Freakmindmine

It was dark, as if something as bright as light would never exist again, and along with the darkness, a ghostly silence broken only by the panting sound of her breathing. Running desperately across what, judging by the texture beneath her bare feet, must have been a poorly maintained lawn.

She tried to look over her shoulder, but it was useless; nothing could be seen in the darkness. So she just kept running, feeling more desperate with each passing second. In one of her glances over her shoulder, she lost focus on what was ahead, and out of control, she bumped into the terrifying and imposing figure that used to haunt her nightmares.

Victor Creel.

A scream of terror escaped her throat, as loud as it could be in that environment which resembled a vacuum more than an open field. It didn't seem to have any effect; in fact, it only made him laugh and move even closer to her.

She could see the depths of his empty, compassionless eyes, dry and soulless. There was no pity there, only endless and absolute cruelty.

"I thought I'd killed all the Creel..." Victor's cold voice murmured through a smile as he caressed her jaw with the tip of his index finger. "But it seems I forgot one."

Suddenly her house appeared in the vision, as if it had been there from the beginning, and next to it the image of Steve in the window. Sitting alone, nonchalantly looking at a sports car magazine. Her eyes widened instantly, shifting from her son to the wicked man in front of her.

"Please, no." She pleaded hoarsely, shaking her head and feeling herself faint, suddenly breathless.

"You'll pay for your lies..." Victor hummed maliciously, and suddenly darkness engulfed her in one gulp, causing a feeling of fear to overwhelm her so deeply that she thought she was dying.

And when the darkness finally dissipated enough for her to see, she truly wished she were dead, because the sight that greeted her was infinitely worse than death. Her boy lying on the ground, broken, eyeless, lifeless.

Screams and more screams of pain and pure despair escaped her lips, and carelessly she fell upon her son's body, weeping copiously while Victor's cruel laughter echoed all around, leaving her unaware of its source.

Suddenly everything seemed to fall apart uncontrollably, disregarding her pain and cries. When she opened her eyes again, she was slumped over the polished, gleaming wooden dressing table in her own room. The tears still seemed fresh in her eyes, which were furiously red and wide.

"It's alright, darling..." Danny's voice broke through the room in a calm, serene purr as he gazed at her through the mirror and stroked her shoulders, making her shiver. "It's over, it was just a dream."

She saw him in the mirror, well-dressed, polished, the face of the upper class who were always happy to be superior to everything and everyone. She saw herself, not very different from him. A bright, well-cut dress, fitted to her skin, tailor-made to fit only her.

"There's one thing missing." Danny smiled sideways, stroking her neck with his left thumb, making her force a smile while suppressing a grimace as she watched him reach with his right hand for the pearl necklace her mother had sent to be repaired as quickly as she had broken it.

She hated that damned collar with all her heart. To her, it was like a very expensive leash, made to keep an exotic animal imprisoned forever with no chance of escape.

She was that poor animal.

Gently and delicately, Danny ran the cool pearls along her delicate neck, making her shiver and squeeze her eyes shut as she subtly held her breath.

"Such an expensive gift..." Danny sighed, stroking her neck from top to bottom with a serene look on his face. "For such a cheap, heartless bitch."

Danny's gaze suddenly turned cold, as did his voice. And before she could do anything or even think, he grabbed the clasp of her necklace with both hands and pulled it back forcefully, making her gasp and struggle as she felt the airflow to her lungs slowly being cut off.

"You thought I'd never find out, didn't you, you little bitch?" His voice murmured very close to her ear as he maintained a firm grip, making her yelp in despair.

"That you could fool everyone without consequences..." Danny hissed, his eyes widening as he watched her choke with immeasurable pleasure overflowing from his gaze, while she tried unsuccessfully to push his hands away, barely able to keep her own eyes open at that point.

"You'll pay for your lies." Suddenly, a deeper, more frightening voice uttered mockingly, and even without strength, driven by panic, her eyes opened again, only to see that it was no longer Danny who was choking her.

Clear as before, the image of Victor Creel stared back at her through the mirror, causing a small, strangled sound to escape her lips in a final gasp of fear and pain.

She couldn't scream. It was no use writhing. And yet her body continued to fight tirelessly for oxygen, even though her head felt like it was going to explode with sharp pain at that point. The image that had terrified her most in her life would probably be the last thing she saw.

Victor Creel, grinning maniacally and covered in the blood of those she loved.

It was there, in that moment when her heart and body were both consumed by pure despair, that a tall figure emerged from the shadows, as if it had materialized from the walls, and with a single movement of its hand snatched Victor from on top of her as if he weighed nothing.

She collapsed onto the table, coughing in despair, clutching her aching throat as she watched in the mirror's reflection as Victor vanished into thin air as if he were nothing, like a ghost made only to haunt her, bringing immeasurable relief to her terrified heart.

A relief slowly faded as she remembered she wasn't alone in that room. Feeling weak, she slowly raised her tired body and, still through the mirror, with narrowed eyes, she watched the unknown figure emerge from the shadows. A figure that was far from anyone she might suspect.

Henry.

It was him. Standing there with a latent fury in his eyes, his hand still outstretched as he stared at the spot where her attacker had vanished, almost as if in insult. At that same instant, her eyes filled with tears, and she held her breath, remaining completely still, almost as if she feared that if she moved, the nightmare would return and Henry would vanish in his place.

It wasn't as if she had never dreamed or thought about Henry before. She constantly did. But not in this way. She almost never had dreams, only nightmares. Just horrors where Henry was ripped from her along with everything else, and nothing could be done to save her. And in her pale memories, Henry was always frozen in time.

The same haircut, the same youthful features, the same clothes from adolescence. Because, after all, Henry had never had the opportunity to grow old. He was forever trapped in the memories of her youth, remaining young forever, completely untouched by old age or the oppressive passage of time that snatched everything from everyone.

But not today. Not there.

There were subtle wrinkles on his angry, furious face. His hair was different, blonder than she remembered, and he wore a white outfit, similar to a medical uniform, which she had never seen him wear before. He seemed, like her, grown up.

Like her, Henry remained silent, staring at her from the darkness as if she were the apparition, not him. Their gazes didn't waver, locked together like magnets, both breathless, seeming to make an absolute effort just to stay there without collapsing.

She wouldn't have moved, after all; she felt she could sit there, just stare at him for hours and finally feel at peace with herself. But something inside her begged her to get up and walk over to him. Even if he vanished into thin air, she needed to know that she had at least tried to get closer, that she had at least tried to touch him.

And that's what she did.

Slowly, and still feeling her body tremble from the previous shock, she rose from the vanity stool and walked toward Henry with careful steps. As if she were in the woods observing the animals and trying not to frighten them.

He stood motionless before her, his breathing still uneven, but his gaze a little less fierce. Looking both terrifying and terrified at the same time.

She was just inches away from touching him, so close she could feel the warmth of his pale skin within reach. Gathering her courage, she gently pressed her palm against his chiseled jaw, sighing deeply as she finally appreciated something as simple as touch.

But it went beyond that; it wasn't just appreciation. Suddenly, it was as if a gentle shock ran through her entire body, completely energizing her. Henry closed his eyes, seeming, like her, to feel contentment, and slowly the dark and frightening room began to crumble into thin air, just as Victor had done moments before.

She looked around confused, and before she could comprehend it, the beautiful, flowery meadow of Hawkins had materialized beneath her feet. Soft, smelling of wildflowers and fresh grass after the rain. The sun shone brightly in the sky, and she could feel the gentle warmth warming her back, driving away the earlier chill that had frozen her.

Henry remained motionless in front of her, not uttering a single word, but staring at her so intently that it seemed he was sinking into her. She didn't mind. In fact, she liked it. She wanted to feel his gaze on her forever.

His hands seemed to tremble at his sides, as if something was consuming him from the inside. She didn't know what it was or which side had won, but gently his left hand rose, and using the back of his hand, Henry caressed her cheek with a tenderness she hadn't felt in a long time.

Instantly, she tilted her face toward his touch, so openly that it seemed as if they hadn't seen each other for hours, not years. A sigh escaped her lips, and though her eyes wanted to close as a natural reaction, she didn't allow it, for she didn't want to miss a single instant of that moment.

"My God..." She murmured softly, suddenly still looking him in the eyes and feeling her irises burn with new, unshed tears.

"What was that?" Henry spoke for the first time, making her stomach churn as a subtle shiver ran down her spine. His voice was deeper, hoarser, sounding even more perfect than before.

"I don't want this to become a nightmare..." She sighed back, shaking her head, feeling her lower lip tremble like that of a helpless child.

"It won't happen." He whispered back with the serious look of someone making a promise he could keep. "I won't let it."

"How can you promise that?" She took a deep breath and wrinkled her nose before speaking, anchored so firmly to Henry that she could feel his pulse against hers.

"Trust me. I can." He murmured simply, his eyes carefully scanning her figure.

"Still as beautiful and sassy as ever." A ghost of a smile appeared on Henry's lips, warming her heart both at the sight and the words, but before she could respond properly, a loud, irritating noise abruptly invaded her ears.

She stared at Henry with a furrowed brow, but when she blinked, trying to understand what was happening, and opened her eyes again, she was no longer in the meadow amidst the flowers, but at home; lying on the cast-iron bed with expensive, soft sheets around her, listening to the damned alarm clock ringing as if it were the end of the world.

