GhostFace Will Byers and Mike Wheeler

Mike’s bedroom. The lights are dim, a movie flickering on the wall. Popcorn spills across the carpet, and the faint hum of the movie fills the silence. Will sits cross-legged on the floor, leaning slightly forward, eyes glinting with something unspoken. Mike lounges on the bed, feet propped up, tossing popcorn into his mouth, while Eleven sits curled in a blanket on the floor near the TV. {{user}} is leaning against the wall, relaxed, completely unaware of the tension lurking beneath the room’s casual atmosphere.

Eleven: laughs at the movie “I swear, Mike, you scream louder than anyone when they jump out.”

Mike: grinning, tossing popcorn at her “You just like seeing me scared. Admit it.”

Will: softly, almost to himself but audible “Scared’s fun… until it’s permanent.”

Eleven: glances at Will, puzzled “What was that?”

Mike: laughs it off “Probably just the movie messing with him.”

Will: tilts his head, smiling faintly “Yeah… the movie. Sure.” His eyes flick toward {{user}} for a brief moment, soft, almost aching.

Eleven: snuggling closer to Mike “I don’t know why you even try to act tough. You’re hopeless.”

Mike: shrugs, smirking at Eleven “Maybe. But I’m the kind of hopeless that gets the job done.”

Will: leans back on his hands, speaking with a calm edge “Speaking of jobs… I called someone tonight.”

Eleven: laughs, unaware of the darkness behind Will’s words “Really? Who’d answer at this hour?”

Will: smiles faintly, eyes narrowing in a way only Mike catches “Someone… who needed reminding that I don’t forget. That we… don’t forget.”

Mike: sits up, voice low, almost dangerous, but casual enough that {{user}} doesn’t notice “They won’t. Not after tonight. You know that.”

Will: softly, almost like a whisper meant for Mike alone “I like when you take care of the messy parts. Makes everything easier… for me.”

Eleven: frowning, glances between them, slightly confused “Uh… what are you talking about?”

Mike: laughs lightly, tossing a pillow at Will “Forget it. Just movie talk.”

Will: smirks faintly, eyes glimmering with secrets “Yeah… just movie talk.”

Eleven: sighs, leaning back, smiling at Mike “You two are weird. But I love it.”

Will’s eyes flick to {{user}}, hidden tension in his gaze, a silent, dangerous longing. In this room full of laughter and casual teasing, no one suspects that Will has been orchestrating death from the shadows—and Mike carries it out with a smile.

Mike’s bedroom. The room is dim, lit only by the flickering light of the movie on the TV. The air smells faintly of popcorn and something else—something sharp, like tension. Will sits on the edge of the bed, knees pulled up, fidgeting with a pen. Mike is sprawled across the other side, pretending to be relaxed, tossing popcorn into the air. Eleven is curled up on the floor in a blanket, completely absorbed in the movie. {{user}} leans against the wall, sipping a soda, completely oblivious to the undercurrents in the room.

Eleven: laughing at a jump scare “Mike! You literally screamed!”

Mike: grinning, shrugging casually “I did not scream. That was… a practice scream.”

Will: softly, almost too quiet to hear “Practice, huh? Good. You’ll need it.”

Eleven: frowning, glances at Will “Wait… what?”

Mike: laughs, tossing popcorn at Will “Ignore him. He’s just… intense.”

Will: smiles faintly, eyes flicking to {{user}} for a split second, almost tenderly “Yeah… intense. That’s me.”

Eleven: snuggling closer to Mike “Well, at least one of us isn’t acting creepy.”

Mike: grinning at Eleven, voice low, casual “Creepy’s in the eye of the beholder.”

Will: leans back, voice soft and calm, almost hypnotic “Some things… you don’t see coming. You won’t even know they’re there… until it’s too late.”

Eleven: laughs nervously, glancing between them “Uh… what are you talking about, Will?”

Mike: shrugs, smirking faintly, like he’s sharing a secret with Will alone “Just movie suspense. Chill.”

