WARNING: Graphic language and themes.
I told myself I wanted to get into that twisted mind of his and what I came up with was this internal dialog. Some of it might end up in my story, "Everyone's Afraid of Something" but I just had to vent this on it's own. Remember this is a running dialog in Freddy's head or maybe he's talking to the doll. So don't go off on the grammar.
Into the Mind of Madness
[Freddy is sitting in his boiler room. He is holding a doll. It's stomach is torn open and the stuffing is hanging out.]
You think you know me? You think you know who and what I am?
You don't know shit!
What do you have? Observations from terrorized kids. Endless psycho babble from sanctimonious do-gooders. Spewing endless rhetoric about the nature of good and evil. It's all a load of crap.
Of course, I'm not about to set em straight.
Let them think what they will. And while the piggies run in circles. I'll slaughter them all. Why? Because. I AM ETERNAL.
They call me monster. Or demon. Or madman. All are obvious. All are true. But there are things they don't know. That they will never know about me.
You see you have something I don't. Something I never had. "Free-will." My destiny was preordained before my birth. It was something I never knew until after the dream demons guided me home.
You don't think just any old psycho can become a dream stalker do you?
All those poor deluded son of bitches that think they can kill their way into immortality. Doesn't work like that. When you have free-will you have the choice to be good or evil. Either way, when your time on Earth is over, you reap the consequences of that choice.
I tried once to fight what I am. I tried to live as a man, as a human being. But the more I fought my nature, the worse the impulses became.
Have you ever heard the fable of "The Frog and the Scorpion"? It summarizes my situation rather well.
A frog is sunning himself on the riverbank when a scorpion approaches. He asks the frog to carry him across the river.
The frog says, "If I do as you ask you will sting me."
The scorpion replies that he will not sting the frog because he can not swim. The frog ponders this a moment, and then agrees to take the scorpion across the river on his back.
When they reach the middle of the river. The scorpion rears up and stings the frog.
As the venom seals their fate he asks, "Why!? Why would you do this? Now we will both die!"
The scorpion answers calmly as they sink below the water, "Because it is my nature."
You really think it was an accident that my mother was locked in the asylum that weekend? They had been waiting for a convergence of signs for a long, long time.
Who are "they" you ask? Call em the powers that be if you want. Call em the things that go bump in the night. Doesn't matter. "They" are the things that exist beyond the realm of ordinary understanding. Simple as that.
Mine was a merging of darkest magicks. Think about it. A young, virgin nun. Pure and chaste. Dedicating her life to the service of God. It was the ultimate corruption of innocence. Brutalized by madmen, again and again and again. It was a black ritual, orchestrated by Hell.
It was actually her faith that birthed a monster. Consider this. Had my mother lost faith and terminated me I would not have been born. That's one fucked up God you got there ain't it!
I always knew even as a child that I was different. Of course, that's how all the deranged feel isn't it?
But in my case, I knew it was true. I just didn't know how or why. I never felt like I belonged to that world. What you might not realize was that it was agony for me to be there. To me the living world was a dreary, muted tomb. Everything was pale and dull. The food was bland, the music held no charm. Even women couldn't offer me much release.
I could sense the world behind the world. Not in some abstract way. Not in some philosophy of the paradise of Heaven and the fires of Hell way. No, I could sense things on a whole different level. And it drove me mad. Insane. Frothing psycho.
But then, that's what "they" intended all along anyway.
I was miserable and I hated it. The only moment's peace I had, was when I killed. I thought at the time it was the killing itself that was offering me all these new sensations. I didn't know my true nature. My destiny.
The killing was only a means to an end. Just as the fear is. It's the souls of the innocent. That's what I truly feed on. So many piggies have gotten it wrong. They think if they're not afraid of me then they're safe. Think again.
I need fear, yes. I need fear to get to the soul. But it's the soul I feed upon. It's the souls of the innocent that give me strength. And ok, I'll admit, I do get a charge out of terrorizing all the little piggies. But I think that's just my sadistic half showing itself.
Never let it be said that Freddy Krueger doesn't have a sense of humor! It may be a sick, twisted sense of humor but a highly attuned one! I do understand why my victims don't appreciate it. But you'd think at least once, one of them would get the joke! It's all one big cosmic joke!
You can run. You can hide. You might even evade me for a time. But in the end, its what's inside YOU that determines if you live or die. Bet that surprises the hell outta you, doesn't it.
Don't think that I don't have a big hand in it. Big bladed, gloved hand. I am a master manipulator. I know how to get to you. I know what it takes. But you're the one with free will. Not me.
TBC?
Ok its 2am, and I should go to bed. I'd really like to continue this. I have a lot more thoughts. Anyone interested in seeing more? Or should this just be used for inspiration in my fanfic..
