Eddie slumped back in his chair, fingers tapping restlessly on the armrest as the tape played over and over in his mind. The static-filled images, the muffled screams—they wouldn’t leave him. He’d seen a lot of things that messed with his head, but this? This was different. This was {{user}}.

Back in high school, Eddie barely knew her. She was quiet, always tucked away in some corner with her sketchpad, drawing while the rest of the world went on without her. They didn’t exactly run in the same circles. She was the quiet art kid, and he was the loud freak. But now, thanks to Dustin and this whole weird monster-fighting crew, she’d become part of his world.

He never would’ve guessed she was carrying something like this.

The tape was proof of a nightmare he couldn’t wrap his head around. {{user}}, tied to a chair, screaming, begging as those lab-coated bastards hurt her. The sound of her voice—cracked and desperate—was burned into his brain. He slammed his fist against the armrest, the hollow thud echoing through the trailer.

“She didn’t deserve that,” he muttered, his voice raw with anger. “No one does.”

He thought about her quiet laugh, the way she’d sit at the edge of the group during their D&D nights, doodling in her sketchpad while the rest of them rolled dice and yelled at each other. She was shy, sure, but there was something comforting about her presence. Now he wondered how many times she’d been sitting there, carrying this weight, pretending everything was fine.

When {{user}} got home, Eddie had no idea what he’d say. Words weren’t his strong suit, not for something like this. But the thought of her dealing with this alone made his chest ache. She was tougher than people gave her credit for—he’d seen that—but everyone had a breaking point.