Disclaimer: Do not own the movie A Nightmare on Elm Street, or any of its characters. Property of New Line/Warner Bros., Wes Craven, Platinum Dunes, and whoever else...
Author's Note: I decided to join the Freddy/Nancy AU with my friend Type Unique Pen Name Here, for au50 at insanejournal. I just started this and I hope I do it right. And, another note, like my friend, I will probably NOT be doing this in numerical order.
Chapter Warnings/Notes: Taboo subject and images
07. Lie.
"I've been here before," Nancy whispered, her body shaking and her voice quivering lightly.
"If you can keep a secret, I'll take you to a special place."
She felt cold. Where had that come from? Who... Was that him? Was that image of him? Stepping deeper into the hidden room, her flashlight slowly scanned across the wall. It was covered. Covered in childish drawings. Some with yellowing paper. Some looking as if they had just been placed on the wall. Drawings. Their drawings. The Badham kids drawings... Her drawings.
She felt her stomach drop as she realized that most, if not almost all, of these drawings where hers. She had drawn them. And he... He had kept every single one. Posting them on his wall like trophies almost. Signs of their trust, her trust.
"That is so good"
Signs of his lies.
"You know what I got some other drawings. And they're like really bad drawings. Maybe, you can help me fix them?"
She remembered having some of those drawings. He had drawn her and him. They really had been childish and more scribble like than her own. One truth under many false promises, false soothing words and kisses to her temple.
"It's OK, little Nancy. I'm sorry it hurts... The first time is always the worse. Don't cry. I promise I'll make it better."
Her stomach lurched and her heart beat hard and painfully against her ribcage. Her vision was blurring, as she passed the light over a large drawing, painted in blood red paint, on the wall. Had it really been paint even?
"Go ahead, Nancy. I wont tell. You can paint whatever you want on my wall."
That dress had gotten dirty. They had thrown paint at each other in play. He must have planned it then, she thought sickly, recalling how he slowly removed her red covered dress, fingers grazing across her young, childishly pudgy, skin. How he had shook as she stood in her Pocahontas underwear and little white shoes in the cold secret cave... The things he did...
The flashlight almost dropped from her hand. She sucked in air, shaking, trying to keep herself from crying right there. No! Why...? Where were these memories coming from? This had to be a mistake... These memories.. It's like something was trying to tell her that...
"This will be our little secret, OK? You have to promise not to tell. Do you promise to be a good girl and not tell, little Nancy?"
Pain. A painful feeling. She could recall crying. Wanting the pain to stop. A husky, but soft voice, whispering that everything would be OK. Hands holding her close. More pain. Lots now. Nancy grabbed at her hair and tugged, shaking her head, as nausea overwhelmed her and she pressed her forehead to the wall and threw up.
"Its OK, little Nancy. Lots of special friends do this." "Stop-Stop screaming! D-Don't cry! Stop it!" "You're my number one girl, you know that Nancy?"
"No," she groaned, head swimming, barely aware of Quentin's hands leading her to sit on the dirty old mattress. No! Not here. She couldn't sit here! All these memories... These thoughts! So many of them on this disgusting bed! Nancy quivered and whimpered, actually whimpered, as soon as she was on the bed.
"It only feels funny at first but I promise you'll start to feel really good, Nancy." "Stay on the bed! I told you to stay on the bed, dammit!" "Just t-try to breath slowly th-through your nose, b-baby girl... Yes, j-just like that."
"Oh, God...," tears slid down her cheek, as she clutched her knees, shaking violently, barely feeling Quentin's hand on her back. Him asking her what was wrong. She almost didn't see the pictures clutched in his hand. Her eyes slowly focused in on the one on top.
"You have to stand like this, OK? So I can get a good picture of you. Can you do that?"
"W-We were wrong," Nancy whispered, her voice hoarse from trying to hold back the waterfall of tears and sobs of anguish. Quentin clutched the pictures before turning them over. "I know... I-I know..."
Nancy took in a shuddering breath once more, hiccuping and clinching her leg harder. "He's not after us because we lied... H-He's after us because w-we told the truth... We told the truth...," her voice became small, as Quentin slammed the pictures into the shoe box, cursing and jumping from the bed.
"If you can keep a secret, I'll take you to a special place."
'Liar!' Nancy inwardly hissed, closing her eyes, unable to look at the walls of the "special place", of his "Secret cave". Too much pain. Too many... Too many painful lies.
Too many.
