I squeeze my eyes closed. I shut them tightly, as if to block out what is about to happen to me.
Under my eyelids, I see many things. I see my motherās warmth, I see my sisterās braveness.
I see Dustinās intelligence and passions, I see Lucasās loyalty and humor, I see Maxās snarkyness, Elās everlasting curiosity.
And most of all - worst of all, I see Will.
I see everything about him: his younger self, his giggles and his āWill the Wiseā costume. His sensitivity, his observations, his care.
I hear his words echo softly around my mind.
Unlike the otherās, I can also see the bad things: the words I have said to him, the loneliness I have caused him, the blames I have placed on him.
His big, sad eyes which I have caused to tear up.
I see everything about Will so clearly, and it makes a sense of doom spread through me, accompanied by warmth, joy, bitter sweetnessā¦. and something which I can only describe as a mystery yet to be solved.
My heart beats, it beats and beats. I donāt know if Iām already dead: am I too lost in thought to notice the demogorgon ripping into me? Tearing my flesh like it has my motherās and fatherās?
I want to open my eyes, see Will.
I donāt like the feeling in my chest he causes, but weirdly, in this moment itās the only feeling I wish to feel.
But also, what if I open them, and all I see amongst the dead soldiers are Willās bent joints, his lifeless body on the ground, wounds caused by Vecna?
What if the last thing I see are the black holes where his eyes are supposed to be?
I grow impatient, every second feels like an eternity. Everything is unreal. My breaths are dense and shaky.
āMike the Braveā ā Thatās who I am, atleast who Iām supposed to be.
Thereās nothing I can do. Thereās no secret move to pull to get out from this situation. No backup that could kill the demogorgon. No dice to roll.
The only thing I can do is be brave, calm myself in the face of death: see Will, dead or alive ā so, I gain all the courage I need to open my eyes.
In front of me is the demogorgon.
But itās not clawing me or eating me: Itās levitating.
Eleven? I wonder, trying to solve the mystery of what could be my savior.
Then, I remember who I opened my eyes for. Heās not hard to spot.
Behind the dying demogorgon is Will.
His eyes are white, his hand is stretched out like Elās would be.
The typical, overwhelming feeling is gone, and I feel the corners of my mouth curl into a smile. Everything slows down.
Iām safe, Iām proud ā Iām smitten.
I thought Will would save me by being my last thought, my last sight.
But instead, there he is.
Powerful as ever, my sorcerer.
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