(I'm baaaaaaack! Didja miss me? Of course you did!
Dear Readers, I want to apologize for the length of time that has gone by without an update. Things have been very crazy for me. I know I say that every other Author's Note but this time it especially was crazy. I had a death in the family in November and during that same month there was a film project that I had to do with a group that started out with four members, including me, which suddenly became only two members so I had to coordinate film times, direct, edit and act in it I also had to find volunteers to act in it as well. Final Exams were murder especially with my two jobs vying for my presence. And I will be graduating college in two semesters! Whoot! Whoot!
I want to thank you for your reviews and the favorites and the follows. It really is encouraging. I'd like to thank the following people for their reviews: duchessofbooks, Xx High By The Beach, ZabuzasGirl, SideshowJazz1, DTO, T.S. Quint, Darkness Takes Over, twin2, DynamicCheetah, Scarlett Siren, Onitsu Blackfeather, Wishmaster 17, Ravenclaw992, and TheBrokenGoddess. Thank you all.)
[Song Suggestions for this chapter: Listen to 'The Asylum' by Jay Ferguson when Marv finds himself alone in the garage. Or 'The Meeting' by Ólafur Arnalds.]
Chapter Eight
Escargot
"Reality is wrong. Dreams are for real." ~ Tupac Shakur
Thursday Evening
Someone was gripping her forearms. Freddy still had her! Valerie wildly thrashed about until she realized the hands weren't holding her down they were shaking her. And she heard her name being shouted by a comfortingly familiar voice.
"Wake up, Valerie!"
Her big green eyes flew open and she stopped screaming. Everything snapped into focus. She was no longer in the boiler room with Krueger. She was in her dorm room and Isabelle was clutching her forearms, worry on the edge of panic etched upon her face.
"Val?"
"Am I awake?"
"I don't know let's check." Isabelle gave Valerie's cheek a harsh pinch. "Does that hurt?"
"Ouch!"
"I guess you're awake then," Isabelle replied frostily.
"What the heck, Izzy!"
"What the heck yourself, Val! You scared me half to death screaming like that. I thought someone was murdering you in here!"
Valerie glanced at their shared bathroom door to see it wide open in Isabelle's haste to get inside. "I'm sorry," she apologized and rubbed her aching cheek. "I-."
"Yeah, yeah. I know," her friend sighed, patting Valerie's leg.
A series of rapid knocks on Valerie's door made them both jump. Valerie groaned. "I probably have half the dormitory outside my room." She pulled the bed sheets over her head, mortified.
Isabelle answered the door and explained to the crowd of students and a frazzled Officer Dalton that the screams were the result of a doozy of a nightmare. It didn't take long for the crowd to disperse. The moment the door was closed, Valerie peeked out from under the sheets, bringing them to a stop just to the tip of her nose. Isabelle had a very stern expression on her face. "Why, Grandmother, what loud screams you have," she deadpanned.
"I said I was sorry," Valerie squeaked, not daring to bring down her flimsy barrier against the full brunt of Isabelle's glare.
"Uh-huh." She folded her arms over her chest. "Talk."
"Huh?"
"Don't you, 'huh' me, Valerie Loraine Snider."
Dang, Izzy gonna be a great mom one day. "It's just a nightmare." Valerie began to sit up when she inhaled sharply at the shooting pain down her spine.
Isabelle hurried forward and didn't wait for permission to lift Valerie's shirt from her back. "Holy cranberries, Val! What is this!"
"What does it look like?" Valerie asked seriously.
"Like…Like a serious burn. When did this happen?"
Valerie remained quiet. What could she say? If she told the truth-.
"Valerie, you answer me right now. This is the second time you've been injured in your sleep and both times a nightmare was involved."
"Izzy-."
"This all started when you brought those articles to your room. What's going on?"
"I wish I knew," Valerie sobbed.
The anger disappeared from Isabelle. She sighed and stood up. She walked towards her room. "I've got a bottle of Aloe and some honey we can use for that burn. Then you tell me what's been going on."
Valerie didn't object. But she was confused as to why Isabelle mentioned the use of honey for her burns.
…
5:00 PM
"Marv! Get up, you lazy slug, and get to work! Now!"
