First out of three. The parody of the parody of Nightmare on Elm. Street (Nightmare on Evergreen Terrance is now just a bunch of nightmares. It already was, but no one said anything about it).


Gino and Maggie grinned and skipped as the butterflies increased in number over their heads. When he looked at Maggie, the lilies bloomed, the birds sang, and he no longer wanted to kill the bugs. When he looked at Maggie, the world wasn't so bad anymore. He was happy.

Gino leaned in for the kiss.

She kissed back. Or, he thought she did. He didn't know what a kiss was like yet. The butterflies danced around them a forgotten tango, meant only for the eyes of children to see. They withdrew, the butterflies still dancing around them.

Maggie's hair flew in the breeze they were making. She was still smiling, though Gino got worried.

Shouldn't-eh butterflies be done already? We had our moment, it is done, why are they still here?

His smile faded as the butterflies turned blacker than night, engulfing the toddlers in their cocoon. Maggie was still smiling dreamily, as if none of this was happening.

Gino grabbed her hand, trying to run out of the mini-tornado. When he attempted to run, she held him in place. "Maggie?"

Her face twisted into a snarl as her body grew into a giant spider. The ground beneath them broke, and they all fell . . . into a spider's web. Gino shrieked when the butterflies fell as well into the web, some sticking, some melting into it. Maggie started eating the ones that were stuck.

Unreal amounts of blood came out as Maggie bit into the them, some of the droplets landing on Gino.

He screamed again when she started getting closer to him, eating the bugs one-by-one. He got his senses together and untangled himself from the web.

Though easier said than done, he managed to free himself when the spider's back was turned. The ceiling was still open, leading to Gino's freedom and cover. He used the sticky web as a ladder, climbing up.

His foot got caught on a melted butterfly, and a shoe came off when he pulled hard enough.

Maggie looked up. "No!" Her voice had changed from a high-pitched tone to a whispered growl.

She grabbed his ankle with her claw, ripping skin and drawing blood. He cried out from the pain, and let go, falling past the spider and ripping the braces on the net. He screamed, falling into complete darkness, away from the light.

Gino screamed again when Stephanie shook him up. "Gino? Kid, you woke us all up. That was a pretty intense nightmare, huh?" She was holding Maggie in her arms, someone Gino really didn't want to see right now.

Everyone else was in the hut, staring at him. Gino realized he was shivering, but not from the chill outside. Marge picked him up in her arms. "Its fine now, sweetie. It was just a—holy mother of Homer, what happened to your ankle?!"

He looked down.

His right ankle had four long, bleeding scratches on it.

So it WASN'T a nightmare

Gino shrugged. "I might have lashed out a few times, I guess."

Mel sighed. "Well, it was just a nightmare. Nothing that can physically hurt you at all. Do you want me to wrap those?" he gestured to the wounds.

"No graci."

"Are you sure?"

"Si."

"Alright then. I suggest for now we all go back to bed. I want to wrap those tomorrow at least, in case of an infection." He turned and left.

Isabella gave Gino a reassuring smile, and left with Stephanie. She smiled too. "Try to have better dreams from now on."


They were all gone except for Marge and Cecil. She smiled. "I guess you may want to be put down now."

"No! Er, I mean—can you stay? For a few minutes?"

Cecil's eyes popped out of his head. "I don't think that would be a good idea. She's tired, and-"

"Why not? You feel too awkward around me?"

He blushed. "I can hold a grudge for an unreasonable amount of time, so yes." The top hammock swayed as he got on. "You can take the bottom one then. It'll be easier getting in and out."

"I don't know if I want to stay for that lon-"

Gino's puppy eyes got the better of her.

"Aw, you already know how to make the puppy face? Alright then." She set him on the ground, balancing herself on the hammock.

Marge held out her arms. Gino let himself be picked up and laid beside her.

Like momma would do. I miss them.

He snuggled up against her, thankful for the warmth on this chilly night.


