BIRDIE DIDN'T EVEN REMEMBER the drive home. All she could recall was that she got in her car at the Wheeler's and got out at her house. Everything in between was a blur, including passing by Jonathan's car parked on the side of Mirkwood. Her thoughts consisted of only Morgan, Will, and the monster.

"Hiding," Eleven had said. But hiding where? And would Birdie be able to find them before someone or something else did? Half of Birdie's brain was in panic mode, trying to sort through all the strangeness it had just been introduced to while the other half was trying to rationalize it all into a neat list. Neither side was succeeding.

Birdie was so consumed by the thunderstorm of thoughts swirling in her brain that she didn't even notice her dad's car until she was parked in the driveway. Birdie groaned and slammed her forehead against the steering wheel, preparing herself for the wrath she was about to walk into. She couldn't just sneak in through her window like she had the night before. There was no way her dad hadn't noticed her car missing from the driveway when he had returned home.

Birdie contemplated just sleeping in her car but she knew she couldn't avoid punishment forever. Gravity felt ten times stronger as she forced herself out of her car and dragged herself towards the front door, her feet barely lifting off the ground with each step. She winced as the door clicked open, anticipating her father waiting on the other side, but she was surprised when the door swung open to reveal an empty entryway.

Birdie's steps felt lighter as she entered, emboldened by a wave of relief that maybe, just maybe, she had actually gotten away with it. The only light in the house came from the hallway at the top of the stairs and Birdie was drawn to it like a moth until a voice from the dining room stopped her cold.

"Where were you?"

Birdie turned to find her dad sitting at the table, surrounded by darkness. "What are you, a super villain?" Birdie scoffed, flipping the light switch on to illuminate the heavy scowl on John's face. "How long have you been waiting here in the dark?"

"Thirty-six minutes," John answered without even checking his watch. "I just about called Hopper." John rose from the table, his arms crossed over his chest as he approached Birdie. "Do you not understand that there's a kid missing? Do you not understand how serious this is?"

"I do, I just--" Birdie began when John cut her off.

"No, if you understood you wouldn't have left."

"But, Dad, I--"

"Grounded," John said, his voice firm. "For two weeks. No TV, no friends, no car. I will be driving you to school and picking you up from practice."

"You don't understand--"

"I don't want to hear it."

"MORGAN IS MISSING!" Birdie shouted, all her emotions exploding from her at once. Fear, anger, exhaustion, sadness, stress, humiliation...She felt everything and then she felt nothing. Hollowed out, she broke down, collapsing to the ground in a fit of sobs.

The hard creases in John's face softened and he rushed to pull Birdie into his arms, guiding her head to his shoulder where her tears soaked through his shirt.

"I'm s-sorry," Birdie stammered, her words muffled by John's shoulder. "I shouldn't have gone out last night. If I hadn't, n-none of this would have happened. My best friend is missing and it's my f-fault. I've been so focused on the wrong things, on only myself, I was trying to make it right but I just made things w-worse."

"Hey, hey," John said, stroking her hair. "Take a deep breath, start from the beginning. What happened?"

Birdie pulled away, gulping in air as she attempted to compose herself. John helped her into a chair, taking the seat next to her. He waited patiently for Birdie to speak, holding her hand in support. When Birdie could finally open her mouth without another sob breaking through, she explained everything that had happened in the past two days. Well, almost everything. She left out the bit about Steve, Tommy, and Carol stealing her clothes and her venture over to the Wheeler's.

"I'm going to call the station," John said when Birdie had finished speaking. He stood from his chair and grabbed the handset off the wall, his fingers punching three numbers on the keypad. "And then we need to call the Foster's."

Birdie opened her mouth to argue against it but she couldn't find the words that would get him to hang up the phone. She couldn't tell him what had really happened to Will and Morgan. Even if she hadn't made a promise to Mike, Lucas, and Dustin (which included spit, much to her disgust), there was no way that her dad would believe her. By all logic, she shouldn't either. A girl with superpowers that Birdie had yet to even see telling them that their friends had been taken by a monster? It didn't sound less crazy the more she recited it in her head but somehow the more she thought about it, the more she believed it.

