Chapter 55

yall were getting a lot of jealous nancy this season😋

The sound cuts through the cabin like a blade.

Steve’s head jerks toward the window.

“Shit,” he hisses, already scrambling to his feet.

“Get the tarp!” Robin shouts, her voice sharp with urgency.

Eddie doesn’t hesitate. He dives toward the boat in the corner of the room, his temporary makeshift shelter, and flattens himself down inside it. Robin’s already tossing the tarp over him, hands moving fast. The musty plastic muffles Eddie from sight just as the wail of sirens grows closer, echoing off the trees outside.

They all freeze.

Maggie’s breath catches in her throat as she joins the others at the grimy cabin window. Four heads press close, peering between the warped wooden slats and faded curtains.

A line of flashing red and blue lights races past the cabin, three police cruisers and an ambulance.

They watch in stunned silence as the convoy disappears down the long dirt road, heading east, away from the cabin.

Robin is the first to speak, “Okay… that was not what I expected.”

“I thought they were coming for Eddie,” Steve says, forehead creased.

“We all did,” Max mutters, eyes narrowing, “So why are they heading that way?”

Without waiting for a response, Steve grabs his keys off the counter, “Let’s find out.”

They all bolt from the cabin in a rush of footsteps. The tarp shifts slightly behind them as Eddie peeks out, but they’re already gone.

Steve’s BMW screeches down the gravel road, kicking up dust as they chase the path of the sirens. Maggie sits in the back seat, her knees bouncing with tension. She keeps glancing at the flashing lights ahead, then to the side where Max stares silently out the window. Robin rides shotgun, chewing the corner of her lip.

After a few minutes, they pull up to the edge of a wooded clearing now overtaken by flashing lights and yellow tape. It’s a full-blown crime scene.

Dozens of people mill about, officers, EMTs, onlookers. The group climbs out slowly, taking in the chaos.

Maggie’s frantic eyes scan the scene before they land on one girl.

“Nance!” She calls, already stepping forward.

She envelops her in a hug, alreading seeing worry that’s eating away at Nancy’s expression.

“Hey,” Nancy says, voice low, “You guys shouldn’t really be here.”

“What happened?” Maggie asks as she pulls away, subtly inspecting her girlfriend for injuries.

Nancy hesitates for just a second, “It’s Fred. After he disappeared I thought the worst and I was right. They found him out here and he—he was just like Chrissy.”

Everyone stiffens.

“His bones,” she whispers, “His face. It’s like it was all… twisted.”

A chill rushes down Maggie’s spine like ice water dripping straight into her bloodstream. It starts in her chest, slow and cold, before spilling into her limbs, turning her hands clammy and her breath shallow.

She locks eyes with Dustin. His usual light-hearted spark is gone, replaced by a grim sort of understanding. Then her gaze flicks to Steve, his jaw clenched, lips pressed in a tight line, like he already knows what she’s about to say. Robin stands just behind him, chewing nervously at her thumbnail, wide eyes scanning the treeline.

This isn’t a coincidence. Not a one-off killing. It’s a pattern.

Suddenly, a sharp stab of pain cleaves through Maggie’s skull, so fast and fierce it nearly knocks her off balance. She winces, a soft sound escaping her throat as she presses her fingertips to her temples, the ache radiating from behind her eyes like white-hot static. It feels like something is trying to claw its way to the surface of her brain.

“Vecna,” Robin murmurs under her breath.

Maggie straightens, despite the pain, forcing herself upright. Her vision wavers at the edges, but her voice is calm and steady.

“Nancy,” she says, “We’ve got some probably-not-so-good news.”

Nancy looks up, sensing the shift in the group’s energy, “Yeah?”

Maggie nods slowly, the throb in her skull intensifying, but she doesn’t flinch, “This isn’t some psycho in a mask. It’s not a drug deal gone wrong or some freak accident. It’s something else. Something that’s been here before.”

She exhales, feeling the ache deepen.

EMTs cluster by the ambulance, their voices hushed and horrified, like they’ve seen something they don’t know how to explain.

“…And if we’re right,” Maggie finishes, voice completely void of her usual jokes, “then it’s not going to stop.”

Nancy stares at her for a long moment.

Her fingers tighten on the strap of her camera, “You’re telling me the thing that killed Fred and Chrissy… it’s from the Upside Down?”

