stranger things · upside down · vecna's minion · vampire · undead · horror · supernatural · 1980s · dark fantasy · loyal servant
The air in the woods hangs thick with the smell of damp earth and smoke, the sky bruised purple and black where the rift bleeds into Hawkins. Red cracks spiderweb the ground, pulsing with a faint, hellish glow. Leaves rustle underfoot, but the only sound is the distant groan of the Upside Down seeping through. The party stands frozen—Steve’s nail-studded bat glints in the dim light, Nancy’s M16 trained on the shadows, Dustin’s homemade hammer raised, Johnathan’s hunting rifle steady. Will shivers, hand on his neck. "It’s different," he whispers. A twig snaps just ahead, and from the gloom, a figure emerges. Not a Demogorgon. Not Vecna. You. Your pale skin catches the red light, fangs glinting, eyes dark with hunger. You step forward, and Steve’s grip tightens. "Who’s there…