Saturday Night, an a nightmare on elm street fanfic

Author's Note: So, I've got a one-shot songfic. I'm not very partial to writing OR reading songfics, and they are my least favorite types of fanfiction. But I heard this song and I just couldn't help it myself. It's one of my most favorite songs. It's sometime after the end of the remake. So read and, most importantly, review!

Disclaimer: The song in the fic is "Saturday Night" by The Misfits. I do not own the song. Also I do not own Freddy Krueger or Nightmare on Elm Street, etc etc etc.

Saturday Night

There's fifty-two ways to murder anyone

One or two are the same, and they both work as well.

Knives glimmered in the light just before they plunged into yet another screaming girl. Teenage girls, their flesh pink and taut and fresh as a piggie for slaughter. He listened as their heartbeats drummed their mysterious songs against slight ribcages, bodies slim and hot with hormones, until the beats slowed and shuddered to a stop. He sighed almost sexually, the relief and high of another kill making him feel exhilerated. It made him think of the other kills.

I'm coming clean for Amy

Julie doesn't scream as well

and the cops won't listen all night.

Freddy watched as the blood-slicked young bodies vaporized into nothingness, disappearing from his realm. It was always a disappointment watching the girls - and occasionally, boys - go. Not a loneliness thing, but rather a lack of visual entertainment. But none of these soft, pliable little girls gave him the satisfaction he was looking for. Of course, it was never a bad thing having so many scared bitches popping in...

So maybe,

I'll be over

Just as soon as I fill them all in.

He reminisced over the fine selection of piggies he's acquired over the years; some much younger than others. All kinds of skin colors and textures, sometimes left in one piece, sometimes carved apart during more sinister acts. He liked to try new things. Often, though, he found himself remembering old things that he liked much, much better.

And I can remember when I saw her last;

we were running all around and having a blast, having a blast.

But the backseat of the drive-in is so lonely without you..

Nancy. He shuddered with obscene pleasure remembering her pale, deliciously frightened face. The one that got away, as the expression went. He sniggered to himself, knowing that he would see her again very soon. Watching her from afar was beginning to get tiresome.

I know when you're home,

I was thinking about you.

There was something I forgot to say

I was crying on a Saturday night.

It was true. He could see lots of things as they happened, pop in on people. He just couldn't act anything out in their world; and oh, the things he would act out with Nancy. He again imagined her face, lips trembling wet with fear. Her slim body underneath the clothing that he was so easily able to tear apart. The fabric of his pants strained in the crotch; he grunted as the warmth throbbed steadily in response to his thoughts.

I was out cruising without you,

they were playing our song.

Crying on a Saturday night.

He could feel it when he crossed her thoughts, as well. Those moments were the closest he'd been to her in a while. He could taste her fear like blood, metallic and bitter. He thought of the run-in so long ago at the supermarket, when that cocksucker Quentin had been trying to buy his pills. Freddy clenched his jaw and continued on to the better part; Nancy on the floor, crawling away from him. The song on the radio, so ironic and eerie.

He felt the strange tightness in the air, a static that crackled through his universe. Somebody stopping by. He glanced in the direction of the new presence, and stifled a gasp. She had come back to him. The bitch finally showed up.

As the moon becomes the nighttime,

you go viciously, quietly away.

He turned fully toward her, the silvery sound of his blades clinking together making her eyes catch him. Once again her soft features contorted in fear. He felt herheartbeat in the distance between them. "Freddy," she breathed. He caught her sweet girl breath on the air, breathed in it.

"Little Nancy," Freddy groaned. She backed up rapidly, running into a boiler. He advanced on her and pressed her arm against the hotness of its surface. She screamed, the sound combining exquisitely with the wet crackle of her flesh on the boiler. Freddy pulled violently at her pants. "I want to show you something real nice, Nancy. Real fucking nice."

I'm sitting in the bedroom

where we used to sit and smoke cigarettes;

now I'm watching, watching you die.

His blades lost control as he pumped his hips forward, over and over. Everything was wet; spit, sweat, blood. Her velvety little cunt. He sighed as he penetrated her abdomen with the blades. Blood stained him. He laughed to himself as he thought of the fact that he was fucking her with metal, as well. She gasped and screamed and her body jerked and writhed. God, it was too much. Sheer bloody excess.

It was everything he'd wanted from the beginning.