A/N: Some of you may have noticed that I changed this story's summary. The original one was really just a place holder until I could think up a better one. And I'd like to thank my one reviewer so far, Darkness Takes Over, for all her encouragement! She has some great stories, so check her out if you get a chance.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own A Nightmare on Elm Street or any of its characters.
WARNING: CERTAIN CHAPTERS OF THE FOLLOWING STORY WILL CONTAIN GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, AND ADULT LANGUAGE. TO AVOID SPOILERS, THERE WILL NOT BE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS FOR EACH CHAPTER.
Chapter Three: Mama
Loretta wet the sticky edge of the envelope and sealed it, tossing it into the stack. She wasn't going to have a big wedding, just family would be there. Most of her relatives lived in Ohio, so it shouldn't take long for them to get their invitations. She'd be standing at the altar in two weeks if everything went the way she wanted. Planning on such short notice was stressful, but Freddy didn't want to wait. There wasn't much to prepare for the simple ceremony. She had everything she needed. Everything except a dress.
The though made her stomach clench, and she let her forehead fall onto the oak desk. She didn't have the money for a new one, but she didn't want a new one, anyway. The image in her mind that had been clear since she was a little girl, was of her walking down the isle in her mother's wedding gown.
The only problem was that her parents didn't even know she was engaged yet. She hadn't had the guts to tell them the night she came home after Freddy proposed. But there was no way around it; they had to know. Once they realized that her mind was made up, they'd accept it, and everything could be normal again.
With clammy palms, she wrote out their invitation in her neatest penmanship. She licked and smoothed it shut like the others, but didn't put it in the mailing pile. Those were going to the post office first thing tomorrow morning. She tucked the thick, square envelope into her skirt pocket.
She had the late shift at the diner tonight, and it would be so easy to put off facing them until another day, but they were both downstairs in the family room watching television. It had to be now, or she'd psych herself out.
The steps creaked under her as she went down, hand sticking on the banister. At the bottom, she caught the sound of a commercial jingle. The snappy notes rang out, and she knew she should go in before their show came back on. She moved closer to the room, legs rigid with hesitation. A yard or two from the threshold, she heard an episode of The Three Stooges blare from within.
Her first instinct was to walk out the front door. The commercial was over. Her chance had passed.
But she didn't let herself take the easy route. She went on into the room and straight to the sofa, and as expected, they didn't even blink.
"I have some good news." she began, swallowing thick with a forced smile. The tips of her fingers felt tingly and cold. She was overly aware of them, not knowing whether to clasp them together, or hide them under crossed arms, or slip them behind her back. Instead, they hung at her sides like awkward growths.
"Freddy proposed to me, and we're getting married."
The words fell flat, despite her attempt to make them sound joyful. An acute tightness squeezed inside her chest. They weren't looking at her. Hoping to seize their attention, she moved in front of the television.
"I know you don't think he can support me, but he makes decent money, and I have my job at the diner. We'll be okay, I promise." she insisted.
Her father tilted his head a little to see around her, as the studio audience roared with laughter off screen.
"We reserved a date with the church. And dad, you don't have to walk me down the isle if you don't want to." she pleaded, then looked to her mother. "All I need is a dress. Could I use yours? I'd only be borrowing it, you can have it right back."
It didn't matter how long she waited. No answer came. The muscles in her throat began to constrict, cracking her voice. "Please look at me."
But it was like they'd locked themselves in a soundproof glass box. She took the envelope with Mom and Dad scrawled on the front, and left it on the coffee table in case they changed their minds. She thought she saw tears on the rims of her mother's eyes, but it was probably her imagination.
A drizzle of rain misted Loretta's face as she left the house. Tiny droplets clung to her hair. With a defeated slouch, she shoved her hands deep into her jacket pockets, and continued up the sidewalk. Heavy, grey cumulus clouds churned in the sky, threatening to release on everything below.
