First fanfic... well, ever, and I have no Idea if I will ever write another. At any rate, constructive criticism is always loved. Just don't be totally harsh about it please. I am a big freddy fan, and to be totally honest, the new movie inspired me to make a Fanfic with Freddy and an OC. He was always saying, "remember me," to the point where I was saying, "What if they do remember you," ... out loud. But, that is besides the point! This is a more, hey what the hell fic. seeing that I read plenty and never write one. I am highly inspired by Faulkner, Kafka, and a few other classical authors along with D.P.&L.C., who have a mix of incredibly short sections to extremely long chapters. So just a warning in advanced, not all of my chapters will be lengthy as the others I have seen else where on the side. Hope you may be able to respect that. Much love and hope you enjoy!

I do not own NOES or any of the characters in it.

It's your turn.

What if Freddy forgot?

What if he forgot some one that knew them all too well?

What if they wanted him to know?

He could smell her, sweet as fresh watermelon, radiating… serenity, curiosity, youth. The long grotesque tongue rolled leisurely over his lips as a soft chuckle sounded from the inner core of his being. It had been ages it seemed since he had a fresh piece of meat, and like a starving man he was ravenous for nourishment. "Damn hypnocil," he scoffed under his breath in disgust. The retched poison was ruining his business entirely, except for a few of his regular toys of course. Five… no three, the other two he killed off finally last week, was all he had to play with for the past few months and he had grown bored of them long ago. Cracked smile spreading over his face, he couldn't help but feel a sort of childish excitement similar to the innocent feverishness of Christmas mornings bounty or the middle of the night on Halloween while rifling through numerous pillow cases.

It was female, and she was coming closer to him. Her steps echoing in the cavernous labyrinth of metal and steam. Time to play. Leisurely he tipped his dirty brown fedora down over his eyes with a clawed finger, and in a swift motion the sound of metal against metal cut through the air like a thousand knives as metal hit metal. Silence, she stopped, she resumed… was she actually continuing forward. "Stupid girl," he teased, gravely voice filtering through the dream world and engulfing her with a sea of harsh laughter as an after shock. She stopped again… then continued forward. 'What the hell,' they usually turned high heal around and running like mad by now. His scarred face frowned the best it could with his sunken in cheek muscles. Brow furrowed, her moved forward until her steps seemed only feet away, separated only by steam.

They were on a catwalk, at a stand still, both silhouettes outline just barely showing through the steam. He was far taller then her, maybe three quarters of a foot taller. She was thing, but not too thin, if anything she had some cautious curves on her form that made him feel momentarily giddy. Long hair, wearing what looked like pants and a long sleeve T-shirt, 'it was summer, and this bitch dares to cover up. I'll have to fix that now won't I,' he thought as the smirk grew wider on his face. By his will, the steam began to lift, slowly revealing her body. First the feet, bare with cute lime green painted toenails, mud stained jeans just resting atop her ankles. He frowned, 'such a mess in my home!' Her legs, covered in the torn up and mud spotted jeans led up to a fine torso, not too heavily breasted, but just right. Anything above a handful was a bit of a waste. Finally, her face, above her purple covered torso and pale white hands that clung nervously at her collar, a pale ivory skin with luminous green orbs peering out at him- wide and terrified. She reminded him of an elegant dog, caught muddying the houses brand new carpet and ready for what was to come. A low chuckle erupted from his throat as he tilted his head up, revealing his scarred and sunken feature; a gloved hand raising lazily and clicking away at a rapid speed, "now, now, where is that bravery I thought I smelled?"

He took a step forward; she remained rooted. Another step, and there she still stayed, like a statue. "You think your funny, bitch," he growled viciously advancing on her quickly- still she did not move. She just stood there staring, and it was starting to un-nerve a portion of him he had no idea existed. How ever, it was quickly suppressed by a boiling rage that gleamed in his bright orange orbs. How dare she, and now she wouldn't even speak, 'what is she mute! Can she even scream!' Inches from her body, he growled looking down at her with his head cocked to the side. The heat between mostly by him, when his glove met the crook of her neck and his other hand touched her chin to roughly force her head up to look at him, she felt cold… cold as the dead. With rage in his eyes, he stared down at her, shouting, "Answer me, bitch!"

She didn't even flinch! "You bitch," he grumbled squeezing her jaw with one hand and pressing a blade dangerously close to her jugular, "damn you." He didn't want to kill her.

Eyes never leaving hers, he couldn't help but glare. She looked to be only in her early twenties. Maybe twenty-one. How did he get into her head, he couldn't help but wonder. It was rare for him to get anyone in their twenties, though not enough to be totally unusual. And then in a wave of sensation that sent a pain through his being he loathed beyond belief, he suddenly noticed her scent, enraging him further. It smelled like flowers, earth, fruit, and… "You." He snapped out of his mind shocked at the noise. "You," he heard again, a low, sultry, smooth as molasses voice came from those lush red lips he wanted to bite off. His bladed hand moved away from her neck, leaving a long line of red on her neck. Smirking he bowed his head, with a small hum of approval, allowing his long tongue to role out and trace the line roughly, finally making her flinch. Biting her skin, between his jagged teeth, her hands forcefully shoved him off her. Sending a harsh deafening laugh out that consumed the tiny thing, he looked at her playfully with a gleam of insanity swimming behind the fire in his eyes, "Aww can't take the heat." He moved back grabbing her wrist in his ungloved hand, feeling the softness of her supple skin against his own damaged shell.

"You and your, friends been talking of me in legends," he asked menacingly.

No reply.

"Well," he began shoving his face close to hers, "I'm real bitch."

No reply.

Their gaze intense, even from her, never broke for a second. As they breathed one another's air, letting their scents mingle together, until…

"No," her lips hardly moving the whisper from her being. "No," she repeated, with less fear, then anger, "No, I know you, Freddy."

He frowned throwing her wrist away and pushing her up against a boiler, Rage burning under his skin, as he radiated out his contempt for the little bitch. "You don't know me," he growled menacingly, his gloved hand scarping just beside her head sending her spinning.

Groaning she opened her eyes, glaring at him, and through staring breaths she toned, "I knew you." His head shot back away from hers as his grip tightened. He was disgusted by the cacophony of hate and pain she was forcing out of him.

"Don't you say that bitch," he shouted at her, pressing her further into the boiler. Steam formed around her, as the heat from it began to burn her perfect skin. Though, she stays hardly fazed, staring… just staring. His claws were ready to burst into the boiler he thought as he heard a soft groan of metal.

"Freddy," a chill moved up his spine as he raised his gloved hand above his head, ready to make her disappear, forever. The Bitch, how dare she… the damn bitch.

"Freddy, don't you remember me," she practically pleaded. Her voice was like a little child, begging, with a hint of hurt. A woman scorned. A deadly thing they used to say.

The hand came down, but she had sunk back into the metal long ago. His hand still pressed against the boiler, the gloved one hung limply at his side now. Breath ragged and heavy, he hung bowed over slightly, as if he were dead tired. It was if he had just run a marathon to get this girl, and he didn't even get her. With a sharp and hallowed clang his hand punched a dent into the metal as her cried out in rage. Shoulders hunched over as he moved away from the boiler, he stared tentatively at where she should have been. He could still see her eyes, those damn green eyes, they wouldn't leave, they wouldn't disappear, they stayed staring at him, waiting, longing, needing, hurt, angry…

Bighting his lip, his hand went flying against the boiler, sending four long gashes along it with bright sparks fallowing in its wake. His cry ringing out through the cavernous dead zone. Hoping it would some how hit her, hoping she would hear him, hoping she would feel him.

"Bitch…"