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chezzywezzy · 2 years

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Yandere Eddie Munson Drabble

Word count ; 6.9k

*Edited.

“…I’m sorry. I’m flattered, really, but I just don’t really know you that well.”

The moment those words escaped her lips, Eddie was crestfallen. As confident as he tried to come off, leaning against the hallway just after club activities, in front of the love of his life, hearing those words were enough to make his small grin falter.

She didn’t know him.

Y/n, in her club outfit, couldn’t meet the man’s intense stare. She was fiddling with her shirt and her gaze was glued to the ground. The main indication of embarrassment, though, was that her cheeks flushed and darkened. At first, when Eddie was delivering his heavily recited confession, he took it as a good sign. But now, he realized that she was just trying to find her words.

Eddie cleared his throat and stood up straight. His body was rigid and his head was still digesting the revelation. Sure, it’s not like he’d ever had a real conversation with her before, but… Eddie had tried. He wrote secret admirer letters, too scared to reveal himself yet, and watched from a distance when Y/n opened them and became a blushing mess. He left small gifts, too, like when he noticed she needed some new pens and pencils. Sure, Eddie had never made it known that it was him leaving love letters and tokens of affection, but clearly, the woman had yet to realize.

“Well, uh… I, uh - we can always… get to know each other,” he mumbled, his cheek flushing when he realized he’d have to grovel. “I just… I, uh, like you. A lot. And I’ve been the, uh, person leaving you stuff in your locker, and…”

Y/n deadpanned, and Eddie clammed up immediately. He shoved his hands into his ripped jean’s pockets, some of his rings still peaking out. He shuffled his foot against the ground, and he was sure he would have a heart attack if things didn’t go his way. He noticed how Y/n paled, though, and wondered if he finally got through to her.

She took a step back, clutching her schoolbag to her chest. She still couldn’t meet his eyes and grew even more tense. “O - oh. So that’s… you?”

“Uh, well, yeah. And I mean every word of it.”

Y/n could remember the first time she received one of the letters and gifts at the start of the school year. At first, her heart accelerated with excitement at the idea of someone having a crush on her. The handwriting was total chicken scratch and barely readable. And yet, the words were so flowery and beautiful, things she’d never been told before.

‘I like the way you dress.’

‘You have a gorgeous smile.’

‘You have the most desirable personality.’

‘You look so cute when you’re with your friends.’

‘I’ve liked you for so long and I want to be something more.’

Y/n almost did fall for the secret admirer, so very tempted to leave a letter in exchange. And yet, that’s when she noticed. How, instead of sweet, general compliments, they became specific. Too specific. It made sense that it was a classmate of her’s, so she hardly minded the comments about her falling asleep in classes, but they became so much more.

‘I love it when you run your fingers through your hair.’

‘I overheard your conversation about the new song you like. I bought it as soon as I got home.’

‘I didn’t like the way Patrick was looking at you. I think he has a thing for you.’

‘I find it cute when you have a hard time changing your shirt in a rush for club time.’

And yet, still, she paid it no mind. Each morning, she tried going at school at a different time in hopes of catching who was responsible for being a complete stalker. And yet, no matter how early or late she arrived, it was always there. It was like they always knew where she was.

And then it became even worse. They were anxious, cruel, paranoid. The letters, instead of sweet compliments scrawled on torn notebook papers it became angry, jealous essays. The first few times it started happening, she read the letters. But what she read burned into her retinas and after a few days, she feigned an illness to get away from it.

She stopped reading them, but in a way, that made her even more scared.

‘Stop talking to Patrick. I don’t want to do anything rash because I love you, doll, but you make it hard to not beat the shit out of him.’

‘I don’t like how much you hang out with your friends. You’re too close to Max and Lucas. They have some shitty altier motive.’

‘I really wish you’d stop wearing teeshirts to school. Remind me to leave you one of my sweatshirts so you stop walking around with that much skin showing.’

‘I’m sorry I’m so jealous, doll. It’s just that we’re made for each other and I hate seeing anyone look at you. If I could, I’d burn out everyone else’s eyes so only I could see you.’

