(Okay, so I haven't touched with story in years...sorry... I've grown a lot as a writer since I first wrote this and I've decided to try and re-invent this stroy and make it better. I'm keeping the same basic plot, but a lot of stuff will be changing too. Thank to you everone who fell in love with this story, I'm sorry I didn't keep up with it. I'm going to try again, and make it even better. Hope you like it!)

The path of darkness is often mistaken as a path of an unworthy and unjust life. I would disagree. I was born of darkness; I breathe it, I live it, I love it. But that love comes at a price. When you aren't real (or whatever the human real is) you dwell in a separate dimension where you get developed, screwed around with, and just exist as a character. All the "good" characters get to float around without a care waiting to inspire people and be added to by their creators. But if you're like me (an "evil" character) you can only move about when you're being used by your creator… which I haven't for awhile.

So here I sit in this same stupid boiler room; unwanted, unused, and not in demand... that's poor old Freddy Krueger for you.

For the past elevan years I've been here, waiting for the day I'd be allowed to go out and screw around with my fellow evil-creations and go into the dreams of 4th graders and make them wake up screaming bloody murder (and I don't even have to cut them). Oh, my life is so good at times. But sadly, I'm stuck in my home sweet home for however long it takes for my dear creator to bring me back again… which doesn't look like soon…since somebody decided it was funny TO RECREATE ME AND MAKE THE SAME DAMN MOVIE AGAIN! They made me a laughing stock...they've made into a joke...

There goes Freddy Krueger, once the most feared son of a bitch alive!

I wonder if I brood about the remake too much...

There's a door that leads out, but I can't go through it. Only when you feel the fear or love of our creator or your fans can you leave. So until then I'm doomed to just stare at the ceiling…or flashback to my glory days…or just sharpen my blades (but I don't use them so what's the point)… All the others (Jason, Pinhead, and all them) get out all the time, even when they're not being used! It makes my blood boil just thinking about it…ugh…why do even get mad any more… When I try to ask them how they get out, they just laugh (I even asked politely once).

So I would suppose the other pass time I have is trying to figure out how to get out of here…hmm…how ever could they get out… Wait!

I don't just get power from my creator; I get it from my fans too. That's how they get out! They feed off that energy that their silly little followings give off! Oh, if I would have figured this out awhile ago I would have been out of here in minutes. What's wrong with me? Why didn't I realize… oh I'll worry about my problem-solving skills later... No time to waste now…too much has already escaped me.

"Now, how to find my little victim- I mean my precious little energy producer. Hmm…let's see what we can find…" I said to myself. I shut my eyes and tried to find any trace of good affection coming from anyone. I found a few that were in English,

"Freddy Krueger, nobody watches that anymore. It's so fake..."

"Lesley what did you do with your make-up? You look like Freddy Krueger with eyeliner"

The thing about the eyeliner did make me laugh but it wasn't what I was looking for…so I kept on. I unfortunately couldn't find any that were good or even vaguely interesting for that matter. I was about to give up… but... I heard a voice. It was a girl's voice, a soft little humming…

I couldn't be sure; it was an all too familiar tune. But I couldn't tell if she really knew what the song was until I finally heard her sing…

"One, two, Freddy's coming for you.

Three, four, better lock your door.

Five, six grab your crucifix.

Seven, eight gonna stay up late.

Nine, and ten...Never sleep again"

I could see her now, she was a little girl. Well, maybe I shouldn't say little but she was a bit short for her age (which I was guessing to be about…fourteen…maybe). She had a strange hair color; somewhere between blond and white, it looked silver almost. She had pretty little sky blue eyes and was wearing a purple tank top and some black leggings.

She was strutting around her room half singing and half humming my little theme song. Her room was full of boxes, some opened and others still taped up. She walked over to her sheetless bed and opened a binder that laid there. She opened, inside were tons of drawings, carefully folded up posters, and collages...of me...

The girl pulled one out slowly (a pencil-portrait of me with my glove) and then stood on the bed pressed it against the wall, directly above her bed. "Welcome to your new home Freddy, at least your here with me..." She said it with saddness in her eyes, though she smiled at my image on her wall. She then leaned over to her nightstand and picked up a couple of stray pushpins and began to secure the drawing.

I smiled with glee. This was going to work; I could feel energy building in my fingertips as I watched her. "One last thing my dearest; what's your name?" I whispered softly to myself as I looked on. And then just like that, my question was answered.

"Megan honey," A woman (presumably her mother) called out. "Your sheets are clean now, can you come get them?

"Oh, okay. I'll be there in minute..." Megan answered.

I opened my eyes. "Megan…" I whispered to myself and laughed for the first time in forever. I felt full of power again; I picked up my hat and put on my glove. But now Megan's love for me was really tested. I went up to the door that would allow my freedom…I touched the knob. It felt cool and smooth on my hand... It turned, the door opened. I was free.

Now I had Megan. My sweet little Megan…

"The man of your dreams is coming for a visit…" I called out as I ran off into the darkness of reality.