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Down By The River is an original story I've been slowly working on since April-ish (I've only started writing stuff down for it for about three months). It started forming in my head after I fell down the rabbit hole of Southern and Appalachian folktales like Two-Toed Tom, Huggin' Molly, the Honey Island Swamp Monster, the Bell Witch, and a whole bunch more. (look those up if you're intrigued, seriously) I've started posting a little about it, but not much.
We Can Be Heroes is another original story of mine. It's set in the vaguely futuristic Southern city Olia, (because everything I write is gonna be set or heavily inspired by the South), about twelve years after the deaths of The Sentinels, a superhero team in the vein of The Justice League and The Avengers, following one of the two surviving members, Maya Torres. I'm working on character intros for this wip like the ones I have for Down By The River, and will probably work on those first.
The Scarlet Hollow fic would be a combination of my latest two playthroughs, along with the overly-complicated backstory for my MC 😅
For the snippets, it'd be scenes of those fics I've already had in my head and wasn't able to get to before losing steam. A large majority of these would have spoilers, but I'll say so beforehand and give context to each one so you're not going in blind 😂
tagging my writer moots (no pressure to interact at all):
warnings: mentions of death, mostly set in a hospital, mentions of earthquakes, brief description of injuries
a/n: here it is!! hope y’all enjoy!
masterlist
If being a kid is about learning how to live, then being an adult is about learning how to die.
— Stephen King, It
“I found the first body in the kitchen. The neighbors— well, neighbor— had reported screaming from the house, so I went to investigate. It all seemed pretty normal at first, but then…”
Callahan trails off, eyes looking down at the tiled hospital floor. Hopper bites back a sigh, leaning forward in the crappy plastic hallway chair. It’s been a long year, for everyone left in Hawkins. Most of the town evacuated back in March, after the earthquake, but the folks who stayed have practically been trapped because of the quarantine.
In the last two weeks, cases like this have unfortunately been all too common.
Pinching his nose, Callahan continues, taking deliberately deep breaths. “I noticed the smell first. God, it hasn’t stopped smelling like blood since I opened that damned door. I headed further inside, saw the first body, then…” He stops, voice wavering.
Hopper frowns, letting his gaze go to the other side of the hall. “I’m gonna guess that’s when you found her,” he supplies, swallowing thickly as he watches the girl kick her feet back and forth.
She’s five, maybe six years old. Dried bloodstains on her clothes and a fresh cast on her left arm. She’s been staring blankly at her feet, hair falling in front of her face.
Callahan nods, exhaling loudly and running a hand down his face. “Yeah. She was by the other body, the one by the broken back door, holding a knife—”
Hopper raises an eyebrow. “You think she did it?”
Shaking his head rapidly, Callahan splutters out, “God, no! What happened to those people—” He pauses, staring down at the floor with that haunted, glazed-over look in his eye Hopper’s become all too familiar with. “— a kid couldn’t have done that.”
Callahan swallows thickly, running a hand over his face. “I— I need some air, chief. Gonna head outside for a few minutes.”
Hopper nods, waving him off. “Yeah, you go, I’ll keep an eye on the kid.” Callahan mumbles his thanks, already halfway to the door. Not that he can go too far though, with how bad the air’s gotten.
Sighing deeply, Hopper puts his hands on his knees as he stands, groaning as they ache. I’m starting to get too old for this, he thinks to himself as he heads to the other side of the hall, standing by the chair the kid’s in.
She glances up at him with big, brown Bambi eyes that unsettle him slightly. He gives her what he hopes is an assuring smile, and she blinks, tilting her head to the side.
“How’s the arm doing?” he asks her, and she looks down at it, almost like she forgot it was there.
Her nose scrunches as she looks for the right word. “Itchy,” she says finally, looking back at him.
Despite the situation, Hopper can’t bite back a chuckle. She reminds him of El, back when he found her in the woods. He leans his head back against the wall, shoulders shaking. “How’s about I find something for you to do while we wait, yeah? There’s probably a million coloring books laying around here somewhere.”
The kid nods, but she doesn’t perk up like he’d hoped she would. He pats her on the shoulder, gently, so he doesn’t aggravate her broken arm, and heads a little ways down the hall, careful to keep her in his peripheral vision.
“Be right back, kid.”