‘I love you.’

Y/n was petrified. For a while, she lived ignorantly although cautiously. She figured that if she stopped reading them, the letters would disappear. Her stalker would disappear. But, instead, here that stalker was. Standing in front of her as if they weren’t a complete psycho that threatened her. and her loved ones

When Eddie first confessed, she didn’t connect the dots at all. He seemed too nervous and shy. Too innocent. They'd never interacted before, so she saw no reason for him to be the stalker. And then, when the revelation left his lips, it took every fiber of her body not to scream and run away. She’d never been the judgmental type and only knew of Eddie Munson. But clearly, he was creepy and insane and a freak.

Y/n knew not to push the limits. But she also knew not to be a pushover. She had enough confidence and slash or fear to know that giving any reciprocation for his feelings would make things worse, but so would being rude and abrupt. From the letters and gifts, Y/n knew that Eddie Munson was dangerous.

“I - I’m sorry, Eddie. I really am,” she whispered, barely audible. The man had to hunch over slightly to hear, especially with how crowded and loud the conversations in the school hallway were. “It’s just… I think you’re - well, you’re a little… creepy. The letters, um, were a little… too much.”

Eddie listened intently, although his brain short-circuited when he was once again rejected. He was scared that, for a moment, she was rejecting him because of his reputation. But, if it was just because of the letters…

Y/n was quick to realize Eddie heard what he wanted to hear. He interpreted how he wanted to interpret.

He answered with more energy than she’d hoped. "Oh. I mean, if that’s all… I can always stop. I just, uh, think we could be some power couple. I’ve, uh had a couple name in mind for years.”

“Y - years?” Y/n squeaked, once again taking a step back.

The students were beginning to disperse and the hallways were becoming empty. Everyone was heading home. Except for some exhausted teachers and friend groups, they were completely deserted. Y/n was petrified. The man standing before her was completely delusional and was seemingly refusing to take no for an answer.

Eddie tilted his head, quirking a brow. He took a step closer, eyeing the woman up and down. He easily caught on that she was a little frightened, but he didn’t think much of it. She was just confused. Maybe all of the rumors fucking Patrick and his friends were spreading around were getting to her.

“Yeah, years. I, uh, promise, doll, this isn’t just a crush. I love you. So, so much. I mean, I already planned the wedding out in my head. I was thinking something small, quaint, cute. I’d put a little more of my own flair into it, but I really only give a shit about, uh, making you happy. I mean, I thought I’d ask you once we started dating, but I overheard you talking about it with Max during a sleepover, so —“

“What?”

Eddie paused, grinning bashfully as his cheeks reddened. He had unknowingly rambled. Sure, Y/n was still baffled by the interaction, but he was sure she’d come around. She just had to. But, in reality, Y/n was on the verge of tears. She was shaking in her boots. She’d known he stalked her at school, but to know that he knew where she lived - it shook her to her core.

Eddie Munson was dangerous.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to ramble.”

“Y - you know where I live?”

Eddie tilted his head in confusion. The cogs turned, trying to decipher what was wrong. Especially now that he noticed how she continued to shrink away and how glossy her eyes were. He swallowed thickly. And that’s when it hit him.

In a panic, he raised his arms and waved them defensively. “Wait, doll, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m not a bad guy —“

That was all Y/n needed to hear. She choked back a loud sob and the tears started spilling. She couldn’t think straight, taking a few more steps away from Eddie Munson. And when he tried swiping at her to bring her back to him, she dodged, hiccuping.

Eddie grit his teeth. He tried desperately to grab her shoulder, her bag, anything. All of his confidence converted into sheer panic and concern, because in his mind, things were supposed to go a lot smoother. She was supposed to fall at his feet with love like he constantly did for her. They were supposed to kiss passionately as the mental music swelled.

And yet, instead, he could do nothing but watch, one hand outstretched toward where she once was, as she darted down the hall.

Y/n ran like her life depended on it, because in her mind, it did. She wanted to call the police immediately and get a restraining order. And yet, she didn’t want to be anywhere that she knew he could find her. That eliminated not only the school, but her home.

