Chapter Two
Body Swap
Goddamn that girl and her inane questions. She was annoying, uncouth, foul mouthed...No teenager had ever reacted like that to him. Shown such little fear regarding him, such callousness...With the exception of that Kia- but who cared! She was dead.
"Cep is going to die very, verrrrrry slowly." He said aloud to his mirror which was cracked in five different places, but it hardly convinced him. "THEN she'll be scared for once." He took off his fedora, bared his teeth at his reflection and plopped it back on his scarred head.
"I need more souls, the souls of the innocent. Must be why I'm losing my touch..." He growled. It got lonely around here by himself without the companionship of someone equally demonic, or any form of companionship. To Fred, his victim's pleas for mercy were companionship. Thinking aloud often cleared his thoughts. He wouldn't dare admit this. He was a man and even when alive, he strongly believed strongly in the dominating role of a man, the bread winner, the foundation of the family.
On top of his manly mannerisms, he was the essence of a nightmare. He didn't feel, let alone produce emotion. Just raw sadism, testosterone pumping through his veins that fuelled his blood lust. But Katherine...his only child. Oh Satan that rejection had come and bit him right in the ass. He would of had a companion-an apprentice if you will, by his side to slay the children- and of his own blood, his chromosomes, his DNA. Blood thicker than water. Alas, she had ruined the great plan of an epic Krueger saga. A saga that would take the breath away from Americans for decades to come. The kind of horror they chose to sweep under the rug.
"Katherine," He mumbled, "Takes after her mother." But yeah, he kinda missed her too.
Lola pulled from her intense lip lock with Kurt.
"I heard the garage- scram!" If either of her parents caught her necking with Kurt, heads would be flying much gorier then anything even Freddy Krueger had seen.
Nodding, Kurt jumped up from the couch, tugging at his zipper. Lola led him straight to the back of the house and unlocked the patio doors for him to slip out into the night. Friday night at home with her boyfriend was something she had definitely missed from her life in California. She knew he probably didn't understand the great measures she took to conceal their relationship from her parent's roving eyes, but he never protested.
"Take care, my love!" She blew him a warm kiss and he reached out, mimed taking it, and placed it against his soft tanned cheek.
"Later." He whispered.
"Lola?" Her dad's husky voice called out.
Lola ran to greet them as they wiped their muddy feet on the doormat. She hugged him tenderly. They had been at his prestigious work dinner party in a town just outside Springwood. Springwood wasn't even elite enough to have its own first class dining.
"What have you been doing all night? Not out with the girls? Brie, Torrance..."
I was in the arms of Kurt, actually did you want to know that mother?
"Watching the boob tube, actually." She replied automatically. "I had a date with Ben and Jerry."
"How did you get that cut?" Her mom gestured to it, alarmed.
Freddy Krueger.
"The cat."
"Oh it doesn't look good at all Lola, you should bandage it up. Go on upstairs. Your father and I are going to watch that Silence of the Lambs."
"Right." Lola didn't care about that, or about bandaging the cut. Instead, she locked herself in her bedroom, turned up the volume on her CD player and put on her Chicago Movie Soundtrack. The upbeat music and melodies almost always made her feel better.
She pulled the glove from atop her diary and unravelled the rags, cautiously, holding her breath. She felt the cold blades against her bare flesh. It was heavier than one would expect. The leather thick and worn, the blades cold and heavy. Just last night she had seen this glove on Fred Krueger's actual hand. Then again, it had only been a dream and he wasn't real, right? But the cut...it had hurt like a bitch, and she had her proof, it was right on her hand. So then...what?
Biting on her bottom lip, she struggled to pull the big glove over her hand, fitting each finger in- way too big for her hand, but it was on. Was she sick for even trying it on? For trying on the weapon that had caused the suffering of dozens of children? Faltering, she gasped in pain.
Something wasn't right. Her chest was aching as if some twisted nurse had just pumped an air bubble into her chest. Was she having a heart attack? Another pang, this time shooting up every limb, poison was coursing through her veins. She collapsed to the floor, withering in pain- gasping and clutching her chest. Help me.
"Mommy...Daddy." She gasped. "Help." But it came out a breathy squawk, not even distinguishable to her.
She reached out shakily, and lunged for the bedpost, managing to hoist herself off her knees, and onto her feet. But as soon as she did she was reeled onto the bed, smacking her head off the nightstand. She sobbed in pain, rubbing her throbbing head. Was she asleep? Was this Freddy? Well if it was- he was more powerful then she had ever suspected, because this time, she didn't even feel like she was dreaming. Was this what he did to his victims? Psychologically torture them more and more each encounter, to the point where the boundaries between dreams and reality, were no longer there?
