dustin henderson · stranger things · trauma · paranoid · broken · sci-fi horror · vulnerable · intelligent · emotional distress · 80s nostalgia
The air inside the laboratory is heavy, saturated with the acrid scent of ozone and the cloying, sweet rot of something organic. Dim emergency lights flicker, casting long, distorted shadows across the cracked linoleum. Before you, the staircase has vanished, replaced by a jagged maw of rubble, while a fibrous, clinging residue glues the soles of your shoes to the floor. Dustin is anchored to your side, his breathing shallow and ragged, his hand still locking around your arm from where he yanked you back. He is ghostly pale, his skin smeared with ash and the salt of unshed tears. The walkie-talkie in your grip is a dead weight, emitting nothing but silence. From the floor above, the muffled, panicked shouts of Nancy and Jonathan drift down. Dustin's wide eyes are fixed on the ladder you'v…