Birdie sat silently at the table while her dad called the police and then the Foster's, her legs bouncing up and down and her hands fighting with each other to be on top.

"Alright, Hopper is on his way," John informed Birdie, sliding back into his seat after he hung up the phone. "He's going to take a statement from you. Just tell him what you told me."

It wasn't lost on Birdie that this would be the second time in as many days that she'd be talking to the cops about a missing kid.

Hopper arrived twenty minutes later, removing his hat as he passed through the door and into the dining room. His hair was a mess and he looked a bit disheveled, like he had thrown his uniform on in a hurry. His shirt wasn't fully tucked into his pants, his badge was crooked, and Birdie could almost swear that she saw the faint smear of lipstick on his neck.

"Hey kid," Hopper greeted Birdie with a small smile as he took a seat. He set his hat down on the table and folded his hands together. "Sorry we have to meet again under these circumstances."

"No Powell and Callahan?" Birdie asked, glancing over Hopper's shoulder. She had expected to see Thing 1 and Thing 2 appear behind him but Hopper seemed to be alone.

"They went over to the Foster's," Hopper explained, pulling a notepad and a pen out of his pocket. "So how about you tell me what happened last night?"

Birdie reiterated the modified story she had told John, although his time she kept in the bits about the noise and the flashlights since she had already told Hopper about the strange occurrences when he had interviewed her about Will the day before.

"Hmm," Hopper said when she finished, his brows furrowed and his mouth pressed shut in thought.

"What are you thinking, Jim?" John asked from across the table.

"I'm thinking that nothing used to happen in this town and now everything is happening," Hopper answered with a sigh, drumming his fingers on the brim of his hat. "First Will, then Benny, now Morgan..."

"Benny?" Birdie asked, her head cocking in confusion. "What happened to Benny?"

Hopper's lips parted and he glanced over to John, unsure whether he should continue. John nodded his head, giving Hopper permission to explain.

"Benny passed away," Hopper answered, choosing his words carefully. "We found him in his restaurant earlier today. Suicide, it looks like."

"Suicide?"

"It also took me by surprise when Hopper told me," John piped up. "Benny always seemed like such a happy guy. Just goes to show how important it is to check in with each other. You never know what pain people might be carrying inside."

"But that doesn't make sense."

"If you need to talk about it, we can--"

Birdie cut John off before he could continue. "No," she said with a shake of her head. "When I saw Benny on Sunday he told me he was looking forward to the game on Friday. Why would he say that if he was planning to kill himself in a day or two?"

Hopper exchanged a glance with John before writing something down on his notepad. "Benny's isn't too far from where Will and Morgan went missing," Hopper mused out loud. "And they're all not too far from that Lab..."

"There was that piece of fabric that Scott Clarke found in the drainage pipe leading to the Lab..."

Hopper snatched his hat off the table and stood from his seat. "Do you have any plans tomorrow, John?"

"I've got some sick time to burn," John replied.

"Good. I have a feeling that the U.S. Department of Energy isn't going to roll over so easily, we may need a good lawyer," Hopper said, a mischievous grin forming on his face. "Or you."

"Oh, you'll need me all right," John retorted with his own sly smile. "They'll take one look at you and lock the doors."

Hopper stayed a little while longer to cement the plan for the next day with John but Birdie could sense that he had somewhere he wanted to get back to. Possibly even someone if she was right about the pink splotch on his neck.

It had been fairly late when Hopper had arrived and it was even later when he left. Birdie's arms stretched towards the ceiling, a yawn expelling itself from her body. She hadn't realized how tired she was until just then but despite her exhaustion, she knew she was in for a sleepless night.

