So, this is my very first story on here. It's also my first NOES story. That means that it probably won't be very good, but I'll try my very best. If the character is slightly Mary Sue-ish in any way, I deeply apologize.

Chapter 1: New Nightmares

"So… Why do you want to apply to be the guidance counselor of Elm Street High?"

A female voice replied, "Well, I've always liked kids… Plus, I heard that your previous counselor quit-"

"Ahem! Yes, Mrs. Finkles had some… issues she was locking up. They bubbled up until she suffered from a nervous breakdown. Quite sad. She will be missed." Mr. Unklin pronounced. He was the principal of Elm St. High, Springwood, Ohio. In the female's gaze, he had to be at least forty, with his graying black hair and slightly sagging face.

"Oh, of course. It's just… I lived and worked a ways away from here. I thought maybe if I got to a different town, it would a nice change of pace." The woman stated.

This caused the principal to raise an eyebrow. This woman in front of him was not what he was expecting in the interview that afternoon. He had expected someone a bit older, perhaps chubbier. What sat in front of him was a woman, who couldn't be older than thirty-two, if even that old, with the slightly toned body of some sort of athlete.

She had reddish brown hair, with a little more red than brown, than swept past her shoulders. It complemented the brown eyes that currently gave a nervous and frightened stare. He remembered that it was the middle of October, as a loose jacket hung on her shoulders, a t-shirt visible. A noticeable cross lay on a necklace around her neck, the metal gleaming in the light of the lamp nearest her.

Mr. Unklin cleared his throat, "Ah, I see Mrs.-" He paused for a moment as he looked at the name on the application, "Emily Rosters? No relation to the Mrs. Rosters down here on Elm Street, I presume? Mabel didn't say anything about relatives coming…"

Emily looked shocked, "Uh, yes, sir. She's my grandmother. I'm staying with her for a while, until I get my own place." She had forgotten how tight-knit everyone in the town was with one another. They all probably knew who she was.

Skimming over the application again, the principal coughed, "Ms. Rosters… This says you were working at a place called, 'The Cat's Club'?"

Emily's face reddened, "Oh, sir, there is a logical explanation-"

"I'm going to be brief, Ms. Rosters, were you in any way a prostitute or stripper? We can't have that kind of person at our school…"

The blush had crept throughout her entire face, making her resemble a tomato.

"No, sir! I was a cabaret dancer. I wore some pretty tight costumes, but I never did something like that. You see, I took some of those online college classes for psychology in my spare hours, so I could get a job like this someday. Um, does that answer your question?"

The principal let out a sigh, "Normally, I wouldn't hire someone like you, who looks like she's never applied for a job before… But, we don't have any other applicants because nobody else wants this job. Before I employ you, though, I would like to ask a rather personal question…"

Emily's heart felt like it had stopped and she couldn't breath, "Yes, Mr. Unklin?"

"Well, on your application… It, well, it really doesn't give your age. If you wouldn't mind me asking… how old are you?" Mr. Unklin was curious, that and he needed the information to actually register her in the school records.

A sigh of relief escaped the woman, a smile growing on her face, "No problem, Mr. Unklin. You see, this next year will be my third annual 28th birthday, if you catch my drift. I'm not quite ready for the big 3-0 yet." A nervous laugh bubbled out of her lips.

Out of everything she said, that was what made the principal laugh, "Yes, I get what you mean. Trust me, the big 4-0 is just as hard. I'll just fill that in and we'll be done. I hope to see you early tomorrow morning." Emily nodded gratefully and left his office.

As she made her way outside, she noticed that the school was actually pretty small, not surprising since the town was so tiny in comparison to others. Connected to the main building was a smaller, shed-like building that was the guidance counselor's office. From that day on, that would be where Emily Roster would work during school days. All she could do was sigh heavily when she walked down the street to her grandmother's house.

That was going to be a nice thing about working at the school. The distance was so short she could walk every day. Pulling out her keys, she unlocked the door and stepped inside the house, only to see what looked like a laundry basket running right at her. It didn't take long before the basket ran and tackled her leg, making her fall backwards onto the porch.

"What the hell?" Emily yelled. The basket lay toppled upside down next to her, a small black creature jumping on her stomach. Its claws were extended and pricked her skin as it walked up her stomach to her chest. Yellow eyes gave off a mischievous glare. The mouth opened, fangs protruding.

A soft pink tongue began to lick her chin, causing a yelp, "Freddie! You stupid cat! Stop it! That… That actually tickles! C'mon, quit it, you crazy thing!" Picking the furry black cat by the scruff, Emily gave a disapproving glare, right before kissing 'Freddie' on the nose.

"You're getting better at sneaking up on me. The basket was a nice touch. Does Grandma know you took it?" Emily asked. Freddie simply opened his eyes wider, trying to look innocent.

She chuckled, "I'll take that as a no." As if on cue, Mrs. Mabel Rosters, Emily's grandmother, walked to the front door, her hands on her hips. Her eyes narrowed at the pair as she snatched up the laundry basket. Apparently she wanted to go to bed early, as she was dressed in her nightgown, her silver hair in two braids.

"That cat is the devil." She stated in a hoarse voice, the consequence of smoking for almost fifty years, "You and it will be the death of me." Emily noticed that her grandmother had no problem with the cat until she found out it's name was Freddie. Ever since then, she disliked the cat and the cat wasn't fond of her either.

When she got like that, it was best just to leave it alone. Emily got up off the ground, kissing her grandmother. She dropped Freddie, who promptly scurried back into the house and to where he usually scurried off to: Emily's room. Even moving into the new home the week or so earlier, Freddie quickly learned which room was hers so that he could lie in there whenever he felt like it.

The sun was beginning to go down outside and soon it would be night. Emily's grandmother quickly went to bed, and Emily herself walked to her room to find Freddie on top of the twin size bed, curling into one of the pillows. Sneaking over, Emily lay down next to him, picking up her current-favorite book, 'Dark Desires'. Although she would never admit it, she was an avid reader of Harlequin-type novels. She would probably stay up for most of the night just trying to finish that one.

Feet pounded against concrete ground. A girl of fifteen was running from something. Around her, she could only see metal pipes and metal walls. She was in some kind of boiler room. Behind her, a screeching noise of metal on metal echoed. A laugh seemed to be right in her ear, like he was right next to her.

Who was this man chasing her and why was it only when one was dreaming? Not many of his 'children' would find out before they died. To the ones to survive long enough to find out, he was Freddy Kruegar, master of nightmares. The girl didn't run for long when she ran into him, a trick on his part. His laughter increased by tenfold as he brought his glove down, a knife on each of the fingers, and the girl knew. She was never going to wake up.