Queen Serenity: This story is quite possibly the hardest I've ever written… because, as I said, Jireziah is, truly, from the nightmares of my past. What's going to be really hard is him and Freddy fighting… Especially since I don't know much about Jireziah himself, so I may have to make some stuff up. It's going to be fun, though, having Molly interact with Freddy.
Title: Fighting Fire With Fire
Author: Queen Serenity
Fandom: A Nightmare On Elm Street
Chapter: Two
Later that day, after just barely making it through her school day, as usual, Molly was finally home. Finally, she could make her way to her room… and get some well-needed rest.
She leaned against her doorway and looked at her bed for a moment, thinking, and decided against it. She really needed a bath, anyway… and, if she drowned in her sleep, oh well. She just didn't care either way anymore. Everything was just so… so numb. She made her way through each day, but had found over the last year that she was 'feeling' less and less. The other day, when at the park with her father and sister, a young child had fallen off of the slide's stairs, hitting his head. An ambulance had been called, since the kid had been unconscious, and she had found herself watching the scene without any concern… just detachment, as though she weren't even human.
Dropping her backpack on the bed, she turned to leave the room, but caught sight of herself in the mirror.
Herself: She had to admit, she wasn't beautiful… not in her eyes. Perhaps pretty, on her good days, but never beautiful. But usually… she was just average, you know? A pale freckled face which was, in her opinion, slightly too round… like she perhaps needed to drop a couple of pounds.
Her eyes, at least, she knew were pretty. They were usually blue-gray, not an unusual shade of it, but they could change colors. The happier she was, the bluer they got; the sadder she was, the grayer they became… and the more excited or angry she was, the greener they became. Her lips were rather thin, especially her top one, which had a little scar in it from her getting stabbed in the lip with a pen during recess in fourth grade.
Her nose wasn't small, nor was it big… unfortunately, though, her nostrils always flared really big when she got excited, nervous, or embarrassed. Not very fun, I tell you. She was about 5 '3' or 5 '4'. She was really unhappy about her height, always feeling that she was short. Way too short. Very annoying, to have to stare up at everyone when you're talking to them.
Her hair was definitely her most noticeable feature, though. Very curly, and, unless she gelled it, usually frizzy. She put gel or mousse it each night before bed, though, hoping to be sure it would be tame in the morning. It usually helped, and she only had to rearrange a few curls then. It was reddish-gold in color, and the curls were spiral curls which fell to the middle of her back at the longest part. Even when it was all gelled, though, it was usually quite wild-looking, though pretty.
As for her shape… well, let's just say she was curvy. Round hips, and she was rather large on top, a fact which she cursed daily. As for her middle… well, she wasn't skinny, but nor was she fat. She was simply average.
Right now, though, her skin was rather paler than usual, and her eyes didn't have so much of their usual sparkle. Her eyes were ringed, like she hadn't been sleeping, and, looking at them, a person would find themselves wondering how old this girl was, if they didn't know her actual age; she looked so much older than she actually was. Her eyes looked like she had seen more than a girl of her age ever should have seen, like she was aged beyond her years.
She'd grabbed a towel and ran herself a hot bath, and then slipped slowly into the water, letting herself relax. She closed her eyes, thinking.
Jireziah… She'd been dreaming of that bastard for five years now. Several times, she'd tried to take control of her dreams, but it hadn't worked. She'd fought him, over and over, in so many ways that it was ridiculous. She could remember… the first time she'd dreamed of him, she'd come into a large fancy-looking church to find her friend, Angela, praying there under an open domed skylight, the light of the full moon shining down on her.
The scene had looked so beautiful and serene that she could not help just standing there, watching…
And then He'd come.
Down through the skylight he'd come, with an engraved dagger in his hand. He'd landed near Angela, and the girl hadn't even noticed… but Molly had. He'd then been wearing his pants and sash, but no shirt… She'd seen the man look right at her, and then given an evil grin. He'd raised the sword above her kneeling friend, and Molly had tried to move, to cry out, anything… but… she couldn't move. She couldn't do a thing.
Right then, Angela had raised her eyes, and had noticed Molly. She'd risen to her feet, still not noticing the man, and had raised her hand in greeting, opening her mouth, obviously about to say 'Hi'. Before she even got the word out, though, the man had grinned again at Molly and driven the dagger through Angela's back.
Angela had looked down at the blade sticking out of her chest in shock, and then looked back up at Molly, seeming to ask… 'why?'. And then she'd fallen, dead.
The man had then turned from Molly to remove the blade from the corpse, and she had caught sight of the tattoo on his back. It was of a large green, yellow, and red dragon, black stripes on it, and the dragon seemed almost alive, staring at Molly. She blinked then, and when she looked again, the dragon was looking towards the corpse. She'd notice later that, although she never actually saw it move, the dragon was always shifting positions, like it moved whenever she wasn't looking.
The man had carelessly wiped the blade on Angela's clothes, and put it in a sheath strapped across his back. He'd seen that Molly was still trying to move, and smirked. He moved towards her, and Molly'd tried to move away, but… she still hadn't been able to move.
He'd spoken, and, as soon as he had, she'd somehow known his name. "You shouldn't bother to try, you know, Keeper. You can't protect her, you can't protect anyone… no matter how hard you try, you'll never be able to stop me, Guardian."
Molly had looked confused, but fury had filled her eyes. This was her dream… who was he to be in it? "…What? Who are you!"
He'd grinned viciously, showing his too-perfect white teeth. "It doesn't matter. You can't stop me, Serenity."
