Chapter Text
The Harringtons were gone.
Steve went first, although ‘disappeared’ was a more appropriate verb. The air around him was much different to the missing persons of years prior. With them, there was hope, a chance that those gone would reappear without much incident. There had been no hope for Steve Harrington, and like Barbara Holland before him, he hadn’t been found. Not even a body. The parents packed up their shit and fled three months ago, only adding to the sense of finality. They hadn’t even bothered to put the house up for sale or maybe they had, but were too busy trying to leave they forgot to put up the sign. Who would want to buy a house associated with two open cases?
All the same, Eddie Munson knew a good spot when it became available. The people in this town treated tragedy like a curse, something to be avoided and ducked around in conversation. No one wanted to talk about Barbara disappearing except her parents, and no one would be talking about Steve unless he somehow turned up after all this time. At least, the adults wouldn’t. They echoed placating words the police department placed on their tongues, assuring provocateurs that they just ran away, and refused further interrogation. They hid from the festering wrongness that permeated the town. Anything to keep that thin film of normality alive, barely kept together under the strain of bizarre incidents and missing posters.
About a week after he’d been reported missing, the two vipers that previously made up his friend group tried to pretend there had been no break of ranks, and threw a rager at the now empty abode. Eddie wasn’t sure if that was in honor of his legacy, or in spite of it now that a new king reigned. The party had, for once, been all inclusive, though Eddie refused to show. Even then the rumors filtered back to him about what happened through deals and idle gossip. People saw things, but no, they didn’t see that, that was something else, entirely explainable. Then someone else heard something, but it turns out they were passed out on the floor. Sometimes it was old Harrington coming to check on people or Barbara sobbing by the pool. It changed from person to person, but the buzz filled the school for a day or two.
The truth in these didn't matter. People found excitement in them regardless, and, in one night, the idea of something being in that house planted itself in the youth of Hawkins. Eddie, like usual, stood outside it all. He didn't believe one way or another. However, he knew it kept most people away other than those daring to explore the creepy house, or the occasional taggers. The fancy neighborhood he lived in seemed very content to let things go on at that house as long as they didn’t have to talk about it.
Eddie wouldn’t be caught dead saying he knew anything about star basketball player Steve Harrington beyond what any student of Hawkins High could tell you. He was pretty, according to other people of course, he was a jock, he was dating the world’s most obnoxious good girl, and he held popularity with an iron grip. Steve acted like he’d been taken directly out of a cheesy teen rom-com, plopped gracelessly into reality in search of a narrative foil. Although there was no narrative here. It was just Steve and his goons Tommy and Carol. Personally, Eddie didn’t care too much for the guy; Steve and his posse had threatened to beat the shit out of him on several occasions, and had done so properly on many more. Seeing everyone around him mourn a man who'd been more feared than loved, and so soon after he'd been reported missing, had been surreal.
So with everything considered, he hadn’t felt any apprehension when he started planning to host his next D&D one shot at the house. Sure, Eddie could have it at school, and maybe three months wasn’t enough distance, but Hawkins had a certified haunted house in its vicinity. Who would he be if he didn't use it? It was dramatic! It was thematic! It was game appropriate! Eddie just had to sneak them in through the backyard, keep the lights low, and they could be there for hours without anyone noticing. Gareth, Jeff and Howard could kick up all the fuss they wanted about coming here, but they’d forget about it once they were busy rolling and arguing through a maze he’d stolen from the back of a cereal box. His own nerves would be pretty quiet once everything was set up too. Not that he was nervous. No, Eddie was fine. He could break into a dead guy’s house, it wasn’t like he was going to steal anything. If anything, he was bringing things in.
Eddie hauled himself over the fence with a plastic shopping bag, grunting as he landed in a bush, and quickly scanned around. He hadn't been back here in a long time, the last in memory being the same time Harrington stopped hosting parties. About the time Barb had gone missing.
Eddie shook the tremors out of his hands as he crossed through the empty yard toward the porch. The built in pool caught his attention briefly. It sat differently in the daylight, stripped of the sweaty bodies packed around it and the crumpled beer cans. Without them, the empty basin became a hollowed out tree trunk, lacking both class and presence. Dead leaves crowded the bottom, soggy and clumped together by the already melted snow, and formed a brown sludge that surrounded the drain and clogged the grout.
