Disclaimer: I don't own anything I shouldn't, except my characters and this story.

Ch. 1: Babysitting?

Some people say there is only heaven and hell. Others insist that there are realms between them, neither one nor the other. And even then, there are supposed endless loops of realm and rift and dimension spanning time and space. But when Marcel Evans fell asleep on a May night and woke up somewhere else entirely, she had no idea about any of this at all.

Marcel woke up, alone and confused. This wasn't her room. There was no computer, no bed, no senior keg party outside her window; hell, there were no windows, and no light. She dusted herself off of the… (Was it a floor?) and stumbled in the dark for a minute or two. Bumping into a supposed table, she groped its surface blindly for something, anything. Her hand clutched something that felt like a flashlight. Marcel turned it on in haste; and in return it shone upon the face of Freddy Kruger.

"AHHHHHH!" Marcel screamed wildly and scrambled backwards, bumping into something. She swung around, this time meeting the masked face of Jason Voorhees. Marcel was just about to scream again when a voice spoke.

"Oi! What's with all the screaming? Who forgot to turn on the damn lights?"

Lights finally flickered on overhead and Marcel blinked for a few minutes, adjusting. She turned, taking in what seemed to be a well furnished apartment. A person in a black hooded robe stood by the door, oddly familiar.

"Death?" asked Marcel. "Oh my god! Am I dead?! What happened?! I can't be dead! This has got to be a bad dream!"

"Marcel…" The girl was rambling on. "Marcel…" Death tried not to grit his teeth.

"Oh my god….whywhywhywhy…."

"Marcel, shut up!"

"Eeep…" Marcel was quiet.

Death cleared his throat. "Now that your little breakdown is over with, let me explain a few things. No, you are not dead. Yes, this is happening. And no, you don't have a choice, so shut up and sit down."

Marcel sat down quickly on a couch.

"And you Mr. Voorhees, you need to listen as well. Could you please stop choking Mr. Kruger before he loses consciousness and I have to repeat myself?"

Marcel turned around to find Jason holding Freddy high above the floor in a one-handed grip. His thumb sat under Freddy's chin, as if his head was nothing more than a bottle cap. Freddy cursed angrily, glaring at him all the while. Jason released his grip on Freddy, letting him fall to the ground.

"Grumble…stupid hockey puck…absolute retard…" Freddy dusted himself off. Noticing Marcel, he leered and sauntered over. "Ahh…I must be in heaven. You're not that cute, but I'll take what I can get…" Death cleared his throat again.

"Mr. Kruger, do you mind?"

Freddy snorted. "Yes, I mind. I don't know who you are buddy, but I suggest you go find your own bitch. This one's mine."

Death sighed and pointed a skeletal finger at Freddy. Stitches formed on his mouth, keeping him quiet. Death turned his attention back to Marcel.

"Now as I was saying, I need your help. You see, the slashers of our decade are losing notoriety. The people are forsaking them for mutated freaks and killers with a more "human" element. It sucks, I know. But to ease this transition, I've enlisted your help. You are to make sure Mr. Voorhees and Mr. Kruger, along with two others, behave properly and learn to get along with…you know…peace, honor, respect? Hell, I'll even take respective tolerance as a start."

Marcel said nothing. How was she supposed to baby-sit four serial killers who were probably going to murder her as soon as he left? Death continued on. "Now as soon as you're done, I'll send you home. Same time, date, place, all that. No worries."

"B-But…" Marcel stammered.

Death snapped his fingers suddenly. "Oh that's right! I almost forgot the rules. Can't leave without telling you those. Rule 1: No one dies here…"

Jason gave a snort.

"Yes, Mr. Voorhees, I do know that doesn't apply to you or your cohorts, but as I like to say, safety first! Rule 2: Mr. Kruger will lose the majority of his powers; also as a precaution…"

"Mmmphgruu!" Freddy screamed.

"Quit whining, Mr. Kruger. It's for your own good. Rule 3: This house extends as far as its backyard. Anyone caught trying to go further will be dealt with…somehow. If you need anything…" Death turned to Marcel. "Call." He handed her a cellphone and made his way to the door. "Have fun, kiddies!"

And as the door slowly shut, Marcel only wondered, "What the hell am I going to do?"

AN: Death is a very grumpy individual. What will Marcel do? And who are the two other slashers? R&R to find out!