Disclaimer: Wes Craven owns NMOES *exhales sharply* I don't own shiitake.

The phone finally rang.

We all sighed with relief and Taryn picked it up.

"Dr. Gordon?"

"Taryn?"

"You've got to come to the hospital straight away. Kristen—she, she had a total meltdown. Simms doped her up and put her in the quiet room. She can't stay awake for long. She's all alone in there. Freddy's going to get to her." Taryn rambled on, biting her nails.

"Don't panic. Help is on the way."

"Just hurry!"

Taryn hung up and began pacing the room with a cigarette in hand. Will was sitting in his wheelchair, hands folded in his lap. Kincaid was touching the black spot on the wall where the TV used to be. I stood with my arms folded over my chest. Phillip stood close by, leaning against the wall, sighing exasperatedly.

Nancy burst through the door.

"Where have you been? We've been going crazy!" Taryn burst.

"Shh!" Nancy hushed her. "There's no time. Come on."

"Where?"

We all followed Nancy out of the room and into the hall, towards the quiet room.

"Our last group."

A/N: yup, I love it! Tell me if you do too! Or if you don't! And if you don't, explain why please. Not trying to be beotch-y; more or so hoping for pointers in future stories.