You can support me on www.patr eon.com/SnickerDoodle99 and get early access to upcoming chapters.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters or settings, only my original ideas.
--------------
The road stretched long and empty beneath the night, swallowed by darkness with not a single passerby in sight. Even though the night was far from over, the silence felt heavy and unnatural, almost suffocating.
At the edge of the road, a Harley lay abandoned.
Not parked, but wrecked.
The bike was twisted into something barely recognizable. Its handlebars were bent at an impossible angle, one side completely snapped off as if torn away by sheer force. Shards of shattered glass from the headlamp were scattered across the asphalt, catching faint glimmers of moonlight like broken stars. The front tire was warped, nearly destroyed from the violent friction of impact, the rubber peeled and shredded. Metal scraped harshly against the ground told a story of speed… and a sudden, brutal stop.
It was nothing short of a miracle that whoever had been riding it could have survived.
"Sector clear, sir."
The voice cut through the stillness.
A man stood near the wreckage, his eyes scanning the surroundings with trained precision. He wore a uniform marked with bold letters of MP stitched onto his sleeve. A thick belt wrapped around his waist, a holster resting at his side where his handgun remained secured. But the weapon in his hands was far from a sidearm, he gripped a larger firearm, held ready, his finger resting dangerously close to the trigger.
Another man approached the wreck.
Unlike the military officer, this one carried himself with a different kind of authority. His suit was neat, pressed, almost too clean for the scene they were standing in. His hair was slicked back with careful precision, not a strand out of place. In one hand, he held a flashlight, its beam cutting through the darkness. In the other, a handgun raised and steady, pointed toward the wreck as if expecting something to move.
He studied the Harley in silence for a moment.
Then he exhaled.
Turning slightly, he looked toward an older man standing a few steps behind him, a man with white hair, dressed just as sharply, his presence quiet but commanding.
The suited man shook his head.
"It's just some accident, sir."
But the words felt… insufficient. Even he didn't sound entirely convinced.
"Doctor Brenner!"
A woman's voice suddenly called out from behind.
The man with white hair or what the woman called him as Dr. Brenner turned at once, his gaze sharp as it landed on her. There was urgency in her tone, something that immediately pulled his attention away from the wreck.
She pointed toward the treeline.
There, partially hidden among the bushes, something pale caught the light.
A leg.
Barely visible, but unmistakably human.
For a moment, no one moved. The air shifted with tense and expectant for something they have fought before, but no, it's just another human being laying there in the cold night.
Brenner didn't rush forward.
Instead, he stilled.
His eyes moved, scanning the area, calculating… searching for something.
Just hours ago, he had lost one of his greatest children.
An asset. A girl who had slipped through his grasp. And now this.
An accident in the middle of nowhere. A destroyed vehicle. A missing rider lying hidden in the dark.
….No.
This wasn't coincidence. His jaw tightened slightly, his expression hardening as the pieces began to form in his mind.
He didn't look at the body.
Instead, he looked into the darkness beyond it. As if expecting something… or someone… to be watching them back.
After getting a report for this accident, they moved in quickly. Too quickly for something that was supposed to be "just an accident."
Brenner felt it immediately. Something was wrong with this kind of accident.
Beside the girl who got 'walked away', there's something more terrifying than the girl.
It's the Monster who came from the other side.
And that knowledge sat heavy in his chest as his eyes swept across the dark treeline. If that thing had been here… if it had attacked the rider…
Then this wasn't an accident.
It was a hunt.
The forest surrounding the road stood still. No rustling leaves, no distant movement, no sign of life. Just darkness stretching endlessly between the trees, like something waiting.
Or someone that had already left.
Dr. Brenner began walking toward the body.
Each step slow like he didn't really care about the body that was laying in the ground.
There were streaks of blood across the rocks, smeared between gravel and broken branches, marking where the body had been dragged or thrown. But what caught his attention most wasn't the blood.
It was the boy.
He's unconscious, but yet he's still breathing.
The child lay partly cradled against the teenage rider's arm, as if he had been protected even in the moment of impact. There were only minor injuries, scratches along his cheek, a thin cut across his hand. Nothing that matched the violence of the crash.
Impossible.
Brenner didn't need to check closely to know the boy had survived from the monster that attacked them.
"...He's still alive." The woman's voice came from beside him as she dropped to her knees, fingers pressing gently against the teenager's neck, searching for a pulse.
She froze for a split second.
Then she looked up at Brenner, shock clear on her face.
No helmet, no protection.
Nothing.
And yet….still breathing.
The boy had been the only one wearing a helmet.
"Sir?"
The military officer stepped closer now, his weapon lowered slightly but still ready, waiting for orders.
Brenner didn't look at him immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the bodies.
"Check the surrounding area. Two minutes." His voice was calm, controlled but there was an edge beneath it.
The man nodded and turned, gesturing sharply for the other MPs to spread out, their figures quickly disappearing into the darkness.
Brenner finally shifted his attention.
"Connie," he said, his tone quieter now, more precise. "Stay with the boy. Try to get information out of him."
Connie Frazier, the woman agent who checked the pulse of the teenager, gave a short nod and already turned her focus back to the child, her hands steady despite the tension in her eyes.
Nearby, the suited agent with the flashlight began issuing orders, his beam slicing through the trees as the MPs fanned out into the forest.
Brenner stepped away.
