Missing Kid [Ep1]

[Edited]

In the living room of a trailer, hanging on the wall was a child's drawing. It depicted a perfect looking family; A man, The father, A girl, The daughter, and A woman, the mother. 

The picture on the wall was probably the only clean, organized thing in the whole trailer. The rest of the trailer was an utter mess. Among the mess was a dusty T.V on which a local newswoman droned: 

" . . . . reports of surges and outages across 

The county . . .  We reached out to roane county water And electric, and . . . " 

There were clutters of beer bottoms scattered around the room, Opened plastic vials, scattered red and blue pills, and last but not least: 

Jim Hopper, or Hop. He's in his early 40's. He was currently sprawled out on a grundy sofa, shirtless, wearing only a pair of worn out Levi jeans and 3 bracelets, a blue one, a red one and a purple one, on his wrist. 

A few rays of lights were cutting through the blinds covering the window, waking him up. 

He had to blink a few times, before he grimaced before sighing. He was hungover. Again. 

He lifted his hand up to his face, checking the time on his watch before deciding to get up. He walked out onto a decrepit porch with a cigarette and lighter in hand. He lit the cigarette, before taking a drag of it. 

Hopper's trailer was perched on the shore of a lake. It's a bit lonely out there, but he'll be damned if it isn't beautiful. The tall, green trees lining the lake, the way the sun reflects on the clear water, and the sounds the birds make in the morning. 

He put the lighter back into his jean pockets when he was down with it, just watching the lake for a few seconds before he decided that he had had enough beauty for now, plus it was getting cold. He headed back inside, with a soft "Hmm." 

. . . . 

Hopper was currently showering, he grabbed his soap bar and began scrubbing his arms and the rest of his body, making sure he was clean. 

. . . . 

He began drying his hair with a light blue-ish, gray-ish towel as he groaned. 

. . . . 

Hopper was now standing in front of the mirror, crushing his teeth with a yellow toothbrush. Once he was finished with his teeth however, He went right back to smoking as he sprayed deodorant/mens perfume (I'm not sure what it is he sprayed.) He then grabbed a yellow pill container with a white lid, he popped the lid off and took two capsules, A red and A blue one before grabbing the beer bottle next to him on the counter to wash the pills down. 

He took one more drag of the cigarette, exhaling the smoke at the mirror in front of him. 

. . . . 

A little bit later, He was getting dressed in his bedroom. He pulled on a brown collared shirt before he began buttoning it up. A pair of similar brown pants already on, He adjusted his belt that had a holster that held a 9MM glock, He clipped on a gold badge that reads: 

HAWKINS POLICE. 

CHIEF. 

He slipped a pen in the pocket by the badge before heading over to a gray hat hanging on the wall, placing it on his head before quickly grabbing the keys that rested on his table cluttered with cans and old food. 

The T.V still droning on:

" . . .  In other words, 

It seems like you may want to stay in tonight . . 

Or pack an umbrella. 

Lets go now to everyone's favorite weathermen, 

Charles. Charles? . . ." 

Hopper headed out the door, the trailer door rattling shut behind him. 

. . . . 

It was morning time at the Byers, the laundry was still hanging up. It billowed a bit in the gathering wind. It looked like a storm was coming . . . . 

In the kitchen was Jonathan Byers, 16 years old. He was Will's older brother, and was the one cooking breakfast. He was lanky with long brown hair. Quietly handsome . . .  but he wouldn't believe you if you told him. Maverick's tried plenty of times. 

"Where the hell are they?!" Will's and Jonathan's mom, Joyce Byers, who was in her late 30's. Ran past Jonathan, quite frazzled. She was wearing a wrinkled "Melvald General store" uniform. It was a light blue long sleeve under shirt and a dark blue short sleeved shirt on top paired with brown pants. 

"Damnit! Jonathan?" Joyce swore, unable to find her keys. Jonathan looked over his shoulder a bit before shouting to her, "Check the couch!" So Joyce did, she searched the couch, even though she had already looked here, that was covered with a yellow and white blanket, "Ugh! I did!" 

She searched behind one of the pillows on the couch, and finally finds her keys. She breathed a sigh of relief, "Oh . . . Got them." Thank God. She snatched them up, heading back into the kitchen. She picked up her bag/purse, "Okay, sweetie, I will see you tonight." She said as she made her way over to her oldest son. She squeezed his shoulder before looking at the table where Will and Maverick should have been sitting, clenching her fists where their shoulders should have been, "Where's Will and Rick?" 

