stranger-writer

[stranger-writer]

A Nightmare in Hawkins

Summary: Eddie Munson has become an infamous town legend of Hawkins since the events that transpired in 1986. Whether it’s to scare children or used as a creepy Halloween ghost story, everyone knows his name and the terrifying mark it has left behind. Recently, you find yourself having consistent nightmares about him, but these just aren’t any ordinary night terrors. He’s haunting you in your sleep which starts to bleed into the waking hours of the day. Can you stop him? Or better yet, is Eddie actually the monster everyone claims he is?

Warnings: blood, scary nightmares and “hallucinations”, cursing, biting, 18+, mentions of sexual themes, possessive eddie

Of course this is heavily inspired by the classic, A Nightmare on Elm Street! Hope you all enjoy it! Reblogs and comments are much appreciated!🖤

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1, 2 Eddie’s coming for you…

You were there again. The sky that same hue of red and blue, the sound of lightning taking its violent strike, and the snow-like particles dancing in the air that you began to recognize all too well.

The dreams were always taking place in this strange, unknown place, except tonight, you’re standing right on the concrete pathway staring straight ahead at your house. However, this is nothing like home.

Slithery vines are wrapped around its entirety to the point where you couldn’t tell where one started and one ended. They were right by your scuffed up sneakers too, teasingly moving as if waiting for you to make one wrong step. One wrong move. The windows were boarded up, the beautiful flowers your mother planted are now sitting decayed and lifeless. Here, your house is a corpse that’s rotting from the inside out.

The front stained glass door begins to open with an obnoxious creak that’s similar to nails on a chalkboard.

Your heart begins to pound in your chest. You close your eyes, trying something different that can maybe make you snap out of it and wake up.

“This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real…” you whisper the mantra over and over in hopes that this will work.

Instead, you hear that sinister chuckle you have gotten quite familiar with. Your palms begin to sweat and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

“You would be such a good little housewife sweetheart, why don’t you come on in and show me.”

His tone is anything but inviting and even though you can’t see him, you can definitely feel him. It’s as if he’s talking to you through your mind and the way your body reacts is by his doing.

“Please…just stop this,” you beg and snap your eyes shut tightly while dropping your head down.

“You’re right, a little housewife doesn’t entirely suit you, does it? You know what I think the perfect fit is?”

You don’t give into his daunting torment and malice as you keep your head hung low.

“Being my pretty. Obedient. Puppet.”

Your head abruptly yanks straight up, as if a string is attached and pulling it. Your forearms do the same, and your legs begin to shakily move, one foot in front of the other. He’s forcing you to walk into the house.

Sobbing, you scream for him to stop or show you any kind of mercy. The tears run rapidly down your flushed, red cheeks. Your body comes to a halt as it approaches the front door. One more step and you would be inside.

You cannot see a thing. It’s like staring into complete and utter darkness, which makes you all the more terrified.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” you cry out wherever he is. “Please!” Your cries and pleads are music to his ears, but that’s the only defense you have.

“You want to know what I want?” He asks, but this time, his voice isn’t in your head, but instead you can feel the coolness of his breath as if he’s talking directly in front of you.

You can’t fully see him, but if you squint you can just see the outline of his silhouette.

“I want to hear you scream.”

A force pushes you into the void that’s inside your “house” and you wake up to the feeling like you do when you fall from a one hundred story building.

Your stomach lurches for a moment before your eyes snap open and you jolt awake. The window shows it’s still night time as the fall breeze makes the trees outside sway gently back and forth. Your pillow is soaked from the sweat that accumulated on your neck.

You sit up and tuck your knees into your chest, resting your head on top of them. It was only a dream. Just like all the others. But why do you still feel him, like he’s lingering in the darkness, just waiting to drag you back down to whatever that hell is with him?

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“You okay sweetie? Those dark circles make you lookin’ like you're a part of the Addams family,” Tatum observes on your routine walk to school. “Starting your costume a little early?” She smirks as she nudges your shoulder with a playful bump.

You give her a joking eye roll. “Ha-ha, very funny.”

The two of you continue to walk in comfortable silence before you decide to finally bring up the topic of conversation you have been dreading.

“Hey, have you ever had the same kind of dream occur more than once?”

“No, can’t say that I have. Why, have you?” She quirks an eyebrow up and gives you a quizzical glance over.

“It’s just, I’ve been-“

You’re interrupted when Jason and Randy jump out of the bushes, scaring you and Tatum half to death. The shriek you let out was embarrassing, but if they only knew how you have been spending the last couple of nights, they would understand.

“You assholes!” Tatum giggles while running a hand through her hair. Randy walks backwards, facing the group while Jason wraps his arm around your shoulder. You aren’t dating, but he still attempts to flirt in hopes you change your mind.