I told myself I wanted to get into that twisted mind of his and what I came up with was this internal dialog. Some of it might end up in my story, "Everyone's Afraid of Something" but I just had to vent this on it's own. Remember this is a running dialog in Freddy's head or maybe he's talking to the doll. So don't go off on the grammar.
Into the Mind of Madness
[Freddy is sitting in his boiler room. He is holding a doll. It's stomach is torn open and the stuffing is hanging out.]
You think you know me? You think you know who and what I am?
You don't know shit!
What do you have? Observations from terrorized kids. Endless psycho babble from sanctimonious do-gooders. Spewing endless rhetoric about the nature of good and evil. It's all a load of crap.
Of course, I'm not about to set em straight.
Let them think what they will. And while the piggies run in circles. I'll slaughter them all. Why? Because. I AM ETERNAL.
They call me monster. Or demon. Or madman. All are obvious. All are true. But there are things they don't know. That they will never know about me.
You see you have something I don't. Something I never had. "Free-will." My destiny was preordained before my birth. It was something I never knew until after the dream demons guided me home.
You don't think just any old psycho can become a dream stalker do you?
All those poor deluded son of bitches that think they can kill their way into immortality. Doesn't work like that. When you have free-will you have the choice to be good or evil. Either way, when your time on Earth is over, you reap the consequences of that choice.
I tried once to fight what I am. I tried to live as a man, as a human being. But the more I fought my nature, the worse the impulses became.
Have you ever heard the fable of "The Frog and the Scorpion"? It summarizes my situation rather well.
A frog is sunning himself on the riverbank when a scorpion approaches. He asks the frog to carry him across the river.
The frog says, "If I do as you ask you will sting me."
The scorpion replies that he will not sting the frog because he can not swim. The frog ponders this a moment, and then agrees to take the scorpion across the river on his back.
When they reach the middle of the river. The scorpion rears up and stings the frog.
As the venom seals their fate he asks, "Why!? Why would you do this? Now we will both die!"
The scorpion answers calmly as they sink below the water, "Because it is my nature."
You really think it was an accident that my mother was locked in the asylum that weekend? They had been waiting for a convergence of signs for a long, long time.
Who are "they" you ask? Call em the powers that be if you want. Call em the things that go bump in the night. Doesn't matter. "They" are the things that exist beyond the realm of ordinary understanding. Simple as that.
Mine was a merging of darkest magicks. Think about it. A young, virgin nun. Pure and chaste. Dedicating her life to the service of God. It was the ultimate corruption of innocence. Brutalized by madmen, again and again and again. It was a black ritual, orchestrated by Hell.
It was actually her faith that birthed a monster. Consider this. Had my mother lost faith and terminated me I would not have been born. That's one fucked up God you got there ain't it!
I always knew even as a child that I was different. Of course, that's how all the deranged feel isn't it?
But in my case, I knew it was true. I just didn't know how or why. I never felt like I belonged to that world. What you might not realize was that it was agony for me to be there. To me the living world was a dreary, muted tomb. Everything was pale and dull. The food was bland, the music held no charm. Even women couldn't offer me much release.
I could sense the world behind the world. Not in some abstract way. Not in some philosophy of the paradise of Heaven and the fires of Hell way. No, I could sense things on a whole different level. And it drove me mad. Insane. Frothing psycho.
But then, that's what "they" intended all along anyway.
I was miserable and I hated it. The only moment's peace I had, was when I killed. I thought at the time it was the killing itself that was offering me all these new sensations. I didn't know my true nature. My destiny.
The killing was only a means to an end. Just as the fear is. It's the souls of the innocent. That's what I truly feed on. So many piggies have gotten it wrong. They think if they're not afraid of me then they're safe. Think again.
I need fear, yes. I need fear to get to the soul. But it's the soul I feed upon. It's the souls of the innocent that give me strength. And ok, I'll admit, I do get a charge out of terrorizing all the little piggies. But I think that's just my sadistic half showing itself.
Never let it be said that Freddy Krueger doesn't have a sense of humor! It may be a sick, twisted sense of humor but a highly attuned one! I do understand why my victims don't appreciate it. But you'd think at least once, one of them would get the joke! It's all one big cosmic joke!
You can run. You can hide. You might even evade me for a time. But in the end, its what's inside YOU that determines if you live or die. Bet that surprises the hell outta you, doesn't it.
Don't think that I don't have a big hand in it. Big bladed, gloved hand. I am a master manipulator. I know how to get to you. I know what it takes. But you're the one with free will. Not me.
TBC?
Ok its 2am, and I should go to bed. I'd really like to continue this. I have a lot more thoughts. Anyone interested in seeing more? Or should this just be used for inspiration in my fanfic..