The look on his burnt face brought her some clarity. A sickeningly sweet smile to make her feel better, safe, caring. Ugh she hated him.

"Then talk." She hissed, fumbling with the sleeve of her sweater, staring him down defiantly. He didn't have the upper hand. She wouldn't let him have it. She'd sooner die than give into his perverse power, the god of this dream realm was her and her alone. She was her own master. This was after all her dream.

"Oh come now, princess~ don't be so cold towards you dear ol' Freddy~" his gloved hand reached out to her and before she could move it had gripped her by the arm. In the same place as he'd cut her the year before. Only this time there was no pain. No blood, only pressure. Only the sweet, tingling pressure of a strong grip around her arm. The arm that had shrunk, withered away over the last year.

After her mother had passed, her appetite had gone away, twisted into nothingness with cigarettes and caffeine. And her body had followed. Using up all the energy it could get from her infrequent meals and what little she consumed to do all it could to keep her alive. Bones jutting out in places they shouldn't.

His grip loosened as he looked at her. Piercing eyes softening as he gave her a small smile, moving his other hand to touch hers, as he pulled her small arm up to his face. Sniffing the traces of nicotine and smoke, letting out an annoyed sigh. "You should really stop doing that. You don't even smell like my little Nancy anymore~"

Had he not held her by his clawed fingers she might've tried to fight, but it would be a futile attempt now that he had her in his grasp. She knew he wouldn't let her go now. Knew there was nothing for her to do except listen to his poisonous words.

"I don't care." She whispered, averting her eyes to the ground. Hoping to god she'd just wake up before he- she felt a soft, warm wetness on her fingers and her eyes snapped in his direction. A pale pink tongue had slithered from between his burnt lips to lick over her fingers, small and gentle kisses pressed over each fingertip.

All she wanted to do was scream, push him away but she didn't have the strength. Didn't have the willpower to force her body to listen. But her eyes burned into his face, a hateful and angry stare, deadly.

"Don't you fucking-" he cut her off with a slap to the face. It seemed Krueger didn't enjoy it when she talked back, dared to speak out of turn and swear at him. Funny, since last time he'd seemed to like it. At least enough to joke around about it.

That was the past though, and in the present, she moved her free hand to grasp at her face, touch the stinging flesh, searing red from the sudden contact. She refused to look at him, refused to show weakness despite the pain. It would do nothing but satisfy him, give him some feeling of sick twisted gratification. And she hated it. Hated how deep down she was curious about it. Curious to see his face.

The pressure on her arm was soon lifted, as he took his gloved hand and placed it on the small of her back, pulling her closer. Sharp claws threatening to cut open her sweater as they tapped on her back. This time she didn't say anything, just let him hold her in his arms in a sick embrace, face buried in his striped sweater. A garment that had haunted her dreams since she'd first seen it in her nightmares.

"That's a good girl~" a bare hand came to rest between her shoulder blades, caressing her protruding spine as she tried her best not to sob. It was hard. Being held so lovingly by a man who wanted nothing more than to kill her. Rip out her heart and eat it.

Or so she thought at least. Since Friday, he hadn't seemed as hell bent on revenge. At least not in the way she had imagined. "Please don't —" she whimpered, arms limp by her sides, too weak to fight him, push him off.

But he liked that. He'd liked it when she couldn't fight him, like when she'd been little. Oh so little. It made her want to vomit but it made him so happy.

The gloved hand moved lower, tracing the outline of her hipbone through her clothes, body pressing harder against her. It was vile, repulsive. And she did not enjoy it. She didn't enjoy it. She didn't want him to touch her so gently, so sweetly and lovingly. Because she knew he was a monster. She knew he could only hurt her.

Lower and lower it went, scratching over the waistband of her jeans before she could stop it. A small tearing sound echoed in her mind as the fabric was cut off her body, but it hadn't been the jeans. He'd decided to start with her sweater, a long gash through the soft knit, a cold gust of wind kissing her back as it slowly peeled away, exposing her bare upper half.

The demon stepped away for a moment to finish the job, pulling the ruined garment off her as she stood there motionless. Frozen in shock.

As her body was exposed to him her fingers tensed, eyes full of loathing and disgust. She was so angry, angry that his eyes ate her up, visually licking her skin. Eating up the sight of her small breasts, round and lifeless from the year she'd had, perched over row after row of ribs. His bare hand moving out to caress the sunken in waist, over her sharp hip, fingers digging into anemic flesh.

She shivered and sighed, desperate to get out of his grasp. All he did was chuckle fondly, a deep and grating sound to her eardrums as he leaned closer, tongue flicking out to lick along the length of her neck as she cringed away.

"Please… stop —" she whimpered as the claws grazed over her left breast, careful as to not pierce the taut skin. The other moved lower, sliding between the fabric of her jeans and underwear, caressing over her rear.

Her eyes squeezed shut as he groped what little meat was left on her, greedy eyes moving over her body, fingers dipping lower, between the curves of her ass, rubbing over her tailbone before he shifted his hand to the front, running a rough, burnt fingertip down the slit of her labia. Gently toying with the small pearl of nerves at the top.

Another whimper escaped her as she tried to push him away, managing to get her hands to his chest before those horrid fingers delved into her. The thumb of his clawed hand rubbing over a hard, dusty pink nipple as he slowly moved his digits within her.

Frail hands grabbed and clutched onto him, trying her best not to moan at the disgusting wave of pleasure that tore through her. It was horrible, that she was enjoying the way that monster touched her, but it hadn't been the first time he'd done it. Every time she'd touched herself in the last year, he'd been right there with her. Even though it was imagination, he was there, touching her, kissing her body. Eating her soul.

Not too long after he withdrew his hand, holding it to his lips as he licked his fingers clean. "A little piece of heaven~" he groaned out, pressing his hips against her, letting her feel just how much he was enjoying this. Torturing her, violating her dreams.

She couldn't escape. Even in her waking moments, he was there. There was no escape. All she could do, was submit.

Sink into the ocean of shame and misery. Sin and pleasure—