just a kid, and so was Erica.

 Scarlet discerned Steve's fingers brushing her hand as though to tell her that he knew they wouldn't be making it out... but as long as they brought enough time, the kids could find their freedom.

 "Dustin." Scarlet sounded, her voice strained, "Go."

 The door rattled, surging Steve and Scarlet away just for a moment. They scrambled back, pushing harder, watching as their fingers grew white, as their arms rattled. Robin, after a moment, forced her gut back down her throat and joined them. She managed to weasel between her friends, her freckled fingers slamming against the metal, fingertips searing.

 Erica was crying out, pointing to the small latch she'd found; an escape route. But Dustin hadn't moved. No, he was shaking his head.

 "Henderson! Go!" Steve yelled, almost biting his tongue as the Russians pounded on the door.

 "I'm not leaving without you!"

 Scarlet focused on the young boy, she knew if he and Erica didn't leave now... They'd all be captured, each without a single means of escape. Dustin was smart and Erica was utterly relentless. If they broke free, Scarlet had no doubt that they'd find some way to get herself, Steve, and Robin out. They'd never give up. So, for now, Scarlet was perfectly content with staying behind.

 "You have to go! Dustin, please!" Her voice was nothing but pure desperation. He met her eyes, having tried to avoid them for some time.

 Dustin knew that while she would never say no to himself and his friends... They were the same. Scarlet could have asked him to throw himself into the quarry, she could have asked Will to climb to the roof of his home and dangle over the edge, ask Eleven to venture alone in the dark with nobody to call out to... and they'd all say yes without a hint of hesitation.

 So when he saw the pleading within her face, he choked. His rebuttal faltered and turned to a clogged cough struggling to free itself from his ever-tightening throat. He didn't want to leave them, he was tired of watching as they threw themselves into the line of fire. Steve had gathered even more bruises and scrapes just to protect them, and Scarlet was willing to put herself in danger just to keep them safe... again.

 But he needed to find help. So Dustin nodded, just once, "We'll get you out of here."

 "I know — I know you will." Scarlet whispered, then her eyes hardened, "Now go!"

 With that, Dustin trailed like a wounded puppy towards the hatch. He held a hand out for Erica to take... it was ignored as she hopped down. "We'll get you out." He whispered to himself. He wouldn't leave them to rot.

 He hopped into the hole, and the latch was sealed shut with an echoing scrape.

 There was no need to keep up their fight with the Russians. They were just three stupid teenagers who should have known better than to go chasing after a concealed code. They should never have let a couple of kids follow them... but now... now it was all useless.

 Scarlet let up, her hands parting from the door. Their capture was inevitable, so what was the point in pretending they'd escape? All at once, fatigue hit her like a truck. Her eyes no longer winded with horror, no, they teetered shut, threatening to send her to sleep. Her legs buckled, shaking like leaves battling the winter breeze, and she toppled to the floor. Her trembling hands could scarcely lessen her fall.

 Steve and Robin followed shortly, jostled by a particularly hard blow from the Russians. Steve smacked his head, a throbbing bruise likely to blossom while Robin swiftly cradled the arm she'd managed to squish as she fell.

 Heavy black boots surrounded them, circling them like vultures to corpses... Scarlet rose her head, peering through her furrowed brows, a snarl on her lips as she spat a particular curse in Russian. But the view she'd been met with made it falter, made the word die halfway off her tongue. A dozen guns were pointed at their faces, the cool barrels almost licking at their skin.

 She could have moved, could have thrown her hand forth to send them away; but would Steve and Robin have been able to duck away from a storm of bullets in time? Would she have been able to summon the strength even through the haze of fatigue?

 It didn't matter, really. For a man broke through the circle, his hands secured behind his back. His uniform was darker than the others, neatly pressed into harsh lines and edges. Scarlet could hear his watch ticking, his fingers drumming against his own hand. One nod was all it took, and Scarlet, Steve and Robin plummeted to darkness with nothing more than a dull ache at the base of their skulls.

 Scarlet's vision swam when she came to, and while she made to cradle her own head, to soothe the throbbing patch of skin that had been assaulted with the but of a gun... she couldn't. Her hands were entirely bound. A thick rope had been tied around her wrists, rummaging through her flesh. She could feel raw cuts on her skin, they'd be red and split by now, blood likely to spill over.

 The feeling was familiar, but that was of no comfort at all. Panic had already brewed like a witch's potion within her gut. Grey walls and twine around her wrists. It was too familiar.

 Her head rolled, a harsh click bouncing from wall to wall, yet the relief was enough for now. The room was dull, like the rest of the place. It was grey and dark, the smell of mildew throttled her senses, and the sound of buzzing made her skin crawl.

 There were three grey walls. One to her left, one to her right, and another in front; she couldn't quite contort far enough to glance at the one behind her. They had cracks trailing down them, marring them like dutifully weaved spiderwebs. There was just one exit she could spy, blinking through the daze of pain that ricochet through her skull... once again, a keycard was required and she was certain there'd be a guard on the other side just... waiting for her.

 She swallowed the lump of panic in her throat at the familiar feeling of confinement, forcing her unseeing eyes to clear through the fog once more. There was a single desk in the room, located against the wall in front of her, as though she was a student waiting for the principal to reprimand her. If only that was the circumstance.

 The table balanced an old and rusted lamp, the only source of light within the room. The bulb above her flickered here and there but eventually gave up, dying like a pitiful firefly. There was something else on the desk, a long scroll of cloth with instruments resting atop; the only giveaway that they were even there, was the haunting glint that shined from their edges.

 As another sharp pain shot through her skull like a bullet, Scarlet winced. She stewed within the pain, the panic... the hope that Dustin and Erica had made it, that they'd be able to get them some help. Them.

 That was when it hit her.

 Them.

 But there was no 'them'... Scarlet was completely alone.

 They weren't here. There was no string of mutters spewing from Steve, no awkward and fearful chuckles slipping from Robin's freckled features as she struggled to smother them. Scarlet was absolutely alone.

So... where were they? Where the hell were Steve and Robin?

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21-03-2020

edited version: 26/10/2022

:·ﾟ★Oops, miss Scarlet has been separated from her sailors... wonder how this changes things... it's actually quite traumatic, so please keep it in mind when reading the next chapter my loves (guns involved, nothing else!)

oh and a PSA: readers? stop telling me how to write MY story. It's fucking infuriating.

don't forget to let me know what you think; and remember that i now require a particular number of comments and feedback before i consider releasing the next part (this is just to ensure people remain engaged and supportive, as well as to allow me to see what you all enjoyed most!), please give me a follow, and please do NOT leave comments telling me to update; they'll be ignored and you'll be muted, much love <3

cannot believe how funny i am x