Disclaimer: Freddy you've been nibbling on my brain again. While I do own that, I don't own you. But I do own Frankie. So if you want to play with her you have to pay me. In sexual favors, or chocolate…or both at the same time. You're talented, you can figure that out Mr. Dream Demon.
Authors Note: Well, I got inspired. I was gonna hold off on having this go down until later… But I felt the need and the nibble of Freddy and had to have a little taste here. I'm actually pleased with how this chapter turned out. And it's a long one.
Holy shit, I've got 122 reviews! Keep them coming. I like knowing you guys are reading and that's the only consistent way I know you are. So enjoy…Freddy's back.
Chapter 10
Frankie was sitting on her bed, still holding the ragged piece of sweater. Dani had overheard most of everything and was now pacing back and forth in her bedroom chewing the last bit of her thumb nail off. "I can't believe you never told me any of this shit. And I can't believe you are actually going to do this. Are you insane? I mean Frankie, come on. Those kids have to be on something."
Daniela's voice was pitched higher than normal but it couldn't cut through the fog that had enveloped Frankie. She ran the pad of her thumb over the fabric again, replaying what Nancy had said in her brain. She'd brought it out of her dream when he'd attacked her. She'd shown Frankie the ragged wounds on her arm from the glove. The description had triggered the memory of the drawing in the van. Ninja warfare…not quite, but Fred it seemed had found another use for it.
"I have to do it Dani. You don't understand…" Frankie's voice was far away.
"No I don't understand! This is going to go bad Frankie. Very bad, and you are going to wind up hurt or worse. Haven't you been through enough?" Daniela flopped down heavily next to her, avoiding the duffle bag that Frankie had packed quickly.
Frankie turned to her friend. Her eyes were tired, red rimmed. But she had a look of determination in her gaze. "Have you ever loved someone enough to do anything for them?" She asked Dani softly.
Daniela swallowed the lump in her throat, her own eyes tearing up. "Yeah, but Frankie…he's gone."
"Maybe he is…maybe he isn't. But I have to know Dani, I have to know." She glanced down at the piece of sweater. "I wasn't there when he needed me…but I'm here now. And if all this crazy shit is true..." She let out a shuddering breath. "Then maybe I can see him again."
Daniela's eyes widened. "Frankie…you saw her arm. You heard what they said. If this is true you don't want this guy to see you again."
Frankie shook her head. "You heard what they said too Dani. He's not come to me…"
"That's a good thing Frankie." Daniela touched her arm. "You don't want to be a part of this."
Frankie stood up. "If he's not going to come to me, then I'm going to come to him." She grabbed her bag, sliding it onto her shoulder. She placed the tattered piece of sweater in her pocket. Daniela's face was pale as she looked up at her. Frankie gave her a sad smile. "I'm already a part of this Dani. I always have been."
"Frankie please don't do this…" Dani grabbed her wrist, begging her not to leave. She loved her friend and she knew if she walked out that door the odds were she'd never see her again.
"Dani…you didn't know Freddy." Frankie sighed and glanced away for a moment. "He was always there when I needed him to be. He was the one good thing I ever had back then. And now…now if these kids are right…I don't know what he's become. If there's something I can do to help him I have to try. And those kids out there, I think they've been through enough." Frankie's face grew hard. "Quentin wasn't the one who threw the fire bomb…Nancy wasn't the one who started the rumor. They shouldn't have to be the ones who pay for what happened." She looked back at Dani, giving her hand a squeeze, that same sad smile coming back to her face. "It's time I faced my demons I suppose."
With that she let go of her hand and headed out her bedroom door. Nancy and Quentin stood in the living room, both of them looking worse for wear. Dani followed Frankie, glaring at the two teenagers. Her words were icy. "You've dragged her into this. Anything happens to her it's on your heads."
Nancy didn't say anything and Quentin looked down at the floor unable to meet her eyes. Frankie turned back to her roomie and shook her head. "I'll see you in a few." She told her.
Daniela fought back tears as she hugged Frankie goodbye. "Just be careful." She told her.