A strange sensation overwhelmed her body, and she could barely move to turn off the alarm clock, her legs trembling. That dream had been so real that she could still feel the warmth of Henry's skin against hers, his soft breath as he murmured each word. She could even hear his husky voice echoing in her mind.

Beautiful.

That was the main word that echoed. Dream or not, that was the first time she had felt butterflies in her stomach since her youth. Just the mere imagination of Henry in a joyful dream had been able to warm her heart and body in a way she didn't yet know was possible.

Although moments later sadness slowly returned to overwhelm her with the unfortunate realization that yes, it had only been a rare, joyful dream amidst an ocean of nightmares, and that no, she would never see Henry again.

During those few minutes of contentment, she savored the small glimmer of happiness, carefully admiring herself in the hand mirror she kept in the bedside table drawer, and wondering if Henry would still think she was beautiful if he were really there. If he would still love what remained of her, a tormented and sad soul, but one that thought of him every day and hour.

⋆˙‧☽ ◯ ☾‧˙⋆

Henry's eyes were fixed on the Creel house's pendulum clock, just as they used to be in his childhood, but unlike then, the pendulum of the dilapidated and dirty clock didn't move. The hands were still, completely static and stagnant, neither going forward nor backward. For a moment, for the first time, Henry wished they would move, so he would at least have something to follow.

His mind wandered uncontrollably to her, images of her memories and nightmares assailing him unbidden. When Henry finally found her consciousness amidst the chaotic memories, he hadn't had the courage to torture her, not when it seemed that was all she had done to herself in recent years.

Her mind was a mess of guilt and pain, so tangled together that Henry could barely navigate his memories in a cohesive and coherent way. He was only certain of one thing: she had never forgotten him. The world had buried Henry Creel forever, but she cherished his memory and nurtured it with affection.

Somehow, it did something strange to his heart, knowing that he was remembered. Even more so when his mind kept drifting to the constant thought in her mind about that last time the two of them were in the janitor's closet and how something had taken root inside her that day.

The boy was his. Not Harrington's idiot. Henry's. He could even notice some similarities now when he stopped to think about it. At that moment he looked at his reflection in the watch glass and could glimpse his own appearance as he was now, causing a strange pang to hit him.

It would have looked similar if he hadn't been disfigured. She had always said he was very handsome, and Henry knew it. But now, looking at himself in the dirty, stained glass, he could see his own face, half burned, half still whole. His hair was too long, tangled and dirty, his thick fingernails were long and equally dirty. All covered by old, tattered clothes.

There was nothing beautiful about him.

The moment that thought came to him, a seductive, high-pitched voice whispered in the back of Henry's mind, causing him to squint and bring his hand to his left temple as he felt a slight prick of pain in his head.

You don't need that, Henry... you're a predator.

It was true. He didn't need to. So why did he want to? Because deep down he was wondering if she would still like him as he was or not, when none of that really mattered? When she didn't matter...

Henry was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he barely heard the voices approaching from Hawkins, not until they were at the front door grumbling and chattering nonsense as they stormed into his old house. Amidst the voices, he heard the boy's voice; as always, he was with his friends, sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

Slowly, Henry pressed his eyes shut, concentrating on Max. He couldn't put her in a trance while she was listening to the music, but he could follow her through the void and also see through her eyes. It didn't take much effort for it to be as if he were among them once again, seeing everything, hearing everything.

"I need to call my mom and tell her I probably won't be coming home again today," Steve grumbled, glancing around the house with a grimace as he opened the door through the broken glass.

"Steve is such a mama's boy..." the Buckley girl teased with a laugh behind Steve, making him roll his eyes.

"I'm not a mama's boy." He grumbled back, pointing the flashlight at the ceiling and walls. "She worries, and I don't like seeing her upset."

"Yes, said the guy who put his mother on his resume as a reference..." She laughed, shining the beam of light in his face.

"I already told you, she's super well-respected..." He shrugged as he walked across the hall, followed closely by his friends.

Henry watched them intently every step of the way, walking through his house and rummaging through everything as if he weren't there. In a way he wasn't, but it still irritated him, even more so when they dared to open the door to his old room.

Even in the Upside Down, Henry wouldn't go there; he avoided even memories of that place because it reminded him of a life that no longer belonged to him. The feeling of seeing that environment again so many years later was strange; everything was exactly where he had left it, but covered in dust.

"It's Henry's room..." Nancy murmured, looking intently around, as if a realization were magically about to dawn on her.

"And what's so wrong with that?" Steve looked around confused, illuminating the dark room and following Nancy's gaze.

"His father said something about Henry being more sensitive to..." Robin grimaced thoughtfully as she entered the room behind the two, already opening the closet door and peering inside with the flashlight, making Henry's blood boil. "I don't know what the hell was haunting this family."

The lamp's light flickered on subtly, almost imperceptible if the house weren't completely dark and deserted. But Nancy noticed, frowning, immediately fiddling with the switch, and glancing askance at the others when it had no effect.

Henry's gaze returned to Steve, who was now leafing through one of the books on the bedside table, bored. The next thing he would get his hands on if he continued on the same path would be Henry's sketchbook, which was right below the dusty book.

A sketchbook that contained hundreds of drawings of his mother in every possible pose: conversing while Henry watched her from afar, laughing amidst the meadow flowers, and some even considered not very decent for a young lady of the time.

"Henry might have been sensitive..." Robin murmured, emerging with a laugh from the closet, something in her hand, causing Steve to toss the book onto the table, raising a bit of dust and turning his attention to her. "But even back in the '60s he knew how to have fun."

"For God's sake, Robin..." Steve whispered, rolling his eyes as he saw a condom packet in her hand, walking in the opposite direction from the bedside table and forgetting about the notebook.

"I'm not judging!" She laughed, throwing the package back into the cupboard and raising her hands. "Actually, it's quite modern for its time... in the 60s, were still considered an outrage by the church and society."

That was strange. Suddenly, it wasn't just anger Henry was feeling about the intrusion; there was something more. He felt his body heat up and looked away. For a moment, it seemed like he was seventeen again, and his mother was searching his room for reckless behavior or inappropriate things.

Something he had plenty of hidden away, or that boy wouldn't be with his friends ransacking his room right now. Henry rolled his eyes at the thought.

Fortunately, after that they went to look elsewhere, finding that it was just the room of a normal teenage boy. Perhaps for a while it had really been just that, and suddenly, Henry found himself wishing it had been a longer time.

Their conversations were boring and silly, causing his attention to wander to other things. A small thought invaded his mind: were his conversations with her really that tedious? But as soon as the thought arose, Henry immediately denied it. Nothing with her could ever be boring; every second by her side always seemed brilliant.

Henry's lost attention was regained when a conversation between Robin and Steve began; it seemed silly at first, but to ears that already knew the truth, it was nothing short of enlightening.

"You always go on about crawling backwards," Robin teased, passing Steve after Nancy had moved a little further down the hallway. "I didn't even know how to crawl properly!"

"Oh, here we go..." Steve threw his head back, rolling his eyes.

"Did you know it took me months to walk with the same coordination as the other children?" She sighed, staring intently at him.

"Yes Rob, I happen to know that because you've told me more than ten times." He murmured with a sigh, bumping his right shoulder against his friend's, who lowered her head and laughed.

"But you know, I'm a kind of medical miracle..." Steve shrugged, making a face, while Robin stared at him, already interested in the subject.

"I was born just over six months premature." He laughed, walking beside the younger. "The entire medical team thought I was going to die or have a thousand lasting effects... but nothing."

"Not a single thing? You swear?" Robin arched his eyebrows in disbelief, pointing the flashlight at him. "Not even the slightest problem with your lungs?"

"Captain of the swim team and lifeguards." Steve tilted his head and shrugged confidently.

"Your parents got married very young, didn't they, Steve?" She laughed, giving him two light taps on the shoulder, suddenly bursting into laughter.

"Yes, why?" He dismissed it, but frowned at the look on his friend's face, who simply walked away smiling towards Nancy and the others. "Robin? What's so funny?"

For a second Henry was paralyzed, even though he already knew the truth, hearing it from the boy, something that brought even more clarity to the facts, made his stomach churn. Suddenly he wanted to go after the boy and just stare at him, searching for traits in him that reminded him of himself and her.

There would be nothing of that damned Danny Harrington there. Not in my offspring. Henry thought proudly and with subtle malice, knowing that after all, it wasn't that jerk who had given her a child.

Henry was staring at the boy's back when suddenly a cruel and senseless rage overwhelmed him. Hatred so pure that it made his stomach burn, and amidst that hatred, a malicious whisper echoed in the back of his head.

Forget the other one, kill Harrington. He's an easier target.

That wasn't true. Nothing in those words was true, starting with the surname used to refer to him. The boy wasn't an easy target, and Henry understood why now. In a way, he had left something to him; his mental gifts were with him, even if he didn't know how to use or control them. And perhaps it was better that way, so that he wouldn't end up like Henry, just another piece of state property, with a number on his arm while scientists experimented on him.

He is weak. Catching him now will save you trouble later.