As she pushed open the front door of the school, she peered over her shoulder. Eddie Munson wasn’t there.

She hopped onto her bike. Her trembling body barely registered enough, and as she set off, she almost ran right into a large van. It probably belonged to the janitor. And, as she swerved through the parking lot and sped up the small hill, she glanced over her shoulder to see that Eddie Munson had finally burst out of the school entrance, panting and panicked.

Y/n gulped down, realizing she’d have to pay attention to the road. The rest of the parking lot had been bare, which made her think that surely he didn’t have a car. She’d surely have the upper hand in escaping. Besides, if she got home, she could just retreat to her parent’s warm and loving arms and call the police.

She was scared for her life. From how violent his previous letters had been, and how he carried a terrible reputation, she was worried he’d do something. He’d actually hurt her, or even worse, some of her classmates. She pulled up to a red light. She intended on going straight home, but seeing as she knew the local area well enough, she instead forced the bike onto the sidewalk and took a hard right.

She entered the more urban part of town. That wasn’t really where she lived, but some of her friends did and she knew the area well-enough. She kept speeding down the sidewalk, occasionally swerving to avoid tiny children and cute teenage couples. But, generally, the ride was urgent and almost calming.

That is, until she glanced over her shoulder and recognized the same beat up van trailing only slightly beside her. It was eerily slow, driving no more than ten miles an hour. The engine continuously sputtered. Y/n’s gaze was glued to the van in horror. What confirmed her suspicions even further was that, through the dark glass, she instantly recognize the messy trusses and gothic ornate fashion of Eddie Munson.

They made momentary eye contact and it sent chills down Y/n’s spine. The man looked equally as panicked as he did dead serious. His hands were gripping the steering wheel and his eyes bore into her. There was just as much of a mean, determined glare as there was a pleading expression. It frightened Y/n to her core.

When Y/n’s attention returned to the front of her, though, she let out a gasp of fright. She planted her feet on the ground desperately, trying to force the bike to stop. She’d come up to the end of the sidewalk and was about to crash right into a large tow truck that was racing down the street.

At the last second, she turned the bike a sharp left. A screech escaped her lips when the sudden turn brought the bike crashing into the ground. She skidded off and tumbled right into the street. She heard a small crack and pain shot through her ankle. There was also a searing sensation agains the cheek that lay flat against the dull pavement. Her head was pounding as she twitched, her legs completely tangled with the bike.

She pushed her hands into the asphalt, weakly pushing herself up. Some blood dripped onto the ground from her cheek and she knew she’d be riddled with bruises by tomorrow. She was only vaguely aware that the van had come to a screeching halt. Suddenly, she heard footsteps.

She peered up, rather disgruntled from the position she was in. Her entire body had scratches and skid marks. She peered up in horror, just in time to recognize Eddie Munson as he leaned over. His face was masked by his soft curls, and she couldn’t see his expression.

His hands looped under her armpits and he lifted, grunting slightly. A fearful, pained scream escaped her lips as she was lifted from the wreck. Her hair fell in her face, and she let out a grumble of agony when the bike was untangled from the wreckage.

At least one ankle was twisted. However, she wasn’t even given the chance to test it out, because Eddie wasn’t just helping her up. He was holding her limp form and making his way to the other side of the car. Even with how tattered and distressed she was, she connected the dots the moment he set he her against the car and went to open the passenger door.

Her eyes widened and she could barely move. But it didn’t matter so much as to what she couldn’t do. It was more so of what she had to do that impacted her. Both ankles tung from her weight and she almost crumbled right then and there. But when Eddie hummed, completely absorbed in opening the passenger side door and pushing some things off the seat, she attempted to limp away.

She let out a gasp of pain as she moved her feet, which drew Eddie’s attention back to her. He abandoned what he was doing, wide-eyed and worried. “Fuck! Y/n, doll, you’re hurt —!”

