Kristen Parker and the Attack of the Mary-Sues
NOES and all recognisable characters belong to Wes Craven and NewLine Cinema.
Vogue Magazine (US) belongs to Conde Naste Publications.
Sounds like humour, but isn't really, just a bit of fun for me. It's a big can of Krueger whoop-ass on the 'Mary-Sues' of Springwood. Brace yourselves people 'cos Krueger is pissed and ends up calling on a certain Kristen Parker for help.
AU/OOC
*STRONG LANGUAGE*
Kristen Parker sat in her Mother's pristine lounge in their five-bedroom house on Elm Street. It was past 7pm and she was mildly irritated the phone had not rung once, usually by this time at least one horny jock had called to ask her out to the Rialto for a date night. Her irritation was mixed with an unsettled feeling; a lot of the kids at school had taken to looking preoccupied lately. Some of them also looking like they needed to catch up on a lot of sleep. "Dark circles are sooo not a good look," Kristen muttered as she absent mindedly flicked through her Mom's dog-eared issue of Vogue.
Kristen was the kind of girl to find solace in the glossy pages; a blond-haired, blue-eyed cheerleader who could high kick and turn cartwheels with the best of them. Her pretty blond head had swelled as she noted Estelle LeFevre pouting from the magazine cover. Blond hair, check. Blue eyes, check. That could be me. Kristen was pretty, and boy did she know it. The teenager was sought after and envied at Springwood High; sought after by the Jocks for a fumble at the back of the cinema, envied by the teenagers who didn't have her Mother's alimony allowance and neglectful nature. In short, Kristen was never short of money, dates or the ability to do much of what she wanted, when she wanted.
Unfortunately, due to being spoiled by her Mother to compensate for her lack of presence in her daughter's life, Kristen Parker was close to following in her Mother's footsteps of having a gold AMEX in place of where her heart should have been.
Still, what remained of the spoiled, young cheerleader's heart managed to leap a little as the telephone finally rang.
xxx
Meanwhile, in the dark, hellish dreamscape, the Dream Demon known as Freddy Krueger seethed. Yet another young female in Springwood had become infatuated with him, nay, had fallen in love with him. The mixed emotions of devotion and love rolled off of her in waves, causing his horrifically scarred skin to crawl. They dared to believe that he, the sadist who had brutally slaughtered over twenty Springwood children, could return that love, saving them from their mundane lives and promoting them to Queen of the underworld.
Fred Kruger didn't understand the notions of love. Fred Kruger was a sociopath, unable to process empathy towards anyone. The only emotions flowing through his filthy veins were pure, un-adulterated hatred, malice and anger. If only those stupid bitches knew what would happen should I ever come into their room at night. They'd be gutted like the pigs they are and strung up by their slicked, dripping insides. Their rampant daydreaming left him dry-heaving, quite often bringing him to the point where he violently brought up vile green chunks from where his stomach used to be. All these... these, 'Mary-fucking-Sues', filling their notebooks and their heads with fantastical-fucking-nonsense. It was then he pulled up short and his ranting paused for a second.
Their daydreams...
One Springwood resident had caught his attention in the past few months, a blond bitch that could pull people into her level of subconscious when it reached a deep enough level. Krueger had observed with interest as her daydream of a former classmate had reached such a peak that the unsuspecting boy was pulled from consciousness and into her daydream. The gormless fucker had then fallen forward, splitting his head on the desk and jolting them both back into reality.
It was then Krueger had begun to follow the girl, track her when her subconscious reached that perfect level that allowed others, and most importantly him, in. He and Kristen had met once before in her nightmares and she, to his frustration, had dismissed him as a result of too much cheap vodka from a Saturday night house-party.
What a cunt.
His wounded ego had recovered slightly as he realised the link between this blond bitch and him ending this Mary-Sue infestation. The Mary-Sues didn't fear him, therefore he couldn't touch them. However if Kristen Parker dragged them into her dream whilst she herself was in a state of fear then that was his ticket to issue some slicing and dicing. A chance to distribute some punishment that was long overdue.
He growled in anticipation before retreating into the shadows of the dreamscape like a serpent coils back into the darkness, waiting for nightfall.
Waiting for dreams.
xxx
What she had seen of the film had been so-so and the company had been even worse. Kristen had been so looking forward to her date with Ben Schneider, a quarterback for the Springwood Panthers, but the boy had been distracted, his mind elsewhere. All attempts, both vocal and tactile, to bring him out of his shell had failed causing the frustrated teenager to slump back into her chair and give Tom Selleck her full attention. Whenever she darted her eyes off-screen to her left, she found Ben either gazing down at the chair in front or shredding popcorn to itty bits with his long, tanned fingers. He jolted every time a high pitched noise came from the screen. This constant fidgeting began to seriously grate on Kristen's nerves till she gave up and walked out an hour into the film. She found herself not giving a shit what happened to those three assholes, or their damn baby. She walked out into the night and into a waiting cab.
The black cab dropped her off at her home and as she walked in the front door she was greeted by sound of the telephone ringing. Her Mother was out, yet again, and there was no way she was giving Ben the satisfaction of her answering his call. Let him stew over the weekend and figure out how he was going to start grovelling in homeroom in the morning.
