The beginning scene opens with the camera zooming slowly onto a metal door; the government laboratory lights blinking eerily. Suddenly, the door bursts open, a man in a lab coat sprints out, and a chill-inducing siren wails through the speakers. The scientist runs through the laboratory halls and skids to a stop in front of the elevator, as he frantically slaps the up button. He turns around, looking down the hallway, as the sound of the off-screen monster draws closer. Finally, the elevator door opens, and he steps inside, still watching, but the growling is instantly above him, and in an instant, the creature snatches him into the ceiling.

In that same instant, my cat yowls as I pull her to my chest, along with my blanket and phone; my eyes unable to tear away from the screen.

What I witnessed was the first couple minutes of Netflix's new original series, "Stranger Things." The full first season released on July 15, 2016, and the show maintains a full 5-star rating on the popular streaming site, a 9.2/10 rating on IMDb, and a 94 percent rating on Rotten Tomatoes.

Netflix summarizes the plot of the series as, "when a young boy vanishes, a small town uncovers a mystery involving secret experiments, terrifying supernatural forces, and one strange little girl", and the haunting story takes place in an 1983 small town in Indiana.

The series does a particularly good job developing an authentic setting, in contrast to the often outlandish portrayals of the 80's. I wondered as I watched the show, where and how they created a world completely made of 80's materials and props. From the cars, to the televisions, to the ridiculous wood walls and wood-covered refrigerators, everything screams authenticity. Not only that, but the story revolves around a group of boys spending 80 percent of their time out of the house and roaming around the whole town on their bikes. In a time when most children aren't allowed on the front lawn, it is a deliberate and interesting plot point (slightly reminiscent of the Goonies gang).

Aside from the visual effects of the story (even the beginning bleeds 80's horror story with the neon red words and electronic music), the show's story line centers around political conflicts of the 80's. Government experiments done as means of gaining steps up on the Soviet Union, a school mascot painted over a backdrop of a huge American flag, and Cold War-induced patriotism and unrelenting trust towards the United States government.

In my opinion, it is this utterly authentic decade portrayal making the show so terrifying. The monster, often shown only in glimpses, uncannily controls electronics, speaking to characters through their landlines, cord phones, and radios. The creepy calls are not traceable with caller ID, photos taken must be printed and developed before viewing, and texts cannot send quickly letting friends know one in is danger. Police investigations cannot facilitate without advanced technology, and most characters must be reached in person. In order for the main characters to meet and discuss the occurring events, they meeting schedule times at the other's houses with long-range walkie-talkies as their only means of communication.

To a millennial like myself, I must admit this world seems terrifying and isolating. The inability to immediately contact help if attacked or forced into a situation seems so constricting. To go to a photo lab and develop photos for hours before the ability to see them seems so restrictive. The idea of not being connected to hundreds of people at a time, no matter how natural this concept actually is and was for thousands of years, makes the world seem very huge and empty.

So as I sit in my bed at 2:00 AM (literally shivering in my blankets and scared at any moment my own lights might flicker, and the monster might growl from outside my window), I am in awe of how easily the show captured my attention and completely pulled me in with its tones of 80's sci-fi horror and times when Dungeons and Dragons and Star Wars were the coolest things since television. The surreal realness of the show creates an experience making late-night watchers forget their reality, if at least for forty-five minutes.