Author's Note: From the timeline and the start of Freddy's Dead - this would be set in late 1999 - as it was supposedly set 10 years after the end of Dream Child. So, Maggie/Katherine would be 37 (this is based on the timeline I normally use - where she was born in 1962. This may be wrong, but I'm going to use it anyhow! Lol)
Also, as an avid fan of Freddy's Dead I have noticed a few things in the battle scene at the end that I wanted to bring into this chapter!
Chapter 3: Haunted
The Shelter was never particularly busy at 8am. Most of the teenagers were still sleeping soundly in their rooms. It was about this time when the staff had arrived, ready to start their long day. There were a few counsellors who would have remained overnight to help out. Either keeping an eye on the teenagers during night time or either catching up on any outstanding paper work. There were rumours flying about that the budget for the Shelter was going to be cut significantly in 2000. On the other side of the City a new Youth Counselling Centre was being built.
The Mayor had stated that it would replace the Shelter on the Southside of the City, saying it had run it's course and would be dismantled whenever the new one was finally completed. It had caused outrage amongst the staff, most of them declaring that the Mayor was being discriminating against this side of the City, that many of the teenager's welfare both physically and mentally would be under threat. That the Shelter was serving this Community in this part of the city, that it was impetrative that the Shelter stayed opened. The teenagers lives depended on it.
Maggie strode into the main foyer of the building and gave a warm smile at the security guard, "Morning Harry, how are you?"
"I'm good thanks Dr Burroughs. You enjoy your time off?"
"Yes, I did" she nodded, her grip tightening on her briefcase and she turned right past several offices to her left and right. Most of them were empty, their occupants having not reached the Shelter yet.
She continued onwards and turned left and was soon at her own small office. On the glass of her door were the words 'Dr M. Burroughs'. Twisting the handle she pushed opened the door and stepped inside, closing the door behind her. She then took off her coat and hooked it on the coat stand at the side of the door. Before she could even open her briefcase to take out her case papers there was a small knock at her door.
"Come in!" she called.
The door creaked opened, revealing Doc. In his hands were two mugs of coffee. "Morning. Thought I would bring you some coffee"
Maggie broke out into a small smile, "Morning. Thanks. I might be needing this today. Got a lot of work to catch up on!"
"I'm sure" Doc replied, "So, did you get some sleep last night?"
"Yes" Maggie lied, "I feel far better than I did yesterday"
"That's good" he handed over the coffee to her, watching silently as she took a quick drink. "My offer it still open. If you want to talk"
Maggie groaned inwardly. He wouldn't let go! "I don't really see the need Doc" her head motioned towards the chair, offering him a seat. "It's over. He's gone. He isn't coming back. As for my memory, it will pass. I know it! I'll come to terms with it!"
He stared at her, could she be lying? Was this all a façade she was putting on? "Maggie…"
"Listen" she raised her right hand and slid into her seat facing him, "If I need any help, I will ask. I just want to try and get my life back on track! Back to my work" her gaze fell to the stack of papers to her right. "Maybe getting back into my work, helping the kids will help me move on. I want to forget about him, about Freddy" her voice quavered slightly as she muttered his name. But it went unnoticed by Doc. "I want to focus on the here and now. Not what had happened the other week"
Doc looked at her in surprise. This was certainly a sudden change from last night. Again was she being genuine, honest with herself and with him? Was she saying this to get him to stop pestering her? Maybe he would have to keep an eye on her, to make sure she was really coping well. "Okay, Maggie. If you are really sure"
"I am" Maggie nodded determinedly, "So, how is Tracey? Has she been okay? Are her burns healing up well?"
"I brought her to the hospital during the week. She got a small skin graft for her wrists. But she's fine. She keeps asking about you"
"I'll go and see her my first therapy session this morning. Let her know I'll see her about 10.30 or so" Maggie smiled.
"No problem, I'll let her know" Doc nodded then rose from his seat, "I'll see you later on, perhaps we could get some lunch?"
"Yeah" Maggie agreed, then asked a question that had been bothering her over the last few days. "Doc, what happened? I mean, to the remains?"
Doc held her pensive gaze. He had wondered when she was going to ask about this. "We burnt them"
"Burnt?" her voice was shaky, "Where?"
"I don't think…" he began.
"Doc! Please tell me!" Maggie pleaded.
