Chapter Text
Dust covers the surfaces of the old kitchen, the windows blurry from wind and weather. The air inside the house is stuffy from being trapped for months and months. The once white curtains are stained beige from years of smoke, clearly never been washed or changed, evident by the faint smell of it even when the owner of the house isn't around. At least not currently.
Rick has at least 2 months of jail time left for drug possession and alleged distribution.
It's also the main reason the small house by the lake makes a perfect hiding spot. Barely anyone knows it's out there and even less people would come looking for him here.
Big plus, the building was like a second home growing up. The well known familiarity makes it feel safe. Feeling secure was definitely one of the most important factors in his decision when looking for a place to stay after he ran in a frenzy.
Eddie is currently on the tiled kitchen floor, back pressed into the corner of the cabinets. Even though he's been here for a few hours, his breathing is still erratic.
A handful of small bruises bloom proud on the inside of his arm, but no matter how hard he had pinched himself, he wouldn't wake up from this nightmare. He plucked out a handful of strings of dark curly hair, but no matter how it stung, he was still trapped in this horrible vision.
This can't be real!
He has seen fantasy movies and horror flicks alike, has read more novels of grand magical adventures than anyone else in this god forsaken town. It feels like he should have been prepared for something paranormal happening. But not to him. Not in rural, small town Hawkins, Indiana.
Eddie leans back, lightly bumping his head into the counter behind him, letting out a deep sigh. For hours he’s been trying to convince himself his creative mind merely came up with this crazy story fueled by a too-strong dosage of weed, or that he simply fell asleep on the couch. But the marks on his skin prove otherwise.
When he closes his eyes he can still see her bones snap, can hear the faint echo of cracking and a distant memory of his own voice, screaming and panicked. Not even after a horror movie marathon would he be able to come up with something like this.
Which leaves only one option: it really happened.
Sweet cheerleader Chrissy came to him for help, he left her alone in the room for only a few minutes, and somehow some paranormal entity decided it wanted to take the nice girl, levitating her off the ground and killing her on the spot, while Eddie could do nothing but watch.
And then he ran.
Cause how would he explain something like that to the authorities? Who would believe him? His image around town is already bad enough - the town pariah, resident freak, drug dealer, trailer trash – take your pick.
And Eddie is leaning into that behavior, normally. Gladly so. Throws big speeches on top of cafeteria tables, laying on thick with the devil horns and the grimaces. Channeling his crazy side, throwing off people with his act.
It’s not that any of these personalities or performances really are Eddie. In the end, it’s all show. The armor he puts on every morning - being over the top so the jocks and bullies won’t mess with him.
But with all of it comes even more unwanted attention, and soon after come the rumors. Kids have great fantasies, no one knows that better than Eddie, and the more well-known he becomes, the weirder the shit people make up about him.
Once every few months someone claims Eddie is drinking blood to gain more of his freakish power (false). Someone once claimed to have seen him talk to animals (cool, but sadly, also false). Circling around time after time is the fact that Eddie is a queer (very much true, but it’s not like he wants people to know that). Eddie’s favorite story to this day is still what Chase made up, telling his friends that Eddie allegedly hypnotized the guy by staring at him weirdly (too good to be true).
Piled on top of it all are the latest rumors about his club at school and D&D in general. Whispers about it being a cult filled the halls for days, with him being the big bad evil leader. For some reason people think a bunch of nerds with dice and costumes who meet up for roleplay adventure games would also go around sacrificing virgins or whatever.
No matter what the truth was, naïve small town folk latched onto the craziest figments of imagination, when told by the right people, and were easily manipulated; following their herd’s leaders like the good little sheep they are.
All it would take was one look at the scene and Eddie would be done for. ‘Shining example of a girl with a promising future found dead in the trailer of a well-known and warned off drug dealer’ - Eddie can already imagine the headline. It doesn’t take a genius to connect the dots there. The story for the news was practically writing itself. They would lock Eddie up on the spot, no questions asked. What would he even tell them anyway? Would anyone believe him? Would his uncle-
Shit! Wayne. Fuck, fuck, fuck! I left Chrissy there. Will he think I did- No. Maybe? Think about what it looks like. I can’t even explain what happened. I fled the scene. Didn’t even call for help – not that anyone could have helped her. Oh god!
Eddie curls up in a small ball, legs tucked under his chin. He rests his head on his knees and buries his hands in this hair, lightly pulling at the roots, hoping it’ll soothe him.
This is so messed up. Shit!
He startles awake when the birds outside the lakehouse begin to chirp, the first rays of sunshine reflecting in the glass front of a cabinet. Dust particles dance around in the stale air, clearly visible by the back light.
Somehow exhaustion must have gotten to Eddie, carrying him off to a dreamless slumber. He can’t remember falling asleep but he must have been out for an hour or two. His neck hurts and his limbs ache when he slowly gets up and stretches out.
Still groggy he takes in his surroundings. The tiled floor, the dusty cabinets – familiar and comforting but obviously not the trailer.
Then the events of the night prior come rushing in. Like a tidal wave Eddie is hit full force. His head is reeling and he has to grip the counter so he doesn’t tumble over. He can feel his stomach churn, his mouth becomes dry, his swallowing heavy. In the last few moments of clarity he manages to get over to the sink, just in time for bile rising up his throat.