Freddy paced the length of the boiler room. Why wasn't anyone sleeping? It was 8:00- shouldn't some infant be dozing in dreamland? Where were parents these days and their morals? Katherine would have long ago been tucked into bed.
He grimaced. Okay, first of all, he was never supposed to feel pain in the dream world (those damned swindler dream demons! Promising immortality and invincibility). He was the ruler and he just didn't get hurt. But his heart felt as though a fist had gripped it, twisting in his chest. He stumbled back in shock, pain, and curiosity. He grabbed at his chest, gasping for oxygen.
"For Hell's sake!" He hissed. Then it all stopped as suddenly as it had come. The abrupt halt to his pain dropped him on his buttock. How embarrassing...he hoped some teenager wasn't lurking around and had seen him do that. His rep would be ruined.
"H-hello?" He heard the voice of a little girl calling and instantly forgot the strange event. His instincts took over and he could feel the high of adrenaline. He grinned maliciously, making his way towards the tiny five year old shrouded in shadows.
"Where am I?"
"You're-" Why did his voice sound so...high?
"Can you help me find my mommy?" The child asked.
He flexed his right hand.
"Well, well, well, little one-" But there were no blades, no glove. He looked down in horror at his right hand, his face heating up. Unscathed, flawless. Small and white. What?
He tore his gaze to a furnace where he could see his reflection, and the sight that stared back at him nearly froze his blood. He was looking back at the image of Lola Cep.
"NO!" He roared in agony. It couldn't be! IT COULDN'T! He couldn't have become her! It abandoned the laws of physics! It abandoned science, and reality, and...anything!
"What did she do to me?" He hissed, his hands frantically scrabbling across the soft peach fuzz of her cheeks. "WHAT DID SHE DO TO ME?"
The chest convulsion had been more than painful. They had been agonizing. She was going to kill Krueger for this one. Lola lifted herself off her bed, sighed and turned the CD off. Painfully cheerful, and conflicting with her current state of mind, which was far from, "Give 'em the old Razzle Dazzle."
She lay lopsided on her bed, registering what had just happened. There was no longer a trace of the throbbing pain she had experienced.
Maybe…it hadn't even happened. If it was the work of Krueger, chances were she had been dreaming.
In wonder, Lola pulled open her knapsack and dropped her textbook on her desk. Time to hit the books and forget about that episode.
She took out a pen and began to write. The pen felt awkward in her hand, like a right handed person trying to write with their left hand. She looked at her hand, puzzled. She was still wearing the glove- duh! She laughed-that was an accident just waiting to happen. Her laugh snaked out, deep and hoarse. Embarrassed, she coughed. Just a frog in her throat, right? Right.
"Stacy's Mom has got it going on! She's all I want and I've waited for so long. Stacy can't you see you're just not the girl for me-"
She sounded like the goblin from hell.
It made her laugh, but she muffled it with a hand. Her hand, which just happened to be dirty and grimy, calloused and leathery. God only knew what toxins, germs or oil had sifted into the fabric of the glove. Sighing, wondering what she had gotten herself into, she dragged herself to her feet and to her bathroom. Perhaps she was bleeding?
She lathered her hands with soap and furiously began scrubbing her hands but they were huge! Huge and masculine! They had grown since the last time she looked at them, now they were double their size. Were humans physically capable of growing that fast?! Why was she doubting the logic that was programmed in her brain? This stuff just was incapable of happening.
"I'm a medical miracle...a freak! What am I? A man or something?" She whispered. There...her hands were cleaner now, and scented.
She gazed into the mirror, her eyes narrowing and screamed.
She sounded like Freddy Krueger, because that was who she was! The tattered detective-from-old-mystery-movies-her-dad-loved -hat, the scarred face, results of endless millionth degree burns. The monstrous howl...oh god. Why? Why had this happened? Then it hit her.
When she had tried on his glove...She had felt the pain in her chest instantaneously...this transformation must have happened as a result of her curiosity and incessant knack for leaping before she looked. Well, there would be some way to reverse this burden…if it could be done, it had to be undone. So where was her body now?
Freddy. Freddy was inhabiting her body somewhere in the dream world- like a hermit crab that moved from shell to shell. Who knew how many children he could kill while inside her body! Think of the mass destruction he could do possessing her body! The children of Springwood would be obsolete.
"I'm a MAN." She whispered, feeling tears brim her- or rather, his cold blue eyes. "I'm FREDDY. I'm a demon and I'm like, sixty!" How could she hide?
"Lola, are you okay?" Her mother called from downstairs. "You screamed."
How would she speak much less muster the courage to do it?
"I was waxing my legs!" She called in a falsetto, it cracking like a prepubescent boy.
"Do you have a cold?" She asked suspiciously. Stupid nosy mother!