After another second they let go and Frankie turned to Quentin. "Give me the keys to your car nimrod. I'm not letting you drive me anywhere the way you look." She held out her hand and Quentin, with a glare, handed his keys over.
Frankie was surprised how she remembered the way back to Springwood so perfectly. She'd not driven it in over ten years, but it came to her like second nature. As she got closer to the town she felt her hands tighten on the steering wheel of Quentin's jeep. The signs were familiar…the farms on either side of the highway….it was still all the same.
Quentin sat in the backseat, refusing to sleep even though he desperately needed it. Instead he had on a pair of oversized headphones and was listening to his IPod so loudly that Frankie could make out every lyric that Robert Smith sung clearly from the front of the car. He was reading an Alan Moore Swamp Thing comic by the glow of the MP3 player's screen.
Nancy sat in the passenger seat. Frankie had put in a Tom Waits CD and was murmuring along to the raspy tune of love gone wrong. Nancy seemed to be staring down accusatorily at the car's cigarette lighter every so often. Finally the younger woman looked over at Frankie. "Why did you agree to help us?" She asked her.
Frankie looked at her briefly, picking up the 48 ounce massive Diet Mtn. Dew she'd been drinking for the last ten miles and taking a sip from the straw. "I'm not just helping you." She answered her.
"You want to help him." The girl's voice wasn't accusatory, just stating a fact. "But what if you can't?"
"Then I'll cross that bridge when I come to it." Frankie's eyes were back on the road. "I'm still not a hundred percent convinced you two aren't loony tunes. So don't get excited yet."
Nancy actually gave her a very tiny smile. "I remember you…" she said softly.
Frankie let out a short laugh. "Yeah, I remember you too. Picasso."
Nancy glanced away for a moment, the small fading. "Picasso…" she muttered under her breath, the name triggering something, a memory maybe.
"You always were a messy kid. But you were really good for how young you were. Do you still draw?" Frankie looked at Nancy who held up one of her hands nails facing out. There was the unmistakable stain of black around and under her nails from charcoal and ink. Frankie laughed again. "Yep, still messy."
They passed the Welcome to Springwood sign at right around 9am. Frankie wondered what the kids parents were going to say about them being gone for so long. Then she decided she didn't really give a damn what those people would say about anything.
The minute she drove past the sign Frankie felt a chill go down her spine, a sense of déjà vu coming over her. She'd never wanted to come back here…As the sun streamed down and she watched what should have been familiar store fronts and buildings go past, Frankie's sense of déjà vu turned into something else.
It was a bizarre detachment from this town which had been her home, her birthplace. It was familiar, she recognized places, names of streets, but it didn't feel like home. It felt alien, she was detached from it. There was no longer a connection between Frankie and this place. Time, hatred, and loss had eroded it away to nothing. It was now simply a town that she knew her way around.
"So I guess I need a place to crash." She said more to herself than anyone else. Frankie realized too suddenly that she had no idea where her father was. Was he even alive? Did he even live here anymore? God she didn't want to run into him, and there was no fucking way she was going to his house. Before Nancy could say anything Frankie asked "Is the motel still on Franklin?"
Nancy nodded. "Yes, it's still in pretty good shape."
Frankie gave her a rueful smile. "I figured you guys are going to have enough to explain without having to answer why there's a strange woman crashing on your couch."
Nancy rolled her dark eyes. "I doubt my mom would care. But Quentin's dad is…high strung."
Frankie made a sound in the back of throat at the thought of Alan Smith. It sounded like a gagging growl. She turned back to the road. "I'll drive to the motel and check in. You guys go deal with your parents. I'll give you my cell number and you can call me when your ready to do whatever the hell it is we're doing here."
Nancy leaned back in her seat when she saw Quentin was nearly asleep. She popped him on the shoulder and he took off his headphones, his eyes wide. "What…what's going on?"
"Frankie's going to the motel to check in. We need to go home and make up our cover story." Nancy explained calmly.
Quentin nodded a bit dazed.
