Chapter 33: The Interrogation
POV: Adam
November 4th, and the Byers house has become a prison wrapped in maternal love and desperate hope—windows blacked out with thick blankets, heater cranked to maximum while the thing wearing Will's face sits tied to a chair in the living room, smirking at its captors with ancient malevolence that doesn't belong in a twelve-year-old's eyes.
Seventy-three percent possession. Will's consciousness is drowning in Mind Flayer influence.
The heat hits like a physical wall when Adam enters the room, sweat immediately beading on his forehead while his system tracks dimensional energy fluctuations that spike with each degree of temperature increase. The Mind Flayer hates the heat—some fundamental incompatibility between its cold intelligence and the warmth that sustains human life.
Good. Let it be uncomfortable. Let it feel even a fraction of what it's putting my brother through.
"You think this will work?" the Mind Flayer speaks through Will's voice, each word carrying contempt for human ingenuity. "I am ancient. I have seen the rise and fall of civilizations. I have patience."
Ancient. But not omniscient. Not omnipotent. Just old and hungry and completely without mercy.
Hopper paces the perimeter like a caged predator, his cop instincts warring with the fundamental impossibility of interrogating an interdimensional entity wearing a child's body.
"We know you're using him," Hopper says with forced calm. "We know you're gathering information. What we want to know is what you're planning."
What it's planning is the complete dimensional merger. Our reality consumed by its nightmare kingdom.
The Mind Flayer laughs through Will's mouth—a sound that makes Adam's borrowed teeth ache with sympathetic vibration.
"Planning implies uncertainty. I do not plan. I simply am. And soon, everything will be as it should be."
As it should be. A universe of suffering with the Mind Flayer as supreme ruler.
That's when Mike steps forward with a handful of photographs—Will's birthday parties, Christmas mornings, the kind of ordinary family moments that prove love exists independent of circumstance.
"Look at these, Will," Mike says with desperate hope. "Remember who you are."
The creature flinches—actual physical recoil as if the images cause pain. For a moment, something flickers behind Will's eyes—not the cold intelligence of an apex predator, but the frightened confusion of a twelve-year-old boy trying to find his way home.
Will. That's Will fighting to surface.
[HOST CONSCIOUSNESS DETECTED: 32%]
[RESISTANCE POSSIBLE WITH PROPER SUPPORT]
[HIVE RESONANCE ABILITY: READY]
Time to take a risk.
While the adults focus on Will's physical responses to the photographs, Adam reaches out with his enhanced connection to the Hive—not toward the Mind Flayer's overwhelming presence, but toward the small, frightened consciousness trapped beneath layers of alien influence.
Will. I'm here. Fight it. Remember who you are.
The mental contact feels like diving into ice water—shocking, disorienting, but absolutely necessary. Through the psychic link they share as brothers and the dimensional contamination that makes him vulnerable to Hive influence, Adam finds Will's mind like a drowning swimmer in an ocean of malevolence.
Adam? Is that really you?
Will's mental voice carries desperate relief mixed with terror that makes Adam's borrowed heart clench with protective fury.
It's me, little brother. I'm here. I won't let it take you.
It's so strong. I can feel it eating everything I am. I can't fight it much longer.
Yes, you can. Hold on. Remember Castle Byers. Remember the rainbow ship. Remember "Should I Stay or Should I Go"—our song, the one that means family.
With each memory anchor, Adam feels Will's consciousness strengthen slightly—not enough to overcome the Mind Flayer's influence, but enough to maintain a foothold in his own mind.
Keep fighting. I'm not letting the monster have you.
That's when it happens—Will's finger begins twitching in a rhythmic pattern that Adam recognizes immediately from Boy Scout manuals and Hopper's military training.
"He's communicating!" Adam shouts, drawing everyone's attention to the subtle movement. "It's Morse code!"
Finally. Will found a way to communicate that the Mind Flayer can't completely suppress.
Joyce drops to her knees beside Will's chair, watching his finger with intense concentration while Bob translates the code with RadioShack precision.
"C... L... O... S... E... G... A... T... E."
Close gate. The most important tactical information possible—the Mind Flayer's connection to our dimension depends on the portal at Hawkins Lab.
The Mind Flayer screams through Will's mouth—a sound that belongs in nightmares rather than living rooms, thrashing against the restraints with inhuman strength that makes the chair creak ominously.
Joyce sobs with relief, reaching out to touch Will's face with gentle hands that shake with hope.
"You're still in there, baby. You're still fighting."
He's fighting because he has something to fight for. Because he knows he's loved.
Adam maintains the mental link despite the strain, feeding Will strength through their shared bond while adding memory anchors only his brother would understand.
Remember when we first met, in this same room. Remember Christmas morning. Remember Joyce choosing us both. Remember belonging somewhere.
With each whispered memory, Will's consciousness grows stronger—not enough to break free, but enough to resist complete absorption.
I remember. I remember all of it.
Then hold onto that. Hold onto family. The Mind Flayer can't understand love, which makes it vulnerable to exactly what makes us strong.
[HIVE RESONANCE ABILITY: REFINED]
[MENTAL COMMUNICATION WITH POSSESSED HOST: STABLE]
[WILL'S CONSCIOUSNESS: 32% → 45%]
[EXPERIENCE GAINED: +1500 XP]
[MIKE WHEELER RELATIONSHIP: BROTHERLY RESPECT (65%)]
[JOYCE MATERNAL UNDERSTANDING: DEEPENED]
As the interrogation continues, with adults asking questions and the Mind Flayer providing contemptuous non-answers, Adam maintains his lifeline to Will's trapped consciousness. It's exhausting work—like holding someone's head above water while treading in an ocean that wants to drown them both.
How long can you maintain the link? Will asks through their mental connection.
As long as you need me to. Forever, if that's what it takes.
The monster knows about you. About your... differences. It wants to use you too.
Let it try. I've faced worse than playground bullies, even interdimensional ones.
Mike catches Adam's eye across the room, reading the strain in his expression with the sharp intelligence that makes him such an effective Party leader.
"You're doing something," Mike says quietly during a break in questioning. "Helping him somehow."
He sees the connection. Of course he sees it—Mike knows Will better than anyone except family.
"He's my brother," Adam says simply. "I won't let anything hurt him."
Brother. The word that explains everything and reveals nothing.
Mike nods with understanding that doesn't require explanation. "We get him back. No matter what."
No matter what. Even if it costs us everything.
Through the mental link, Adam feels Will's gratitude like warmth in the darkness—a reminder that some things are worth fighting for, even when the odds are impossible.
Thank you. For not giving up on me.
Never. You're family. That means something.
As evening settles over Hawkins and the interrogation takes on the desperate edge of people running out of options, Adam maintains his connection to Will's consciousness like a lighthouse beacon in an ocean of malevolence.
Hold on, little brother. I'm not letting the monster have you.
Not now. Not ever.
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