A Cross Between Two Evils
Book One: The Method Behind the Madness
Chapter One
A Half Ass Beginning
Disclaimer- I don't have any money for you people to sue outta me so here's the disclaimer. TA DA! -
The entire house was dead silent- even though it was well past eleven that bothered her. Normally Jack was in a drunken rage by now and Julie was wailing like a banshee because he'd belted her. Yet the house remained in its hushed silence, seldom whispering creaks that gave away its true age but generally keeping up an eerie stillness. The whole thing made her uneasy seeing that she still wasn't quite familiar with it yet. The three of them had moved in two days before, this being the third night she'd spent in a foreign bed, in an unfamiliar town.
It was a rather nice house considering the stories she'd heard about it, still, she didn't pay attention to that sort of thing- every house had its ghost stories. Danielle shared a room with her younger sister, Julie, which was a trial all its own. Julie looked just like her mother, gentle blond hair that caressed her round face and a pair of big blue eyes that held that childlike wonder. Like any six and half year old, Julie was curious about things- but in the Lyman house you don't ask questions. Hell, you don't talk if you're smart, it just wasn't done.
There father, Jack Lyman, wasn't what one would call… gentle. Actually you might want to classify him as one of the following: wife-beater, child abuser, drunk, druggy, or an all-around asshole- one of those would do. It was lucky for them that he'd found the house so cheap (though he really wasn't sure why), or they'd all be sharing a one room apartment somewhere in New Jersey. Danielle, to much her detest, looked very much like her father. Brown hair, brown eyes, slim features- and somewhat of a lanky body. She rolled her eyes and threw her book down, her mind wandering to things she'd rather not think about. Jack had been fine before Lora died, she'd called him dad back then but now… now he wasn't dad, he was drunken, abusive Jack.
Clicking off the lamp she turned over and closed her eyes- trying to quiet her mind from all previous thoughts. Slowly sleep took hold of her, pulling her down into the dark waters of peace. She shifted slightly- her comforter slipping from her frail grasp and fell to the floor with a light thud.
Coming around she felt unbearably hot as if she'd been laying in a sauna. Slowly she opened her eyes, finding she was standing upright, her feet firmly planted on the rickety caged catwalk. Strange dream, she thought inwardly as she walked onward, only finding more iron piping and steam rising from underneath the skyway. It was silent, like the house, with the exception of spurts of steam hissing through the air. A loud high-pitched cry echoed throughout the boiler room causing her to gasp and jump slightly. Upon farther inspection Danielle decided that the scream had come from Julie.
One, two Freddy's coming for you
Childlike voices reverberated off the walls, bounding around like ping-pong balls and crashing against the piping and hissing steam. Danielle slowed her step, these voices were creepy and… it brought up the question: who the hell is Freddy?
Three, four better lock your door
Well okay then. He mustn't be a great guy if you have to lock your door. And, seeing that she was in a boiler room he must be some sort of killer- I mean come on, boiler rooms are great places to hide bodies.
Five, six grab your crucifix
Now wait one second: was this guy a vampire or something?
Seven, eight better stay up late
Nine, ten never sleep again
Well whoever this Freddy guy was he had something to do with sleep, or nighttime. Maybe he was a vampire- they came out at night. Though she did hope he had some sort of disclaimer on that whole 'one, two buckle your shoe' thing or he's gonna get sued. Danielle laughed gently to herself- she was in a nightmare of a dream and she was cracking jokes, how typical was that? Eh well, back to this Freddy guy. So, he was evil and… apparently lives in a boiler room, and… has her sister. Bad. Very bad. The scream came again and Danielle looked forward, seeing that she'd practically ran into the man grabbing her sister by the arm.
"Hey!" she snapped and he whorled around dropping her sister and sending her a hell of a glare. The very first thing he noticed was her eyes- deeply distressed, unfathomable brown eyes. Her face was rather slender and had a girlish look to it- high broadly spaced cheek bones, pale white skin, her jawline was strong yet feminine which was the only thing that really fathomed her actual age. Maple brown hair kissed by sleep fell in soft waves across her shoulders and trailed halfway down her back. She had an ethereal shape which made her look strangely delicate- like she'd been made from glass. Her broad set shoulders took away the allusion that she would very well break if he touched her. Curved hips gave some shape to that slender, lanky body of hers while her exceptionally long legs added to her height.