Marv rolled his eyes but got up from the chair in the break room anyway. His break wasn't for another two hours but why couldn't he just rest for a moment? Twenty minutes of sitting around wasn't hurting anyone. Besides, his mind hadn't really been on work at all since he showed up at his uncle's car garage. His thoughts kept straying to earlier in the afternoon when he'd overheard Valerie's dream and then he'd think about the things his cousin had told him about that crazy Halloween night back in 2003.
It was really weird how similar Valerie's description of her nightmare man corresponded to the other girl's dream about a man with finger knives. No, it was a glove with knives on the fingers. That's what Valerie said.
When he had told her the name he thought he remembered his cousin telling him Valerie had looked about ready to faint. What was that about? Besides, he wasn't completely sure if he had gotten the name right. Fred sounded right but it could have been Ted. Or maybe even Frank. No. Fred sounded right.
"Marv! Get your head out of your butt and get to work!" his uncle yelled.
Marv donned a pair of thick gloves and moved on. He had a car engine waiting for him. As he worked, he began to think about his recent break up with Isabelle. They'd been dating for a year and now she was dumping him? Marv violently tightened a bolt.
He was willing to bet anything that Kevin had something to do with their break up. Kevin and Isabelle had been spending more time together to work on that stupid film project and things must have happened.
Marv snarled to himself as he roughly handled the engine parts. Some of the other mechanics threw curious and annoyed glances at him but didn't ask questions. This suited him just fine because if someone did they would receive a punch in the face as an answer.
….
Isabelle was just finishing up applying Aloe on Valerie's burns as her friend concluded her story. "And then Krueger pushed me against the pipes and I woke up." Isabelle quietly contemplated the story as she squeezed some honey onto a clean wash rag and lightly dabbed it onto the worst of the burns. "Mind explaining why you're putting honey on my skin?" Valerie couldn't help but ask.
"Honey is a natural antibiotic, so it'll keep the burns from becoming infected. And since it has a natural pH balance that makes it inhospitable to bacteria it will kill any existing bacteria or infection that might have gotten on your skin."
"Well aren't you just a walking remedy encyclopedia."
"I dabble in home remedies. Hobby."
"Sooo, no sleeping on my back tonight, huh?" Valerie tried to joke.
"Will you even be sleeping tonight after that nightmare?" Isabelle signaled that she was done and went to place the Aloe and honey bottles on the tiny sink counter then came back to sit on the bed next to Valerie. "Val, you're telling me that you got these injuries in your dreams."
Valerie closed her eyes and sighed. "I know how it sounds- oh belieeeve me, I do. But I can't think of any other explanation, Izzy. These dreams are so real when I'm having them." She attempted a shrug and winced at the movement. "I just can't explain it."
"But Frederick Krueger is dead. You said so yourself. The town lit him up like an outdoor barbeque forty years ago, right?"
"Right."
"Okay then; well, he can't be alive and hunting you in your dreams. I mean, that's like impossible."
"Then how do you explain these injuries?"
Isabelle's right index finger tapped against her knee for a moment, thinking. "What's it called… We learned it in psychology class earlier in the semester. It's when those women think they're pregnant when they're not but they trick their body into thinking it is and they actually show signs of being pregnant; even develop a descended belly."
"It's called pseudocyesis and this isn't a false pregnancy, Izzy!" She stood from the bed and glared at her. "I have burn marks on my back! Not some big belly! There is no way I could trick my mind into replicating burn marks!"
"You're willing to believe that a dead, burned up child murderer is hunting you in your dreams?"
"Until I find out otherwise, yes!"
"That's crazy talk, Valerie."
"You're not the one who woke up with bruises and burns, Isabelle!" Valerie realized her chest was heaving and she forced herself to calm down. Her gaze fell on the newspaper articles scattered on her desk. "I felt him, Izzy. Every time he touched me I felt him."
"If you're a lucid dreamer then yeah, of course you're going to feel him."
"But the markings-."
"Like I said, you've been so wrapped up in this report that your brain is tricking your body."
Valerie wanted to believe her friend. She wanted to believe her so badly because that would be the easiest thing to do. Just cast it aside as a couple of bad nightmares and write off the marks as a freak phenomenon. But the niggling feeling inside her just wouldn't let Valerie do that. Looking into Isabelle's eyes, she knew that Isabelle wasn't going to believe unless something drastic happened. But she knew her friend was concerned for her. Isabelle just wanted her to be okay.
