(Welcome back, Dear Readers! Ready for more? By the way, I'm surprised no one made a comment about Dr. Robert being Robert Englund. Maybe I didn't convey that very well? Oh well.
In this chapter, things are about to take a turn that even I wasn't expecting until - *looks at laptop's clock* One minute ago. I hope you'll be intrigued. Enjoy!)
[Songs for Chapter Eleven]
~ "Sleep Like A Baby Tonight" by U2 (listen at the beginning)
~ "Nightmares" by All Time Low (listen whenever you want. This was practically playing on repeat as I wrote this chapter.)
~ "Dirty Little Secret" by All-American Rejects (listed as the song that Bianca and Isabelle are listening to in the car)
~ "Little Talks" by Of Monsters and Men (listen around the time that Isabelle and Bianca go to the library)
~ "Missing Pictures" by Steve Jablonsky from the 2010 remake of ANOES (listen when Isabelle and Bianca arrive at the house)
~ "Closing In" by Ruelle (listen during the hospital scene)
~ "Hungry Like the Wolf" by Hidden Citizens (listen during the part featuring Freddy)
Chapter Eleven
The Truth Will Set Him Free
"Even if you know you're sleeping, you're still at the mercy of your dreams. People who are asleep can't simply decide to wake up. Nightmares don't let you off that easily. They hold you in their clutches until they decide, in their own good time, to let you go."
~ Steven James, Blur
"Self-inflicted! You call yourself a doctor!" Kevin shouted.
"It's a plausible explanation," Dr. Robert spluttered, running a hand through his graying hair.
Kevin pointed at the window of the room where Valerie was being kept. "When could she have possibly done that to herself? We've all been watching her like a hawk since she fainted!"
Isabelle, Bianca, and Detective Hamilton had remained with her while he, Charlie, and Detective Rogers had rushed the doctor out the door for an explanation as to why words had suddenly appeared carved into Valerie's skin.
"I find that a bit difficult to swallow as well," Detective Rogers agreed with the younger men.
The doctor turned to Charlie. "You say she fainted suddenly, right? In all the confusion of trying to revive her and take her to a private room, did it occur to anyone to check for blood? She could have fainted as a result of blood loss."
"No way," Charlie argued. "We would have noticed blood on her when we were carrying her. There's no blood on any of us."
"Her denim jacket probably kept it from spreading."
"It would have soaked through by then!" Kevin snapped.
"How long was she by herself out in the lobby?" Dr. Robert asked the detective.
Rogers answered slowly, as if he weren't sold on the theory but could see what the doctor was getting at. "There was a moment when she went to the bathroom…"
Dr. Robert nodded. "There you have it."
"Valerie's not that kind of a girl. She'd never cut herself like that," Kevin insisted.
"You'd be surprised what people can do," the doctor said somberly.
Rogers glanced back at the window and ran a hand over his face. "We'll investigate this further, but for now, she needs to be under supervision." He walked away to enter the room and approached his partner. He took her off to the side and they began to converse in low tones.
Kevin never took his eyes from Dr. Robert's face, studying the man's expression as he watched the detectives. "You don't believe it. You're trying so hard to convince us, but you don't even believe it yourself."
Dr. Robert met Kevin's gaze and shook his head emphatically. "No, I do. I do believe it."
"You're lying. I saw your face when you got a look at those initials. You turned white. It meant something to you."
Dr. Robert gave him a sharp glare. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"Who's F. K.?"
"I have no idea," he said gruffly and turned to go.
Kevin caught him by the arm. "Don't you lie to me! I just watched my friend wake up from a faint and suddenly some dude's initials are carved into her back and she's too terrified to say anything!"
The doctor shook him off and made to leave but Charlie blocked his path and stared him down. "We want answers and not some crap you pulled out of your butt."
Dr. Robert glanced at the both of them before his eyes slowly shifted towards the window where Valerie could be seen biting her lip as Isabelle pressed a cloth to her cuts. "It's too late for her," he murmured. "But you've got a chance…"
Charlie's brow wrinkled. "What's that supposed to mean?"
With a sudden snarl, Dr. Robert turned from the window. "It means the truth is too dangerous for you and you should just leave it!"
Isabelle kept a watchful eye on the detectives conversing in the corner. She couldn't make out what they were saying, but it wasn't their words she was burning with curiosity to hear.