Jonathan didn't look up from what he was doing, "Oh, I didn't get them up yet. He's probably still sleeping." Joyce sighed, "Jonathan, you have to make sure they're up." Jonathan shrugged, hands still holding the pan, "Mom, I'm making breakfast." But Joyce didn't listen to that as she walked away, 

"I told you this a thousand times." She grumbled, walking down the hall to Will's bedroom where Will and Maverick should be sleeping. 

She started clapping her hands as she neared Will's room, "Will! Rick! Come on, Honey. It's time to get up." She said, walking into Will's bedroom only to find it empty. She looked around before heading back to the kitchen, where Jonathan had just finished putting breakfast onto the plates. 

"They came home last night, right?" Joyce asked her son, Who lifted his head up to answer, "They're not in Will's room?" But Joyce stayed stubborn and asked again, "Did they come home or not?" Jonathan sighed as he set the plates down on the table, "I don't know." 

Joyce looked appalled, "You don't know?" She repeated, "No. I-I got home late. I was working." He stammered, looking up at his mother. Joyce looked speechless, "You were working?" 

"Eric asked if I could cover for him, I said yeah; I just figured we could use the extra cash." Jonathan tried to explain to his overprotective mother, but she could care less about that. She sighed, throwing her hands in the air, "Jonathan, We've talked about this." Jonathan nodded his head, ashamed. "I know, I know." 

"You can't take shifts when I'm working." She made excessive hand/arm movements to try and get her point across to her oldest son, "Mom, it's not a big deal. Look, They were at the Wheelers' all day. I'm sure he just stayed over." He assured his mother, trying to calm her down a bit. Joyce sighed, "I can't believe you. I can't believe you sometimes." She scolded as she walked over to the phone hanging on the wall, She then proceeded to dial the Wheelers' number. 

Meanwhile, At the Wheelers' house things weren't so quiet. It was like Chaos over there. Mike had grabbed some syrup from a cabinet and was currently pouring it onto his eggs. His sister, Nancy Wheeler, 16, looked over at what he was doing while she was eating. 

She grimaced, "That's disgusting." 

"You're disgusting!" Mike shot back. 

Karen Wheeler, who was holding Holly Wheeler, 3, walked over to the phone that was ringing. 

"Hello?" She answered, holding the phone with her shoulder so she could adjust Holly on her hip. 

"Hi, Karen. It's Joyce." 

"Oh, Joyce, Hi." Karen greeted her, with a small smile on her face. In the background, At the dining table, Mike was pouring Syrup on Nancy's scrambled eggs, Making her shout, "What the hell, Mike!?" 

Mike just sat back with a smug smile on his face, Ted shouted in a warning tone, "Hey Language!" But didn't care all too much. It was Karen that made them shut up, "QUIET!" She yelled. 

"Are you kidding?" Nancy asked her younger brother, who just smiled and shrugged his shoulders. Nancy looked at her father, speechless. 

Back at the Byers house, Joyce thought she heard Will in the background. "Was that Will or Rick I heard back there?" She questioned. 

"Will? No, no, no, It's just Mike." Karen answered her, occasionally looking over her shoulder. 

"Will and Rick didn't spend the night?" Joyce faltered. Jonathan had stopped what he was doing so he could listen too. They both heard Karen say, "No, they left here a little bit after 8:00." Joyce and Jonthan felt their stomachs drop a bit after hearing that, "Why? They're not home?" Karen inquired, worry filling her. 

Joyce didn't want to worry Karen in case nothing was actually wrong, "Um, you know what? I think they just left early for . . . for school. Thank you so much. Bye." 

"Okay. Bye." 

Joyce then hung up the phone, Looking back at Jonathan. Both had fear and anxiety visible on their faces. Joyce rubbed her nose, trying to hold back tears. 

Where and What happened to Will and Maverick? 

Later that day, At Hawkins Middle school. The school grounds were crowded with children and teachers walking about. 

Mike, Lucas and Dustin ride their bikes past the high school, making their way towards Hawkins Middle school - - - A quaint, one-story brick building tucked beneath a water tower. The boys get to the bike rack, and a lot their wheels into the bike racks. They hear the school bell start ringing. 

"That's weird, I don't see them." Mike said after looking around a bit, but couldn't see Will or Maverick. They started walking up to the school door, "I'm telling you, his mom's right. He probably just went to class early again. Maverick too." Dustin nodded his head, "Yeah, Will's always paranoid Gursky's gonna give him another pop quiz. Plus Maverick stayed the night at his palace, so they probably came together." Mike nodded his head, feeling a bit better about the situation now. 

