Disclaimers, ratings, name, etc can be found in prologue but I must mention now that I don't own the song lyrics below, they belong to Korn.

Author's Notes: More comments to make first:

Agent A.T.: Yes, I supposed I DO mention Jason a great deal and I won't lie, there's a lot more about him in further chapters. The main reason I do so is as a comparison to Samara -difference in relationship, personality, etc as well as thanks to the new movie, Jason is now infused nicely with Freddy mythos.

Now as to whether or not he himself will pop up in the fic, that I just don't know. I have seen all the Friday the 13th movies (same for Freddy films naturally) and am a fan, so maybe.

I'm going to judge it by you guys. If you all want him to crop up, by all means ask for it! Also keep feeding me with reviews, nothing inspires me more than feedback in my e-mail box - it makes me happy! *^_^*

Now for the warnings…

WARNING: MENTIONS OF GRAPHIC VIOLENCE/GORE

WARNING: BAD LANGUAGE

WARNING: MOMENTS OF PEDOPHILIA

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How did it start?
Well I don't know
I just feel the craving
I see flesh and it smells fresh
and it's just there for the taking
These little girls,
they make me feel so goddamn exhilarated
I fill them up, I can't give it up
To me, I'm just erasing

-Korn, 'Trash'

Chapter 3

"You start working on that tape yet?"

"Putting the images into order now…" Samara mumbled, eyes closed. She was still lashed to the columns of 1428 Elm, vibrant red blood was running down her cheeks like trails of tears.

Krueger had inflicted the cuts on her face. He could still remember the first time his blades has sliced into her skin. It had been like reaching the peak of an orgasm. However his look of overwhelming pleasure could only help but add to the show they'd just preformed. And she had been an impressive actress, crying and screaming and carrying on as if she were any other normal, living little girl.

He had tossed in his own standard gloating and posturing. He was positive it would inflame the blood of his victims, the people who the tapes were going to be addressed to. He couldn't help but laugh deep in his chest, the sound barreling out of him. Those poor bastards. They had no idea what was coming for them.

They had thought they had gotten away, that they had escaped him, beaten him…they couldn't be more wrong. He would have his revenge and while at it, he would return himself back to his rightful stature, back to his full powered glory.

He began to imagine all the inventive ways he could kill those fucks, they hadn't seen anything yet and now he even had a little helper. He turned to Samara. She looked so fucking good. Desire moved through his veins again in a spidery pattern, causing his breath to deepen.

He wanted to cut her again, make her scream again - but for real this time. He wanted to grab at her porcelain white flesh, dig his fingers into it, thread his blades through her dark hair.

Suddenly her eyes popped open, "It's done."

Freddy looked around, then flapped his hands, "Where's the tape then."

Her head inclined to one side, "In here."

He sneered, "I need the tape to send it out!"

"And you will have the tape, once I know where it's going and to who."

He charged up to her, snarling, "That's none of your damn business."

"It is if you want the tape sent. I project it to people. You want a certain person to watch it? Fine. But I need to know who so I can send it to them first."

A growl worked its way up Krueger's throat, this wasn't what he wanted. This wasn't how he had planned it. But if this had to be the way it was, so be it. Nothing was going to stop him now. He cleared his throat, "There's something of a list…"

"Give it to me." She replied easily.

Freddy snapped his fingers and a dirty piece of paper appeared. He held it out for her view. Her eyes scanned it up and down then she looked at him. She didn't breathe a word for a very long time, then, finally, the static-encrusted voice came again, "That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

The glare on his face was priceless as he turned on his heel so as not to look at her. He wanted her to be his own, to be his child but he didn't like the way she was developing a smart mouth.

He was the one in charge here. She was his. A possession. She was in no way his equal and she needed to learn that lesson quick. Control. Dominance. Submission. Those things had to be etched inside of her.

He hated partnerships. He preferred to work on his own. Alone. That was the way it was supposed to be. He was the Nightmare Stalker, not Nightmare Stalker and sidekick. He tried to yet again control himself. All he had to do was wait. Once she sent the videos out her primary job would be over and he'd show her who was in charge.

No more Mr. Nice Guy.