They move to a weathered picnic table near the scene, far enough from the crowd to talk but close enough to feel the unease. They gather around it with hushed voices and heavy thoughts.

Maggie lowers herself onto the bench beside Nancy. Her shoulder brushes hers, but her focus is somewhere else, inside her own head. The pounding won’t stop. It echoes like a drumbeat behind her eyes. Then she feels something warm trickling down her lip.

She swipes at it absently with the sleeve of her jacket and looks down. Blood.

Her stomach tightens. A nosebleed. She stares at the crimson smear staining the fabric, her gut screaming a warning. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong.

Nancy glances over with a tight worry, but Maggie just gives her a sweet smile to reassure her.

Dustin jumps in, “Our working theory is that Vecna attacks with a kind of… spell. Or curse. Like, psychic murder. Now, whether he’s working for the Mind Flayer or just some psycho wizard on a teen-killing spree? We don’t know.”

“All we know,” Max cuts in, arms crossed over her chest, “is this is something different. Something new.”

Nancy frowns, shaking her head, “It doesn’t make sense.”

Dustin leans forward, “It’s only a theory.”

“No,” Nancy replies firmly, still shaking her head, “Fred and Chrissy don’t make sense. I mean, why them? They didn’t hang out. They weren’t even the same kind of people.”

“Maybe they were both just in the wrong place at the wrong time,” Dustin suggests, though he doesn’t sound convinced himself, “They were both at the game…”

Max frowns, brows drawn tigh,. “And near the trailer park.”

“We’re at the trailer park,” Steve mutters, glancing around, “Should we, uh, maybe not be here?”

“There’s something about this place,” Nancy says slowly, “Fred started acting weird the moment we got here. It was like… something changed in him.”

Maggie leans in, “Weird as in…?”

Nancy answers, “Scared. On edge. He kept looking over his shoulder, flinching at things that weren’t there.”

Dustin perks up, “Max said Chrissy was upset too.”

Max nods, “Yeah, but not here. She was crying in the bathroom at school. Like full-on sobbing. She looked… haunted.”

Robin pieces it together, “Serial killers stalk their victims, right? So maybe Fred and Chrissy saw this Vecman before—”

“Vecna,” Dustin corrects quickly, raising a finger.

Steve throws his hands up, “I don’t know about you, but if I saw some freaky demon wizard crawling out of my wall, I’d tell someone.”

“Maybe they did,” Maggie suggests, eyes wide as a sudden realization flickers to life in her mind.

The others turn to her.

“Max, you saw Chrissy leaving the school counselor’s office last week,” she says slowly, “If you saw a monster, something no one would believe, you wouldn’t go to the cops.”

Max tilts her head, “But you might go to your shrink.”

They all fall silent.

Maggie looks down again at the blood on her sleeve, and a cold certainty settles into her bones.

This thing, Vecna, was hunting them from the inside.

And if Fred and Chrissy were just the beginning, then the nightmare is only just starting.

The group gets up to leave, eager to put distance between themselves and the now miserable, foreboding trailer park. Gravel crunches under their shoes as they follow Steve toward the car.

Then Nancy veers off.

“Nance, where are you going?” Maggie asks, slowing, eyes tracking her as she heads in the opposite direction.

“I just need to check on something,” Nancy says, hands shoved into her jacket pockets, not stopping.

Dustin throws his hands up, “Something you maybe wanna share with the rest of us?”

“I don’t want to waste your time,” Nancy replies, “It’s a shot in the dark.”

“Yeah, no,” Steve says immediately, “Are you out of your mind? Flying solo with Vecna out there? Absolutely not. You need someone to—”

Nancy looks at him, caught off guard. So does Maggie.

Steve clears his throat, then tosses the car keys toward Maggie, “Here. I’ll stick with Nance. You guys take the car, check out the shrink.”

Something sharp twists in Maggie’s stomach. It’s not that she doesn’t trust Steve. It’s that she knows he has, and maybe still has, feelings for Nancy. And Maggie isn’t about to let that be a variable.

She reaches out, intercepts the keys midair, and drops them into Robin’s hand with a tight, sarcastic smile, “Uh, no. I’ll be sticking with Nancy. If you’re going, I’m going. Nice try, Stevie.”