John bade Birdie goodnight, informing her that she was still grounded but agreeing to loosen up on some of the restrictions. She still wasn't allowed to use her car or watch TV, but she could hang out with friends and her punishment had been reduced from two weeks to one.

Birdie faked gratitude as she hugged him once more before heading to bed. Whether she was grounded for one week or one hundred, the punishment didn't matter. She was going to be getting into much more trouble in the days to come.

JOHN DROPPED BIRDIE OFF AT SCHOOL with the promise that he'd be back to pick her up after practice. Birdie hated that she had to be driven to school like a child but she played nice. She understood that this was more for her father's sanity than a punishment towards her.

If Birdie had three guesses as to who would be waiting for her at her locker the next morning, her first guess would have been nobody, followed by Valeria, and then lastly, the Queen of England. Never in a million years would she have guessed who was actually waiting for her.

"I don't have any more clothes for you to steal, Harrington," Birdie muttered as she brushed past him to get to her locker. She avoided making eye contact with Steve, both because she didn't want to dignify him with her attention and because her cheeks were bright red. She was still embarrassed that he had seen her underwear.

"I just want to talk," Steve said.

"Congratulations, you're doing so right now. What problem can I help you solve next?"

Steve rolled his eyes, mumbling something under his breath that Birdie couldn't quite hear. "Look, I'm sorry about yesterday," Steve began. "I didn't know Tommy and Carol were going to do that."

"Oh, just like you didn't know that Tommy and Carol were going to destroy Valeria's science project in the ninth grade or that Tommy and Carol were going to run Morgan's backpack up the flagpole last year?" Birdie snapped, finally turning to look at him. Her eyes bored into him and Steve's face went slack, his skin turning pale. "After a certain point you can't keep using, 'I didn't know' as an excuse."

"Don't act like you're so innocent in all of this, Birdie," Steve retorted, color returning to his cheeks as his anger rose to the surface. "Or have you conveniently forgotten the eighth grade spring dance when you and your little friends dumped the punch bowl over my head?"

"That was because you threw water balloons filled with piss at my team during the championship game!"

"I didn't throw any of those balloons, that was all Tommy and Carol! And they only did it because you TP'ed my house the night before! My dad made me miss my game to clean it all up!"

"I didn't do that, that was Valeria! And she only did it because you spread the rumor around school that I cheated during the free throw contest!"

"Again, not me. Well, not totally me...I was frustrated and Tommy took it too far. But you kind of deserved it after you left that dirty diaper in my locker. My locker stank for weeks."

"Well, that was because--" Birdie began when she paused, unable to recall what had happened prior. In fact, she couldn't entirely remember how it had all begun. She always assumed Steve hated her because she played better than him but reflecting on some of the things they had done to each other in the past, maybe that wasn't the only reason. Maybe their rivalry wasn't entirely Steve's fault. But with Morgan missing, Birdie didn't have time to sort through it in that moment. "I don't have time for this."

Birdie stormed off, not even having opened her locker to grab the books she'd need for first period. Steve lingered for a minute, a single "Dammit" muttered under his breath before he too, left.

The rest of the day passed with Birdie trying her hardest to get through each class but she found herself watching the clock more than the whiteboard. The only times her eyes weren't glued to the ticking hands were in third period gym and fourth period shop. In third period, her eyes continued to follow Steve and Tommy, weary of anything else they might have planned. But after their conversation that morning, Steve ignored Birdie and surprisingly, Tommy did too. A thought struck Birdie that she might have Steve to thank for the slight reprieve, followed by several other conflicting thoughts about him.

In fourth period, Birdie's eyes kept flickering towards Jonathan, who was present in class for the first time since Will had gone missing. Birdie looked for any opportunity to talk to him, but unfortunately for her it was the start of a new unit which meant all instruction and no work-time. She tried to catch Jonathan after class but he snuck out while she was gathering her things.