Valerie swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. "You're right. You're right, I… I have gotten myself too engrossed in the project. I should take a step back from it for a few days."
Relief was evident on Isabelle's face. She gave Valerie's shoulders a squeeze and smiled. "Good idea." She stood there uncertainly for a brief moment. "Are you good to go back to sleep?"
Valerie's stomach churned at the idea but she offered a brittle smile. "Sure."
Nine, ten; never sleep again…
"Okay. I'm gonna turn in early. Had a really exerting day in gym."
"Sleep well."
"Sweet dreams."
Valerie waited until she heard Isabelle's own door close before she went to the mini-fridge and pulled out a coca-cola. She took a long swig and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She eyed the article that had Krueger's shadowed picture.
"I'm not taking any chances until I know more."
…..
7:00 PM
Marv worked his remaining two hours and, grumbling and muttering, and went back to the break room to take a nap. His shift didn't end until ten and he had to help close. His break was the last one scheduled so he knew no one else would be in the back room or come in while he was napping. Unless he was late and someone was sent to yell at him.
He stretched out on the lumpy, grease-stained old couch shoved against the wall next to the sink, refrigerator, and microwave. After squirming around to find a comfortable position he closed his eyes with a sigh. Things suddenly got very quiet. Screwing his face into a frown but not wanting to get up or open his eyes, Marv lay very still and listened. There were no muffled sounds of drills, engines or any others machines associated with a car garage.
"Just when I get comfortable," Marv muttered, pushing off of the couch to go investigate. He trudged towards the door and opened it. His brow furrowed.
The garage was empty. The entries for the cars were closed. The lights were dimmed. It looked like everyone had left for home. But the garage didn't close until ten and he had just lain down. He hadn't even had time to doze off. Or did he and the time get away from him and he'd been forgotten?
"Where's that stupid clock?"
He remembered the one in the break room and hurried back in. It was on the wall over the sink as usual. What was unusual was that it was blank. The second, minute, and hours hands were gone too. Marv clutched the edge of the sink. "What is this? Is this a joke? It's gotta be a joke."
He ran out of the room to the work floor and cupped his hands to his lips. "Hey, guys, knock it off!"
The guys were playing a prank on him and Marv couldn't stand it when people pulled pranks on him. It put him in a foul mood.
His anger began to boil when no one answered him. "All right then. Fine. I'm not taking any of this crap." He stormed towards the exit and jerked on the door knob. It didn't turn. Marv put his shoulder to it, thinking maybe the door had gotten stuck but it didn't budge.
"Looks like they all left without you."
Marv whirled around. Isabelle stood a few feet away, smiling at him like she was holding back a laugh. He glared. "I thought you didn't want to talk to me anymore."
She shrugged. "I might have been a little over-dramatic."
Marv snorted. "What are you doing here? And how did you get in? The doors are locked."
"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Isabelle said with a roll of her eyes. "Your uncle let me in just as he was leaving. I told him you and I needed to talk."
"Well maybe I'm not in the mood to talk, princess."
"Or maybe you're just being lazy; as always."
"I'm not lazy."
"You're a lazy slug is what you are, Marv Baldwin."
A thought occurred to him. "If they let you in, why didn't they keep the door unlocked? Now we can't get out."
"Actually, Marv, now you can't get out."
Marv's glare deepened. "They have you the key." Isabelle didn't answer. She just stood there with that secretive smile on her lips. "So that's the way you're gonna be, huh?" He stalked towards her, his anger growing by the minute. "Give it to me, Izzy."
She made no move to do so. She looked him in the eyes. "You were always a horrible boyfriend."
A snort of disgust escaped Marv. "You can talk! What kind of a girlfriend doesn't have sex with her boyfriend for a year!"
"You never listened to me. Unlike Kevin." At the mention of Kevin's name Marv went still. Isabelle smirked. "Kevin always listened to me when we talked."
"Well give the guy a freakin' medal."
"Actually I gave him something better."
The way she said those words, the way the corner of her mouth quirked up. Marv exploded. "You little slut! You whore! You slept with him! You wouldn't even let me grope you but you slept with him!"
"Even if you and I had slept together I'm positive Kevin would still be better than you."