"Step right up, ladies and gentlemen." Someone from behind the boys suddenly spoke up, Walking off the cement slab as the two boys approached the three kids, "Step right up and get your tickets for the freak show." 

The trio look behind them, groaning silently as they realize who it was. James and Troy. They were both 14 years old. They saw the pair heading towards them, with smirks hanging on their lips. But the boys don't run. They simply stand there, like statues. They were used to this, it happens regularly. And this is simply how they deal with it: With passivity. 

Troy gets closer to the boys and sizes them up, "Who do think would make more money in a freak show? Midnight?" Troy shoved Lucas, making his stumble slightly, "Frogface?" He shoved Mike too, then, "Or Toothless?" He shoved Dustin too. James then put his fist to his chin, sighing, pretending to think about the question before answering with; 

"I'd go wiff tooffless." James Mimicked Dustin, Annoying Dustin. 

"I told you a million time, my teeth are coming in." Dustin argued back, "Its called Cleidocranial Dysplasia." 

James just Mimicked Dustin again with a huge smirk on his face, "I told you a million time." James and Troy both chuckled, before Troy said to Dustin, "Do the arm thing." However, Dustin hesitated, not wanting to do it at all. But Troy was getting impatient, "Do it freak!" 

Dustin sighs, relenting. He shook his jacket off, Before pulling his arms in front of him, making his bones crack. It made Troy and James groan and look away from the boys. 

"God, it gets me every time." Troy said before he and James shaved past the trio and headed into the school, laughing to themselves. 

"Assholes." Lucas muttered his breath. Mike noticed that Dustin was upset, who wouldn't be after that, and tried to cheer him up a bit, " . . . I think its kinda cool." He started as Dustin reached down to pick up his jacket and backpack, "It's like you have superpowers or something. Like Mr. Fantastic." He finished. 

Dustin caught up with them, chuckling slightly, "Yeah, except I can't fight evil with it."  

The boys pull on their backpacks before heading into school. 

. . . . 

There was an American flag fluttering on a flagpole. The flagpole sat outside the Local Police Station. The building was quaint, like most buildings in this small town. But this one was really quaint. If the sign out front didn't read "Police", people would probably mistake it as a gift shop. 

Just then, Hopper's chevy blazer police car pulled into the parking lot. He got out his car, and lumbered inside the police station, smoking a cigarette. His secretary, Florence, sat behind a glass partition. 

"Good of you to show." She said, Phone in hand as she watched Hopper walk past her, "Mornin' to you too, Flo." He greeted in passing. Hopper walked into the bullpen, slurring his words slightly when he greeted the other officers inside the room, "Morning, everybody." 

Officer Powell greeted him first, "Hey, Chief." Officer Callahan chuckled before saying, "Damn! You look like hell, Chief." The two chiefs were relaxing in their seats, feet propped up on their desks. Hopper looked over at Callahan, "Oh yeah?" Callahan nodded his head, "Yeah" While chuckling. 

"Well, I looked better than your wife when I left her this morning." Hopper joked, Making both Officers chuckle loudly while they were playing cards. 

Florence then walked over to Hopper, snatching his cigarette from his mouth before putting it out in an ashtray while Hopper made himself some coffee, " While you were drinking or sleeping, or whatever it is you deem so necessary on Monday morning, Phil Larson called. Said some kids are stealing the gnomes out of his garden again." She informed Hopper, who had a cup of coffee in one hand and was grabbing a donut in another. 

"Oh, those garden gnomes again. Well, I'll tell you what, I'm gonna get right on that." He told Florence as he put the donut in his mouth, before picking a card out of Callahan's hand while Florence continued to speak, "On a more pressing matter, Joyce Byers can't find her son or Maverick Wynd this morning." 

"Mmm. Okay, I'm gonna get on that." Hopper spoke in a muffled voice as he took the donut out of his mouth, taking a bit out of it as he finished his sentence, "Just give me a minute." He was walking away from Florence, who was diligently following behind him, "Joyce is very upset." 

"Well, Flo, Flo, we've discussed this. Mornings are for coffee and contemplation." Hopper grumbled, headed back through the bullpen with his donut and coffee, when Florence tries to tell Hopper, "Chief, she's already in you- - -" 

"Coffee and contemplation, Flo!" 

Hopper then headed up to the second floor, ignoring what Florence had to say. He walked into his office only to find Joyce Byers sitting in the chair in front of his desk. As soon as Joyce saw Hopper, she quickly stood up from her seat. 

