thequarries

[thequarries]

ashes ashes, dust to dust (i think i found a place for us)

hi party people. i offer an olldon fic. i had to write one at some point. it is, of course, summer again. and they go swimming, sort of. and there's tension. that's it. that's the fic.

set to "capo" by ricky montgomery and 1458 words in length, all in one sitting. enjoy.

During summer break, Ollie tries not to do much at all. He gets up in the morning to deliver the mail, of course, racing Gordie the whole way, but after that he drags his bike to the lake and lies out on the shore. It’s coolest here, with the water casting a soft film over the rocks and the shade draping over the little area, and for the past few years it’s been his and his alone. 

“How did you find this?” Gordie’s voice is hushed with awe, eyes wide as he pushes his glasses further up his nose and steps through the entryway of trees. Pride sparks in Ollie’s heart and he turns his head away as a smile tilts his lips up. 

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” he says mysteriously. The answer is boredom, but he doesn’t say that. Gordie snorts at the words. 

Okay. So it’s not really just his anymore. That’s okay, though, because if there’s anyone he’s ever wanted to show this place to, it’s Gordie. He’s not going to think too hard about that. 

“This is sick,” Gordie says. He steps past Ollie, further onto the little stretch of beach, and shakes his head as he sucks in a breath. “God. How long have you been keeping this a secret, huh?” 

Ollie laughs even as something stirs in his stomach—butterflies, nerves, or maybe a flu if he convinces himself well enough. He knows that Gordie doesn’t intend it in the way he’s taking it—how could he?—but he finds his breath hitching nonetheless. If only Gordie knew the secrets that he’s kept. Keeping. 

He clears his throat. “A couple of years.” 

Gordie whistles lowly and takes another step closer to the water, turning so that Ollie can see the grin stretching across his face. The sunlight caught in the strands of his hair makes it look like he has a halo and Ollie feels his breath catch again, though for a different reason than before. “It’s amazing.” 

You’re amazing, Ollie wants to say, but he can’t force the words to pass through his lips. Damn it. 

“You coming?” Gordie asks, kicking off his shoes. They end up just in the shade, precariously close to the water, so he nudges them just a little further for good measure. 

Ollie’s eyebrows inch towards his hairline as he crosses his arms. “To do what?” 

“To get in the water, Ollie,” Gordie huffs, making a move to do just that. He rolls his eyes, a smirk poking at the corners of his lips. Ollie really needs to stop looking at his lips. “What else?” 

Ollie could think of a couple other things to do, but he’d die of embarrassment if he said any of them to Gordie’s face. Maybe he’d just evaporate. It’s possible. 

“Ski,” he says instead. “We could ski.” No, that was worse. That was definitely worse. 

Gordie blinks. “Oh. Okay.” He doesn’t say anything further, casting his gaze back to the water, and Ollie just watches him for a moment before making his way over, shaking his hair out of his face. 

“It’s nice to stargaze, too,” Ollie says, even though he has no idea why the words come out of his mouth. Gordie looks back to him, eyes twinkling behind his glasses. 

“Later?” he asks, and Ollie is helpless to resist nodding. Gordie smiles softly and turns back to the lake, wading in a couple of steps. 

“Cold?” Ollie asks, slipping off his sneakers and setting them next to Gordie’s. He pulls off his socks and stuffs them inside, wrinkling his nose at the feeling of the sand and rock mixture underneath his feet. 

“Nope,” Gordie says. He rolls up the legs of his pants and grins triumphantly, hands on his hips as he steps further into the water. “It’s nice, though. Cool.” 

Ollie nods and takes a step in, hissing a breath through his teeth as he jumps backward and nearly trips over the shore. The water is like ice. “Oh, God damn it, Gordie. ‘Cool,’ my ass.” 

Gordie shrugs. “It’s nice, once you get used to it. Get back in.” 

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

Ollie arches an eyebrow, taking a careful step away from the water. “No, I’m good. I’m not catching hypothermia today, thanks.” 

“If you catch hypothermia from dipping your toes into the lake, I think you deserve it,” Gordie laughs, the sound echoing around them. He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair, mussing it up in that way Ollie loves. Well, he always loves Gordie’s hair, so that’s not anything new, but still. It looks nice. 

Gordie takes a step towards him, a mischievous look crossing his expression, and Ollie shakes his head as he takes another step backward. “No way. Seriously, Goosey. I’m not getting in there.” 

Gordie reaches out a hand for Ollie’s, feet still firmly planted in the water. “Do you trust me?” 

Of course he does. He’s shown Gordie pieces of him that he can’t make himself share with anyone else, told him the secrets that rattle inside of his lungs when he feels like he can’t breathe. If there’s anyone in the world Ollie trusts, it’s Gordie. “You know I do.” 

“Then get in,” Gordie says. Softer, voice lower and eyes looking up at Ollie through light lashes, “You can get out if it’s still too cold.” 

He considers it, but he finds that it was never really a question at all. He’d follow Gordie off the edge of the world if he asked him to. 

“Okay,” he says, taking Gordie’s hand as he steps closer to the water again. He focuses on the warmth of his palm as he steps in, wincing at the shock to his system again. Gordie’s right, though—he gets used to the cold after a moment, letting out an involuntary sigh as he feels himself cool off. He hadn’t even known how hot he’d been, chalking it up to general discomfort. 

Gordie doesn’t say anything as Ollie closes his eyes, smiling at the sunlight dappling under his eyelids. “It’s nice.” 

“Told you,” Gordie says softly. They’re still holding hands, Ollie realizes. Since Gordie doesn’t let go, he figures that he won’t either. 

They stand like that for a couple of minutes, cooling off and relaxing in the quiet of the water’s gentle lapping and the chirping of birds. Eventually Ollie opens his eyes again, catching Gordie staring at him before his eyes dart away, a light blush climbing up his cheeks. 

“I’m cold now,” Gordie says before Ollie can do anything, letting go of his hand to climb onto the shore. Ollie tries not to miss the warmth of it before following him, plopping down on a boulder next to him and reclining in the spot of sunshine that makes its way through the branches. Neither of them say anything for a moment. 

Gordie opens his mouth to say something and Ollie turns to see him, but instead of words, a yawn passes through his lips. Ollie feels the itch to yawn echo in him but tries to push past it as he asks, “Tired?” 

Gordie shrugs. “No.” Then he yawns again, disproving his point, and presses his lips together before saying, “That was unrelated.” 

“Sure,” Ollie says, disbelief clear in his tone, but he doesn’t say anything more on the matter. Instead, in an act of bravery, he scoots closer to Gordie and drapes an arm around his shoulder. He doesn’t miss how Gordie stiffens and then relaxes into the touch. 

“What are you doing?” Gordie asks quietly. 

“Lay your head on my knees,” Ollie says in lieu of an answer. Though he can see the confused frown that crosses Gordie’s face, he abides by the request, reclining awkwardly so that his head rests in Ollie’s lap. Ollie takes in a deep breath before he begins combing his fingers through Gordie’s hair, a smile crossing his lips as the boy’s eyes flutter shut. 

“It’s okay if you fall asleep,” Ollie says after a moment, gentler than before. He continues running his fingers through Gordie’s hair as he speaks. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“‘m not gonna fall asleep,” Gordie says, slightly muffled. Ollie resists saying something to provoke an argument and merely hums. 

True to Ollie’s prediction, though Gordie shifts a little bit to get more comfortable, his breathing evens out as the minutes pass. Ollie hums something softly—some mix of The Cure or Queen or Pink Floyd—and leans backwards, closing his eyes again against the brightness of the afternoon in his secret little place. 

Their secret little place, something in him says softly, and he can’t help the smile that crosses his face at the idea. 

Yeah, Goosey. A place just for us. 

[thequarries]

REAL

The Unknown Gay Bank Robbers

Starting in 1986 two men committed a string of 26 bank robberies, amassing over half a million dollars in stolen cash during their three-year spree. Their crime spree was one of violence intertwined with a tender romance.

The two men would walk into a bank at separate times, one a few minutes after the other, the second man would pull a gun and fire a single shot into the ceiling to attract the attention of all the tellers and customers. The first man would then take charge of the situation and order everyone down on the floor, keeping them all at gunpoint while the second went to the bank teller.

After they had got the cash they came for, they would share a quick but passionate kiss, pictured above, as what police and case experts believe was a final goodbye, just in case one was killed by the police during their getaway. They would always do this, with security cameras catching the intimate moment before the two ran, often hand in hand, from the building.

The lovers were never caught, it’s believed that the two of them either died in an unrelated crime or moved on to other things as the laws surrounding bank robberies changed and sentences became longer. If anyone has any information please contact the New Jersey police or your local police department.

