A Brand New Nightmare
Sleep, my children, sleep. There's plenty enough of me to go around. And round. And round.
The dream started off wonderfully. Katherine was a girl again, running through a field. Flowers bloomed everywhere in a riot of color, tickling her bare legs as she ran. She wore a white dress and her brown hair was done up in pigtails, just like Mama had always done her hair then. She felt free, more free than she had in years, and she laughed, a sound full of childish wonder and delight. The sun had been shining, and it felt good on her upturned face.She never wanted to end.
The the rain had started.
It had felt nice at first. Warm little droplets splattering her. Then the rain had turned cold, hard, pelting her with bits of ice. Confused, then slightly afraid, she'd turned and run, trying to find a warm, dry place to hide from the rain. That's when the field of flowers had vanished. She'd turned, having the worst feeling of something behind her. That's when she'd smacked something hard. Turning, she found herself facing a brick wall pressed against her nose. She was more suprised at its appearance than hurt from running into it, and, puzzled, she'd turned to go back the way she'd come. That's when she'd found herself on the street.
What the...???
It was a street she'd never seen before, yet it seemed oddly familiar to her. There was nowhere else to go, so she let her feet lead her down the walk. She didn't want to go, but she'd felt oddly compelled to walk. Walking was better than the alternative, standing still and giving her brain time to think about her situation. Thinking led to
Him
bad things. So she'd walked, and walked, and walked. The walk had seemed endless. Stopping for a moment, Katherine closed her eyes to try to sort things out. When she opened them again, she was startled to find herself in front of a house. It was one of those scary houses, old and falling apart. A cracked walk led to the front door, which hung crookedly in its jamb. The yard was a neglected wilderness of weeds and dead flowers. But there were children playing in the front yard. Skipping rope like they didn't have a care in the world. All the children were blond and wearing white, all white, much like her own dress. She looked down and was stunned to see her chest, a woman's chest, breasts sticking out in a prominent display of womanhood. Puzzled she frowned, then looked up again. The kids were still playing, singing something that sounded like a chant of sorts.
One, two, Freddy's coming for you. Three, four, better lock your doors....
Katherine wondered what sort of song they were singing. She didn't have time to think more on it, though, because a little blond girl peddled up to her on a shiny red tricycle. The girl couldn't have been more than maybe five years old. The girl stopped at Katherine's feet and offered a sunny smile. Somewhat appeased, though still troubled, Katherine smiled back.
"Hi," the girl said. "What's your name?"
"Katherine," she replied. "What's yours?"
"My name's Maggie. Did you come to play?" the girl asked.
Katherine frowned. She didn't know anybody named Maggie, let alone any young kids, but for some reason the name touched off a spark of recognition in her. She frowned again, then answered the girl.
"No, I didn't come to play, sweetie," Kathering crooned. "I came to..." came to what? she wondered. Again, she didn't have time to sort out exactly why she was there, as the little girl had started to ride her bike in circles around Katherine, softly singing to herself.
"You really should come inside to play with us, Kathy," the girl said. "We get ever so lonely here. This is where he lives, and he hasn't brought us anyone to play with in a long time. We get lonely. But you could come play with us, Kathy. We can have so much fun together." With that, the little girl veered away from Katherine and headed for the house. The other kids stopped jumping rope and followed the girl to the front door.
"Wait!" Katherine yelled, giving chase. The other children kept filing into the house, but the little girl on the bike stopped long enough to look back at her. "We have to go in," she said. "He's been gone a long time, but now he's home and he gets mad if we don't come when he calls. You really should come with us. We get lonely...." with that, she scooted off her trike and toddled into the house. Katherine was truly concerned now and gave chase. She was afraid of the house, but she was more afraid of the little girl's words and the other children entering what seemed the door to Hell. So she followed, thinking only of their safety, perhaps getting them out of the house if she had to. Katherine raced up the steps and into the house. Inside, she got a shock. The house was well-kept, seemed freshly painted, freshly carpeted, and the furniture was brand new. Maybe I was wrong? she thought. Maybe this really is a nice place, it just looks bad from the outside but it's really a nice place. Run by an old man, perhaps, who takes care of the kids but can't, or hasn't, gotten around to fixing the outside just yet. Maybe he needs some help finishing the place.
Katherine turned to go back out, intending to see the house number so she could remember it, perhaps call one of the producers of her show to see what they could do about helping, when she got another shock. The door, which had been about to fall from its hinges only a moment before, was now closed. Firmly. Locking her in. With a little shriek of suprise, Katherine lept at it, grabbing the handle and turning with strength borne of newly discovered fear. The door held, refusing to respond to her desire to open it. That's when she heard a voice. It was calling her name, a low, gutteral voice full of mocking hatred and glee. Despite herself, Katherine turned around and saw that the formerly pristine room was now in a shocking state of decay. Moldering wallpaper and bits of carpet were everywhere, rotten furniture and fallen beams. Shocked and blinking, Katherine could only stand riveted to the spot, watching as the children filed in again, only this time they were little cadavers, tiny corpses all pointing and chanting at her.
Hush, little baby, don't you cry,
Freddy's gonna sing a lullabye.
And when his lullabye is through
That will be the end of you.
