It has been three years since the dream killer had been proclaimed dead. Life on Elm Street became peaceful and as normal as life on Elm Street could possibly get. Today, the day of April Fools, it was pouring rain and the sun refused to shine. The low whine of a motorcycle could be heard throughout Springwood High. Spike Rawfield sauntered into the school, smoothing back his gelled jet-black hair.
"Hey baby," Spike said as his girlfriend, Amber Regeurk ran up to him and slung her arms around his neck. "Your dad's gonna kill you if he finds out you were late for school again!" Amber warned him, playing stern with a wag of her finger.
"Yeah, and you know it, but I won't tell if you don't," Spike leaned in and kissed her on her forehead.
"Oh, leave me be! I've got to get to French class."
"See you after school babe. I bet you'll be in pure torture until then!" Spike joked, wearing his ever-present flirtatious smile on his face.
"Don't flatter yourself, Rawfield. I've gotta go." Amber pushed him jokingly and walked down the hall to class.
"See ya later!" Spike called after her. Of course, he should have been heading to class, seeing he was already late. Instead, he slipped into his secret hideout-which was actually only an old, abandoned janitor's closet- and relaxed himself into a big bean bag chair, falling instantly into a deep sleep.
"Where am I?" Spike asked himself. He was in a dark place, far from the school. It wasn't raining anymore, but the smokey clouds above made everything seem black and white. Thre was a dreary hill, and at the top was an ancient house; it's windows old and faded, the door swinging open invitingly in the wind.
Against his better judgement, Spike slowly ascended towards the waiting house. As he entered the house, a red tricycle crashed through the ceiling, nearly crushing Spike. He carefully stepped around the bike and peered up through the gaping hole in the ceiling. Spike jumped as high as he could and grabbed hold to the ceiling, pulling himself up carefully into the room above.
A quick survey of the room told him he was in deep danger. The floor was covered in rotting bones- human bones. There was a huge, rusty boiler in the far end of the room. A little blonde girl was standing in front of the boiler door.
"One, two, Freddy's coming for you," she sang softly.
"Hey, little girl. You shouldn't be in a place like this!" Spike said, looking the girl up and down.
"Three, four, better lock your door,"
"Where are your parents?" Spike wondered, a strange feeling dawning on him.
"Five, six, grab your crucifix," she continued grimly.
"We should leave!" he decided.
"Seven, eight, stay up late,"
"Come on, we're getting out of here." Spike took a step forward.
"Nine, ten, never sleep aga-" Suddenly, the boiler door flew open, and the little girl was sucked in, her shrill scream echoing the room.
"No!" cried Spike, rushing towards the boiler. He grasped the edges hastily, burning his hands on impact. The pipes were boiling hot.
Spike awoke with a gasp. "Ow!" He cried suddenly. He rushed over to the old sink and soaked his hands under the cool water. He stared at his hands for what seemed like forever for Spike. They were severely burnt.
That's the end of Chapter one! Did ya like it? Please review it. Nothing makes a writer happier than to know their work is appreciated! Chapter 2 should be out soon! ~Trina~