Disclaimer: I would have to admit....this is not mine. Well, Freddy isn't at least....everyone else is mine. Heheh. I claim them! No taking....

Summary: This is just a quick glance at what it was like when the night terrors began to need medical attention. Anyway, if you don't like, then don't review.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Elle is suffering from night terrors." Dr. Morgan explained to Lisa, and Gerald, as they sat there, hands entwined, and never wishing this on their five-year-old daughter. "All the symptoms are here for mental illness, and delusions of the mind." He continued, but was quickly cut off.

"My daughter is not delusional, if she says she sees someone or something in her dreams, then she sees it in her dreams, damnit!" Gerald said standing up, and pounding his fists into the doctor's desk causing the trinkets and such to clink. Lisa laid a gentle hand on her husbands back, and he looked back at her sighing, and resuming his seat in the chair next to his wife.

"Mr. Lane, I'm not so sure you understand what is going on here. Your daughter believes strongly that a child killer that has long been dead....is now back, and haunting her in her dreams. I'm sorry, but that's pretty close to either the ranting of a sleep deprived child, or a little girl on the verge of becoming mentally unstable." Dr. Morgan's voice rose as he got up from his seat, his hands in the white pockets of his lab coat.

Gerald's eyes flashed with anger, he got up and walked out. Lisa gave her apologies and followed her husband out of the doctor's office. He went through the large swinging double doors, and waited for his wife, whom he knew, was behind him. He got into his daughters locked room with the help of his doctor friend, Thomas Lancaster. Elle ran up to her father, and wrapped her arms around his neck as he picked her up and cradled her in his arms. Lisa came up behind them appearing in the doorway. Elle wiggled down, and went over to give her mother the same bear hug her father had received. She hadn't seen them in three days, but to her it seemed like eternity.

"Elle, sweetie....do you want to go home now? With daddy and mommy?" Gerald asked, bending down to her level. The little girl looked at him with big green eyes, and curly brown hair, and simply nodded shyly. He smiled, and picked her up.

"Daddy?" The little girl asked, laying a tiny head on his shoulder.
"Yes baby?" Gerald replied, taking his wife's hand in his, while having his daughter in the other.
"I don't want to go to bed anymore daddy...." Her small, innocent voice, made him that much angrier with Freddy Krueger, in his mind....he swore to everything, we would never let him have his daughter.

Freddy sat in something he wouldn't exactly call an abode, but his....thing in the very depths of hell itself. Much to his surprise, a smile crept over his face as a challenge with his name in it came floating down. "Is that what you want? A challenge?" Freddy asked aloud more to himself, and he got stares from the many dead serial killers he shared the floor with, and walked over to slam the door shut. He turned around, and the malicious smile was still there. "Let's wait till they are older....its always more fun to hear them scream." With that Freddy went back to the same face he had on before the challenge, sat down on the seat, and stared blankly at the door expecting some small child to come through, one in which he could kill--brutally murder would fit there better-torment, and have. For now, he would rest with the feeling that soon enough....there would be a challenge to succeed in, and the fun would begin.

In another city, Springwood, there was a boy drifting off to sleep. He knew he could no long stay awake, but he was a big boy of seven, and he wasn't going to have any more nightmares. At least, that's what he told himself. So he hobbled into his nice warm bed, and laid down in it setting his head on the pillow. His blue eyes stared blankly at the ceiling for a moment until finally he closed them, and drifted off into the dream world.

Freddy found this as an opportunity to have a kill. He could tell when one of the children on Elm Street went to sleep, because they were always stinking of fear. So he had found his next victim, and off he went to get a good kill in before he grew--even more--bored. Finding the kid was easy....manipulating his dream, again....easy, but looking at the boy sent him into an emotional whirlpool. The boy looked just like him when he was younger. Down to the very way he walked. It was like, going into the past....the past he tried to forget. He wouldn't let this happen and he tried to get to the boy, but when he did....he couldn't bring himself to kill him. Instead, he lifted his gloved hand, and scratched the boy on his back leaving four deep cut wounds to his back. In case he ever encountered this boy again, he would know who it was.

The young boy screamed in agony as Freddy tore into his back with the razor sharp claws of his gloved hand. The boy grew angry, and his voice was strong for a seven year old as he stood up slowly and said, "That's it Freddy.I'm not going to let you get me again." With that the boy disappeared. Freddy was speechless.

"The little shit...." He said anger bubbling up, as it always was. "Him, and the bitch will pay later on. They won't know what hit them." He stopped, and put a claw to his chin in the classic "thinking" position. "Maybe, I will give them a taste of the past....let them know what its like to feel pain.then they will learn." His raspy voice echoed in his lonely boiler room. He shook his head, smiled evilly, and went back to his humble....thing and sat back down. He didn't do much. Drink, Kill, Stare at the wall, Drink, Kill, Stare at the wall. It was the same ol' same ol' once you got to where he was. Two victims went away with nothing but scratches, and he scolded himself for seeming so soft. He glared ahead content now as he planned their deaths....slowly, and carefully.

--To--Be--Continued--