Disclaimer: This is all Wes Craven, people. All Wes Craven.
We were in the quiet room with Kristen, talking, when all of sudden, the padded walls were being slashed by his razor hand. The stuffing flew out of the walls, and I screamed.
In a flash, I was at the beach. It was dark, no one else was around and you could hear the sea animals jumping up and diving back into the water in the background.
I was sitting in the soft sand, my head down and eyes staring at the grains of whitish brown. I was alone. Totally prone to being brutally murdered.
Or so I thought. And just my luck, it was someone I didn't want to be alone with.
"Well, well . . . Look what we have here." His voice was dark and sinister. His footsteps were well announced, despite the soft material they strolled on.
I slowly looked up, shivering in fear.
His grin was something else entirely. His voice spoke evil, his presence itself was wicked. His grin, however, right before he sauntered toward me, was extremely malicious.
The hand that didn't have any razors—the left—clutched my neck and lifted me up. I gagged at the pressure being applied to my throat. He squeezed tighter, and I gagged again, desperate for oxygen.
I lifted my hands to try to pry his off of me; I sputtered, trying anything I could to get a breath in—anything to hold out just a little more longer. I felt lightheaded, and my hands stopped their struggle and fell to my sides. He let go, and threw me to the soft ground.
"Sea you later," he chuckled malevolently. He turned to walk away.
I lay there on the sand, choking up some sort of liquid that wasn't bile or blood or saliva. It was green, thick and frankly disgusting.
A violent sensation resonated throughout my body, and without thinking, the static happened and I was in a dark alleyway. It was illuminated by purple and pink fluorescents, and was foggy, and smelled of alcohol and marijuana, cocaine and heroin.
I heard struggled noises. I ambled forward, curiosity getting the better of me.
Freddy had Taryn up against the alley wall, and was spitting rude remarks at her.
"Taryn!" I screeched, jumping on Freddy. The sudden force caused both me and the serial killer to stumble backwards, allowing Taryn to breathe again. She threw me a knife and yelled something—I was too caught up in my own thoughts to really hear it.
My left hand clutched Freddy's rough throat, while the other held the knife. I stabbed Freddy repeatedly in the chest, near his heart, the blood spurting like lava from a volcano.
"Anabella!" Taryn screeched, running forward and prying me off Freddy.
Right before our very eyes, Freddy disappeared.
The awful feeling panged at my insides again, and I clutched Taryn's wrist; the static jolted through both of us and we were in a dark hallway illuminated by green light.
Nothing seemed out of place, except for the fact that it was quite a frightening place to be in.
"I don't believe in fairy tales," Freddy's voice came from the other end of the hall, and Taryn and I could only watch in horror as Freddy jammed his claw right into Will's chest repetitively.
Liquid spilled from under Will, and I knew that to be his blood.
I gagged and threw myself at the ground. Taryn screamed and I didn't even have a choice in the matter before we ended up in a boiler room.
A/N: In the first draft, both Phillip and Jennifer still died. Then again, the draft was written two years ago. I recently came back across it and really edited it. Then I decided that Phillip didn't die, Jennifer still did. Taryn still lived, but Will died this time (in the first draft, the character of Anabella had managed to save both Will and Taryn). It was a really rough decision as I'd already decided that Phillip lived, Jennifer died, and Taryn lived . . What was I going to do with Will? So yeah, killing Will off was sort of hard for me, because I love these characters so much!