A chill swept up his spine. This had been one of the hotspots for 'ghosts’ activity. Eddie blew off the creeping nerves as they tried to rise. Not right now; he was here for a reason. He turned to sliding door and swiped his hand across the dusty glass, palm coming away grey along the edge. Beyond, the inside looked remarkably clean for something that had had at the least one party thrown in it. There was no furniture - not even the dusty impressions of where it had once been - and he spied a broken light in the nearest socket.
Perfect.
Eddie pulled at the handle inquisitively, and his eyes widened as it gave. “...huh.” He assumed they would have kept it locked. He wasn’t about to look a gift door in the handle though, and stepped through.
Dust particles hanging in the air swirled as he disturbed their peaceful drifting, and he fell into a sneezing fit. “Should clean up a bit more, Harrington.” He warbled out once his sinuses calmed. Okay, maybe he was nervous. He had a plan to combat this though. Eddie plunked the bag down onto the counter, the sides bulging with its contents as he spun around. “Okay, any ghosts or haunts in the area, make yourselves known!” He planted his hands on his hips. “I will be hosting something in your humble mansion, and if that is against your wishes, speak now or forever rest in peace.”
Silence rung out. Eddie tapped his foot as his words echo through the empty rooms. “Alright, but I’ll warn you, we get loud. You still have a chance to back out.” He still didn’t get a reply, obviously. Eddie smiled. “Have it your way then, Harrington.” Sure, he was talking to nothing, but it made him feel better. Something made it feel like he had permission.
Eddie dug into his bag and fished out a handful of trinkets. Gareth didn’t like physical puzzles, complaining that they broke the flow of the game, but Eddie always delighted in designing them. Plus, the house was practically begging to be explored. He’d be a fool not to utilize that. Eddie hummed as he walked, opening one of the cabinets. A large spiderweb stretched between the wood, snapping and fluttering down against his hand. Eddie squeaked and flinched back. “Shit- god damn-” He flicked his hand as fast as he could, whining at the sensation of the threads clinging to his skin. “Don’t you laugh at me.” Even though there was still nothing but silence and his own racing heart.
In his everyday life, Eddie had a tendency to babble. Wayne told him more than once that he would make a good radio host with the way he carried on. Really, he couldn’t help it. Running conversation kept the silence at bay and quiet had never been a comfort for Munson. It got his heart racing and his mind wandering to places he didn't like. The atmosphere of the Harrington house lent itself to tapping into his worst thoughts: those of death. So, he staved it off. He spoke to his imaginary audience. Anything to remain out of the grave of his mother and the boy slightly younger than him and the girl even younger.
It went like that for a while, tucking a cheap plastic locket into one of the cupboards, or shoving a roll of paper behind one of the hanging lights. Eddie spoke to the silence about the condition of the space, his audience taking the form of the missing Harrington to keep himself company. This Steve knew nothing about him, but was willing to listen. This Steve let him explain things. It made the expansive rooms feel less hollow. Working the space made him realize why Harrington threw all those parties. It was, to turn a phrase, quite a ghost town in here.
Eventually, he worked his way around to what he was doing, and then D&D. “You know, I’ve been DMing for a good four years.” Eddie rooted through the bag. “Course, I never thought I’d be able to do it once in a place like this. But the boys have stuck with me.” Eddie waved his hand. “And I know, I know. You have no idea what a DM is. It means dungeon master. We run the campaigns for our players.”
It was easy to imagine, tall basketball man Steve Harrington following along as he spoke, asking questions and actually delighting his responses. A Steve that wouldn't scoff at the terms or balk at the numbers; what a fantasy. Eddie knew how pathetic it sounded, but it was far from his most shameful imagining. Those were the ones he had in the middle of the night, lower inhibitions and lower palms. He shook himself out of the spiral before he could start to fall. The guy was missing - probably dead - that was an incredibly insensitive thing to think. “Sorry. For breaking in and everything.” The apology felt belated, as he was already halfway in the bowels of the house. The Steve he'd made up was understanding. “Just wanted a good hosting spot for this one, you know? We always use the school, always the same room. I wanted to do something new.”
Eddie continued on after a small lull where he let himself reconsider what he was doing. He told 'Steve' about the story line he had planned, about the twist that he wasn’t sure he wanted them to figure out before he revealed it. It gave him time to plan out for when Howard started up with his NPC flirting. There was always one he attached to, and Eddie had gotten adept at curbing the attempts. He needed backup characters to fill the roles.
