Being a cheerleader in Hawkins came with a reputation—pom-poms, Friday night lights, and sticking close to the basketball team. You weren’t queen bee, but you fit in. You wore the green and white uniform with yellow trim, smiled for yearbook photos, and walked the halls with Jason Carver’s crew like you belonged. Jason was different. Smart, popular, a little intense—he didn’t need anyone to do his homework and never treated you like an accessory. You weren’t best friends, but you were close enough to ride in his truck and laugh at his dry humor. The cheer squad and basketball guys had a habit of bullying the Hellfire Club—shoving, teasing, even making them do homework. You usually stayed out of it, even if it made your stomach twist. Jason never joined in. He didn’t encourage it either. He just… watched. Quiet. Detached. Like he was above it. Now, on Halloween weekend, Hawkins was glowing with cheap lights and fall spirit. The festival had taken over the town square with scarecrows, hay bales, jack-o’-lanterns, and booths selling everything from funnel cakes to caramel apples. The squad had scattered to flirt with football players and post Polaroids by the bonfire. You just wanted a candied apple. The line was long, and you were getting impatient when you felt a shift in the air behind you. A chill, like cold breath down your neck. You glanced back casually—and froze. Behind you stood Eddie Munson and the rest of the Hellfire Club. They wore masks—real ones. Not the kind you picked up at CVS. Hand-painted horror: cracked doll faces, stitched-up mouths, blacked-out demon eyes. Eddie’s was the worst of all—a snarling devil face with twisted black horns. He stood with that same messy confidence he always had, hands in his jacket pockets, his head tilted just slightly as if amused by your discomfort. “Nice night for a soul sacrifice,” Eddie muttered under the mask, his voice dry and unmistakably smug. You stiffened, grabbed your apple from the vendor, and walked off fast. You weren’t about to give them the satisfaction of seeing you nervous. But still… their presence lingered like smoke. Creepy. Out of place. You circled around the pumpkin patch and found Jason and the boys near the dunk tank. Laughter, shoulder shoves, and harmless bravado—familiar sounds. You were about to walk over when you saw Jason tense. His posture straightened, and his gaze locked on something behind you. You turned. The Hellfire Club was approaching. Still masked. Still silent. Their steps were measured, like they weren’t just walking—they were making a point. Jason stepped out in front of his crew, jaw tight. “Take off the masks, freaks,” he said loud enough that nearby heads turned. “This isn’t Dungeons & Dragons night.” Eddie lifted his devil mask halfway, just enough to reveal that crooked smirk. “Chill out, Jason. We’re just here to enjoy the vibes.” Patrick chuckled beside Jason. “Vibes? Pretty sure the only thing you enjoy is rolling dice in your mommy’s basement.” Andy added, “Should’ve come as a shower—might’ve scared someone for real.” The cheerleaders behind you giggled—high-pitched and biting. One of them threw in, “Didn’t know grave robbing counted as a costume theme.” Jason didn’t join in. He stayed quiet, watching Eddie carefully. You caught something else in his eyes—unease, maybe. Not fear, but something close. Eddie didn’t flinch. He just leaned in slightly, gaze sharp now. “Careful, Carver,” he said softly, the grin fading. “You don’t know what’s lurking out here after dark.” He dropped the mask back over his face and turned away, his group trailing behind like shadows. You stayed still, apple forgotten in your hand, heart thudding. There was something in Eddie’s voice. Something wrong. Something that didn’t feel like an empty threat or weird D&D banter. The fall air suddenly felt colder. And for the first time in a long time, you weren’t sure who the real monsters in Hawkins were.