Birdie kept an eye out for Valeria throughout the day but it wasn't until she was heading to sixth period that she finally caught sight of her. They passed each other in the hallway, making brief eye contact before Valeria broke it and accelerated her pace. Birdie pondered saying something to her but by the time she made a decision, Valeria had already disappeared into the throng of students. Another missed opportunity.

When the final bell rang to mark the end of the school day, Birdie was the first one out of the classroom. She passed the women's locker room but she didn't go in. As much as it pained her, she wouldn't be going to practice that day. Her dad would be there to pick her up at 5:30 after practice ended, giving her a small window during which she could search for Morgan and Will. She would have skipped school altogether but they took attendance in every class and any absences would result in a call to her dad. She knew she was about to get into even more trouble than she had already gotten herself into, but she wanted to minimize her dad's anger as much as possible.

Birdie headed towards the parking lot, clocking the time at 2:25 as she exited the building. She had made plans to meet with Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and Eleven at 3:15 for what they dubbed, "Operation Mirkwood". If Eleven truly knew where Morgan and Will were like she claimed, the hope was that she would lead them right to them. Key word: hope. But Birdie had some time to kill before then and planned to walk to Mirkwood early to search on her own. With the sun hanging over her, she felt much braver about entering the woods by herself. Monsters didn't attack during the daylight, right?

As Birdie was walking towards the parking lot she passed Nancy at the phone booth. Birdie only heard the tail end of the conversation before Nancy hung up but the look on Nancy's face informed Birdie that it hadn't ended how she had hoped.

"Hey Birdie!" Nancy called after her. For a split second, Birdie considered just continuing on and pretending like she hadn't heard her. Every minute she wasn't looking for Morgan and Will was a minute wasted, and Birdie wasn't exactly sure how she felt about Nancy. Nancy seemed like a nice enough girl but she was dating Steve Harrington, which to Birdie, was a moral crime on par with running over somebody's dog.

"Hey Nancy," Birdie replied, slowing her pace enough for Nancy to catch up.

"This is probably a longshot but have you seen Barb at all today?"

Birdie shook her head no, a strange sense of déjà vu washing over her. "No, sorry."

Nancy nodded her head like that was the answer she had anticipated. Birdie sped up a little, assuming that to be the end of the conversation, but Nancy kept pace with her. "Did you ever, um, did you ever find Morgan?" Nancy asked next.

"No," Birdie answered. Her gut dropped. "She's still missing."

Nancy's face fell, her skin paling. "Oh, I-I'm sorry to hear that. Do you think she's okay?"

Birdie sighed. It would be easier and quicker to just say yes and leave the conversation at that, but the look on Nancy's face triggered the truth from Birdie. "No," she answered. "I don't."

Nancy stifled a cry, her pace slowing to sluggish steps. Birdie recognized that now would be the opportune time to shake her but she felt bad abandoning the girl when she was on the verge of tears. "What's wrong?" Birdie asked, coming to a halt.

"I don't think Barb is okay either," she answered in a whisper, as if she were trying to prevent the universe from hearing.

"What happened?"

"We went to a party at Steve's last night," Nancy explained. "Barb didn't want to go but I begged her to. I wasn't being a very good friend so I couldn't tell at the time, but looking back on it now it's clear that she wasn't enjoying herself. I told her she could go home without me and I thought she did but..."

"But she wasn't at school today and her parents haven't seen her either?" Birdie finished for her. She was practically drowning in déjà vu at this point.

Nancy's lips parted in surprise, as if Birdie had read her mind. "How did you--" Nancy began when she realized the answer to her own question. "Never mind."

"Listen..." Birdie began. She couldn't tell Nancy the whole truth but she felt the need to give her some reassurance. "The whole town is already out looking and they're not going to leave any stones unturned."

Nancy took a deep breath and nodded her head, forcing a small smile onto her face. "You're right. Thanks, Birdie."

