#day 008

Welcome to Day 008, the last day of Bylerween 2025! We had a fantastic, spooky week with you all! 🧡🦇🎃

Today's themes are:

The Rightside Up Satanic Panic Scary Stories

i drew this for me friend @cupids-arrows whom i Love

008/25

008-365

Day 008: Spear.

Featuring Lucas Sinclair, and Erica Sinclair.

Dustin Henderson and Eddie Munson mentioned.

822 words and it's technically not spoilers because it's an in-between scene? Idk.

“How do you feel about fire spears, Lucas?” Erica asks, thinking that it would be a good idea. ”After all, they are all weak to fire, it makes sense!” Lucas eyes Eddie and Dustin who seem to be having a wedgie fight, and scoffs. “Normally, I would say that is a good idea, Erica, but these are for Dustin and Eddie.” She tilts her head, frowning. “So?” She asks, not seeing his point. Lucas shifts in his lawn chair to look at her. “So do you trust either of those two with a fiery spear?!” He points at them, and Erica rubs her chin. She shrugs. “Better than I would trust you with a fire spear.” She says, and he sets his spear down, glaring at his sister.

“Erica!” He scolds, and she grins. “Just the facts, Lucas! But do you really think they can't handle a little fire?” Lucas gestures to them again, hoping it would emphasize his point. “You do see what they are doing, right? They would fall onto themselves and burn themselves alive! They would be the worst people to give flammable objects to!” She sighs, going to fasten the string of her spear again. “So that's a no then.” Lucas leans back in his chair, with a grunt. “It is a good idea, in theory. It just seems irresponsible to let those two handle something so dangerous, you know?” She turns to look up at him. “But what if us giving them no fire spears is what causes this all to go wrong?” Lucas swallows. He hadn't thought of that. “This is gonna work.” He says, trying to make himself believe it. She raises an eyebrow. “Well, that was convincing.” She responds, sounding completely unconvinced.

Lucas stands, running his hands through his hair. “I don't know, Erica! Between everything with Max, and the reckless plan she has made, and the splitting up and having no El and all of this other sh!t, it's just too many variables and so many ways it can go wrong!” He starts to pace, his breathing becoming fast and short. “Mike was always the party's leader, but now he's in California doing who knows what, and Dustin is going with Eddie, and just everything.” He sighs, stopping his pace. “Someone has to look out for the party.” Erica stands up too, crossing her arms. “And why does that have to be you?” Lucas rubs his hands together, trying to gather his words. “Because Steve isn't gonna be there to step up. Dustin has Eddie to protect him if it gets down to it. I have to protect you and Max, and Nancy and Robin will be fine, but there is just so much we may have not accounted for. And somebody has to work through every possibility, and our plan hinges on very specific things happening, specifically Max. I'm watching you two, so it's my job.”

Erica looks up at her brother, noting the gleam of determination in his eyes. There was a time where she couldn't fathom Lucas being a part of this crazy world that was their life, but now she sees first hand the effect it has had on him. She knew that his drive to protect those he cared about came from a desire to appear or to be strong, not unlike Steve. He said “Steve isn't going to be there to step in,” which Erica took to mean that he felt that he had to become what Steve was to him, and protect her and Max. “Lucas, it's gonna work. Max knows what she's doing.” She says, and he shakes his head. “No, I'm supposed to be the one assuring you, not the other way around. But...” he swallows. “Guess I'm just too weak to do that well.” Erica scoffs. “You are not weak. You're worried for your friend. Steve is too, you know?” She says, knowing that he was trying to model himself after Steve. “It can't be easy for him either.” 

“I can’t believe what I’m seeing! In a shocking turn of events the mystery car seems to be picking off each racer one by one. I wouldn’t want to be out on that track tonight. This driver is out for blood.”

All wrong. The announcer had no idea. It wasn’t me who was out for blood, it was everyone else on this track. They all wanted me dead. They wanted to see me crash and burn. I was just trying to stay alive. I had to. I needed that money. I tucked in closer to my motorcycle.

Some call me the Mystery Racer and some call me Jackal. No one knows my identity here, and with the way this race is going, I prefer it that way. My bike lurched forward as someone bashed into the back of my bike. I chanced a glance behind me, the driver leaned out the window, blaster in hand. I swore aloud and swerved, only barely getting out of the way of his shot as my side mirror shattered, “These repairs are going to cost me more than the winnings of this race.” I grumbled to myself.