Katherine started to cry, but found she still couldn't move. A shadow appeared on the staircase, coming down. She couldn't see anything but the shadow, though it was approaching, step by awful slow step. And she still couldn't move. And the kids were still singing that blasted song.
At his hour of greatest need,
Freddy's here to steal your seed.
The game begins again, he plays for keeps
When he comes a-callin', no one sleeps.
Sobbing with fear, Katherine turned and all but clawed at the door. She had to get out of here! But the door stubbornly refused to budge. And she felt something behind her, a presence, evil as anything she could imagine. Katherine refused to turn around again, even when she felt a body press against her back. A man's body, she judged, even as she continued to twist at the doorknob. A slimy tongue ran over the ridge of her ear and the body pressed closer with sickening familiarity. She still didn't turn even though her stomach caved in on itself with terror. The voice was at her ear now, rough at first, but sliding in register until it was a voice she recognized, had hoped to never hear again. Dale!
"Hey pretty," the voice oozed against her ear. "Still fucking your black stallion?" Katherine almost turned then and there to slap the shit out of Dale, but something deep in her told her that would be a big mistake, so she stayed plastered to the door, still twisting at the knob and praying silently that she be allowed to escape. "Dale" was only amused by her antics; he kept talking, almost crooning in her ear as she sought to free herself.
"He'll never have you," 'Dale' said to her back. "He'll never have you the way I will, every night. Do you really think that's his bastard you're carrying inside you? The baby's mine bitch, and you are too! One big, happy fuckin' family." The voice changed again, turning darker, more sinister. Katherine felt an arm slide around her waist and she fought it with everything she had in her, though it did no good. A palm pressed against her stomach.
"Let Daddy see what's going on in here," the voice grated. Clawed fingernails tore through her nightgown and Katherine screamed as the hand became more insistant, digging into her stomach, which suddenly grew, swelling far larger than it should be at only four months along. She looked down in time to see the claws tear into her flesh; blood seeped from the cuts as "Dale's" voice called out triumphantly "Contact!!! Come to Daddy, you little fucker!" Another hand tore at her shoulder, spinning her around even as the claws at her stomach dug in deeper. The pain was unbearable. She screamed yet again, looking up into a hellish face, burnt and scarred beyond recognition. Insane eyes leered down at her, partially hidden by a dark brown Fedora hat. She got a glimpse of a dirty, torn red-and-green striped sweater before she was jerked closer to the man.
"They're mine, MINE! You're all my children now! You're gonna help me get back to Springwood, bitch, you and your brats!" The man lifted the claws from her stomach and raised them over his head. Instinctively, Katherine struck out at his face, trying to get away. She heard screaming and her name being repeated, but she didn't care. She only thought about getting out, getting away, defending herself and her
babies?
child before this crazy thing pretending to be a man hurt them.
"Dr. Krueger? Katherine? Katherine, snap out of it, snap OW, SHIT!!!"
Katherine looked up in time to see Mark Williams, one of the camera people on her crew, as his head snapped back, his pale hand flying up to hold his nose, now streaming blood. She thought crazily for a moment that whoever screaming really needed to stop so she could think, then realized the one screaming was her. She struggled a bit longer against the arms holding her, then dimly became aware of Alan, her Alan, holding her, his dark face pale with worry as he gently shook her. He was saying something but she couldn't make out the words. She was babbling over him, telling Mark she was sorry, telling them all she was sorry, that she was just trying to get away from the man. Then she stopped, wildly looking around. She was on the set of her show, and everyone was looking at her with varying expressions of dismay, concern, or, in Mark's case, glaring balefully at her. She gently pushed Alan away and stood.
"I...I'm sorry. I have to use the lady's room." She shook her head at Alan, who was still asking her if she was okay, what had happened. She shrugged off his grasping arms and fled to the employee's restroom, ignoring the shocked looks and well-meaning questions as she locked herself into the room. Katherine leant against the door a few seconds, drawing in a ragged breath as she tried to pull herself together and figure out what had happened. She stood and walked over to the sink, turning on the water and letting it warm. She was just about to bend over to scoop up some water to splash her face with when a sharp pain from her stomach made her pause. She looked down and saw ragged gashes in her shirt, seeping blood. What the HELL?? she wondered, then reached down to open the rips in her shirt. Four cuts appeared across her abdomen, shallowly seeping blood. Katherine lifted her bloody fingers to eye level, then burst into tears.
"What's happening to me? To my baby?" she wondered out loud. A hellish chuckle sounded beside her and her head snapped up to the mirror above the sink. The ghostly image of the burnt man appeared behind her, wrapping his arms around her again as he bent to her ear.
"I've come to claim our babies, Katherine. This is only the beginning, bitch." the voice cackled again and Katherine screamed for the umpteenth time, striking out at the mirror, suceeding in hurting her hand as turned and clawed at yet another door, seeking escape. The man was nowhere to be seen, but his chuckle followed her out into the main room as she literally ran into Alan, whose arms immediately came up protectively around his lady.
"What happened, Kathy?" his face loomed above hers, love, fear, and concern in his eyes. She could only shake her head before she blacked out. Alan lifted her in his strong arms and carried her to a couch, screaming for someone to get a doctor. The last thing Katherine noticed was Alan's arms, holding her, that and the hellish laughter that sought to follow her into the blackness.