Marv had never harmed Isabelle before, one of his few good qualities, but at this remark he snapped and back-handed her. Or at least he tried to. Isabelle caught his wrist just before he made contact with her face and gave it a sharp twist. A loud snap was heard and pain erupted in Marv's arm.
"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to hit girls?"
Marv's eyes widened. That voice didn't belong to Isabelle. It was to dark and guttural to be hers. He watched as Isabelle's body began to change into a horribly burnt man wearing a fedora and a red and green striped sweater.
"But then again, I'm not really a girl."
The man gave Marv's wrist another twist and brought Marv to his knees. Something glinted in the man's right hand. It was a glove with knives on the fingers. Fred! He's real!
"You. You're the one Valerie had that dream about," Marv gasped in pain.
"Surprise!" the man sang out then punched Marv's face.
Marv was propelled across the floor, banging into the metal sheet that closed off the car entries. The metal clanged loudly from the impact and a dent appeared. Marv cradled his limp arm close. "But-but you're a figment of her- her imagination," he spluttered, desperate to make sense of the situation.
Fred's knived hand tapped the side of his burnt head. "Hmm. Could a figment of imagination do this?"
A booted foot kicked Marv's face, effectively busting the nose. Fred laughed as Marv scrambled to his feet and tried to get around him. Fred grabbed a fist full of the back of Marv's shirt and heaved him headlong several feet towards the middle of the garage. Marv unsteadily rose and ran for the back room. Fred's eyes landed on a roller board and he used his foot to push it into Marv's path. Marv's left foot landed on it and he hurtled into a large tool cabinet. It toppled over, spilling tools of all kinds and creating a loud, metallic, headache inducing noise as Marv went down with it. Some of the sharp edges of the tools cut into his skin. Thin ribbons of blood dribbled down his skin.
A hand grabbed the back of Marv's collar and effortlessly lifted him from the mess. Marv's swollen eyes widened as much as possible when he was brought face to face with Fred. He couldn't help but cringe at how repulsive the man's face was.
A grin worked its way onto Fred's molten face. Disgusting teeth were revealed. "You slimy little slug."
Something began to work its way up Marv's throat. It tasted vile and had a sludge-like feel to it. It was clogging up his wind pipe! He reached up to his neck and felt a swollen lump traveling up. Marv coughed and a spray of slime exploded from his mouth, dotting Fred's face. More slime pumped its way up his throat and he hawked it up only for even more to block his airway. He couldn't breathe!
Fred laughed and tossed Marv away as if he weighed little more than a basket ball. Marv landed on his back and quickly turned over onto his hands and knees, hacking more slime. Fred's footsteps could barely be heard over Marv's coughs but even if he had heard Fred coming he couldn't have done anything. He was growing too weak from the lack of oxygen.
Fred kicked his stomach, forcing a spew of slime from Marv's mouth. He curled into a ball as another kick cracked his ribs. Over and over again Fred kicked him. Marv could only cough up more slime. His lungs were burning, his head pounded like it was about to explode and his vision was growing dark around the edges. He knew it was almost over. But Fred wasn't going to let Marv die by lack of oxygen. He used his foot to flip Marv onto his back and crouched down. He splayed his knives for Marv to see.
"Looks like it's escargot tonight."
Marv's screams came out as gurgles as Fred carved into him with his knives. Blood and slime mingled and poured from the wounds. There was no pattern; Fred just did as he pleased. Occasionally pulling an intestine up for Marv to see and then cutting it in two before his eyes. Just before Marv breathed his last, Fred sliced Marv's neck open; completely severing his head from his body.
….
Marv's uncle glanced around the garage and frowned. Marv's break had ended fifteen minutes ago and he wasn't back yet. Heaving a sigh, he marched towards the break room and sure enough, there was his nephew, fast asleep on the couch. His uncle barked out his name. "Get up and get back to work; break's over."
No movement. He walked further into the room and shoved his nephew's shoulder. "I said get u-."
Marv's head slid off his neck and tumbled to the floor. A glop of slime oozed from the corner of his parted mouth. Marv's uncle screamed.
(Well, there it is, folks! The first kill in the story! I hope that was worth the wait. If it wasn't, I'm sorry. Let me know what you thought. Until next time, Dear Readers! Peace out!)