[thequarries]

i finally wrote another ollidon fic 🙈🙈

its angst with a happy ending so don’t worry

also, 2555 words enjoy

The bench was perfectly illuminated in the sunlight, the tree over it bending gently in the wind. The rustling of the leaves, the combination of the warm temperature surrounding the bench, and Gordie standing right in front of it was enough to make Oliver crazy. It was almost like a passage from a fanfiction in one of those Star Trek fanzines Oliver spent too much time reading.

“Gordie! Gordie!” Oliver dodged a few stray students, jogging to the bench.

The taller boy turned around, nervously fidgeting with his hands.

“What happened?” Oliver’s smile immediately faded.

Gordie wiped his hand under his nose, sniffing. It almost looked as if he had been crying.

“Nothing! Nothing,” he jumped.

Oliver squinted.

“Okay,” he broke. “Daisy asked me out on a date this weekend.” Gordie looked off into the distance, putting both of his hands in his pockets.

If Oliver hadn’t immediately shut down after Gordie mentioned the potential date, maybe he would have realized that Gordie wasn’t blushing at all (in fact, he was practically doing the opposite of blushing), that he seemed nervous, upset. Any person in their right mind would immediately notice that Gordie was not looking forward to his date.

But Oliver was too lost in his own world of jealousy. “Oh.”

“But that doesn’t matter, do you still want to go to the park?” Gordie tried looking Oliver in the eyes, but he could already tell that something set him off.

“Actually—something came up,” he lied. “See you tomorrow.”

Oliver laid on the picnic blanket underneath him, feeling the crisp warmth of the sun hitting his cheeks and the gentle breeze coming from the quarry’s water. Though his eyes were closed, he could feel his best friend, Gordie, sitting up next to him, taking in the scenery.

Gordie sighed. Oliver opened an eye.

“What’s up?”

The blanket moved as Gordie fiddled with the corners. “I don’t know what to do about Daisy.”

Oliver nodded. “Ah,” he sat himself up, resting his hands on his knees as he bent them. “Well, uhm, why don’t you tell her you need a break for a while?”

Because she thinks we’re dating, Gordie thought to himself. “That sounds a little passive-aggressive, though.”

“I guess.” Oliver’s heart sank. It was all about Daisy now—no more going to the quarry and nerding out about music, television or movies, no more talking about the latest drama at school, no more talking about their plans to run away from Hawkins. Daisy had erased all the topics of conversation.

The worst part was Daisy wasn’t all that great either. She was rude at worst and tolerable at best. She had always had an attachment to Gordie (which always made Oliver internally jealous), and up until a couple of days ago, Oliver thought that Gordie did not reciprocate affectionate feelings towards Daisy. But something had changed. Something was different. Oliver found himself struggling to read Gordie for the first time in a long time.

“She’s just, I feel like she wants a lot from me. And I like her and all,”—a stab to Ollie’s heart—“but she’s so needy all the fucking time.”

Oliver reached into his bag, wanting to focus on Gordie but not finding the strength to do so. Oliver’s jealousy made him feel like shit. He should be happy that Gordon seemed to have a romantic interest. He should be grateful that Gordie even hangs out with him, and beyond grateful that Gordie considers Oliver a friend, but Daisy was too harsh of a subject for Oliver. He wanted to block her out entirely.

In a desperate attempt to change the subject, Ollie grabbed some of the fresh peaches he had put in the front pocket of his bag. They had been picked from his family’s peach tree that morning, Oliver beaming at the sight of the first peaches of summer. After picking them, he immediately called Gordie to hang out at the quarry. “Do you want a peach?”

“Oh—uhm—the peaches are ripe?”

Oliver smiled for the first time that day. “Yep! They were ready this morning, just in time for us to hang out. Crazy, right?”

Gordie smiled.

Hanging out at the quarry was still fresh in Oliver’s mind as he biked into school that Monday. Something about soaking up all the sun and knowing Gordie was right next to him—their hands and legs accidentally touching—the sound of the water, and the slight breeze was incredibly calming to Oliver. The most perfect boy, Oliver wrote in his journal. He feels like a sunset and pure serotonin.

I need to tell him how I feel. Even writing it made Oliver nervous. He makes me too happy to not say anything. And—this Daisy thing is killing me. He needs to know how I feel.

Oliver had come to school wearing his favorite pair of jeans as well as the shirt he knew Gordie liked. Daisy wasn’t going to ruin his day today. He was too happy to let a bitch like her interrupt Oliver’s rhythm.

He waited patiently for the last bell to ring, feeling a little déjà-vu from the day he saw Gordie standing perfectly in front of the bench. But things would go differently this time—he could feel it.

Finally the bell rang. Students rushed to the halls and Oliver found himself slightly shoving people to get to the exits. He didn’t even care when he shoved Troy, a boy Oliver was incredibly terrified of, out of the way. His ‘watch it faggot’ didn’t make Oliver’s nervous for a second. All there was was Gordie.

Once outside, he booked it to the tree, dodging stray students left and right, keeping focused on the big tree a couple yards away from him. He could see Gordie, once again standing in front of the bench, as well as some other person—wearing hideous outfit of red and green (What a fucking outfit, Oliver thought. Does she think it’s Christmas?). Only one person could make that terrible of fashion choices.

“Daisy,” Oliver said. “Gordie, hello!”

Daisy turned around dramatically, her blonde ponytail almost—almost—coming undone. Which would have been a shame, since Daisy had spent about twenty minutes doing it in the bathroom that morning. “Oh—uhm—”

“Oliver!” Gordie smiled.

Daisy’s face lit up. “Right! Oliver, hi.”

He didn’t even have time to process that Daisy had forgotten his name before he blurted out what he had planned to say since the previous night. “Can we talk privately for a second?” He said, looking at Gordie.

“Actually, we were just about to get lunch,” Daisy instinctively grabbed Gordie’s arm. “Sorry.”

Gordie looked at Oliver, confusedly. “No, it’s—”

“My dad wants me home by four-thirty, so we better get going!” Her smile was infuriating. “Isn’t that right Goosey?”

Oliver’s especially good mood was fading away. Goosey.

“Uhm—”

Daisy tugged on Gordie’s arm, wrinkling his sleeve and forcing him to bend down. She used the opportunity to grab his face, slowly planting a kiss on his lips for a little too long. She pulled away, grinning at Oliver.

“You’re like best friends or something, right?” She turned her head towards Oliver. “So you can hang out, like, another time?”

Oliver was too stunned to say anything.

“Okay! Toodles.” She slipped her fingers through Gordie’s, walking him away like a dog.

Ollie would sooner jump off a cliff than knowingly let his emotions influence his decisions—but he was too angry. Maybe it was the drink in his hand (note that he was not drunk, but he wasn’t exactly sober either), maybe it was Daisy holding Gordie’s arm, or maybe it was just the warm air of the party.

He so desperately wanted to be in the perfect mindset to talk to Gordie, to be the bigger man, to be able to compose himself and be mature. But he had to talk. Or—maybe it wasn’t that he had to talk, it was more that he couldn’t go much longer without talking. The loud booming of the music only heightened his emotions, the lack of a private and quiet space making it almost impossible to cope with the intense wave he was suffocating in. Oliver took another sip of his drink and walked over to Gordie.

“Hey!” Gordie looked at Oliver. If he wasn’t so dru—tipsy, he would have seen the pure relief in his eyes, the genuine heartfelt emotions he put into his greeting.

“Can we talk for a second?” Oliver asked, stone faced.

Gordie looked down, his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose. “Is something wrong? Are you okay?”

Oliver walked outside the back door, expecting Gordie to follow him. He did.

“Did something happen? Because, if something did, I can—”

“Why the fuck are you still with her?” Oliver boldly cut him off once they were fully outside, leaning against the walls of the house that seemed to move with the music. “Why did you even come with her?”

They weren’t so much questions as they were statements, accusations, raw jealousy and anger.

“Because she’s my girlfriend?” Suddenly, Gordie’s tone became more serious and sassy. “Seriously Ollie, why do you have a problem with her anyway?”

He shook his head. “You don’t even like her. You told me yourself. Why are you still hanging out with her?”

Gordie turned around, taking a few steps. “Are we seriously still talking about Tuesday? I thought we went over that.”

Oliver recalled the memory of a drunk Gordie venting to him about how uncomfortable Daisy made him feel over the phone the night after his lunch date. Though he was drunk, he still knew exactly what he saw and exactly what Gordie said. “Drunk words are sober thoughts. You’ve been blowing me off since then. Of course I’m not over it.”

“Listen: I don’t know what you think you heard, but I’m happy with Daisy. I’m happy with her.” Gordie emphasized, almost trying to convince himself.

(“I don’t even like her or anything,” his voice rang through the line. “Like, I don’t feel anything for her romantically. If that makes sense.”

“Yeah, I get it,” Oliver twirled the cord through his fingers.

“And everytime she touches me—I want to throw up,” his words were starting to blend together.)

“Someday, you’re gonna have to shut up and kiss who you want to kiss.” Oliver tried looking Gordie dead in the eyes, knowing he probably looked foolish. “Don’t think I don’t know you’re in love with someone else.”