I got back into my room, still holding Maggie. She had fallen asleep on me, something that doesn't happen too often now that she has her BFF and BBFE (from what Azure's told me, "Best Boyfriend Ever"). I laid her down on her side of the bed, and laid on mine.

Our beds sort of look like two palm-leaf couches pushed against each other at a 90 degree angle. One bed is pushed up against a corner of one wall, the other's pushed up against the other corner next to the first one. There's a third bed meant for Izzy across the room, but mom takes it since she sleeps with Cecil.

Though she came back in here with us.

"Did Maggie have any nightmares? Never-mind, she's not screaming or wincing. I'll be with Cecil, if they don't mind."

"Why would they mind?" I tucked the covers up to Maggie's head.

"Because three is already a crowd. I don't want to make it four."

"I'm sure Cecil wouldn't mind his favorite girl spending another night with him." I took a sip of coconut milk (Mel's working on getting us fresh water, it takes a lot of digging and time—I will never drink any kind of milk ever again, after two weeks of it on here).

"But he and Marge are already in bed together."

Once again, I think Izzy's parents did something serious to her. Maybe they fed her coconut milk instead of water or apple juice, or something like that.

I spit-took and burst out laughing. "No! No, my mom's already married! And seriously? Her and Cecil Terwilliger?"

"When we left, she was climbing into the bottom bunk."

"Was Cecil in it too?"

"No. He was on the top bunk."

"Well, there ya go. Why don't you three talk it out yourselves?"

"I was, but you wouldn't stop talking." She left as I rolled my eyes.

I crawled into bed, pulling the covers over my head, blocking out any light that may have come in from the moon. And, ever so slowly, I drifted off, asleep.


(If you've ever watched Once Upon A Time, (ABC) you may want to imagine the forest at the beginning of each episode as the setting in here)

I was in a forest. Not a jungle—a forest, with huge trees that reached beyond the sky. Or, there was a mist coating blocking off the sky. It looked like night time, though there was still enough light to see what was ahead of me.

And what was ahead of me was sort of creepy.

There was a man about fifty feet away from me, dressed in a headhunter's clothing. Or another witchdoctor. He had on a mask with huge (stupid—even in a dream, I said this out loud) red feathers; the mask looked like one of those really old masks you see on the History Channel.

Or in Oddities.

He was just standing there, looking at me. I had the sudden urge to run from the feeling—like I was trapped. I felt as though someone was behind me too, coming closer with each silent step.

And yet I couldn't turn around. The witchdoctor had me in what felt like a trance. His eyes (the black ones from the mask) were hypnotizing, I didn't—

A twig snapped from behind me. I broke out of the trance and ran like Homer for the last donut. I heard him—it—them coming after me, the wolves coming for a kill (It's my dream, I don't care how descriptive I am, no one's here to make fun of me).

Finally, like in every horror movie, I tripped over a tree root. I squirmed around, wanting to face my attackers and at least put up a fight before waking up.

But nothing was there.

I sat there gasping, looking everywhere. Then I looked up. The mist above me was stirred (someone obviously went through it), and I got up immediately.

The woods were now silent except for the rustle above me; whatever they are were definitely up there in the trees. I raced away from that tree, placing my back against another and listening to them.

They hadn't (that I heard) moved away.

I ran to another tree, going back-to-back on that one too. I ran for another. And another. And another. The sound was now gone entirely; there wasn't another sound in there aside from my beating heart and breathing.

I looked down at the tree I was leaning against. I learned from Lisa and all of those hikes mom and her made us go on that moss always grows on the north side of a tree, and this moss was facing the direction I was about to run anyway. So I sprinted for another tree, this one about four feet from me.

They attacked from above.

The creatures tackled me to the ground as I began screaming at the top of my lungs and as high as my voice would go. One of their mask mouths opened, and it bit me on the wrist. Though this was supposed to be a dream—nightmare now—the pain was excruciating. The other leaned over me, reaching his outstretched arms for my neck—

"Stephanie! Stephanie!"