"NO!" She squeaked. Time to sleep, find Freddy, and ultimately, get her body back!
Once back in her room, her heart racing, she frantically rummaged through her drawers. Freddy's body was too tall and broad for her pyjamas and no way was she laughing her head off looking at Freddy sporting a lacy nightgown. She refused to change out of his clothes, just in case he wasn't like...wearing underwear or something. She flung the hat onto her dresser and sighed.
She climbed into her bed and realized she was even too tall for that. Normally, the double bed fit her well, but he must have been at least 5'8" and she was a heck of a lot shorter than that. HIS black boots hung over the end of her bed. Tears stinging HIS eyes, she squat down and unlaced the work boots. His socks were dirty, tarnished with grime, but probably had been white at one time. The itchy material of the wool sweater irritated the skin. She hated the tarnished fabric of old wool. It maddened her.
She rolled up a piece of his sweater off the skin and cursed. He didn't wear a shirt underneath the Christmas sweater! The burns nauseated her. Wincing and avoiding her mirror, she stumbled out of bed and tossed it off, found her oversized Springwood High t-shirt and tugged it over- (she was officially going to quit referring to everything as "HIS") her head. No way was she was taking off the pants.
She got into bed once again, her leg splaying off the bed at an awkward angle. Crying softly, tears ran down her raw cheeks as she slowly drifted off to sleep.
Freddy was completely spasmodic. If he had been temperamental and nasty before it was nothing compared to now. He yanked at the long brown hair sprouting from the top of his head but it hurt. Now, he was actually average looking, but he wanted his body back!
"Ugh!" He roared, slamming a delicate fist into a furnace and cursing with the pain. See? Pain. He wasn't supposed to be feeling it (the deal, the god damned deal!).
"Stop it asshole. You'll damage my body!" A powerful and unsavoury voice called from behind him. He whirled around and saw what could only be, he. It was Lola in his body. You know, I don't even look half bad. Seeing himself from this angle was whole new perspective.He smiled direly, and then gasped.
"What have you done? Where is my sweater?" He snarled.
Lola glanced down at the school spirit wear."Your sweater was itchy..." She burst out laughing. "You look so mad."
"You're dafter than I thought! Of course I'm mad. I'm RAGING! I hate being human. I already stubbed my toe twice and...it hurt!" He snarled.
"So then, I must be invincible now…" She gestured to his body, and demonstrating, smacked her own foot off a boiler. It echoed with a bang, but she felt next to nothing but a slight twinge. She expected the opposite, that he would still remain invincible in her body, and she still human in his. The swap must have been stranger than she ever thought.
"Now what the hell did you do to me?" He demanded.
"Ah, I figured you'd ask me. You see, I found your glove in the cellar. You know, the cellar in the house, with the furnace? Well I put it on and...I started having like a heart attack- well it wasn't a heart attack per se, but it sure as hell felt like one! Well how I only imagine one could feel like, my grandpa, on my mom's side, he had one-"
He rolled his eyes upon her rambling.
"I thought it was your work." She finished lamely.
"Same." He murmured.
"I'm only assuming my trying on the glove caused us to...you're...smart Freddy. You figure something out." She tugged at the brim of his fedora. "Put your thinking hat on." She laughed at her own joke, taking the whole body swap a hell of a lot better than him!
Smart? He'd actually saw himself as more of a criminal mastermind. A genius-and how dare she undermine that.
"For now I'll have just to live in your place and you mine."
Her eyes widened in terror. "Stay here by myself? It's totally creepy! And-and I d-don't want to kill people."
"Stop stuttering!" He snapped.
"S-sorry- I mean sorry. How about I just stay in my room? You can hide me...you know?"
"Well maybe for one day. Until we figure out what we're doing to do about this shit. But that's it, Goddamn it. Then you come straight back here!"
"It's a deal."
He crossed his arms across his chest and then looked down in bewilderment. "Gee, I have tits." He stated the obvious, looking down at the two lumps protruding from his chest.
Lola rolled her eyes, but blushed furiously. If he saw her body naked she would die. Just DIE. She decided not to tell him she was menstruating either. That might not go over too well with him.
"AND DON'T YOU DARE KILL ANYONE!" It struck Lola then- the situation they were really in. Swapping bodies were a mass, supernatural murderer.
"I'm not promising anything." Freddy snapped back. He could get away with so much if he was going to be human again! The supply of children would be endless, and no waiting for bed time! But then he stopped. "Of course I won't, you idiot! I don't want to make you look good."
Good? Killing was good? Yeah, I guess he was famous in that way only notorious serial killers can be.
"So how does it feel to be in such a smokin' bod?" Freddy snickered. She glared at him but then cracked a small smile.
"Shut up, Krueger."