Freddy wrapped his arms around his lover's waist and could instantly tell something was irritating her when she didn't give in to his advances immediately as she did on a regular basis. Her back was to him, looking out a window-like portal to the real world shaped much like the window in the attic of her old home that she often gazed through as a child. She couldn't quite understand being dead, bound to the things significant to her in life, this window, the dagger used to kill herself, the wedding dress she died in, even her old bear Damien.
He looked over her shoulder through the window at a man creeping through the boiler room where their bodies lay, creeping around it in the middle of the night with a flashlight. His light landed on the charred remains of Freddy and the rapidly decaying remains of Lily. She cringed at the sight of her corpse, sunken in with bits of her insides showing, skin greenish-brown, hair dry and dirty and maggots squirming around her flesh. How lucky she was that she'd died pretty. She watched him walk to her corpse and stoop. She could tell that he was certainly not a coroner. Anyone could have told – especially three weeks ago – how she'd died, the giant slashes on her wrists a dead (no pun intended) giveaway, and everyone in the town of Springwood had heard of the "Demented Lover." He shuddered before picking up her left hand and wriggled the engagement ring off of her slender finger. Lily went rigid with a quiet fury that was only seen in her posture: too stiff, too prim, too queenly. And Queen Lily was not to be vexed.
It became a good/bad situation for Freddy. Good: Freddy loved Lily especially in one of her moods, murderous and passionate and overall his favorite combination. Bad: Her attention was diverted from him and what could've been some serious lovin'.
"Want me to take care of him?" He muttered in her ear, an action that usually had her wrapped around him; however, she remained still, rigid as ever and silent for the next passing moments as she watched him return home to his lover and propose with her ring. She wasn't about to take such disrespect for her remains – however grotesque – and previous life – whether it led to Hell or not – lying down. She turned to Freddy and smiled before kissing him passionately, giddy at the thought of what was to come.
"I will handle this." This was new to Freddy, her want for vengeance for something other than his death, and it was, oddly enough, alluring.
Late into the night, the thief lay in bed next to his fiancée, unaware of the hand fate would deal him in consequence of his thievery. He tossed and turned in his sleep, haunted by images of the girl everyone found dead next to Fred Krueger's remains weeks ago tormenting and dismembering his wife-to-be. He awoke and ran a hand down his face. Feeling wetness entirely too thick to just be sweat caking to his face, he lifted his hand to see blood. Looking up past it, he noticed the word thief painted across the ceiling in crimson. Sensing a presence not belonging to his lover or anything that felt of this world he turned to the woman next to him to see the sheets drenched with the blood seeping from his lover's dismembered arm. Screaming, he backed off of the bed, falling to the floor and backing up to the wall. Looking into a dark corner he noticed a silhouette. He wasn't about to stick around with a psycho in his room and leaped onto the bed, scrambling across to the door on the other side of the room. He raced down the hallway to the bathroom to hide only find his lovers head lying in the sink. He threw up next to the sink, clutching the edge to steady is weak legs. The shower water turned on and the silhouette from before could be seen behind the shower curtain. He ran from the bathroom and half way down the stairs before tripping on an arm. He tumbled down feeling something snap and bend the wrong way. He limped to the kitchen, finding a leg tied to a string and dangling in the middle of the room from the ceiling. The pantry door shook violently as if something were trying to break free. The chase had only begun five minutes ago, but already his sanity had been driven away.
Neighbors, having heard the screams next door, called the police. Being the only person in the house at the time the thief's lover was found dead, he was automatically taken to jail. He rocked back and forth in his jail cell, happy to be away from it, whatever "it" was. As he lay down on the bed to find sleep he became tormented of the dreams of Freddy's lover. He shot up in his bed, darkness surrounding him. He looked around, nothing there. He sighed and put his head in his hands, shaking his head back and forth. He did another sweep of the room still nothing there. He lay back and closed his eyes trying to fall back asleep. It was easier said than done. Everywhere he looked he saw nothing and yet the song seemed to emanate from everywhere around him. Dun-dun-dundun dun- dun-dundun. A wedding march sung by a lone female voice. He ducked under his covers, willing the song away. Finally, it faded into an eerie silence. He opened his eyes, still under the covers, to look into the eyes of Freddy's lover. Before he could scream her dagger met his throat.
Lily stepped back into the dream world, her business taken care of, and into Freddy's presence where he'd been watching her.
"Damn," he said looking at her with a higher level respect than he had before, more as a killer than a demented bitch he liked to screw around with, "You're good."
"I know," she said flirtatiously, as the scene around them changed into a bedroom, showing she was more than ready for what was to come next.