Chapter Text
Sorcerers are hard to spot most of the time.
In 1980s Hawkins, Indiana, most fall into one of two categories:
They were taught their inherent techniques and how to wield cursed energy by their families,
or
they figured it out on their own, usually through an unfortunate experience.
Both groups tend to keep to themselves and avoid any association with sorcerers or curses. The Satanic Panic infecting the nation nearly ensured that any and everybody possibly linked to ‘The Devil’ would be ostracized and persecuted.
Some sorcerers, however, couldn’t hide if they tried. Like Eddie Munson.
The boy grew up followed by sneers and snide remarks. The town had coined him a freak since the beginning. Their assumptions allowed him certain freedoms with the distance they insisted upon.
He never had to hide his personality, his bold, unconventional way of speaking, or his unapologetic presence, changing the glares he received into his audience. Everywhere he went, people looked. So he drew them in, made them look harder.
This way, daily dealings with curses since he was old enough to hold his mom’s rusty pocket knife and for his dad to send him out to buy more beer wasn’t any odder than the townspeople expected from him.
When his dad kicked the bucket from liver failure and his mom could no longer take care of him, his mom’s brother took him in. Moving to the trailer park did nothing to change his status in the town’s eyes, still the dirt beneath their shoes.
Living with Uncle Wayne wasn’t all that bad because Wayne had something to teach him that wasn’t hotwiring cars.
The world of curses and jujutsu sorcery. And the family curse technique — Amplification.
Already an aspiring musician, Eddie nearly burst with excitement when Wayne helped him save up for his first guitar and taught him the chords that would kill curses.
He finally had a taste of power after growing up powerless. He could kill the monsters that followed him that no one else seemed to see.
He was never under the illusion that he was a hero, however. It was still him against the world, but at least he had a weapon.
Wayne warned him to keep it a secret, though, which he could figure out why. The Patriotic Anti-Commie Anti-Satan Nuclear Families would not take well to the local Freak “exorcizing curses” with a guitar or other cursed object.
Like with the rest of him, he tucked this part away from their scrutiny, to be kept close to his heart forever.
Or so he thought.
~~~~~
All Nancy could do was scream. The floating mass with too many eyes squealed back at her and spun like a spinning top on her bedroom floor.
Her mother burst through the door, assessed the situation, and the creature ceased to squeal, its gaping hole of a mouth gurgled as its life fluid flooded its senses and suffocated it to death.
Karen pulled out the senbon she had pierced the curse with and stowed it in a secret compartment in her belt. Then she pulled 12-year-old Nancy aside, and on her childhood bed, Nancy learned about the world of jujutsu sorcerers, curses, and the family technique:
Target.
With tears still drying from her earlier scare, Nancy’s world changed forever.
Her mom explained how she married a non-sorcerer to avoid the persecution she saw other sorcerers experience growing up, especially women, and wanted to protect herself and her children from the same fate. She had hoped that her kids could live life ignorant of the terrors she saw, cursed with a sorcerer’s sight.
She had hoped they wouldn’t inherit her technique, would never gain the sight, and would live happy, normal lives.
All that wishing turned her hopes on their heads, it seemed.
Nancy and Mike could both see curses. Both of them had shown the beginnings of talent with the family technique, too. Only time would tell if Holly would be as unlucky.
Karen figured that the best way she could be of help to her children was to teach them. That way, they could discreetly handle pesky, everyday curses, and improve their quality of life.
She hoped with all hope that they wouldn’t have to deal with anything worse.
\\
Target manifested differently in Nancy and Mike.
Karen took them both to the shooting range as often as possible without raising suspicion from Ted or the neighbors.
Nancy had deadly accuracy and described the appearance of a scope-like enhancement on her target when she shot or threw a weapon. She and her mother decided to call her version of the technique Bullseye.
Mike also had good aim. However, it came at the price of losing his peripheral vision whenever he aimed. His field of vision would narrow to his target, but anything outside of his target would be temporarily blurry. His technique was, therefore, named Focus.
Whenever he overworked his technique, his whole field of vision blurred as well. Nancy knew her limits, but she would get a striking headache that hurt her focus when she overworked her technique.
Karen didn’t worry about the Grade level of her children’s abilities so much as how well they could defend themselves and live well. Mike, however, begged her for more lessons after constant self-comparison to his prodigy sister.