"Don't call me that! That's not my name!" She'd found she could move once more and had hunched down, rocking back and forth, seeing Angela's corpse again. She had said, over and over, almost like a mantra, "This is just a dream… just a dream… just a dream…"
He'd smirked, and pulled a silver nail out of nowhere, then grabbed her hand. "Just a dream, huh?" He'd pricked her palm rather hard, and she'd suddenly woken up.
She'd been sleeping with her hands under her pillow, and had awakened in a cold sweat. When she'd felt a pain in her hand and pulled it out to look at it, she had found that she was bleeding. Eventually, the small wound had healed, of course, but it had left a little scar there.
The bastard had hurt her since then in so many ways, she couldn't even remember them all. Slowly, she was becoming numb to it all… she'd just started to not care.
Except for the pain…
Relaxing in the tub, she started shaving, but accidentally nicked herself with the razor. It was a rather nasty one, too, the blood seeping out slowly to mix with the water. She pressed lightly on the wound, watching the blood well up lightly around her finger, and a small smile crossed her face at the sensation. Pain, it seemed, was a pleasure to her anymore. It reminded her that she was here, that she was still alive, and not some puppet whose strings can't be pulled. Slowly, she had come to realize that… she actually enjoyed the pain.
She had been able to, though, keep Jireziah from realizing this… so far.
She couldn't live with this anymore, though… she had to find some way out. There was one… person… whom had been in her dreams even longer than Jireziah. The one that had been there for as long as she could remember… Jareh. He didn't show up very often anymore, though. It was like he didn't want to cross Jireziah too much.
Done shaving, she lay back in the tub and closed her eyes, letting herself relax bit by bit. It only worked sometimes, but she had to try… She let her consciousness drift, thinking just one thing…
Jareh…I need your council, my friend… please…
The girl walked along the beach, the wind blowing her hair, tousling it gently. She kept walking without thinking, and eventually saw a figure in the distance.
Getting closer, she could see that it was him. It was Jareh.
Jareh: He was a man about 6'1', Jireziah's height. His face was long and narrow, and had high cheekbones and a strong chin. An attractive face, to be sure, at least in her opinion. Looking at him, you'd think him to be about mid to late twenties. He had large eyes that were quite old-looking, though… like they held the knowledge and wisdom of a thousand lifetimes that he had already lived, like he'd seen millions upon millions of sunrises and sunsets. They were quite unusual, too… one light blue, one dark blue. They were topped by heavy but well-groomed brows.
His hair was sort of wild looking, looking more like a light blonde mane than hair, and came down to the middle of his back.
Right now, he wore snug light gray pants, and a matching peasant shirt with the top several buttons undone, showing his lightly muscled chest.
He sat on a large pile of rocks, looking out across the horizon, and didn't seem to notice as she walked up. Careful not to slip, she climbed up to the top of the rocks to seat herself beside him, drawing her knees up and wrapping her arms loosely around them. He spoke then, his voice quiet but clear:
"You know that I cannot directly help you, Serenity, as much as I would like to… so why do you bother to ask?"
She sighed. "I know, Jareh, I know… I've figured out as much already, and I know you won't tell me why, no matter how much I ask. But… can't you give me some advice, at least?"
He didn't look at her. "Perhaps. Tell me your thoughts, Serenity."
And so she did. "I'm tired… I feel like, as Bilbo Baggins once said, butter scraped over too much bread. I'm becoming numb, and it scares me. I force myself not to react to… him… and what he does, but it's starting to take its toll, I think. And as for physical pain… well, it seems to have become, in a sense, a pleasure for me." Her voice was choked slightly. "I'm starting to scare myself, Jareh. I'm changing, it seems, and not for the better. I just can't deal with this. I won't kill myself, I'm not that stupid… but… I don't care what the alternative is, I need to find a way away from him, or even to stop him."
When Jareh spoke next, his voice was just above a whisper. "Are you completely sure, Serenity?"
Her voice was confused. "…What?"
"That you don't care what the alternative is. That you don't care about the risks."
"Of course I'm sure… why do you ask?"
He seemed reluctant to reply, but did. "I may have a solution for you, then… but… it could be the greater of two evils, I'm not sure. You understand me, do you not? If you choose this path, you may end up in a situation worse than the one you're in now."
She swallowed, and sat there, thinking hard for an unknown period of time, before answering. "I'm sure of my decision, Jareh. I don't care."
"Then you must seek out the one who may be able to stop 'him'… Freddy Krueger." He spat the name, like it was vile on his tongue.
"Freddy Krueger? Who… is that?" She wondered who this could be, with this human-sounding name, that he could maybe help her, but that he could perhaps be even more evil than Jireziah.
"It is better if I show you, rather than tell you. Is that what you want? This… this may seem similar to what 'he' does…"
She was adamant. "Show me. And then tell me what to do."
So he pressed his fingers to her temples and told her, in that way, all about Freddy. But, unlike with Jireziah, she felt no pain when he did it.
And then he pulled away, and he could see in her expression that her mind was made up.
"You might die, Serenity, if you do this. Or perhaps he may do something worse to you…"
She shook her head. "He couldn't do worse than Jireziah. And if I die, so what… at least then I'll finally be free. I'm not afraid."
And so, albeit regretfully, he told her what she would need to do.
A knock at the bathroom door sounded, and, as she faded away, he couldn't help but worry that this would perhaps be the last time that he would see her.
QS: I would have went into detail of what she saw of Freddy, but if you're reading this you probably know all that you'd need to know. Sorry no actual Freddy entrance yet. Next chapter, though, he will show up. Okay? Geeze, I'm so unsure of this as I go along… but… I'm trying.