I tore through the last remnants of my nightmare screaming. A long scream that seared my vocal chords, a scream that took priority over breathing, and even made my head hurt. I had only stopped screaming when I ran out of breath to continue, which had me immediately gasping for much needed oxygen as a result.

I sat there, sucking in air and exhaling it out greedily like a fish that had been deprived of water for days. I had my eyes screwed shut as I violently trembled on my bed. I didn't want to open my eyes. I was afraid of finding out if this was one of those dream-within-a-dream situations. Yet I knew the opening of my eyes was an inevitable fate. Sooner or later, when I got my breathing back under control, I would need to open them and see. See that I was in fact safe and not about to be eaten by my fake family members.

You've got to open your eyes.

My head swung stubbornly from side to side, squeezing them even tighter closed if that were possible. No doubt I looked like I had swallowed a lemon whole.

Look, there's no way you're going to wind up in a third awful nightmare. Right? That stuff just doesn't happen! You'll open your eyes, you'll be in bed. Everything will be fine! You'll see!

I wasn't convinced. What if I opened my eyes only to see the Hellish versions of my family right there in front of me? Smiling? Drooling offal? What if they're waiting to swarm me and eat me and-

SHUT UP! SHUT UP! NO MORE OF THAT. Just stop for a second. Breeeaathe, Jennifer.

I took a long, shuddering breath in.

You're obviously sitting up. You've got to be in bed, so feel around. I did just that, though warily. Sure enough my hands came into contact with the recognizable fluff of my blanket. See? Run your hands over your bed, feel it. You're fine. You're okay. The cleansing breath I had taken in was slowly exhaled out. I grabbed and groped at my blanket, running my palms over the soft texture. In doing this my heart rate began to slow.

Now do you really think that if they were there, they'd be politely waiting to feast on your organs until you looked? Of course not. They'd swarm me like a scene from a zombie movie. I would have already been dead a while ago. Exactly! So open your eyes. Quick. Just do it. Like a band-aid. Like mom says.

I really didn't want to, but I found myself shakily repeating aloud; "L-Like a band-aid. Like a band-aid." Tensing, I quickly craned my head down to look into my lap. My eyes popped open and instantly blinked again and again against the glare of the sun streaming into my room. The long curtain of my hair helped shield some of the light's intensity. Getting my breathing under further control, I stared at the little penguins that made up my pajama bottoms. I had been right. I was in bed. I was in my room and it was daytime. Daytime. No more nightmares. No more monsters.

Brushing my hair away, I dared to look around.

An enormous and instinctive sigh of relief escaped me. My room was empty. Just me. There were no monsters, nor were there any of my cannibalistic family members. I was alone in my room. The only thing keeping me company was the insistent shine of the sun.

I fell backwards and gulped down another thankful helping of air. My hands ran themselves through my tresses as I continued to calm; "I'm okay," Even as I said the words, I struggled between shrinking skepticism and relief. "It was just a stupid nightmare." Thank fucking God. I couldn't remember a time that I had ever been so relieved. Alright, I've had enough of this bed. I'll get up, I'll brush my teeth, and I'll head down to talk to mom and dad. Sound like a plan?

I nodded to myself and exhaled briskly; "Sounds like a plan." I was nearly tempted to laugh in the thrill of my gratitude.

Shaking away the urge to, I swung my legs over the side of my mattress and set both feet on the floor. Rubbing away any last bits of fatigue from my countenance, I shuffled out of my bedroom and down the hall. The house was just as serene as I had hoped it would be and just as bright. It was the way it would normally look in the morning. Thankfully there was no weird glow or faux sensation of forced peac-

Crreeaaak.

It was as if time had frozen. The foot that I had set forward remained glued to its place as I came to a complete sudden stop in the middle of the hallway. I stared at nothing while I felt my lips part. A long, slow chill cascaded through me as if I'd just been under an upturned bucket of ice.

With how cautiously my gaze traveled down south to look at the floorboard, a snail could have accomplished the task faster. How.. God had to be kidding. Apparently he thought he was a comedian because this was.. No. Noo, we're not doing this. We're not! It took so much of my self-control to wrestle my gaze away from the floor. It was just a stupid fucking dream, Jennifer! It's a coincidence, that's all! But how could I possibly dream about something like that? Something so trivial? Had I even known that that particular floorboard was creaky before?

