Disclaimer: I'm not Wes Craven. I'm not New Line Cinema. I'm just a German woman with a strange preference for a dead serial killer. Thus I do not own Freddy Krueger, Springwood, blabla… we all know this… I also do not own Chucky, Jason, Michael Meyers, Hannibal Lecter or any other maniac murderer.

Birthday Party

Freddy Krueger was in a bad temper. It was February, the 24th. His birthday. And there wasn't a soul to be seen. Not that he had expected a bunch of people coming for congratulation, at last he didn't have so many friends at all, but there wasn't even a little dreaming piggie to kill and have some fun with. So he was sitting on the rotten sofa in the old, shattered Elm Street house, watching TV for the whole day all alone. Of course, if anybody had asked him he would have said that he didn't care about his birthday, but the truth was he did. He wanted a party, he wanted a birthday cake with candles, he wanted balloons and he wanted some pals singing Happy Birthday, all this daffy stuff he never had when he was still alive.

"Sixty cable channels. Sixty times bullshit!", he murmured bored while zapping through the different TV programs. Suddenly the doorbell rang. He jumped up and walked hopeful to the door, opening it snappy. Then he saw who was outside, and all his anticipation vanished in one single second. It was a tall UPS-man, dressed in a brown uniform. He held a pad in one hand and a small parcel about one foot long and wrapped in plain paper in his other hand.

"Mr. Krueger? There's a package for you. If you would please sign the paper…" the UPS-man started and wanted to pass a pencil to Freddy. Then he noticed that Freddy wore his razor glove and stopped in his motion. Freddy though grabbed the delivery papers with his left hand and cut it in four long stripes with his blades.

"Signed. Now gimme that fucking package!" he sneered. The appalled UPS-man swallowed loud and handed out the parcel hastily. Freddy turned around and banged the door right in front of the man's face. Then, still standing in the front hall, he shook the parcel several times and listened to the bumping sound coming from inside.

"What the fuck is this?", he wondered loud. There was no sender written on the package, only his own address as the recipient. Impatiently he ripped the paper off with his blades and revealed an unimposing cardboard. Once again he shook the parcel before he poked it with one single blade. A high pitched scream came almost instantly from inside.

"Hey, what the fuck are you doing?"

A broad grin appeared on Freddy's face. This voice he knew all to well! With a cant he tore the cardboard apart and fetched out little Chucky, the possessed killer doll.

"Nice way to travel, pipsqueak.", said Freddy mockingly. Chucky gave him an angry look and pointed at his shirt which had a big whole in it.

"Yeah, quick and secure, at least I thought so. Look what you have done! Do you always poke in packages you receive?"

"No, sometimes I burn them in my boiler first.", replied Freddy and chuckled.

"Very funny, pizza-face, now let me down."

"As you wish."

Freddy dropped him without any further warning and turned around. Screaming again Chucky fell on the ground, making a hollow sound as he hit the floor. Swearing several curses Chucky stood up and tried to rearrange his clothes and his hair.

"Boy, if this is the way you treat all your guests it is no wonder that you are all alone on your birthday!"

The mention of his birthday made Freddy spun around.

"Who said that it's my birthday today?"

"Oh, c'mon. You know it, I know it, entire hell knows it. And even if not, you're in such a shitty temper one can only be on his birthday. But well, if it's just a mistake then I could go again…"

He scuttled towards the door, but Freddy barred his way.

"Wait. Okay, you're right, it's my fucking birthday. If you still knew it where's my birthday gift then?"

"Wait and see!", replied Chucky and grinned. Freddy gave a loud groan. Patience was not one of his strong points. Suddenly he heard some hushed noises coming from the living room, followed by some suppressed giggles and bumps.

"Did you hear that? What's going on there?", Freddy asked and made several steps toward the closed door of the living room.

"Hear? I hear nothing. Perhaps living in this house alone all the time cost you the rest of your little brain…", began Chucky, but Freddy interrupted him harshly: "Don't take me for a fool, Barbie. I know I heard something, and therefore I will go in there right now!"

"Okay, scarface, if you must you must. But don't complain about it later, if you go in there now!!!", said Chucky, almost screaming the last words as if to warn not just Freddy but somebody else. Freddy, though, didn't stop in his tracks, went to the door and opened it curiously.

TO BE CONTINUED…

******

Well, first part done. Hope you like it! Any comments or ideas for the sequel?

BTW, it was me who set Freddy's birthday on February, 24th (although I know there are several other dates currently known as his birthday). But the one in February came from me. Yep, no joke. Had the idea back in 1994, when I began to write my fanfic novel about Freddy's life (instead of learning for my Abitur, which is the German version of the High School diploma). I thought 24.2.42 would look nice as a birthday… ;-) I put a kind of personal data sheet of Freddy on my website (which still exists but is very outdated), and well, like things in WWW are, somebody copied my stuff and so it spread around.