Gordie turned pale, the anger almost entirely leaving his body, leaving him only with fear. “How—”

Another sip down Oliver’s throat. “So who is it then? Who do you actually love?”

The anger immediately returned to Gordie. “What the fuck is your problem?”

“My problem?” He threw the cup to the ground. “My problem? My problem? This has always been about you. It always has been and it always will be, Gordie.”

He walked away, stopping about two yards away from his crush to pack in one final punch. “I hope you have a fun time seeing Child’s Play tomorrow. Maybe Daisy will take your extra ticket—unless she doesn’t like horror.”

Oliver walked off.

The next morning was rough to say the least.

Along with waking up with a headache, Oliver also had to wake up with the memories of the previous night. He had never been more angry with himself.

Most of his morning was spent in his bed, rehashing the events of last night, the hazy yelling, the tears almost spilling from his eyes as he clumsily walked. The hours melted away as Oliver drifted in and out of sleep.

He knew that Gordie wasn’t right with Daisy, and he knew it well. But he had been a Jerk. A bad friend. The thought of hurting Gordie in any way made Oliver want to die.

After it was past dinner time, Oliver heard a faint knocking on his door. He groggily wiped his eyes. “Hello?”

He heard the gentle turn of the doorknob. It was his mother. “Are you doing alright?”

“Yeah, I just need some space,” he sat up, fixing his shirt. “I just need today.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” The bed gave in under her. She made eye contact with Oliver, trying to read him. “It hurts to see you like this.”

Oliver shook his head, turning his attention to the window outside of his room. The weather was perfect, just like it had been when he was at the quarry with Gordie, but the sunset had made the scenery even more beautiful. Just thinking about the quarry made Oliver’s heartbreak. “I love him, Mom.”

His mom rubbed his back, understandingly. Oliver had never come out to her, but she had always known in the back of her head. Only a mother could notice the nuances in Ollie’s behavior around Gordie. “You should tell him that.”

“But—”

“You’re already dressed from last night,” she nodded. “Go.”

It was a race against the sunset. Oliver desperately ran, the sound of his sneakers hitting the ground almost deafening. His years of track and rugby had trained him for this moment.

As Oliver harshly turned the corner, he could see Gordie’s doorstep become more and more visible. He could almost smell the aroma of his house, see inside the windows of the front room.

Before he knew it he was climbing the steps of the front porch, too determined by the closeness of his destination. The door materialized in front of him as it seemed like his fist raised in slow motion to knock on the door.

The door swung open before he could even touch it. Gordie was standing behind it but Oliver had too much adrenaline to even read the look on Gordie’s face. He bent over as he tried to catch his breath and calm down.

“Gordie I’m…” he put his hands on his head and turned around, trying to form coherent sentences in his head. Usually he would plan out every line, every interaction he would have before he would step out of the house, but this was too important. He had to let his feelings out now. He was brought back to reality as he heard the door close behind Gordie.

The sunset was turning the sky a deep pink as Oliver turned around to face Gordie, finally calming down and taking the situation fully. “I’m really fucking sorry about last night, I was just—”

His sentence was cut off by Gordie’s lips, quickly stopping his sentence, his hands rising to cup both of Ollie’s cheeks. It didn’t take long for Ollie to kiss back as he only deepened the kiss by putting his arms around Gordie, who pulled away, breathless. He released one of his hands to open the door behind him.

“Your…?” He asked, not bothering to finish the sentence.

Gordie leaned in for another kiss. “They’re not home.”

This time, Oliver was the one that pulled away. “But…” he started, a crack in his voice. “Daisy…”

The taller boy looked in Oliver’s eyes, seeing the heartbreak in his eyes. “Fuck her. All I want is you.”

“Very dramatic,” Oliver laughed. “Okay keep kissing me please.”

“Right,” Gordie was almost out of breath as he dragged Ollie inside by the lips.

They never wanted the night to end.

[thequarries]

my Olldon first kiss fic pls enjoy ty

I suggest listening to "near death fail comp (must watch til end)" by Mom Jeans

Or literally any other sadish/emotional midwestern emo song!! Idc!! You do you!! This is your life!!

the last night of summer

Gordon hated the last nights of summer break.

There was no more daydreaming for hours on end without getting yelled at by an adult in their fifties. There was no more doodling faces whenever he was bored. And there was definitely no more hanging out with the Quarries all day. That part stung the most.

His friends were his escape from home. Their laughter drowned out the sound of his parents arguing, much like how the music from this stupid party drowned out his thoughts.

He pondered over his life so far as he sat on the floor of the hall, back leaning against the wall. Drunk teens toppled over eachother in the crowd, making Gordie more and more nervous about one of them stepping on his hands. He gripped the bottle he was holding, praying they wouldn’t come any closer to him. Gordie could have sworn one of them called him a fag, and laughed while pointing, but he was too drunk to tell. He didn't care anyways. The leader of the group led them to the living room.

As the crowd wandered away from the hall, he let his mind wander again.

Every time he just tried to think his thoughts, it would always lead him into a spiral.

It would always start with his art, and then his parents, and then Oliver Mehlberg.

Thinking about Oliver was the only good part of his spirals.

This was probably because Oliver was the only good part of his life, if you don’t consider the Quarries as a whole.

Ollie was probably the most perfect boy in the whole world.

His long blonde hair was like a big fluffy cloud, except that Gordie was able to touch it, and play with it whenever he wanted. His round glasses sat on his flawless nose, like a statue on a pedestal. All of his freckles were perfectly scattered, like someone delicately placed them there one by one, making constellations on his face. Whoever put them there must have taken days to do so.

“Hey, gayfuck,” For a moment, Gordie tensed up, preparing for someone he didn't know to be standing there, ready to throw punches at him.

Instead, it was Winnifred Florence and Murphy Drake staring at him, stupid grins spread across their faces.

“Are you drunk?” Murphy questioned, arms crossed across their chest. Gordie just shrugged in response, he had no idea how to answer a stupid question like that.

Winnie lightly jabbed Murphy in his ribcage with her elbow. He let out a small ‘ow’.

“More importantly, are you bored?” She inquired. Murphy shot her a look.

“I’ve got an even more important question,” A pause.

“Shoot it,” Gordie sighed. He was scared of what question was going to come out of his friend’s mouth. Another pause ensued. The sound of some cheesy pop song blasted into the hall.

“Do you want to kiss Mehly?”

Gordie had plenty of questions. Why would Murphy so bluntly ask that? Why did he want to know? And why did Gordie say yes?

Actually, the answer probably actually lied in the empty bottle in his hands.

The alchohol left him emotionally numb enough to admit his stupid secret, and next thing he knew, he was locked in a closet with Ollie, while Robbie, Winnie, and Murphy giggled from outside the door.

He tried his best to wiggle the door knob, but it wasn’t working. They had found a way to lock the door, leaving the pair stuck inside until they did what the three of them wanted.

“Guys, please just let us out,” He spoke through the crack of the door. No response except for the snickers of his friends.

“You look really pretty tonight,” Oliver spoke from behind Gordie. He swiftly turned around to face his friend, who was looking wide eyed and awestrucked at the taller boy, and was sitting on the floor, back leaned against the wall, much like how Gordie was in the hallway twenty minutes ago.

“And you look really handsome,” Gordie smiled. He went to sit next to his friend in the dark closet. He leaned his head on Ollie’s shoulder.

The pair had actually admitted their feelings for each other a couple of months ago, but never went any further than that. All they really did was flirt with eachother and become closer. It didn't matter to Gordie anyways.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, in the same position.

Oliver kept his eyes closed, as Gordie observed the angelic figure that was his friend, in awe at how someone could be so gorgeous.

The flashing lights from the party outside lit up the floor of the mostly empty closet, mesmerizing Gordie.

“They can’t just keep locking us up in closets and expect us to do something romantic, right?”

“Right.” Gordie agreed.

It was a pretty stupid and cliche idea his friends had.

To be fair, they all only had one collective braincell, so it made sense for them to be lacking in good ideas.

“When are they going to stop?” Oliver asked no one.

“When we finally kiss, probably.” Gordie chuckled. Oliver snorted.

“You’re probably right.” He replied, wrapping an arm around the shoulder of his friend. “I guess we’ll be stuck here forever, then.” Gordie softly laughed in response, but secretly, a pit dropped in his stomach. It felt like Oliver had just dropped a guillotine on him. He swallowed, preparing himself for his next question.

“So… you don't want to kiss me?” He asked, as innocently as possible.

“And you do?” Oliver sat up a bit, Gordie doing the same.

“I mean… yeah, I guess so.”

“Good, because I do too.”

Blood rushed to Gordie’s ears and cheeks, turning them red. He wasn’t expecting that.