Good God I had to get a hold of myself, or else I was going to start second-guessing reality. I blew out a breath and let both hands massage at my temple. Stupid. Just stupid! I was awake! This wasn't a dream anymore!

Brush your goddamn teeth and let's go!

That's what I needed. I needed to rinse away the nonsense clouding my brain. Let the ordinary everyday chore erase my dumb worries. I headed towards the restroom a bit too quickly, as if by taking too long my horrible thoughts would miraculously prove themselves right. Pushing my way into the bathroom, I went to the sink to begin my morning routine. Once I had my bedhead sorted, my teeth brushed, and my face washed, I'd finally shake away the sleep and be ready for the day.

With the bathroom door shut behind me, I took a minute to really look at myself in the mirror. My hair was an absolute mess. It wasn't a mystery as to why. I both looked and felt like shit. What a great way to start the morning. I sighed and reached for the wooden knobs of the mirror cabinet to open it. Reaching for my hairbrush, toothbrush, and toothpaste, I sorted through the fleeting images of my already fading night terrors. Having two nightmares in the same night couldn't be a great sign, could it? Wasn't that a bad omen or something? Grandma Irme would likely refer to it as a case of 'bad juju'. Both of my parents had been doubtful about the concept, but my grandmother had been a devout believer in it as long as I had known her; Which admittedly hadn't been too long.

Grandma Irme had been an eccentric woman. While my siblings and I hadn't known her very well, my parents were firmly insistent about her being a terrific lady nonetheless. A lot of her belongings were even stored up in the attic.

The attic.

I slowed in my brushing, looking over the length of my hair quietly. A lot of people were convinced dreams had various meanings, most of which were psychological. If that were really the case with dreams, then what the hell did it say about me imagining my family eating bits of dead people? I shivered hard. I wasn't sure if I even wanted to know the answer to that.

Recollecting the terrible time that I had had in the attic reminded me of my other nightmare. I had dreamt that a bunch of psychos broke into my house in the middle of the night and were trying to kill me, or...Take me hostage, or something...My head was shaking at how ridiculous that sounded. I wasn't excited to learn what that said about me either. Although mom and dad would likely get a kick out of it. I'll tell them about it when I get downstairs.

Setting the brush back inside the cabinet, I set to work on brushing my teeth and washing my face. The normalcy of the task had me feeling much better and additionally I was quickly becoming less sluggish, less dead. When I had completely finished, I studied my reflection in the mirror a second time. I fluffed my hair, smoothed myself down, and gave a final nod of satisfaction.

"I'm okay."

Time for some breakfast. I'm starving!

I smiled to myself before I could help it. My thought had sounded a lot like something Alysson would say. One would think being so small would mean the kid would eat like a bird. As if. More like a horse. She'd been essentially inhaling her food ever since she had been able to chew. Seeing as no one else in my family had such a voracious appetite, it was a wonder where she even got it from.

I finally exited the restroom and made my way towards the stairs, looking about. Just as I had hoped, I spied nothing insidious or suspicious along the way. With every step I took, it further propelled my mind into ease. I wouldn't let myself think and overanalyze the creepiness of the noisy floorboard. Other than tormenting myself, there was simply no reason to. And with the house looking just like it always did, it seemed as though I had finally left my nightmares where they belonged, in the past, in the dark. Walking down the last step had completely sealed away any remaining bits of doubt I had, any last pieces of fear.

Hearing familiar voices talk and chatter from inside the kitchen, it emboldened in me a sense of safety. I planted my hand on the door and pushed my way in, my other hand rubbing at the slight ache in my forehead from all of my earlier screaming. My eyes had closed to focus on properly rubbing away the pain, so when the room went completely silent upon my arrival, my mind delayed in taking that as a bad sign.

"Mom, dad, you're never going to believe this," I let out an embarrassed laugh and shook my head, eyes still closed. "I hardly believe it myself, but I had this crazy dream that these people came bursting into our house last night and-" I never got to finish the rest of my sentence.

My eyes had opened.

I froze.

Suffice to say, it wasn't mom or dad that was listening.

It was them.

Them. THEM! THEM!

My brain was screaming the word.