Lowering her voice so that only she, Valerie, and Bianca could hear, she asked, "Those are his initials, aren't they?" She felt Valerie flinch; whether it was from the cloth on her wounds or because of the question, she couldn't be sure.
"Whose?" Bianca whispered.
Isabelle didn't answer. She kept her focus on Valerie, who kept her face averted, but the silence spoke louder than words. The muffled sound of raised voices from outside briefly caught all three young women's attention and they glanced out the window to see Kevin and Charlie in a heated conversation with Dr. Robert. Dragging her gaze away from the glass, Isabelle once again attempted to get Valerie to talk.
"Why won't you tell me? You haven't held back until now."
"I can't risk getting anymore of you killed," Valerie whispered.
Isabelle's hand stilled from applying the disinfectant soaked cloth to her friend's back. "What are you talking about? Marv's death wasn't because of you."
"Izzy, please –," Valerie's voice cracked and she shook her head, still unable to look at them. "Don't ask anymore questions. Forget everything about this."
"How can I forget when you've got his initials carved into your back!" Isabelle hissed lowly.
"Whose initials?" Bianca asked again, irritated that she was being left out of the loop.
"The murderer she's doing her class report on," Isabelle hastily explained. "Fred Kr –,"
Valerie suddenly whirled around and clamped a hand over her mouth. Isabelle and Bianca both widened their eyes in surprise. "Don't say his name," Valerie commanded in a tone that broached no room for argument. "Don't even think it anymore. Forget him."
Isabelle slowly removed the hand from her mouth, a wary expression on her face. "Okay, Val…okay." She exchanged a look with Bianca that told her they'd have a talk later in private.
"Miss Snider?"
They all turned with a start to see the detectives approaching them. Rogers sat in the chair closest to Valerie. He ran a hand through his dark brown hair with a stressful sigh and Bianca raised her eyebrows appreciatively. Isabelle and Valerie both gave her a subtle shake of the head and she pouted.
Returning her attention to the detective, Valerie asked, "Is something wrong, detective?"
"Dr. Robert…has informed us that you should be under supervision for the next twenty-four hours. He wants us to transfer you to the local hospital and you'll be under his care."
"Twenty-four hour supervision?" Bianca repeated, suspiciously.
"Does he think she did that to herself?" Isabelle snarled. "She's not suicidal or self-harming!"
"She is right here," Valerie half-heartedly reminded them. "And I did not do this to myself. But I get the feeling this is just protocol, right?"
Rogers nodded.
Valerie sighed and rubbed her face with both hands then slid them down until they were clasped under her chin. Her green eyes focused on a random spot on the floor. "And just three days ago I was worrying about the upcoming finals." She let out a chuff of dry laughter. "Okay, let's get this over with."
Isabelle opened her mouth to argue but Valerie shook her head. "Izzy, just let it go. It's only twenty-four hours. Besides, tomorrow's Saturday, so it's not like I'll miss any classes."
Isabelle remained quiet but there was no mistaking the disgruntled look on her face.
"Could you and Bianca go by my room and bring some of my stuff to the hospital?"
When Isabelle's silence stretched on, Bianca awkwardly cleared her throat and flashed Valerie a smile. "Sure, Val. Write us a list of what you need."
"Thanks."
After Valerie finished with her list and gave them her room key, Isabelle and Bianca set off for the college in Bianca's car. Isabelle was silent and glared out the passenger window during the drive.
"I'll keep you, my dirty little secret
(Dirty little secret)
Don't tell anyone or you'll be just another regret
(Just another regret, hope that you can keep it)
My dirty little secret…"
Isabelle violently smashed the car radio's mute button. Bianca, who'd been in the middle of singing along, gave her an annoyed glance. "Girl, what is your problem?" she asked.
"My problem?" Isabelle repeated. "My problem is that Valerie is saying nothing when her life is like, in danger and there's nothing I can do about it!"
Bianca drove in uncomfortable silence for a few seconds then slowly reached for the radio's volume knob.
"Don't even," Isabelle growled without looking at her.
Bianca snatched her hand back with a chastised air. "Sooo," she began after awhile. "This Fred dude you were going to tell me about before Valerie went cray-cray on you… what's the story?"