She figured it didn’t hurt to teach him simple barriers.
Eventually he became adept at forming kinds of bubble-like protections around himself and others.
Sigh. Her kids were growing too fast for their mom.
Ted started asking why she would take them out and leave him to take care of Holly. That was her job, after all.
She had to stop taking them to the range so often. Nancy was old enough to drive at least.
But puberty and struggles shifting from curses to maintaining friendships and grades caused a rift in the siblings’ relationship. They almost never went to the shooting range anymore.
~~~~~
Sue and Charles Sinclair settled in Hawkins, Indiana, to mark the end of the fighting. They had enough and wanted to put sorcery behind them.
The war had not been kind to Charles Sinclair. Each promotion meant more scrutiny, more surveillance, and more chances to slip up.
The battlefield filled with more curses than bodies. Born from despair, desperation, and death as the shells rained and shots fired day in and day out.
He could only exorcise so many of them and blame it on swatting mosquitoes before his captain suspected something was wrong with him. And that declaration would be worse than the occasional curse wound.
He had to prove himself to be respected in the barracks, and a trip to the psych ward would be like a death sentence. It would remain on his record, follow him to every job interview, and keep him trapped.
He made it through, though. Sue stayed with him through the war, too.
Her letters, filled with code expressing her true sentiments and discussing sorcery-related matters, kept him from losing hope entirely. He fought to make it back to her.
Once the war ended and he was allowed to leave for a civilian job, Sue and Charles decided on Hawkins with the advertised promise of a charming suburban town looking to the future. A nice place to settle down and raise children, hopefully without the curse problem that follows large populations.
They agreed to quietly teach their children jujutsu, especially if they manifested Sue’s inherent technique Cursed Flames. Didn’t want that to get out of hand! Accusations of arson did not make good neighbors.
They would not, however, teach their children anything more advanced. Dealing with a little Grade 4 once in a while helped build character and made life easier, but they drew the line at anything ranked higher.
Lucas and Erica, thankfully, could be trusted to tell their parents when a bigger curse appeared in their vicinity so they could take care of it.
At least, they told their parents before everything happened.
\\
Charles was an adept fighter and user of cursed objects, favoring a large cursed knife from his time during the war his late friend gave him after he sensed he was a sorcerer like himself. He had to learn jujutsu on his own since only some of his family had the sight and refused to use it to avoid suspicion. He gave Lucas a smaller version of his knife.
Sue Sinclair learned her family’s technique after seeing her grandma light a candle with only the tip of her finger. Careful hiding of the technique was pushed to the point of rebellion when she entered high school.
She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, and her justified anger occasionally singed whatever objects she held. One too many close calls made her rein in her emotions in public.
A charred handprint would still appear on the morning paper whenever her nosy neighbor Sandra chirped about the weather or the latest gossip to her and she had just wanted to grab the paper and return inside. She considered it a healthy compromise. It is important to feel your emotions.
She taught this to her two kids as well. It was just a bit more dangerous when an outlet for emotions could burn the house down.
\\
Lucas was proving to be as flexible as Charles in his fighting. His flames came in the form of balls of flame that he could manipulate and fire like rockets. As he trained, they discovered his stronger rockets would also spark upon impact, creating a colorful effect. He was torn over how to name his power besides the fact that he wanted to reference his family’s technique Cursed Flames. Finally he decided it would depend on his goal.
For a focus on quick firing but smaller impact, Cursed Flames: Wrist Rocket. This would also utilize his favorite cursed object, the slingshot.
For a focus on power and range, Cursed Flames: Pyrotechnics.
\\
What Lucas had in flexibility and stamina, Erica had in power. She had to be the most careful out of the two of them because of her strength.
While Lucas could put out a growing flame in his palm as if he were dusting himself off, Erica had to choose her words carefully and refrain from shouting.
Her Flames came from her speech.
Cursed Flames: Roast could cut an opponent down a size with a few words, depending on her tone, volume, and intent.
She practiced on straw dolls in the backyard when Sue gave the all-clear. Experimentation and practice allowed her to use her quick and cutting wit at school without incident. Besides that one time in first grade when a kid broke her favorite colored pencil and she set off the fire alarm. She was quick to learn from that example.
Sue was proud of her children for their growing mastery of their techniques but worried their power would lead to trouble. She insisted that she taught them everything she knew and stopped their lessons once she was assured they could defend themselves if necessary.
