The blood poured out onto the floor like a never ending river of red. I sank to my knees feeling it ooze through my fingers. He had won. The burnt shadow of a man that had killed me just sneered as I bled. But before he walked away to leave me there for good he smirked and said…
God writers block was getting me pissed! This story was due tomorrow and if I didn't finish it, my English teacher was going to kill me! I put my pencil down on my desk for a moment and lifted up my hands to my cheeks. They were burning; I had a fever all night. I turned to the electrical clock on my bedside dresser that was emitting a very faint, red glow from its neon numbers shedding the only light that split the dark chamber that was my room. I couldn't turn on any lights; my dad would get pissed if he knew I was up this late.
It was 11:37. I turned back to my unfinished paper and then to my neatly made bed. It seemed to beckon me to come, to lie down and relax, to sleep. I was already in my pajamas and was really tired. But I knew I wouldn't, I couldn't go to sleep, I had not taken the pills that kept me from dreaming and was afraid of what would happen if I did. But I was so curious about why everyone had to take the pills in the first place. I was 16, but my mother said I was too young to know why. It seemed like I was the only person in Springwood that didn't know!
My eyelids got heavier and I could barely keep them open anymore. I got up from the hard chair I had been sitting on for the past 3 hours and headed for my nice, soft, comforting bed. I climbed under the covers so exhausted that I could barely even manage to pull them over me. I closed my eyes, not really caring whether I dreamt or not anymore, I needed to rest. I could finish the story in the morning.
Suddenly, a loud hiss sent me swirling into my body once more as I sat up and looked around the place I was in. The walls were lined with thick pipes that gleamed in the red flashing light that came from around a corner. The walls themselves were damp and made of cement. The whole hall I was in had an eerie and dark tone to it, almost like in a horror movie, and if anyone would know about it, I would. Oh, I loved scary movies almost as much as I loved my parents. I had seen almost every single one twice, and I still wasn't scared. I didn't scare easily at all and I was used to about anything that someone could do to surprise you because of my idiotic older brother Jake that was always trying freak me out.
"Hello?" I called out into the empty hall. My voice echoed off the walls and there was no reply. I stood up and began walking cautiously down the hall.
"If this is your' idea of a joke Jake, it's not funny!" I yelled. I jumped back a little as one of the pipes hissed in front of me and spat out steam, blocking my view. I waved my hand in front of me and the smoke cleared. At the end of the hall a man stood with his head cocked to one side smiling at me. His face was terribly scarred and burnt and his teeth were stained yellow and black. He was wearing an age-beaten, brown fedora and a frayed red and green striped sweater. On his right hand was a razor-clawed glove that would send anyone running in terror, except for me, I thought it was kind of neat. His gruesome grin sent chills down my spine as he took a step towards me.
"I can assure you, I ain't no joke!" He said in a deep voice. My heart began to race in my chest as I tried to gather an explanation for why he looked like that and what he was. Then it hit me, this wasn't real.
"Nice make up dude," I retorted with a smile, "How much did my brother pay you, 20 bucks? 30?" I walked up closer to him, admiring the intricate patterns of welts and burns on his face from about a foot away.
"Sorry to put a damper on things bitch, but I work for free!" He raised his glove with the knifes glittering in the red light, ready to slice me with his blades at any moment, but something made him hesitate. It might have been because I was still smiling.
"His teeth are black,
Flex metal knuckles with a crack,
Maggots crawling all throughout his skin.
He'll get them all,
Everyone will here his call,
When razors grip beneath their chin," I sang out of the blue.
He looked taken aback for a moment and then said, "You may have some tricks up your sleeve, but I have some too!"
He held his arms out in front of him with his palms up and maggots, cockroaches, and all sorts of other bugs began to crawl out of his sleeve and drop to the floor. He began to laugh manically as I tried to step on them all with my bare feet. They just kept coming; an endless stream of them flowed out of his sleeves like rapids until the floor had disappeared under they're writhing mass. They crawled all over my feet and began to squirm up my legs as their pile began to grow higher and higher, the source not only the man's sleeves now, but they were also dropping from the ceiling. I screamed and closed my eyes, terrified for the first time in my life as I felt them crawl all over me. They were in my hair, beneath my shirt, everywhere!