It didn’t take much effort to reach out and grasped at her. He grabbed her shoulder. A scream bubbled in Y/n’s throat, loud enough to be heard several blocks down. She continued to scream at the top of her lungs, even when it was muted by Eddie’s hand. His long, black nails dug into her injured cheek. Y/n pawed at him as he forcefully started pulling her back toward the van.

Tears sprung from her eyes again. Eddie kept mumbling nonsense that Y/n didn’t particularly want to hear.

“Just cooperate, dammit! I - I need to —“

“Hey, freak, the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Eddie seized up, but Y/n sure as hell didn’t. She tried to pull his hands away, and yet they only tightened. That was, until her vision cleared and she realized standing before her, was the chief of police, Sheriff Hopper. He had a gun pulled from his hip and had it trained on Eddie’s figure, even Y/n blocked most of it.

Eddie squealed girlishly. A small crowd from the nearby houses formed, and disturbed mothers gasped, holding their urbanized children to them. Y/n had never been happier to be in the richer side of town, because clearly, that was where to be when someone attempted to kidnap you.

“Let her go! Hands in the air and against the vehicle, now!” Hopper demanded, twisting the safety off.

Eddie could not have been more terrified. He exchanged wary glances between the officer and the love of his life. It was just a misunderstanding. He was helping her —!

Y/n bit down on his hand, and Eddie yelped. Immediately, the woman pushed herself free. She collapsed to her knees instantly, though, and despite the mark on his hand, Eddie’s brain blanked and he went to reach for her. That was, until he woke back up to the cocking of the gun.

“H - hey, man, it's not what you think!” Eddie pleaded, pale in the face. He raised his hands instantly, occasionally glancing at Y/n, who was desperately crawling to the officer’s side. His heart burned with regret. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. “I was just helping her —“

“I said, up against the vehicle! Now!”

With Hopper’s free hand, he reached onto his waist and pulled out a walkie-talkie. He pressed the button, eyes not abandoning Eddie’s trembling form as he did, in fact, press himself to the vehicle. Eddie’s mind blanked as he tried to think of an escape. A deep frown was etched into his frazzled features.

“Hey. We need an ambulance and another dispatch up here at Locust Street. Now.”

With that said, he reattached it. His glare bore into Eddie’s back. The man was desperately trying to think of anything that would convince him. “Y/n, please! Tell him it ain’t what he thinks it, uh, is?”

The officer grunted in disbelief. He lowered the gun when he took the final step and fished around for handcuffs. Eddie’s brain short-circuited in that moment and he brought his elbow into Hopper’s face. The man released a low yelp, caught off guard by Eddie’s sudden defiance. But Eddie didn’t just stop there. He swerved toward the officer and pushed his chest.

Hopper wasn’t letting himself get pushed around that easily, though. He let out another curse, not moving an inch when Eddie pushed him. Instead, he grabbed his frail wrists. One hand reached for the hilt of his gun and he removed it, about to shoot.

However, Eddie threw his entire weight toward the large man. Hopper lost his footing. He shot, but the bullet ricocheted off the large van. Eddie let out another yelp as both of them tumbled to the ground. Y/n screamed again, but by then, a concern mother appeared beside her and helped her up and away to safety.

Eddie let out a growl and punched the cop. Hopper, though, forced them to roll until Eddie was the one pushed to the ground. Hopper punched the man in the face, blood spewing from his nose. Eddie’s arms flailed until his hand located the gun.

He always said he’d never end up like his father, but he’d do anything for love’s namesake. He knew how to use the gun. And, as Hopper’s fist continued to punch the lying hell out of Eddie’s face, he realized if he didn’t shoot, he’d end up in prison. And as romantic as the idea was, with how resistant and misunderstand Y/n was to his affection, he doubted they’d have some jail-themed wedding.

He dug the gun into Hopper’s waist, and realization dawned on the man’s expression. He swiped at it, but Eddie shot. And instead of being deadly, the bullet lodged into his leg. Hopper let out a groan and Eddie was able to push him off with ease.

As Eddie stood, he still had the gun in his grip. He wanted to shoot the cop again, but Hopper was writhing in pain. He turned the gun to the fearful, ushering mother and Y/n. They watched, and Y/n tried her best to push her body in front of the mother, but she insisted.