Perhaps that was true, perhaps the boy would cause her problems in the future, but either way Henry couldn't kill him. Because if, for some reason, however small, she still saw anything good in him despite his deformities, she would hate him forever if he touched even a hair on her son's head. And deep down, Henry admitted that he didn't want that.

Ignoring the suggestions, he climbed the stairs to the attic, preparing to enter a meditative state to fully access Patrick's distant mind. He was suddenly surprised to feel a trickle of blood running down his nose as he tried to concentrate, something that hadn't happened to him when using his powers in a long time.

Ignoring the bleeding, Henry closed his eyes and relentlessly focused on finding his victim, but something new happened this time. Unlike with Crissy and Fred, his head ached like hell as he searched for Patrick, while images of Steve appeared amidst the search like subtle hints.

Henry ignored it, even though it seemed to be causing his headache to gradually worsen. Patrick finally appeared in his mind, a bright young boy with a whole future ahead of him, just as he had once been, before having it all stolen from him, in the exact same way he would steal it from Patrick now.

Come on Henry, we're almost there. We're so close...

For a moment Henry's throat tightened and a strange sting made him pull his hand away, but the instant he pulled back the pain was so intense that it motivated him to continue. There was no stopping now. He needed to go all the way. And so he did, but again, unlike the other times, he felt Patrick's death against his own skin, almost as if his own bones were slowly breaking along with the boy's.

Without warning or consent, a memory awakened in Henry's mind. His eyes suddenly widened to find the lonely darkness of the attic staring back at him. He could barely breathe, only feeling his chest rise and fall rapidly.

It wasn't exactly a memory; there were no images or sounds, but there was something just as powerful: feelings. It was the night he killed his own family, and there, Henry finally realized that what he felt that night wasn't satisfaction, it was pure, excruciating physical and mental pain.

But if it hurt as much as the ghostly feeling of that memory suggested, then why had he done all of this in the first place?

⋆˙‧☽ ◯ ☾‧˙⋆

A/n²: The comments on the previous part made me so happy that I did my best to post another part right away! I am very grateful for all the comments and I hope you enjoyed it :) Things are starting to move towards Steve discovering his true origins soon. Leave comments and suggestions ♡

ps: I think I tagged everyone this time, if you were left out and want to be tagged let me know ♡

The sun was already high in the sky that morning, casting a rather pale glow on that early spring day. For her, this wasn't so unusual, since almost every morning had turned pale since that particular morning when she had received the news of the massacre at the Creel house.

Her stomach still churned whenever the memories disturbed her, even more so in recent days after two teenagers were found dead in Hawkins and some people were whispering Victor Creel's name as if whispering the name of the devil.

She tried to avoid thinking about it, but it was impossible, and as was her morning habit, she went to check if her sweet Steve had already gotten up for work. There was a time when she wasn't so crazy. She knew that young people needed space and let her son have his; she didn't monitor Steve's every move. He often went out with friends and only came back the next day, if he came back the next day at all.

But that was before, before Hawkins became the closest thing on earth to a gate to hell and had a body count of teenage dead as high as something out of a macabre horror movie. Before the mall caught fire with her son inside and she cried for hours listening to the news, not knowing if the only person she still loved in life was alive.

Without knowing if she hadn't lost the only remaining part of the closest thing she had ever come to happiness and love.

After that, nothing was ever the same. She knew it was irrational, but she needed to know where her son was, she needed to know that he was safe and breathing, so that she could continue breathing too.

She knocked on his bedroom door once, there was no answer, she knocked a second time, there was no answer either. She hated entering without knocking, because if her son was with a girlfriend, that was definitely a line she didn't want to cross, but after knocking a third time and getting no answer, she turned the doorknob and opened just a crack to check if he was in bed.

Something that made her eyes widen instantly when she saw the perfectly smooth sheets and realized he wasn't there. It was as if ice ran down her spine and settled in her stomach, and she didn't even go to the main phone, she just picked up the one in Steve's room and called a number she already knew by then: the house of Robin Buckley, her son's best friend.

Just a few minutes of conversation with Melissa Buckley was enough for her to discover that both Steve and Robin were at the Wheeler family home doing God knows what, but she didn't need to know, she would find out the information personally very soon, when she ripped her son's ears off for worrying her like that.

⋆˙‧☽ ◯ ☾‧˙⋆

"Mom, everything's alright..." Steve murmured, a little embarrassed, a few minutes later, hugging his mother back while still keeping an eye on the younger ones who, even in the critical situation, were discreetly laughing at the scene his mother had created.

"As far as I could tell this morning, the Wheelers still have a phone at home, Steve Harrington!" She scolded her son with a subtle fury in her voice that made his ears tickle as she gestured angrily. "I don't mind you running all over town, but I've asked you a million times not to disappear and leave me wondering where you are!"

"I'm sorry, Mom..." Steve scratched his head, feeling his heart ache slightly at the sight of his mother's worried eyes. "I'm really sorry... I swear I won't do it again." He hugged her while saying a silent prayer, asking that he could keep that promise to his mother.

"I'm sorry too, my dear..." She sighed, gently caressing her son's handsome face with her thumbs. "It's just that... I love you too much, darling. I can't lose you too."

"You won't lose me, I'm tough." Steve shrugged confidently. "Ask Henderson." He tilted his head toward the boy, making his mother roll her eyes and turn to the younger children.

"Are you all alright, dears?" She smiled affectionately at the three of them after stepping away from her son, frowning slightly at the lost and frightened look on Max's face, who was usually so full of life. "Karen told me you're all a little shaken by everything that's happened."

"I think it affected the whole city." Lucas replied in a more serious voice than usual, making her smile and want to hug the boy Sinclair who, in her view, always seemed more responsible than any young person his age could dream of being.

"Everything will be alright." She assured them the same thing she used to assure herself, looking in the direction of the three of them. "You'll see."

⋆˙‧☽ ◯ ☾‧˙⋆

As if he were right there in that room, Henry could see everything through Max's eyes, all those foolish children plotting against him as if they had any chance of stopping him. As if anyone in that damned room could do anything to thwart their plans.

They were all hiding in the Wheeler family's basement. Acting as if that would stop him if he wanted to kill them all at once with just a snap of his fingers.

Maxine's mind was even more confused than before, frightened, fearing death, yet still desiring it because she felt she deserved it. He could attack her now. Kill her right there in front of everyone, just to reaffirm his own power, to terrify them.

And Henry was really thinking about doing that when suddenly the basement door opened and she came down the stairs. For a moment, the heart that he didn't even know was still beating in his chest seemed to stop.

Her appearance had changed, her clothes were different, more mature, more... adult. But her face, to Henry, seemed not to have aged a single day since the last time. She seemed as petulant and spoiled as she had always seemed, barging into the basement of that house as if it were hers, her heels stomping furiously against the floor, her nose slightly wrinkled with rage as she walked towards that damned Harrington boy.

It was there, seeing her embracing that boy and caressing his face with all the tenderness she could muster through Max's eyes, that the painful realization dawned on Henry.

His lost girl had actually married the pathetic and imbecilic Danny Harrington and reproduced with him.

That sudden glimmer in his heart vanished instantly, replaced by an incandescent fury that made the lights in the Wheeler house flicker as a thin trickle of blood ran down Max's nose, which she discreetly wiped away.

And now she was there, rubbing in Henry's face the perfectly pathetic and happy life she had built for herself without him. Without needing him. Without missing him.

At that exact moment, the main light in the basement exploded, sending small shards of thin glass flying everywhere as everyone screamed and flinched at the sound. But among everyone in the room, the only person Henry focused his gaze on was her, who was still giving that same cute little jump and placing her soft hand over her heart when startled.

But she didn't do that when she was nestled against his chest after the peak of passion; she would only curl up gently and sigh against his chest, as if he were protection and not the cause of fear incarnate.

Henry didn't want to think about it anymore. He didn't want to remember her anymore. But he needed to put an end to this whole story. He wanted to hurt her as much as she was hurting him. He needed to see her suffer too.

It was there that the first idea arose; he could sacrifice her precious son with Harrington in place of Max. Judging by her words upon arriving, this would likely destroy her. However, just a brief glimpse into the boy's mind made Henry realize that even in his worst moments, he was still too confident and extremely attached to life for him to shatter him, in addition to possessing an abnormally strong mental defense that seemed to repel him.

So, Henry would go to plan B. He would hunt her down and torture her personally. His plan might suffer some delays if it meant a quick reckoning with that bitch who smiled so beautifully at those damned children in that damned basement.

⋆˙‧☽ ◯ ☾‧˙⋆

The house was empty. Steve had stayed at the Wheelers', Danny was away on a business trip and wouldn't be back for a few days. She was completely alone, but that had become a familiar feeling, and yet the silence often came with unpleasant sensations.

Trying to relax her body, she took a warm bath and before going to bed reached for the bottle of sleeping pills she used regularly, but to her initial shock, the bottle was completely empty. Slowly, the realization that in the hustle and bustle of the day she had forgotten to buy a new bottle dawned on her.

"Damn it..." She groaned softly, entwining her right hand in her hair and closing her eyes tightly. As late as it was, she would never find the damned medicine now.

Her thoughts suddenly became jumbled as she considered the night to come; she hated the disturbing dreams that plagued her when she was without her medication. Dreams that seemed to mix real memories with invented terrors designed solely to drive her insane.

