I don't own Nightmare on Elm Street or any of its characters...

A Nightmare on Elm Street: Resurrection

Chapter One: Moving

The room was dimly lit. Slightly cold as well since the boiler was off. He was wearing the same clothes he'd pulled on the day before, thanks to the fact that the Springwood Police4 had taken his home. As well as his daughter. As she crossed his mind his pacing briefly stopped. She left his thoughts entirely when a strip of cloth on the floor caught his eye. That kid, he thought. He tossed it aside toward the furnace where That Kid's bones lay at final rest. He began pacing again, at the slow speed he was accustom to. He had no idea the parents of Springwood's children, victims and survivers, were crowding around the deserted factory he called his home. Outside one of his few windows, a man with deadly determination in his eyes lit a whiskey bottle on fire and threw it through the window...

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"Frank slow down. We will get there on time. It's not like they'll start without us. There's a State Trooper up there anyway. See him?" said Kathy.

"Yes I see him. I'm in the fast lane Honey. He's not gonna do shit. I just wanna get there so at least some of our unpacking can be done during the day. It's fuckin cold outside." replied an irritated Frank.

"I know it's cold out. It's called January. Just settle down."

"You don't wanna get there early because of the house. You're not fooling me. It's a nice house and it's free. Who gives a shit whether or not it was your father's? I certainly don't. The old man did us a favour by paying it off while he was alive."

"Don't talk about him. That bastard didn't do me any favours."

"He at least partly raised you. Regardless of...what he...um, became."

"Let's not talk about this. Please. You don't wanna get into this with me."

"Listen to me-"

"No Frank! I know we are having financial problems. I know this is a free house I've inherited from my dead bastard of a father. I know it's our only solution to having a home. Don't repeat all of this to me. I have a right to not want to be there. I'm not gonna change it though. So just shut up. End of discussion."

"Fine. Good to hear. Let's be nice to each other now. Okay?"

"Yes. I'm happy with that."

"When are your daughters comin up?"

"I don't know. Ask Jack."

Jack was their 16 year old son. He was in the backseat with music blaring into his ears from his headphones.

"Jack. JACK!" shouted Frank. Jack jumped out of his day dream and yanked a headphone out of his ear.

"What?" his voice nearly as rough as his father's replied.

"When are the girls comin up?"

"How the hell should I know? They're not even my full sisters."

"Jack they are your sisters." said Kathy.

"No Mom. You had them with another guy way before you met Dad. They aren't my full sisters."

"Look it doesn't matter. Never mind. Go back to your music." said Frank.

Frank and Kathy began speaking again and Jack put his headphone in and leaned against the window. The music faded out and he began to doze.

"Here we are Hun." said Frank. Kathy looked to their right as they passed the sign. A shiver went up her spine and she did her best to ignore it. The sign announced that they were 'Entering Springwood! A nice place to live!' .

As they passed the sign Jack wandered down the hallway and opened the door to the cellar. As he marched down the stairs he noticed how quite it was. When he reached the bottom of the steps he saw a man sitting at a desk under dim lighting. The man was making something. Working dilligently.

"Hello." said Jack.

The man turned. He had quite a resemblance to Jack. They had the same light green eyes and blond hair. Almost the same jaw as well, yet Jack had never seen this man before. The man's blond hair was nearly full gray now though. He was wearing black pants and a red and green sweater. When he saw Jack, he smiled. A friendly smile. A smile that made Jack feel comforted. At home.

"Hello Jack." his voice was somewhat rough, yet still soft.

"How do you know my name?" asked an astonished Jack.

The man smiled. Jack heard someone calling him from up the stairs. Before he could move he was roughly shook. He opened his eyes to his Mom in his face with her hands on his shoulders.

"Whatcha do that for?" he asked her groggily.

"We're here." she said. She didn't look very happy about it though. He got out and looked at their house. It was relatively nice. Still needed quite a bit of work though. The mailbox looked like it was nearly 60 years old yet was still firmly in the ground. It announced their house number. 1428.