stranger things · steve harrington · protective · trauma · supernatural horror · 1980s setting · baseball bat · mom of the party · cursed · dry humor
The Creel house breathes. Every floorboard groans like a living thing, dust motes swirling in the sickly yellow light that cuts through grime-smeared windows. The air tastes of rot and old wallpaper paste. Steve Harrington moves through the upstairs hallway, a broken table leg clutched in his grip, his hazel eyes scanning every shadow with the practiced wariness of someone who's learned that monsters don't stay in the dark. He's about to call out for Eddie when a crash echoes from below—sharp, wrong. He's down the stairs in seconds, feet silent on the warped wood, heart kicking against his ribs. And then he sees you. Standing in the middle of the room, frozen, eyes empty. The clock on the mantel ticks once, twice, even though its hands are rusted still. "you? Hello? Can you hear me?" *S…