Nancy was headed in the same direction as Birdie, so they continued to walk across the parking lot together, making small talk about school and the weather to distract themselves from the conversation they had started with. The distraction worked well, because Birdie didn't even realize who they were headed towards until they were already practically there: Steve, Tommy, Carol, and a redheaded girl that Birdie recognized but couldn't place the name of.

After her encounter with Steve that morning, Birdie wanted to veer away but then she noticed Jonathan. His posture was slack and his sight was fixed on the ground at his feet. Birdie recognized Jonathan's bag sitting on the trunk of his Ford LTD, which Steve and his cronies were blocking him from. They all held what appeared to be stacks of photographs in their hands.

"What's going on?" Nancy asked, her eyes flickering between Steve and Jonathan. The tension in the air was so thick that Birdie felt the need to cough.

"Here's the starring lady," Tommy smiled.

"What?"

"This creep was spying on us last night," Carol answered between smacks of gum, her eyes glancing over to Jonathan. She handed Nancy a photograph from the pile she was holding. "He was probably gonna save this one for later."

Birdie craned her neck to see the photo over Nancy's shoulder and her cheeks flushed. The image was grainy, but it featured a girl undressing. She was framed by a window, her shirt pulled up far enough to see her bra. The girl's back was facing the camera but based on Tommy's comment, Birdie knew it to be Nancy. She quickly looked away so as not to further invade Nancy's privacy.

"See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong but that's the thing about perverts..." Steve said, sucking his teeth. He pushed himself off of Jonathan's car, closing the gap between himself and Jonathan with a look of contempt on his face. "It's hardwired into them. You know, they just can't help themselves."

Steve ripped the photographs he was holding in two, his eyes never leaving Jonathan. He continued to tear at them until they were too small to rip any further, at which point he let the wind scatter them across the parking lot. "So," Steve continued. "We'll just have to take away his toy."

"Steve..." Nancy said, her eyes pleading with him to stop.

"No, please, not the camera," Jonathan begged as Steve turned back towards Jonathan's bag. Jonathan moved to stop him but Tommy blocked his path.

"No, no, wait, wait, hey, Tommy, Tommy. It's okay," Steve called out and Tommy backed off, albeit reluctantly. Steve grabbed the camera from Jonathan's bag and held it out for him but there was a look in his eye that Birdie didn't trust. "Here you go, man."

Jonathan went to grab the camera but Steve let go before Jonathan's fingers could touch it. The camera dropped to the ground, the lens shattering and scattering tiny shards of glass across the pavement. Upon viewing the spectacle, Carol's and Tommy's response was to snicker and Nancy's was to freeze in shock. Birdie's response was more complicated. Her chest burned with anger but she wasn't entirely sure who the anger was directed towards. Steve, for breaking the camera or Jonathan, for taking the inappropriate pictures? She was beginning to realize that they had grown apart much more than she thought.

"Come on, let's go. The football game is about to start," Steve said to the others, a look of guilt crossing his face for a split second before he turned away.

"Boo," Tommy said as he passed Jonathan. "Dirty Birdie," Tommy nodded as he passed Birdie.

Carol and the redhead followed after, shredding the remaining photos in their hands and leaving Birdie, Nancy, and Jonathan to stare at the mess.

Once they were gone, Jonathan immediately dropped to the ground and began sweeping together the fragments of photographs.

"Hey, Nance!" Steve's shout echoed across the parking lot and Nancy bent down to grab what Birdie assumed to be some of the more incriminating photos before jogging away.

"What assholes," Birdie muttered as she leaned down to help. She gathered the pieces together, trying her hardest not to look too closely in case there were any other sultry images, but one piece in particular caught her eye. "Jonathan, are all these photos from last night at Steve's?"

"Yeah, why?" Jonathan asked, still refusing to make eye contact with her. His cheeks burned with shame and embarrassment.