Amber stares down at the tiles, counting the corners and sides by twos. It helps her feel calm, counting the corners of shapes. She doesn’t know why. Her teacher said it had to do with ‘rep-ri-tit-ion’? She can’t remember the word.
She’s just counted to eighteen when several pairs of shoes cover the next set of corners. She frowns, looking up at the people who interrupted her.
“Wait out here, Holly,” the girl with big, poofy hair says before heading into one of the rooms, boot heels click, click, clicking as she walks off.
Huffing, the blond girl, Holly, flops down into the chair next to her, arms crossed and a pout on her face. “I don’t wanna sit out here,” she complains, glaring at the tall, spangly boy in front of her. “It smells too clean.”
The boy’s brow furrows. “What does that even mean?” he asks under his breath. Before Holly can answer, he shakes his head. “I’m with Nancy on this one. You gotta wait out here, Hol.”
Holly huffs again, louder this time, and the boy shrugs, turning to follow Nancy. “Sorry!”
She sticks her tongue out at him, narrowing her eyes. Once he’s out of sight, she slumps down in her seat, sighing.
Amber crosses her legs, holding her face in her hands as she rest her elbows on her knees. She blinks, head nodding forward. How long’s it been since she woke up? It was dark then, and the sun was just beginning to rise when the policeman took her to the hospital.
Now, the halls are starting to come to life, nurses heading in and out of rooms, having to squeeze by the plethora of visitors most of the patients have. It’s been a few hours, Amber guesses. Long enough for the exhaustion of last night to catch up with her. The blinks get slower, and eventually, her eyes close, and she nods off.
For maybe a minute and a half, before Holly notices her.
“Are you dead?”
Amber startles awake. She turns her head to look at the girl, who’s leaning halfway out of her seat, gripping the edge so she’s in Amber’s eyesight.
“I’m not dead,” she answers, frowning. Why would there just be a dead person in the hallway? What a weird question.
Holly purses her lips, looking all over her. She shrugs, sitting back in the chair. The plastic creaks as she swings her legs back and forth in unison, almost like she’s on a swing. “I couldn’t tell. Dead people don’t talk, so asking you a question was the best way to find out.”
She smiles at Amber, blue eyes crinkling in the corners. “I’m Holly,” she says, and Amber blinks at her, turning in the chair so she faces her.
“I knew that.”
Holly’s eyes widen. “How?” She gasps excitedly, swiveling around, their knees touching. “Are you a wizard?” she whispers, drumming on her legs.
Amber shakes her head. “No. But that would be cool. I heard the lady with poofy hair call you that.”
Holly frowns for a split second, then goes ‘ohh’, when she realizes who she’s talking about. “You mean Nancy? She’s my big sister.”
She turns her head to glare at the closed door, and Amber follows her gaze. “The other one’s my brother Mike. He’s weird.” She sticks her tongue out at the door before turning back to Amber.
Her eyes fall to the cast on her arm, and she hums before looking back up. “What happened to your arm?”
Amber had forgotten about it. The itching finally stopped, maybe that’s why. “I broke my arm. Some of the bone was sticking out.”
Holly shudders, some of the hair in her pigtail falling over her shoulder. “Eww.” She purses her lips again for a moment, deep in thought. Then, moving so quickly Amber almost misses it, she pulls a handful of markers out of her pocket, presenting them to her.
“I can draw on it, if you want. Make it pretty.”
Amber nods, a small smile on her face. She holds the arm out for Holly to hold, and the other girl reaches out to start her work. Amber stares down at her as she draws some stars, proudly stating that she learned how to draw them a few days ago. Her brother’s friend, Will, taught her, when he and Mike were babysitting her.
She’s started drawing a wizard, finishing his pointy hat before asking, “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
Amber shakes her head. Holly laughs and says, “You can have mine. I don’t think they like me that much.”
“Why?”
Holly frowns, eyes dimming as she turns her focus back to drawing. “They never hang out with me. They’re always in the basement with their friends, or at the radio tower with their friends. They always shoo me away.”
“That’s mean,” Amber says, and Holly nods.
“Yeah. But it’s okay. I’m used to being alone. My mom’s always on the phone with her friends, and all my dad does is work and sleep.”