Going after larger threats only brought more negative attention, especially from government eyes. She kept her secret techniques hidden from them for this reason.
Knowledge was power, but it was also a curse.
~~~~~
Dustin Henderson was never afraid to ask questions. So much so that he stumbled upon the world of jujutsu sorcery without meaning to.
He saw the floating blobs that screamed or cried or tripped people or weighed down their shoulders. Asking about them never garnered results but confused stares, instead.
Thankfully his preschool teacher chalked it up to his ‘creative mind’ and ‘developing imagination.’ He figured a different research method was required.
Whenever he could convince his mom, which was easy because he was her ‘cute little genius,’ he would go to the library and try his hand at the books they had there, even if the texts sometimes surpassed his comprehension level.
By the time he started middle school, he had several working hypotheses.
#1 They were aliens like E.T. and people had accepted them to the point they stopped wondering about them. (This was unlikely because there would always be curious people and maybe even evil scientists who would want to run experiments on them. Also, his preschool teacher would have acknowledged them, and there would be at least a few books written about them and their nature.)
#2 They were ghosts that only he could see. (This could work? They did seem to affect people and the environment instead of just floating through walls. Plus he didn’t figure only he would have the ability to see these things. That would be a different problem.)
#3 They were figments of his imagination. (This one was more troubling than the other two but probable. His main argument against this one was that figments of his imagination could not actually move objects or change people’s moods, but he kept the hypothesis on the drawing board for the sake of science).
He discovered they could be something else entirely different when he was biking to school one day with his friends, Lucas, Will, and Mike.
He had always been tempted to ask if they could see them too. The history of weird stares surrounding the question hadn’t fazed him, but this question had turned into a personal quest for knowledge more than anything.
Dustin gave that up at the sight of a big flat one spanning the width of the road lumbered in their direction.
“Hey, guys? You’re seeing this, too, right?” His voice only sort of shook as his and his friends’ pedaling slowed to a stop.
Taking a deep breath and hardening their stares, seemingly in unison they answered, “Yeah.” Each was shocked out of their focus, glancing between the others’ confused faces.
“And you didn’t tell me! Damn it, this whole time…I’ve had so many questions, and you guys just know?”
Still glancing at each other with wide eyes and open mouths, Mike finally answers, “Yeah, sorry, but now’s not the time! This curse is bigger than any I’ve ever seen!”
“Me too!”
“Me three,” Will whimpered pathetically, standing on shaky legs and gripping his bike handles so hard his knuckles turned white.
“Well what do we do?! I’ve never actually had to deal with one of these! I can usually just avoid them.”
“I got this,” Mike and Lucas said together. After sending a silent message to each other with a look, they both nodded and faced the beast.
“What did he say? That it’s a curse? What does that mean? It’s not aliens? Or ghosts? I was leaning more towards a kind of weird ghost. Like a poltergeist!” Dustin exclaimed, gesturing quickly and huffing with excitement and nervousness.
“At least it’s not all in my head!”
“I wish it was just in my head”
Dustin looked at Will’s haunted eyes staring forward as the ‘curse’ continued to tumble past a pothole and closer to them.
“Well, uh, Mike and Lucas seem sure of themselves, at least.”
\\
Mike was not sure of himself. He couldn’t exactly carry weapons to school besides a few stealthy senbon he begged his mother for. His Focus could only help so much with such a wide, moving target as well. This was out of his league. He hoped Lucas knew what he was doing.
\\
Lucas, thankfully, knew what he was doing.
The school didn’t see his slingshot as a threat to security, so he had it on him at all times. This would be the first time using it for its true purpose, however, and in public. Luckily most people were already off to work or school or busy with something else. His parents would not be happy to hear about him exposing his sorcery.
He would have to cross that bridge when he got to it. This curse would prevent them from passing and likely cause a car accident. He was surprised it hadn’t already.
Pulling out his slingshot, his beloved Wrist Rocket, he stretched it into position.
“You’re just gonna sling rocks at this thing! Lucas, c’mon!”
“C’mon yourself! I don’t see you armed with anything.” Snarking back made him lose his focus and the curse had gotten closer than was comfortable.
He had to fire something, anything. So he did.
The fireball had the impact of a pebble but it confused the curse enough to stop. Lucas built up more pressure, more heat and fired.