However, Eddie never shot. Instead, his ears peaked when, in the distance, he heard the squeals of police sirens. He grit his teeth and backed up as far as he could until he arrived at the driver’s seat. From then on, he stepped inside and slammed both doors.

The adrenaline hadn’t worn off yet, but the fear still sank back in. There was a change in plans. He started the ignition, and as a scream bubbled from the love of his life’s throat, he sped off to god knows where.

Y/n thought that there was no way in hell Eddie would get away. But the officers were far more concerned with saving their fallen comrade and getting Y/n to a hospital for her wounds, so that left Eddie to his lonesome.

A few days later, Y/n knew Eddie escaped as she watched the hospital television. She could tell because the cops had located his van in the middle of the woods, with no Eddie, no gun, nothing. He was on the run. But, at least with his name on the news, Y/n could only hope that meant he couldn’t get to her.

Weeks passed. Y/n felt safer. People had given her condolences and she felt like she stood out. But nobody had ever treated her cruelly. Even when Patrick took a few days off school, she hardly suspected anything had happened except the common flu.

No more letters, no more gifts, no more stalker watching her every move.

It was like a weight had been taken off her shoulders.

There was a pep in her step on the bright, sunny morning. Her friends greeted her as she made her way to her locker. She would’ve felt worse, but Hopper had recovered seemingly faster than she had. She was freed.

At least, that was until she swung open her locker and from inside, a very ornate letter fell out.

Fear struck through her heart all of her sudden. She watched as it fluttered to the ground. However, she’d never received an actual envelope. It was always a single sheet of paper. And, through the envelope, she could see brilliant pinks and reds. It was an actual card.

It had to be from her friends.

She shakily shoved her backpack into her locker and leaned down, picking it off the ground. She just had to know. She peeled open the letter, slowly, dread consuming her.

It was from a friend.

It was from…

She pulled it out, allowing the envelope to fall to the ground. Nobody else was paying her any heed. Nobody would suspect anything, even if it was from Eddie Munson.

She examined the front and back. The front had several hearts with expressions, the largest one with a wounded leg. In cartoonish letters, it spelled,’ Get better soon!’. On the back was nothing but a Hallmark copyright, a solid red color. She felt relieved. It seemed not as suspicious.

Maybe it was delivered for Patrick. They’d been growing closer lately.

And then, she opened it.

All of her hopes were dashed because she didn’t need to even read the letter to know it was Eddie. It was his familiar chicken scratch handwriting, although it was shakier than usual. There were other ornate details in the card, but her focus primarily set on the words he’d written.

‘Y/n, doll, love of my life. I’m sorry things turned south like this. I’m just happy your injuries have healed. I can’t express in words how sorry I am. I just didn’t explain as well as I should’ve. I’m not dangerous. I love you truly. I’d never hurt you! I know what they say around town and on the news, but I only ever wanted to be loved. Especially by someone as perfect as you.

‘This whole damned town has forced my hand. None of this was supposed to happen. You were supposed to listen to what I said, not just hear. You interpreted everything wrong!!! I don’t blame you, though. You didn’t do anything wrong. I get how you misunderstood everything.

‘On that note, though, I’ve had to resort to more drastic measures. I’m supposed to be by your side, kissing you and holding you by your locker before our shared class in pre-calc - yes, we shared that class -, but instead, I have a ransom that only you can fulfill.

‘See, with me as we speak, I’m holding Patrick - I truly hate his guts, you know - hostage. I assume you’ve heard, although I haven’t been able to keep up with the news when I’m more focused on keeping an eye on you. And you can always try to call the cops, but there wouldn’t be enough time.

‘In exchange for Patrick’s life, you have to meet up so we can disappear from this wretched place. I have a gun ready to shoot him as we speak. And I know you always walk into school at the same time now since you aren’t trying to catch me placing the letters inside your locker — Oh, sorry, I was supposed to keep this short, you know?’

By then, there was barely any space left of the card, despite how tiny he’d tried to make his handwriting.

