I DON'T OWN ANYTHING NOES

Death trilogy p.1

Freddy: I get to kill.

You get to kill for a bunch of chapter straight, yes

Freddy: What about sex

I haven't decided yet.

Freddy: Bitch, are you cock blocking me!

I had no idea you even knew that word...

The idiot was still asleep in mind and body. She tried to pull one over on him the previous not, the bitch. She thought she could win, ha, what a laugh.

"I keep my promises," he mocked lightly in a high girly voice, "Dumb bitch."

At her bedside, he could see through his dusty little screen the silhouette of that little virgin, Cory. Dozing off on the edge of the bed, with her hand in Angels.

Grumbling at the bond between the two, he wanted more then anything to shred the girl to pieces.

By the looks of it, he would. Smirking as she slowly dozed, he ripped her into his world, running out of his home to the boiler room. Like a child on Christmas morning, he was out in the boiler, happier then ever.

"Ready or not here I come," his voice echoed through out the dream world, sending his prey in a running frenzy in every which way possible. Hearing her painting breath, he spun around a corner, arms out at his sides to grab her if she tried to run past. "Boo!..." he toned in his gravely voice, a shriek destroying his eardrums for a moment. "Damn those are some lungs!"

Cackling, he watched her frantic little body scrambling, falling, crawling, desperately away from him, never getting too far and always in sight of his demonic eyes- lust filled, and needing. "Run, run, run, little piggy," he snickered, closing the distance, "The big bad wolf is going to blow you down."

Reaching her, he brushed a claw on her arm, sending a wave of heat through her tiny little body. Screaming in agony as the four long gashes gushed a great pool of blood, hot sticky, and stinging the wound as the liquid mixed with her sweat. Still the bitch kept running, arm limp at her side. "Get away, get away," she shrieked.

"Sorry dear," her reached out with his other hand taking hold of her hair and ripping her down on the ground, "I can't do that." Whimpering beneath him she tugged her arms around her chest, "Please no." Chuckling a low maniacal sign of amusement, he ripped her back up onto her feet by her hair sending a shrill scream to cut the heated air around them. "Oh, but my little piggy, you are going to serve a great purpose," he mused dragging his claw down her cheek, leaving a hot path behind it. Sniveling, her cheeks turned a bright pink, scrunching up, as her eyes watered up against her will. "Leave me alone," she stammered, trying to catch her breath from the hard run.

"Aw, but you haven't even heard my side of things," he toned in a low gravely cooing, throwing her against a wall. A soft pop sounding from her shoulder as it made full contact with the metal. Screeching, he walked with purpose and utter self-confidence toward her body, "You see I am quite close to an outstanding accomplishment." Bending down in front of her on his haunches, she shuddered immediately looking away from him. He couldn't help but look her over; she was wearing a button up and boy shorts. Not at all the proper dress for a girl with a body like hers.

"What the hell are you talking about," she snapped at him. Her heart was racing in her chest, breathing erratic, and her hands began to push violently on her chest. "You freak," she screamed pushing free from his hold with a sharp punch to the ribs. Bowing over for only a second, heaving in all the air he could, he was back on her tale. Laughing as if nothing had happened, he had his hand around her throat with in a matter of minutes; her sharp nails scratching at his dead fingers. A laugh that could have shaken the fabric of time, Rattled the metal around them- intensified by her growing light headed ness.

Her shoulder- out of its socket- ached; her arm was screaming from the cuts; her cheek was crying from the long line that split it; and worst of all her neck was slowly going numb from the intense pressure on it. Wheezing and sucking in short little breaths, she tried to kick back at his body, but her erratic movements only made things worse as she heard small popping noises in her neck.

"As I was saying, before you rudely interrupted," he sneered, breathing just behind her ear. Grip tightening, he began to feel her wind pipe give; still her hands were tearing apart his hands. Raising his gloved hand in front of her, he began to make little cuts along her arm, sending her body into frenzy of convulsions. Trying to scream, all that came out with short breaths; and satisfied, Freddy continued.

"You will be my ticket, out of here," he whispered in her ear. Eyes wide, as she began to choke on her own breath, another pop sounded as her head began to tilt backwards. "You get to be one of my final victims to send me back to the waking world," he snickered lightly, as her eyes tried to look back at him- stuck with fear and desperation. "You should be honored to die for such a cause, rather than the alcohol poisoning you probably would have suffered from," he chuckled watching her eyes role back into her head a stream of blood pooling out of her mouth.