In an attempt to at least soothe her uncontrollable thoughts in the midst of sleep, she drank a steaming cup of valerian tea. Perhaps it would do something for her. Perhaps the day's weariness that overwhelmed her body, combined with the bitter, strong tea of the calming root, would ward off the nightmares and painful visions.

That's not what happened.

That night, whether because of all the chaos in the city or for whatever reason, her nightmares were only more terrifying.

⋆˙‧☽ ◯ ☾‧˙⋆

Henry kept his gaze on her all day, momentarily almost forgetting about Maxine and how important the girl was to his plans. That's what he had to remember. What was truly important, the plan, the domination. And not a woman who shouldn't even remember his existence.

But if the priority was supposed to be the plan, then why was it so difficult to focus on anything else after the moment he saw her again? Henry had no answer for that. It was then that, deep in his mind, his idea of revenge flashed again, so incandescent it seemed red, and consumed by rage he continued to follow her.

Henry could see her every move as she walked through that ugly, ridiculously large house. He still remembered her murmuring against his bare chest one afternoon about how much she would hate living in a house as big as the one her parents lived in. That it would be unbearable for her to endure such loneliness.

Liar.

That little word floated in his mind, filled with poison. After all, it was all a lie. She was a walking lie. Always saying she liked him, always whispering sweet lies in Henry's ears, only to rip out his heart and crush it when she finally felt like it.

She was probably the closest Henry would ever get to the devil, whatever anyone said about him, he could be many things, but at least he wasn't a liar.

Henry watched her lie down on the bed and toss and turn, closing her eyes in an attempt to relax. Minutes passed, but she seemed unable to sleep; a bitter taste filled his mouth at the thought that perhaps she missed her beloved husband.

It didn't matter. Henry would kill him in the most painful way possible as soon as he found him, and he would make sure to savor every drop of that moment.

In what seemed like hours later, her breathing began to grow heavy. The perfect moment had arrived, and with a smile that was pure malice, Henry penetrated her mind, sinking as deep as he could go.

Suddenly he felt himself plummeting into a terrifying vortex of uncontrolled, disorganized thoughts and memories. Nothing there seemed to make sense, and suddenly Henry's head ached from the sheer number of sounds swirling in her mind.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes, pressed them shut, and concentrated, trying to pinpoint a single memory, something that seemed peaceful enough for him to focus on. The vortex slowly dissipated, and little by little, soft green grass emerged beneath Henry's feet, along with trees and colorful flowers.

He slowly looked around, feeling his stomach churn. Because he knew that place, but no, this couldn't be. And as if to demoralize him, a sound he hadn't heard in years bubbled through the fresh, sunny air of his memory. The sound of his own laughter, which he had even forgotten how it sounded.

Henry's gaze drifted to the meadow, and he finally contemplated the memory of which he was a part.

She lay amidst the meadow flowers, smiling beautifully and gazing at him, caressing his face and showering him with those damned tender kisses that made his skin sting and burn wherever her lips touched.

It was calm. Gentle. Henry knew what was coming next. A torrential summer rain would pour down from the sky, but the two of them wouldn't leave. They would stay there, under the violent sky, exchanging caresses and kisses amidst smiles and laughter.

There had to be some mistake.

There was absolutely no possibility that this was the most peaceful memory she had. It was just a silly memory from twenty years ago. There was no way she was seeking comfort and tranquility there. It simply wasn't.

The first drops of rain began to fall, and Henry could hear her joyful cry echoing across the meadow. At that exact moment, he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to escape that memory as quickly as possible.

What came next didn't look much better. In fact, it resembled a vision of hell itself.

"You're going to come in and you're going to smile!" Her mother's voice sounded more like a hiss, and Henry could see the moment she shrank back before the older woman.

"Mom, please..." Her voice sounded in a plea, but was immediately cut off.

"Shut up!" rang the louder voice of the woman who glared at her furiously. "Do you think I don't know about your indiscretions? Do you think that in a short time the whole city won't know what you did?" Her mother whispered the words in a threatening tone that sounded like a scream.

"You're not going to drag our family name through the mud for some foolish boy who isn't even here anymore to do anything for you. Son of a murderer!" Her mother took two steps forward, appearing to be three meters tall, so imposing and frightening was she.

"Don't talk about him like that!" She raised her voice, suddenly furious and challenging her, but this was followed by a resounding slap that echoed through the room and caused her face to snap to the side from the impact.

"I already told you to shut up!" Her mother growled through clenched teeth, her hand still outstretched after slapping her. "You're going to do what I say, and you're going to do it with a smile if you don't want to end up on the street with a full belly!"

Henry's blood boiled in his veins, and if this wasn't a memory, he would tear out that woman's damned, wicked eyes. Without him making a single movement, the memory blurred, and a dimly lit, grey-looking corridor appeared. Filled with people standing on both sides, it took Henry a few moments to realize he was in Hawkins church, because she seemed so sad and somber in that memory that he barely recognized her.

He turned around, and that's when he saw her. She was as beautiful as an apparition, dressed in a very expensive-looking white dress and with an immense pearl necklace adorning her neck, but with a glazed look in her eyes, a look so sad that it made Henry's stomach churn.

Step by step he watched in horror as she married Danny Harrington, looking as happy to be there as if she were in a queue waiting to have her guts ripped out.

The memories suddenly became jumbled. So hazy that Henry could barely see an inch in front of him through the fog. He could hear her yelling at her mother again, and he saw her ripping the expensive necklace from her neck, making a mess of pearls on the floor. He saw her kneel hidden on the church floor and cry, clinging to the altar while everyone celebrated the wedding outside.

He heard her pronounce his name between broken sobs.

Henry.

Just Henry.

His head ached, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't organize her thoughts. Her mind seemed as agitated as a stormy sea, waves crashing in all directions, bringing voices and images without context, and he could barely focus to understand any of them.

Squinting, Henry tried to focus, and slowly the senseless mess transformed into a dark hallway with closed doors, which he recognized as the hallway of the house where she lived with Harrington.

Slowly he reached for the doorknob and turned it, instantly consumed by rage at the sight behind that damned door. Danny Harrington lay on top of her on the bed, her brow furrowed and eyebrows arched. At that moment, Henry felt he could destroy everything in his path, caring nothing else in the world, but then, something happened.

She closed her eyes, pressing them tightly, and little by little, the image of Danny Harrington began to blur, until it disappeared and was completely replaced by the image of Henry.

He could hardly believe his eyes. It was his image above her, with an animalistic look, murmuring the same things he used to murmur when the two of them fucked secretly in any secluded place they could find. Henry could see her stiff face gently relax, and then the realization finally dawned on him.

She thought of him when she slept with Harrington. She thought of him so that it would be at least somewhat bearable to sleep with the other man.

Damn him. Damn that wretch Harrington for daring to touch her.

Just as before, that memory slowly became blurry, and he could see her sitting alone in the living room sewing what appeared to be a shirt with a spaceship design. Her gaze seemed distant and vacant as her hands worked on the project, which seemed meticulously planned.

Suddenly, the sound of small footsteps filled the room, and the vacant look on her face was replaced, almost immediately, by that warm smile he hadn't seen her display in virtually any of her memories until now.

"Mommy!" the blond boy shouted, jumping onto the sofa and hugging her, causing her to promptly drop everything to embrace him.

"What is it, my love?" She laughed, kissing his hair and stroking his back.

"There was a deer near the fence!" He shouted excitedly, and her smile grew even wider.

Her eyes shone with tenderness as she admired the little boy, and Henry didn't know what to feel watching the scene. Something churned in the pit of his stomach seeing her there with that child, the boy who was deliberately plotting his death along with the self-centered friends he had made.

He had seen that same gleam in her eyes while talking to his son in the Wheeler basement. Suddenly interrupting Henry's train of thought, the floor of the room opened up, causing him to fall uncontrollably.

He tried to grab onto something, but it wasn't necessary. Just as the ground had disappeared, it returned beneath his feet, but now he was in a familiar place. A place that was also part of his memories too.

The janitor's closet on the second floor of Hawkins High.

It was dark and stuffy, and he could clearly hear her moans of pleasure, begging his name in abandon, gasping as she threw her hips back against his, completely out of control.

Henry's mouth went dry. She looked glorious, losing control amidst the climax as she begged his name. The exact instant he found himself ejaculating inside her, the flickering yellow light of the closet exploded simultaneously, and he heard her sharp, startled cry echo as the room once again dissolved into thick, dark fog.

Henry didn't understand the connection between the memories, or the reason for returning to that moment. At that instant, he was trying to understand why on earth her mind was working in such a confused way, while another scenario slowly formed around him.

A white, cold, and impersonal room. Henry didn't know where that place was, but he knew what it was, having been confined long enough in the hospital environment of the Hawkins laboratory under Brenner's care.

That's when he saw her; she was sitting alone with her knees drawn up close to her face, tears streaming down her cheeks, which she wiped away on the hem of her navy blue skirt. Henry knew that skirt; he loved lifting the soft fabric up her legs as he caressed her.

