Chapter 13: Unexpected Reunion
At the same time, in the Upside Down.
Will hid under the bed, his hands clamped tightly over his mouth, forcing his breathing down to the faintest whisper. His eyes were stretched wide, staring at the floor through the gaps in the hanging bedsheets.
The monster was back.
He could hear its footsteps and smell that rotting stench—stronger than before, almost making him gag.
He could feel its cold, malicious presence, like invisible tentacles groping around the room.
The shotgun was on the bed, but there were no shells left in it.
After discovering it was empty, Will had nowhere else to hide in the room and was forced to crawl under the bed.
Time became thick and viscous in absolute terror; every second stretched as long as an hour.
Will could hear his own heartbeat, hammering frantically in his chest like a trapped bird trying to break out of its cage.
He could feel sweat sliding down his forehead, dripping onto the floor with an almost inaudible tap.
The monster moved through the room, its footsteps sometimes distant, sometimes near—occasionally by the door, occasionally by the window.
Then, the wet, slimy sounds began to recede.
After waiting a few more minutes to make sure the absolute silence outside had returned, Will finally crawled out from under the bed.
He was trembling all over, half from fear and half from muscle stiffness caused by holding the same position for so long.
He stood up, stretched his limbs, and walked over to the telephone.
The receiver was still hanging there, but when he picked it up and put it to his ear, there was only silence.
No static, no sound of his mother's breathing, nothing at all.
He tried the walkie-talkie again; the power light was still on, but no matter which channel he tuned to, there was only the eternal hissing of static.
He walked to the desk and pressed the play button on the boombox; the power light came on, but there was no music from the speakers, only a faint electrical hum that quickly vanished into absolute silence.
All connections were severed.
This world, this inverted, rotting Hawkins, had once again completely isolated him.
Will stood in the center of the room, looking around.
He couldn't stay here; he needed to get out.
He needed to find another way out, another connection point, other... people.
He couldn't help but think of the boy he had met three years ago—Andy.
If he was in this world too, then maybe he could use his superpowers to get him out of here...
Will slung the empty shotgun over his back and walked out of the room, out of the house, and back into that dead forest.
Hawkins in the Upside Down was even creepier than the forest.
The streets were still there, the houses were still there, even the shop signs remained, but everything was covered in that black organic matter.
Some houses were completely encased, like giant, pulsating cocoons; others were only partially covered, revealing the familiar architectural structures beneath, creating a grotesque contrast.
Will walked aimlessly, his eyes scanning his surroundings warily.
He tried to stay in the middle of the street, away from the shadows of the buildings; those shadows seemed to have actual substance and depth here, occasionally writhing as if they were alive.
Then, he heard it.
A scream.
A woman's scream, sharp and brief, coming from several blocks away.
In the silence of the Upside Down, the sound was exceptionally clear.
Will stopped in his tracks, his heart leaping.
Should he go check it out?
In Dungeons & Dragons, when the party hears a cry for help in the distance, they always have to make a choice.
Do they go help, or avoid potential danger?
As the Dungeon Master, Mike often set up moral dilemmas like this.
And Mike always said: "If we don't help someone in trouble, who will?"
But this wasn't a D&D game, and Will didn't have a party now; he only had himself.
But that scream... it was a human voice.
In this world where there was only himself and the monsters, it was the first human voice he'd heard.
He hesitated for a few seconds.
Then Will took a deep breath and gripped the shotgun. Even though it had no shells, it at least gave him some psychological comfort.
He began to run toward the direction of the scream.
The closer he got, the more sounds he could hear.
Not just the scream, but shouts—intermittent, muffled shouts, as if someone was calling a name.
"Nan... cy..."
"Nancy... where are you..."
"Nancy!"
Will's heart sank. Nancy? Nancy Wheeler? Mike's sister? Why would she be here? Had she also...
He didn't have time to think. He'd already reached a street corner, and the screams were coming from just around it.
Will slowed down, pressed his back against the wall, and cautiously peeked around.