Isabelle filled her in on what she knew and was wrapping it up just as Bianca pulled into a parking spot outside of the dorm. They remained seated inside the car even after Bianca turned off the engine.
"…Wow," Bianca said, because she really couldn't think of anything else to say that summed it up. "Those bruises she showed us the other day…"
"Yeah…they've been on my mind today."
"Something weird is going on, Izzy."
Isabelle scoffed and opened her door. "You're telling me."
Once they were inside of Valerie's room and were nearly done gathering the things she'd requested, Isabelle's eyes fell on the copies of newspaper articles on the desk. She shuffled through a few and paused when she came across the shadowed image of Fred Krueger. This was the man whose name was carved into her friend's skin. She fought the urge to crumple the paper in her hands.
Bianca came up behind her and looked over her shoulder at the picture. "Who's that? Can't see his face, but he's got a sexy silhouette."
"Bianca," Isabelle groaned.
"What? I've got a thing for guys wearing fedoras; sue me!"
Isabelle held up the picture. "This is the sick, psycho-freak, serial killer that Valerie's writing her report about. He's also the guy she's been dreaming about for the past few nights and now – suddenly – she's got his initials on her back from out of nowhere! So get your priorities straight for once, princess!"
Bianca stared apologetically at her. After a moment of tense quiet, her blue eyes drifted back to the picture of Krueger and she pretended to study it. "You know, on second thought, his silhouette isn't that sexy." She offered Isabelle a small smile. I'm sorry. We good? it asked.
Isabelle nodded with a smile of her own and turned to place the paper back with the other copies when her hands stilled in the process and she gazed at them as a whole.
"The librarian…"
"What was that, Izzy?"
"The librarian! Valerie was telling me how weird she was acting about Valerie's questions and that she seemed spooked about the decade Valerie had chosen to research. I bet you anything the librarian knows something!"
"Ya know, I think this is the first time I've ever been in here," Bianca whispered as she and Isabelle hurried towards the library's front desk. Isabelle hushed her out of habit.
A male student was at the desk. He wore a nametag that read 'Saul' and he smiled when they approached, though Isabelle noticed his eyes linger on Bianca longer than necessary. "Can I help you?" he asked.
"Yeah, is Ms. Hemming here? I really need to speak to her," Isabelle asked anxiously.
Saul cringed ruefully. "Sorry, but Ms. Hemming's been out sick since Thursday."
The young woman sitting next to him, her nametag read 'Carmen', finished checking out a book to another student and wrinkled her nose at his words. "Are you sure she's sick? I thought she'd gone out of town?"
"Well, Jerry said she was sick."
"Jerry can't remember what he had for breakfast this morning and I'm constantly having to re-shelve things he's placed in the wrong section," Carmen pointed out.
"Eh, no argument," Saul agreed with a shrug.
"So no one knows where she is?" Isabelle clarified.
"I didn't see a note saying she was sick," Carmen insisted. "I bet'cha she's out of town."
"But you're not sure?"
"…Well, no."
"Can someone call her?"
Carmen looked to Saul. "I don't know her number…"
"Neither do I," he admitted.
Isabelle and Bianca exchanged a look and Isabelle rolled her eyes in frustration. "Um, could you like, maybe look it up under her contact information?" she said as patiently as she could. Both students gave her a blank look. "You know, when you guys filled out an employee form and you listed your contact information – she had to do the same thing when she was hired, right? Just look it up there and pass it on to me so I can give her a call."
"Oooh! Yeah – no," Carmen answered with an apologetic shake of her head. "We can't give that out to people. Privacy, ya know."
Isabelle forced a smile while her hands gripped the edge of the desk with white knuckles. "Riiiight."
A chirpy ring-tone sounded from Carmen's pocket and she pulled out her phone and looked at the screen. "It's my sister," she told Saul. "Do you mind?"
"Go ahead."
"Thanks."
Carmen answered the phone as she walked away, leaving Isabelle and Bianca alone with Saul. Isabelle shifted her weight to the side as she pretended to be glancing about aimlessly, but her eyes located the door with Ms. Hemming's nameplate at the end of the hall behind the checkout desk. She caught Bianca's attention and gave a pointed looked at Saul while he was distracted with placing some books on a cart. Bianca gave her a conspiratorial wink and turned her blue gaze on Saul as she leaned attractively on the desk.
