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In the morning, as the first rays of sunlight stretched across the quiet town of Hawkins, accompanied by the soft chirping of birds echoing from the surrounding woods, Dustin woke up earlier than usual.
He normally would never be up this early, but today was different. Today, he had a mission.
Revenge to his brother!.
He had set his alarm much earlier than usual, forcing himself out of sleep just to get ahead of Chris. His brother always woke up ridiculously early, maybe around six, sometimes even before that and would head out for a morning run. If Dustin wanted to catch him off guard, he had to wake up even earlier.
He tried to sit up, but his body wobbled slightly, still heavy with sleep.
No. He absolutely couldn't let this moment slip away.
Dustin pushed himself upright and stretched his small body, trying to shake off the lingering drowsiness clinging to him. His arms reached up, his back arched slightly, and he let out a quiet breath, forcing himself to be alert.
Then, carefully, he began to move.
Step by step, he walked out of his room, his movements slow and deliberate, almost like a cat stalking through the house. The morning was still early, eerily quiet. There were no sounds of his mother in the kitchen, no footsteps, no clattering dishes, nothing.
Just him who already woke up.
That only made things better.
He continued forward, each step measured, until he reached the door to Chris's room. His hand hovered over the knob for a moment, his lips pressing together as if that alone could silence any sound he might make.
Slowly… carefully… he turned it.
Cleg…
Dustin instantly shut his eyes, his entire face scrunching up as he silently cursed the stupid door mechanism.
'Seriously?!'
He had been so careful and so quiet! And yet this dumb door still made noise.
For a brief second, he thought it was over.
His plan… ruined.
His sacrifice of waking up this early… completely wasted.
He braced himself, waiting….waiting for Chris to stir, to shout, to throw something at him, or at the very least groan in annoyance.
But… Nothing.
No movement from inside or voice.
No reaction at all.
Dustin slowly opened one eye… then the other.
Carefully, he leaned forward and peeked inside.
The room was still dim, the lights off, but the early sunlight had already begun to seep through the window. That was unusual, considering Chris always slept in complete darkness with the curtains tightly shut.
That alone was strange.
But then Dustin's gaze shifted toward the bed. Chris wasn't there.
The bed was perfectly neat, the blanket and pillow still in place as if they hadn't been touched at all.
Dustin finally stepped fully into Chris's room, his eyes scanning the space with growing curiosity. Magazines and music tapes were neatly arranged on the desk, lined up with surprising precision.
Despite the way Chris dressed, like some garage kid or a troublemaker but Dustin knew better. Chris was actually neat. He organized everything himself, always keeping his space in order.
"Where the hell is he?" Dustin muttered, his eyes drifting toward the Madonna poster hanging beside the bed, as if he were asking her directly for an answer. "Did he already go out for a run?" he added under his breath.
He let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly.
So much for that! Waking up this early had been completely pointless.
Well… the whole reason he dragged himself out of bed in the first place was to slap Chris awake as hard as he could.
Yeah.
He wanted revenge for last night.
But now? Nothing.
No Chris, no revenge, no satisfaction!. Just sleepiness creeping back in.
With a defeated sigh, Dustin turned and left the room, heading back toward his own. The hallway connecting their rooms felt quiet, until his mood got worse because of the sound of his bell.
Ding-dong.
The sound of the doorbell echoed faintly from downstairs.
Both of their rooms were on the upper floor, while their mother's bedroom was downstairs, so Dustin didn't think much of it. Normally, his mom would handle it.
He kept walking to his room and ignored the bell….
Ding-dong… Ding-dong… Ding-dong…
Dustin groaned, his face scrunching up in annoyance as the bell kept ringing over and over again.
This wasn't normal.
Whoever was out there wasn't just impatient, they were practically spamming the doorbell like it was a game.
Just as Dustin reached his bedroom door, the ringing still didn't stop.
"Ugh… seriously?" he muttered.
With another annoyed sigh, he turned around and started making his way down the stairs, his steps heavier now, more irritated than sleepy.
Halfway down, he stopped and leaned slightly over the railing.
"MOM! Someone's at the door!" Dustin shouted, not bothering to go all the way down.
His voice echoed through the house and apparently, it was not enough.
Because the person outside suddenly started pressing the bell again, even more aggressively, while knocking loudly on the door at the same time, as if they had heard him and were demanding to be let in immediately.
Dustin groaned louder this time.
"Alright, alright! I'm coming!" he complained, even though no one had actually asked him directly.
He finally stomped down the rest of the stairs, each step louder than necessary.
At that same moment, his mom had already woken up and stepped out of her room. She looked toward Dustin, who was now standing right in front of the door, and began walking toward him.