"Okay" Doc sighed in defeat and took a small step towards the desk, "You know the old Jameson Junkyard? Well, there was an incinerator…"
Maggie gulped, her face going a deathly shade of pale.
"Maggie" Doc looked at her in concern, "Are you okay?"
She forced a smile, "Yes. I just haven't eaten this morning. So, you burnt his remains in the incinerator?"
Doc nodded slowly, "Yes. I know someone who works there. An old friend. He didn't know they were body remains that were being burnt. I had them concealed in a black bin bag. No one knew"
She shivered involuntary at this. A part of her felt as though that his remains deserved a proper burial. Not just thrown into some raging fire, to be deposed of in such an inhumanely way. Taking a deep breath she nodded, "Okay. Thanks for letting me know. I'll see you later for lunch!"
"Yes, of course. I'll make sure there is coffee ready!"
She watched as he left the room, slightly relieved that he was gone. Gradually she lowered her trembling face down to her hand bag on the ground and bent down to reach inside, rummaging through it until she grabbed a small white bottle of Valium and a plastic water bottle. Popping open the small white bottle she shook out two small white tablets and slid them into her mouth, washing them down with a mouthful of water. Her hands shook violently as she closed the lids, trying to calm her erratic breathing.
She hated feeling like this, the constant bouts of anxiety whenever she thought about him. Closing her eyes slowly she lifted her right hand towards her cream shirt, placing it on over her heart and after a few long deep breaths she managed to pacify her irregular breathing. "Calm down. It had to be done. They had to remove his remains. You know it"
Nodding quietly to herself she pried opened her eyes and pulled out her top drawer, lifting out her small black work diary. She flipped through the pages until she came across today's date.
Monday 27th September 1999.
A disgruntled sigh came from as she read her schedule for the day. There were six sessions she had today, each of them varied between 45minutes to an hour each and she had a meeting with one of the kid's parents at the end of the day. It was going to be a long day. But first things were first, she needed food!
It didn't take her long to reach the staff canteen at the other end of the building. She had to pass through the teenager's sleeping quarters and had given a quick wave to Tracey as she left her room, ready for her session with Doc. She smiled at one of the canteen staff as she wandered over to a small table that had several trays of fruit and fresh breads such pancakes, croissants, sandwiches. After lifting an apple and banana she turned to leave the canteen when she bumped into her boss. Kelly Summers.
"Morning, Kelly" she smiled warmly at him.
"Welcome back Maggie, how are you?"
"I'm great thanks!" Maggie replied.
"That's good, you look far better than last week. I'm glad you took my advice to take a few days off" he nodded and smiled brightly at her, "Though I'm still not sure what you were talking about. You were rambling a bit last week"
"Rambling?" Maggie gave him a confused look.
"Yes, you said something about some kids who we had here. But there were no records of them" Kelly retorted.
"Oh, I was just stressed out" Maggie lied. Doc was completely right, her father did erase John, Carlos and Spencer from existence. She took a deep breath, trying to keep herself composed and calm. She would keep their memory alive, she wouldn't forget them. Never. Her eyes shifted down towards the small box in his hands, "Just forget about it. So, I take it you found something in the kid's rooms?"
"Yeah" Kelly sighed and held the box out to her, "Would you be able to leave these down in the weapons locker? Just until the police comes? I've a meeting with one of the kid's parents now"
"No problem. Though do you really think the police will ever come and collect them? We've been collecting weapons from the kids for the last year and there still hasn't been any sign of the police collecting them!" Maggie pointed out and took the box off of him.
"Well, we can only hope, can't we?"
Maggie chuckled lightly and looked at the three pocket knives and long thin shaving blade in the box, "So, who had these?"
"Jack" Kelly replied grimly.
Maggie rolled her eyes in dismay. She knew it would have been him, "I'll have a word with him when I see him in the afternoon"
"Thanks Maggie. Glad to have you back!"
She nodded and went on her way. After quickly eating her fruit, she collected the keys to the weapon locker from the security desk and then with great prudence made her way down to the basement. At the bottom step she felt a shiver go up her spine. It was her first time down here since the 'battle'. Everything was eerily calm. Too quiet for her likening.
She stopped at the weapons locker and unlocked it quickly, placing the knives and blade onto the shelf. Her brown eyes then scoured the other weapons, the ninja stars, long thick knives…etc. They weren't the exact ones she had used to maim her father, but still she remembered vividly throwing each one at him. Pinning him against the pillar. The look on his face was of disgust, of rage at how she defying him. Turning on him yet again.