She gazed at the man for a long moment- whether she was shocked into a state of horror or fascinated with him she couldn't tell. His pinkish skin had been badly burned, the texture reminding her of when movie film got to hot and melted, how it appeared on the screen- bubbling until it tore holes in the film and finally burning all the way through. His lips seemed to stay in an eternal scowl, while a pair of bright blue eyes peered back at her. His sweater was frayed and tattered at the ends, the red was rather dingy and the parts that were once green shown more brown than the original color. A dusty brown fedora sat on his bald head and a pair of black work boots that reminded her much of her father's occupied his feet. But what worried her wasn't his clothes or even the fact he was tragically blistered, what worried her was the glove on his hand.
A caramel colored brown, it had once been any other glove only now it bore four long blades at each end. She could tell he'd fitted joints to it, making it as easy to move and flex as his own hand. He moved it and as he did her heart skipped a beat and he turned from her sister now, easing towards her.
Ffft… clink… clink… clink… clink…
He ran it along the iron piping, tapping his claws like he was waiting for something. Julie turned and ran the opposite direction but he didn't follow, his eyes were set on her. He stood close now, eyeing her, watching her- why didn't she scream? The thought that she could very well be terrified into a sate of shock entered his mind, and he toyed with the idea a moment and let it pass as she opened her mouth to speak, only to bring it back to ponder over when no words emitted from her mouth. Her eyes traveled down, tangling themselves in his sweater, caressing his skin, pricking at his claws. She didn't scream, she didn't even gasp, her eyes just moved across his entire being in what seemed to be one eased motion. A smile played on his lips as her eyes came back to meet his. He cocked his brow and she mimicked him, her eyes becoming amused with his behavior.
"Are you gonna say something or just stare at me?" she asked finally. It wasn't playful the way she asked, but something he hadn't heard in a tone before. It sounded like she was yielding a friendly gesture, like extending ones hand or smiling. Yet no smile had caressed her face, at least, not to his knowledge. "Well?"
"Well?" he repeated in a mocking tone. He just watched her a moment, neither speaking nor moving- just trying to figure what exactly to do next.
"Who are you?" she inquired.
"Freddy Kruger," he said simply, like she should know. It registered now, this was the guy she heard all the stories about. He was that child killer- and then it struck her, he was a CHILD KILLER. Shit. Well, she wasn't a child but- she looked at his glove again, she didn't think that he really cared. "And who are you?"
"What'dea take me for?" she scoffed, "an idiot? Who the hell gives there name to-"
"Daniela," his mouth churned into a sickening smile. "Scared to die?" he took a step forward and swiped at her, only to have her stumble back and grip the railing.
"You better stop asking questions you know the answers to," in one swift motion she'd pulled herself onto the railing causing it to quiver violently down the line, then pushed herself off the bar with such force that it sent her propelling through the air at least four times as far as if she'd simply jumped. She plummeted quickly- missing her mark she fought dearly to grab another pipe. She hit two on the way down, finally grabbing the third only to realize it was hot. Letting go she hit the ground with a light thud. "Ow."
"Thought you'd be clever, didn't you?" he strummed his claws on the rail as he looked down at her. He was obviously annoyed with her, temporary escape, yet seemed amused with this new plaything that had come into is playground. His domain.
"Ow," she groaned again, "no, not really." Her body felt like it wanted to shut down, just lay there and wait for him to sink those claws into her back. She forced herself up, moaning and cussing under her breath- staggering forward a few steps. She turned to walk away, simple, casual, just to rub it in his face that she got away- even if her legs were throbbing painfully, but he stood before her. She froze, her eyes widened a bit and she took a step back. Ground floor, nothing to climb up and nothing to jump down from, he had her where he wanted her.
"How oh how should I kill you my pet?" he mused, his talons flexing, "something special, I haven't had this much fun in a while."
"So glad I could entertain you," she muttered sardonically. He jerked forward in an attempt to grab her. For lack of better ideas she bolted, running faster than she was sure she'd ever had- only to collide with him and go sprawling onto the floor. "Fuck. Stop doing that- it's not fair you know."
"Don't care," he chuckled.
"Didn't think so," she rubbed the back of her head, "just a suggestion."
"Anymore before I slice you to bits?" he played with his glove like he was growing bored. "Please- I always like to hear how my clients feel about my work." Well, he asked for it.
