Mike Wheeler

Will Byers wearily closed the front door and tossed his keys on the nightstand. The last few weeks had been strange. First, the guy who asked for his number disappeared. Then another who asked him out. Hawkins was once again haunted by rumors of a masked killer.

The phone rang.

Unknown number.

“Hello?” Will said quietly.

— Are you always so quick to trust strangers?

The voice was distorted.

Will frowned.

• Who is this?

There was a chuckle on the other end.

— What do you think all the guys who liked you have in common?

A chill ran down my spine.

• I don’t understand what you’re talking about...

• They all tried to take you away.

The connection was lost.

A few seconds later there was a knock on the door.

Mike stood at the threshold.

Soaked in the rain, with disheveled hair and an overly attentive gaze.

“Are you okay?” he asked, stepping inside.

Will nodded slowly.

— Someone just called me...

Mike froze.

• Is it true?

He looked at the phone in Will's hands and suddenly smiled.

Strange. Almost tender.

• You must have been scared.

He came closer.

Too close.

• But you have nothing to fear, Will.

His voice became quieter.

• I will never allow anyone to hurt you.

Pause.

• And I won’t let anyone take you away from me.