The two stood up, facing eachother, still bathed in darkness. It was like a warm blanket keeping them safe. Gordie enjoyed sharing it with Oliver. It reminded him of how much he wanted to wake up next to him every day for the rest of his life. That was part of his ideal world, one that he was scared he was never going to live to see.

That’s the struggle of living in a small town like this.

Tears began to well in Gordie’s eyes as he thought of the prospect of never getting to live out his perfect life with Oliver. He hated it.

He was snapped out of his trance as he felt a warm hand touch his jawline. He blinked, a tear streaming down his face.

Wide eyed, Gordie started back at the shorter boy. Overcome with his dumb emotions, he wrapped his arms around Oliver, forcing his friend to drop his hands to his sides.

“Jesus, Goosey, I’m not going anywhere!” Oliver yelped.

“You better not,” The taller of the two boys laughed slightly, tears still streaming down his face. “I don’t want to lose you,”

“Gosh, you’re so emotional.” Oliver snorted, concern twisted onto his face. “Why don’t you just kiss me already?” Gordie unwrapped his arms from his friend, staring him up and down.

“Ar-are you sure?” He asked, his heart beating faster, and his palms sweating. Oliver rolled his eyes.

“No. I want you to just walk out of here and forget about me,” He spoke, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“I mean, the door is locked already, so I don’t think I can just walk out of here,”

“No duh, Goosey, I think that’s the point,” Oliver chuckled a bit. “Now shut up and gimme those boy lips,” He brushed his hand against the taller boy’s blotchy skin, running his fingers up to his messy hair, ruffling it as he leaned in, pecking him on his pointy nose. He let his eyes wander down to Gordie’s lips, before cupping Gordie’s face in his hands and going in for the kiss.

Gordie instinctively moved his hands down to his friend’s waste.

Friend? Stranger? Lover? It didn't matter anymore. All that mattered in the moment was that Gordie was kissing Oliver Mehlberg, like there was nothing else in the world.

He felt Oliver’s hands and fingers tangled in his hair, messing up the hours of work he spent to make it look nice for the party he didn't care about anyways.

Oliver pulled away for a moment to smile, looking away from Gordie, and towards the door. He was biting his lip as if it would stop the red tint from colouring his entire face.

“Are you embarrassed or something?” Gordie raised a brow.

“N-no!” Oliver faced back to the other boy, eyes as wide as saucers. “I-it’s just hard to believe I’m kissing you. Gordie Ayres,”

“I would be too,” Gordie joked.

“Oh, shut up!” Oliver snorted, playfully shoving Gordie.

“Make me.”

“Fine!” Oliver continued what he was doing a minute ago, which was kissing his best friend, of course. The pair tried their best to ignore the ‘Oh my god I think they’re actually doing it,’s and ‘should we let them out now?’s coming from outside the closet.

The irony of the situation finally came to Gordie’s attention. Of course his first kiss with a boy would be in a closet. Where else would it be? In an open field in front of thousands of people? No fucking way. The last thing he needed was rumours about him being queer going around on the first day of school.

Out of nowhere, there was the sound of someone banging their fist on the door.

“ARE YOU TWO ALMOST DONE IN THERE?”

“Robbie!!” Someone scolded. From the sounds of it, it was Winnie that was fed up with Robbie, while Murphy laughed their ass off.

“Damn, I’m just asking!”

Oliver and Gordie had stopped what they were doing to listen to their friends bicker. They shrugged it off and turned to look at eachother, before giving one last kiss.

After finally being let out of the closet, the pair had made their way onto the roof of the house. The sound of party music was still blasting, and could be heard from outside. The noises from the crickets chirping let them feel at ease, and warm summer air, leaving them feeling sleepy, was matched with the cool breeze.

“Oliver?” Gordie asked, breaking the silence.

“What’s up, Goosey?”

“Do you... Do you really like me?”

“No, Goose, I hate you and I wish you never walked into my life.” Oliver rolled his eyes. Gordie let out a small ‘hm’.

“So, do you love me, then?” Gordie was simply curious. He needed to know.

“Yes.” Oliver said firmly, with a slight nod of the head. It was clear he was sure of his answer, and that nothing was going to change it.

Wow

Gordie thought to himself.

Maybe the last nights of summer vacations aren’t that bad, after all.

[thequarries]

all of us quarries curating the perfect story for our characters

[thequarries]

My contribution to this meme

[thequarries]

9

chapter 8

Oliver layed on the floor, panting. He looked horrible.

Flynn watched as Gordie hugged Oliver, fullying sobbing into his shoulders. Flynn and Winnie moved closer, joining in on the hug. Murphy and Robbie soon followed, their group sobbing.

Flynn had no idea what the fuck was going on, sure, but Oliver was home. He couldn’t have been happier.

Flynn hugged tighter, almost as if Oliver would dissipate if he let go.

Oliver. It was really him. He was home.

But Flynn and the rest of the Quarries knew that this was only the beginning.

[thequarries]

8

chapter 7

“Guys! Help me!” Murphy screamed.

Gordie looked over to see Murphy’s pit to be much deeper than the one he was working on digging. He instantaneously focused his efforts on helping Murphy dig.

He felt the cold stickiness of the ground underneath him. He jumped back, surprised at the touch. It didn’t feel like how watered soil felt—this was something different. This wasn’t water. Touching the mud like ground again, he tried to completely block off every bone in his body telling him to stop digging.

Robbie leaned over to keep digging, making the tunnel deeper.

“HURRY!”

For the first time, Gordie heard Oliver’s voice as if it was next to him. It sounded like it was on the other side of a thin apartment’s walls. They were reaching him. They were breaking through.

“HELP! HELP!”

“OLIVER! I’M COMING!”

Gordie’s hand suddenly broke through as Murphy helped move the dirt on the inside—or the surface of the otherworld they were reaching into. Gordie tried to feel the ground around him, leaning more into the hole. Oliver had to be close. He had to be close.

“OLIVER!” His fingers explored the forest’s floor looking for some sign of life. “OLIVER! COME HERE!”

He moved his hand slightly to the left when he felt a cold flesh grabbing his hand. It was Oliver.

It’s dangerous to go alone! Take this.

“I’VE GOT HIM!” Gordie cried as he gripped tighter on Oliver’s hands, feeling as his body slowly started to come through the hole that Murphy and Robbie were digging. “I’VE GOT HIM! I’VE GOT HIM!”

Tears fled his vision. There was no more monster. There was no more ‘Quarries.’ There was only Oliver’s hand, slowly trying to break through the ground, to come back home, to be safe, to be warm. It was only Oliver. Oliver Oliver Oliver. Gordie’s vision became blurred from the water.

Gordie was able to move his hand on to gripping Oliver’s arm, pulling him through even further. The rift started expanding, becoming bigger as Gordie tried to bring up Oliver.

Winnie and Flynn were digging too. For a split second, Gordie let his train of thought loose: if they’re no longer running…

“IT’S HERE!” Oliver’s voice was fully audible at this point. “I CAN’T—HELP—”

“OLIVER!”

Murphy started screaming at the ground, joined by Robbie as the portal started to expand on its own, revealing more of the disgusting slimy skin that was making the dirt so wet. 

Gordie felt gravity beginning to change. He started to gain a massive headache, not from sounds of the screams, but by the energy they were causing. It caused his head to throb—he could have sworn all of his blood rushed to his skull.

Oliver was becoming more visible. His whole arm was through the hole, and then Gordie saw him. He saw Oliver.

His face was terribly beaten, cut and bruised, his lips blue from the cold and his nose bleeding. If Oliver hadn’t started screaming, Gordie would have thought he was a zombie.

It was almost as if his scream was the final push. Gordie pulled as Oliver almost seemed to fall onto the ground in front of them, closing the hole underneath him as he did.

chapter 9

[thequarries]

7

chapter 6

Murphy’s lungs hissed. “HE’S DYING! HE’S DYING!” He could almost feel the scratching against Oliver’s skin, which only terrified Murphy more. “HE’S-”

Winnie, Robbie and Flynn all screamed.

“OLIVER!” Gordie called out, “OLIVER!”

He felt the shift in the atmosphere as the temperature lowered five degrees. The monster. It was back.

Our screams were stupid. But they may have just saved Oliver. The feeling of claws against Murphy’s skin had dissipated.

But that didn’t mean Oliver was okay.

“MURPHY!” Oliver’s otherworldly voice projected in his ear. “BEHIND YOU-”

They immediately stepped to the side as they heard the air being cut where they had just stood seconds prior. He was beyond terrified at this point. He no longer had any more thoughts. Murphy ran on and was controlled by pure adrenaline.

Murphy ran towards Gordie without hesitation. Their legs moved at a million miles an hour. It was almost as if he had a new inner voice. A second gut. A sixth sense. It was right one hundred percent of the time, it had kept Murphy alive. And it terrified them.

“HEY!” Flynn’s voice echoed through the darkness. He was completely separated from the group, yelling from at least one hundred feet away. Where the hell is he? “HEY! OVER HERE!”