“What’s the topic of the morning today ladies?” Randy asks with that usual look of mischief across his face. “How sexy Brad Mackenzie looks in his compression pants or the size of Ashley Donald’s ass?” He wiggles his eyebrows in amusement.

“Do you guys know much about the story of Eddie Munson?” You ask. There’s an awkward silence that lingers. Shit. Before you’re about to retract, Randy and Jason start laughing hysterically.

“Hawkins’ ultimate Boogeyman!” Randy bellows before continuing. “You’re telling me you’ve never heard the stories?”

“I mean I know the gist I guess, but c’mon, I’m sure some stuff is made up.”

Randy lets out a breathy chuckle. “I’ll tell you what isn’t made up. They found that babe Chrissy Cunningham mutilated. I’m talkin’ every limb snapped in half, blood seeping out of her eyeballs, and her face was completely distorted. When her mom had to identify the body, she was so fucking traumatized they had to send her to Pennhurst for a month.”

You shudder at the image, trying to erase it from your mind, which only makes it worse.

“Oh please, Chrissy was the girl who acted all sweet and innocent, but was secretly a huge slut. I think the rumours are true and she was fucking the freak,” Tatum adds while checking out her nails.

You grimace and flinch slightly at her very rude and insensitive words.

“It’s always the innocent ones,” Randy winks before hoisting Tatum up and carrying her over his shoulder. She begins to laugh as he runs with her down the sidewalk, leaving you and Jason in the dust.

“So what ever happened to him, Eddie?” You ask, gripping your books tightly to your chest.

“After that night, he disappeared and no one has seen him since. Apparently the townspeople rallied together to hunt him down, but it was unsuccessful.”

You hum in response, staring ahead at the school that’s slowly approaching into view.

“Legend says every year on Halloween he comes back to Hawkins to terrorize the town and take another girl’s soul just like he did that night.”

You stare up at him, a look of worry etched across your delicate features.

“Don’t worry Y/N, if you ask me it’s all a bunch of bull. It’s just some made up stories to scare kids and entertain the people in this boring ass town.”

Biting down on your bottom lip nervously, you ask, “Well what if it isn’t?”

His eyes flash with the slightest concern for just a second before he shrugs and displays a smug grin. “You got me here to protect you.”

You realized in that moment that one of two things are true. Either you are going absolutely mad or you are Eddie Munson’s next victim. And the most horrifying part is you couldn’t tell which one was worse.

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Sitting in the dingy bathroom stall of Hawkins High was not exactly how you pictured you’d start your morning. Your knee was bouncing with anxiety as you tried to process everything over and over again in your head. What do you do? Who do you tell? How do you make it stop?

You hear someone come in and decide to pause the merry go round of thoughts that are starting to consume you. Right before you’re about to grab your book bag and head out, you crane your head a little lower and notice the bulky combat boots walking towards your stall. The heavy thump of the shoes and the clinking sound of a chain makes you get that feeling again. No, you thought to yourself. You’re not dreaming.

Whoever it is comes to a halt and stops right in front of your stall. You gulp, the nerves consuming your throat as your shaky hand reaches out to unlock the door.

You yank the door open in such haste that you jump at your own actions before taking a sigh of relief as you see who is before you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Piper,” you apologize with a smile, holding your hand over your heart as a means of comfort.

“Somebody’s jumpy today,” she remarks, which between that and her appearance makes you feel like something is off with her. You can’t put your finger on it, but her stare is vacant when usually she’s super animated. Her attire is on the edgier side too than the usual bright colors she always sports, and her hair is wavy today which it never is.

You give her a closed mouth smile as you begin to swing your bag over your shoulder. You try to politely move past her, but she doesn’t make it easy for you as she remains standing in the same spot, still nothing behind those big brown eyes. Odd. You could have sworn she had green eyes.

Once you slither past her, you’re almost to the door as you grab the handle, but what she says stops you in your tracks.

“It’s almost time,” she grins, but again, this is not her usual, warm smile. It in fact is creepy and quite unnerving.

“Almost time? Almost time for what?”

Your heart drops into your stomach as you wait for her answer.

“For Halloween of course,” She smirks like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but there’s still something about her tone that’s unsettling.

“Oh yeah….right. I uh- I better get going, I’m already 15 minutes late for Simmons’ class.”

“He’s coming for you,” she mutters close to a whisper. Your eyebrows furrow as you give her no response and instead run out of the door as fast as you can muster.

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The encounter with Piper had you feeling immense paranoia the remainder of the day. The thought crossed your mind to just ditch the rest of today, but you were petrified to be home. Alone.

