Alex stared at her ringing phone, the glow of the screen the only light in her dark room.
For a few seconds, she swore the screen said FREDDY. He could talk through phones; he'd done it before.
Then her blurred eyes focused enough to see MIKE on the screen. And several missed calls. Wiping her damp hands on her bed sheets, she snatched up the phone and answered.
"Hey, it's me, I'm fine."
It was really hard not to stutter. Tremors ran through her, and she felt hot and cold all at once. She wasn't entirely sure she had control over her own body yet.
"THANK HELL!" Mike shouted. "Are you hurt?" She could hear the rush of traffic in the background.
"Only a little." Deep breath. "Are you driving?"
"Yeah. You weren't answering..." He trailed off hoarsely.
"Sorry."
A long pause.
He'd been trying to reach her for several minutes, calling again and again, all while getting ready to leave his place to get to her, and all the while wondering if she were already dead. He knew she was trying to protect him, but hated that she risked herself to do it. She felt guilty for making him worry.
"How bad is it?" He said at last. "Do you need to go to the hospital?"
Alex touched her fingers to her temple, then glanced at her blood-tipped fingers and winced. "Uh…maybe."
"FUCK." He swore. "Sorry. Sorry. I'm just…this is bad."
"I know." She agreed. "One second."
She got up from bed to walk to the bathroom. Water dripped from her soaked form with each step, her drenched pajamas stuck to her skin. She flicked on the light and stared at her reflection in the mirror: no one could miss the half-inch, deep slash in her temple that was leaking blood into her matted hair.
"Shit. I might need stitches."
"Fuck. Okay. Are you gonna be okay until I get there?"
"I think so."
She tucked the phone against her shoulder, pulling open the top drawer to find her emergency kit. Her hands fumbled, her fingers felt like they were buzzing and clumsy. She managed to pull out a gauze pad, which she opened with her still-shaking hands and pressed against the wound.
"I've got bandaids and stuff." She mumbled.
"Okay. Keep pressure on it so you don't lose more blood."
"Yeah, I know."
Adrenaline still pulsed violently through her, every fiber on edge. She glared at herself in the mirror for a few seconds, and felt furious at the wounded, water-laden girl she faced. Pathetic.
"I was able to heal most of it..." She insisted. "...just not this one."
Mike grunted. It was an angry noise, accompanied by the tightening grip of his fingers around his steering wheel. He was sick and tired of this pain and desperation.
"This is the LAST time." He fumed. "I'm going to kill that fucker."
"We've tried that." Alex said softly. "A lot of people have tried."
"I mean fucking permanently."
She didn't say anything. Krueger would keep coming back, over and over, to maim and torture and kill with his usual ruthless glee; his bloodlust would never end, even when there no one left to kill he'd itch for more. She felt this truth at her core: the idea of ending him was hopeless. But Mike kept on thinking, kept on trying, and she wasn't going to shut him down.
"Hey. Hey! Are you still there?" She heard Mike saying.
Her attention went back to her brother. "Yeah, sorry. Kind of out of it. How far are you?"
"Five minutes. If you feel like you can, get some coffee ready."
"I will. See you soon."
She hung up the phone and set it on the counter, turning on the faucet to wash her hands. Streaks of red swirled down the drain. Fingers habitually rubbed the four scars that ran diagonally across her left forearm. She winced.
.../...
His strike didn't seem real at first. The metallic flash of blades had grasped for her so many times before, she knew their dance by now. She thought she could evade him, and surely she'd moved quickly enough this time, too.
No. Not this time.
He stopped and stepped back, grinning in awful victory. She caught the gleam of bright red on the edges of his flexing knives.
The shocking sting of the razors' cut set in.
And then the blood, seeping from paper-thin slices in her flesh. She screamed in sudden horror, her hand pressed desperately over the wounds. The bleeding wouldn't stop. It was getting worse...a flood. She started to feel weak.
He laughed and laughed. She looked down to watch the red blood gushing between her white-knuckled fingers.
Her vision blurred, then went black.
.../...
She looked back up at herself in the mirror, gritting her teeth. Blood was starting to seep through the gauze. She pulled out another piece of gauze and medical tape, wrapping it in a band around her head to keep the gauze in place.
The corner of her eye caught a shadow of movement in the doorway behind her. She jumped and spun.
Nothing there.
Her heart hammered in her chest, her breath was short and shallow. Fingers gripped the sink behind her. She strained to listen for any trace of sound.
Seconds passed.
A tiny creak, like a footstep.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Someone - something - was in the apartment.
Dark in her bedroom. Why hadn't she turned on the light in there, too?
Slowly, she pried her hands away from the sink, trying to control her breathing.
Eyes searched the small bathroom for a weapon. Nothing seemed adequate. Fingers closed around her phone; she could at least use it to pummel someone.
Breathing silently, her heart thudding, she took one step at a time toward the bathroom door. Body slightly crouched, defensive, muscles coiled, ready to strike.
Okay. Element of surprise. Go.
With a roar, she leapt out of the bathroom and into the darkened bedroom, switching on the light and holding her phone high, ready to bring it down on the face or skull of the intruder.
A frightened yowl and a scramble of paws was her answer; an orange tabby cat scrambled across the floor in terror and darted to hide under the bed. Her neighbor's cat, Lennie.
"Oh jesus Lennie!" Alex dropped to her hands and knees, her voice immediately apologetic, then softer and cooing. "Lennie, what are you doing in here? Ohhh sweetie I'm so sorry..."
The frightened cat stared out at her from under the bed, his wide eyes gleaming a faint green of reflected light. She felt terrible for accidentally terrifying her furry visitor.
"It's okay sweetie, it's okay, I didn't mean to scare you, I thought you were...somebody else."
She scooted a little closer, and the cat hissed, baring fangs. She scooted back to give him space. Clearly it was too soon to try making up.
"Alright, okay, fair enough. I'm really sorry, you sweet boy. I didn't know you came in...you startled me. I'll go and get you some tuna and you can eat it when you're ready."
Alex stood carefully, her joints popping, and groaned in frustration at the aches left in her body. She glanced toward the opened bedroom window, watching the curtains fluttering.
A chill ran through her suddenly. Shaking her head, she made her way to the kitchen.
Time for coffee.