The kids of Hawkins love naming their nightmares after Dungeons & Dragons legends, but do the Upside Down’s monsters actually live up to the tabletop hype? I’m dusting off my Monster Manual to pit the show’s villains against their original counterparts in an all out slobberknocker of lore and stats. From the Demogorgon’s brute strength to Vecna’s god-tier magic, we’re about to find out if the show’s Big Bads are a Total Party Kill or just a low-level encounter.
If you know me, you know that two of my biggest loves in this world are getting lost in a chaotic tabletop RPG session and binge-watching 80s nostalgia horror. Stranger Things has been a gift to nerds like me since it dropped in 2016. It didn’t just give us a gripping sci-fi mystery; it brought Dungeons & Dragons into the mainstream cultural conversation in a way we hadn’t seen before.
But as a longtime Dungeon Master, I’ve always had a bone to pick with the kids from Hawkins. They have a habit of naming the extradimensional horrors threatening their town after legendary D&D monsters. It’s a coping mechanism, sure, but it also leads to some confusion. Is the Demogorgon from the Upside Down anything like the Prince of Demons from the Monster Manual? Could Eleven take down a real Mind Flayer?
Today, I’m putting on my DM robe and stepping into the ring. We’re going to pit the Stranger Things villains against their tabletop namesakes in a no-holds-barred cage match. We’ll look at their stats, their lore, and their power levels to see who’s the true Big Bad. Let’s roll for initiative!
Let’s start where it all began. In Season 1, Mike and the gang dubbed the petal-faced nightmare hunting Will Byers “The Demogorgon.” It was terrifying, relentless, and arguably the most iconic creature design of the last decade. But does it hold a candle to the original?
The Stranger Things Demogorgon is a predator. It’s animalistic, driven by the scent of blood, and operates largely on instinct. It possesses immense physical strength, durability that shrugs off small arms fire, and the ability to travel between dimensions. It’s scary because it’s primal—like the shark in Jaws or the xenomorph in Alien. You can’t reason with it; you can only run.
The problem? It’s just a beast (at least in Season 1).
We saw Hopper go toe-to-toe with one (with a sword, which was awesome), and we’ve seen them taken down by fire and telekinesis. They’re dangerous, sure, but they’re mortal foot soldiers in a larger war.
The D&D Legend
In Dungeons & Dragons, Demogorgon isn't a species—he's a singular entity. He's the Prince of Demons, a title he earned by being the absolute worst thing in the Abyss. Standing 18 feet tall with a reptilian body, tentacled arms, and two baboon heads named Aameul and Hethradiah, he's nightmare fuel personified.
This guy doesn't just bite you. He drives you insane by looking at you. His gaze can hypnotize, rot your flesh, or turn you against your friends. He commands armies of demons and rivals other demon lords like Orcus. If the Stranger Things Demogorgon is a shark, the D&D Demogorgon is a hurricane made of hate and madness.
The Verdict
This isn't even a contest. The D&D Demogorgon is a god-tier threat that requires a party of level 20 adventurers to even stand a chance. The Hawkins version is a scary animal that a few teenagers with baseball bats and hairspray can inconvenience.
Winner: D&D Demogorgon. He'd wipe the floor with the entire Upside Down ecosystem before breakfast.
Seasons 2 and 3 introduced us to a threat that was less physical and more existential. The Mind Flayer—or the Shadow Monster—represented a hive mind intelligence bent on conquering dimensions. It felt ancient and unknowable. But how does it stack up against the tentacle-faced slavers of the Underdark?
The Hawkins Contender
The show's Mind Flayer is massive—a towering storm of shadows that can possess thousands of hosts simultaneously. In Season 3, it built a physical proxy body out of melted rats and people (gross), showcasing its terrifying adaptability. Its greatest strength is its hive mind: hurt one part of it, and the whole thing knows. It's a conqueror that acts like a virus, spreading and corrupting everything it touches.
The D&D Legend
In tabletop lore, Mind Flayers (or Illithids) are alien conquerors who enslave entire races and feast on brains to sustain themselves. They're terrifying because they're smart—scary smart. They wield psionic powers that can blast your mind into jelly or dominate your will entirely.