I woke up, still screaming. Mom was shaking me violently. I tore her hands off of me, got up, and squeezed my wrist. In was throbbing and bleeding.

Mel took it as I began to cry.


"Mel, they both woke up bleeding. There is no possible way both of them could have hurt themselves in their nightmares. The mind refuses to let you hurt yourself like that, it has to be something else-"

"What? What else could it be?"

"Maybe our witchdoctor came back?" Cecil regretted the words as soon as they came out.

"Of course! It has to be! Gino was the one who stuck a needle in his rump and found the dolls! Stephanie was the frozen one! And—dear lord—we were the ones he . . . attacked."

They both shuddered.

"Alright. Alright, say it is him. How did he come back here?"

Mel gave him a look. "How did he—you didn't get much sleep last night, did you?"

"With all that screaming and crying? No, I slept like a rock. Best night ever."

"Well, he isn't here in physical form. If he is, then he's hiding in a cave. But he attacked the children in their dreams, yes?"

"You aren't going to tell me he somehow used magic to come here in a spirit form, the most cliché-est horror movie villain plot ever, just to get revenge on the last people who screwed with him are you?"

"Well, I'm not now."

He rolled his eyes. "Listen. I'm tired. My nephew refuses to sleep, and he's in what his parents often refer to as "Melt-Down Mode." The same with Stephanie. We have dealt with it all day, and I'm tired. Good night." He raised his hands in defeat and walked out, grabbed a banana, and went to his hammock.

Mel sighed, laying his head in his arms. He was pretty tired too, having dealt with wrapping the wounds, inspecting them, searching for infections, and then applying salt water to help heal. It was only about eleven A.M.

He was exhausted.

Maybe just rest my eyes for a few minutes. I just need a few minutes.


Marge sighed with relief when she saw the table and clearing ahead. She had spent a good deal of the morning picking wild-berries in the deeper part of the jungle (where they were untouched by humans) for lunch. She had asked Stephanie if she wanted to go, but had been answered with a hateful glare.

She and Gino had stayed in her hut the entire day. Gino didn't even want to go butterfly hunting with Maggie; he had said she and butterflies had a large part in his nightmare.

Isabella had gone butterfly hunting with Maggie.

Marge sighed again when she set down the berries, sitting down herself. She placed her head in her hands, lying them down on the table.

So tired . . . that's odd, I'm used to housework and exorcise.

Poor Gino and Stephanie. He was so scared last night after waking up.

That was the first time I saw Steph cry since she was five, when that other kid had stolen her Malibu Stacy doll.

Tired . . . .

Her eyes shut.


Isabella and Maggie laughed as they ran, the butterflies increasing in number in their nets. Izzy stopped for a moment, taking in a breath. She was getting tired.

The bugs flew out of her net as Maggie approached. "Are you *yawn* OK?"

"Yeah . . . just so tired." She wore a weak grin.

"Same here. Maybe we should be gettin—oooh," They both fell to the ground, asleep.


Gino and I had stayed in my hut. It wasn't often that I was ever scared, but if I had really been turned into a zombie, and if voodoo exists . . . What I saw was a witchdoctor. Or, two. Two whatever-they-weres.

We had sat down on my bed. He climbed into my lap, lying his head on the crook of my arm. I was used to Maggie (and only when I'm in a good mood), not four-year-olds, sleeping on me. However, he went directly into the description of his dream.

I told him mine.

We laid there, talking about the similarities that came in both our dreams.

"I really don't know anything that happened in both dreams," I said, "I guess we were both in forests when we were attacked."

"I suppose. Maybe it has something to do with our fears? Papa always told me, attack your brother from fear."

"No, that wouldn't work. Bart doesn't scare easily when it comes to your dad. You need to attack him from his weakest point: sacrifice. He used to know this one girl, Mary Spuckler, one of Cletus's children. Ask your dad, he'll know who I'm talking about. Though when we went to New York, she ran away again. Yeah, never-mind. But you might have something on that fear thing."