They sit in silence for a while, until Holly’s done drawing the wizard. Once she has, she leans back to admire her work, and starts to put the markers away. “I’ll leave some room for your friends to sign. They’re all gonna wanna sign it.”
“You can keep drawing,” Amber assures her, shaking her head. “I don’t have any friends.”
Holly’s brows furrow, but she starts to go back to drawing even so. “Why not?”
“People think I’m weird,” she says, shrugging. Except for her Granny, but that doesn’t count. Granny’s the weirdest, kookiest person in the world.
“I like weird,” Holly tells her, giggling.
They fall back into the silence, both smiling now. Holly fills up the blank spaces on the cast with all sorts of doodles, with a huge dragon right in the middle. Once she’s done, she hands a marker to Amber and tells her to draw on her hand.
She starts a loop in the center of her hand when Holly asks her which room her parents are in.
“Oh.” She pauses, hands falling into her lap. “They died last night. I’m alone.”
Saying it out loud is what makes it finally sink in. They’re dead. Gone.
Amber’s never gonna see her parents again. She’s all alone.
That’s really scary.
A few stray tears fall onto Holly’s outstretched hand, and Amber realizes that she started crying. She hastily wipes them away, biting back a sob.
Holly reaches over, wrapping an arm around Amber’s shoulders. She leans over, returning the hug, burying her face in Holly’s shoulder as she cries. She doesn’t know how long it lasts. She feels a little better afterwards. A little more tired, too, but it’s fine.
They keep hugging, and Amber thinks she hears Holly sniffle, but isn’t sure. They move around in the chair, and end up sitting together, Amber’s head on Holly’s shoulder and Holly’s head leaning against hers.
“You know…” Holly hesitates, one hand messing with a loose string on her pants. “We… can be friends. If you want. And then we can be alone together.”
Amber smiles, wiping the last of her tears away. “That would be really nice.”
‘Alone together’, Amber repeats in her head, starting to nod off again. Just us, against the world.
She closes her eyes, leaning fully against Holly. Can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be.
Holly Wheeler is never leaving Hawkins. She’s fine with that— hell, she likes that. Why would she ever want to leave? She’s got her best friend living the next street over, an amazing dad, a basement she can disappear into and play music for however long she needs. Now she’s even got two new, badass friends to start a band with, and a sick new hangout in the woods.
Who cares that everyone says Hawkins Lab is haunted?
Hawkins, Indiana
2023
Holly Wheeler hasn’t been in Hawkins in twenty-seven years. She’s fine with that. She’s got a nice place of her own, a steady job that she likes, friends… if you count your seventy-three year old boss as a friend. But then she gets a text from one of her old friends, saying they all need to come back to Hawkins. It’s important, she says. Holly doesn’t know why, but she believes her. It’s like there’s this… thing, calling her back.
Maybe people are right when they say that Hawkins is cursed.
tag list is open! lemme know if you wanna be tagged!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
“Yes, Dad, I remember.” Holly fights the urge to roll her eyes, leaning back against the car seat.
“Y’know, I wondered for a while— never asked cause I didn’t wanna push— but did you ever… have a… a thing for any of those girls?”
“Dad!” she bristles, almost jumping out of her seat. It’s not that she’s worried what his reaction would be; she came out to him years ago and it went so much better than she had expected it to. It’s just… ugh.
She buries her face in her hands, groaning. “It’s complicated,” she answers after a moment, voice muffled from behind her hands.
the tag list is open! let me know if you’d like to be tagged! 💜
Holly Wheeler is never leaving Hawkins. She’s fine with that— hell, she likes that. Why would she ever want to leave? She’s got her best friend living the next street over, an amazing dad, a basement she can disappear into and play music for however long she needs. Now she’s even got two new, badass friends to start a band with, and a sick new hangout in the woods.
Who cares that everyone says Hawkins Lab is haunted?
Hawkins, Indiana
2023
Holly Wheeler hasn’t been in Hawkins in twenty-seven years. She’s fine with that. She’s got a nice place of her own, a steady job that she likes, friends… if you count your seventy-three year old boss as a friend. But then she gets a text from one of her old bandmates, saying they all need to come back to Hawkins. It’s important, she says. Holly doesn’t know why, but she believes her. It’s like there’s this… thing, calling her back.
Maybe people are right when they say that Hawkins is cursed.
