Officer Jackson is gone not a minute before Loomis's cell phone begins ringing harshly, the high pitched squeal an annoying but necessary alarm. Frowning, Loomis hesitates; his mind divided over whether or not the call could be significant. With a sigh, he answers, his entire body tense with fear and anticipation.
"Hello? Is this Samuel Loomis?" the rough female voice on the other end of the line inquires.
Loomis replies tersely, "Yes, please state your business, I am currently dealing with a severe situation, and I am in quite the hurry."
Coughing awkwardly on the other end, the stranger quickly gets to business, "Yes well, what I have to tell you pertains to your so-called situation-" Bad reception interrupts the conversation for a moment before the line clears. "So, as I was saying, we believe Michael stole said car and crashed near Crystal Lake, New Jersey where police discovered the wreckage."
The news stuns Loomis, how was it possible that Michael was already in New Jersey? More importantly why? What could motivate a being such as Michael to abandon his original goals so suddenly? His silence fills the air for what seems like several minutes before he concludes the call, "Thank you...I shall keep that in mind."
Shaking his head, he closes his eyes to concentrate; he needs to piece together the pieces of the puzzle he has gathered so far. The killings and disappearances all started when Michael escaped from his prison underground, which was a result of his failure to kill Jamie, his niece. So why wouldn't she be his first target? Michael was not one to play around; he always went for the kill; which was precisely why he had stationed officers around her house once word of his escape had reached his ears. There must be another factor here, a factor that is perhaps manipulating Michael into making different decisions. This missing factor is troubling considering that Michael IS pure evil, an evil that cannot easily be swayed to one side or another. Figuring out who or what that factor is, would have to be solved later.
Once out of Haddonfield, Michael then headed towards an unknown destination, stopping at a gas station perhaps to steal a vehicle; murdering every occupant in the process. That spree was out of necessity. To get where Michael was planning to go, he needed a car, so it must have been some distance away. Again though, why? Finding or discovering that destination may be vital to unlocking the mystery surrounding the present. It might be a clue as to why Michael is behaving so erratically.
There is a significant gap than between what we know, and what is currently happening. From the unknown destination, Michael must have stolen another vehicle and crashed it in Crystal Lake, New Jersey; Nothing is known in this span of time, and if investigated, it too might answer a few questions. What happened? Who was involved?
Jerked from his reverie, Loomis glares at Jackson as he reenters the vehicle quite loudly, slamming the car door behind him as he does so.
He immediately notices the look on Loomis's worn face, "What is that face for? Were you in the middle of something?" Jackson verbally throws back to Loomis, undoubtedly aware of Loomis's feelings towards him.
Loomis sighs, rubbing his forehead in frustration before he replies, "I was attempting to piece together this mess of a situation. No matter, we know where we have to go to next."
"We do?"
"Yes, I just received a call while you were dilly-dallying in the gas station that informed me that Michael stole a registered car and crashed it near Crystal Lake, New Jersey. Now hurry up and get your seat belt on." Loomis retorts, annoyance clearly written across his face.
Startled, Jackson is shocked into silence as the car starts moving once again. What is up with this old man?
Down below, in the depths of the earth itself, lies a prison made of machinery; boilers pump, and steam clogs the air with an acrid stench. Pipes groan and squeal as the one, and only Freddy Krueger paces back and forth ceaselessly, his claws scraping harshly against the barren walls of his prison. Rage seeps out of his soul in waves of fury, his entire plan of escape and revenge thwarted by a mere man wearing a mask-once again. His constant murmuring and growling fills the toxic air with obscene words accompanied by foul gestures as he continues to pace.
"Of course that fucker can't die, and of course he had to make things more complicated than they were initially meant to be!-" Pausing, he flexes his claws in frustration before resuming his mindless rant. " If those two don't tear each other to bloody pieces, I fucking swear! Now I have two problems to deal with, brainless hockey puck and an overzealous trick or treater! Unless..."
An awful thought begins to form in his twisted mind, the two annoyingly powerful beings are currently at each other's throats, for the time being, neither seeming to have an advantage over the other. However, if he could find another source, a source with enough knowledge of Michael perhaps than maybe he could tip the scale in his favor. With this thought in mind, his eyes light up as he comes to a sudden realization; there is only one person who genuinely seems to understand the depths of Michael's evil, and has attempted to defeat the beast with clever tricks. Doctor Samuel Loomis. Smirking with satisfaction, he uses his surroundings to make a phone appear in his hands, Loomis's number already entered.
"Poor old fool, you're going to become my tool in this game of bloodlust. Poor bastard." Freddy chuckles, proud of the plan he has concocted from the depths of his ingenious mind. Time to enact part one; with a flash of his fiery eyes, Freddy forcefully changes his voice into that of a ladies', rough with a tinge of age dappled into it.
The phone rings quietly as the dream demon waits in anticipation for his latest pawn to answer, eager excitement flowing through his bloodless, deadened veins. Once the click of the line is heard, he launches into his planned spiel, with the voice altered to that of the woman, "Hello? Is this Samuel Loomis?"
Loomis immediately answers, his voice strained and annoyed, "Yes, please state your business, I am currently dealing with a severe situation, and I am in quite the hurry."
As Loomis is talking, Freddy rolls his eyes and thinks, 'well of course he is.' A smile tugs at his lips as he continues on despite the rude retort. "Yes well, what I have to tell you pertains to your so-called situation-" Bad reception interrupts the conversation for a moment before the line clears. "So, as I was saying, we believe Michael stole said car and crashed near Crystal Lake, New Jersey where police discovered the wreckage."
Silence fills the line for several moments in which Freddy is silently laughing at the naivety of this supposed doctor. 'Man, it's hard to believe that this is the same doctor that has hunted down Myers for years and still lives.' he chuckles to himself, and within seconds Loomis thanks him and quickly ends the call.
"Now-" Freddy snarls, "Now it's time to enact part two of this marvelous plan.' It only takes moments for Krueger to arrive where he can plant the seeds of manipulation and distrust, his toothy grin flashing as he does the deed and gloats over yet another pawn in his game.
"Oh Jackson, your mind is like that of clay, so pliable and stretchy...it would be a shame if someone were to rearrange it, wouldn't it? Well don't worry my newfound friend, Uncle Freddy will take good care of your fleshy mind!" Krueger cackles, claws swinging into the cracks of the officer's mind, rendering the young man utterly vulnerable to the wishes of Freddy Krueger; the man who haunted the dreams of the children of Elm Street.