Maggie felt a stray tear roll down her face and with a vicious snarl she slammed the locker door shut and shoved the keys into her front left hand trouser pocket. "Fucking stop it! Stop thinking about it!"
Wiping at her face drearily she turned to go back upstairs when her legs froze, her body turning back towards the caged area of the basement of its own accord. There was a sudden compulsion to go inside. Leisurely she inched forward and peered through the doorway. The burnt scorch marks were still on the concrete pillar, the wooden crate to its left was also burnt along the edges. The remains of her father were now cleaned up from the ground. Everything looked normal.
Taking a small deep breath she moved through the doorway and stood in the middle of the room and scrutinized the area slowly as she did a 360 degree turn. Her vigilant gaze soon fell upon something stuck between the pillar and another wooden crate to the left.
She quickly approached the pillar and crouched down to squeeze her right hand between the gap, her fingers curling around the item. Her mouth slowly parted in horror as she held her father's brown fedora hat. Her fingers tightened on the hat as she rose to her feet. How the fuck did that get here? Swallowing thickly she peered inside the hat, seeing his name in black pen.
Fred Krueger.
Her body broke out into a cold sweat as she stared at the hat. Something very fucking strange was happening, first she found the bladed glove and now her father's hat. Maggie frowned as a little voice in the back of her head whispered. The voice low and gritty, all too familiar to her.
'Look under the bench…'
Maggie bit her bottom lip and twisted around to the back of the room, where the bench was and as if hypnotized made her way towards it. Her gaze falling towards the small scrap of paper underneath. She knelt down and snatched it swiftly with her free hand, smoothing it out on her right knee. It was a news paper article, the front page of the Springwood Gazette. The date could barely be made out, but the year was 1966. The headline stood out in big black letters, startling her.
Springwood Slasher Strikes Again!
Her hands shook and she sprung to her feet, "What the hell?"
Maggie knew she had pulled her father out of the dream, but where did this come from? As for her father's hat, she knew she had knocked it off his head when she was in the dream. But she vaguely remembered that it was upon his head when he was crawling on the ceiling to lock her in the caged area. Had his powers transferred over from the dream world into the waking world?
They must have, as it was the only explanation as to why his hat was here. Also, when he had first showed himself to her his face was smooth, unblemished, just the way she remembered him. But then he had changed it back to it's true form, the ghastly burns from when he had died.
Licking her lips nervously she glanced about the basement, as though she felt that she was being watched. Her fingers trembled as she folded the paper on the bench and shoved it into her trouser pocket. She would read it later when she got home from work.
In a matter of minutes she had arrived back at her office, placing the hat and the newspaper in her drawer. Just as though she thought things couldn't get any creepier after finding her father's glove, she had now found his hat and that newspaper article from her home town. She should destroy each item, but did she really want to keep them? Was she trying to keep her father's memory alive or was he actually haunting her?
X x x
A week had passed since Maggie had discovered her father's fedora hat and the small newspaper article of the Springwood Gazette. She stowed them away in the same box where the bladed glove was kept. For a few nights she had read the newspaper article, becoming engrossed and yet repulsed by what her father had done to that young girl. She was just four years old. Her body was found in an alleyway, her corpse was horribly burnt and there were four deep stab wounds in her abdomen. There were also suggestions of a sexual attack on the young girl, that caused Maggie to be physically sick. She found herself consumed by grief, crying her heart out for the young girl. This wasn't the father she remembered as a child, this was the dark and corrupt side of him. Her father was a monster. It was the part of him that she despised, that she never wished had existed.
What had caused him to be like this? What turned him into this monster, this predator? She had seen his memories when she invaded his mind, the bullying he received from the other children as a young child. The vicious and brutal physical abuse that was bestowed to him as a teenager. But she knew deep down inside there was more to it than that. She wanted to find out more about him. It scared her to think that maybe she wanted to find out more about his killings when he was in the dream world, causing people's darkest fears to come alive and conquer them. Kill them.
To her it was part of her.
Her family history.
The door to her apartment was flung opened as Maggie staggered in, her right hand gripping her briefcase that was full with case papers to be worked on. It was Friday, just past 6pm and she was exhausted to say the least. It had been a long week, neither mind a long fucking day. She had been in the Shelter at 6.30am to deal with her patient's Cassey's violent attack on another girl. It that wasn't bad enough, three more kids were brought in. All of them were involved in drugs and were pretty badly shaken up. She was never so pleased to see 5pm come along, all she wanted was a nice glass of rose wine to unwind and relax.
