Hazmat Suit Stranger Things Novels & Stories

I would never be able to live with myself if I just ran away from something I could make a difference in. As I made my way to my locker, I passed the lost-and-found by the office. It had a couple of pieces of clothing. I had no idea what kind of mutants I was dealing with, so I went through the box. Some of the items smelled like they sat here for years. I ignored some of the worst smelling items and pulled a light zip up hoodie to cover my arms. I put on a mismatched set of gloves and pocketed another pair in case I lost one. I tied an extra hoodie around my waist. Large hands grabbed me. Turning me around. “What the hell are you doing?” Bartise yelled over the panicking group of people pas

Heavily armed mercenaries, cybernetic bounty hunters, and multi-limbed scavengers watched the transport skiff land with hungry, predatory eyes. The ramp hissed down. Sebastian Sterling stepped onto the grime-covered deck, and the temperature on the dock seemed to drop by ten degrees. He didn't try to blend in. He wore a sharply tailored, pitch-black tactical suit that screamed immeasurable wealth and lethal precision. Harper walked smoothly beside him, her blonde hair pulled into a sleek, high ponytail. She wore a dark, form-fitting nanolaminate jacket over her Architect uniform, her blue eyes scanning the chaotic crowd with cold, analytical brilliance.

"The Argus reboot is at ninety percent. If the security hub sees that rail, they won't send guards. They'll send the harvesters." We reached my quarters in a frantic, silent blur. The room felt like a tomb. The scent of Damian’s cedar and propellant still clung to the tactical jacket I wore—the one he’d used to cover me. I sat on the edge of the bed, the disruptor still in my hand. Julian scrambled at the wall unit, pulling vials of amber suppressants, his breath coming in jagged hitches. Sarah stood by the window, her silhouette sharp against the orange glow of the perimeter fires.

I leaped down from the hatch, my knees buckling slightly as gravity fully reasserted itself, and slammed into his arms. "I told you I'd bring it back," I laughed, my voice raw, burying my face in his grease-stained lab coat. "You brought it back dented," my father choked out, tears shining behind his cracked glasses as he squeezed me tight. "But I'll let it slide this time." Behind me, the Vanguard emerged from the pod. They looked like they had crawled out of a mechanical hell. Their matte-black Abyssal breach suits were scorched, dented, and covered in deep-sea grime.

It sounded almost human, yet there was something animal in it, too. It sounded like something that had torn open its throat. It was hard to imagine what creature produced that raw, guttural cry. Boom! A blast from a heavy weapon shattered the darkness before Hayley, the blazing fire lighting up her field of vision. What she saw made her stomach drop. A massive wave of zombies came pouring out from the far end of the hall. Some were in white hazmat suits, others still wearing pale-blue hospital gowns. They looked like demons clawing their way up from hell, surging toward the soldiers holding the line ahead.

“I think I need to do this alone.” “Alright.” She exhaled. “But call me tonight. Or I’ll assume the AI-controlled pantry swallowed you whole.” I smiled. “Deal.” We said goodbye, and I finally approached the suitcase. The zipper stuck a little at the corner, like even it didn’t want to face what was inside. Half the clothes were smoke-drenched or permanently stained. I pulled out a hoodie, one of the only things that smelled like home instead of soot. And then I saw it.

Chapter Five – The Claiming Four men in matte black suits and featureless black masks stand motionless along the mirrored walls. They are Lucien’s personal security. They do not speak. They do not blink. They simply watch. The stranger closes the door behind them and turns the lock. He releases her arm at last and steps back. For a long moment he does nothing but look at her, the way a collector finally regards the masterpiece he has waited years to own. “Remove the dress,” he says quietly.

The kind of presence that made your heart sprint. “Oh my God!” I dropped the frame back onto the cabinet and stumbled behind him, gripping the back of his shirt like a terrified child. They looked armed. Dangerous. Definitely not here for a neighborhood watch. “G-Gino…” My fingers tightened. “It’s okay, Gabby. They won’t hurt you,” he said, calm as ever. Easy for him to say. “They look ridiculous, Chibi-kun,” I hissed. “It’s the middle of the night and they’re wearing shades. Who dressed them, a blind stylist?”

The other Liz, whom I had first met at Union Station in Kansas City and had coached me through my first encounter with Black-Eyed Kids, started wearing a headband that made her look like a 1980’s fitness instructor and was designated Liz-2. Sure enough, we came upon some trees that had dead bodies hanging on the branches. They weren’t tied with ropes or chains or anything. Their drooping forms were unceremoniously draped over branches large enough to bear their weight. “They’re wearing S.H.A.D.E. uniforms,” Mitch said. “I wonder what got them?” “Well, we don’t have time to climb up and fetch one for a post-mortem examination,” Mont said. “Let’s just hope whatever it was doesn’t get us,” Joni

Restoring the shrine after uncovering the secret to this messed-up floor’s lore was easy. “The snake hazmat suit is ready,” Damian chimed over the party call. “I’m sending it in the shared storage. It should automatically fit you. We have more than enough snakeskin for one person. Test it for leaks first and use your mushroom mask as a poisonous gas filter.” Zen thanked Damian and tried on the newly crafted suit. The snakeskin pattern made it look more like a patch quilt than a hazmat suit. Despite the horrendous fashion statement it made, the snakeskin hazmat Damian put together worked well. Zen cautiously stepped into the poisonous river and held his breath even after fitting the mushroom