Murphy understood. What an incredibly wise idiot, he thought, before immediately panicking for Flynn’s safety. “FLYNN! FLYNN! NO-”

“WINNIE!” Oliver's voice was clearer now. They were even closer. “WINNIE GO! MURPHY!”

Without questioning the orders, Winnie jolted off into the woods. Years of cross country had prepared her to help around this paranormal hungry monster.

“MURPHY! FOCUS! COME!”

He shook his flashlight as he jogged a few feet closer to Robbie, standing nervously, looking around for any sign of the monster or Oliver. His head moved quickly as it zeroed in on every noise.

Gordie was on the ground, behind Robbie, screaming at the ground. “OLIVER! OLIVER!”

“HELP! BRING ME! GET ME–”

“How?” Murphy talked to the ground panickedly. “HOW?”

“DROP-” Oliver’s voice gave out. “FOCUS—BRING ME!”

Gordie, Robbie and Murphy wasted no time as they instinctively dropped their flashlights to the ground. They fell on the floor, next to Gordie, hands on the ground.

Tears streamed from Murphy’s eyes as they gripped the earth underneath him. “Oliver…” he mumbled.

He could feel Oliver underneath him. He could feel his dying state, his dirty blond hair, the blood that stained his clothes, the gravel in his voice.

Murphy started to dig, trying to feel as many details as he could about Oliver. “OLIVER!”

Gordie and Robbie joined in on the digging, Gordie crying as well as he stabbed into the ground, yelling for Oliver.

The cut on his cheek. The bites on his stomach. The blood from his palms—

“OLIVER!” Robbie started to dig faster as the ground underneath them started to give in, slowly becoming mushier the further down they dug. “OLIVER!”

That’s when Murphy’s hand hit the liquidy soil. It was disgusting, but Murphy could feel it under Oliver. He knew this was the ground that Oliver was laying on.

“OVER HERE!” Murphy could hear Winnie and Flynn’s voices playing ping pong throughout the woods.

Stay focused.

Murphy slightly gagged as the soil became more gooey. He kept digging, faster and faster, pushing through the discomfort as his hand reached though, feeling the cold air of the woods again.

chapter 8

[thequarries]

6

chapter 5

“IT’S HERE! GUYS!” His voice was about to give out. “GUYS!”

Oliver’s hand fruitlessly scraped at the ground beneath him as he tried to carry his body closer to where he heard their voices. Every movement, every touch was an unimaginable pain. But he kept moving, dragging his cut palms across the grotesque ground.

 “GORDIE!”

An echoed voice came a few feet ahead. “OLIVER? OLIVER?”

It was close. It was too close.

I have to stay still. I have to be quiet. He held his breath, making all of his limbs go limp.

“OLIVER!”

It was painful to hear his friends screaming for him. He was so close, he knew it, but—

You need to listen to me carefully, he told himself. They’re close but you need to stay still. You need to be quiet. Otherwise they won't have an Oliver to find.

He heard the painful screech of the monster close to him. It was almost as if it could smell Oliver, it knew exactly where he was. And it knew that Oliver was weak. Helpless, a pitiful animal struggling to stay awake, to stay alive. It knew that Oliver was almost dead.

Almost.

Oliver held his breath as he heard the walk surround him. He knew that one wrong move could mean the end for him.

“OLIVER!” “OLIVER!”

He eternally cursed his friends. You’re going to kill yourselves. Oliver tried to not let it affect his stealth, his concentration on staying still.

Roll a constitution save. It was always the category you had the lowest score in.

Oliver heard as the imaginary D20 rolled in his head. Fourteen—that passes, barely. Now, it’s the monster’s turn…

The snarl of it… was it sniffing?... was getting closer. Oliver’s eyes began to fill with tears. Please. Please.

Alright, it’s your turn again. Make another constitution save for me.

It’s a seven.

You lose concentration. The spell is no longer effective.

His arm slightly rolled over, breaking a leaf in the process. Oliver had never heard a louder sound.

The feet ran towards him.

Oliver screamed, knowing it was over.

chapter 7

[thequarries]

5

chapter 4

Winnie fiddled with her thumbs, becoming more and more anxious by the minute. She thought that the Quarries had just been out to find Oliver, who probably got lost in the woods, or ran away, or something like that. But instead something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

They had set out to search before the sun had set. The gravity of the situation had not hit Winnie until the sun went down and she almost had to confront the physical manifestation of the dark of the situation. They were just kids. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“I was walking, and then I turned around and everything was… different. But the same.” Robbie looked at the floor. “And then I heard whimpering, and it was Oliver, on the ground. He looked like he was going to die.”

“Where was Oliver?” Gordie asked.

“In the other place. The cold place with a pulse.”

The cold place with a pulse.

“Okay then…” Winnie tried to put the dots together, but nothing that Robbie was saying made sense. “How do we get back to this… place?”

Robbie shook his head. “I don’t know. It was there for a moment, and then it wasn’t. I don’t know how I got there and I don’t know how I left.”

With a pulse.

Winnie could almost hear Robbie’s words manifesting into the woods. Everything was alive, made of terrible rotten flesh resembling bark or trees or leaves. She bit one of her nails.

A stumble from the living woods. “Oliver?” Winnie yelled out. “Oliver, is that you?”

Murphy put a hand to Winnie’s mouth. Disgusting.

“Shhh,” Robbie said. “Then I saw this thing. This big fleshy stick with no face and claws. I don’t think it had eyes, because Oliver wasn’t hidden super well. Well, I mean—sloppily hid. I think it can only hear us.”

Her stomach dropped as she started immediately whispering. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry guys, I—”

“It’s okay,” Flynn looked over at Winnie. “You didn’t know. Robbie—how do you know this thing is here with us? In the regular world?”

“I don’t.”

The group’s heads immediately turned as they heard leaves crumpling a couple feet away.

“Guys, we should run. This isn’t safe,” Murphy was worried, more so than normal. They had given up putting on a brave face for the rest of the group. “I can just feel it. We’re not safe here.”

“Are you insane?” Gordie cut into Murphy’s words. “This is the closest we’ve been to finding Oliver. We can’t leave now.”

“Shhh.”

“Sorry—we have to keep searching. We don’t know if the monster is here for sure. We need to keep searching.”

“Gordie, do you want to end up like Oliver too?”

Winnie had enough. “Stop fighting! We’re not leaving, but being catty isn’t going to fix any of this. And Gordie’s right. We don’t know if the monster is in the real world or not. I say we keep searching. We can’t be far-”

Winnie’s speech was harshly cut off by a growl. The monster.

“Fuck!”

Robbie animatedly put his pointer finger in front of his lips. The footsteps continued around them as Winnie agilely tried to get her flashlight on the creature. It was like trying to find your way through a pitch black room.

But then Winnie saw it. Just a glimpse: the pinkish flesh. It took everything in her to not scream. Her flashlight flickered. I knew I should have changed the fucking batteries. God damn it.

The light was cut off. The kids nervously stepped back, trying to inspect their flashlights as they started to repeatedly flicker on and off, before they were stranded in total darkness with a supernatural monster. Winnie had never held onto her flashlight tighter.

“HELP!”

More shuffling from the group. Their surprise and their terror could be heard just from a simple step.

“HELP! ROBBIE! HELP!”

“OLIVER!” Gordie screamed back. “OLIVER! WHERE ARE YOU?”

“You’re gonna get us killed!” Winnie could hear Flynn's voice pierce from the darkness.

Through her ink spilled vision she heard running. It was Gordie running towards the sound of Oliver’s voice, as he hastily stomped on the ground still shouting for Oliver. Gordie’s footsteps were not the only footsteps she was hearing.

Frustrated, she hit her flashlight, desperate for any amount of illumination. “Come on! Stupid fucking-” The light flickered on.

She immediately pointed it in the direction of Gordie, seeing him come to a stop about sixty feet away. “Oliver!” He spun around.

“GORDIE!”

Winnie could have sworn the noise was coming from the same place Gordie was standing. It was only made creepier by the pale light hitting her friend, surrounded by the dark and threatening woods.

She heard the second pair of footsteps again.

“RUN!”

Grabbing onto Flynn, Winnie sprinted in Gordie’s direction, not daring to even look for the source of the other creature roaming around with them. Winnie cringed as her leg was cut by a stray branch, making her new wound warm and incredibly painful.

“GORDIE! HELP!”

The creature was getting closer. She no longer had the concentration to focus on the extra pair, but she could almost feel it’s slime dripping onto her neck.

In a desperate act, filled with adrenaline, Winnie quickly turned around trying to punch the creature in the gut. It wouldn’t be too effective, but hopefully it would stall the monster for a little longer.

“Winnie! What are you doing?!” Murphy called out.

