Chapter 11

For two years, Klarc had sat in the bleak, white nothingness of the afterlife. Waiting and waiting, but for what, he did not know. He was stuck. Nothing to do, nothing to see. He could not even tell what he looked like anymore.

But it didn't matter. He was dead, and nothing could bring him back from this afterlife except Freddy. The fucking dream master. Maybe I should have gone to jail, he had found himself thinking a lot.

But with all this time on his hands, Klarc looked at the large picture of himself. Finding details of himself that he did not like, the inside of him was reeling, and he looked at every part of his life with contempt.

Some things he did not understand about himself, about the way he had acted in instances when he really felt a strong emotion. Klarc felt that the whole of his life was wasted on drugs and alcohol, not feeling like he did enough in the time that was given to him.

Which was true. Alcohol and drugs, sometimes used at the same time, had taken everything away from him. All of his time was spent on these substances, that shit, and he actually felt sorry for himself. The buzz had seemed nice at first, but when he looked back at what he had done, he was ashamed and he felt frustrated and furious at his parents.

Ohhh, he thought. My parents. The feeling in his gut now was of anger, and he thought of their faces. But being away from them, never really knowing them, seemed to blur his thoughts, and he couldn't come with a visual of their appearance, let alone their personalities.

Somehow, Jessie and Chris were to blame for this. His death, his staying in this... Purgatory! He could blame it all on them, the pain and suffering in his life. Although, deep inside, he knew this was not true.

Klarc noticed that around him the whiteness of the blank space had changed to a deep, blood red. He knew what this meant. Freddy had killed again. This space changed colors often, and Klarc had grown accustomed to the dark red. When this happened, a portal opened in frront of him, allowing him to see the victim, in their agony and pain as they were dying.

It was a lady, a nice looking lady that looked like she worked at a diner. And Jessie was standing behind her. Just as Freddy had administered the final blow, a knife to the head, Jessie ran, and Freddy was unable to see where she went.

Klarc was actually interested. His personality had changed in these two years, becoming more evil as he saw more and more people killed at the hands of Freddy. Klarc wanted to try this; killing people seemed fun to him. And he had to assume that the reason he was in this blank space was because Freddy wanted -needed- him for something.

Damn it felt good to be needed.

Freddy looked through the portal. Mysteriously, confusingly, he was the only other one that could see the portal. "Where the fuck did she go?" he asked, looking around the room to see if Jessie was hiding.

"She ran out of the room. I think she may be going to school."

"Ok. Screw her for right now. I need your help. This is the part where you come in." And suddenly Freddy was standing beside Klarc. "I need you to help me in this ritual.You are the only one who can do it, because you have hatred in you, hatred just like me. Because in some ways, you are just like me. The ritual will help me travel to the real world, not just a dream world where I can only kill sleeping people. I crave more, and I have a sort of grudge against Chris. A big grudge."

"Well, what do I do?"

"All you have to do is stand there. Now I will perform the ritual." Freddy took his clawed hand and cut himself on the arm. He put a vial underneath the cut, and blood dripped into it. "Your turn," he said, and he slashed Klarc's arm. He put the same vial underneath Klarc's cut, and Klarc's blood mixed with Freddy's. "Now, I drink this." Freddy lifted the vial to his mouth and downed the substance.

"And for the final part. I SEND YOU TO HELL!" Freddy lifted his hands and snapped his fingers. Klarc's body seemed to drop through the now black space, where he sunk through into flames below. "Oh, sorry. I didn't tell you that the ritual needed a sacrifice for me to be transported to the living." With that, Freddy's body seemed to fold up, and he appeared outside, with the black clouds covering the sky.

"Now this is my favorite part," Freddy cried as he sharpened his claws on the metal sign, creating a loud screaching noise.

A couple across the street looked over, startled at the sound. They saw the claws on Freddy's hands, and his hideously burnt face, and took off running down the street.

"Humanity's in for some trouble. I don't fuck around, and I won't give up until the fucker Chris is lying in his own blood."

A man standing at the corner looked at him, shocked at what Freddy had just said.

"What are you looking at?" Freddy asked, and with one swift swipe, chopped through the man's neck with his claws. He picked up a metal pole lying on a lawn that was being worked on, and stuck the head on it. "Matches, I need matches!"

Freddy walked to the nearest store, a block away, carrying the pole with the head on it in his hands like a totem pole. He walked into the store, and the man behind the counter saw the head and tried to run. Freddy jumped in front of him, said "Where the fuck are you going?", and shoved the pole down the clerks open mouth. When Freddy was sure he was dead, he pulled the pole out and exclaimed, "Service around here is really bad!"

He walked to the counter, where a Bic lighter case was sitting. He grabbed one, flipped the switch, and lit the head on the pole on fire. He walked out of the store, ready to spread fear.

"Freddy's back, bitches!" he screamed as he walked down the street, the head burning brightly through the darkness of the day.