Frankie shook her head at his cluelessness, and the obvious need he had to please Nancy. Anyone could tell the kid had it bad for her. Frankie sighed, running her fingers through her hair. She suddenly felt very old. Glancing up almost as an afterthought she turned down Franklin Street and pulled into the parking lot of the Sleep Inn Motel.
The paint job with its green and red color scheme made her very aware of the piece of sweater in her pocket and the reason she'd decided to come on this crazy trip. She put the jeep in park and peered into the dusty windowed office. Mr. Barris had to be in his 80's now, but there he sat as always in his button up shirt and black, thick framed glasses watching the same fifty year old television. He'd owned the place for as long as Frankie had been alive, and probably longer than that.
She got out of the drivers seat and snagged her bag from the back of the Jeep. She turned to Quentin who'd taken her place behind the wheel. "You've got my cell number and I've got both of yours. Call me if anything happens. I'll give you a call later regardless."
Quentin nodded, his eyes looking even more bloodshot. Nancy leaned over his arm. "Thank you Frankie." She said, that same grave voice…far too tired and old to be coming from such a young woman.
Frankie gave her a half smile. "Don't thank me yet kid." She said and then turned to walk through the door of the office. She glanced over to see Quentin pulling out into the street. She hoped he didn't fall asleep at the wheel.
Mr. Barris gave her only a brief glance when she checked in. He either didn't remember her from the three or four times they had met, or she'd not aged well over the last thirteen years. She paid with cash and signed a fake name. Thankfully the Sleep Inn was old enough and cheap enough they didn't care about incidentals or possible destruction of a room. There was really nothing in it that could be hurt.
The room was tacky 1960's and she was floored by the amount of orange that had been used on the walls and the threadbare carpet. It reeked of PineSol and starch, so even though the room looked like vomit, it at least smelled clean. The TV was only a bit newer than the one Mr. Barris had been watching. Frankie was glad she'd brought her IPhone. There was no chance of Wi-Fi here.
She tossed her bag on the scratched and chipped dresser. She pulled out her little travel bag of toiletries and headed into the bathroom. After what amounted to the world's longest pee, brushing her teeth and cleaning her face she went back into the bedroom and changed into a pair of loose fitting sweats and a baggy faded South Park t-shirt.
She was tired. Driving all night had not been easy, and the caffeine was wearing off. Add to that the emotional rollercoaster she was going through and Frankie simply wanted to curl up into a ball and simply close her eyes.
She yawned and snagging her phone she programmed the alarm to go off at around five pm. She was going to get at least six hours of sleep before she had to face anything else that day. Frankie slid into the stiff sheets and pulled the thin comforter over her head. Of course she couldn't go directly to sleep. The minute she tried things started popping up right and left in her brain. Memories; Freddy, Springwood, and the kids…images and feelings started bombarding her. Things that she had forced back so far that she'd made herself not remember in years bubbled to the surface.
She turned onto her back and pulling the blanket away stared up at the ceiling. "Damn it Frankie…go to sleep, this is not helping." She muttered to herself. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, closing her eyes. Finally after a few minutes she felt herself drifting off.
The park was lovely. It was twilight, real twilight with the sky turning to a mixture of purple and blue. Summer twilight was always so beautiful. The air was scented with a mixture of lavender and sweet grass. Frankie watched from a wrought iron bench as two little girls skipped rope in pastel dresses, their long hair bouncing in perfect shimmers of blonde.
She looked down at what she was wearing. For some reason she was surprised to find herself in a white summer dress, thin straps over her shoulders. She touched the soft cotton of the skirt and smiled.
"Frankie…Frankie…come play with us!" A voice said and she turned to see little Chris holding out a hand to her. Frankie took it, and was pulled to her feet. She followed the girl to a small group of other children all playing hide and seek it looked like.
Those that had been found were standing in the middle, all saying nursery rhymes. Chris suddenly let go of her hand. "I found you! You have to stay here!" She said pointing to the group, then she ran off. Frankie watched her go, feeling like there was something she should remember.
"She found you." A voice said next to her ear. "So you have to stay."