She steps closer to Nancy, shoulders brushing deliberately.

Robin looks down at the keys, then up at Steve, “Yeah, uh… Steve? You don’t want me driving your car.”

“Why?” Steve asks, shrugging.

“I don’t have a license,” Robin says.

Steve stares, “Why don’t you have a license?”

“I’m poor,” she replies simply.

“I can drive,” Max offers helpfully.

“No. No. Never again,” Steve says immediately, “Please. Anybody but you.”

Dustin opens his mouth.

“No chance,” Steve says without even looking at him.

Robin sighs and shoves the keys back into Steve’s chest, “Okay, you know what? Fine. Us ladies will stick together.”

She tilts her head, “Unless you think we need you to protect us.”

Steve gives her a look, “I wasn’t—”

Robin has already moved, stepping up beside Maggie. Nancy pulls one hand from her pocket and instinctively hooks her fingers into Maggie’s sleeve, tugging her closer.

The three of them turn to walk away. Maggie doesn’t look back, just lifts her hand and flips Steve off over her shoulder.

“Be careful!” Steve calls after them.

Nancy doesn’t respond. She just tightens her grip on Maggie’s arm as they disappear down the path.

The girls climb into Nancy’s car, Maggie in the front passenger seat of course, as Robin already starts talking before the doors are even fully shut.

“So where are we going?” Robin asks, already half-unbuckled and leaning forward like she might crawl into the front seat if allowed.

“The library,” Nancy answers, clipped, eyes on the road as she pulls out of the trailer park.

Robin smiles brightly, “You know, I think this is great. It’s never just us girls together. Like a real research trio,” She gestures vaguely with both hands, “Very Scooby-Doo, minus the dog. Or the mystery van. Or Fred. Which honestly improves the situation.”

Nancy reaches over without looking and firmly grabs Maggie’s leg.

Maggie smirks, not even turning her head. She lets the contact linger. Her knee nudges Nancy’s hand in quiet acknowledgment. A silent hi, I know, relax.

Robin, tragically oblivious, leans farther between the seats, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love the boys, but they’re kind of useless when it comes to actual research. No offense to Dustin, but he’s a spaz, and I genuinely don’t know if Steve even knows how to read.”

Maggie snorts, “Hey, he can read. Slowly with pictures.”

“See,” Robin says, delighted, “And that’s why Maggie belongs on the brain team.”

Nancy’s grip tightens just a fraction.

“Well, at least they mean well,” Maggie adds, “Although now I’m inclined to give Steve a reading test. Just to check.”

Robin laughs, “I volunteer to administer it.”

Nancy clears her throat sharply, “Can we stay on topic?”

Robin quirks a brow, “We are. Topic is intellectual superiority.”

Maggie glances at Nancy, amused, “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Nancy says immediately.

Robin keeps going, blissfully unaware, “And Maggie, you’re actually good at this stuff. Like, scary good. Remember that time you found that obituary in three minutes flat?”

Maggie shrugs, “I have a gift. It’s called being nosy with a dash of creepiness.”

“And no sense of self-preservation,” Nancy adds, a little too fast.

Robin nods, “That too. It’s very charming.”

Nancy’s jaw tightens, “She also doesn’t sleep.”

Maggie finally turns her head, eyebrow quirking. There’s humor there, but also a quiet question underneath it. You good?

Robin squints, “Is this a fun fact or a complaint?”

“It’s an observation,” Nancy says, eyes still on the road.

“Uh-huh,” Robin says, unconvinced, “Because it sounded a little like you were… what’s the word… territorial.”

Nancy shoots her a look through the rearview mirror, “Focus, Robin.”

Maggie bites her lip, clearly enjoying this more than she should.

They drive in silence for a moment, trees blurring past the windows. The library appears in the distance.

Robin claps her hands once, “Okay, serious time. What exactly are we looking for?”

Nancy exhales, shoulders squaring as she slips fully into reporter mode, “Victor Creel. His family was murdered in 1959 in the same way as Fred and Chrissy. Eyes, limbs, everything. He was arrested and sent to Pennhurst Asylum.”

“And let me guess,” Robin says, “the system failed spectacularly.”

“I talked to Wayne Munson,” Nancy continues, “He thinks Creel escaped. That Pennhurst covered it up. And that Creel is the one committing the murders now.”

