Krueger He inspected the razor glove he'd just spent hours perfecting. And it sure looked perfect for what he had in mind. Namely, gutting little piggies. He sat by his windows most days, just watching them. Loving families playing games with affectionate kids. The type of scene that would warm anybody's heart. But it didn't warm his. It just made him feel bitter. He remembered the very first kid he'd killed. He must have been only 12 or 13. It had been a complete accident :

He'd been picking Fred's pockets. Fred had been passed out at the time. Drunk as a skunk on cheap whiskey, trying to blot out the things his foster father, Larry Underwood had done to him. He wishes he'd been there to see the bastard fry. But no, he'd paid the guy to do it. He took a Huge portion of Underwood's savings, paid $200 to have his house burned down and hadn't even stayed to watch. All he'd done since leaving was drink. He'd felt completely worthless. Like he couldn't accomplish anything. And it was that fateful night, lying in the gutter that he'd been freed from his monotomy.

He awoke with a start, and not knowing what to expect, just that somebody was violating him and he didn't like it, he struck out, with the closest thing to hand, which was his (Unfortunately) half full bottle of whiskey. The kids head was pumping with blood, as his four young friends/accomplices ran off. He carried the young boy down an embankment he knew only too well. One that had often sheltered him on cold, lonely nights. Now he'd come to he realized something. He actually had something this boy did not. A beating heart. It filled him with a power he'd never known before. He felt alive for the first time in his life. And he liked it. He lay the boy down and sliced four long marks into his chest using his trusty straight razor, to signify the four that got away. As he watched, wide eyed at how much blood was pumping out of the boy's chest, he knew, that someday he would have to forever remember the four that got away.

Present Day

Once he'd felt invigorated at the scene of his murder,he'd actually been given a new lease on life, had moved to the nearby Town of Springwood(Where the rich folk lived) and gotten himself a job at the local power plant, operating the old boiler, the one no one dared approach after the old explosion some ten years previous, in which five had lost their lives. This made it perfect for him. He soon had enough money to buy a run down old shack, it wasn't much, but had a bed, a stove and working electricity, so suited him Just right. For now. But seeing these children playing happily stirred something deep down inside him. He hated it. Why do they deserve a life he could never have?

That was it. His original intention had been to murder the parents of these snot nosed brats, but then it hit him. What better way of tearing these damn families apart was there than snatching away the very things that invigorated them? The children. Of course. He'd show them. All along the four slashes came to his mind. Reminding him of the power.
He wanted that feeling again. He got to work on his glove, the only lesson at school he'd really excelled in was shop class, and it showed, as he got to work on his leather glove with metal plating and four razor sharp 6 inch blades coming off each of the fingertips.

Putting the plan into action

He'd been stalking around Springwood elemtary for days, arriving before the parents, leaving after the parents, arrousing no suspicion with his friendly hello's and how do you do's, lies of wanting to send his young cousin to school there, someday. He'd been there for four days and everyday he noticed one little girl leave school five minutes earlier than all other's just to wait on her mother. He'd gotten so damn good at this he'd even managed to catch her mother calling to her by name. Allison, he thought to himself and grinned. This will be fun. As young Allison sat on the sidewalk outside school for the fifth day running, with again, no one to pick her up, he snuck down the alley on the far side of a school and called out in a sweet whisper 'Allison' The young girl perked her ears up at hearing her name. The second time she heard it she lifted her head. She heard it again and turned her head. The next time, she stood up, walking in the direction of the soothing voice, that sounded a lot like her Kindergarten teacher Mr Holloway as he read the class Whinnie The Pooh's Great Honey Adventure. She missed those days with a passion. No matter how much her mother told her to grow up, she wanted to be an infant again, dammit. So it's no great surprise she walked towards the voice that was calling to her.

She only saw the man in shadows, initially, so walked closer just to see him 'H-h-hello' She stammered weakly.
'Why hello, lil missy' came the reply from Fred, much less jovially. 'Good to see you, lil piggy' The little girl, who had no concept of time, who thought it'd been two hours rather than minutes, since she'd left school, asked 'Who are you? My mommy usually picks me up, why are you here, mister?' 'Oh your mommy couldn't make it darlin' He drawled, as he walked around her, subtlely, before walking forwards, which had her walking subconciously ahead of him 'But I'm Here now. I'm your uncle Freddy' He said, not liking the name Freddy before, as that's the one thing he'd dreaded Mr Underwood saying, as it usually followed a beating.

The young girl looked confused... 'But I don't have an uncle Freddy' she pointed out with all of her 7 year old knowledge. 'You do now' Said Fred, as he sunk his blades deep into the girls abdomen. He coverd her mouth with his hand to stifle her screams, and felt a huge surge of power course through his veins as the girl lay dying, her school shirt now a deep crimson.

He carried her corpse to his van, neither knowing, nor caring that Allison was an accomplished Ice Skater, and that she left school early to go get ready to go to practise. The poor girl had won a few Bronze trophies but never managed to advance to even a silver. And now she never would. Fred covered the girl's body in tarp and drove back to his shack. Pleased that he'd gotten that same rush he'd gotten the last time. He needed to show his face at Springwood Elementary a couple more times though, now and again, so as not to raise suspicion. He couldn't go missing at the same time as this girl, that wouldn't be the smart thing to do. As he drove towards his shack he grinned to nobody but himself, knowing what to do next. Knowing they would all pay, knowing that they wouldn't suspect. Knowing that his reign of terror wouldn't be over anytime soon.