‘Well, be here by eight-thirty sharp or there’ll be a bullet through this asshole’s head, okay? Meet me beyond the football field in the woods. Keep walking until you find a picnic table and wait. I’ll know if you bring anyone with you.

‘I’ll see you soon. I miss you so so much.

‘With love, your Eddie.’

Y/n should’ve been screaming and crying. But, instead, she knew she’d cave. She was paralyzed none the less, but she’d cave. As her mouth went dry, she peered over her shoulder at one of the school clocks.

It was eight-fifteen. Classes started at eight-thirty. Eddie was smart. Smarter than the erratic, delusional man was taken for, especially considering how sloppy his violence was and how shitty his grades were rumored to be. Her heart sank in realization. Cops could never reach in time, and Eddie would hear the said cops in the distance. She was left with no choice.

She pushed the envelope into her locker, stone-faced and defeated. Her shoulder drooped and her eyes became glossy. She would honestly prefer death to being kidnapped for the sake of her pride. Pain was worse and Eddie surely had a sadistic side if he was willing to kill.

As she slammed the locker and turned, she jumped. Max was there, concern etched in her features. She tilted her head, noticing her friend’s jumpiness. “Hey. Is everything okay?”

Y/n eagerly nodded her head. “Um, yes. It’s just… cramps. I’m going off to the bathroom. Actually, is Patrick okay? I haven’t seen him around school for days.”

Max quirked a brow. “You mean that basketball player you’re friends with?”

“Yeah.”

Her face fell and she strained a smile. The woman couldn’t meet her eyes, and Y/n realized. Somehow amidst her obsessed news-watching addiction, she’d missed it. Patrick was missing and Eddie Munson had taken him.

“I’m surprised you didn’t know… I’m sorry. I’m sure they’ll find him.”

Y/n’s eyes couldn’t help but flicker to the ticking clock. The high school was large, but not too large. But, as the clock ticked to eight-twenty, she knew once she made it through the front entrance, she’d have to run. She couldn’t risk being even a few seconds late. In her head, she could already imagine poor Patrick’s body bleeding out in the middle of the woods.

Max nodded her off, saying some good-bye word. But Y/n could barely hear from how fast the blood was rushing through her body. She sent one last tight smile the woman’s way before dashing down the hallway. People dodged and made way not asking questions. They were too tired to give a shit about some random student that had an urgent pace.

She burst through the front doors. The cool summer breeze hit her and shivers rolled down her spine. Some people called to her, but their voices went through one ear and out the other. She followed the outer walls. As she continued, less and less people were around. And by the time she arrived at the football field it was completely deserted.

She paused as she passed through the large gate. She saw what Eddie meant. Across the field it opened up to the wilderness. There was but a meek wooden fence with one entrance into the wilderness. She’d heard of Eddie’s notorious drug deals, and this was probably where it happened.

Yes. Eddie Munson was a drug dealer. And that meant he could get any drug he needed for… kidnapping.

She almost felt embarrassed by the prospect. It was like she had a big head for thinking that anyone would ever want to kidnap her. Hell, it was an amazing occurrence as it was when she got her first love letter in her locker. Her life had been mostly void of romance. Well, if ‘romance’ was even the right word.

She started crossing the football field. She wanted to preserve her stamina since she was sure it couldn’t be any later than eight-twenty-five. To her, it was like she was walking down the prison hallways to death row. Her inevitable doom. And as she spaced out, feet doing their own thing, she couldn’t help but reflect on her life.

Nobody ever thinks they’re going to be the one on the news. The victim of a crime. People live their day-to-day lives thinking that it would never be them. They weren’t the ones that would be robbed or attacked or murdered or kidnapped. And yet, somehow, Y/n had been the one to attract Eddie Munson’s attention. Not one of the popular cheerleaders, not the pretty gossip girls, not the talented artists, not the musicians or scientists or anything that Eddie would’ve been attracted to.

Instead, it was her.

She crossed into the wilderness. It was even more silent even with the occasional scuttling of squirrels and chirps of birds. Her footsteps seemingly echoed as she mushed onto the slightly damp grass and small twigs. She kept walking, only vaguely aware of the obvious trail that led over a short hill.