Birdie picked the torn photo up off the ground, her hand shaking as she held it closer to her face. Half of the picture was missing, but clear as day at the center, was Valeria. She looked to be standing at edge of the pool, her body turned towards the house but her head glancing over her shoulder towards the woods. There was something in her hand, but it was too dark to make out what it was.

Birdie showed the picture to Jonathan. "Do you know what Valeria was doing there?"

Jonathan studied the picture before shaking his head no. "No," he answered. "I wasn't able to see the whole yard very well and I couldn't hear much. I didn't even notice her until after the others went inside and she disappeared shortly after that."

Having gathered as many of the pieces as they could, the two stood to their feet. An awkward silence filled with multiple failed attempts to make eye contact passed between the two until Jonathan broke it. "Birdie, I..."

"Jonathan," Birdie stopped him. "I don't think I'm the one you should be apologizing to."

Jonathan nodded his head sheepishly, his eyes darting towards the football stadium. He grabbed his bag from the trunk and shoved the pictures he had collected inside, along with what was left of his camera. Birdie handed him the rest but she held onto the piece that featured Valeria.

Jonathan tossed his bag into the back seat of his Ford LTD, offering Birdie a weak wave and a tight-lipped smile before opening the driver's door and getting inside.

"Wait," Birdie blurted out, stopping Jonathan before he could shut the door. Jonathan stared up at her inquisitively from the seat. "I'm sorry about Will. If you ever need any help..."

Jonathan's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he glanced over to a large stack of papers sitting in the passenger seat. "I was actually going to drive around town to hang up flyers, if you wanted to come with."

Birdie wasn't able to see the flyers very well through the window but she saw enough to recognize them as copies of the missing poster that hung on the school bulletin board.

Birdie glanced at her watch. The debacle with Steve and Jonathan had eaten up six minutes and it was now 2:31, which gave her only 44 minutes before she was supposed to meet up with Mike, Lucas, Dustin, and Eleven. It might be cutting it a little close but she figured it was doable.

"Sure, I'll come with," Birdie answered, eliciting a small smile of appreciation from Jonathan. She then remembered that she didn't have her car. "Do you mind if I catch a ride with you?"

"Sure," Jonathan answered. "I was thinking we could head downtown and hang some flyers around the shops and the library."

"Sounds like a plan."

After moving the stack of flyers to the back, Birdie climbed into the passenger seat and they were on their way. The ride was quick and mostly silent, with both wanting to say something to the other but unsure whether they should.

Birdie was hopeful that hanging flyers wouldn't take too long and that she'd be able to catch up with Mike, Eleven, Lucas, and Dustin afterwards. The urge to tell Jonathan about Operation Mirkwood was strong but she suppressed it. She didn't want to get Jonathan's hopes up in case the search amounted to nothing; something she was also trying to prepare herself for.

After circling for a parking spot, they finally found one in front of the hardware store. Once they got out of the car, Jonathan handed Birdie a stack of flyers and a roll of tape. They started in the same direction with the plan to split at the intersection, with Jonathan heading towards the library and Birdie heading towards the movie theatre.

"I heard about Morgan," Jonathan said at last, his eyes flickering towards Birdie and then to the ground. "I'm sorry. If you want, I can help you make some flyers and we can pass them out with Will's."

Birdie was a bit surprised but then again, news traveled fast in a small town. She wasn't going to be the only one to notice Morgan's absence. "Um, thanks," Birdie replied after clearing her throat. "But I don't think I'm quite prepared for that yet. And I should probably talk to Morgan's parents about it first."

It was at this point that they reached the intersection. They paused for a brief moment, waiting for the other to say something more and when neither did, they split off in opposite directions. Birdie handed out flyers to those she passed on the sidewalk, asking each and every person whether they had seen Will but the only answers she received were pitiful looks and shaking heads. She taped the posters to sign posts and public bulletin boards, stopping in businesses to ask clerks whether they could hang some in their store. She made sure that Will's face was everywhere.