As she swung, the monster disappeared. “What the fuck…”

“IT’S HERE! HELP!”

chapter 6

[thequarries]

4

chapter 3

No fucking way. No fucking way. No fucking way.

Robbie’s flashlight followed the red splats, investigating as what they had assumed to be Oliver’s footprints became visible again.

He could almost hear Oliver’s voice. Make an investigation check for me. DC fifteen. 

As on queue, another reddish thing appeared in sight: a pouch. Specifically Oliver’s pouch for his extra special dice, given to him by Gordie on his fourteenth birthday.

“His dice!” Robbie called out. “There’s no way he’d ever part with these.”

Murphy took the pouch, looking inside. “These dice… there’s no way he accidentally dropped these.”

It’s a sign, Robbie thought. He always kept his dice in a zipped pocket. He dropped these on purpose. I don’t like where this is headed.

The sun was starting to set. They didn’t have much time before it became dark. And Robbie knew that the darkness wasn’t going to stop them.

“If he dropped these dice, he might have left other marks.” Robbie thought aloud. “Like with his knife, or whatever the fuck else he could have used that was in his bag. Newspaper clippings. I don’t know.”

“But what if the newspapers blew away?” Winnie said. “It got pretty windy last night. I don’t think those newspapers would have stayed where he dropped them.”

“That’s right,” Gordie chimed in. “Plus, they’re way deep in his bag. His knife is always in his front pocket. He probably used that.”

Robbie was dumbfounded. He had no idea how Oliver was able to think so fastly on his feet–especially if he had been running, hurt. I guess that’s what adrenaline does to you.

He took a few steps forward, lost in thought. The woods became darker, more thick, more… living. Something was terribly off with this whole situation. A sudden chill entered his body. Nevertheless, Robbie started to inspect the tree trunks around the area.

The land became more bumpy as the trees of this section of the woods had bigger, more bulky roots. Bigger than Robbie remembered. He shook it off. Finding Oliver was more important than the geography of the forest.

The trees seemed dead, yet somehow alive–like zombies, brought back unwillingly, given a terrible heart to pump blood that the zombies didn’t even want in the first place. Everything became still as the forest seemed to become more alive the longer Robbie searched.

Looks like there’s nothing on this one.

He made his way to the next couple of trunks, not finding anything, when suddenly he saw the thin slide in the bark. It was unnatural, placed there. Placed there by Oliver.

But the slide didn’t end there. Robbie looked over, seeing the dead vein on the tree, black, grimey, with slight fluid oozing from–

Wait. 

Robbie turned around, searching for the rest of the Quarries, for any sign of the others looking for Ollie around him. But instead he saw a vast sea of dead blue, black veins, a light snow falling from the sky. He wasn’t in the woods anymore.

He immediately panicked. Where the fuck am I? He ran away from the trunk, looking for any sign of his friends. “Hello? Guys?”

The uncanny forest pushed on his echo.

“Guys?–” he quickly fell to the ground, feeling the unwelcoming thud of the shadow forest’s ground: the leaves underneath it, the sticky substance from the veins, and the harsh slice from the roots of the undead trees.

His head was throbbing, Robbie heard his heart pumping inside of his head. He pushed himself from the ground, feeling the sharp sting of his new cut on his hand. “Fuck!”

A breaking stick. Shuffling leaves.

Robbie immediately forgot about his hand and nervously looked around the woods. It was still, but he knew there was something watching him. Maybe it was the trees, maybe it was the veins. No matter what it was, Robbie knew that he was the prey and that the predator had arrived.

More noise came from his right side. Robbie turned to look.

A pale, bluish hand appeared from the leaves. It was badly bruised, half covered in blood. Robbie slowly rose up, being mindful of where he stepped to investigate.

A nat twenty!

Wow, very impressive Mr. Smith! Let me write down what you found.

Following the hand, Robbie could make out an arm, connecting to a body. It was Oliver, half covered in leaves. He couldn’t even see his face or most of his body, but Robbie knew that Oliver was going to die soon if he didn’t get any help.

“Oliver!” He hastily walked towards the body.

“Robbie?” Oliver’s hoarse voice came from the pile of leaves.

“Oliver!”

More breaking sticks. Robbie knew that couldn’t have been him.

“Shhh.”

From the corner of his eye, a black figure danced around. Robbie slowly tried to walk over to his friend, dead on the ground. The closer he got, the more blood he realized surrounded his friend.

“Robbie…” he whispered.

“Oliver! Where are we? What happened?”

“It’s here.” Oliver’s voice was somehow more faint.

Robbie tried his best to match Oliver’s volume. “Who?”

A loud cry came from behind the pair. Something otherworldly, something out for blood. To say it sounded like a bear wouldn’t do it justice. This sounded bigger than a bear. It sounded bigger than a lion. It sounded like death, like the grim reaper himself. A walking killer, a hungry beast. Something that thought of Robbie as a delicious snack. Something that wouldn’t mind eating Robbie alive.

“Run.”

Robbie turned around to see a faceless monster, a walking embryo, skinny, only flesh and bone, with long bony arms and clawed hands, covered in blood stains. It was almost human, if Robbie only got a glance that what he would have assumed it was. But this was not a human. This was the end.

Robbie immediately got to his feet, running past Oliver, solely focussing on escaping the monster. He ran the fastest he ever ran, imagining that the big creature was right behind him, reaching out to stick its sharp claws right into Robbie’s back to rip out his spinal cord–

“Robbie? Are you alright?” Flynn said as Robbie almost collided into him. “Are you okay? Did you see something?”

Robbie looked up. Everything was normal.

chapter 5

[thequarries]

3

chapter 2

Flynn closed his textbook as the last period bell rang. Freedom at last. He let out a deep breath. Now he had the weekend all to himself. And the rest of the Quarries.

Winnie picked up her books, hurrying to Flynn’s desk. “Ready to go?”

Flynn nodded. “Yeah. Oliver better not want to leave early again.”

“Oh, Oliver isn’t here today.”

“Really? I thought I saw him–”

“Nope. It’s weird. He didn’t even tell Gordie.”

“He’s probably just sick.”

“I don’t think so,” Winnie thought aloud. “But you know who is sick? Worried sick? Gordie.”

Flynn sighed. “As to be expected.”

“So, we did promise him we’ll stop by Ollie’s house on the way to the Base since it’s on the way.”

“Sure,” Flynn got up from his desk, shoving his textbook into his backpack. “We should probably start going now then.”

The rest of the Quarries situated themselves. As per usual, Robbie, Winnie and Flynn did most of the talking. However, Murphy and Gordie stayed silent. Usually they would chime in, add a joking comment, or at least laugh. But Flynn knew they were anxious.

“I bet Ollie’s fine,” Flynn turned to Gordie and Murphy, walking backwards. “He probably chose to stay home today. He’s been doing that a lot.”

Flynn could see as Gordie almost visibly bit his tongue. 

“He’ll be with us in no time. We’re only two minutes from his house.”

“I understand Gordie being worried,” Winnie added. “I don’t think he can spend more than twelve hours without talking to Oliver. And even then he has to daydream about him.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Gordie jokingly asked.

“You know what it means.”

Flynn watched as Gordie covered his face with his hand, turning visibly red. “Oooh.”

Robbie laughed. “Gordie and Ollie, sitting in a tree, k–”

“Shut up!”

“Here’s his house,” Flynn turned to face towards the estate. “Gordie, try not to freak out, but Oliver is within range.”

Flynn could almost hear Gordie’s eyeroll. 

Everyone cleared a path across the porch for Gordie to ring the doorbell. Flynn watched as he nervously hit it. He’s shaking, Flynn noticed. Oh my god. I hope he’s okay. I didn’t realize it was like that.

Seconds later, Mrs. Mehlberg answered the door. “Ollie?”

“Yeah, is he home?” Winnie asked.

“Oh Winnie! How lovely to see you.”

Mrs. Mehlberg always has her favorites.

“I knew he was with you guys. I’ve been worried all day.”

“Oh, I mean, we haven’t seen Oliver since yesterday.”

“What?” She laughed. “He’s not…?”

Flynn’s stomach dropped.

The Quarries had never seen Gordie cry. They had seen him shed a tear at a movie or when the Quarries did something for him or when he was high, but never sobbing. Until today.

Flynn couldn’t help but feel embarrassed. Hours ago he had thought that Oliver was sick at home, but he couldn’t have been more wrong. In order to distract himself, he had to resort to full damage control mode with the rest of the Quarries.

Murphy had an arm around Gordie as he silently wept on the Mehlbergs’ couch. Mrs. Mehlberg had brought over sodas and water for everyone as she also silently cried.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be like this in front of you guys,” Mrs. Mehlberg wiped a tear. “I just. What happened last night?”

Through stifled breaths, Gordie finally began to speak. “I was the last one with him last night, he–he walked me to my house and said he’d be fine walking home. I offered to let him stay over but he said no–I should have insisted–”

“Shh,” Winnie handed Gordie a tissue. “It’s not your fault.”