She kept walking. After she passed over the hill, she saw it. The dreaded picnic table. Her heart stopped and she was quick to survey the area. She paused, listening. She heard nothing. She wondered if she was alone, or if Eddie had been lying and didn’t even have Patrick with him.

However, Patrick was missing. And that was his handwriting.

As she went over to the picnic table and slowly sat, eyes glancing around wildly, her mind churned with an explanation. Was there another picnic table deeper in? Was Eddie waiting for the direct chimed of the bell or his watch? Was he waiting for others to show up, or for sirens to call?

She gulped. Her hands enveloped her upper body in a hug that should’ve given her an ounce of comfort. But, instead, she sat there, trembling. It was supposed to be good. Eddie Munson was supposed to have given up because she was too much trouble to pursue.

But perhaps her hopefulness had been naive from the start.

Snap.

She swiftly turned, eyes wide. Standing there, body barely peeking out from a large tree, was Eddie Munson. He had that same damned expression from when he confessed. Slightly flushed cheeks, a small shy grin, and hands that were fiddling with his coat.

The only difference was everything else. His hair was wilder than usual. He had a certain odor to him and some of his clothes were torn. He clearly hadn’t washed an ounce of his boy in a long time, clothes included. Even his glinting silver rings had dirt smudged on them. In one hand, he held the same pistol he stole from Sheriff Hopper weeks, hell, maybe even months ago. And, slightly peeking out of his jean pocket, Y/n noticed a knife.

Y/n seized up. Maybe that was her chance to scream and run for help, but Patrick couldn’t die for her sake. And Eddie knew that. There was more confidence in his walk as he approached the picnic table, and his eyes flitted hungrily over her entire form.

Y/n felt so violated.

Eddie stopped at the opposite side. He slid into the seat although he still had his arms withdrawn and the gun pulled back, a lingering threat that she wasn’t going to get away with any attempted attacks. Eddie tilted his head, a dreamy, lovesick haze coating his dark eyes.

“I just knew you’d show. You’re too much of an angel to let poor ol’ Patrick die. I’ve missed you, doll.”

His words slurred, and he took his time. He didn’t stutter was much. And he hoed with confidence and joy. He was anxious, but it was the residual effect from being in the presence of his ‘crush.’ Y/n’s skin crawled, and as a few tears spilled from her eyes, a frown tugged at her lips.

This time, she could actually meet Eddie’s intense stare. There wasn’t any getting out of the situation. And there was no reason to be shy around a man she’d come to loathe and fear so very deeply. She fiddled with the hem of her shirt in anticipation.

“Where’s Patrick? Let him go.”

Eddie’s face fell ever so slightly as he glanced her up and down. “We reunite after all this time, and you’re only here for Patrick. I get it, doll. You’re scared. Maybe you hate me. But you shouldn’t!” He waved his arms wildly above his head and Y/n flinched. Eddie noticed though, trying to regain his composure. He cleared his throat. “Um, well, listen. We can clear the air later, doll, but we don’t have much time to waste. Uh, I gotta admit something, though.”

Y/n’s face fell even further and she gulped. She wiped away her hot tears, not having the voice to say anything.

“I was kinda worried you wouldn’t show at all. And, like, I had all these drugs that I was pretty much put out of business for since, uh, I’m kinda a criminal now… Well, anyways, I was a little anxious and angry and I took it out on Patrick just a little. Just yesterday, actually, since I was having a hard time sleeping and all that. And, like, he was scared and I was angry and… I took out a sort of insurance policy on the guy. To make sure, no matter what, even if I got caught, I’d take him down with me.”

Y/n’s heart stopped and she gripped at her mouth. A sob broke through and she wasn’t sure what to do. She was scared shitless. Was Patrick already dead?

“Now, before you get on my case about all this, he isn’t actually dead. He just… will be in about a, uh, few hours. Maybe if you cooperate the police can swoop him up and attempt to save him. I don’t really know. I actually, uh doped him up with some Batrachotoxin. That shit’s what the Indians used in poison darts. It was only a little, though, I swear, doll! It’s slow acting since I only doped him up with some. Makes it easier to transport him with him not struggling, actually.”