However, an individual Mind Flayer is just a monster. The real threat comes from their Elder Brain—a giant brain floating in a brine pool that directs the entire colony. The Elder Brain is a powerful psionic hub, but it’s physically immobile and relies on its minions for protection.
The Verdict
This one is trickier. A single D&D Mind Flayer is smarter and more dangerous than a single Demodog, but the Stranger Things Mind Flayer is a cosmic entity. It’s more comparable to a D&D god or a Great Old One warlock patron than a standard monster.
While Illithids are terrifying, they’re mortal. You can stab a Mind Flayer. You can fireball an Elder Brain. The Shadow Monster is a cloud of sentient particles and psychic energy that spans dimensions.
In a one-on-one fight, the sheer scale of the Hawkins Mind Flayer wins. It’s not just a monster—it’s an environment.
Winner: Stranger Things Mind Flayer. It’s simply too big to fail.
Now we get to the main event. Season 4 introduced us to the architect of all our pain: Vecna.
Revealed to be Henry Creel, or One, he’s the dark mirror to Eleven. He’s cruel, calculating, and enjoys breaking his victims mentally before he snaps their bones. He’s the best villain the show has had, but he shares his name with perhaps the most famous villain in D&D history.
Henry Creel is a powerhouse. He has high-level telekinesis, remote viewing, and the ability to invade minds across dimensions. He attacks his victims through their trauma, which is a terrifyingly brilliant tactic.
He’s resilient, too—surviving Molotovs and shotgun blasts.
He also sees himself as a god, wanting to reshape the world into something “beautiful” (by which he means dead and rotting). He’s the general commanding the Mind Flayer and the Demogorgons. He’s the man behind the curtain.
In Dungeons & Dragons, Vecna started as a human wizard so terrified of death that he became a lich—an undead mage who hid his soul in a phylactery. But he didn’t stop there. He grew so powerful that he ascended to godhood. He is the God of Secrets.
Vecna is missing his left hand and left eye, which are now artifacts of immense power in the game. If you equip the Hand of Vecna, you gain superpowers, but first you have to cut off your own hand to attach it. That’s the level of metal we’re dealing with here.
Vecna can cast spells that alter reality, stop time, or kill you with a word. He wrote the Book of Vile Darkness. He is the ultimate end-game boss.
The Verdict
I love Henry Creel. Jamie Campbell Bower gave a chilling performance that haunts my dreams. But we’re comparing a very strong psychic human to a literal god of magic.
The D&D Vecna has had thousands of years to perfect his craft. He’s survived betrayals, deicide attempts, and being erased from existence. Henry Creel struggled against a few teenagers with Walkmans and a sword.
If D&D Vecna showed up in Hawkins, he wouldn’t need to open gates slowly—he would just snap his skeletal fingers and rewrite reality. Henry is an apprentice compared to the Whispered One.
Winner: D&D Vecna. It’s not just a victory; it’s a total party kill.
When we look at the scorecard, the tabletop originals take the series 2-1.
The D&D versions of Demogorgon and Vecna operate on a power scale that the show simply doesn’t reach, mostly because a TV show needs the heroes to have a fighting chance. If the kids had to fight the actual Prince of Demons, the show would be one episode long and end very badly.
The Stranger Things writers deserve credit, though. They didn’t just copy the monsters—they adapted the feeling of them. They captured the dread of facing something you don’t understand. They used the names as shorthand for the characters (and the audience) to grasp the stakes.
The beauty of both versions is how they inspire us.
Whether you're rolling dice in a basement or shouting at your TV while "Running Up That Hill" plays for the fiftieth time, these monsters do their job. They bring us together to root for the underdogs.
They remind us that even when the odds are impossible—when the villain is a literal god or a shadow monster—you stand your ground for your friends.
So, I'm turning it over to you.
Do you think I was too hard on Henry Creel? Is there a Stranger Things monster I missed that you think is tougher than its D&D inspiration?
Let me know in the comments below!
