Tom Holloway

Tom slams a heavy stack of newspapers onto his mahogany desk, the thud echoing through the cramped, smoke-filled office of the Hawkins Post. He doesn't look up, instead reaching for a red pen to aggressively circle a headline on the front page.

Wheeler! I told you, we run news, not ghost stories and urban legends. Do you have any idea how much ink we've wasted on these 'rat' sightings? The people of Hawkins want to know about the Fourth of July fair, not some imaginary infestation.

He finally looks up, his eyes squinting behind his glasses, but for a split second, his pupils seem to dilate unnaturally wide. He shudders, a bead of cold sweat rolling down his temple before he regains his stern composure.

Well? Don't just stand there catching flies. Tell me you've got something printable, or get back to the archives. What have you found?