She looked anxious, tired and worried. 

Shit. 

. . . . 

WHAP! WHAP! WHAP! Type-hammers slammed ink onto a police report. A single, ominous word forms one letter at a time spelling out the word: MISSING. 

Hopper looked up from the typewriter. Trying not to look into Joyce's eyes as he finished typing. He had an earnest feel to him now. His desk, however, shatters that illusion completely. It was cluttered with papers and mugs and candy wrappers, almost like the desk of a child. 

Joyce was passing in front of Hopper's desk, dragging on a cigarette. She's definitely on edge, so far out that she might just fall right off it. 

"I've been waiting here for over an hour, Hopper." Joyce spoke up, looking down at her watch before swinging her arms around. Hopper sighed, taking his gaze off the typewriter and looking up at Joyce, 

"And I apologize again." He answered, putting his hands in front of him in a calming manner. 

But it didn't help Joyce. 

"I'm going out of my mind!" She shouted. She was starting to annoy Hopper but he knew that she was just worried and probably tired, "Look, boys their age, They're probably just playing hooky, okay?" He assured her, hoping it would give her some piece of mind. 

(Hint: It didn't.)

"No, not my Will. Or Rick either. He's not like that. They're not like that. They wouldn't do that." 

"Well, you never know. I mean, My mom thought I was on the debate team when really I was screwing Chrissy Carpenter in the back of my dad's oldsmobile, so . . . "  He admitted, folding his hands in front of him on his desk. 

"Look, They're not like you, Will's not like you, Hopper. He's not like me. He . . . They're not like . . . Most." She said, getting frustrated too, She was using excessive hand motions as she spoke, "They have a couple friends, but, you know, the other kids, they're mean. They-They make fun of Will, of Rick. They call them names. They laugh at them, they're clothes . . ."

"They're clothes? What's wrong with their clothes?" Hopper inquired, leaning forward slightly on the desk, "I don't know. Does that matter?" She asked him, raising her voice a bit. Hopper nodded his head, "Maybe." 

Joyce sighed, "Look, Hes . . . They're sensitive kids. Lonnie . . .*sigh* . . . Lonnie used to say they were Qeer." She then said the next sentence more softly, "Called them Fags." Hopper sat back in his seat slightly, "Are they?" 

"They're missing is what they are." Joyce took another drag of her cigarette, fighting back tears. 

Hopper was leaning back in his seat, "When was the last time you heard from Lonnie? Or Rick's parents?" 

Joyce scoffed, taking a seat again. 

"Uh, Last I heard, he was in indianapolis. That was about a year ago. And Rick's parents are supposed to come back next week, if they don't extend their trip again. But they have nothing to do with this." 

Hopper leaned over to his desk, grabbing a pen and pad, "Why don't you give me their numbers?" 

"You know Hopper, they have nothing to do with this. Trust me." 

"Joyce, 99 out of 100 times Kid or Kids go missing, the kid(s) are with a parent or relative." Hopper informed her. Joyce started getting more worried though, "W-What about the other time?" She stammered, cigarette in hand. "What?" He asked, "You said, "99 out of 100" What about the other time, the one?" 

"Joyce." He called her, feeling her getting slightly too upset, "The one!" 

"Joyce, this is Hawkins, Alright?" Joyce sighed, allowing Hopper to talk.

"You wanna know the worst thing that's ever happened here in the four years I've been working here? 

Do you wanna know the worst thing?" He leaned over his desk to look at Joyce, "It was when an owl attacked Eleanor Gillespie's head because it thought that her hair was a nest." Hopper chuckled slightly at the memory, trying to lighten the mood a little bit. 

And thankfully, Joyce began relaxing a bit, but only a little. 

"Okay, fine. I will call Lonnie. He will talk to me before he talks to . ." 

"What? A pig?" Hopper guessed, "A cop!" 

Joyce leaned over the desk slightly, Her voice breaking, "Just find my son and Rick, Hop. Find them!" 

. . . .

At the entrance of the Hawkins lab, Black unmarked sedans drove through the entrance. They slam to a stop after parking and a few men wearing black suits stepped out of the cars. They walked up to the building, being met by Dr. Martin Brenner, who was in his late 30's. Dr. Brenner and the head man-in-black shook hands, "Hello, Dr. Brenner." 

There were a series of clacks on the linoleum floors as Dr. Brenner and a group of NSA agents through the corridors of the lab. Dr. Brenner was wearing a casual suit, loose tie, and had some slight stubble. He also looks like he hasn't slept in a while. 