The curse screamed and writhed in pain as it slipped and slid over the pavement. Dustin, Will, and Mike all covered their ears against the whistling pitch. Lucas was used to Erica’s screaming practice sessions in their basement.
Mike activated Focus and threw a senbon into the curse’s singular pulsing eye and another down its gullet as it screamed again, piercing its throat.
The attack gave Lucas enough time to gather the power to deliver a small version of Cursed Flames: Pyrotechnics. The dancing sparks covered every inch of the beast while the main rocket ruptured its belly.
\\
The remains splat onto the nearby lawns, all over their clothes and hair, and a big glob of sludge covered the stop sign they had barely passed when they saw the curse. Some had even got on Dustin’s nose as he ignored Will’s warning to duck when Lucas sounded off the final explosion, too caught in the daze of scientific discovery.
His friends could do all that? They could make fire in their hands and throw tiny weapons at moving targets?
And most of all, what the hell were curses?????? How were curses??? And why????
So many questions and so little time! They were going to be late for school!
Shucking off the worst of the sludge, which was invisible to people that couldn’t see curses, Dustin learned, they all hopped on their bikes and raced to school, promising Dustin an explanation for all that he saw. Mike, Lucas, and Will all had questions for each other, as well.
To think they were all hiding all this time and worried they were the only ones like that when their friends had similar experiences was a little frustrating but mostly relieving. D&D would just have to wait tonight. It would be a good cover story for their families, though. They had a lot to discuss.
Until then, Dustin thought, it was going to be a long day.
~~~~~
After weeks of Q&A about curses and jujutsu sorcery mixed in with their usual D&D nights, Dustin finally got around to asking about what he could do.
Will, who had always worried his technique wouldn’t be much use if fighting broke out and had researched some common alternative techniques, said, “Well, if you have cursed energy, and you do—I just thought I was reading it wrong—but no technique, you can try to learn something more universal, like calling for shikigami to help.”
“Or summoning barriers.” Mike added, his arms folded across his chest to discourage questions since he had a technique he inherited and ‘why would you need to know anything else?’ His friends thought he was just a well-rounded sorcerer, though.
Dustin sat forward in his folding chair with his elbows on his knees. “What are shikigami?”
Lucas pulled the dog and cat pieces from the Monopoly board they told Mike’s parents they would play and placed them in front of Dustin. “It’s like you summon animals to fight for you. They can be any animal and could come from, I don’t know, shadow or something. Then, they go away when you tell them to or they die while fighting.”
“Hmm,” holding his chin in his hand, Dustin pondered, “Could they come from anywhere?”
“I guess? I don’t know, my mom didn’t really say. None of my family uses them.”
Mike had relaxed a bit, “Yeah, same with my family.”
Will thought before piping up, “We don’t use them but my mom’s sister used them and hers came from water.” He sat up taller and smiled at Dustin, “Maybe they come from elements?”
“Like the periodic table?”
“That wouldn’t explain the shadow, Dustin. And shadows aren’t elements like that, Will.”
Slumped in their chairs, the boys racked their brains.
“I guess I’ll just have to run some tests.”
~~~~~
Will was relieved to learn that his friends were like him, jujutsu sorcerers. He felt seen in a way that he had thought was impossible.
Will had not only inherited his mother’s ability to see curses but also her Eyes, meaning he saw nearly everything.
He saw curses from the moment he first opened his eyes. He could see the little ones disturb and disrupt and the big ones decimate and destroy.
It was like he could see all of Hawkins and all its people if he concentrated.
Without concentrating, the flood of sensations would overwhelm him and migraines would make it feel like his brain was splitting in two. Like a cleaver sliced between the hemispheres.
He always had to pay attention to what was in front of him or else the world would swallow him whole. Which wasn’t easy when sleep evaded him, as it often did.
But his mom told him from an early age to hide his ability, especially from his father, so he never complained. He didn’t need much incentive to do that, what with Lonnie being Lonnie.
The man who called himself his father when he wanted something done but was also disgusted to call him his son was worse than any curse he’d met so far.
\\
Joyce knew of Will’s enhanced sight and taught him how to hone his perception with it, hidden in the words of bedtime stories Lonnie insisted he was too old for. She couldn’t teach him much else until their divorce was finalized.
When Lonnie asked why Joyce ‘coddled’ Will, she would blame his ‘sensitive nature’ and his age. Lonnie interpreted this as confirmation for what he had feared, his son was a queer.