I opened my eyes and saw a giant plastic cockroach waving back and forth in front of my face in the morning light as I was still screaming. I shut my mouth and swatted the toy out of the hands of my brother who looked down at me smiling.
"I finally got you!" He said standing straight up in triumph and running his hands through his long dirty-blonde hair. He, like me, was blessed with a thin body, good looks, and blue eyes. I rolled my eyes and replied, "You didn't get me, it was my nightmare you dork!"
He looked at me surprised. "You had a dream?"
"Ya, I didn't take the pills last night and it was terrible!" I was still trying to shake the feeling of the bugs wriggling all over me. He sat down next to me and asked, "What happened? How did it feel to dream?"
"I think we should discuss this over breakfast, when mom and dad are here," I said as I threw the covers open and got out of bed. He got of my bed and walked out of my room shutting the door behind him.
I couldn't get the man's face out of my head as I got dressed and went downstairs to have breakfast with my family. I sat at the end of the table and all eyes were on me as I fixed myself a plate of eggs and bacon. I was always the odd one out when I was with my family. My dad and mom were always dressed really nice and my brother was a baseball jock, so that would leave me to be the perfect daughter right? But I wasn't, I was obsessed with horror movies, and always wore band shirts and my brown hair was short and choppy and only hung down to my shoulders.
"So Sierra, your brother told us that you forgot to take your pills last night," my mother ventured.
"Ya, and I dreamt."
"What happened?" my dad asked.
I picked at my breakfast remembering all the bugs and my appetite vanished. "Well I found myself in like this really dark hallway with pipes on the walls."
My parent's eyes clouded with worry as I described exactly what happened and my brother just looked really excited.
"Then I woke up with Jake swinging a plastic cockroach in front of face!" I finished glaring at my brother.
"So this burnt guy is the one who scared you? I got to meet him sometime!" he said teasingly.
"Don't talk like that!" My mother snapped. My parents looked at each other with looks of anxiety and fear and then back at me.
"Honey, I think it's time for you to know why we take the medication," my dad said calmly. My brother looked at them and then got up and walked out of the room before they even asked him to.
"There was a very bad man named Fred Krueger," My mother started, "He raped and killed a bunch of little kids and all of the concerned parents like us, hunted him down and burned him to death." I looked at them with a look of disgust. How could they do something like that?
My father took over and continued, "But he came back in our dreams and began killing all the kids on Elm Street, so we take it to repress our dreams so he won't hurt us."
I couldn't believe them! They killed someone! I got up from the table and up to my room to get my backpack. My parents were murderers. They didn't even give him a second chance! What if I killed someone, would they kill me too?
I stormed in my room and then my unfinished English paper caught my eye. I went over and sat down on my chair, staring at the place where I had stopped. I picked up my pencil and wrote down, "It was your' own fault." The End.
It was simple, but it would do. I shoved it in my backpack and then rushed down the stairs and out of the house before my parents had the chance to say goodbye. I walked past house after house on my way to school, with the morning air refreshing my senses and making me relax a little bit. So I had met a dead murderer and survived, I bet none of my friends could say that! Oh I was going to have one hell of a story to tell them!
When I reached Springwood High I went straight to my first period class and sat down in the front row right across from the whiteboard. My teacher who was in his mid-twenties and was quite good looking, was sitting at his desk typing something on his computer screen. The screen reflected white light off his glasses.
"Mr. Adams, I finished my story," I said waiting for his response.
"It's about time," he replied looking up from the computer screen for a moment to meet my gaze before looking back at his computer. He didn't sound very enthusiastic, he never was. I crossed my arms on my desk and buried my head in my sleeves. Despite the fact that I had slept, I was still tired. It was probably all my screaming.
I breathed in the familiar scent of my perfume and then heard an ear-splitting sound coming from in front of me. It sounded like someone scraping nails on a chalkboard! I sat up and covered my ears with my hands as saw where it came from. The man that had been in my last dream, Fred Krueger, was scraping his blades across the whiteboard making the terrible sound.
He smiled at me horrifically with his nasty teeth again as he took a step away from the board and towards the front of my desk. I took my hands off my ears and pushed myself away from the desk until my chair hit the front of the desk behind me, my eyes wide in fear. He climbed on top of my desk and kept smiling at me, it seemed like he was enjoying my fear.