"Si. It attacked me through Maggie and butterflies. I like her, but I hate butterflies. Something I love and hate."

"Alright. I hate most everything about a jungle at night and being hunted down by weird undead savages . . . I loved nothing about the dream that they used."

"Alright then, nothing you loved. Maybe since you were already turned into a zombie, it…hates…you?"

I gave him a look. "Why? I've already suffered. What did I ever do, I was a zombie the entire time!"

He rolled over. "There is no need to be mean. It was just a suggestion."

"Yeah, I know. I'm sorry, I guess." I yawned. "But we need to stay awake. Those things were gonna snap my neck and put it on a ceremonial stick, or whatever they call it."

He laughed, then grew serious. "And Maggie was going to eat me alive, like the butterflies." He yawned.

"Exactly. We need to *yawn* stay awake. We need to have a plan. We need—need sleep." My eyes shut as he began to snore softly.


The entire island was silent. No birds chirped. No monkeys moved. No wind rustled the palm tree leaves. There were no fish in the lagoon, or ants crawling along the sand. Even the ocean had seemed to lie still, as if in an eternal sleep. As if all of them were.

Mel had fallen off his chair onto the sand, moaning and kicking like a dog would do while dreaming.

Cecil was swiping his hands, as if to ward off a fly. Or something else. His nose was bleeding, bruises forming quickly on his arms.

Marge, like Mel, had fallen off of her chair. She was shaking her head, whimpering and raking sand into small piles with her fingernails.

Isabella and Maggie had fallen on top of each other, both deathly still and pale.

Stephanie and Gino were still in each other's embrace, clutching each other now. Gino had tears running down his face. Stephanie held him tighter still.

There was no life on the island anymore, aside from the vegetation. Everything and one was sleeping now, covering the island in a blanket of hush.


Mel was still on the island. Sort of. He was tied upside down from an oak tree, his arms behind his back. He was kicking the air as creatures, much like those from Stephanie's dream, asked him questions in tongue he did not understand. When they were answered by "gibberish," they poked his belly, swaying him back and forth on the string. He yelled out in anguish as the one with long fingernails pushed him away with its thumb.

Cecil was running through the island's forest. He kept swatting the mosquitoes away, desperately trying to kill before they bit him. As a child, Cecil had already been fragile, and had too many allergies. However, mosquitoes were his worst enemy. That's one reason why they had moved away from London in the first place, though Springfield wasn't much better at all. Already, his nose had started to bleed from the allergens, and he had forming bruises on his arms from the fragility the bites were causing him and the forests' low tree branches.

Marge's worst nightmare had come true. She wasn't anywhere. Just in a glass box. There was no room outside. No wide-range land. Just whiteness, pure white. Inside the box was three-feet deep dust-bunnies, of which she desperately tried to shy away from, digging herself a "clean" tunnel. Her OCD self made her do so. The dust caught up to her nails, resting inside them. Marge started screaming, though no sound came out.

Isabella and Maggie weren't anywhere in the dream-world. It was simple. They would wake up with no recollection of their absence from this world or the unconscious nightmares because they no longer existed. Their souls, bodies, all gone. Nothing remained of them because nothing left was in existence. They were nowhere, yet everywhere. Even if somebody had found the butterfly field, they would not see the bodies of the two girls. They would perhaps see dents in the grass from where two objects that now cease to exist were. But no more.

Stephanie and Gino were outside a prison cell. This was possibly the best yet worst fate they could have; Sideshow Bob was in there, laughing. Everything was too normal however, despite the jail setting. Almost like this was real. Francesca was in there too, lying on her side. She sighed. "Will you shut-a up?! I am-uh tryin' to read!" Her Italian accent was strong in her scream. Even Stephanie winced from her.

Bob settled his manic laughter to a crazed giggle.

She clenched her teeth and fists, setting down the novel. "I. Said. Shut. Up."