By the time Birdie made it to the movie theatre, her stack was nearly gone. She gave the remaining flyers to the girl in the ticket booth, who she vaguely recognized as a freshman band member named Robin Buckley, before turning back towards Jonathan's car to get more. Since she didn't have a watch she was in a bit of a rush, not wanting to miss out on meeting up with the kids, and in her haste she accidentally ran into somebody coming out of the board game shop.

"Shit, sorry," Birdie apologized after re-righting herself. When she was back on stable footing, she noticed that the person she had nearly toppled over was a senior named Eddie Munson. They didn't run in the same circles but his presence at school was hard to miss.

"No worries," Eddie replied, picking up the book that Birdie had accidentally knocked out of his hands. Birdie offered Eddie a tight-lipped smile in appreciation and was about to continue on her way when she noticed the title of the book: Advanced Dungeons & Dragons Players Handbook.

"Wait, you're part of that Dungeons & Dragons club at school, right?"

"Hellfire," Eddie confirmed with a nod of his head. He slapped his chest with pride. "Founder and President."

"So you know a lot about Dungeons & Dragons, then?"

Eddie laughed in response. "I might not be on track to graduate this spring but if this brain is full of any knowledge, it's Dungeons & Dragons."

"What can you tell me about the Demogorgon?"

Eddie paused to consider Birdie. "You surprise me, superstar," he replied at last. "I didn't take you for the D&D type."

"Call it a budding interest."

"Standing at eighteen feet tall with reptilian tentacles and two baboon heads named Aameul and Hethradiah, the Demogorgon is a timorous beastie," Eddie described with the theatrics of an announcer in a boxing ring, his eyes glowing with excitement. "According to the original edition of the game, he was one of the first two demon lords, often referred to as the 'Prince of Demons'."

Birdie's face paled at the description. While it was a bit difficult to believe that some sort of two-headed monkey-lizard was running around Hawkins, she had been trying to open herself up to any and all possibilities. If hunting down such a fantastical creature was what it took to get Morgan back, then so be it.

"Is there any way to defeat it?" Birdie asked.

Eddie stroked his upper lip in contemplation. "He's supposedly immune to poison, death rays, and petrification. Although, I had a buddy who played against him in a campaign a few years back that had some success with fire..."

"Fire," Birdie noted. "Got it. And say, I don't know, the Demogorgon was here in Hawkins...where would it set up camp?"

Eddie's brows furrowed at the strangeness of the question but he played along without protest. "In the game he lives in the depths of the Abyss and while Hawkins is a shithole, I don't think there's anywhere that quite equates. But he does have an assortment of magical and psionic abilities so it's possible that he could transport between realms..."

"So he could like...blip here and take somebody...and then blip into another world with them?" Birdie asked for clarification. The black underbelly of the board that Eleven had placed the cleric and the thief on was beginning to make more sense.

"Technically speaking, yes..." Eddie replied, his confusion growing. "Is this for a campaign?"

"Um, yeah," Birdie answered, her tone less than convincing despite the smile pressed onto her face. Eddie looked like he wanted to ask more questions but Birdie was running out of time. Racing away down the sidewalk, she called behind her, "Thanks for your help!"

Birdie and Jonathan had evidently moved at a similar pace, because when Birdie returned to his car, he was there grabbing more flyers as well.

"Need more?" he asked, holding up a stack for her.

Birdie nodded her head and reached for the stack of flyers when something caught her eye and her hand paused mid-air. It was so mundane. To anybody else, it wasn't anything to bat an eye over. It shouldn't have stood out to her but it did.

A cherry red bicycle with a wire basket strapped to the handlebars.

AUTHOR'S NOTE !
Holy crap, do I have some exciting plans for this story. I've been plotting and planning like a cartoon supervillain, with the spinning chair and the fluffy white cat and everything.

Also hope you guys enjoyed the little cameos from Robin and Eddie! I couldn't help but include them even though they won't really join the action until later.

Thanks for reading! ❤️