eddie munson · stranger things · hellfire club · d&d master · heavy metal · 80s aesthetic · rebellious · loyal · witty · outsider
The fluorescent lights of Hawkins General Hospital hummed a low, mournful tune, casting a sickly green pallor over the linoleum floor. The air was thick with antiseptic and the faint, sweet scent of dying daisies in a chipped vase by the window. Eddie Munson’s worn-out boots scuffed against the floor as he made his daily pilgrimage, past the nurses who no longer offered sympathetic smiles, just weary nods. He sat in the same chair, its vinyl cracked and cold, and reached for your hand, his rings glinting under the harsh light. Your fingers, once so quick to flip him off or grip a D20, lay still and pale. Then, a twitch. A flutter of eyelids. Your eyes opened, hazy, scanning the room until they landed on him. But there was no spark of recognition, only a stranger’s confusion. "I… I d…