The pool once again caught his attention outside the door. A wayward question soared into his head and out his mouth before he could stop it. “Hey. Is Holland with you?” Eddie frowned at himself. There would be no answers, voicing the question only brought him back to the reality of the house. No one was there. Not even Steve. Eddie talked to no one and yet here he stood, asking about an impossibility. He wasn’t one to believe in something after, but if there was, he hoped she got to rest easy. “Same thing get you? Heard a couple people say that.” Plenty of theories flew around the lunchroom. They spanned the entire spectrum, from those that believed he did run away to a series of monsters that went bump in the night. Some enterprising soul posited the theory that he’d been killed by his parents and the police helped cover it up. Eddie would love to pretend he had no say in this, but even he had a few theories about the affair. The parents were too sure about their move without the presence of a body, and the police didn't even attempt to look. It stood stark in contrast to what they’d done for Will. Eddie assumed something had happened, and the Harrington's shilled out to cover it up.
He stopped at the stairs, tracing the outlines of the overhead lights down the darkened hall. They wouldn’t be going up there, but Eddie was a curious bastard first and foremost. He started up the steps, listening to them bow and creak under his sneakers as he got to the second floor landing. Doors lined the way, the sunlight shifting below the door frames and cutting patterns across the floor. One of these had been slept in - lived in - by the king, and stepping foot seemed like some sort of desecration.
Up here, the reality that he was just Steve seemed to settle in a bit more. In this house, in one of these rooms, he had just been Steve, and that brought the floaty sense of ease crashing down against him. “...do you want me up here?” Like always, there was no response. Somewhere between entering and standing here, the Steve he talked to as a joke to ease his nerves had morphed into a person. A person letting him walk around the place even though he’d died. No one had wanted to outright admit that, not even those at school. The theories were just that: theories. Everyone could hide behind the happenstance of the missing body. Being here however made that weight of it much more palpable. “I won’t, if you don’t want me to.” Eddie slunk down the hall, scanning over the doors and trying to discern their contents from the outside. This was a house with money, and they prided themselves in making living spaces as clinical and cold as possible. Every door looked exactly the same.
Behind one of them, he heard something creak. The rational part of his brain told him it was just the house, settling as it had several times throughout his visit. But the side that took a less straightforward approach used it to get himself out of prying further, even with the lack of input from his companion. It wasn’t right even if he was a nosy asshole.
Steve was a good listener, for what it was worth. Or at least this version of him, not that Eddie needed to keep reminding himself it wasn't real, but separating it helped. He'd gotten done with the puzzles now, and turned to the area they'd be using for most of their play. He’d brought a few cushions, and made a note to get a table for them.
Eddie crumpled up the bag and shoved it into his pocket, scanning about. “Well, thank you for volunteering your space, Stevie. I shall be back tomorrow, and you can meet my club.” No way. Eddie wouldn’t breathe a word about this to them. He was a Freak, capital F, sure, but even the Hellfire club would laugh at him for talking to supposed ghosts. Eddie scanned over the empty room for a second longer before turning, disappearing out the sliding door.
The sudden warmth of the outside surprised him. When did it get so cold in there? Eddie shivered, letting the sun wash over his goosebumps before hopping down off the porch. He stopped by the fence, looking back at the house. In that silence, in that stillness, there seemed to be a life waiting there. The house became a thing rather than a place, quietly waiting for the day that people would once more spread their time out within its wall, letting the foundation and drywall lay witness to the functions they were designed for once again. Like a dog sitting at a train station for an owner long dead.
Eddie watched the house, and he knew the house watched him. "I'll be back, Harrington." He promised. God, maybe he was a freak.
-
Eddie came back the next day. He hoisted a cheap folding table over the fence and scrambled after it, praying the resulting crack and crumble of the bushes wasn’t loud enough to raise eyebrows with the neighbors. The house stood exactly the same as he’d left it. Not that Eddie thought it shouldn’t be, but who knew. Maybe those ghost stories got to him more than he'd care to admit.