Eddie dry heaves and coughs. His hair falls forward and he can see the outlines of his locks blurrily through his watering eyes. His stomach convulses, throwing him into a new fit but nothing comes out. Distantly Eddie recalls throwing up in the woods the night before, so there is nothing left.
He's shaking all over. Not feeling stable on his legs, Eddie slowly moves over to the dust covered table and slumps into a chair there.
He needs a plan! And he needs to figure out what the fuck happened!
First, he has to calm down. Eddie grips the rings on his fingers and turns them while getting his thoughts in order. He takes a few deep breaths.
Whatever got Chrissy is not out for me. If it was, I'd be dead already. And I'm not floating, so that's a good sign…
Skipping town is out of question. The police are probably looking for me already. Fuck.
It had probably been a good idea to ditch the van in the woods the previous night and run the rest of the way to the lake house. Even though it has been crazy risky to leave the safety of a vehicle. But Chrissy had not been safe inside his house either, so location probably didn't matter. At least now Eddie has a head start on hiding from whatever it was. And the authorities.
No one ever comes out here, especially not this early in spring. He can't really see hitching a ride and getting out of town. And he can't leave Wayne behind like that either. His uncle has sacrificed everything so he could take Eddie in. Going as far as cleaning out his only bedroom and settling for a folding bed in the living room, so Eddie can have his privacy. “It's enough for me, boy. I'm only sleepin’ when I'm alone anyway. It's ‘kay.” he'd said.
And Eddie? Brought him trouble after trouble, bad grades, capturing all the mean looks by the ‘righteous’ people on the streets, starting expensive hobbies and asking him for money all the time.
That's the main reason he'd asked Rick to help him out - to get him some stuff he could sell on the downlow. Eddie started out as a customer back then, when he was feeling anxious and needed something to calm his nerves. But the extra cash would make it a bit easier on Wayne, who was so kind to him, even after all the shit that Eddie had pulled. Somewhere deep down his uncle probably regretted taking him in. He never said it, but some treacherous part in Eddie knows.
Wayne did his best to welcome Eddie but it somehow never felt completely right. The old man was just so hard to read.
Rick was the complete opposite. Eddie first met him when he accompanied his uncle to get his uncle’s car fixed by Rick and the man and he immediately clicked. Goofed around and joked. He even stuck around after his mechanical work to play tag with little Eddie.
Who knew a local drug dealer could make such a great babysitter?
Rick was a weirdo, living out by the lake. Rumors were true, he was selling weed. Other stuff too. But for some reason Rick took a liking to Eddie. Maybe because they were both alone. Maybe because the town condemned them both as freaks. And Eddie liked Rick too. The man was weird but caring, a bit like Wayne. When Eddie skipped school or needed a place to stay, he'd walk all the way out to Lover's Lake and hang out with Rick - who taught him how to swim when Eddie showed up constantly during summer once it got too hot in the trailer.
Rick - who helped Eddie cut his hair when some mean kid stuck gum into his long locks, who held his hand afterwards, when Eddie was crying after seeing his buzz cut in the mirror.
Rick - who sometimes had cars parked in front of his house that probably did not belong to him, where he taught Eddie how to tinker and short-circuit on different makes and models.
Yeah, he was a weirdo, but Rick made him feel safe. He was probably the closest thing Eddie ever had to a father.
Sure, his uncle provided the money and the house, but working the night shift at the plant left little time to actually be a family or do things together. Wayne never even wanted a family to begin with. He was just Eddie's next of kin when his parents fucked off to hell knows where and he was picked up by CPS at a gas station in freaking nowhere. So they put him with his uncle as guardian, springing a hyperactive child on the man he'd maybe seen twice before.
So even with all the crazy shit going down, Eddie's mind was clear enough to lead him to the only place he felt safe, besides the trailer.
But sooner or later people will realize where I’m staying. Or maybe the creepy paranormal thing will come for me first?
He needed to get some strength back, find a place to lay low while he’s trying to figure out what he’s going to do, and most importantly, find something to protect himself.
With new vigor, Eddie raids the kitchen of the vacant house. There isn’t much left but he manages to find a handful of chocolate bars, a bottle of Coke and another bottle with no label that smells somewhat alcoholic after cracking the lid.
Oh fuck it! I'm a dead man walking anyway.
Eddie throws back his head and swallows the drink. It burns down his throat, not really helping with his upset stomach or his nerves.
He combs the house for some sort of weapon, anything that could provide a bit of safety, but Rick doesn't own any guns, isn't allowed to either with his criminal record.
Eddie finds an old umbrella, but it doesn't scream “dangerous” so he deems it unfit. Nothing else stands out either.
When Eddie looks through the bedroom closet, his gaze shifts outside to the lake. Glistening peaceful in the morning light. His eyes wander over the shoreline.
The shed!! Of course! Man, I hope Rick keeps some useful shit there.
Not to mention the boathouse makes a great hiding spot too. Even if someone would show up at Rick’s, would they bother checking the shed? It’s Eddie's best bet. He snatches the snacks and drinks from the counter, locks the door behind him and sneaks over to the boathouse.