That memory was ancient, as old as the janitor's closet, since she still wore the same clothes and hairstyles Henry remembered from school, even though the arrogant and impetuous look was far from her tearful eyes now. He took slow steps toward the armchair where she was sobbing, and with a furrowed brow picked up the crumpled paper that had slipped from her fingers and landed on the floor.

The words were stained with tears, but Henry could still read the name of Indianapolis General Hospital followed by the coat of arms. Just below was her name, but it wasn't her family name below, much less Harrington's. It was his. Creel was written on that paper, as if it were absolute truth and not just something invented.

Henry's hands trembled as his eyes scanned the paper, a detailed blood test, but with particular emphasis on one thing: hCG. A result followed by a single word that lingered menacingly on the page.

Positive.

Suddenly he felt sick to his stomach. The room seemed to spin around him, and this time it wasn't the fog of shifting thoughts and memories. The date on the paper confirmed his assumptions; it had happened about a month before her wedding.

A month had passed since he was declared dead and buried forever in that damned laboratory, like a test subject. The pieces slowly fell into place, making Henry's stomach boil with pure hatred as he crumpled the paper between his fingers, watching her cry, clutching her still-flat stomach.

She hadn't reproduced with Danny Harrington. She had reproduced with him.

⋆˙‧☽ ◯ ☾‧˙⋆

A/n²: I hope you enjoyed it, let me know if you want more parts, suggestions are welcome if you want more of this story :)

The pale, cold moonlight flooded Creel House, making the night seem brighter and more welcoming. The silvery glow illuminated the bed, casting a ghostly light over Henry's body, and over hers.

Damp sounds permeated the entire room, making her face flush with embarrassment at every movement she made on his body.

"That's it, my dear..." Henry murmured, holding her hips firmly and guiding her into a slow, steady ride on his cock.

"Am I... am I doing this right, Henry?" She gasped, feeling her thighs tremble, but without ceasing to move against him as she gasped for breath with pleasure.

"You're doing it perfectly..." Henry rolled his eyes and gave an encouraging smile, looking slightly breathless. "Going so well, my dear."

"Henry..." She whimpered tearfully, trying to maintain the movements, but little by little she was losing the strength to continue.

"It's okay, love..." Henry moved his hands to her waist. "You're getting so good at riding practice..." He gasped, squeezing her waist and making her moan. "Just look at you, my dear... getting such shapely and strong legs for me..."

Without warning, he grabbed her thighs and threw her onto the sheets, making a soft cry escape her lips. Smiling maliciously, Henry thrust firmly against her tight, moist folds, making her scream and dig her nails into his shoulders.

She had developed a special fondness for this training, even though she wasn't that good yet and always ended up losing strength near the end, forcing Henry to climb on top of her and fuck her until she cried out his name.

"Henry..." She gasped in despair near the end, by this point barely hearing the voices of guilt that months ago had screamed at the top of their lungs in her mind, but which now, with Henry's cock invading her so deeply, seemed like mere background noise.

"That's right..." Henry murmured against her ear, biting and sucking on her earlobe as he fucked her with abandon, feeling his own legs tremble with lust. "Give it to me, my love..."

Obediently, she came against his cock, milking it and pulling Henry into overwhelming pleasure with her, making him spill deep inside her warm, welcoming interior, while he clung to her as tightly as a parasitic vine clung to its host.

"You were so good to me today, my love," Henry murmured moments later, caressing her face, which was still warm and breathless with pleasure.

"Now I want you to kneel and thank for being safe from those shadows and monsters." He purred with hidden ulterior motives as he stroked her chin with his thumb.

As always, she obediently got out of bed, her legs still feeling shaky, and knelt on the floor at the foot of the bed to give thanks. Slowly, Henry's semen, mixed with her own fluids, began to trickle from her pussy and drip onto the wooden floor, leaving the white drops evident against the brown tone of the aged wood of the Creel house.

Her face flushed with shame and her trembling legs almost gave way, but still she didn't move, she wouldn't move until Henry said it was enough. More pearly drops dripped from her onto the floor, causing Henry to smile in admiration, relishing the sight of his own semen running down her beautiful thighs.

"Very well, darling, that's enough." He smiled and beckoned her back to bed with a quick gesture of his hand, making her jump rapidly onto the rumpled, warm sheets, already seeking to snuggle against Henry's soft, warm body.

"Henry, can I ask you something?" She murmured against his chest after taking a deep breath and gathering her courage, while feeling her cheeks growing hot.

"Of course you can..." He sighed, caressing her bare shoulder with his fingertips and kissing her hair. "You can ask anything you want."

"Okay then..." She took a deep breath before beginning. "It's not that I don't trust or believe in you..." She assured him of that before anything else. "But I've been here for so long..." She sighed, looking up at him through her eyelashes. "And I still don't understand how what we do, what I do, keeps the world and my family safe."

"Oh, my sweet girl..." Henry smiled, drawing soft circles on her back that made her skin tingle. "Always underestimating your own worth." He shook his head at her.

"Do you know who keeps the world safe from those horrible creatures?" He murmured with a lopsided smile as he gently held her chin. "Who stops them from invading everything you love so much?"

"You, Henry." She answered without hesitation the instant he asked the question, looking him in the eyes and clinging even tighter to him.

"Exactly, my dear." He smiled as he ran his thumb up and down her smooth jaw. "And who keeps me happy and willing to continue maintaining order in the world?"

Her face suddenly turned red, and she looked away from Henry, burying her face in his chest with a shy smile.

"It's you, my love..." He sighed against her fragrant hair. "You keep me happy." He kissed her temple. "Keep me satisfied." He sighed, nibbling at the nape of her neck. "By being such a good girl and letting me have everything I want, whenever I want it." Henry smoothed the still-moist folds of her vulva with the tips of his index and middle fingers, feeling his own pleasure mingling with hers.

Slowly he raised his hand and brought it to her lips, which, without hesitation, she sucked and licked the mixture of the two from the tips of Henry's fingers while staring at him, blushing, causing him to grunt and pull her into a wet, slow kiss that made them both tremble.

"I trained you so well, didn't I?" Henry gasped against her lips as he broke the kiss, feeling crazy from the unique taste they were sharing.

"Yes, Henry." She nodded, still breathless, but already leaning forward in search of more kisses, which he gladly gave, because it wasn't in his nature to deny pleasure to his sweet girl, and she, even if inadvertently, loved every second of it.

The following morning she felt tired and weak, but she could still feel the shivers of pleasure as she remembered Henry's touches. If only he would marry her, all this wouldn't seem so bad, but it seemed very selfish of her to ask Henry for something so big when he was the one doing her a favor, not the other way around.

"Will you be long today, Henry?" she asked a few minutes later, sitting on the wooden kitchen counter with him positioned between her legs, gently caressing her thighs in a smooth up-and-down motion.

"I don't really know, my dear." He sighed sadly, looking at her from under his eyelashes, appearing tired behind his glasses. "There's a creature causing trouble, and I need to resolve it, keep everyone safe, just as I promised you..."

"You're so good, Henry." She sighed, gazing back at him with enchantment, caressing his face with her fingertips. "So kind to take care of everyone."

Henry's eyes seemed so dark at that moment, as dark as when he was training her, and for a moment she thought he would have her there, on the counter, before leaving, something she wouldn't have objected to if he wanted. But that wasn't what happened that morning; he simply ran his hand through her hair and kissed her so deeply that she would have fallen if she hadn't been sitting down.

She had come to hate the days when Henry had to leave for long hours; after all, without him, the Creel house became lonely and empty. But she made an effort to leave everything perfectly presentable to welcome him back.

That afternoon she had decided to make a special dinner for the two of them; she was so absorbed in choosing the ingredients that she barely heard the front door open. She only noticed the intruder who had dared to invade her house when the girl was already on the other side of the kitchen counter, staring at her.

"You need to come with me!" The strange-looking, messy-haired redhead whispered in a mixture of fear and anticipation as she pulled her by the hand, causing her brow to furrow in confusion.

"Who are you?" she asked, feeling her stomach churn with fear as she tried to pull her hand away from the strange girl. "How did you get into my house?"

"Look, I know you're confused." The redhead hissed through gritted teeth, turning toward her with wide eyes. "But maybe... and that's a big maybe." She rambled on, rolling her eyes. "If you and I get out of here and find El, we can still fix all this mess."

"I don't even know who you are!" She pulled her hand away from the younger girl's reach, trying not to be rude, but not wanting to get too close to the stranger who had invaded her home.

"Listen..." She murmured, taking a deep breath and trying to sound confident as she spoke to the redhead. "You seem to be having some trouble." She smiled sadly, taking a step forward now, trying to appear supportive. "I can't help you, but my... Henry will be here soon and he'll know what to do..."

She had barely finished speaking when the girl's blue eyes widened in terror and she lunged at her again, trying to grab her, but this time without success, as she took a step back, immediately getting out of reach.

"No! Not him!" she pleaded in panic, leaning forward and clenching her fists. "Henry can't know I'm here!"

As soon as those words echoed through the room, it was as if a bright red alarm had been triggered in her mind, and cautiously she took two slow steps back without taking her eyes off the girl, fearing she would lose sight of her if she did.

"Why can't Henry know?" She murmured softly, now a few feet away from the girl, far enough that she had to strain to hear and take a few moments to answer.