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The metal joint-hinge squeaked as Freddy bent and straightened one finger. Thin plates were riveted between his knuckles, with a skeleton of steel ringed around the underside, connecting back to the top. His right hand was encased in the makeshift armor that had been affixed to a broken-in work glove. From the tips of each finger, extended four straight, long razors, their ends tapered to a point. He hunched over it, flexing and splaying, getting a feel for the claw's weight.
The light above his work table cast bold shadows, and every movement of his hand was silhouetted beneath it on the rough, dusty surface. The doubles met as he stabbed his index blade into the wood grain.
The bench he sat on scraped backwards on the cement floor. He stood, posture slanted from the dip in his right shoulder, and moved across the room. But there was more in his walk than just a shift in weight; slipping on that glove had infused his body with a new, animalistic confidence. He stalked towards the back wall, lowering his chin with a smirk. Two grey newspaper clippings were hung up, each one cut to include the article and the grainy, black and white photo above the headline. The toothy smile of Ann Foster and nose-wrinkling grin of Madison Conolly, his first two children, greeted him just as they had the night before.
He was sorry they'd never see his masterpiece, but they could be proud of themselves for inspiring it.
Removing his glove, he placed it on a shelf beside some other knives, and flicked down the light switch. He closed the door once outside, squeezing the large padlock shut. It swung from the latch as he started up the stairs to the kitchen.
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It was eleven by the time Loretta clocked out of work. The light, evening drizzle had become a torrential storm, pouring out rain drops that pelted the street like a hail of bullets. Through her jacket to her uniform, she was sopping wet. A pool of water sloshed inside her shoes from all the puddles that were impossible to avoid. Her soaked, ratty hair stuck to her cheeks as she pressed on, face tipped down and eyes squinted. Her street came into view, and again the smallest flicker of hope sparked within her as she crossed a flooding gutter at the curb. Her house loomed a few mailboxes down, and she didn't lift her head until she was on the front lawn. A high pile of wet boxes and twister-sealed black bags by the trash cans diverted her attention.
Lifting open the brown, cardboard flaps of the nearest one, she peered inside. It was stuffed with clothes, and she dug through the contents until she recognized her favorite lavender cardigan. At the bottom was the green spotted piggy bank her grandmother gave her for her eighth birthday. Most of the boxes in the center of the heap weren't closed, and they'd taken on so much water that the cardboard looked like it was melting down into a lumpy mess. She reached forward for one of them, trying to drag it out, but ripping it in the process. More clothing and trinkets spilled out the side. Her hair brush, her wrist watch, a tangled knot of all her necklaces beside her broken jewelry box. The blue Martian figurine she'd saved up for months to buy now had a chip on the side of its head that trailed into a hairline crack across its face and over one of its seven eyes. When she looked into the next box, she wished she hadn't. It was filled to the top with her books, mangled and waterlogged. She picked up the first one and thumbed it open. Paragraphs were blotted out into wide ink splotches that spread over each page, becoming smaller the closer she got to the middle section. Every new raindrop that hit it blurred another sentence, and Loretta clapped it shut. The novels at the bottom were completely submerged in water, their pages disintegrating like wet tissues in her hands.
She put them all back and closed the flaps, for all the good that would do against the downpour. When she surveyed the mound of her belongings again, she saw something that she hadn't before. It was on the other side. She went around to it, already knowing what it was, but afraid to confirm it. Her mother's wedding dress that had been promised to her since she was a child was laid out low to the ground, over a few garbage bags. The once-pure, white gown was now splattered in mud, especially near the hem, which trailed in a dirty puddle. Stains of varying sizes, clustered across the garment, sunk through the delicate layers of lace.
They'd given her the dress, just like she'd asked.
That weekend, she and Freddy were wedded at the local Justice's office. No guests, no flowers, no cake. Just a fountain pen and a signature on the dotted line.