He shrugged off the pervading sense of eyes, placed a small cassette player on the ground and got to work on his last minute preparations. The first odd occurrence happened then. His cassette, which he already knew was a bit worn, started to skip. It was only once or twice, so Eddie didn’t think too much of it, but really that should have been a warning. An omen, even. Instead, Eddie fiddled with it until it stopped and calculated just how many grams he'd have to push just to afford a new one.
The other’s came in through the back, just like he’d instructed them to, although they were a lot noisier than he would have hoped. They cussed and let their voices carry as they clambered over the fence and crushed the bushes. Jeff walked up to the door and peered in. “Eddie, what the hell are we doing here?” He propped his hand against the frame, taking in the tables and cushions, and the obnoxious amount of candles. The fancy set up back at school didn't travel well, but Eddie could see the space didn't need much sprucing.
“We’re having an immersive D&D session.” Eddie flourished his hands at the table and screen in front of him.
Howard appeared after him, snagged leaves still tangled in his stringy black hair. He did his own inspection. “Isn’t this… you know, not right?” Always the one to toe the line last, he let Jeff enter first before daring to get close to the door. “Two people disappeared here. And they're definitely both dead.”
Gareth brought up the rear, and stepped inside with no hesitation, taking his spot on one of the cushions. “Also it’s pretty illegal.” He gibed, already yanking out his bag of dice.
“Exactly.” Eddie crossed his arms. "When was the last time we went out of our comfort zone like this? Besides, Harrington basically lived and breathed debauchery. It’s like we’re honoring his memory." He melodramatically held his hand over his heart and sniffled like a shrinking violet before breaking into a laugh. "Come on, it’ll be fun.” He heard Howard and Jeff grumble, but they joined regardless.
All apprehensions were quashed after five minutes, and the familiar energy that took them on their journeys replaced it. The plot was simple. Some of the locals in a small town were hearing sounds - shrieking and grinding stones - from the local cemetery, and they asked the players to check out the church where they originated. Originally, he’d planned it to be a noble’s house, but once Eddie talked through it out loud, he realized out of everything that might be the insensitive bit. A church made more sense anyway.
It was a normal session. Howard got back on his usual bullshit once they got down into the catacombs of the church, talking the ear off the injured towns-person found fighting for their life. But, it was a normal session. They laughed, and they let the atmosphere of the building obscure the knowledge of its past. Through the first layer of the catacombs, Eddie stood up and ushered them all into the kitchen.
“Oh, Eddie no.” Gareth groaned and stared at the cabinets with disgust. “Not one of these.”
“Don’t be such a little shit about it.” Jeff looked around. “These things are fun.” His hand hesitated by one of the knobs, and he turned back to Eddie with a frown. “Are you sure we aren’t going to find dead rats or something, though?”
Eddie waved his hand. “I checked them all beforehand; you're safe.” He tossed his dice in the air. “Any dead rats you find will be intentional.” He laughed at Gareth's shudder. It was a simple game of hot and cold, watching them spread out and try to find the clues he’d planted.
That’s when the second thing went wrong. Jeff opened the cabinet where he was sure he’d placed that fake locket, the very thing to tip them off that the town was lying, but he continued with a disappointed grunt. Eddie stopped idly flipping his dice around. “Hang on.” He murmured and tugged the cabinet open again, squinting into the interior. It was gone. The dust in the cabinet was disturbed in the spot he’d placed it, but the cabinet was empty.
“What is it, Eds?”
“...it was right here.” Eddie tried to say it like a statement, but the end of his voice caught like a question.
Howard turned from where he was crouched. “Eddie, don’t fuck with us, come on.”
“No, I’m serious! I put it there yesterday!” He felt around the inside, as if it would magically reappear again or end up pushed further back by some unknown force. “What the fuck…” Eddie clicking his tongue. “...okay, now it’s a real search.” They spent a few extra minutes prying open cabinets and closets with no clear direction. Finally, on the verge of giving up, Eddie spotted a flash of metallic paint against the stove.
The locket had been shoved into the grate on the built-in stove. Eddie pulled it out, wiping the soot from his fingertips on his jacket. “..okay, everyone stand outside, I need to make sure some little shit didn't move all my pieces.”
“This is why we don’t do physical puzzles.” Gareth said with exasperation, but the group begrudgingly left.