Thankfully, Doc hadn't asked her any more about her memories or anything to do with her father. Perhaps he was finally accepting that she wasn't going to talk about it to him.
Maggie wandered over to her small work desk at the living room window and placed her briefcase and bag on top. She would work on it tomorrow. Heading back into the kitchen she pulled opened the microwave where there was a plate of left over pasta from the previous night. Pushing the door closed she pushed in the plug and pressed two minutes on the timer, then pressed start. Her hands tugged off her coat and placed it over the kitchen chair, then she opened the fridge and took out a small bottle fo rose wine. Her favourite - White Zinfandel. She quickly poured herself a large glass of wine and took a long gulp, sagging weakly against the counter. Her body was drained. Al she wanted was sleep, but for the last week she had suffered from bouts of insomnia.
Ding!
Maggie jumped slightly as the microwave chimed from her right. She placed her glass of wine on the kitchen table, then grabbed her knife and fork from the cutlery drawer.
She sat quietly at the table, munching eagerly at her food and sipping her wine in between. After a few minutes her mind began to wander as she idily began to hum an old children's song, specifically an old jump rope song. But it had now been twisted into a song that warned children, teenagers when they were asleep. Soon her humming began to cease and hauntingly she began to sing.
"One, two Freddy's coming for you…"
Maggie dropped her fork in terror as these words fluttered out of her mouth and slammed her right hand over her trembling lips. What the fuck? Why was she singing that song and how did she know the actual tune? She had seen the rhymes back in Springwood, but she never actually heard it being sung. How could she have known?
A small whimper left her throat and she withdrew her hand from her mouth. She noticed a small drop of blood on her finger, then reached up to touch underneath her nose, feeling liquid dribbling down her left nostril. It was blood. She pushed herself from her seat and rushed to the kitchen counter to grab a small piece of kitchen roll, then held it to her nose to cease the blood from flowing.
She really didn't like what was happening to her. Not one fucking bit!
Maggie sighed and swallowed hard, no longer in the mood to eat. Grabbing her plate of pasta she scrapped it into the small bin, then placed her fork and knife in the sink. Her hands shook as she took her wine bottle and wine glass, switching the kitchen light off as she went into her bedroom.
When she arrived in her bedroom she left her wine on her new dressing table to the right of her bed. There was no mirror attached to the new dresser, as she had bought a new five foot tall mirror that was tucked into the far left hand corner of the room beside the window. She kicked off her black shoes and slumped onto her bed, then took another sip of her wine. Perhaps she should take it easy on the wine as she was starting to feel a little light headed. Screwing the bottle top back on the wine she pushed it away. That was it for tonight.
Leaning against the headboard she gave a slightly inebriated sigh and then her head lulled to the left, her brown eyes being set upon the wardrobe yet again. Slowly, she swung her legs over the bed and staggered forward towards the wardrobe to reach down for the box and knelt before it. She pried open the lid and gazed at the items inside. Her father's fedora hat and glove. Her right hand reached inside, her fingers brushing the fabric of the hat lightly and then she trailed her right index finger along a single blade. Why was she still keeping them?
Suddenly, for the first time since last week she heard that gravely voice.
Perhaps you should take them back…
Maggie scowled at the voice and shook her head in discord. "No. I'm not going back there!"
She quickly closed the box and closed the doors of the wardrobe as she stood. Fuck this, she was going go get some shut eye. It didn't matter to her if it was only 6.40pm, she needed some sleep. Even if it was for a few hours. Quickly, she started to discard her clothes, first her navy blouse and then black trousers, discarding them in the small linen basket. She lifted her pink silk pyjamas and pulled them on.
Her gaze then fell upon her small bottle of valium tablets on her small chest of drawers. It surprised her that she wasn't addicted to them by now. Perhaps she was. But it was the only way she could pacify her anxiety. Grimly she climbed onto her bed, grabbing the bottle and then pulled opened the top drawer rummaging through the contents until she got what she was looking for. Sleeping tablets. She knew it was dangerous to mix both tablets, but she wanted to get some sleep. Otherwise she was going to start hallucinating, just like she did last week. When she saw him staring back at her in the mirror.