Then, he froze.
At the same time, several blocks away, in the Upside Down version of Steve Harrington's house.
Andy jolted awake from a deep sleep.
He wasn't woken by a nightmare, or by telepathy, or even by the eerie noises of this world.
He was woken by a real, clear, and close scream.
How close?
Just a wall away.
Andy was instantly alert, springing up from the corner, his psychic power instinctively expanding like radar to scan his surroundings.
No tentacles, no monsters—at least not in this room. But there was movement coming from the direction of that large, dried-up pool next door.
Human movement.
And... something else.
Andy cautiously stepped out of the room, walked through the hallway where gray-white matter floated, and reached the glass door leading to the pool.
He pushed the door open and stepped out.
The sight of the pool made him frown.
In the real world, Steve's pool was one of the most luxurious in the neighborhood: a huge rectangle with bright blue tiles, water always kept crystal clear, and in the summer, it was always packed with teenagers at parties.
But here, the pool was dried up.
Thick, black-red slime, like semi-coagulated blood, almost filled the entire bottom of the pool.
Dozens of fleshy tentacles sprouted from the slime, varying in thickness—some like fingers, some like arms—lying quietly on the ground like predatory plants.
Undisguised disgust appeared on Andy's face. He'd seen this kind of thing in the forest and in every corner of this world.
They acted like the "nervous system" of the Upside Down, sensing any presence that didn't belong here, then attempting to purge, absorb, or assimilate it.
He carefully approached the edge of the pool, avoiding stepping on those root-like things on the ground that were also writhing.
Every step was on solid ground, confirming there were no traps or tentacles that would suddenly sprout from beneath the earth.
Then, he saw her.
On the other side of the pool, near the deep end, there was someone.
A woman—or a girl, probably in her teens—curled up at the edge of the pool, her back against the tiled wall.
Her clothes were torn and stained with dark red slime.
There were scratches on her face, her hair was a mess, and her eyes were wide with terror, staring at the center of the pool.
And in the center of the pool, something larger was rising.
Andy recognized it. This Demogorgon was even bigger than the one he'd encountered in the forest.
The girl saw Andy too, her eyes instantly widening even further. She reached out a hand—not for help, but as a warning—pointing behind Andy.
Andy didn't even turn around. His psychic power had already sensed it: another tentacle burrowing out from the ground behind him, like a predatory snake, coiling toward his ankle.
He lightly stepped aside, and the tentacle brushed past his pant leg, hitting nothing but air.
At the same time, with a flick of his mind, his psychic power acted like an invisible blade, severing the tentacle at its base.
The severed tentacle squirmed on the ground, spraying black liquid, then quickly withered and turned to ash.
The entire process was so fast it was almost a blur.
Across the pool, Barbara's mouth hung open, shocked into silence.
Andy didn't stop. His attention returned to the Demogorgon in the center of the pool. The thing had fully stood up and was now moving toward Barbara.
Barbara tried to back away, but the pool wall was behind her—there was nowhere to go.
Her hands fumbled around, trying to find something to use as a weapon, but she only touched smooth tiles.
The Demogorgon accelerated, its petals fully opening to reveal layers upon layers of rotating teeth, like a meat grinder made of flesh and bone, snapping toward Barbara.
Andy's gaze turned cold.
He remembered how this kind of monster had dragged him into this hellhole in the forest.
He remembered these days of hiding and running in this world, constantly fighting, constantly being drained.
He thought of Eleven. He should have found her by now, should have already taken her away from Hawkins, away from the Lab's pursuit.
Anger—a suppressed rage—erupted at this moment.
He didn't use complex psychic techniques, didn't try to control or influence. It was just the simplest, most brutal release of power.
A flick of his head.
Not a physical turn of the head, but a focusing and projection of psychic power, like slamming an invisible sledgehammer into the target.
Bang!
Accompanied by a dull thud, the center of the Demogorgon's body, just below the largest "petal," suddenly caved in as if struck by an invisible battering ram.
