Chapter 9: The Trap
Benny's Burgers was indeed not far from the Lab, about three miles as the crow flies, reachable by crossing a dense forest and a few remote country roads.
This distance was already the limit for Eleven, who had escaped the Lab and was exhausted, but for Brenner's search party, it meant she was still within an effective tracking radius.
Andy paced in the basement, constantly thinking about whether he had missed anything.
His telepathic connection still maintained a faint link with Eleven, allowing him to sense her state; the satisfaction after being full was gradually replaced by unease, her trust in Benny was growing, but she could feel that safety was only temporary.
"Not safe," Andy murmured to himself, his eyes fixed on the hand-drawn map of Hawkins on the wall. "None of them are safe."
He marked the locations of the Lab, the abandoned house, and Benny's Burgers on the map, forming an irregular triangle.
The house was furthest from the Lab, about eight miles away, while the burger joint was between the two.
This meant if the search party set out from the Lab to find Eleven, they would likely pass through the area where he was now.
More importantly, if that Demogorgon had also escaped from the Lab, then all of Hawkins was unsafe. That kind of thing clearly wasn't something ordinary weapons could handle.
"The sooner we meet, the sooner we leave." Andy made his decision.
He couldn't wait until dawn; every extra minute increased the risk of Eleven being discovered.
Moreover, although the night was dangerous, it also provided cover; the darkness could hide their tracks.
He moved quickly. Taking a small backpack from his hiding spot, he thought it over and finally only packed a bag of snacks and some scavenged change.
He put on a dark gray hooded sweatshirt he had "borrowed" from a thrift store in town three years ago; the hood was large, and after pulling it up, it could almost cover his entire face.
Finally, he stood before the only intact mirror in the basement, looking at himself.
Twelve years old, his blonde hair had grown to his shoulders due to a long time without a trim.
His face was pale, a result of not seeing sunlight for a long time. His eyes were still that unusually light color, almost appearing to glow in the dim light.
He had grown taller, but was still thin; the hoodie looked a bit empty on him.
He didn't look like a normal teenager, but at least he didn't look like the test subject numbered 012 from the Lab.
Andy took a deep breath, pulled up his hood to cover most of his face, leaving only his chin and lips exposed.
Time to go.
The forest in the abandoned neighborhood took on a completely different appearance at night than during the day.
Moonlight was cut into fragments by the dense canopy, casting flickering, surreal patches of light on the ground.
The wind through the branches made a sound like whispering.
Occasionally, the calls of owls came from afar, echoing through the trees.
Andy was already very familiar with this forest. For three years, he had moved through it like a ghost, remembering every path, every hiding spot, and every water source.
He knew how to walk in the dark without the help of light and without tripping, and how to make his footsteps as light as falling leaves.
He chose the most direct route: entering the forest from the house's back door, following a faint trail south, then entering the edge of the "restricted zone" where Hawkins National Laboratory was located, before turning west toward the highway where Benny's Burgers was.
The first few miles went smoothly. Andy moved at a steady pace while dedicating part of his consciousness to sensing Eleven's location.
Eleven seemed a bit calmer now; Benny had let her take a hot bath and given her clean clothes—an oversized yellow t-shirt and sweatpants.
She could feel warmth and safety, but Andy could sense her deep-seated anxiety: she knew she couldn't stay long.
But before long, as night fell, Andy instantly lost Benny's mental signal.
This gave Andy a jolt; he quickly sat down under a tree, focusing all his energy on sensing the situation at the burger joint.
Time went back to half an hour ago.
Benny had finished his day's work and was washing dishes, while Eleven, dressed in the oversized t-shirt, sat in the back kitchen eating ice cream.
"You like ice cream, don't you?"
Hearing this, Eleven smiled happily; this was the first time someone had been so kind to her.
"You look pretty when you smile," Benny said, seeing Eleven's confusion, he also smiled and explained, "Smile, understand?"
Seeing Benny's friendly smile, Eleven also laughed.
Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door, and Eleven became as restless as a startled bird.
Seeing Eleven's state, Benny comforted her: "Alright, you stay put. No matter who it is, I'll send them away."
Benny opened the door to find a woman in a suit standing there with a professional smile. "Good evening, you must be Benny Hammond."
"I am. We're closed for the night, come back tomorrow morning," Benny said.
"Connie Frazier, from Social Services." Seeing this, the woman quickly revealed her identity.
Benny had a sudden realization: "Oh, Social Services. Sorry, I didn't expect you to get here so fast; it's quite a drive."
"The traffic is good at night," the woman maintained her smile.
"Listen," Benny's tone softened, glancing toward the back kitchen and whispering.
"I told her you were coming. I don't want her to run away again; she's a bit spooked."
