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Summary
“Hello, Mr. Byers,” cuts a woman’s voice, hard and aged, brutal in its clipped efficiency. Will’s eyes snap through the cage, looking beyond the glass to notice a short older woman, sharply dressed in her green fatigues, the stars on her lapel showing her advanced rank. She slowly steps around the edge of the cage, coming to stand next to a table full of vials and white plastic bottles of boldly labeled chemicals, her arms crossed over her chest. “Or would you prefer I called you William?”
Will knows better than to respond. Hopper said that they should hold out as long as they can in silence, that if they are ever about to break, that only when they feel like they can’t go on- they should give their most basic information; name, date of birth, eye color, height, weight. The things that the enemy most likely already knows. So he just blinks, just breathes slowly and deeply, just stands there. She seems to find that funny, as a soft huff escapes her, her eyebrow twitching.
Or: Will meets the real enemy, while the others scramble to save him.
Series
- Part 8 of Metamorphosis