Eddie kept his expression remarkably calm for the array of different emotions battling for dominance in his chest. Once they had their backs turned, he scampered off to his other hiding spots. It had to be someone else coming in and moving things. He’d been away for hours, anyone could have. But why would they do that? Just to fuck with him? Maybe they'd come in looking for things to steal, and tossed it once they realized it was costume jewelry. That made the most sense, and even then it was a huge coincidence. Not many people visited, so a back to back visit from someone unrelated seemed unlikely. Unless it was intentional. Eddie didn't want to imagine the implications of that.
Eddie found everything else as he'd left it, for real this time, although he had trouble telling if one of the papers had shifted an inch or two. He was probably just paranoid now. Regardless, he had his pieces, so Eddie walked back to the door and gave them the thumbs up. They continued playing. The sensation of being watched once more settled on his shoulders.
Thoughts kept distracting him. Why the one thing? That question bugged him the most of all. If they'd been looking for objects to steal, wouldn't they have moved the papers and the fake skull? If it had been to fuck with him, why not take everything and leave him in the lurch? Or maybe this was the goal. To confuse him. To unnerve him. Well, he wouldn't let whomever win. Eddie shoved all those questions to the back of his head. It was just a weird coincidence. That’s what coincidence meant, of course. Everything was fine. He could forget it for the time being.
They played for another two hours or so after that, and as such, Eddie really did forget about it. Then, as they were interrogating a suspicious group of men near the bottom of the catacomb, the third thing went wrong. Jeff cornered one of the men and attempted to intimidate the answer out of him. This would be the deciding role; reveal the twist or not. Eddie had talked through this, and he'd come to the conclusion that even if they suspected it, revealing it on his own terms would be much sweeter.
Eddie tossed the D20. It bounced off the far wall of the dice tray before coming to a stop near the middle.
2. Damn.
He opened his mouth to sputter out, in character, the revaluation that they'd been tricked, but then slowly, very slowly, he watched his die tip to show the 20 face. Like it had been pushed. Now that, Eddie couldn’t come up with any explanation for. He watched it happen. Right in front of his eyes. No gravitational force could account for it; he'd been rolling all night so he knew they weren't on an incline, and it wasn't propped up on one of the edges. Eddie's heart rate announced itself loudly against the curve of his jaw, and he tried to swallow down the jitter of fear that now curled around his thoughts. He wasn’t going to call attention to it. He wasn’t going to. Eddie would wrap this up as quick as possible, then never come back to this house again.
“Eddie?” Jeff leaned forward.
“...the townsman definitely believes what he’s saying.” Eddie would have applauded himself for how well he kept the tremor out of his voice if he didn't suddenly realize just how cold he felt.
Coming here was a mistake.
They got around the midpoint of the campaign when Howard said he needed to be home. His mom, unlike the rest of them, wanted him home for dinner. It was dark by then, and they were using the candles to see what they were doing. Eddie popped up. “Right, well, you made good progress. We can finish this up at school tomorrow.”
Jeff laughed in good spirit as he gathered his material. “What, no more ‘immersive atmosphere’?”
“Eh, it's just easier.” Eddie shrugged. “No one comes in and messes up my puzzles.” At least most of the time. Occasionally, some unfunny asshole broke into the club room and wrecked shop. Eddie would honestly prefer that to whatever was happening right now. He waved them off as he started packing away his DM material. “You guys get going, I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”
Gareth stopped by the sliding door. “You sure you don’t want any help cleaning this up?”
“Yeah, I’ll get it done.” He remained calm and collected until the last party member vaulted over the fence, then finally let his composure shatter into a million little pieces. “Okay, what the fuck- what the fuck was that-” He shot his eyes around the interior of the living room for any indication of life that he'd missed. There was just air. Or was it really? Was there some truth to the rumors flying around this place?
Eddie yanked a flashlight from his bag; he'd brought it in case the candles became too much of a fire hazard, but feared using it in case it killed the atmosphere. Right now, he needed put it six feet under.
It wasn’t ghosts. This place wasn’t haunted. Steve Harrington had disappeared, but people assumed he just ran away. No body had ever been found. It wasn't ghosts, it wasn't ghosts, ghosts weren't real.