Y/n felt like she was going to faint. She wanted to scream. But,, this deep in the woods, away from where the classes were being held, would anyone even hear? Or was her fate decided the moment she agreed to show?

But, if there was even a chance of Patrick’s survival, she’d take it.

“Oh, come on,” Eddie tittered, waving his hand dismissively. “We should probably get going now, huh? You aren’t looking too good. Believe it or not, chloroform smells pretty sweet and taste even sweeter. So, uh, it’ll be a pleasant experience, ‘kay?”

“Please…”

Eddie’s eyes widened as Y/n finally opened her mouth. She couldn’t help but rise to her feet. She stumbled out of the picnic table, but Eddie didn’t make a single move. He knew that she knew that if she ran off, he’d just go over to the guy and finish him off, and he’d make his grand escape. He was offended none the less that she wanted distance, though.

Eddie stood up, almost seeming terrified. Regretful. Y/n noticed this, and as Eddie pocketed the gun and instead pulled out a bottle and cloth, she couldn’t help but beg further.

“Eddie, please! Patrick doesn’t deserve this. I - I don’t deserve this! A - and if you don’t do this, I promise I won’t tell. You can live your merry life on the run, figure something out, a - and —“

Eddie sent her a glare and she clammed up. All anxiety and playfulness dissipated into pure irritation. He sighed, and as he soaked the cloth with chloroform casually, he shrugged. His age was glued to her frozen, trembling figure. “Doll, I’d rather die than leave you. Don’t you get that? I can’t live without you. I love you. You think I want to do this? No. It’s just ended up this way, uh, ‘cause you didn’t accept my feelings. And that’s fine, so don’t feel bad! But, uh, I ain’t giving up on you that easily.”

Y/n wished so badly to run. Patrick was fucked anyway, right? He’d die in a few hours. She doubted any surgery could prevent his demise. And yet, as Eddie stalked toward her, all anger morphing into joy just from being within her presence, she waited.

But then, when he was but a few feet away, it was like fear took control and she turned. A scream tore at her lungs. Her legs burned almost instantly. However, as she attempted to make her escape, an arm looped around her waist and another flew to her mouth.

Except, instead of a hand, it was a damp cloth. And it did smell sweet.

She struggled, but Eddie was stronger than before. He was roughed up for sure but he must’ve been working out for this. It terrified her. As she twisted and turned in his hold, it was like her energy was fading. Not as fast as Eddie would’ve hoped, but also not as slow as Y/n wanted. She pawed at his leather coat.

Her head was pressed next to Eddie’s, and his hushes echoed in her ear. “Just calm down, doll. Everything’ll be okay. I promise. W - we can escape to fuckin’ Canada or something, get a job, get a house, get married, have a few kids maybe… O - or not! It’s totally cool if kids aren’t your thing. I - I just wanna make you happy, doll. I swear.”

As Eddie continued to rant, seemingly not having an off button, it hit her. A bout of drowsiness had snuck up on her and she could barely keep her eyes open. Her struggling ceased since she needed what strength she had solely for keeping herself standing and leaning against Eddie’s body. He was warm. The chloroform smelled nice.

Her thoughts even slowed and her mind blanked. She kept breathing in the scent, and her eyes slowly shut. Even so, though, Eddie’s hold didn’t falter. Before she lost conscious, though, she attempted to reach for the gun at his hip. And yet her fingers did nothing but twitch in dismay.

Eddie chuckled his arm around her waist loosening. Instead, he reached up, running his fingers through her hair briefly.

“Aw would you look at that, doll,” he cooed.

He yielded no response and Y/n’s head slumped into he crook of his neck. Eddie’s heartbeat erratically, and he couldn’t help but take in a large sniff of her hair. It smelled so good. He’d only ever been able to do that when she was asleep. And yet, having her in his arms, so very close to him, was like heaven.

“God, Y/n. I love you. I’m so lucky.”