Proulouge

1966, Springwood Ohio.

Her blood was dripping off his blades. But he didn't mind. He placed his glove on the furnace, and sat down at the table. He pulled out his wallet, taking out a photo of her. The scrapbook lay open on the table, and he licked the photo, as though his spit were an adhesive. He lay the picture on the blank page. Chuckling to himself as he did so.

His chuckling turned into laughter. Maniacal laughter, echoing through the boiler room. It seemed to never end. He laughed harder, until his sides ached. He stopped, gasping a little, then took a deep breathe, inhaling the smoke from the cigarette, which sat in his mouth. Which curled into a deep smile.

He flipped the pages of the scrapbook. Pictures of different children covered at least ten pages. Finally, was a newspaper.

ELM STREET FAVORITE HAUNT FOR CHILD ABDUCTOR

He started to laugh again, as he flipped faster and faster. All of the headlines saying the same thing. The cigarette fell out of his mouth, landing on the cold floor. Smoke rised up from the tip. He didn't care. He laughed and laughed, as though he were a patient in Westin Hills.

The sound of glass breaking broke his laughter. He turned swiftly, to see a cocktail bottle, stuffed with paper in flames, lying on the floor. Outside, was a mob of angry adults. Parents.

"You sick FUCK!" Another bottle flew through the air, landing near his feet. He jumped back, and noticed the fire was spreading. The papers were dipped in gasoline. The fire began to spread. He backed up, away from the flames. They seemed to chase him, as though it were a game of tag.

He watched in horror, as another bottle flew through the broken window, landing near the cigarette. Flames burst forth, crawling up his pant leg. He screamed as his flesh began to bubble. It crept up his chest, as he took off his jacket, revealing his striped Christmas sweater his wife had given him two years ago.

The parents stood outside, proud, and horrified at the same time. They heard his screamed, imagining the pain. But he deserved it all.

He took a hand too his burning face, clawing at his skin. Stretching it out, tearing a hole in his cheek. Scaring it. He grabbed his hair, and ripped it. It seemed the pull a melted layer of skin off, Like cheese off a pizza.

His screams turned into that horrible laughter. The parents stood outside, listening. "You fools," He laughed, "Your only making it worse! I'm free!" He laughed more. "Jesus damned." A father said, watching as he came to the window, revealing his condition. One women vomited at the site. His flesh was dripping off his face, his remaining hair on flames. "You win this time fuckers." He said, as he fell to the ground.

The air smelled of roasted flesh and seemed to surround the alleyway. Couples watched as a few of the fathers and police put the fire out. Officer Hobbes looked up at the crowd.

"What happened tonight, is to never be mentioned, ever again! We shall never name any children after him. We shall never mention him ever! All of you understand?"

Few nodded. Others seemed sick. A few even cried.

"Don't think of it as murder." Hobbes said, glancing to the window, "Think of it, as justice."

"I can't believe you even bought the place." Charles said to Don, who finished off his third beer. "I get the chills just looking at the place." "Chuck, I know. It's really sick what he did. But that bastard is dead." Don said. "Besides, it's like we are starting over." "I still think it's a terrible idea." Charles said, sighing. Don pat his shoulder sympathetically, sighing himself. "he's dead. He can't hurt us anymore."

ELM STREET MURDERS

In the past week, we have attended four funerals. For Tina Gray who was brutally slashed, blood smeared on the walls, and guts ripped out. Rod Lane, who was said to have murdered Tina and then committed suicide while jailed. Glen Lantz, who was somehow dragged into his bed, blood spewing onto the ceiling. And Mage Thompson, wife of Lt. Don Thompson. Mother of the only survivor, Nancy Thompson. Information on who the murderer was is classified. All we know, is the nightmare is finally over.

Bloody Party on Elm Street

On Elm Street, where murders took place a five years ago, over twenty teens were brutally burned, slashed, and killed. At 1428 Elm Street, home of the Walshes, A young boy, Jesse Waslsh, claims to have run off, killing Ron Grady. Then, visting his girlfriend, Lisa Webber, a man apparently attacked her and the teenagers at her pool party. It is said that Jesse, Lisa, Ron, and several others, are having a memorial in the Springwood Cemetary today. All we hope is, that this will never happen again.

Westin Hills Murder

Up at Westin Hills Insane Asylum, another batch of kids was murdered. The only survivors, Kristen Parker, Roland Kincaid, and Joey Patterson, are being interrogated. The bodies of, Dr. Niel Gordon, Jennifer Claufiled, Taryn White, Will Stanton, and Phillip Anderson, along with Lt. Don Thompson, father of Nancy Thompson, the survior of the murders eleven years ago, were also found. Is it the same killer from the other murders, or someone else? We won't know, but we have a feeling this isn't over.

Death In Springwood

Kristen Parker, Roland Kincaid, and Joey Patterson, survivors of the murders at Westin Hills, we found ead. Along wit the bodies of Debbie Stevens, Rick Johnson, and Shiela Copecky. Nobody Knows who the murderer was, but have suspicions it is the same person from the pervious murders.

Another Batch of Deaths

Dan Jordan, Greta Gibson, and Mary Gray, we're all found dead this week. No one knows who killed them, but their friends, Yvonne Specter and Alice Johnson, from the previous murders, we're have said to have left town with Alice's son and father. They wouldn't speak to us about the murders. Neither will police.

Springwood is CURSED

There are no more children left, the only one has been found dead. Names are classified. HIS daughter stopped him. HIS daughter saved a few. HE is gone for now. It is said that we are going to try and turn this town back to it's normal self, before HE was born. The Mayor, Daniel Watson, say's, "All we need to do, is prescribe this pill, called Hypnocil, to prevent dreams. After all that's happened, we need to show HIM we don't fear him." So it's official. The Nightmare is Over.

Springwood, 2003

" Damn. Same street, same house. It's gotta be him. It's gotta be Freddy Krueger-" Hobbes stopped him. "Don't ever mention that name. We stopped him once, we can stop him again." "Stop who sir?" Stubbs came walking up, the new guy. "Good work tonight Stubbs. Right place. Right time." Hobbes lead Lori, the daughter of one of the town officials, to the station.

"Do they know who did it?" Lori asked as Stubbs handed her a coffee. "Honestly Lori," Stubbs said, "They haven't said anything yet. I'd be the first to know." "But they asked me all these weird questions, Like About my dreams-" Hobbes banged the glass, calling Stubbs out. As he left, Lori lay her head on the table. "What was the name? The Name?" She muttered, eyes closed. Suddenly,she opened them.

"Freddy." She whispered. She looked around. The station was empty. A noise was coming from the room behind her. Lori stood up, wandering the hall. The Missing Children posters eyes seemed to follow her, the smiles turning into frowns. A small girl lay on the ground, crying at the end of the hall. Lori walked up to her. "Are you okay?" She asked her. The little girl looked up, and Lori screamed.

The girls eyes were gouged out, blood dried as though they were her tears.

"His name is Freddy Krueger. And he loves little children. Especially little girls. It's okay to be afraid. We're all afraid. Freddy's coming back. Warn your friends. Warn everyone."

Authors Note: Yvonne had no last name. So I made up one for her.