Frankie turned and there was Freddy, smiling at her. A stray lock of brown hair hung in front of his turquoise eyes. He was wearing his button down shirt and khaki's. She suddenly felt like crying.
"I…I was looking for you." She told him.
"I've been here." He told her, reaching up to touch her cheek.
The children's voices were suddenly in a chorus of rhymes surrounding them. The sound was eerie, resonant. It echoed in the open park as though coming from everywhere. "The cow jumped over the moon." "Little boy blue…" "To fetch a pail of water."
The voices remained but Frankie realized that the children were no longer there. It was only she and Freddy now standing in the empty park, the fog of voices their only companions.
He peered at her, his smile sad now. "I've been waiting." He said, pulling her into his arms.
Frankie placed her hands against his chest. He was cold. It registered in her sleeping mind that there was no heartbeat beneath her palm. But she didn't care. He was here. He was here with her. He wasn't supposed to be here…she knew that too. Frankie leaned up and kissed him very softly. His lips were cold too, chilled enough to cause a shiver to run down her spine but she wasn't scared. When she pulled back Frankie knew she was crying. "I've missed you." She told him, not afraid, but knowing she should be.
The voices were still there, and their stories were now changed…the rhymes weren't as innocent, the stories not the same happy endings as they should have. Jack and Jill's tumble didn't end but they fell forever. Peter put his wife in a pumpkin shell and then he ate her till his stomach swell.
Twisted rhymes but she still wasn't afraid, even when he lifted his hand to wipe away her tear and there was a razor sharp blade against her cheek resting against her skin, the tear slid onto the tip of the blade easily. Freddy was staring into her eyes, his gaze unwavering, the sharp steel not leaving even a mark, simply resting there like a caress.
Frankie met his gaze with her own. "Can we jump over the moon…" she asked him her voice becoming so similar to the formless children's chorus.
"And bleed forever…" He promised and kissed her again.
Frankie sat up with a jerk, the blankets and sheets tangled about her. Her alarm was ringing out like a banshee. She grabbed the phone and pressed the touch screen to shut it up. She was breathing heavily. That had been the first time she'd dreamed about him…in forever. And god damn it she was crying again. She wiped at her cheek irritated. Then she realized her fingers felt sticky. She looked down and saw not the sheen of tears but the crimson of blood.
Quentin had fallen asleep at last. And Freddy had him…he had him dead to rights, or at least nearly dead. He was wandering through the factory terrified as he found each and every body that belonged to the same kids he'd grown up with. Every little Judas, or nearly everyone. Freddy watched from the shadows, the revenge sweet on the air like the scent of summer flowers.
That scent...
Quentin was coming near him now…and soon he'd watch the boys pale face grow even whiter as his blood and life left him in a red torrent over his blades. Those blades against pale skin…and blue eyes…
Pale eyes…
Freddy turned as he felt something pulling at him. Pulling at him and causing the unfamiliar yet very familiar sensation of pain. "I was looking for you." A voice said, barely discernable over the sound of steam and the pipes dripping. His bladed fingers twitched. That voice, soft and welcome…so…soft…
"No…no…not you." He murmured, his voice far from soft. Rough, decimated by flames and smoke, he knew nothing of softness anymore. Only loud screams…sharp edges…heat and fire. There was no softness…but there it was. He could feel soft lips against his, just for a moment.
That moment was all Quentin needed to bring himself awake. Freddy felt it when the boy disappeared from his realm, out of reach once again. He turned away from the voice and snarled at the now empty spot the boy had been standing. Freddy's ungloved left hand slammed angrily onto a pipe, denting the metal.
"I missed you." The voice spoke again. Words he'd never heard, from a voice he'd tried to forget. Pain…more pain…more wanting…not for screams but for this. He wanted this. It warred with the desire for bloodshed, for vengeance. There was no room for this voice, no more room for this pain. There was already too much pain. They needed to bleed… But not her, she needed to go. She wasn't supposed to be here. She needed to wake up.
She wasn't a part of his dream. Not anymore. But his little Judas's needed to pay "And bleed forever."