Stephanie looked away. She couldn't speak, she tried, and instead grabbed Gino's arm as his parents started fighting-fighting. Gino was silently bawling, no sound protruding from either one of them. Not even footsteps.

Like ghosts. They were like ghosts.

No one even saw them as guards raced past to the jail cell. Gino cried harder when he saw one of them holding a taser. He was tough. He had been his entire life, inheriting it from both sides of the family. But having been departed from your family for two and a half weeks made you miss them dearly, and you imagine your reunion to be a little happier than seeing both of your parents in jail fighting violently.

Stephanie, on the other hand, wanted out. She knew what was going on. Maybe it was a dream. Maybe it wasn't. It didn't matter, she was killing this thing from the heart.

Out the door they went, into the blinding sun.


I shut my eyes as something other than the sun blinded my view. I covered Gino, who was currently bawling in the silence we came here in.

The wave of light passed, and I opened my eyes. We were in the Springfield Elementary School's playground. I tried to talk, since I could now hear Gino bawling.

It worked. "Gino? You still with me?"

He wiped his eyes, sniffing. "We need to come back! They tried to kill Bart again!"

"It's alright. We can worry about that later, OK? Because right now I think we're about to die, unless we kill this thing first."

He nodded, getting it together.

I felt really bad for him, I did, but we were probably going to die. I hoped not, because I got a plan when I saw the sandbox, grass clippings, and garden hose. I grinned.

As soon as we were done, you couldn't see the sandbox anymore. It was completely covered by the grass, and was currently drenched by a butt load of water.

The thing came out from behind the hedge, once again a Maggie-spider. Gino cried out, taken by surprise. I hoped not fear.

I got behind the sandbox, picking up Gino. The spider stood still, staring at me. I made sure not to look in its eyes this time. Finally, it roared and ran/crawled to us.

I started running as well, looking ahead. I stopped at the chained fence as the spider-thingie began to sink into the quicksand. It screamed and lashed out at us, the legs stretching just a few inches short in front of our faces. It then changed forms—into our be-hated witch doctor.

Gino gritted his teeth, watching with a sort of satisfaction as he sank deeper and deeper into the mud, until eventually his hand was the only thing showing. It made a thumbs-up as it sank as well.


...

They all woke up at the same time. All except for Maggie and Izzy, who were back in existence, running home. Keyword there is "home."

Mel gasped and sat up, his eyes wide open. They were filled with tears as he staggered outside, whimpering.

Cecil fell out of his hammock, already having tears running down his face. He ran out to the clearing.

Marge didn't waste a moment; she started frantically picking sand out from under her fingernails.

Stephanie and Gino both got up, laughing and crying at the same time.

Everyone went around, hugging and reassuring each other that it was over.

It was over now.

Over now . . .

Sideshow Bob woke up, a gasp on his lips. He put his fist in his mouth, rolling over on the bed. Francesca woke up.

"Another bad-a dream, Roberto?"

"Si, yes. Horrific nightmare. It…was about the others again."

She sat up. "Cletus and his cousins? Did they at least have their coveralls on this time?"

"No, no! Gino and the others."

She drew in a shaky breath. "Roberto. We agreed on this. You are not to talk about them until they come back."

"I know, I know. I won't. Let us try to back into the sweet embrace of a welcoming sleep, shall we?"

She sighed but took his advice, shutting her eyes.


Kang and Kodos laughed from space.

"Puny earthlings!" Kang said, "They suffer from dreams which are bad while we are watching their every move, taking over by these "bad influences."

"Watching their every move."

"Like that squirrel-shaped cloud that always appears in the background of each chapter of their lives."

Kodos pressed a red button, revealing me—er, the cloud, in the monitor.

The narrator pressed a button as well, turning the computer screen—yours and theirs—to grey fizz.


...

You read NOTHING! You saw NOTHING!

Next chapter won't be as dark, I promise. I must admit, while readng back over this, this was very different from what I usually write. I kind of like it, but I'll save the horror for FictionPress. Next chapter . . . will come soon.