1,2 Freddy's Coming for You

Nancy and Quentin believed it was over, that Freddy was gone... forever.

3,4 Better Lock Your Door

Nancy's mother, Gwen, being taken into the mirror may have been Nancy's mind playing tricks on her. But when it comes to the unconscious mind, a person can never sure as to what's real or what's fake.

5,6 Grab Your Crucifix

Insanity takes it's tole on those who refuse to sleep, this time capturing Nancy as it's prize. Quentin wants to believe that it was Freddy's doing, that he was back, but somehow knew the truth. Nancy had purposely overdosed on caffeine pills.

7,8 Better Stay Up Late

Serial killers inflict fear upon those out there who worry for their families and themselves. But when the killer feeds off of fear, no one is safe- not even in their dreams. Even the slightest bit of fear can bring the legendary Nightmare King back. After all, a legend can never truly die.

9, 10 Never Sleep Again

Quentin Smith made the mistake of falling asleep with a certain burn victim on the brain.

Freddy had him cornered, the both of them knew that. Quentin was in his world, there was nothing he could do to save himself. His fate was the same as the others; he would die in his sleep. Hoarse laughter filled the air as Quentin pressed himself against the bars at his back. Freddy turned the corner and ran his blades across the pipes, busting one and allowing the hot air inside to spill out.

"Found you," Freddy menacingly whispered watching as Quentin slid to the ground with his hands shaking.

"You killed her." Quentin spat out as Freddy stepped closer and ran one of his blades down the side of Quentin's face.

"I would've loved to kill little Nancy myself, but no- that was her own doing." Freddy allowed the blade to prick Quentin's skin. "Watching her bleed to death has been a goal of mine... but you'll have to do." Quentin shut his eyes, expecting the impact of Freddy's blades.

'God help me.' Quentin thought to himself.

"I'm not God, but still pretty sure I can be of some assistance." A feminine voice made Quentin's eyes snap open. A tall woman that Quentin knew well stood behind Freddy.

"Who the hell are you?" Freddy growled, twisted around to stare at the woman. She wore a torn white gown and no shoes, making Freddy believe she would've been an easy kill- seeing as a person can only run barefoot for so long.

"Someone who you should definitely be scared of." The lights flickered before shutting off completely. When they had turned back on Freddy was himself again, skin intact with no sign of burn marks, and they were at the playschool with fog surrounding them. "You abused children, Krueger. Hadn't you at least once thought of the consequences?" His head snapped towards the woman who now had Quentin behind her.

With the lighting difference she could be seen better. Her hair was a natural black color, reached mid-back, and remained tied up with a single red ribbon. The pale color of her lips made them blend in with her skin, and her silver eyes stayed narrowed from behind her dark lashes. She was truly gorgeous, that being in the way that a teenage boy found a young woman gorgeous: she was the embodiment of the perfect wet-dream. Which is how Quentin knew her, she was his dream girl. The one who went through his awkward years with him, never once leaving his dreams.

"You deserved to die." Her whisper haunted Freddy to the back of his mind. The papers on the floor spun around the room and images of little kids screaming passed in front of Freddy's eyes. His skin slowly started to burn once more. "I can send you back to Hell, Krueger. Remember that!" She shouted before grabbing Quentin's hand and disappearing, leaving Freddy screaming at the memories.

Quentin recognized the room they had arrived in to be his bedroom. Everything was white and stood out brightly. He glanced back at the young woman and fought back an awkward smile. She ran her hand over his cheek, seeing Freddy's handy work. He shrugged her off and sat on his bed while she stayed in front of him.

"He's not going to bother you anymore, Quentin." The voice that normally got him hard now gave him comfort. "God will not let his actions go without being punished." She pat his shoulder and smiled down at him. She turned to leave but he grabbed her arm, twisting her back around. He stood and stared her in the eye.

"What are you?" His voice cracked as he asked the question.

"Your protector. You created me to get rid of the nightmares when you were younger." He looked at her warily, not believing she could protect every dream of his. She sighed and pressed her lips against his. Unlike the dreams in the past, Quentin could actually feel her lips; they were soft and molded against his own. When they broke apart, she placed something in his hand and whispered, "wake up, Quentin."

Quentin opened his eyes to see his father standing above him with a worried look on his face. He sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, a pain shooting through his face shortly afterward. He had almost forgotten about the cut on his cheek.

"What happened, son?" Alan asked, turning Quentin's face to examine the mark.

"Must've scratched myself in my sleep." Quentin answered in a mumble. His father nodded and cleared his throat.

"Well we're going over to meet the new neighbors, so get up and get dressed." Quentin didn't want to go but nodded anyway. When his father left the room, Quentin opened his hand to see a red ribbon in his hand. The red ribbon from the woman's hair. If he could take the ribbon out with him, is it possible that he could do the same and take her out of the dream world?

Quentin walked with his father over to the neighbor's house and watched as his father knocked on the door. A blonde woman answered and smiled, introducing herself and shaking both of their hands.

"Liv, sweetie," the blonde called into the house. "Come down and meet the neighbors."

"Okay, mom." Quentin's head shot up. That voice, it had to have been her. There was no way it couldn't be. Footsteps were heard before the young woman stepped into view. It was her, there was no doubt about it.

"Honey, this is Alan and his son Quentin. This, is my daughter Liv." The woman introduced her daughter proudly, but Quentin and Liv never broke eye contact.

"Liv? Is that short for anything?" Alan asked, not noticing the look between the two teenagers.

"Uh, no. Liv's father wanted to name her Liv because it means protector in old Norse." A wicked smile crept onto Liv's face as she watched Quentin's eyes widen. Liv raised her eyebrows as Quentin gulped, and then smirked in victory.

His savior was real.