“We’re the ones that should be sorry,” Robbie rubbed Gordie’s back. “We shouldn’t have been so judgy about you guys wanting to leave.”

“What time did Oliver leave to walk to his house?”

“I think… around… seven twenty?”

Mrs. Mehlberg stood up, putting out her cigarette on the ashtray. “I'm going to–I’m going to go to the police office.”

“Of course,” Winnie said sympathetically.

“Please stay put here,” she said, running to the kitchen to grab her bag. “I’ll drive you all home later. Don’t leave the house.”

The Quarries nodded.

The panicked and hurried mom hastily exited the house, driving out of the driveway as soon as she started the car.

“We can’t just sit here,” Flynn said. “I know she said to stay put, but we have to do something.”

Winnie stood up. “We should at least retrace his steps from Gordie’s house. That won't take too long, right?”

Murphy looked up from comforting Gordie, slowly letting their hand fall down their back. “Guys, I don’t think that’s the best idea–”

“We can’t just leave him out there,” Gordie said, quietly. “We need to look for him.”

Robbie looked concerned. “But–”

“I’m going to look for him.” Gordie stood up, walking to get his backpack while wiping tears on his sleeve. “You guys can come if you want.”

— — —

The group nervously walked the asphalt retracing Oliver’s steps from the previous night. They had walked almost the entire distance and nothing had showed up.

Flynn was usually known for being a little scatterbrained, but now for some inexplicable reason he was dead focused on looking for any sign of Oliver. He was lagging behind most of the other Quarries, searching the sides of the street for any traces of the nerdy boy, behind nearby trees, anywhere he thought Oliver might have gone.

Nothing. They had found fucking nothing.

Gordie remained silent. Winnie bit her lip. Robbie fiddled with his shirt. But Flynn stayed focused.

“Do you think he took a shortcut through the woods?” He suggested, remembering the couple of times Oliver had led him through the thick trees into his backyard. 

The group took a harsh left into the forest, checking the ground for foot prints.

As Flynn scanned the floor, he saw plenty of leaves, sticks, mud, and…

“Guys! I got something!”

The rest of the group ran and huddled around Flynn. “Footprints. They look like his shoes, right?”

Hope. A beacon of light.

“Yes! Yes, I’m sure of it.”

The footsteps looked jagged. Oliver was obviously in a hurry.

“Guys,” Murphy stated. “I think we should search the surrounding area. Maybe Oliver threw something, or, I don’t know. We need to keep looking.”

Flynn felt like he was in the midst of a Hardy Boys novel. Something about Oliver’s disappearance felt so cartoonish, so surreal. It was like the world was slowly becoming more childish as time passed on. Oliver’s disappearance didn’t even feel real.

He pulled out his flashlight from his backpack to help him survey the ground. Nothing was coming up. Even the footprints stopped being visible a couple feet ahead. Nothing.

Wake up, Flynn thought. This is probably all just a dream. This isn’t reality. I’m going to wake up in a few moments and everything will be normal.

Then the fear started to set in.

People were going missing. Gordie had seen something in the woods last night. A curfew had been set. Something was seriously wrong here. Something was lurking in the shadows. Something that hadn’t been present since 1983.

If Oliver was gone, who was next? He could be dead right now. Oliver probably thought he was dreaming, too. He probably thought that he would wake up in his bed after running in the woods from god knows what. But instead he had gone missing. If only he took life more seriously.

Something flickered from Flynn’s flashlight. Ollie’s glasses.

“Guys!” Flynn yelled.

The glasses were broken, one of the arms bent and the lenses were cracked. They looked exactly how they did when Troy Walsh stepped on Oliver’s old pair in his freshman year.

The other Quarries hurried around Flynn, sharply stopping their breathing when they saw the ruined glasses.

Silently, Flynn walked forward, studying the ground. Eyes catching the leaves. “Uhm…”

The group followed like a herd of sheep. Looking at the ground.

Drops of brownish-red splashes dotted the forest’s floor.

Blood.

chapter 4

[thequarries]

2

chapter 1

Gordie sat down nervously.

They shouldn’t be out. The authorities explicitly said that all students are to go straight home after school. To not go around outside without adult supervision. Especially at and after dusk.

Ollie playfully nagged Gordie’s arm. “Hey, it’s alright.” It’s almost like he could read Gordie’s mind. “We’re in a big group. We’ve got each other’s backs. We’ll be fine.”

“Famous last words,” Gordie mumbled.

Oliver jogged up to the front of the group, pulling out a grey tarp from his messenger bag. “The store was selling tarps for like fifteen bucks. I don’t have that money. So we’ll have to deal with this old one I found.”

“Oooh,” Winnie chimed.

Murphy, Oliver and Robbie helped sit the tarp in place as Flynn got a blanket from their backpack. He unfolded it, gently and carefully placing it on top of the tarp’s grey area. The Quarries sat down.

“So…” Murphy started, before immediately getting cut off by Winnie.

“It’s crazy how all these kids are going missing, right?” She sounded a little too happy. “John, then Frankie, who knows who's going to be next?”

Gordie looked over at Oliver, who sat straight up.

“I know right?” Flynn responded. “I mean–I think John just ran away. He was a total dick. But he was popular.”

“I don’t know…” Winnie drifted off. “But, like, it can’t be a coincidence that they both went missing this week, right? I think the government is involved.”

Robbie laughed. “Involved how?”

“I don’t know! The government does things!”

Gordie gave a forced chuckle as he saw Oliver laugh.

“I think this will…” Oliver paused, “it will all blow over in a week. I think.”

A lie. Gordie could tell.

“Anyway!” Oliver said loudly. “Has your guy’s electricity been weird lately? We’re having power outages.”

Now it was Murphy who was dead silent.

“Not at my house,” Winnie said.

“Really? My house is also having outages,” Robbie replied. “Mostly like flickers. Not one hundred percent going out, but still, it’s annoying.”

Gordie, hearing a stick break, turned immediately to look behind them. All they managed to see was a tall, blurred figure running. Probably a deer.

“Jesus!” Flynn said, startled. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something. Always so on edge.”

“There–there was someone there–”

“Gordie. It’s nothing. I promise,” Flynn comfortingly rubbed Gordie’s arm.

Murphy perked up. “Someone?”

“I don’t know. It looked tall, like a person. But it was probably just an animal,” he said, trying to convince himself as well.

“I think I know what it is,” Robbie spoke. The group leaned in, eager for his response. “It’s yo mama.”

Winnie rolled her eyes as Flynn laughed, joined by Oliver’s more nervous laughter. Gordie and Murphy stood still.

“Guys, I think we should go,” the assured Oliver that was present a couple minutes ago had completely disappeared. He was nervous. Paranoid. His hand fidgeted as his pinkie accidentally touched Gordie’s hand.

“Yeah,” Murphy chimed in.

“Gag me with a spoon,” Winnie complained. “We literally just got here.”

Flynn and Robbie agreed at once.

“We walked all the way from Melvin’s. Can’t we just sit for a while?”

Gordie cut the silence. “But curfew–”

Oliver tried to back up Gordie. “Oh my god, I totally forgot.” A lie.

“Yeah, please guys, I’m really tired.” Murphy looked off into the woods.

“Fine,” Winnie huffed.

It wasn’t long before there was a fork in the road, separating Winnie, Flynn and Robbie from the rest of the group. 

“See you tomorrow!” Winnie waved.

“You guys are totally pussies!” Flynn yelled.

“Oh,” Oliver ran to Robbie. “I forgot to give this to you.”

Murphy and Gordie continued walking in the direction of their houses. “Something is seriously wrong here.” Murphy said.

“Yeah?”

“Can I tell you something if you promise not to call me crazy?” asked Murphy, looking at the tall boy.

“Of course.”

“Yesterday–while I was studying–my cassette player started acting all weird, and the lights were flickering, and I saw something trying to claw through the wall.”

“Like a rat?”

“No–it had these big bony arms and a pointed face, as it was like the wall was stretching with it. It was taller than me, I think, and taller than you. It was terrifying so I ran out of the house.”

Gordie remained silent.

“I’m not bullshitting you right now.”

Gordie replied, “but that’s impossible.”

Murphy fell silent. “Maybe it was a dream. But I could have sworn I saw that thing again when you thought you saw something in the woods.”

“Probably… confirmation bias. Or, your mind is playing tricks on you.” Even Gordie knew he didn’t sound convincing.

Footsteps from behind them, coming closer, closer…

“Sorry guys,” Oliver wheezed. “I promised Robbie the answers to the math worksheet.”

“It’s alright,” Gordie said, a little startled.

It was starting to get dark, the road in front of them became less and less visible.

“Well, uhm…” Oliver said.

They walked the rest of the way to Murphy’s house in silence. When it got time for them to diverge from the path, all the light blond boy said was “well, that’s my queue,” and ran into their house.

