Authors Note: So, I turn 18 in about three hours. I will be a legal, full fledged adult, with all the lovely, adult like responsibilities that come with it. I'll be able to vote, buy cigarettes, lotto tickets, and porn. Guess which one I'm most exited about?
Thats right.
Lotto tickets.
Anywho, I thought I'd write myself a bit of an early birthday present, or give a gift to all you folks out there who celebrate Yule. So, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and Happy Solstice all!
Also, all bits of what-the-fuckery of this chapter are due to a slightly severe dream I had involving Krueger and a bottle of ketchup. The rest is history.
Nancy forced her eyes open, ignoring the feeling of blood dripping into her nostrils. One eye, it seemed, was glued shut with dried blood and eye gunk, and no amount of eyebrow tugging was going to force it open. She looked around with her good eye, swiveling it downwards to look at her feet.
Or, upwards, since she was hanging, once again, by her feet, this time in chains. Her arms were bound, preventing her from scratching her nose, or, god forbid, peeling the gunk off of her eye.
She wiggled her feet, realizing not so merrily that one of her shoes was missing.
Her eye slid over her feet, down her chest bound in chains, then back to her bare foot.
Suddenly, her eye widened, registering the fact that something was really, very wrong there, and maybe she should start screaming soon, because where she had five toes on her foot earlier, there were four toes now.
"YOU ATE MY TOE, YOU RAT BASTARD!" She wailed, not particularly caring if cannibalism was the actual fate of her dear beloved toe, but it was the principle of the matter, and he cut off her fucking toe how dare he.
She heard footsteps down below, and swiveled her good, teary eye at the noisemaker.
Figment looked up at her with pity. "Meeting didn't go so well, I take it?"
She swung there, in chains, looking down at him with blood, tears, and snot streaming into her hair.
"He ate my toe." She mumbled, rolling her eye up to look at her dismembered foot in horror and confusion.
"No, he didn't. You're delirious."
She looked at him with hope shining in her bloodshot, cloudy blue eye. "So my toes not gone?" Her voice cracked like the pages of an old, dry book.
Figment glared. "Of course it's gone. But he didn't eat it, you crazy bitch."
"Oh." Her lip quivered, and she tried to wiggle her fingers. From where she was hanging, she could see the coldest part of the boiler room, cool and blue, dust motes flickering lazily, waiting for her to return to their stagnation. If she swiveled the other way, she could see the fires raging, licking at every surface and roaring their discontent, hot water steaming and dripping on the dirty concrete.
She stretched her arms as far as she could, chain links biting into her flesh with no sensation. She began to struggle briefly. Soon she gave up, looking down at the man-shaped creature below her.
"A little help, please?"
He looked up at her, splaying his hands apart in a 'what can I do?' gesture.
"Smoke and mirrors, bitch. I'm nothing without you."
"Ah. Well, then, isn't that nice? I'm just gonna swing here until that toe thieving bastard butchers another batch of innocent kids?"
"Unless you can find a way out of the mess you got yourself into, that's exactly what the fuck I'm saying."
"I got myself into?"
"You're the one who went off and got all buddy buddy with him, Nancy. You're going to risk everything we've done for you!" He roared, slashing his claws through the air. They both tried to ignore the sounds of screaming, a wailing that filled the boiler room like a scalded cat, intruding in Nancy's mind like a needle. She fought back against it, yelling at the figment below her.
"Well, if you want me to know what to do, you're going to have to explain the goddamn situation, asshole!"
They both paused, seething. It was clear now to Nancy that something larger than her was happening, something that she didn't exactly want to face. She wasn't sure where she stood in the game that was afoot; was she a lethal knight or a pawn to be sacrificed?
Either way, she was chained to the ceiling, at the mercy of a blade wielding nut job with a thirst for human appendages that did absolutely nothing to him.
She shut her eye, breathing harshly through her nose. She cracked it open, focusing in on the chains she found herself in, feeling with her fingertips, pushing against them, feeling for weak spots.
A few minutes later, she conceded defeat with a grunt of anger.
"Ten points for creativity, Krueger," she mumbled, shutting her eye until the toe eating bastard reemerged.
Let me say it again; he had a bottle of ketchup. What did you think I ment?
Also, I found a book that startled me out of my Freddy related writers block: Wes Cravens New Nightmare, by David Bergantino. Its a film novelization, and not a bad one! I'd recomend it to any Freddy fans out there... Or to anyone with a sick sense of humor, really.
Also, should I write you all a christmas fic? I've been thinking so...
Review, please? If only to tell me happy birthday... :D Seriously. Reviews are like little gifts I must click to unwrap.