Hell, maybe he'd even do some extra torturing to her while he was at it. And this time he'd make it hurt. This caused a twisted smile to erupt on his burn-scarred visage and he turned to her, razor blades twitching.

Still tied to the posts, chest wide open like an ancient virgin sacrifice, she looked at him. Those eyes seemed to glitter, the power held behind them rising up like a tide, a barely leashed animal of explosive force that regarded him with disdain. Yet nothing else about her showed anything, gave the slightest hint. It was flat, one-dimensional, empty.

The blood had long since disappeared as had the red ribbon pony tails. Her hair hung long and limp again, curtains around her face but not yet hiding it entirely from view. This change was impressive. Somehow she had managed it without even untying herself.

That Krueger found not only to be a little strange but suspicious. He was the only one who could control the dreamscape and bend it to his will, the fact that she had done it, transformed her appearance no matter how small, was of concern.

How had she been able to do that?

And without his knowledge, without him feeling it even?

The first time she had transformed in his realm to make their film, he had felt it vaguely but this time there had been nothing. No hint of warning, not a thing. And that had only been mere moments ago!

This wasn't like Kristin or her friends with their stupid little dream powers. What she had just pulled was serious. Because it meant she had some sway in the dreamscape and he had not even taught her anything yet.

She had asked him to teach her how to do what he did and he had shoved her off but now that she had just pulled her own magic trick he found himself more than a little curious. And little unsettled by what she had done, he didn't like the idea of her having leverage over him, some kind of control over his dreamscape, he was very possessive about what was his. Jason had learned that one first gloved hand.

Just as he was about to question it, Samara spoke in his mind; "This wasn't necessary."

He blinked, caught off guard, croaking, "What?"

"The scene we just staged. It wasn't necessary. I could have just imagined what you would have done to me in my head and made the tapes just fine."

He looked at her in confusion and her shoulders gave a delicate shrug, "Just thought you'd like to know."

Freddy approached her, he could see the cords wrapped around her were biting deep into the white skin of her wrists leaving raw angry red imprints and he could see that while she had made the blood vanish the cuts he had inflicted upon her were still there. They were translucent now, as if water had washed the wounds clean but there was a slight purpling beneath, indicating she would have bruises, maybe even scares.

He waved one claw in her face, "Then why did you let me-"

"Because I knew you wanted to," she said. Her voice was as monotone as usual but there was an underlying amusement there that could not be ignored, "Just like the red ribbons. I know what you like," she actually paused to lick her lips, as if deliberately trying to further entice him, "I thought I might like it too."

He drew ever closer to her, a mere breath away as he spoke thickly, "And did you?"

Only an enigmatic smile formed before she whispered, "I'm not like the doll, Krueger. I won't break."

A salacious groan left him. He didn't know what he wanted more. To hurt her or to hurt her. There was such a fine line between the two. He was one in only a few who understood that precious fact. His eyes drank her in. She looked so very young to him again; she had to have been about six or seven, his favorite age for his more 'special' activities.

His hand brushed her skin; felt how smooth it was, how soft. So soft. He could smell her from here. Unlike his other children, she did not reek of fear but instead smelled so fucking sweet that his jaw clenched. He missed the fear, but this was good too. When he had smelled her hair before it had not smelled like this. At that time he had picked up the familiar, likable aroma of murky well water, dirt, grime, decay.

Not this candy fragrance he was receiving now. It was surprising but then, she had changed her appearance, so maybe she could change her scent as well. And it was not unentirely pleasant. In fact, it reminded him of what it had been like when he was alive. Either form - alive or dead, either smell - rotten or sweet, it did not matter to him…he was just so damn hungry for her.

And as long as he got what he wanted, everything was just fine.

But before he could do anymore, before he could come closer, he suddenly found himself lunging forward as she vanished out of his grip. He looked from side to side, startled and furious when he heard the static behind him. He turned and saw her standing there.

Her hair was covering her face again and she was soaking wet as if she had just crawled up and out of the well, her skin rotted again. A childish giggle filled the air, "A taste is all you get…for now."

With that she turned and ran off into his world, going only Hell knew where and Freddy stood there, blinking, an issue in his body still unresolved. He was livid, beyond rage as he muttered, "Fucking tease."