“Bye Murphy!” Oliver said before fishing through his messenger bag for his flashlight. He turned to Gordie. “It gets so dark so quick.”

“Yeah.”

Oliver’s hand slipped into Gordie’s. He immediately heated up, looking at the side of the road.

“I hope this is okay…” Oliver said nervously. He could feel Gordie nod.

Then, the dreaded walk to his front door. Gordie winced.

“Bye Goosey,” said the curly haired boy, with a tint of sadness. He let go of Gordie’s hand.

“Wait–Oliver–”

“Yeah?”

“Can you walk me down to my house?”

“It’s dangerous to go alone! Take this,” Oliver held out his hand again, as Gordie took it.

“You are such a fucking nerd.”

“I’m a cute nerd though, right?”

Gordie huffed. “Yeah, right.”

He had never been more grateful to be met with his house’s front door in his entire life. Gordie reached in his pocket, pulling out his keys as Oliver stayed a few feet behind.

“Hey, Oliver,” he multi tasked, putting the key in its slot. “It’s getting dark, do you just wanna stay over here tonight?”

Oliver sighed. “I wish. But you know how my parents are about sleepovers on school nights.”

“You could call them, I’m sure Mrs. Mehlberg would understand–”

“Seriously, Gordie. It’s okay. I’ll be okay.” Another lie.

“Alright. Please stay safe,” Gordie took Oliver’s hand with both of his.

“I will. Just for you, okay?”

“Good. Bye Mehllie.”

Oliver started walking back to the road as Gordie nervously watched him disappear into the darkness, only seeing the light of his flashlight ahead of him.

chapter 3

[thequarries]

1

prologue

The night was normal for Murphy. Just some studying, music, and procrastination. Nothing was out of the ordinary.

The cassette player from across Murphy’s bed played his favorite mix: rock, specifically Bowie, along with some other random songs mixed in for good measure. Their mix tapes were his favorite way to decompress at the end of a long day: nothing but boring, slow homework, sprinkled with some amazing tunes to help soothe the pain.

“Murphy!” It was his mom, calling out from the living room. “Come here for a second!”

They rolled their eyes, turning the knob of their bedroom door.

“Have you seen this?” she pointed at the TV. “Isn’t he in your grade?”

Murphy studied the television. It was turned on to the news, like always, talking about a new missing persons report: John Airstroth, and now Frankie Miller.

John was in Murphy’s year, but they didn’t interact at all. John was popular, a little bit of a douche bag. Even Winnie didn’t interact with him, and she interacted with everybody. I guess Winnie has standards now. However, Murphy failed to recognize Frankie. According to the broadcast, she was only two years younger than them, a freshman, but Frankie’s face escaped Murphy.

“Yeah, we never talked though.” John’s picture seemed to stare directly at Murphy.

“And now this other girl—it’s like 1983 all over again.”

“I doubt it’s like 1983. Frankie and John were close,”—a lie—“so maybe they just ran away together. Kids talk about that all time at Hawkins High.”

His mom looked at Murphy. “There’s a new curfew—I expect you to follow it. Don’t go out alone after sunset and please either call me directly after school or come straight home.”

A curfew?? What am I, seven years old? “Okay.”

“Thank you.”

Murphy turned and sprinted back to his room.

“I’m going to the grocery store!” their mom yelled out.

“Okay!”

They crawled up on their bed, fishing for the pencil they were using for their homework which was lost somewhere in the blankets. Where had it gone…

As he was looking, he became lost in thought: I wonder where John is. Is he okay? What about Frankie? And finally, the most dreaded thought: is this going to be like 1983 all over again? Whatever. It doesn’t matter. What matters is what Mrs. Kennedy is going to do to your grade if you don’t get this paper done.

The cassette came to a sudden stop, leaving the room quiet. Murphy couldn’t lie to themselves: it was a little unnerving. The stillness of the house, as he was the only one home at that point. Here he was, listening to David Bowie, when John or Frankie could be dead, in the trunk of a car within a mile’s radius of him. Whatever. Whatever whatever. Just flip the tape.

Their hands were shaking as they pressed the eject button on their cassette player, their body becoming increasingly riddled with unrest the longer the room was silent. The only sound being produced, or rather the only sound Murphy could hear, was sound that Murphy caused. They shoved the cassette into the player, going hitting play before noticing something odd about the player.

They put their ear closer to the speaker, trying to see if they were imagining it. But, horrifically, they realized they were not: a light sound of static quietly hummed on the radio, as well as the faintest sounds of someone breathing heavily. The room felt even quieter.

Murphy perked their head back up, pressing the play button. The speaker went silent, and then: music. Finally.

Sighing with relief, Murphy continued his scavenger hunt for the pencil, lost somewhere in the bed. This happens every fucking time.

Suddenly, the cylindrical shape found its way into his hand. Gotcha. 

In all this searching, Murphy hadn’t realized the fact that music had stopped again. Did he mess up the tape? Did he forget which orientation to put it in? Did–

The cassette player started blasting sound, before immediately stopping, then again and again. “There–man–ing–the–y–h–like–” the radio was almost talking. The static and breathing started to come back. The lights flickered.

Murphy slowly stepped off the bed, taking his fate in his own hands: for all he knew there could be someone under their bed, waiting for the right moment, an intruder in the house, something hiding in plain sight.

The lights started flickering more violently. His heart dropped.

As he slowly bent down to pick up the cassette player he noticed smoke coming from the back. The plastic was extremely hot. The player was totaled.

His pencil falling from the bed. A slight sound, loud enough to cause shock waves. Terrified, Murphy started to slowly turn around.

The wall. It was moving. It was contorting into something human–but something that was anything but human, with thin bony arms and an angled face and the wall–it was almost as if the wall was stretching, some sort of plastic or clay conforming to the hands. Murphy screamed as the lights slowly started to turn a sinister irony-red color, a disembodied shade of rose.

Murphy ran, heart pounding in his ears. It felt like all of the blood of his body was rushing to his head, bleeding out of his eardrums, staining his ears. But he didn’t care. He ran, all the way through the hallway, to the outside of his house. To the street past his driveway.

He watched in pure untainted terror as the house’s lights completely shut off, with loud ear piercing noises of screeching coming from inside. For the first time that night, Murphy was completely still. Solely concentrating on the house.

Another scream. The lights flickered back on. He stood, watching the windows for the skinny figure he saw before, listening for the slightest sound of anything from the house. Nothing.

Before reentering, Murphy grabbed the axe from the backyard shed. They tightened their grip around the cold wooden base, as they slowly opened the front door of their house.

Everything was untouched. Even Murphy’s room, rather than his fried cassette player. It was almost as if nothing had happened at all.

As expected, Murphy did not finish their history paper that night.

chapter 2

[thequarries]

prologue

0

“Okay guys, see you then!” Winnie waved goodbye to her friends, turning to the direction of the florist’s, the place in which she lived.

These friends were different from the Quarries. Winnie would often think of it like living a double-life: these friends were popular, they had the newest and most stylish clothes and shoes, and the girls had their bags and purses and makeup and the boys had their… whatever boy’s have. On the other hand, the Quarries were–to put it lightly–losers.

The Quarries were completely fine with that. Winnie was completely fine with that. She knew that Gordon and Murphy and Oliver and Robbie and Flynn were comfortable in the clothes that they had, where they were on the “social pyramid” of Hawkins High. They were content with who they were. And so was Winnie.

At least, Winnie thinks she is content with who she is.

As Winnie walked to the florist, down main street, she felt a gust of wind blow across her face as she realized the sky was almost completely grey. Leaves were starting to dust the ground, the trees were beginning to cry. It was slowly becoming fall. It was unnerving to her: she could have sworn the sky was just sunny, that there weren’t any clouds in the sky. But now she wasn’t so sure. It was a distrust. It was uncanny. It was a lie.

Winnie shook off the thoughts as she continued her journey. She tried looking at the different shops on main street to distract her. There was Melvin’s, the theater, Enzo’s, and she could almost see the library in the distance. But the wind was calling for Winnie. It was telling her that she could not focus, biting her nose and fingertips. The wind was yelling at her to pay attention. It was unnerving.

Winnie looked around, nervously. Her house was only a couple blocks away. Should I book it?

As she contemplated, a piece of paper carried by the wind’s currents landed by her feet. The paper was a solid white, fresh without any tears or folds. It looked as if it had just been released into the wild. Curious, Winnie picked up the sheet, studying its writing:

Missing: John Airstroth. Last seen wearing…

John Airstroth. The name sounded familiar. I wonder if I know him, she thought, before quickly adding I hope he’s okay.

And, as I’m sure you might have guessed, John Airstroth was not okay. All efforts to try and find John would be a futile attempt such as trying to erase ink from a pen.

If you would consider John’s condition to be “okay,” then you’d probably consider the Quarries’ future to be horrible.

chapter 1

[thequarries]

teehee