With that, Kristen retired to her bath to lose herself once more in the lavish pages of Vogue.
xxx
Ben Schneider was a wreck.
After pulling up in his Mother's driveway, the brake had slipped causing an ear-splitting SCREEEE! to ring out over the neighbourhood. This had broken the fragile reserve which had been holding him together and he had slumped over the steering wheel in tears.
His Mother blamed his recent 'emotions' on his Father's bizarre death two years before, claiming that he must have been repressing his feelings and she was now in the process of making Ben a series of appointments with Dr. Neil Gordon, a doctor who specialised in Adolescent Psychology. Ben privately thought his Mother was full of shit and was picking up too much psycho-babble from her own therapist, Dr Simms. His Mother's therapy sessions at Springwood General Hospital had began after his Father's death and her subsequent discovery of what he was really up to when he said he was 'working late' at the school.
Working late? Dressing up in leather and getting S&M fucked in the showers, more like.
Ben knew what it was that was bothering him, but Ben wasn't telling. It was his dreams, they were kicking his ass. He couldn't face another nightmare tonight, not another one.
He turned his drawn, pale face back into the steering wheel and began to sob once more.
xxx
Kristen had fallen asleep in the tub, fortunately for her the bathtub she was lounging in had a headrest fitted to the far end.
Unfortunately for her she was now in the Dreamscape of Freddy Krueger.
Both she and Ben sat once again in the cinema, only this time the images on screen were different. Blurry, with the people talking as if they were underwater. Looking over she noticed Ben was once again looking down, his attention absorbed in the popcorn bucket. GODDAMN IT! Kristen's temper finally snapped as she gave him a hard shove to his shoulder, "if you can't pay attention to me, at least pay attention to the screen, asshole!'
Her mouth opened in horror as the boy slumped forwards, his eyes plopping out into the popcorn tub, a flow of blood tricking down from the two now empty cavities in his skull. Her mouth began to open and close, a scream waiting to emerge stuck somewhere in her throat. The flow of blood sped up, over-filling the popcorn tub and cascading down to pool on the carpeted floor of the Rialto. Kristen inched her sneakers away from the gory puddle, her mouth still flapping, her face frozen in a state of shock. A hand with gnarled fingers grasped Kristen roughly by the shoulder. Looking round, she was confronted with the cinema usher, his throat slit, eyes rolling back in his head and a thick, black substance oozing from his mouth.
Her scream finally broke free.
"You're creating a disturbance, Miss. I'll have to ask you to sit still whilst I rip your fucking tongue out!'
Kristen ran.
The faster she tried to run, the more her path was cluttered with seats housing decaying corpses. Their hands reaching out to grab her, clawing at her hair and skin. Hissing vulgarities as she stumbled past, crying with fear and frustration. A rotting arm gave way, snapping off one of the groping cadavers and allowing her to break free and throw herself towards the exit. She barged through the swing doors only to be greeted by a Ben, or what now remained of him. The moving mass of shredded skin and protruding flesh lunged forward to pin her to the ground, his rotting tongue trying to find its way into her mouth. Angry at being denied entry it screeched in her face, spraying her with foul spittle "what's wrong Kristen, I thought this is what you wanted Princess?"
She howled again and jolted as she found herself in the bathroom of her Mother's house. Scrambling to get out of the tub, she slipped and fell onto the cold, tiled floor. Kristen lay there for a while, wrapped in her towel, trying to catch her breath. She didn't know how long she had lain there before she got up to get dressed. Opening the bathroom door she rushed out, eager to get into her pyjamas and her warm bed. Her blood ran cold as she stepped out instead onto the steel floor of Krueger's boiler room.
I'm still dreaming! She looked back and saw herself lying in the tub, mouth hanging open as she drooled slightly.
Her face screwed up as she encountered a strange feeling of déjà vu. The hissing pipes and rolling steam were vaguely familiar to her, so what happened next didn't give her the thrill of terror it should have. A shrill tremor of a sharp object being dragged over steel, a cold hand spinning her round, slamming her against the uncomfortably hot wall of the boiler room. The figure stooped a little, his twisted, scarred face leering into hers. The milky blue eyes bore into her as he pinned her further into the wall.
"What's wrong, Princess?" he asked in a mocking tone, 'not the man of your dreams you were expecting?"
"Who the fuck are you?" she gasped, disgusted by his melted features and mildly un-nerved by how real the pain felt where his blades were digging into her skin.
"You'll find out soon enough. I need you to do a favour for me," he released her to raise one of his blades to his chin, as if her were pondering something, "you remember that brown haired bitch in your school, the one with the yellow backpack?"
Kristen's brow furrowed again as she tried to visualise just who this freak was talking about. This was making absolutely no sense, but being a dream she figured she may as well play along. "Um, you mean Casey Carter? Yeah, she's in my art class, quiet and all..." she trailed off, not sure where he was going with this.
A thud followed by a small scream from the catwalk above her caused them both to look up. Krueger let out a low cackle before meeting her eyes once more, "Thanks. I'll be seeing you again soon, bitch." With that he delivered a sharp blow to her abdomen which sent her sprawling to the steel floor and back into the waking world.
xxx
This was meant to be a one shot but grew into something bigger.
I don't particularly like this version of Kristen, but it fits in well with the storyline.
Hope you enjoyed, please review!