"The entire east wing will be evacuated within the hour. We've sealed off this area following quarantine protocol." Scientist #1 informed Dr. Brenner, who was walking right next to him as they turned the corner, arriving at a plastic quarantine door. Dr. Brenner and the NSA entered through the plastic door. 

Dr. Brenner and the NSA agents were currently putting on white hazmat suits and helmets to protect themselves. They put on black rubber gloves and tall boots, before tapping them to the suits. They all grabbed a gun on the way out, for protection. 

. . . . 

Now they were in the freight elevator, it was groaning, Humming and shuddering as it carried Dr. Brenner, Scientist #1, the agents, and the soldiers down into the bowels of the lab. The soldiers were armed with M16-style rifles with barrel-mounted flashlights. 

The ride was silent, No talking or whispering could be heard from anyone in that elevator. 

WHOOM! The elevator came to a halt, the doors opening to reveal a dark corridor. The flashlights were sweeping around as they all exited the electro. Quite a few things have changed, The fluorescent lights were now completely dead, The atmosphere was a lot more densem clouded in a white fog, with spore-like particles dancing around in the air. There were also cracks in the cement. It almost looked like the place was . . . Dying. 

The group of men entered the lab, quickly sweeping the area. It was like a total nightmare in there. Fleshy mold-like growths clinging to the walls, and the atmosphere even denser than the corridor, making it difficult to see. 

Dr. Brenners flashlight slowly moved up the fleshy mold-like vines on the far wall. The thing was making an indistinct Growling sound. The thing being illuminated by the light almost looked like the beating heart of the subterranean nightmare. Fleshy mold-like growths were smothering the entire wall, alive, wet, throbbing. In the center of this growth, there was what appeared to be a twelve-foot-diameter opening. This was . . . 

THE RIFT. 

IT UNDULATES. 

ALMOST BREATHING. 

ALIVE. 

"This is where it came from?" Man #1 questioned, "Yes." Man #2 answered. Brenner nodded his head along with them, "And the three children?" 

"They can't have gone far." 

. . . . . 

There were three pairs of bare feet walking across dead leaves and sticks, One pair of feet being forcefully dragged along, "No! Let! Go!" A soft voice softly shouted, trying to struggle against the arms holding his wrists. But his pleas go unheard by the people holding him. 

There, in the woods, were three young children. A young girl, who looked to be around 12, and two young boys, one around the same age as the girl and the other one looking to be younger than both of them. 

The older boy and girl had their hands wrapped around the younger's wrists, pulling him along as they walked across the forest floor. Soon They stopped outside the forest line, where the trees stopped. 

The three kids could make an immediate impression on anyone that saw them, Their heads buzzed to close to the scalp, all of their feet were bare and dirty, Their skin was pale and had some dirt smudged in some places, and they were wearing hospital gowns that were a bit tattered and splattered with mud. 

Honestly, They looked more like wild animals than children. 

Especially the youngest, who was baring his teeth at the older children. 

"Let! Go! Need go Papa! Let go!" He shouted, trying to yank his arms out of their grip, but they were simply too strong, much stronger than him at least. The girl turned to him, her face blank as she said, 

"Papa. Bad. Stay with us. Twelve." 

However, the young boy simply shook his head, refusing to believe her. His papa had raised him and took care of him. There was no way he was bad. Right? 

"Stay, We protect you. Keep safe. Listen to us. For your good." The older boy suddenly spoke up, looking down at the young boy softly, which made the boy falter. He hesitated before settling down, deciding to trust them. For now. 

Both older kids sighed with relief when they saw him calming down, he had been shouting and trying to go back since they first escaped. He was too stubborn for his own good. 

They all then focus on a run-down restaurant, that had a sign that read: 

"BENNY'S BURGERS AND ICE CREAM." 

The side door suddenly swung open, making the youngest of the three flinch and hide behind the two slightly. An action that both of them noticed from the corner of their eyes. The youngest brushed it off and went back to staring at the man that exited the building. 

Benny Hammod, late 40's, lumbered out while carrying a trash bag in his right hand, letting it hang by his side. He was wearing white clothes and a greasy apron wrapped around his waist. The three children watched him closely as Benny dumped out the trash before heading back inside the building. 

The girl looked over at the older boy by her side, both of them nodding their heads. They then grabbed the youngest by the wrists, a hand holding each one as they slowly snuck through the screen door. They crept forward into . . .   

--------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Another re-written chapter!

Hope you liked it, Please feel free to ask me anything if your confused or have any suggestions for the story!

Thank you and Enjoy!