"Because it's all his fault!" the girl roared furiously, rolling her eyes and leaning back. "He's keeping us here while he destroys the world down there, day after day!"

"You are one of the dark creatures..." She murmured, frightened, taking slow steps backward, trying to leave the kitchen for a room where she could lock herself in, while groping on the counter for something to defend herself with.

"What?" The supposed girl glared at her furiously, taking a step forward and making her back away even further. "I'm nothing that, Henry is!"

In a desperate attempt to escape with her life, she grabbed the thick iron pot where she was going to make dinner and threw it at the girl, who let out a sharp scream trying to dodge, which was enough time for her to run as fast as her legs could carry her towards the attic.

"Come back here!" the girl shouted, chasing her down the stairs. "I need you! You're the key!"

"Henry!" She began screaming his name in despair as she continued running. "Henry, help me!" Her voice sounded terrified in a way she had never heard before.

In her desperation, she looked back for the strange girl without stopping running, but saw nothing over her shoulder. However, too busy looking back, she didn't see what was in front of her, and a scream of pure despair escaped her lips as she collided with a stiff body in the middle of the path.

At that same instant, she writhed in despair and screamed Henry's name, while feeling two strong hands grabbing her, but as soon as she turned to properly face whoever was attacking her, she didn't find the redhead girl, but rather Henry staring at her worriedly while holding her.

It was as if pure relief washed over her, and without hesitation, she threw herself into his arms in a tearful embrace, while deeply breathing in the soothing scent of his cologne.

"Dear, what..." She didn't even let Henry finish speaking before unloading the whole thing on him.

"There was a girl here!" She stared at him, terrified. "She wanted to take me somewhere else with her and was making up lies about you, Henry!" She whimpered, clinging even tighter to his brown coat. "I didn't know what to do, so I ran and called you..." She murmured the other words quickly, and for a moment she felt so cowardly that her skin burned with shame.

"Hey, my dear, what's this?" Henry murmured against her ear, gently stroking her back. "You did everything right. Just like I instructed you before..." He kissed the top of her head.

"Did you see how great you were at running today, darling?" He smiled, looking into her eyes and gently stroking the side of her face with the back of his hand. "If you weren't so dedicated every night, you wouldn't be able to run so well now..." Henry murmured in her ear, making her smile.

"Thank you, Henry." She sighed, leaning into his touch, feeling her cheeks burn as she clung to the warm safety of his arms.

"Who was that girl?" she finally asked a few moments later when she was calmer.

"That's not a girl." Henry sighed, tracing soft circles on her hips with his thumbs. "She pretends to be one to deceive people. She's one of the worst kinds of demon." His deep, husky voice made her shudder as she thought of the creature that had pursued her earlier.

"They already know about you, darling." He murmured, looking intently into her eyes, almost a breath away. "They know you're the one who keeps me strong enough to take them down." Henry smiled, brushing his lips against hers. "And that's why they want to take you away from me. To weaken me so I can't stop them from taking over the world."

She felt a prickling sensation on her skin at the sound of those words. The girl... no, the demon, was there to deceive her. She wanted to pit her against Henry and take her with her to cause destruction, just to affect him.

"No one will ever be able to fool me, Henry," she murmured against his neck without releasing him from the embrace. "Not about you!" she assured him, burying her face in his shoulder and rubbing her nose against it. "Because I will always trust your word."

"Oh, my obedient girl..." Henry smiled fiercely, holding her hips possessively, making her sigh. "Always so good and loyal..." He sighed, biting her shoulder. "You deserve a reward."

"What kind, Henry?" She smiled curiously, clinging to his shoulders as she felt his gentle bite.

"I'm going to give you your favorite training today, my dear." He murmured against her neck, sending shivers down her spine. "Physical stamina."

That night, Henry fell between her thighs and took her between his lips until she was tearful and breathless, making him revel in every disjointed sound that escaped her lips as he caressed every inch of her with his greedy tongue, making her pussy gush against his mouth.

"You can rest easy, my dear," Henry murmured hoarsely, still between her legs as he left a wet kiss, moistened by pussy fluids, against her belly, looking at her through his eyelashes with pupils so dilated they seemed black.

"I will destroy that damned demon and what remains of his followers before any of them can bother you again." He seemed fierce there, showering her with wet, ferocious kisses while uttering threats like a hunter, but still, she couldn't feel fear. She felt only gratitude, she felt only protected by him.

"Thank you, Henry..." She gasped tremulously, rolling her eyes and parting her lips in an "o" when she finally felt him penetrating his cock deep into her pussy, already sensitive from the previous caresses.

"Thank you for what, my dear?" Henry growled softly in her ear, grabbing her thighs and pulling her close as he thrust firmly into her wet, warm interior with a maniacal look in his eyes.

"For... protecting me..." She whimpered, closing her eyes and clinging to his back. "For..." She couldn't contain herself and moaned his name in a way that seemed so profane it made her body burn with shame. "For protecting my... family." She mewed the words, feeling dizzy and on the edge of the precipice. "For... protecting the world..."

Amidst her words, Henry came deeply inside her, as she pressed the walls of her pussy against his cock on her way to climax, in an almost suffocating way, drawing him into pleasure as if she were made for it.

Her sweet moans and pleas were like fuel to him; the pleasure that gushed from her thighs energized him. She was everything Henry needed to continue ruling the world, and he would destroy anyone who tried to take her from his domain.

"Thank you, my dear..." He rubbed his nose against her neck and murmured breathlessly after realizing she had collapsed into a deep sleep under the sheets after her orgasm. "For being such a good catalyst for me..."

N/a²: Leave your comments ;)

Staying at the Creel house with her mother's friends was, to say the least,... curious. She had come to town to do community service and earn college application hours. And the Creels, being kind people and very close friends of her mother, had welcomed her, since their eldest son, Henry, was also in his senior year and going through the same things, so they understood.

She had arrived two weeks ago and everyone in the house treated her very well; Mr. and Mrs. Creel were lovely, and little Alice was simply the kindest girl in the world. Everything was great, except for the Creel's eldest son, Henry.

He never seemed to speak to her directly, always watching her from the corners, just as he watched everything and everyone, like a predator lurking. Sometimes she felt her skin crawl, and then when she turned around he was staring at her from somewhere, as if he were reading her mind.

Which, incidentally, would be terrible, since as disturbing as Henry Creel was, he was still the most handsome guy she had ever laid eyes on in her life. Neatly combed blond hair, enchanting blue eyes, a perfectly chiseled face that would make any girl sigh.

If she hadn't been living with him for the past few days, she would have been intrigued by the reason he didn't have a girlfriend, but living together made her understand the reasons well; he hardly spoke to anyone, always quiet and isolated. This, in addition to his other strange habits of looking at people as if they were a terrible nuisance.

But that didn't stop her from dreaming about him every night, clinging to the covers in the Creel's guest room. At first, they were just ordinary dreams, blurred faces, random scenes, everything perfectly innocent. Until they weren't anymore.

She didn't know what had changed, she only knew that one day, suddenly, those dreams changed and became something much more vivid.

It was as if she could feel Henry Creel's hands on her body, could feel his fingers teasing her clitoris until her pussy was soaked with lust. It was almost as if the touches and pinches on her sensitive nipples were real and not just a dream. She could almost feel the burning sensation of being filled in her own pussy when she woke up every day.

The biggest problem was facing Henry and his family at the breakfast table the next day, knowing she had dreamt about him doing all sorts of inappropriate things to her. She felt so confused, she didn't know where these thoughts were coming from; she had always been a good girl, of high character and respect.

She didn't let the boys touch her like she knew some of the bolder girls did. And she didn't even read those magazines full of dirty nonsense that some of her friends read. She had flipped through some of them a few times, to be honest, but nothing that would suddenly transform her into a freak who had those kinds of dreams about the son of the family that was hosting her!

In an act of desperation,after a particularly steamy dream where Henry, with his lips between her thighs, was drinking everything there was to drink from her pussy, which caused her to wake up with the sheets wet beneath her, she went to the market and bought chamomile and lemon balm, the perfect ingredients to make a tea that would surely bring her a more peaceful and calmer sleep.

Except that it didn't help, it only made things worse.

That night she fell into bed earlier than usual, feeling weak and sleepy from the calming tea, and the dreams seemed to dominate even more strongly, with images so vivid that Henry seemed to be in the room above her.

In her other dreams, she experienced only sensations combined with vivid flashes of his face and intimate parts of his body that she had never seen, neither his nor any other man's.

But in this dream it was different. Everything was even more vivid than usual. It was as if Henry's predatory eyes were face to face with hers, and she could feel his breath against her own skin. She could see everything with such clarity that it seemed almost real.

Just like in her other dreams, she moaned softly and uncontrollably under his touches. Feeling her own pussy tighten as he kissed and sucked her soft neck while using his hands to play with her nipples, pinching them followed by gentle massages with his fingertips that made her eyes roll back and her thighs clench with lust.

"Are you enjoying this, my dear?" Henry purred in a voice so husky and deep that it made her moan and rub against his bare thigh while nodding her head affirmatively.

"Yeah?" He chuckled wickedly against her skin, still sensitive from the kisses on her neck, as he let her rub herself needily against his thigh. "This greedy pussy needs some attention?" Henry growled, rubbing his thigh against hers back while nibbling at her neck.