Perhaps if she forced herself to sleep it would hopefully help her get into a better routine with her sleeping patterns. Also, she should perhaps cut down on the long hour shifts she was putting in for the last week or so. Last weekend she had worked two night straight, helping out Doc and a few of the other counsellors with their paper work. But then again it was a much needed distraction at the time.
Unscrewing both bottle caps she shook out one tablet each and slid them into her mouth, dry swallowing them both and with a grim sigh she walked towards the light switch, turning it off. The room was soon shrouded in darkness. Maggie shakily crept towards her bed, a feeling of nausea overwhelming her as she climbed under the bed covers and allowed her eyes to flutter shut.
It was past 1am. A raging thunder storm rumbled outside. Flashes of bright yellow lightening crackled across the blackened sky. Maggie turned in her bed, grasping at her spare pillow and then suddenly her eyes snapped opened as a loud clap of thunder exploded outside. Her breathing started to become erratic as she sat up in bed, her hands running through her brown locks shakily.
She gave an frustrated sigh and looked over at the small alarm clock on her dresser, noticing the time. "Just great" she grumbled.
Her eyes then narrowed in confusion as they landed on the wardrobe. Both the doors were wide opened. Frantically she reached over to switch on the small lamp and gasped in panic as she saw the small box having been toppled over. The contents inside were now missing.
Adrenaline pumped through her body as she sprang to her feet, throwing the bed covers off her quickly. Her head jerked towards her bedroom door as she heard a small click as though the door was being opened. Her breath caught in her throat as the door creaked opened. She half expected to see him in the doorway, but to her relief he wasn't. However, that didn't ease her worries. Just where the fuck was her father's glove and hat?
Prudently Maggie marched forward out of her bedroom, knowing all too well she was dreaming. She couldn't explain how, but she somehow knew. She felt it. Her pace slowed down as she approached the entrance to the kitchen, as if something was luring her there. Her feet froze as she stood in the doorway, hearing a small scratching sound. Her eyes peered into the darkened room and she then lifted her right hand to switch on the light. But before she could touch the light switch, the bulb flickered on of its own accord just at the same time another flash of lightening erupted from outside.
For a mere second a silhouette of a man appeared behind her and then in a blink of an eye was gone.
Maggie tensed suddenly and craned her neck over her shoulder as if sensing someones presence, then wisely shook it off. She had to keep her wits about her. Not let her mind, let this fucking dream play tricks on her.
When she turned her attention back to the kitchen she finally saw it. Her father's fedora hat, sitting in the middle of her kitchen table. The source of the scratching sound was coming from it, well actually underneath it.
Maggie took a deep breath and lurched forward to snatch the hat from the table, her eyes widening in terror at her father's glove staring up at her. She swallowed hard in dread. The blades were actually moving, the tips of the steel digging in lightly against the surface of the wood. As her fear overpowered her she took a small step backwards, but then she grew still. The blades of the claw had ceased its movements and then slowly twisted around. The index blade then began to curl back and forward, as if it was beckoning her forward.
Maggie shivered and as if she was entranced by the glove, she gradually began to step forward. The power of the glove was too much to ignore.
From directly behind Maggie, a shadow shifted in the darkened living room and deftly moved towards her.
Maggie's pensive gaze was still set upon the glove as it continued to summon her towards it. Then suddenly it turned again, spraying its blades wide threateningly and then grew still.
A dark, malevolent whisper chuckle erupted from all around and soon a coarse voice leered from the darkness behind her.
"Princess..."
Maggie whimpered and her body tight with fear. It just couldn't be true. He couldn't be in her dreams, it was impossible!
Slowly, she started to twist around towards the living room until she saw the bladed claw begin to twitch and then it sprang to life, lunging towards her…
Maggie screamed as she shot up in bed, gripping the sheets tautly and frantically checked her night clothes. Nothing was ripped, there was no wounds. Nothing. Just a dream, a stupid fucking dream! She looked at her alarm clock. It was 3.14am. She sighed and threw her bed clothes off of her and went over to the wardrobe and flung opened the doors. The box was untouched, exactly where she put it.
She laughed crazily to herself. She was losing her mind, slowly but surely she was. Knowing that she couldn't possibly go back to sleep she walked out of her bedroom and made her way towards her kitchen. She flipped on the light and was about to pass the kitchen table when something caught her eye. Her body shivered, her face going a deathly shade of white as there in the middle of the kitchen table were four long scratches…