His attention pulled toward the opposite side of the road.
The pattern didn't sit right.
The motorcycle and its riders had gone down on the left side. The damage… the angle… the way the debris had scattered, they hadn't simply crashed.
They had been forced off from the other direction.
Brenner's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the dark forest across the road.
"Check for energy signatures from that direction," he said, lifting a hand and pointing toward the treeline. "I'm certain we'll find something."
Before anyone could respond, Connie stood and moved closer to him. She is already checking the condition of the boy and the teenager, and something else is bothering her.
"This isn't a normal accident, Brenner." Her voice dropped, low and serious.
Dr. Brenner didn't answer because he already knew and suspected the same.
"Sir!" One of the MPs called out from the bushes not far from the bodies. They stepped aside, revealing what had been hidden beneath the brush.
A broken shotgun.
The barrel was bent, the stock cracked from what looked like a violent impact against stone but when one of the MPs carefully checked it, his expression shifted.
"It's still loaded."
Several shells remained inside. Unfired and stuck in the chamber of the gun.
Brenner's gaze lingered on the weapon.
"....He's fighting back," Dr. Brenner said quietly, almost to himself, his eyes still fixed on the wreckage and the bodies. "Check the bag."
The MP didn't hesitate. He moved quickly toward the motorcycle, crouching beside what remained of it, hands working through the torn saddlebag.
A moment later, his expression changed.
Another layer of surprise settled over the group.
"It's guns, a magnum… and…" He hesitated, then lifted a broken bottle, its contents long spilled and soaking into the gravel. "Molotovs, sir!"
He hurried back toward them, holding up the evidence.
Dr. Brenner took in the sight of the handgun, the heavier magnum, the shattered glass still damp with fuel. His expression didn't change much, but his mind clearly was moving, calculating and connecting the dots.
"Either he's a troublemaker kid… or he knows something," Connie said softly, her gaze drifting toward the unconscious teenager lying among the rocks and brush.
Then she shook her head slightly.
"That's impossible. There's been no data leak from the lab."
"Exactly," Brenner replied, his tone calm, almost agreeing but his eyes sharpened as they shifted toward the MP in front of him. "Which is why you're going to ask the kid." His command is not for the MP, but for the woman beside him.
"No problem." Connie slipped one hand into the pocket of her coat as the cold night air wrapped tighter around them, seeping into skin and bone, into the boy who still lay motionless on the ground.
She glanced at the weapons again. "Should we get rid of the guns?"
"No." Brenner answered without hesitation. "Wipe your fingerprints and put them back where you found them." He paused, then added, almost thoughtfully, "Let the police do their work."
Always one step ahead.
Connie said nothing, only watched as the MPs and the lab's personnel continued sweeping the area. The suited agent joined them, moving efficiently, pushing the search forward.
They all knew what this was. No, they are suspecting this.
A monster attack. The same monster that they need to deal with in the lab.
But what they didn't know… was why these two are the one who's getting attacked?.
And the missing asset?
No.
That didn't fit.
She was a kind child after all. And a little terrified at the moment, the monster and how she's running away from the lab.
Elsewhere, one of the doctors investigating the forest across the road finally found something, a faint trace that was almost gone.
Energy.
Weak, but still clinging to the air, like a fading echo of something that didn't belong in this world. They called for Brenner immediately.
But by the time he arrived…It was gone.
Still, it was enough. Their suspicion was confirmed.
The monster had been here. It had attacked the boy and the teenager.
And for the briefest moment, something unfamiliar flickered across Brenner's face even though he already suspected this. He already suspects the teenager is fighting the monster.
A little shock, because as he looked back toward the unconscious teenager, he couldn't ignore the possibility.
This confirmed that the teenager really had fought it.
Fought the same creature that had slaughtered trained personnel inside his lab. With only a shotgun.
Maybe he hadn't killed it. But forcing it back… sending it to the other side…That alone was a victory.
"Change of plans," Brenner said at last, his voice steady again, controlled. "Keep an eye on the teenager. Try to get more information out of him."
His gaze shifted briefly to Connie.
Connie gave a small nod and reached for her phone, dialing quickly for an ambulance, then Hawkins police.
Behind her, Brenner turned and walked back toward his car as the agents began to wrap things up, careful and methodical. No traces. No signs they had ever been there.
Like ghosts.
Connie returned to the bodies after the calls, kneeling briefly as she pulled off her coat and draped it over them. First the boy, then the teenager, before finally heading back to her car, seeking warmth inside.
But her thoughts didn't settle.
She knew what Brenner had been thinking.
They would shape this story.
Make the teenager look like a reckless, armed delinquent with guns, Molotovs, everything pointing to chaos. If the boy and the teenager ever spoke… no one would believe them.
Crazy kids.
That was the narrative.
And if necessary…
Brenner would take the teenager. Bring him into the lab and extract whatever information he has.
Connie glanced at them again through the car window, the boy and the teenager lying side by side in the cold and still unmoving.
The brave ones.
They had fought a monster and they had won, but not without a price.
She didn't know the extent of the teenager's injuries, maybe a severe concussion from the impact… or something worse.
She hoped for the best, but she had been in this line of work long enough to understand the odds.
If the worst happened, then the boy would become their focus instead.
They needed more data. But for now, they would stay patient and observe the situation.
Because they had already lost people.
And they didn't need to feel anything more for these two than what was necessary.