The window in the back kitchen was slightly open; Eleven had finished her ice cream and was looking outside curiously.
"The children I deal with are usually like that," the woman said impatiently upon hearing this.
"So, where is she?"
"Come on, I'll take you to see her." The simple exchange made Benny let down his guard.
"Thank you."
"Sorry I almost turned you away," Benny said as he walked.
"It's fine."
"By the way, your voice doesn't sound like the one on the phone..."
Benny was about to turn and ask, but the woman was already prepared, drawing her pistol.
A gunshot rang out, and Benny fell to the floor.
Eleven was startled by the sudden shot and quickly ran toward the back door.
At this moment, Dr. Martin Brenner also stepped into the room. Accompanied by two screams, he looked toward the back door and hurried over.
But by then, Eleven had already escaped.
The scene shifted; Andy withdrew his mind, taking a sharp breath.
"Papa?" Obviously, he had also seen Dr. Brenner.
Andy quickly got up; Eleven and the Doctor were so close—if she was caught, she would be taken back to the Lab again.
Andy sped up, but as he entered the forest surrounding the Lab, a certain sensation suddenly hit him.
It wasn't a physical sensation, but more like... a sense of spacetime dislocation.
It was as if the surrounding air had suddenly become thick, and the flow of time had undergone a subtle change.
The sounds of the forest—the wind, the insects, the rustling leaves—became distant in an instant, as if coming through a layer of thick glass.
The shadows under the moonlight seemed to stretch and twist, forming unnatural shapes.
Andy stopped and looked around warily.
This feeling was very familiar. Three years ago, on the night he escaped from the Lab, he had a similar sensation before passing out in the forest; at that time, he thought it was a hallucination caused by exhausting his powers.
But now he was clear-headed, and his powers were in a stable state.
"What is this?" he whispered to himself, his hands instinctively tightening on the straps of his backpack.
He expanded his telepathic sense, scanning the surroundings.
The normal forest consciousness: the slow life pulse of the trees, the alertness of nocturnal animals, the simple neural activity of insects.
But in this normal background, there was a... wrongness.
It was like a drop of incompatible oil mixed into a painting; though tiny, it destroyed the overall harmony.
That feeling was like a "wrinkle" in spacetime, a "crack" in reality.
Andy remembered the files in the Lab, some that Brenner had once classified, information about alternate dimensions or rather, an alternate world.
Back then, he thought those were just theories, part of Brenner's mad plan to use Henry to push test subjects beyond their limits.
But now, standing in this nighttime forest and feeling that sense of dislocation, he began to suspect those theories might have a real basis.
"The Gate..." he murmured.
Andy immediately thought of the gate that Henry had supposedly opened.
The gate the Demogorgon had passed through, the gate that was affecting the structure of reality.
Regardless, the most important thing right now was to find Eleven.
As long as they left Hawkins, as long as they stayed away from the Lab and that gate, these anomalies should disappear.
Andy forced himself to ignore the discomfort and continue forward. But his pace instinctively quickened, and his heart rate began to accelerate.
After walking about half a mile, that feeling emerged again.
This time it was stronger and more concrete.
Not just a sense of spacetime dislocation, but also... a feeling of being watched.
It wasn't a human gaze, nor an animal's alertness, but a cold, inhuman gaze full of hunger.
Andy spun around, his hoodie slipping off with the movement, his blonde hair shimmering in the moonlight.
The forest split into two layers in his eyes: the normal visual layer—trees, shadows, moonlight; and the mental perception layer—a map of the consciousness field.
And on the mental level, he saw it.
A void.
It wasn't that nothing was there, but rather a void formed by the "absence" of something.
Like a black hole, it swallowed all surrounding mental signals. The consciousness of the trees tore around it, and even the moonlight seemed to bend where it was.
It was moving. Slowly but surely, it was approaching him.
Andy's heart pounded like a drum; he tried to lock onto the specific form of that void, but his mental perception was absorbed and distorted like light meeting a black hole as it approached.
He only knew it was there, knew it was dangerous, and knew it wanted... it wanted him.
This realization was like ice water poured over his entire body.
Andy began to back away, simultaneously gathering his mental strength.
Telekinetic power condensed in his consciousness, like invisible muscles tensing, preparing to respond to an attack.
But the attack came faster than he anticipated.
That void suddenly "leapt" out of the mental plane, materializing in the real world.
From the shadow of an oak tree, it charged out.
This was the first time Andy saw it clearly while conscious, no longer through Dr. Ballard's terrified perspective, but facing it directly.
It was about twice Andy's size, but its form was nothing like an earthly creature.
Its body was like a horrific combination of some predator and something alien, a pale hide covered in viscous slime, with four long, skeletal limbs supporting its body, making a tooth-grinding clicking sound as it moved.