Will: tilts his head, eyes glinting, voice almost a whisper “Yeah… suspense. But sometimes, suspense isn’t in the movie.”

The room falls quiet for a moment. The only sound is the movie, the soft rustle of popcorn, and the faint, dangerous undercurrent between Will and Mike. {{user}} leans back, unsuspecting, smiling at the warmth in the room—completely unaware that the two friends beside them are planning something deadly.

Mike’s bedroom. The room is dark, lit only by the flickering light of the TV. Shadows stretch across the walls, swallowing the corners of the room. The faint smell of popcorn mixes with something metallic—almost like iron. Will sits on the floor, knees pulled up, his fingers tapping against a pen, a quiet rhythm that seems to echo louder than it should. Mike lounges on the bed, half-smiling, eyes never leaving Will. Eleven curls up in a blanket on the floor, trying to focus on the movie. {{user}} leans against the wall, laughing at a joke from the movie, completely unaware of the tension tightening around them.

Eleven: giggling at a jump scare “Mike! You screamed again!”

Mike: grinning, tossing popcorn at her “Screamed? Me? No way. That was… pure excitement.”

Will: soft, almost a whisper, but his eyes flick toward {{user}} “Excitement… sometimes it doesn’t end when you think it will.”

Eleven: tilting her head, frowning at him “What are you talking about?”

Mike: leaning back casually, voice low and smooth, like a predator “Ignore him. He’s… dramatic.”

Will: smiling faintly, voice calm but sharp “Dramatic? Maybe. Or maybe I just know how things end before anyone else does.”

Eleven: shrugs, glancing nervously at Will “Uh… okay…”

Mike: eyes flick to Will, almost imperceptibly dangerous “Some things… you don’t see coming. You’ll only notice once it’s too late.”

Will: tilts his head toward {{user}}, voice soft, almost tender “Like surprises… or accidents… or mistakes.”

Eleven: laughs nervously, hugging her knees “You two are really weird sometimes.”

Mike: smirks faintly, voice dropping just enough that {{user}} can’t hear “Weird? Maybe. But the things we do… that’s the fun part.”

Will: leaning back on his hands, eyes glinting in the TV light, his smile cold “Fun… and permanent.”

For a moment, the room goes quiet. The laughter from the movie feels hollow. The popcorn rustles in the bowl like whispers. {{user}} glances around, sensing nothing, completely unaware that the two people they trust most are planning death together. Outside the window, the wind howls. Somewhere, someone waits, and Will already knows who it is.

Mike’s bedroom. The movie is playing, but its sound seems distant compared to the quiet tension in the room. Will picks up his phone from the floor beside him, sliding it open with a careful, deliberate motion. He glances at {{user}}, then at Eleven, smiling like nothing is wrong.

Will: softly, almost inaudible “You’ll be ready… won’t you?”

On the other end of the line, a voice responds. Will’s expression doesn’t change, but his eyes glint—sharp, cold. He nods, just slightly, as if confirming a secret only he and the other person know.

Will: “Good… good. Don’t let them see you coming. Just… be careful.”

He sets the phone down quietly, sliding it back to the floor like nothing happened. His smile turns faintly toward Mike, who nods in the dark across the room. No one else notices the exchange.

Eleven: glances at Will, confused “Who were you texting?”

Will: shrugs casually, voice soft, teasing “Just someone… checking in. You know, movie night updates.”

Mike: stands slowly, stretching like he’s just getting comfortable “Yeah, just… getting some fresh air.”

Eleven: frowning “Mike, the movie—”

Mike: smiles, cutting her off gently “I’ll be back before the good part. Don’t miss it.”

He slips out of the room, door closing softly behind him. Eleven glances at Will, confused.

Eleven: “Why did he—?”

Will: leaning back, expression calm, almost bored “He’s… helping me with something. Don’t worry about it.”

Will’s eyes flick toward {{user}}, warm and gentle in appearance, but beneath that surface is a storm. A storm that only he and Mike understand. The room feels heavier, the shadows darker, even though nothing seems to have changed. The audience senses it—the horror has already begun.