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Chapter 10
After about 5 minutes, Dean had given up. He couldn't fall asleep, not under these conditions, not under this pressure. He let out a low sigh, slowly opening his eyes as he sat upwards.
"Sam, this isn't going to work."
There was no response. The room was desolate, a chilly breeze running from corner to corner of the paint-diluted walls. Dean got off of his bed, scanning the room for any sign of Sam. He decided to check the bathroom. Walking over to it he knocked on the door.
"Sam, you in there?"
He opened the door. The sink was dripping, and the floral-print shower curtain hung over the side of tub, but no Sam. He disappointedly shut the door. He noticed the bright headlights shining thorough the sheer curtains. He walked over to the front door and turned the knob. When he opened the door, his eyes grew wide. Instead of seeing the slightly crack asphalt parking lot, there were large cement columns and boilers that blew steam every couple of seconds. It seemed that the outside of the motel had turned into a large factory. He step onto the drizzled platform, shutting the door behind him. He walked down the metal stairs, holding a tight grip on the railing.
"Sam…are you here? Michael?"
C'mon where are you guys?
Suddenly he heard a loud yell, and then a cry for help. Dean ran towards the direction it was coming from. He turned the corner, almost slipping on the drizzled floor. He came to a row of nine gray, run-down lockers. Noticing that the one on the end was slightly ajar, he walked towards it, slowly reaching out his hand to swing it open. Wrapping his fingers around the side he flung it open. Michael sat curled up into a ball, his head tucked in his lap. He shivered with anxiety, letting a small whimper escape his lips. Dean lightly tapped him on the shoulder, making the teen flinch with fear.
"It's okay Michael, it's me…Dean." He said, stretching out his arm to help the boy up.
"Dean, thank God you're here. We got to find a way out of here, Freddy is…"
The echo of evil laughter stopped Michael mid-sentence. Dean grabbed Michael's arm in one hand and took out a 9mm in the other.
"Stay close." Dean whispered back to him. The two boys walked down the hall, constantly looking behind their backs as they progressed. The clanking of pipes was slowly driving them insane, making them more paranoid by the minute. They came to the metal staircase that Dean had just recently used before. They started their ascent, putting each foot down slowly so they wouldn't draw any attention to whoever else was in the factory.
"Okay, the exit is at the top of these stairs." Dean said with reassurance. When they arrived at the top, the door that he had come through vanished. He let go of Michael's arm, knocking on the cold concrete where the door used to be.
"They door was right here!" Dean said, his voice loud with vexation.
"That's what happened to me before. He changes the surroundings to whatever he wants. You can't trust anything in here."
Dean paused himself at the comment, letting it sink into his mind.
Can't trust anything…or anyone.
He raised the 9mm to Michael's porcelain, white face. The boy raised one eyebrow with question. "What are you doing Dean?"
Dean flicked the barrel back with his finger, letting a bullet fall into the firing chamber. "Can't trust anything…right?"
"Whoa, Dean it's me….Michael. Don't do this." Michael said, his eyes pleading with Dean's.
"How do I know your not Freddy?" Dean questioned.
"Well, how do I know your not?"
"Good point. Look I guess we'll have to just trust each other."
"Deal. The only way we can get out of here is if we wake up."
" Sam is watching us back at the motel, he'll wake us up when I get Freddy. But first I have to get you out of here." Dean said.
While walking back down the metal stairs, they heard a another loud yell. It was close, yet almost inaudible. Michael shot a glance at Dean.
"What was that?"
"I-I don't know. You mean that wasn't you who yelled a while ago?"
"Nope, wasn't me. I was hiding in that locker for the past half-hour." Michael replied.
Dean watched a cloud of steam come out from one of the boilers, revealing an outline of a man's body with the glove that has its razor-blade claws spread.
"C'mon lets go!" Dean said, running in the opposite direction. Michael followed closely behind him, but he lost his footing and slipped on the wet pavement. When he got up, Dean was gone.
"Dean? Dean where are you?"
He heard a small creak behind one of the steel doors. Cautiously, he moved toward it.
"D-Dean…is that you?" He said again, lifting the handle of the door.
A hand quickly pulled him inside with one swift movement. It was dark and the sound of leaky pipes filled the room. Michael threw out his hands to feel whatever was close to him. Finally after a couple of minutes he felt the cold steel latch of the huge door. When he pulled at it, it didn't budge. He tried again with a little more force. He let out a small cry, feeling the sharp edge tear away at his flesh. He felt a hand on his shoulder again, feeling the warm breath upon his neck.
"Gotcha." Freddy said, letting a grin form on his lips.
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Dean slowed down to catch his breath, slightly bending over and putting his hands on his knees. He had found a different part of the factory he didn't recognize.
"Hey Michael I think we should……Michael?" Dean said, turning his head to look behind him.
Damn it, I told him to stay close!
Dean backtracked his way through the factory, searching for any sign of Michael. He heard a cracking sound from behind a large door. He held up his gun, cautiously gripping the handle. He cracked the door open and peeked inside. The room was dimly lit with three little girls in white dresses jump roping inside. He opened the door all the way and stepped in the room, shutting the door behind him.
The girls stopped immediately and began to stare at him. He hid the gun behind his back.
"Hi there, uh you haven't seen a boy run through here have ya?"
The three girls smiled all at once, then continued with their game, this time singing a childhood nursery rhyme.
"One, two, Freddy's coming for you. Three, four, better lock your door. Five, six, grab your crucifix. Seven, eight, gonna stay up late. Nine, ten, never sleep again…".
Dean slowly back up and felt for the handle of the door. Realizing it was there he turned around the face the concrete wall where the door had just been. When he turned back the three little girls were gone, making him feel a little more at ease. He saw a door opposite to him slowly open, a dark figure slowly coming in from the outside. Dean sneakily walked up behind the tall figure, throwing his arm around it's neck and swinging it to the floor. He bent down to get a closer look.
"Ouch Dean, could you get off of me please?"
Dean recognize the voice, slowly getting off of the man. "Sam?"
Sam rose to his feet, rubbing his head. "Yeah?"
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"I don't know, I was watching you guys sleep then I went to the bathroom. When I came back, you guys were gone. So I went to open the door to the parking lot, it was a huge factory instead."
Dean punched Sam in the arm, causing him to wince in pain. " Ow! what the hell was that for?"
"You fell asleep! Now how do we get out of here?"
"I think I know another way out, follow me."
Sam led the way through the factory, Dean following closely at his heels. Dean noticed that there was something different about Sam. He let Michael's words reenter his mind.
You can't trust anything…or anyone.
"Hey Sam?"
"Yeah Dean?"
"Do you remember when we were kids we would always eat frosted flakes for breakfast? cause they were your favorite."
"Uh yeah Dean, what does that have to do with anything?" Sam questioned.
"Do you remember that I would I always give you the prize out of the box? even though I really wanted to keep it."
"Yes Dean I remember, why are you bringing this up?"
Dean took his gun a whipped it across the back of his brother's head, sending him crashing to the ground. Dean got on top of him, holding him down by the collar of his shirt.
"What are you doing Dean?" Sam yelled
"Lucky Charms."
"What?"
"Lucky charms was you favorite cereal, not frosted flakes."
"Oh c'mon… Dean that's an honest mistake."
"You would always give the prize to me."
"Dean, there is a lot of things I don't remember when we were kids. Where are you going with this?"
Dean noticed the red and green striped sweater underneath his brother's collared-shirt.
"Your not my brother."
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