But the most terrifying part was its "head," if it could be called that.
No eyes, no nose, no ears, only a constantly opening and closing petal-like structure composed of five fleshy "lips," each inner surface lined with fine, needle-like teeth.
In the center was a bottomless hole, with more small tendrils squirming around the edges.
The monster rushed toward him with startling speed, its limbs gouging deep furrows into the forest floor.
"Shit!" Andy reacted instinctively.
Telekinetic power struck out like an invisible battering ram.
Bang!
The monster was hit, its body flying backward and slamming into a pine tree with a sickening cracking sound.
Viscous black liquid seeped from the cracks in its hide, dripping onto the fallen leaves with a hissing, corrosive sound.
Andy panted, maintaining a defensive stance, thinking it was over.
But the monster slowly, strugglingly, stood up.
The hide where it had been hit by the telekinetic force was torn and its limbs were twisted, but it seemed to feel no pain.
The petal-like face turned toward Andy; despite having no eyes, Andy could feel it "looking" at him.
Then it charged again.
This time, Andy did not hesitate.
He thought of Henry again—thought of the coldness, the efficiency, and the indifference Henry showed when killing the guards, treating life like a match that could be snuffed out at will.
Andy didn't want to become Henry.
But he didn't want to die either.
He tilted his head slightly to the right, an almost imperceptible movement.
Snap.
The monster's neck twisted at an impossible angle and then snapped completely.
The petal-like face slumped limply, the central hole opening and closing one last time, as if in a silent scream.
The monster fell to the ground and stopped moving.
Andy stood there, breathing heavily; he felt the familiar sting of ruptured capillaries, and his nose began to bleed.
He skillfully wiped away the blood with his sleeve, his movements mechanical, as if he had done it countless times.
"Is this what I was sensing?"
He whispered in confusion, both asking himself and confirming.
It seemed that "Gate" had not only released monsters but also made the reality structure of the entire area unstable. Were these monsters just precursors to something even more terrifying?
Whatever it was, Andy knew Hawkins was no longer safe.
He had to find Eleven as soon as possible, then leave—the further, the better.
He turned to continue on his way, but just as he took his first step, another anomaly occurred.
He hadn't noticed that the fallen monster's corpse wasn't completely "dead." That black slime was still seeping out, soaking into the forest soil.
The fallen leaves around the corpse began to turn black, curl up, and turn to ash.
The ground began to soften.
It wasn't ordinary moist soil, but a more terrifying, organic softening, like living tissue swallowing its prey.
The monster's corpse began to sink, being "absorbed" by the ground; as it sank, cracks appeared in the earth.
They weren't earthquake cracks, but more regular, radial cracks, like a blooming crimson flower.
Andy had just taken two steps when he suddenly felt his ankle being grabbed by something.
Cold, sticky, and powerful.
He looked down and gasped.
What emerged from the cracks in the ground weren't roots or vines, but some kind of fleshy tentacles—pale, covered in protruding vein-like structures, their ends splitting into finer tendrils, tightly wrapped around his ankle.
He tried to break free, but the strength of the tentacles was startling.
He tried to tear it apart with telekinesis, but the moment he concentrated—
More tentacles erupted from the cracks in the ground.
Five, ten, twenty... they were like living appendages from hell, growing wildly from the black cracks in the ground, waving in the air, and then lunging at Andy all at once.
Andy only had time to let out a short cry before being submerged in a mass of tentacles.
They wrapped around his legs, his waist, his arms, his neck.
The cold, slimy sensation came through his clothes, and those tiny tendrils tried to bore into his ears, nostrils, and mouth.
Andy struggled desperately, his telekinetic power releasing outward like an explosion.
Tentacles were torn apart, black liquid sprayed, but more tentacles immediately took their place.
They seemed endless, as if the entire forest floor had become their source.
He felt himself being pulled down.
The ground was no longer solid; it had become a viscous, living bog, swallowing him.
Andy's last conscious thought was looking up; through the gaps in the tentacles, he saw the moonlight, the treetops, and the free sky.
Then he was pulled completely underground.
The crimson ground closed up like a wound healing, the tentacles retracted, the cracks disappeared, and fallen leaves once again covered the surface.
The forest returned to its calm.
Only one spot of ground was slightly raised, like freshly turned soil.
And a black mark extending outward from the mound.
A few fallen leaves were blown by the wind, slowly covering that mark.
Moonlight still fell coldly over the forest, as if nothing had happened.
But on some invisible level, reality had developed an irreparable crack.
And on the Other Side of that crack, Andy was falling.
Down, down, through the soil, through the rock, through the structural layers of reality itself.
Falling toward the "Upside Down."
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