"Actually," she rotated her shoulder a few times, "I do. First- your theme song is a rip off, did you know that? I mean how scary is one, two buckle my shoe anyways? Second, I didn't want to rag on you, as you can see I'm not the most fashionable person either but… are you stuck in some kinda of Christmas-time warp? Let me say though, I do like the glove- very Michael Jackson." He swiped at her. "Kidding! Just kidding. Sheesh, you'd think someone so cynical would have a better sense of humor."
"You've got a big mouth," he growled.
"I'd make a joke but you might take it the wrong way," she gave a quirky sort of grin, "and if I know the criminal mind you'd probably fuck me if I make any comment about your penis, am I right?" He just glared at her. "Ow, tough crowd." He slashed at her again and cut her shoulder this time. When it hurt she began to worry- you know that old saying, dreams can' hurt you, well then why did she feel pain? "Oh," she kept her hand over the wound, "sadist are we? Well I'm more of a bondage person myse-" He grabbed her and ran his bladed finger across her cheek- not cutting hit, only running it across.
"Have I mentioned that you talk too much?" he mused and she nodded quickly. "Maybe I should just sew your mouth shut."
"I'd rather you not," she tried hard not to whimper.
"Aw," he smirked now, "where's that cocky sense of humor of yours Dani?"
"I believe it went out with the shit," her voice was shaky, "which you've also scared outta me." A low chuckle emerged from his throat, his was dry and raspy like his voice but he let go of her and she backed up a few steps. Did he call her Dani? She put her hand back over her wound but kept her eyes on the man before her. "So," she moved away some, "whatcha waiting for, an invitation? Or do you just play the whole cat and mouse thing and give your victims a panic attack before you kill 'em?"
"No," he smirked. That didn't answer her damn question you stupid… grr.
"No?" she eyed him, "what's no? No you don't play games? No you're not waiting for an invitation? No you don't have a dick? No what?"
"What's your fascination with my lower body?" he smirked and sat on the piping, watching her.
"Most men are rather sensitive about themselves," she went on like she was recalling something she'd read, "it's a good way to piss them off, really fast. But, seeing that you don't give a shit either way your either very comfortable with yourself- or your dickless."
"Why are you attempting to piss me off?" he leaned forward some, like he was interested with her answer, though his expression said different.
"Well my sister was here," she pointed out, "and I'd really rather you not kill her so I figured I'd keep you occupied."
"She's already awake," he smiled now. God damnit. "You do know I'll get her eventually, don't you?"
"You're just a dream," she shrugged.
"Oh really?" he smiled now, "so when you wake up and you see four long beautiful scratch marks cross that delicate little arm of yours-"
"Then I'm going to become addicted to coffee," she relaxed a bit after he said 'wake up'. "And you never answered my question. No what?"
"No I'm not waiting for an invitation," he said simply, "I'm more of an… uninvited sort of guy."
"That doesn't surprise me," she blinked a few times, "why am I talking to a serial killer… better yet, why aren't I dead yet?"
"Pickings are slim," he shrugged, "I'll keep you around a while longer- just to play with."
"Goody," she grunted dryly, "I've always enjoyed being referred to as a play thing." She sighed. "So nice of Julie to wake me up… but no, leave me in the dream with the homicidal killer-"
"I thought you said you were just dreaming," he smiled.
"Yeah but I figure I might as well go along with it," she shrugged, "but I have heard of you… kinda. Not a nice guy."
"No," he shook his head.
"Killed kids," she listed, "and… got murdered?" He nodded. "Well I guess karma gets back at you, eh?" He didn't answer her.
"What's that from?" he pointed with his claw to a bruise on her shoulder under the wound he'd made.
"Oh," she just shrugged, "I'm klutzy." She started to feel rather lightheaded and he gave a short wave with his claw.
"See ya round Dani," he snickered, "good luck with that newfound caffeine addiction." Danielle sat upright with a start, Julie bawling her eyes out on the edge of the bed- wailing really.
"What!" she growled and then felt the hot stickiness on her hand- looking down she saw a coat of blood. "Fuck."
Author's note: Bear with me, it's my first Nightmare of Elm Street fanfic so don't burn me at the stake- or furnaces for that matter. Please leave a review and let me know how it is so far. Thanks much!
Amber Lee