"Sooo, Saul," she said breathlessly. "I don't know too many Sauls."
The student grinned bashfully. "Yeah, it's kinda old fashioned."
"There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. I mean, take Bianca for instance. I've yet to run into another Bianca."
Isabelle inched herself away and ducked once she was around the edge of the desk and out of Saul's periphery. At the hall, she straightened up and hurried down the hall. She was surprised to find the librarian's office door unlocked. Slipping inside, she eased the door closed behind her and quickly went to the desk. She pulled open every drawer she could find until she came across a file that listed the library employees' information. She located Ms. Hemming's file and took a picture with her phone. Replacing the file into the drawer, she made sure everything was as it had been and sneaked back the way she came.
When she edged her way around the desk, she stuck close to the wall and took a right until she rounded the wall corner. She counted to five and moseyed her way into view, making it appear as though she'd just come back from looking at some books.
"That book I was loking for still hasn't made it back yet, I guess. Ready to go, Bee?"
Bianca gave a very convincing sigh of disappointment as she looked back at Saul. "I guess so. See ya around, Saul."
She pushed of the desk and followed Isabelle out the door. Once they were a good distance away from the exit, Bianca let out an excited giggle and grabbed hold of Isabelle's arm as she hopped up and down a few times. "Oh my gosh, that went great! Did you find what you were looking for?"
Isabelle grinned and held up her phone. "Sure did."
"This isn't what I pictured her house to look like," Bianca confessed when her car came to a stop in the librarian's driveway.
As they approached the front door, Isabelle looked over the one-story, white house with two front windows and green shudders. "What did you imagine?" she asked, stepping onto the wooden porch.
"Ever seen that movie Teaching Mrs. Tingle?"
"Yeah." Isabelle rang the doorbell.
"Mrs. Tingle's house. That's what I pictured."
"Girl, not even that high school teacher could have afforded a house like that; what makes you think a college librarian could afford it?" She rang the bell again.
After waiting for a few more seconds, she opened the screen door knocked on the wooden door but even that went unanswered. "Ms. Hemming?" she called. The house was still.
"Maybe she's so old she's going hearing problems?" Bianca offered with a shrug.
Walking away from the door, Isabelle peeked further down at the driveway towards the open garage door. An old, grey Buick was parked inside. She sighed and looked around behind them. "I don't want to look like a creep, but let's try her back door."
First looking to see if anyone was watching them, they skirted around the house to the back and found a sliding glass door un-obscured by blinds or a curtain. The sun cast a yellow glare against the glass. Shielding her eyes, Isabelle pressed her face to the glass and squinted. She could see into the living room and the lights lit and the TV show was playing I Love Lucy. The back of a lazy-boy chair was towards the sliding doors.
Isabelle rapped her knuckles against the glass. "Ms. Hemming?"
Nothing.
"Aha!" Bianca cried.
Isabelle turned to see Bianca kneeling down and picking a key box from underneath a flowerpot. "Total old lady move," she explained with a hint of triumph in her grin. She opened the little box, withdrew the key and walked towards the sliding doors.
"Bianca, you can't –!"
"It's technically not breaking and entering if we're using the key."
"It's trespassing!"
"You want answers, or not?"
"…Screw it," Isabelle finally said after a long moment's pause. She took the key from Bianca and inserted it into the lock.
Easing the door open, Isabelle stuck her head inside and looked around. "Ms. Hemming?" she called.
The only noise that broke up the quiet house was the TV. Isabelle and Bianca stepped inside and shut the glass door behind them. "Maybe she went out for a walk?" Bianca suggested.
"Most people turn off their TVs when they leave the house."
"Maybe she's one of those paranoid ladies who leaves their TV on to give the illusion that some one's home?"
"Maybe," Isabelle answered distractedly. An odor had caught her attention. "Do you smell that?"
Bianca sniffed the air and immediately wrinkled her nose. "Ugh! What is that?"
Isabelle passed the lazy-boy chair and the toe of her shoe accidentally punted a black plastic object on the floor. She looked down at her feet to find the TV remote. Picking it up, she aimed it at the TV and turned it off. The screen reflected Bianca standing behind her and someone else. Someone was sitting in the lazy-boy.
Isabelle gasped and whirled around. Ms. Hemming sat slumped in the chair, pale and gaunt. Her throat was sliced open and blood drenched the front of her robe and night gown so thoroughly that at first Isabelle thought her clothes were actually red.