She should say no. She should scream. She should hit him, push him, and try to run as far away from that room as possible. But just like on other nights, this was a dream, and there was no harm in enjoying it, even if her conscience would ache the next morning when she faced poor Henry, knowing the kind of filthy things her subconscious was projecting onto him.

And it was thinking about this that she nodded affirmatively while biting her lower lip and staring at him with need, tears welling in her eyes.

"Oh my dear, you look so sweet like this..." Henry smiled, slowly caressing her thighs, so close to where she needed to be touched, but without touching her there. "But I want you to tell me in words."

"I can't, Henry..." she murmured breathlessly, still trying to rub against him for relief.

"Why not?" He laughed mockingly, slowly caressing the upper part of her vulva, so close to her clitoris that if his fingers went down an inch he would take her to heaven. "Afraid of becoming a dirty girl if you tell me what you need?"

"Please..." She sighed, trying to lift her hips toward his hand, only making him laugh and continue caressing that same spot that sent shivers of arousal all over her body, but nothing more than that.

"So tell me, my dear..." He murmured, kissing her jawline down to her ear. "It's so, so simple..." He smiled against her ear, murmuring the words hoarsely, making her almost writhe on the bed. "Just say: Henry, please, give a little attention to my wet, greedy pussy." Saying those words, he pressed his fingers a little lower, so close to where she wanted it that it almost made her scream. "And I will."

"Henry..." She whimpered, clutching the arms of the man who had slowly trailed kisses down her neck until he reached her erect nipples, which he was now sucking and licking hungrily, making her want to scream.

"Yes, babe... say it..." He groaned against her nipple, making her writhe uncontrollably. "Say it to me, go on..."

"Henry, please..." She moaned tearfully, leaning closer to him, her body and mind completely out of control. The only thing she could think about was pleasure. "Give me a little..." She gasped, throwing her head back between words as she felt him gently bite her right nipple. "Give me a little attention..." She swallowed hard and bit her lip before speaking. "...to my wet, greedy pussy."

As soon as the words left her lips, Henry's long fingers invaded her tight, moist folds in a single stroke, making her cry out softly and lift her hips toward him, causing him to smile arrogantly and curl his fingers inside her, making her tremble even more.

"See how good it is when you ask politely?" He smiled, fingering her needy pussy and making her nod profusely while tears of lust moistened her eyes. "Words, dear. Words..." He sighed, squeezing her clitoris with the heel of his hand and making tight circles while continuing to finger her.

"Yes, Henry! Yes!" She pleaded, thrusting her hips harder against his hand and feeling herself on the edge of a precipice, longing for the moment she would fall from there.

"That's it, babe, I love your sweet voice." Henry grunted hoarsely, violently fucking her pussy with his fingers and making her squirt against his fingers while she trembled uncontrollably, murmuring incoherent things between sighs of Henry's name.

"Do you want my cock fucking your tight hot pussy?" Henry whispered in her ear as she whimpered and spasming with pleasure feeling even more out of her mind as he gently ran his fingers over the sensitive lips of her trembling pussy.

It was a dream. It wasn't real. He couldn't hurt her or take anything from her for real. That was what she said every night before willingly opening her legs for Henry. And just like in her previous dreams, she nodded, trembling with anticipation to feel his cock hitting that specific spot deep inside her, a spot he only seemed to reach when he fucked her roughly, making her scream.

"Yes, Henry..." She sighed, rubbing her wet pussy against his hand as she shuddered. "I want to."

"Such a nice guest for me..." Henry growled as he brushed the bulbous head of his cock against her hungry pussy. "Maybe you should stay here forever..." His voice sounded inhuman and guttural as he thrust his cock into her, opening it wide and causing her to grip his back, moaning his name in abandonment. "Letting me fuck this cunt like this every night..."

The wet sounds filled the room, the wet slaps of Henry's skin against hers made her stomach clench in a thin line of arousal that felt like it was about to burst. His dirty words of dominance as he senselessly used her body made her pussy tighten around his cock like a vise.

With his right hand, Henry held her hips firmly, giving her a better boost to continue thrusting so well in that way, but with his left... he explored her entire soft body, moving up her stomach to squeeze her breasts and then, moving up to grab her neck in a subtle squeeze that made her lips part in a perfect "o" as she gasped for air and felt Henry fucking her faster and faster, always hitting the right spots.

"You know what, my dear?" Henry placed both hands on the mattress leaned forward to murmur hoarsely against her ear, while thrusting hard and precise into her pussy. "Before you stepped into this house, I thought this was pure nonsense..." He laughed crudely and breathlessly. "Just stupid, useless human needs."

"But now..." Henry sighed, biting her neck and thrusting so deeply that she saw stars and wrapped her legs around his hips. "I finally understand..." he murmured, thrusting harder and harder, making her eyes roll back in pleasure. "That reproduction can be the best part of humanity."

With those words, feeling her pussy writhing around his cock while tears of pure pleasure streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks, Henry came deep inside her with an animalistic grunt that made her skin crawl as she felt her own ecstasy tearing through her body and leaving her breathless.

Her body seemed to have stopped responding; it was as if there were no bones left inside her, only soft, gelatinous flesh. The only firm thing seemed to be Henry's body, which lay slumped and panting on top of her, still filling her, even if softened, while she still held him against her with her legs crossed over his hips.

In none of her other dreams had she felt like this. She had never felt such intense and debilitating pleasure as this; she could barely move, and at that moment she didn't care much about that, only about the delicious tremors that seemed like they would never stop running through her body.

Henry's head was buried between her breasts, leaving only his soft, blond hair visible, and even after all that, she could still feel him gently nibbling at her nipples, only prolonging the delicious tremors and spasms throughout her body.

Amidst all that flurry of sensations, the last thing she managed to see before the dream ended were Henry's blue eyes staring at her mischievously as he finally lifted his head from the comfortable space he had found between her breasts. And then... everything vanished.

` ○°•●•°°•●•°○

The next day dawned with the sun flooding her room with warm, bright rays. She could barely open her eyes, feeling her body strangely heavy and aching, while a salty smell of sweat permeated the air.

The memories of the previous night's dream began to return to her in an intense profusion that almost took her breath away. The words, the touches, the pleasure...

Still with her vision blurred by sleep, she slowly moved in bed, suddenly feeling a subtle burning sensation between her legs that made her gasp. At the same instant, she opened her eyes completely, looking around the room startled, but finding not a single speck of dust out of place.

As if by reflex, she pulled the covers up in a single impulse, frantically examining the white bedsheets for any red stain, but thankfully there wasn't one. There was nothing strange besides the burning sensation between her legs and the mild ache in her body. The dreams had never done this to her before; they only left her feeling hot and aroused.

There must have been something very wrong with her mind, and she seriously considered talking to the priest at the congregation when she got home, or to the school psychologist, or even to both if that would put an end to the problem.

Even though there was a part of her brain that felt so satisfied that it whispered softly to her to leave things as they were, because she was perfectly happy that way.

And amidst all that mental turmoil, she stood up, her legs trembling slightly, and prepared for the day, as the smell of breakfast already filled the Creel residence and she was sure everyone was probably already at the table.

As soon as her eyes met Henry's as she entered the kitchen, she felt her whole body heat up with embarrassment inside, and she immediately looked away, only glancing at him now and then to gauge his reactions.

The coffee was already on the table, and everyone was eating peacefully. Alice, as always, was chatting excitedly with her parents, who were listening attentively. Meanwhile, Henry didn't seem any different from any other day. Just eating quietly with that same analytical and serious look as always.

Suddenly, shame overwhelmed her. There was nothing wrong with Henry Creel, but there was something very wrong with her for having so many filthy thoughts involving him and still having the audacity to blame him for it. Henry was just a harmless nerd, and she was a freak who would probably scare him if he could get a glimpse inside her head.

"You didn't need to wash your sheets, dear," Mrs. Creel murmured to her suddenly in a sweet voice and with a smile, interrupting her mental wandering that almost made her squirm in her chair. "I would have done it myself."

"But I don't..." She began, frowning in visible confusion, suddenly interrupting herself as a thick chill ran down her spine at that realization fell upon her.

She once again raised her eyes towards Henry Creel, who at that moment seemed to have changed. He no longer had that neutral and impassive expression of every day; he had a smile on his lips, which she couldn't tell if it was arrogance, pride, malice, or a cruel mixture of the three.

N/a²: Leave your comments :)

The janitor's closet seemed cramped, and the smell of sweat filled her nostrils, but she couldn't care less because the sweat was Henry's sweat. His hands seemed to be everywhere, pressing her against the wall and lifting her skirts, which must have been at her knees, up to her waist while rubbing his own arousal against her bare thigh.

She should be ashamed of that, and she would be ashamed if it were any other guy there doing that. Including her real boyfriend Danny, who had no idea that while she barely let him put his hands below her waist, she was letting Henry Creel fuck her in the janitor's closet every Wednesday and Friday, sometimes even more days of the week.

But she couldn't help it. Not when Henry seemed so good. Not when he seemed to make her feel so good. And she just wanted more and more of it every single day without exception.

"Henry..." She sighed, rubbing herself harder against him, feeling the wetness soaking her panties. "Please..."