Usually you hated P.E., but given your current circumstances, it’s your favorite since it’s impossible to close your eyes and pass out.

Running the mile always resulted in you, Tatum, and your other girlfriends simply walking it. Coach Ann always blew the whistle at you all, yelling, “what do you think this is ladies? Book club? Get moving!”

Once you get back to the locker room, you decide to take a quick shower. Tatum wanted you to go to the mall with her after school and you didn’t want to feel sweaty and gross.

You’re happy that all the showers are empty. For some reason, being completely naked in front of the other girls always made you feel awkward.

Stripping off your green “Hawkins P.E.” T-shirt and shorts, you stuff them in your bag before unclasping your bra and doing the same. You quickly pull down your thong and throw that in as well before swiftly entering the shower.

You turn the nozzle to the hottest setting and the burn feels good on your tense muscles. Steam starts to fill the small space, but you don’t mind, it’s the most relaxed you’ve felt all day.

Releasing a deep sigh of relief, you close your eyes and position your face directly into the streaming downpour of water. Suddenly though, you get that feeling again, the slight shiver that shoots up your neck.

When you open your eyes, you're back in that place. You’re still in the shower in the girls locker room, but everything looks decayed and full of grime. Those same slimey, breathing vines are intertwined together along the wall and the color in the room has shifted to a tinge of blue.

In a haste, you yank the towel that’s draped over the rod and speedily wrap it around your body.

“No need to get all modest now sweetheart, I was quite enjoying the show.” Eddie’s voice echoes throughout the locker room.

The grip on your towel is so tight, you can feel the digging of your nails into your palms through the material.

“Fuck you,” you mutter, shocked at your own words that spilled from your lips.

“What filthy words from such a shy, inexperienced girl like yourself.”

He’s taunting you, and you have no idea how, but he knows you’ve never had sex with anyone yet and worse of all, it’s like he knows it’s one of your biggest insecurities.

You try to very quietly pad over to reach the lockers, each step leaving a wet footprint behind. Still gripping the towel tightly to your chest, you can feel the water dripping down your arms and legs.

“Saving yourself for true love,” he declares with a chuckle. “How adorable. But I can sense it. You’re just aching to be touched, aren’t you?”

The room is so eerily quiet that the only sounds you can hear are the small droplets of water coming out of the shower head with a soft plink. From the volume of his voice, you know he’s near.

“I bet you think about it… How do you want your first time to be? All soft and sweet? Because your little friend Jason…well…let’s just say his dreams about fucking you are quite…entertaining.”

Suddenly hearing his daunting footsteps as you see his shadow near the front row of lockers, you patter in a hurry down to the last row to hide. Your back is against the cool metal as you are tempted to take a peek to see around the corner.

“I wish you could see the way he pictures it… with you on your stomach…eyes rolled to the back of your head in pure bliss while he has his way with you. You’re biting down on your lip to suppress your soft, little moans, which makes him fuck you harder…faster…doesn’t that sound nice? Being fucked like a good little slut?”

“Go to hell!” Your voice is trembling and unsteady, but there’s no use of trying to be quiet anymore, he will find you one way or another.

His sinister chortle echos and you can hear his heavy boots stepping closer.

“Awh sweetheart, you didn’t notice? We’re already there.”

You no longer hear his approaching footsteps anymore. Your breathing is intense as you sneak a look to your right and peek around the corner. With a shaky breath you risk a glance, but you don’t see him.

That is, until he catches you off guard from your left and briskly pins you against the lockers.

This is the most face to face you have ever been with him out of all the dreams you’ve had. His eyes are so dark, they’re close to black. The red and purple veins around his eyes are translucent through his icy pale skin. As if this close contact isn’t horrifying enough, you spot them….his fangs.

The grip he has around your neck isn’t hard enough to choke you, but it’s tight enough to hold you in place. He takes a big inhale through his nose before his thirsty eyes bore into yours.

“Too bad Jason will never get to know what that sweet cunt of yours feels like because you belong to me.”

“Please,” you whimper, having a terrible time tearing away from his intense gaze.

“Please…” Eddie mocks with a sarcastic frown. “I think there’s nothing more I love than hearing you beg.

With the grip still on your neck, he takes his other hand to play and twirl with the long strands of your hair.

“You hear that?” He asks, tucking a tendril behind your ear. Your brows furrow before you realize what he’s referring to. It's the sounds of a clock ticking before the chime strikes in the most haunting way.

“It’s almost time,” he grins from ear to ear as you begin to cry. He swipes your tear away with his thumb, and as he brings it to his lips, you see it. It’s blood. You’re not crying tears, but blood.

“Mmmm,” his deep voice hums. “Just how I imagined you’d taste.”