Bianca, unable to see what had caused such a terrified look on Isabelle's face, hurried around the chair to stand next to her. "Izzy! What's wrong? What is it?" She looked at the chair and screamed.
"Bee," Isabelle said in a tremulous voice, "Call 9-1-1."
Bianca whipped out her phone and dialed, already in freak out mode. As she spoke a mile-a-minute to the dispatcher, Isabelle took a hesitant step towards the dead woman. There was something odd about her right robe's sleeve. Because of the light coloring of the material, she could see blood seeping through the sleeve, but the pattern was strange.
Seeing a tissue box on the coffee table, she took a tissue and used it to cover her fingers as she pinched the sleeve fabric and tugged it away from the old women's forearm. Isabelle's face went white at the sight of words carved into the aged skin.
Some stories can't be forgotten – F. K.
In a private room within Springwood Hospital, Valerie finished flipping through the TV channels for the second time and gave up finding anything interesting to watch. She tossed the remote onto the nightstand next to her bed and heaved a sigh.
I guess I'll just have to wait until Izzy and Bee bring my stuff and hope they remembered to pack my book to read.
Anything to keep her awake. Anything to keep him away from her. Anything.
A light knock on the door frame to her room grabbed her attention. "Hey, kido. How're you doing?" Dr. Robert asked as he stepped inside.
"The stitches in my back itch like crazy." She nodded in answer to his silent request sit on the stool next to her bed. "I take it the detectives went to the cafeteria for lunch and asked you to keep an eye one me?"
"Actually, I offered to watch you so they could get some food. Your meal should be arriving any minute."
"Good. I'm starving."
Dr. Robert reached into his lab coat's pocket and withdrew a small pill bottle. "And when it gets here, I suggest you take two of these." He set the bottle on the table.
Valerie picked it up and read the label aloud. "Hypnocil?"
"It's still an experimental drug, but it's proven to de a dream suppressant."
Valerie fixed her green eyes on him. He met her stare without flinching. There was nothing coy in his expression.
"…You know."
Dr. Robert sighed and nodded. "I know."
"That's why you told the detectives that phony story that I did this to myself. You know how he spreads."
"That and because it'll sound like I've got too many screws loose."
They shared a brief chuckle.
Valerie ran her thumb over the bottle in her hand. "…It's all my fault he's back."
"Don't be so hard on yourself."
Valerie let out a derisive scoff. "This town tried so hard to bury him and I had to go and dig him up –,"
"Nothing is ever truly forgotten so long as there's someone who remembers." Dr. Robert went quiet for a moment. "I've always lived in Springwood. I was twenty when Krueger started murdering those kids." His eyes seemed haunted from behind his glasses. "I even talked to him on numerous occasions."
Valerie didn't dare speak. He'd met him. He'd spoken with him. She'd dealt with the ghost – the dream demon; Dr. Robert had met the man in the flesh. What had that been like?
Licking her dry lips, she asked, "Some people who've encountered serial killers before they started killing, claim that they had a sense that something was off about that person. Did you?"
"I never suspected a thing. He just seemed so…average."
"Average?"
"Yeah. You're typical, next-door neighbor guy who you'd find at all the neighborhood cookouts and sharing jokes with the other men. He didn't come off as menacing at all. Didn't look it either. It's probably why he was able to get away with it for so long because he just seemed so …"
"Average," Valerie finished for him. Dr. Robert nodded and they settled into silence. After about a minute, he spoke up again.
"He's never truly gone away from Springwood," he went on. "Krueger's come back before. Several times, actually."
"Then why stay? Those of you who know and remember; why risk him coming after you?"
"To protect the one's who don't suspect a thing. To prevent Krueger from being rediscovered.
"Yeah, well, I blasted those goals to smithereens."
"Any one of us had the potential to bring him back. All it would take would be a momentary lapse of remembering to take out Hypnocil before going to bed or falling asleep in front of the TV, passing out or being knocked unconscious; you name it. It could have been any one of us."
"But it wasn't!" Valerie exploded as hot tears slid down her face. "I did it! And I blabbed about him to my friends and they could die because of me!"
"…Then I guess the question is; what are you going to do about it?"