With one final squeeze, a gigantic POP sounded, echoing about the room as her head folded backwards. Repulsed, he threw her quickly across the room. Body folding awkwardly on the floor in a pool of blood, he eyed it tentatively. Just a few more was all he needed; and then he would be rid of his confinement, rid of everything. He could not turn back time, but he could set the world right- by his definition of course. Everyone would pay.

Strolling over to his kill, he cocked his head to the side, kicking her bruised broken body. She looked like a doll, a tiny little marionette, that he ripped the strings from and snapped all of the joints. "Such a rude bitch," he muttered, rolling her head to the side to see it better with the side of his boot. "She didn't even thank me," he grumbled walking away from the disgusting little pig, "to think, I saved her from a pointless death."

Xxxxxx

He wanted to see her face, wanted to see her cry when she knew, and wanted to see how much it was going to break her. At the same time, he really did not want to see her again, those eyes, and those hideously entrancing eyes. "Stupid bitch," he muttered walking aimlessly through the confines of his boiler room. She gave him the opportunity to become real, to kill, and now made her self completely vulnerable to him. "I'll destroy you," he promised, all he wanted was for her to feel the pain he felt, feel the rage and anger he had when looking at her, he wanted her to pay for everything.

Tipping his hat down, he disappeared into a sea of black, only to reappear in the corner of his own home. The TV was on in the other room; he could here the sound of nurses running around frantically. The body must have put up quite a show with all of the chasing that the two had gone through together. Chuckling his insidious amusement, he began to strut out from his dark corner into the room with the TV so he could put image to sound.

Cory's body was slumped in the corner, obviously propped up by the numerous doctors around her. It was hysterical, she was in a room with a coma patient, how did it happen, did the coma patient miraculously wake up and gain back all of her strength in a minute, choke her then go back to the way she was before. They were baffled, running about like headless chickens, trying to find a stretcher, examining the wounds, the marks. He wondered if it was like this for every kill he had done. Laughing aloud, crossing his arms, and leaning back a moment, he felt invigorated. For the first time in ages he was close to returning, and this madness was just an extra bonus.

Suddenly how ever, an image filtered to screen that made him pause. From the door a tall dark figure moved in, rushing and pushing past all the doctors and nurses to Cory. Nando. He bent down before Cory, Tears in his eyes, brushing her cheek, and mumbling some incoherent nonsense. Suddenly turning from her, he looked back in desperation at his comatose friend on life support. The boy had nothing, poor thing. Freddy could solve that of course; a devilish smile filtering to his scared face as his thin lips cracked as the moved outward.

It was beautiful, everything was broken, and everything was as it should have been. Freddy had his town again; and soon he would own it completely- in day and night.

Struck out of his trance he heard a small clicking behind him. It was hallowed and sounded as if it was more of a tap then anything. Frozen in place he waited, in the stiff and thick silence. "Angel," he said in a gruff but soothing voice, "what are you doing, my Angel."

Silence and then moments later another tap; but this time the tap seemed to hit something more cushioned. Ready to turn, a small whizzing flung up behind him, almost hitting his head before he dove away. Shattering against the wall, he saw a glass rain down on the ground like a deadly storm. Growling, he spun around, ready to dodge at her and ring her neck. Freezing when he saw her eyes, he couldn't help but notice her eyes, filled to the brim with tears that clouded the shattered soul beneath. "Bitch," he shouted, taking a step forward. To busy locking eyes with her, he hardly noticed the object flying at his head.

Between the eyes, cool leather smacked the bridge of his nose, bending upward to perform a second assault on his for head. The fuck was that? Loosing his balance as his hat flew freely from his head; his body flipped down over the coffee table, sending it tipping over with him. Shell shocked, he hit the floor with a loud thud, ascending into darkness with a low groan.

Everything black, his weary eyes slowly began to open, clearing the mist that hazed his vision. "Fucking Bitch," he breathed, looking around that the mess. His legs resting on the overturned table, glasses and papers strewn about him, and right beside his head the assault weapon, he rolled his eyes about the room, picking himself up to look around. The fuck did she throw at him? Taking a second look beside him, his eyes narrowed and locked on what had hit him- leaving a bright red mark from his nose up to his forehead, and a small cut on the bridge of his nose.

That Goddamn book lay open beside him.

Mocking him.

Taunting him.

Haunting him.