The Irony Of Tears for Fears and Eddie Munson
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He had woken up from a nightmare, one of the many few that plagued him throughout the night. It was hard to find peace in Hawkins. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary this time, just the feeling of a demo dog's teeth puncturing his leg, fading into demo bats eating him alive, and Max floating in the air, then everyone around him following closely after.
And then when it was finally his turn to rise, the hand of Vecna around his throat, waiting to break every bone in his body, he would wake up. Sometimes with a scream, sometimes just with silence and labored breathing.
It wasn't an ideal way of spending the late nights of his youth, constantly paranoid and sleep deprived. He should be laughing and annoyed at the power company when his lights flickered, not reaching for his bat out of fear of something turning his corner ready to eat him.
The kitchen phone rang through the house, causing him to flinch.
He also probably shouldn't be scared of the phone.
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