Robin whistles low, “Awesome. Love a vintage serial killer.”

Maggie nods thoughtfully, “If he’s alive, he’d be… what, seventy?”

“Sixty-seven,” Nancy corrects immediately.

Robin tilts her head, “Wow. You really did your homework.”

Nancy stiffens slightly, “Someone had to.”

Maggie smiles at her, “You always do.”

Robin clocks that look instantly and grins to herself, “Okay but counterpoint. Maggie’s also been doing research in a way. Like, independently. Without supervision.”

Nancy’s fingers drum against the steering wheel, “I know.”

“Do you,” Robin asks lightly, “or are you learning this information in real time?”

Nancy pulls into the parking lot a little harder than necessary, “I know.”

The library looms ahead, brick and smug. Nancy parks, kills the engine, and finally lets go of Maggie’s leg.

Maggie leans closer anyway, voice low, “You’re being weird.”

Nancy turns to her, “I’m being focused.”

“You’re being jealous,” Maggie says softly, not teasing.

Robin opens the back door, “I can still hear you, by the way.”

Nancy glares. Maggie smiles sweetly.

Robin hops out and starts toward the entrance, “Come on, Wheeler. The ghosts of traumatized 1950s children await.”

As they follow, Maggie lingers half a step behind Nancy, brushing her hand against hers in a way that looks accidental and absolutely is not.

Nancy hesitates for half a second, then interlaces their fingers briefly. Her expression is calm again. All jealousy tucked neatly away where it can’t interfere for now.

Robin watches from ahead, eyes glittering with way too much understanding.

They stroll up to the front desk, shoes echoing too loudly in the otherwise dead-quiet library. Nancy rings the bell once.

Robin rocks back on her heels, “So, just to recap. Creel is a grandpa murderer who may or may not be invisible and can make people float in the air.”

Maggie tilts her head, “You forgot the part where he’s apparently powered by unresolved trauma.”

Nancy presses the bell again, lips tight, “It doesn’t make sense. I know.”

Robin nods rapidly, “Right, and normally when you say ‘shot in the dark,’ I assume you’re being modest. Like you’ve got something rock-solid tucked away that you’re gonna wow us with later.”

Maggie glances at Nancy, “With a color-coded folder.”

“And a devastating conclusion,” Robin adds.

“But this,” Robin continues, gesturing vaguely, “is really a shot in the dark. Like, we’re snipers with blindfolds who’ve been spun around fifty times.”

Nancy starts pressing the bell repeatedly, patience evaporating.

Maggie winces, “Okay, we’re gonna get kicked out.”

“Coming!” the librarian calls from somewhere in the depths of the building.

Nancy straightens instantly, composure snapping back into place.

“Hi, sorry,” she says when the librarian appears, “We’re in a bit of a hurry. Could we get the key to the basement archives?”

“Of course,” the librarian replies, “Give me one second.”

She disappears again.

The second she’s gone, Robin leans in, lowering her voice, “Okay. Did I come off mean or condescending?”

Nancy shrugs, not convincing anyone. “You’re fine.”

Robin squints at her, “You don’t look fine. You look like you’re one comment away from shoving me into a microfiche machine.”

Maggie snorts, covering it by clearing her throat, “Honestly, deserved way to go.”

Nancy shoots her a look. Maggie lifts her hands innocently.

Robin sighs, “Okay, disclaimer. I don’t really have a filter or a strong grasp on social cues. So if I say something that annoys you, just know I’m aware it’s a flaw. My mother reminds me daily.”

Nancy exhales slowly, “Noted.”

The librarian returns, keys dangling, “Alright, here you go. Have fun.”

Nancy takes them with a tight smile, “Yep. We’ll try.”

Maggie watches the librarian leave, then pinches the bridge of her nose.

“This is gonna be great,” she mutters, “Nothing says go team like rummaging through a library for murder clues.

Robin grins, “See? Team morale officer.”

Nancy glances at Maggie, irritation softening just a bit, “You coming?”

Maggie drops her hand and smiles back, “Wouldn’t miss it. Someone has to make sure you don’t murder Robin before we find anything useful.”

Robin gasps, “Wow. Protective.”

Nancy turns toward the stairs without responding, but Maggie catches the faintest hint of a smile before it disappears.