\\
From then on, Will had to deal with bullying at home as well as at school.
At school, Troy and his posse would hit him and call him names, but his dad was worse. He wouldn’t hit him. He wouldn’t even call him those bad names for gay people. But he would give him these looks. And sneer. And mention every day how much of a disappointment he was.
His traitorous Eyes remembered these looks with utmost clarity, and they reminded him at every opportunity.
Even after his dad left and his family was finally free of him, the glare returned in every monster he faced.
\\
Joyce Byers had always been able to see curses and cursed energy but hadn’t been able to foresee the dick that Lonnie would become and how he would mess up her life.
Her Eyes didn’t help her with fighting or anything and they just gave her a headache. All she had was 20/20 vision to show for it. She figured if her brother had lived past childhood, he might have manifested the family technique in its original form.
The highest form of manifestation of the Eyes she had seen in her family was in Will. Jonathan had the Eyes to a lesser extent, but they were sharper than hers, especially with the aid of his cursed camera.
But Will had the All Knowing Eyes, like her grandma had. He couldn’t handle it yet, though, and without proper training, it would be incredibly difficult for him to do so.
She constantly worried after her boy. Worried about his relationship with the technique, worried about if he would make friends, and worried about how the world would treat him.
She didn’t need to be worried about him making friends anymore at least.
After Will became friends with Dustin, Lucas, and Mike, he started to remind her of the creative, happy child he had been before Lonnie tried to change him. Not only that, she could see tracings of cursed energy surrounding each of them. Someday, they’d all realize they were more alike than they thought. And for that she couldn’t be more grateful to them.
~~~~~
The Party had just settled into their routine of sharing the other half of their lives with each other and returning to their campaigns and science projects when shit hit the fan.
Will could sense something around him, but it was dark and confusing. The images were hitting him in such quick succession that he couldn’t discern their meaning.
All he knew was it had strong malicious intent.
It also didn’t seem human, but when dealing with curses, that wasn’t too much of a surprise.
It was big, and it was coming for him. Prey, it echoed in his mind, slamming against the walls of his brain. He pedaled faster.
The wind whipped at his face and his bike squeaked against the added pressure. His mouth dry from the rapid panting, trying to come up with something, anything to get away from this thing.
He had made it to his house, Jonathan and Mom gone, of course. Throwing open the shed he loaded the rifle his dad had left from back when he had a hope his sons would turn out more ‘manly.’
Will spilled the box of bullets as he tore it open, somehow sliding a few home in the gun as his hands trembled and palms sweat. He was stuck now, so all he could do was wait with bated breath for the beast to approach.
The flash of images appeared again since he no longer focused on the gun.
All-Knowing Eyes. He didn’t think the technique lived up to its name. He didn’t know anything, and he was going to die here in this dusty old shed with the crooked shelving that threatened to fall and the memories of his dad.
He tried anyway. If he was going to die, he might as well die fighting, like his friends would.
Lucas with his fireworks, easy confidence, and careful skepticism.
Dustin with his wits, loyalty, and charisma.
And Mike. Mike, who had started to become a centerpiece in his daydreams about a better world, and Mike with his bravery and his sure aim and his soft hair and his…
The air was stifling with cursed energy and malicious intent. Will could choke on it if it had manifested as the toxic fumes it felt like, seeping into his clothes, his skin.
He closed his eyes, focusing his sight. The Eyes let him see what he could not.
The monster, a curse with a mouth that opened like a flower. A flower with rows upon rows of razor-sharp canines and a gaping abyss of a mouth. A promise of laceration and an unrecognizable corpse.
His friends at home with their families. Lucas yelling for his sister to leave his stuff alone. Dustin helping his mom put away dinner to have as leftovers the next day. And Mike packing away his Dungeon Master notes from the campaign they just paused in the drawers of his desk.
His mom working a late shift at the store. His brother driving home but so far away.
He could see them, but no one could see him.
Except It.
The flower beast tore through the shed and his sight could not save him from what came next. Shots rang out, but his aim wasn’t like Mike’s. It wouldn’t have stopped the curse either.
It brought him to a world that he had assumed was from his nightmares. A darker version of Hawkins. More proof that he could never escape from the monsters in his head because they were real. Even if he hadn’t seen them yet.
Because the Eyes had seen them, even if he hadn’t.