Eddie repeated these thoughts as a mantra. It did little to ground him as the darkness felt much closer than it had been moments before. Shadows stretched around his light as he swung with a frantic energy and his breath turned white in the space in front of him. Oh god. His hands shook as he forced himself to confront the thought he could no longer ignore. “...Harrington?” The beam flickered, and Eddie let out a squeal he would never live down should anyone hear it. A weight pressed down on his temples, and he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that there was a presence in the space with him. Something just out of sight, just to the left of the plane on which he comfortably resided. Eddie fought against his body screaming to run, ignoring his survival instinct for this insane notion that he was talking to something. The cold encompassed him now, prickling goose pimples along the milky flesh of his arms. “Or is that Holland?” No response. Not even a flicker, if those were responses. Eddie breathed out, tapering off into a small whine as his knuckles turned white with his grip.
Something a bit more corporeal brushed past his shoulder. It felt like being dunked into an ice bath, and it left him squirming away from the unseen contact. “No, no no no, okay, that’s enough, I’m done. Bye, fuck this.” He blew out the candles and threw them in the bag as fast as he could. Eddie could come back tomorrow, when it was morning. Ghosts didn’t attack in broad daylight; everyone knew that. But that was silly because this wasn't a ghost. He was just tired, or hallucinating, or seeing connections that weren't there.
Eddie threw his bag over his shoulder and hurried to the door, but froze as something hissed out behind him. It was breathy and choked, like someone whispering on the other end of a tin can and flicking the string.
“ ..tomorrow..? ” The word came through a strainer, raking and scratching against his brain the same way speaker feedback did.
Eddie stood ramrod straight. He'd been reduced to a deep primal self, seeing the rising sun for the first time and only knowing how to shriek in confusion and fear. “Yep Okay-”
Eddie let his legs finally have their due, and took off towards the fence line. He’d only come back tomorrow for the table, then he’d put this place out of his head. He’d flown way too close to the sun on this one. If Eddie wasn’t careful, he might be the next one missing at this residence. Maybe he could just leave the stupid table. Who needed those scratchy pillows? Not Eddie! And he also didn’t need whatever the hell was going on here. He had the important stuff with him, so there was absolutely no reason to go back.
-
Against his better judgment, he was back.
Wayne got on him about the missing table, so, even if he didn’t want to, he went back up the hill to that dreadful residence, clambered over that dreadful fence, and entered that dreadful living room. Despite last night, today it presented as a normal house, plain and empty set against a grey backdrop and he wasn’t staying any longer than necessary. Eddie snagged the table, didn’t say anything, and left.
The cold from last night didn’t bother him, and no voice called out to him from the ether, if it was even real to begin with. The 'ghost' had been the one asking him to come back, so the stillness was eerier than anything. Either it didn’t want to bother him, or he was going crazy. It didn't matter, he had been in and out in less than three minutes, and he'd vowed to never return.
Eddie really tried to put it out of his mind. He really did.
But he just kept thinking about it.
Something about the place infested his thoughts. If he sat in his room for too long, he invariably drew back to it, trying to twist and turn the events around and examine them with a careful eye. Maybe if he thought about it long enough, he'd crack the code on what had happened. Eddie hadn’t had anything beforehand- he made it a point to be as clear headed as possible for his performances- so he knew for a fact it had happened as much as he tried to convince himself otherwise. The more Eddie thought, the more assumptions he had to make to find an answer. If he accepted the fact that something beyond comprehension resided in that house, then the rest of the mystery came into focus. The moved locket, the dice that had so obviously rolled, and the skipping tape made perfect sense. An ethereal being could do all of those things, especially if it wasn't very good at piercing the veil. It could only get one word out.
Eddie came to a compromise. If there was a ghost, and he wasn’t saying there was, maybe he could go talk to it. If there wasn't, then he'd get nothing.
This thought, and the growing anxiousness, inevitably drove Eddie back. He managed to hold out for just over a week when he ended up on the porch again holding a homemade Ouija board under his arm. It wasn’t actually wood, just a slat of cardboard with letters and numbers written in permanent marker and a guitar pick to point them out. It would have to do; the dead couldn't afford to be picky.
Eddie knew it was a horrible idea. The single rule he was sure of dictated that one shouldn’t use a board alone, but Eddie couldn’t think of anyone that wouldn't burst out laughing at the mere suggestion. He also didn’t actually know all those aforementioned rules. They had to be blessed or something, right? If Eddie messed this up, he'd prefer doing it on his own rather than with someone assuming he was joking.