Its movement came to a screeching halt, its entire body tilting backward, nearly toppling over.
The Demogorgon let out a shriek—a sound that wasn't like an animal, but more like a mix of twisting metal and shattering glass.
It turned toward Andy, all its petals aimed at him, its layers of teeth rotating and grinding frantically.
But it didn't attack.
It hesitated.
Andy could feel its "consciousness"—if it could even be called that.
It wasn't thought or emotion, but a primal, instinctive calculation.
In the Demogorgon's simple perception, Andy was no longer prey, but a predator. A higher-level, more dangerous predator.
A few seconds of standoff.
Then, the Demogorgon made its decision.
It retreated. Not a slow retreat, but a rapid scramble out of the pool, then it completely vanished into the forest.
Andy gave a cold snort and withdrew his psychic power.
His nose began to bleed again. He raised his hand to wipe it away, the movement as practiced as brushing his teeth every morning.
Then, he turned toward Barbara.
The girl was still curled by the pool, her eyes darting between Andy and the pool, her expression shifting from terror to confusion, and then to unbelievable shock.
Andy was sizing her up too: mid-teens, clutching glasses with cracked lenses, looked like the studious type, but her clothes were torn and she was injured.
There was something in her eyes that Andy was very familiar with.
It was the look of someone whose sanity was on the brink of collapse after seeing too many incomprehensible things.
"Hello, I'm Barbara," the girl finally spoke, her voice dry with tension. "What... what was that thing just now? How... how did you do that?"
Andy didn't answer immediately. His alertness remained high.
In this world, besides the people from the Lab, there shouldn't be anyone else.
How did Barbara get in? Was she really human? Or was she another trap of this world, another monster imitating a human?
"My name is Andy."
He spoke slowly, while his psychic power began to extend like an invisible tentacle, attempting to probe the surface of Barbara's consciousness. "How did you end up here?"
Barbara felt something—not a physical touch, but a sensation of being watched, deeper than sight, as if someone were rummaging through her brain.
She swallowed nervously. "I, I don't know how I got here either."
She said, her voice still trembling. "I was with a friend... and then... then I went to the poolside to get some air, and then... something grabbed me. When I woke up, I was here."
"This place looks a lot like where I was before, but... the place I was at before shouldn't have been so... dark?"
She looked around at the eerie tentacles, the dark red sky, and the floating gray-white matter, unable to suppress a shiver.
Andy listened, his psychic power continuing to investigate.
There were no obvious signs of lying, none of the cold detachment of Lab personnel who were trained to be unfazed by supernatural phenomena.
Barbara's thoughts were chaotic and fearful, full of questions and confusion, like a true accidental intruder.
But Andy still wasn't completely at ease. Just as he was preparing to delve deeper into Barbara's core memories, another voice came from behind him.
"Hello! I finally found other people. You..."
Andy spun around instantly, his psychic power like an unsheathed sword, locking onto the source of the voice.
A boy stood at the pool entrance, carrying a shotgun, his clothes torn and his face covered in dust, but his eyes were bright, filled with pure, undisguised joy.
When Andy turned around to face the boy, the boy's eyes suddenly went wide.
"Andy?" Will's voice rose in surprise. "Is that you? Andy?"
Andy froze. He definitely recognized this boy.
Three years ago, in Mike's basement, four boys had surrounded him with questions.
One of them was quiet and shy, always hiding behind the others, but his eyes were kind, not filled with curiosity or suspicion like the others.
Will Byers.
At the same time, Barbara also recognized Will: "Will?"
"Will?" Andy wondered why he was here.
"Barbara?" Will was shocked that this close friend of Mike's sister would be here.
"Oh, you guys know each other?" Based on his trust in Will, Andy withdrew his psychic probe.
"So..."
"How are you here?"
The three of them spoke almost simultaneously, their voices overlapping, filled with questions, shock, and a sliver of rare, faint, but real hope in this desperate world.
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