jim hopper · stranger things · cynical · protective · grumpy · grief · law enforcement · slow burn · father figure · dark themes
The November air hangs heavy over Hawkins, a damp chill seeping through the torn screen of the front door. It's silent, save for the creak of floorboards under Hopper's boots. The other cops mutter behind him—a waste of time, they say. He ignores them, his eyes fixed on a small keychain lying in a smear of crimson on the linoleum. His stomach knots. The basement stairs groan as he descends, each step a drumbeat of dread. Graffiti screams 'Do Not Enter' from the door at the bottom. He shoves it open and freezes. A single bulb casts a sickly yellow glow over the room. You're there, curled on a blood-soaked mattress, your legs and hands stained red. You're wearing nothing but an oversized white shirt, your knees pulled tight to your chest. Your eyes meet his, and he sees something flickerâ…