"Please, what, my dear?" He laughed maliciously and arrogantly against her ear.

"You know what!" She groaned, almost stamping her feet like the spoiled brat she was, eager to get what she wanted.

"Unfortunately, I don't know, my dear..." He laughed, caressing her clitoris through the damp cotton fabric of her panties with his thumb, making her roll her eyes and throw her head against the wall of the janitor's closet. "You'll have to tell me..."

"Henry..." She sighed, rubbing against his hand, which had practiced enough lately to know exactly how to touch her body. "Stop being a condescending idiot and give me what I want!" She demanded as she felt his fingers teasing the wet folds of her pussy in a maddening way.

"Such a beautiful vocabulary, my dear..." He smiled against her neck, leaving a soft kiss, then lowering his lips to leave a bite and suck a mark where no one but the two of them could see. "But you know I prefer it when you talk dirty with that well-bred little mouth of yours." Saying this, he slid a finger inside her panties and finally caressed her clitoris skin to skin, making her gasp and grip his hair as she felt his talented fingers spreading her wetness all over her vulva.

"Henry..." Her voice sounded again, even more needy than before if possible, as she tried to rub herself against his fingers. "I want more... more please..."

"What else, my dear?" He murmured ironically, inserting his middle finger into her pussy and slowly fucking her, knowing that wouldn't be enough for her. "What else do you need? Tell me..." He demanded, forcing his finger against that spot he knew drove her crazy, but so slowly that she wouldn't be able to fully satisfy herself.

"Henry, I need your cock!" She whimpered wantonly, digging her nails into his back until she almost pierced his flesh. "Please... please give me your cock, I need it." Her eyes were brimming with lust as she stared intently at Henry, on the verge of madness for him.

"Do you want my cock fucking that pussy of yours, dear?" He smiled sideways, pressing their foreheads together, lifting her off the ground with a push, and placing her on the cleaning supplies table without breaking eye contact with her.

"Yes, Henry... yes please," she moaned, nodding and rubbing her face against his neck like a cat craving attention. Her skin burned with anticipation as she heard the metallic sound of Henry's belt opening, her eyes gleaming with excitement as they landed on his cock, which would soon be fucking her the way she liked

"So wet for me, my dear..." He groaned, penetrating her slowly with a sigh of satisfaction, gripping her hips and smiling uncontrollably as he heard the needy moans escaping her lips as she finally got what she wanted.

"Henry is so good..." She sighed, her mouth forming an "o" against his neck, her eyes rolling back as she felt completely full.

"Yeah?" Henry murmured against her well-groomed hair as he began to thrust firmly against her, making her restrain herself from screaming and cling to him more tightly.

"Yeah..." She gasped back, trembling, squeezing her legs around his waist as she whimpered softly. "Harder, Henry, harder..."

"So needy and willing to give herself to me..." He sighed against her skin, feeling her nod in agreement, eager to please him.

"You let that idiot Danny Harrington touch you like this?" He asked, thrusting harder and making her moan, already knowing the answer she would give.

"No, never. Only you, Henry. Only you..." She whimpered in despair, throwing her hips against his, hungry for more contact.

"Imagine what he would say if he saw his sweet, demure girlfriend now?" Henry gasped, squeezing her buttocks with his right hand and bringing his left hand to her clitoris to rub it in tight circles that made her bite his shoulder to keep from screaming.

"Henry, mmm..." She gasped and drooled with pleasure against his skin, making him roll his eyes in lust and simply move his fingers harder against her clitoris, in the same rhythm as his thrusts.

"Closer, Henry, so close..." She whimpered against his neck, breathless and lost in pleasure, leaving wet, sloppy kisses along his neck.

"Then come for me, darling..." Henry pleaded, almost breathless, in strong, hard thrusts, on the verge of his own climax as he felt her wet pussy tighten around him.

"Oh Henry..." She moaned, biting his shoulder a little harder so as not to make too much noise, while she felt her whole body writhe with pleasure as she was overcome by the ecstasy that only Henry Creel could provide.

At that very moment the lights began to flicker and Henry's thrusts became stronger and more careless against her, while he gasped and moaned softly, completely lost in pleasure and madness as he felt her pussy milking his cock at the peak of pleasure.

Throwing his head back in a stifled, hoarse groan, Henry surrendered to pleasure and came deeply inside her vagina. At that very instant, the flickering lightbulb glowed incandescently and then exploded, making the girl scream and curl up against Henry's chest.

It wasn't the first time it had happened, and she had already attributed it to the school's terrible power grid, which was always having strange spikes, but it still frightened her. Something that passed quickly, since Henry was there, and she could never be afraid in his presence, especially after he had taken such good care of her that she could barely feel her own legs.

"Sorry..." He murmured, frowning as he looked at the lamp on the ceiling, or what was left of it, making the girl roll her eyes and lie down wearily against his chest.

"Now it's your fault that the wiring in this place is so outdated that it would make pioneers feel right at home?" She murmured wearily and still playfully against his neck, making him sigh softly.

"Yes... it was just... nonsense." He murmured, trying to project an air of normalcy to her, which, for him, was almost impossible.

"I want to stay like this forever, Henry..." She sighed, placing a kiss against his bare chest and smiling.

"Then why don't you stay?" he asked in a hoarse voice, making her shudder. After all, they both knew the painful answer to that question. She was more afraid than anyone would think if she went out with Henry "weird" Creel.

She hated being so petty, but living in such a small town and coming from a wealthy family, there were things people expected of you. In her case, it was expected that she would be a perfect lady and remain a virgin until she married Danny Harrington as soon as they both finished high school.

She had already shattered the first expectation alongside Henry without letting anyone know. And now she didn't know how to shatter the second, even knowing that if she didn't, she would break Henry's heart and herself.

"Henry, I..." she began after catching her breath, only to be immediately interrupted by him.

"You don't want to talk about it, do you?" He laughed in a way that was rather cruel, which would have startled her if she didn't know him so well. "But it's okay, I should have known... because you never want to." He shrugged in frustration, pulling away from her abruptly, making her gasp as his limp member left her still trembling folds.

"All you want is for me to fuck you until you forget that idiot, and then go around hugging him like I didn't fuck your brains out two seconds ago!" Henry growled furiously, grabbing his own shirt from the floor, putting it on and buttoning it up in quick movements, while the lights in the main hallway flickered below the door.

"Henry, that... that's not true!" She snapped, jumping off the table even though her legs were still trembling, feeling the soft fabric of her skirt settle again around her thighs and slide down to her knees.

"Oh, how incredible, we've reached a new level of your power of a spoiled girl." Henry mocked, tucking the hem of his crumpled shirt into the waistband of his pants and zipping up his fly and belt again. "Now when you tell a lie, it automatically becomes reality!"

"Don't you dare call me spoiled!" she yelled, stamping her bare feet furiously on the floor, not even bothering to look for her own shoes.

"Very interesting how you're more worried about me calling you spoiled than a liar!" Henry growled, running both hands through his hair and tossing it back to make it less messy, then grabbing the strap of his backpack from the floor and walking angrily towards the door.

"Wait, you can't leave me here alone!" She complained, walking towards him equally furious and tugging at his still slightly wrinkled shirt.

"Perhaps you should call Harrington to keep you company, I'm sure he'd be delighted." He murmured, staring with blue eyes as cold as ice as his sharp voice echoed through the cramped closet.

"Henry, I... I want you!" She murmured, bringing her right palm to his face and gently caressing it in an attempt to soothe him.

"And I wish that were true." He murmured with a sorrowful look as he pulled away from her touch, head down, and opened the hallway door, leaving her alone and devastated in that closet.

For years she thought about that day. For years she thought that if she had been braver at the right moment, perhaps things could have been different for her, and especially, different for Henry.

After that day, he didn't speak to her again for the next week, seeming cold and distant, barely looking her in the eye as he passed her in the hallways. She couldn't bear it, she couldn't stand the distance. And she had already decided to end things with Danny to be with Henry.

But that's when tragedy struck. One night everything was fine, and the next... it was in all the newspapers. Henry's father had killed the entire Creel family during a psychotic episode. Mrs. Creel, little Alice, and her beloved Henry were all dead.

She didn't want to believe it. It was as if a very strong wind had swept her soul out of her body when she received that news. And she knew then and there that she could never be the same again, that Hawkins could never be the same again.

The school hallways seemed empty and lifeless, the plants and trees in the forest all appeared dead to her. And making a decision, she told her parents she wouldn't marry Danny Harrington. Unfortunately, it wasn't something her parents let her decide. Not when Danny's parents had given her a pearl necklace as an engagement gift, one that could wrap around her neck three times with room to spare.

And it was there, a month after graduating from high school, two months after Henry's murder, that she began her sad family life, buying a house at the end of the street with a man she never loved, and having with him, her beloved son. Her little Steve, whom she loved more than anything else in the world, and who, strangely, as a child, unlike Danny, had blond hair that gradually darkened over the course of his life.

Throughout the years that passed, she kept Henry Creel in her heart, and even as the memories began to fade with time, she refused to forget. He would live forever in her mind and in her deepest regrets.

N/a²: Thinking about the fact that Steve's life is already difficult enough without knowing that his mother was making out with Vecna in a closet in this alternate universe, and the possible consequences of that...