Valerie took a steadying breath and tried to gather her thoughts. She dried her eyes with the back of her arm and studied the wrinkles in the bed sheets. "Can he be stopped? You said so yourself that he's come back before. So is there even a point in fighting?"
"There's always a point. But until you come up with a plan, I suggest you keep taking those."
Dr. Robert tapped the pill bottle's lid and got up from the stool. Just as he got to the door, he turned around. His brow furrowed as if debating with some inner conflict.
"There's…rumors…that some teens who encountered him back in the 80's are still alive. But after what happened in the 90's, I'm not so sure if they are or not."
"What happened in the 90's?"
"…Krueger nearly wiped out the population in Springwood. That time was different from before. He was loose for years before someone finally sent him back." Dr. Robert gave a low, dry chuckle and rubbed at his eyes. "Even after everything I've witnessed, I still find myself questioning if this is real." His green eyes settled on Valerie and she could see they were filled with sadness.
"Kid, I wish you all the luck in the world. And if there's any way I can help…well, don't wait until I have to stitch you up again to come find me, okay?"
Valerie nodded. He gave a tight smile and left.
Lifting the pill bottle to the light, she studied its contents for a moment. Clenching her jaw in anger, she twisted off the cap and shook free two pills into her palm. She tossed them back into her mouth and swallowed. She was exhausted and wasn't going to chance falling asleep without the pills. Only about an hour later, when she felt her eyelids growing unbearably heavy and her body felt weighted down, did she vaguely realize just how smart a move that had been and prayed the pills would work.
Another kill under his belt, another soul claimed, another surge of energy. Even if the old broad hadn't provided him with as much power as a younger soul would have, he still felt the results strengthening him and Krueger was eager to get back on his feet.
He sensed when Valerie fell asleep and chuckled darkly in anticipation of the fun that would begin the moment she entered his dream world… But she didn't.
Krueger honed in on the presence he was quickly coming to recognize as Valerie's. It was there, yet it felt vague and insubstantial whereas the other times she'd come to him her presence had burned like a beacon. Something was blocking it.
Willing himself to where the sensation was strongest, Krueger came face to face with a wall. Glaring at it, the wall slowly took on a cloudy transparency, like black smoke caught within a glass container, and refused to accommodate him any further. He peered through and could make out Valerie's sleeping form on a hospital bed. A smirk twisted his features as he reared back his bladed hand, preparing to strike. Swiftly slashing at the barrier, Krueger received a shock when the blow bounced off and threw him several feet away and he landed roughly on his back.
"What the f – !"
Another sensation pricked at his senses and he cut himself off in order focus his attention on it. It felt familiar and incited an instinctual hatred he wasn't able to understand yet. His eyes drifted back to the wall separating him from his prey. Standing to his feet, he cautiously approached it and ran the blade of his index finger along the surface. It screeched in protest but no marks were made. He'd seen this before, years ago…
Hypnocil.
No, no, no, no, NO, NO, NO!
A scream of rage erupted from Krueger's vocal cords as he unleashed his wrath on the unrelenting barrier; sparks flew where he raked his knives against it.
How the hell had she gotten a hold of that damn drug! That girl's soul belonged to him! She'd practically been dreaming of him since puberty! She brought him back! She was his!
MINE!
He pounded his fist against the wall, howling his fury and threats at the peacefully slumbering Valerie on the other side, just out of his reach.
Kill her! Kill her! KILL HER! NOW!
The wall didn't so much as have a scratch on it when Krueger finally subsided in his assault and took to pacing the length of the barrier, eyes fixed solely on her. The moment the drugs wore off, the moment her shields went down, the moment she's left undefended, he wouldn't hesitate. Or would he…?
His steps faltered.
He couldn't deny there was a hesitancy to kill her. He couldn't figure it out at first but the longer he stood there staring at Valerie the more his thoughts began to turn over and over in his head and a plan began to take root. It was dangerous, it was risky, but it might be worth the gamble. He'd gone up against lucid dreamers before and they were a threat to him, true…but what if….
A slow, calculating grin worked its way onto his face and his blades lifted up to tap thoughtfully on the barrier.
What…if?
He drew the tip of a blade along the outline of her body and chuckled.
"Sweet dreams, Valerie."
(Now just what could Freddy be planning, hm? Until next time, Dear Readers.)
(P.S: Any song suggestions for this story?)
