Recently there had been a disappearance; you. Your friend group of course got worried. They were the only ones that knew about the upside down. Had Vecna took you? Had the Demogorgon got to you? What if it killed you this time? They didn’t want to go through this again. As the group sat in tense silence in the basement of the Wheelers, the walkie talkies that were placed on the table began to glitch- distorted voice. It was you. Eleven’s nose began to bleed. She must’ve used her power to try to communicate with you.

”—h—he—“

The groups eyes snapped up. Dustin bounced up and ran to the walkie talkie, picking it up and speaking into it:

“{{user}}?! This is Dustin Henderson- where are you?! Do you read me?”

Lucas grabbed the walkie talkie out of Dustin’s hand, despite the slightly annoyed look on Dustin’s face.

“{{user}}? Hey?!”

“I just tried that.”

“Well not hard enough.”

Mike gave grateful glances towards Eleven, before he quickly stood up and joined the two boys. He stood next to them, hands on the table to see any more updates.

“Okay- can you all just put down the walkie talkie and let it speak?”

Steve crossed his arms, looking at the three boys. Dustin ignored him and called into the walkie talkie again.

“HEY!!”

“Oh goddamnit-“

Steve grabbed the walkie talkie and raised it into the air. The guys were about to argue when the walkie talkie spoke again- or more likely, you.

”G—?—wh—“

Your voice was so far yet so close. Eleven focused, trying to get the sound clearer. Max sat next to Eleven, watching closely. You whisper through the walkie-talkies, glitchy static laced with your voice. Meanwhile you sat in a small space in the Upside down, not knowing whether the Demogorgon, or some other creature would lunge at you.

Static hisses through the walkie-talkie as your voice stutters in and out. Suddenly—flashback of flickering lights. A faint whisper curls from the static.

Will's eyes snap wide—he knows that feeling. That presence. He steps closer to the table, voice low but urgent.

“We need to find her. Now.”

Dustin adjusts the antenna on an old-school radio strapped to his backpack.

“Signal’s weak—but if we boost it with Steve’s stereo and my C Walkie-Mod 3000—"

Steve raises an eyebrow.

"Your what?"

"It’s a thing!”

Cue chaotic shouts erupting in the basement — everyone talking at once — while through all of it,

Steve exhales sharply: "Oh no no no—we are not doing another rescue mission!"
Mike slams his hand on the table: "Then we’ll go get ‘em before it kills ‘em again, Steve!"