The monsters. The intruders. The unwanted guests. The events of the night prior raced across the forefront of my slack-jawed mind. The memories blinded me, whirring like an awful film reel from a movie projector. Their names, their voices, their cruel laughter, all of it hit me like a goddamn truck. Yet I didn't stumble back from the internal blow. I didn't fall away from the mental impact. I just stood there: A statue covered in flesh. I just stood there and stared at them as if I could not for the life of me believe what I was fucking seeing, my lips forever parted in words that would not come.

I was forced to watch as amusement crept onto their faces. They openly watched me, no doubt wondering if I would scream, if I would cry, if I would run. Hell, I hardly knew myself.

My vision swam ever so slightly. I..I think I'm going to pass out..

Was I? I had never fainted before. Was this what it felt like? I always thought it was ludicrous when women in films became so hysterical, so gobsmacked, so overstimulated that they downright crumpled like tissue paper all the way to the ground. Now it didn't seem the slightest bit far-fetched. Despite that, somehow my legs did not buckle. Truthfully they felt as though they were bolted to the floor and would be planted there for all eternity.

I so badly wanted to move. I wanted nothing more than to hurl my weight in the opposite direction and run screaming for the front door. I wanted to lose myself in the crunch of the grass and the slap of my bare feet on the pavement. I wanted to be anywhere, anywhere but here. But my body would not budge. It would not listen. I was quite accurately a deer in headlights and they knew it.

The silence continued to stretch and would go on stretching unt-

The doll. Chucky. He cleared his throat awkwardly, his hand raising to uncomfortably scratch the back of his red hair; "So uh, you gonna come in or what?" I could barely hear him from how loud my breath was in my ears. I might as well have swallowed cotton. The question was conversational, casual, which seemed to drive my numb, dumb panic into overdrive. They wanted to kill me. They could have killed me. They didn't, but I knew they could and yet here we are, staring at one another. They would not kill me...For now.

The thought was a bolt of lightning through my body, lighting my nerves aglow like panic light bulbs. My body was charged with overwhelming fright but it would not move...For the most part that is. I myself barely realized that my right foot was minutely sliding backwards. So slowly one wouldn't recognize it unless you were looking for it.

Little did I know, Freddy had definitely noticed.

Oh he noticed alright. Even before Jennifer had been able to begin the slow slide of her foot, he knew. The dream demon was more than accustomed to body language when it came to fear. He'd seen all types of it firsthand. He liked to think he was somewhat of an expert when it came to unedited, unbridled, raw 'shitting your pants' fear. There were variants of it, but it was all the same, sweet sensation that had fueled him repeatedly throughout the years. So when Jennifer had waltzed right into the room and her movement died immediately? That's when he knew she was a runner. Knew it with the confidence of a man that had been courting fear for years, and fear had been the best fuck he'd ever had.

Freddy tried to contain his grin at the thought, his eyes wandering down to study her legs. The pajama bottoms weren't too long. In fact they stopped just past the knees, currently allowing him and anyone else the view of her legs. Nice legs, too. Although what he found most attractive about them right now was the fact that her leg muscles were tensing, tightening with the demand of fear. The sloth-like movement of her foot sliding back meshed well with the hardening of the muscles. He slowly slid off the wall into a proper stand, preparing for what he knew would happen.

She may not have known it herself, but this little doe was going to run. And he was going to catch her when she did.

So when the instant came when her upper body whirled to flee, Freddy was the first to react. He sprung into action the same time his excitement bloomed. The thrill of the chase was always there, always lurking just below the surface. Sure he could have popped up directly in front of her, but where was the fun in that? Not when he had been aching for a good chase for Hell knew how long. She was faster than he had expected. Even as he darted forth, she was already just about gone from sight. Only the gold of her locks remained where she had just been, and already the mane of hair was pulling out of sight behind the door.

"Hey, HEY, HEY!" Chucky's voice called too late, the doll throwing himself down from his place at the island to begin pursuit. Djinn quickly set his coffee mug aside and vanished into thin air. Jason and Michael could only look at each other. Jason was the one to stand, his one good eye gazing down at his companion beside him as if to ask if he were intending to join. Michael answered with a cross of his arms and the turn of his head to look elsewhere. Apparently he wasn't interested. He knew there was no point in watching.

She wouldn't make it far.