“Leave me alone!” You shout before hearing his maniacal laughter echo through your head in a way that consumes your entire mind. The blood from your eyes is oozing out in streams down your face, dripping onto the floor. Your shrieks and cries are piercing before you’re being violently shaken awake.

“Y/N, wake up! Wake up! Jesus Christ, wake up!” Tatum is kneeling before you, the sound of the shower running is the first thing you hear. You're crouched in the corner, knees tucked to your chest while your hands cover your ears, like you were trying to block out the sound of Eddie’s hysteria.

“What the hell happened? Are you okay?” Tatum asks, well, more like shouts as she takes in your pathetic form. She turns the water off and grabs the towel before wrapping it around your shoulders.

“I’m fine, I-I felt light headed while I was taking a shower and decided to sit down for a minute and I must have passed out for a sec. I’m okay though,” you try to assure, shocked at the believable lie you were quick to muster up on the spot.

“C’mon, let’s get you dressed,” Taum grabs your bag and goes to hand you your undergarments first. She hands your bra over to you and has your skirt and blouse in one hand while the other is digging for something else.

“Did you go commando today?” Tatum asks.

“What? No?”

You grab your bag from her and search through it yourself to not find them in there. You distinctly remember having them on and taking them off right before…..

“Huh, that’s weird,” you utter, not even having a plausible excuse to tell her even though you know exactly who took them.

“Why don’t you let me take you to the doctor or something? Don't you want to make sure your head and everything is okay?”

“Tatum, I’m fine, I promise. I didn’t eat lunch today and the heat and the exercise on an empty stomach got to me.”

She’s not a hundred percent convinced, but she gives you a nod. “Okay. I’ll wait outside while you get changed.” She’s about to get up before your small voice stops her.

“Can you stay here with me while I get dressed?”

You know that she knows something is up, but she decides to not press or ask any more questions. She turns around, giving you some privacy as you begin to throw your clothes on rapidly. There’s nothing more you wanted than to get out of this locker room immediately.

Once you're out in the hallway, you turn to Tatum.

“You and Natalie go on to the mall without me, I’m going to go home and get some rest.”

“Okay, but you promise you’ll call me later?”

You give her a swift nod and a smile before parting ways. As soon as you see her turn the corner, you make a bee line for the library.

Dropping your belongings onto the floor, you plop into the swivel chair, and begin your research.

Like some sort of mad woman, you submerge yourself for almost an hour into every article and interview you can find regarding that fateful night in March of 1986. You almost give up on your search before you scroll down a bit more.

Dustin Henderson.

From what you put together, he was one of the few who was outspoken about Eddie being innocent, which in turn infuriated the town for obvious reasons.

You race to one of the shelves and grab the yearbook from ‘86, frantically turning the pages until you get to the “clubs” section. There, you see them, the infamous group called “The Hellfire Club.” Just based on the photo, it seems like a group of innocent, goofy boys. You ignore the vandalism on the page which accumulated over time. “Burn in hell” is sprawled above the photo, as well as a pentagram and there’s devil horns drawn on top of Eddie’s head.

Maybe if you can talk to this Dustin Henderson, he may have some answers that can help you. At this point, it’s your only hope. You couldn’t go to your family, your friends, or even the police without them thinking you're going clinically insane. A total stranger is your best option at this point.

Tucking the sheet of paper you printed at the library in your pocket, you begin your walk home. This is usually your favorite time of year. The crisp weather, the leaves, everyone’s homes decorated with jack-o’-lanterns and makeshift ghosts.

You pass by a group of little girls jumping rope, but you halt when you realize the nursery rhyme they are singing.

“1, 2 Eddie’s coming for you. Three, four, better lock your door..”

The clouds in the sky begin to darken as the wind drastically picks up, causing your hair to whip around wildly as the sound of thunder begins to rumble.

“Five, six, grab your crucifix…”

The horrifying image of him piercing through the flesh on your neck with his fangs intrudes your mind as if he’s planting the thought in there himself, making you see what he wants you to.

“Seven, eight, gonna stay up late. Nine, ten, never sleep again.”

He’s sitting on the porch swing, legs spread with one arm resting on the back of the swing. His smirk is wide as he shoots you a wink and a wave with the wiggle of his fingers. His fangs and mouth are covered with blood.

With Halloween approaching, you have little time to spare. Each day your dreams are starting to progress, and even worse, are starting to happen when you’re not even asleep. The hallucinations as well as Eddie’s power grow stronger and stronger within each passing second. You’re completely haunted by him night and day, and you can only hope that by the time you reach Dustin, it’s not too late.

[stranger-writer]

[stranger-writer]

James Wedge, The Sunday Times Magazine, October 1978

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Winona Ryder

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