Author's Note

(Feel Free To Skip This)

Many people have praised the "Nightmare on Elm Street" franchise as a wonderful series, and it has gained a somewhat cult following over the years. Upon my perusal of the story and the movies themselves, I was intrigued by the idea of a killer that murders through dreams and is recognized by the bone-chilling singing of a children's jump-rope tune. I always thought, however, that while the movies were entertaining, they were not acted as well as I had hoped, and there were moments where I thought the powers of Freddy Krueger needed to be clarified. The first scene that displays questionable power involves the murder of a young woman in the first movie where her body is thrown and tossed around the room and Freddy's razors create physical wounds on her skin. Now unless Freddy Krueger was also a town psychokinetic, I do not think he should be able to make her float or bleed in the real world without external forces in play. I always believed the character of Freddy to be more than just a spirit with superpowers that allow him to gut his victims in mid air, but rather a nightmare that subconsciously causes people to kill themselves through their own actions. Even the remake had the first victim slit his own throat instead of having Freddy's blades slash him. To this end, I felt it might make others happy (at least those that share this view) to see a story where this is so. I always believed that a strong story had to be about something the writer is passionate about and that if the right words are written, a story can bring one more meaning than they can imagine. And thus, I intend to have this story take you on a trip through my personal vision of Frederick Charles Krueger.

New chapters will be released within a week after each other.

A Nightmare on Elm Street:

The Sandman Awaits

Chapter 1

Hello, Nancy...

Nancy turned her eyes away from the steam spraying from the pipes and let her eyes focus ahead of her. "Where am I?" she wondered, and yet somehow she heard this very thought echo through the corridors of the cement boiler room. The air was close in this dark basement, and the only light emanated from the red emergency lights overhead. She tried strenuously to remember how exactly she got here, but it kept just out of her mind's reach. "Whatever the reason, I need to find my way out" she decided, taking her steps leisurely down the long hallway. The tepid air filled her lungs, almost making her felt sick, and she detected a strange smell. It was foul, like rancid meat and made her wonder where it could be coming from. However, something bored at her senses; an uneasiness, like she was being watched. Her heartbeat quickened as her pace continued to accelerate. She halted for a moment as her head turned to allow her eyes to scan the room. She saw nothing, yet she felt a pair of eyes burning holes in the back of her neck.. She simply could not shake this feeling from her head, yet she saw and heard nothing, other than the occasional whistling of the pressurized pipes or the dripping sound of water in the background.

"Nancy..."

Her name catapulted off the walls and through the hallway. As chills grew on her arms and neck she looked wildly about to find a sign of life anywhere, but still nothing could be found.

Then a whisper from the unforgiving darkness:

"What's your nightmare, Nancy?"

She could not stop herself; she ran like the Grim Reaper was following close behind. Her legs propelled her along the halls, but the voice followed as if it came from the walls around her. She could not bring herself to look over her shoulder, but instead kept on running without feeling the air pass her face. She did not know the way, but chose her path as she sprinted, dodging left around a corner and throwing herself along side paths, launching herself around each bend. She turned another corner, but this time there was something else there.

"One, two, Freddy's coming for you"

Three children slowly singing as they jumped rope. Nancy was about to ask them for help, but she felt her foot touch something. She looked down.

It was blood.

She screamed as she turned back to the children. All of them were bleeding from every part of their body. Large razor cuts bled through their dresses, but it was their eyes that truly scared Nancy.

Their eyes were missing.

"Three, four, better lock your door"

They sang on as Nancy plunged into terror and she ran the other way, but the song followed her like the dirge of her death.

"Five, six, grab a crucifix"

A sillhouette appeared on the wall at the end of the room. The pipes burst and Nancy felt blood spray from the broken pipes. Her screams couldn't come this time, but her legs kept moving.

"Seven, eight, better stay up late"

Nancy turned a corner and found herself at a dead end. She tried to calm herself down by listening intently to her heartbeat, but ultimately failed as it was impossible to ignore the noise that followed...

Footsteps.

She turned around and saw nothing but empty space down the corridor.

"Nine, ten, never sleep again."

She shook in fear as the footsteps grew silent. Her heart was beating a thousand times a minute, it felt. She waited.

Silence.

Then, on her shoulder, she felt a hand grip her. HIS hand. Too terrified to move her legs, she turned her head slowly.

"Yes. It's me again Nancy."

The shadows covered his face, but she new who it was. He had come for her before. He was always there waiting. Always waiting to torture her. Always waiting in the black fires of hell. Waiting with his shapeless hat, red and green sweater, and his glove...

His bloody, razor-fitted glove.

"Always me."

She could not speak. She could not scream. She never even managed a whisper. It was his world. No one could escape him in his own world.

"Don't worry Nancy, it hurts for a while, but soon it will be your life. An eternity of pain for you and for me... I get the greatest present of all: I get to hear you scream in agony and beg for mercy forever!"

Then he smiled. It was a smile with no warmth, no mercy, and not a speck of compassion. It was the smile of an executioner.

He was not a man; he was evil-incarnate.

"It's not real!" she screamed in terror.

"I'm more than real!" he cackled in his deep, threatening tone.

His grin stretched from ear to ear as he tore his bladed fingers into her eyes.

Then she awoke.

Nancy's screams were amplified in the small space of her room. Her eyes ripped open, still feeling impaled by those gloved fingers of her Sandman. Her demon.

The lights flashed on and blinded Nancy. She stopped screaming and knew now that her tormentor was gone. At least for now.

"He can't follow me here."

Her parents ran to her side.

"You had another bad dream tonight, didn't you?" her Mom inquired.

"Yeah Mom," Nancy replied, "Just a really bad dream."

"Just a nightmare."