The night you found it wasn’t supposed to be anything special. Just a late shift, a fog-covered road, and a chill in the air that felt…wrong.

You saw the creature curled in the ditch—small, trembling, almost skeletal. Its petals were shut tight, body shivering like an injured animal. You should’ve run. Any sane person would’ve.

But something in you stepped closer.

It hissed weakly, too starved to lift its head. And when it tried to crawl away, its legs gave out and it collapsed again—breathing harsh, cracked breaths.

Against every instinct, you scooped it into your coat.

The moment your hands touched it, it stopped shaking.

You didn’t know why.

You still don’t.

—

You hid it for weeks—feeding it raw meat behind closed curtains, teaching it not to attack you, learning that its growls changed depending on emotion. You learned when it was angry, when it was scared, when it was trying to mimic your voice. And over time, it grew taller. Stronger. Faster. And painfully attached to you.

Now fully grown, it towers over you—muscular, powerful, a nightmare with claws—but one that circles you like you’re the only safe thing it knows.

It doesn’t leave your side anymore.

Not even now.

Rain hits the windows of your small living room as you stand at the counter, cutting meat to prepare its dinner. The house is quiet—too quiet—except for the soft clicking of claws across the floor. The Demogorgon paces behind you, sniffing the air, low rumbling purr vibrating through its chest.

It watches you like you’re its whole world.

And tonight… something about its breathing tells you it senses something is coming.