He wasn’t joking though. Even if he really, really wished he was. Eddie idled in front of the door, wiggling his fingers and trying to hype himself up. He breathed in, then out, then pulled open the door. “...hello?” He crossed the barrier, then immediately sat down in the wedge of moonlight pouring through the glass. Some childish belief stuck in his brain that it would shield him. “Uh… I brought this thing. If you want to talk.” He held up the cardboard, letting the words echo around the empty room, before sighing. “This is so stupid.” Eddie slapped the board down, placing the pick on top.
“Is… is anyone there?” He swallowed against the shake in his voice, placing his finger on the edge of the plastic. Eddie was fast approaching the territory of ‘stupid horror movie character who dies first’.
It didn’t move.
“Hello?" He drawled. "Edward Munson, asking for your time?” Eddie paused, leaning back and removing his hand from the board. “Okay, maybe giving a potential demon my full name wasn’t smart-” Eddie jumped back as the pick shot across the cardboard.
Yes.
“Oh- oh, great.” He laughed awkwardly, swallowing the bowling ball sized lump in his throat. “Lovely, amazing, hi, hello.” Eddie re-positioned himself as nerves plucked at muscles. One of the rules was not showing fear, right? He should have figured those out before he did this. “...you uh, got a name?” The pick circled around to yes again, then stopped. He stared, waiting, then realized. The flickers of fear in his chest dampened. “You think you’re real fuckin' funny, don’t you.” He watched it make yet another circle, and his shoulders slumped. “Shit, alright, so you’re like- a whole, real actual ghost.” Another circle. “And since you’re going to be such a little shit, what is your name?”
S, T, E, V, E.
Eddie's heart doubled over in his chest, bile tinging the back of his throat as he stared at it resting on the final E. “Oh my god- oh my god okay-” But then it started to move again, much faster. “Whoa- whoa whoa, Stevie Wonder, slow down, I can’t read that quick.”
The pick slowed as requested, something scratching at the cardboard before pushing back to the first letter in the sequence.
D.
The scraping grated on Eddie's nerves, but he’d suck it up.
U.
Eddie grabbed a pen from his pocket and started scribbling on his arm.
S.
“Okay, you can move faster than that.” Eddie murmured.
T, I, N.
He furrowed his brow. “...whose Dustin?”
It moved faster this time, although still giving him enough space to read.
F, R, I, E, N, D.
Eddie squinted down at the board. He couldn't place anyone with that name at their high school, and if this really was Steven ‘The King’ Harrington, he couldn’t just stroll up to one of his friends and talk to them. He’d guarantee an attempted ass kicking that day. “Dude, I can’t just go up and talk to your friends. No offense- actually some, they suck. There’s a reason guys like you and me don’t talk.”
There was an impatient tap on the cardboard, something that made Eddie jump against his better judgment. It moved to No.
“What do you mean no?”
M, I, D, D, L, E.
“…Middle? Middle of what?" Eddie churned the words around. "Like, the middle school? You were friends with a fuckin baby?” The pick stopped sharp and a harsh huff tousled the end of his curls. “Hey, come on, I’m not making fun of you. I’m just asking.” It moved to yes, very slowly. “...Okay, okay, what do you want me to do with…” He squinted at his arm. “Dustin at the middle school?”
B, R, I, N, G.
Eddie lowered his arm and stared at the space in front of him, searching. Honestly, he had no clue where this guy was sitting; he could be right next to Eddie, and that thought curled like milk through his lungs. “You want me to go talk to a middle schooler and bring him to the creepy abandoned house where people go missing on the behest of a, and I cannot stress this enough, dead guy ?” He groaned as it moved to yes . “Dude, do you know anything about me? It’ll look like I’m trying to kidnap him.” There was silence between them. This was it, he figured. He'd put himself in this situation, and just like before this would nag at him. Eddie knew himself. Curious to a fault, and maybe this would be the thing that killed him. He sighed. “Alright, fine.”
T, H, A, N, K.
Well, at least he was polite. Eddie scoffed, brushing his hair out of his face. “Thank me after I don’t get arrested for even attempting this.” He grumbled. This was definitely something else fucking with him. Honestly, he was a fool to believe it in the first place, but if there were a fool here who’d chase this, just to see where it went, Eddie Munson would. It would probably kill him. Or possess him. But he’d do it.
Like a goddamn idiot.