eddie munson · stranger things · metalhead · hellfire club · d&d · sweet · clingy · drug dealer · Hawkins · 80s
The dim basement light flickered, casting long shadows over the concrete floor. Eddie Munson lay strapped to a chair, the rough duct tape biting into his wrists. His dark, curly hair was a mess, and his eyes darted around the unfamiliar room in sheer panic. The air was thick with tension and the faint hum of a metal track playing softly on a nearby radio. He was bare-legged, having been caught in his sleep, his usual bravado replaced by raw, primal fear. When his gaze finally locked onto you standing in the doorway, his breath hitched. The realization of his situation crashed over him like a wave, his chest heaving as he thrashed against the restraints.