Dustin opened the front door, already prepared to snap at whoever had just ruined the last bit of his sleep, even though technically, this whole situation was his own fault to begin with.
The door swung open, and Dustin stood there with a deep frown etched across his face.
"WHAT?!" he shouted, his voice sharp and full of irritation.
But before he could continue his rant, his words caught in his throat. Standing in front of him… was a police officer.
Claudia, who had just stepped closer, also saw who it was and her expression shifted into a frown of her own.
This wasn't just any officer.
It was the Chief of Police of Hawkins.
Chief Hopper.
He looked at both Dustin and Claudia with a face that told its own story full of tiredness, worn down, and heavy with something unspoken. His eyes carried the weight of someone who had been up all night, likely deep in an investigation, with no rest to ease the exhaustion clinging to him.
"Good morning, ma'am," Chief Hopper said, giving a small nod to Claudia, barely acknowledging the boy standing in front of him. "I'm afraid I have some bad news…"
His voice was low and careful like he was holding something back, like saying any more too quickly would make it worse.
Claudia tilted her head slightly, confusion crossing her face as her eyes instinctively flickered toward Dustin. She hadn't seen her eldest son, she assumed he was still asleep.
She didn't know.
She didn't know that Chris hadn't come home at all.
The only one who knew that… was Dustin.
And right now, Dustin stood there with his arms crossed, still waiting for this so-called bad news, his annoyance not fully gone yet. In his mind, this was just an inconvenience, another interruption to his already ruined morning.
He didn't even consider, not for a second, that this could have anything to do with Chris.
Chief Hopper took a slow breath before continuing, his expression tightening. His voice carried a quiet solemnity now, weighed down by exhaustion and the dull ache of a growing headache pressing behind his eyes.
"I'm afraid… your son was involved in an accident last night."
He lifted a hand, rubbing his forehead as if even saying it out loud made it heavier.
The words landed like a shockwave to Claudia and Dustin.
Claudia's eyes widened instantly, her breath catching in her throat.
Dustin's mouth fell open, the irritation from earlier vanishing completely in an instant.
"…No," Dustin muttered under his breath, disbelief creeping into his voice.
Claudia couldn't hold herself up anymore.
Her body swayed, her knees threatening to give out beneath her.
Chief Hopper reacted quickly, stepping forward and catching her arm before she could collapse to the floor, steadying her with a firm grip.
Dustin still stood there like a statue, frozen in place, unable to process what he had just heard.
"No!… You're lying!"
Claudia's scream snapped him out of the empty void his mind had fallen into for those few seconds. He turned toward her, his eyes widening as he saw her already breaking down, tears streaming down her face, her body trembling and weak.
"M-Mom…" Dustin whispered, his voice barely there.
"M'am, it's okay… Chris is being taken care of by the doctors right now," Chief Hopper said again, his tone steady but gentle, trying to ground her before she completely collapsed.
Hopper should have informed the family last night.
But Chris hadn't been carrying any identification, and even in a small town like Hawkins, there were still more than ten thousand residents. It wasn't as simple as it sounded.
So Hopper had made the decision to identify the victim first, working with the other officers, while also waiting for updates from the doctors. He had even gone back to the scene himself, inspecting everything more closely before finally receiving confirmation from his team.
It was bad news.
But Chris was still alive, at least according to the last update from the doctor.
"…What about Will?" Dustin's voice finally came out, shaky and fragile.
The moment the question left his mouth, the panic hit him all over again.
Chris hadn't been alone last night.
He had been with Will.
Hopper turned his gaze toward Dustin, a slight frown forming on his tired face.
"Will, the boy is alive and being taken care of too. From my team's report, they're certain he only suffered minor injuries." Hopper paused for a second before continuing, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Do you know anything about last night?"
This time, he subtly glanced at the officer standing beside him.
The officer immediately pulled out a small notebook, ready to write down every word Dustin said.
"Y-Yeah…" Dustin stammered, his thoughts still scattered. "My brother… he was supposed to take Will home last night after we played Dungeons & Dragons at Mike's house."
As Dustin spoke, Hopper's expression shifted.
He was already reconstructing the scene in his mind, running through possibilities, connecting fragments, trying to make sense of it all.
But Dustin's explanation didn't account for everything.
Not the guns.
Not the Molotov cocktails he had found in the saddlebag of Chris's motorcycle.
And definitely not the shotgun.
Yeah, Hopper had found it lying in the woods.
He had checked it himself. Half the shells were gone.
Which meant one thing.
Chris had fired it last night.
But the question that lingered heavy and unanswered pressed deeper into Hopper's thoughts.
'Who… had he been shooting at?'