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Loretta placed the white bucket and mop up against the cellar wall. The floors in her new home were shining, and dinner was roasting in the oven. It was only her second trip down here since she'd moved in, so she wasn't at all surprised when she noticed a door that she'd missed the first time. It was off to the side, closed with a large, forbidding padlock. She yanked on it anyway, to test it, but it wouldn't come open.
After going back upstairs to check the ham and green beans, she found Freddy on his comfy chair in the living room. He was sitting behind a new, unfolded copy of The Springwood Gazette. He turned a page over and shook it out stiff.
"Dinner's done?" he guessed, glancing at her over the top of the paper.
"Not yet." she replied.
When he tried to go back to reading, she added, "But I had a question for you."
"Yeah?"
"Why is that door in the basement locked?"
He let the newspaper drop to his lap, looking directly into her eyes. "Don't worry about that. It's my work room; you don't have to go in there."
"What kind of work?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. She didn't know he had a hobby.
"Carpentry, some other stuff." he sounded disinterested.
"Then why is it locked?"
"I said don't worry about it." he got off the chair, clearly annoyed by her barrage of questions. He leered over her to make sure she heard every syllable. "I don't want you getting into my tools, so stay out of there. Understand?"
"Okay, sorry." she muttered, dropping the conversation before he got even more upset. As she returned to the kitchen to lay out the plates and forks for their meal, she wondered if he had meant to intimidate her, or if she had misunderstood what just happened. No, she decided it must have been in her head. He was probably just shy about letting her see his projects. That's all.
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The lunch bell rang, and Loretta funneled out through the door of her algebra class with the other students, and into the crowded corridor. On her way to the cafeteria, she shot a guilty glance downward at her left hand, where there should have been a gold ring. It wasn't that she was ashamed of being married to Freddy; it was the way they'd tied the knot. If her classmates saw the ring, they'd want to know how the ceremony was, and ask why they weren't invited. She would have to tell them that no one was invited, because there was no ceremony. Saying it out loud would be so embarrassing. On school grounds, and only there, she wanted to pretend that she was still one of the kids. When that ring was on, it was like she didn't belong there anymore. But with only the rest of senior year to get through, she'd graduate soon, and none of this would be a problem anymore. She was so close.
When school got out that afternoon, she didn't waste any time getting to the sidewalk to hurry home.
"Hey, Loretta!"
A friendly voice called from behind. Macy, one of the other seniors from her english class, strolled up beside her in a bouncy yellow skirt, and hooked her arm.
"We're going to the movies." she said, smiling back at the two boys following her, "Want to come?"
Loretta shook her head. "I can't today. I have to get home."
"That's too bad." Macy sighed, then cocked her head as a thought hit her. "Isn't your house the other way?"
Loretta groaned inwardly. She's have to kick herself later for forgetting that no one knew she'd moved. "It is, but I have to stop by the drugstore first."
"Then we're all going in the same direction, right? We'll walk with you."
Macy was a charming girl, the sort who wore red lipstick and got along with almost anyone, and Loretta found it difficult to turn her down.
"Sure." she conceded.
The shortest route would take them right down Elm Street. All she'd have to do is go a little ways past her new house, then turn around and come back when they went into the theater. It should only take an extra fifteen minutes, and she might still make it home before Freddy returns from work.
As they strolled down the side of the road together, Loretta realized she was glad they joined her. She didn't have much time for friends lately, with everything that went on, and it was refreshing. She missed just being with other kids and having fun. Ed, one of Macy's boyfriends, had them all laughing so hard that Loretta didn't even notice when they were going by the front of her home. She didn't see the red truck parked in the driveway. Or her husband standing at the window.
By the time she returned alone, all the curtains were drawn. Considering that it was still the afternoon, the cave-like darkness inside surprised her. Maybe Freddy had a headache and wanted a nap. She pulled the door shut and kicked off her shoes into the corner, not bothering to undo the laces. Dinner wouldn't need to be started for another hour, and a warm mug of chamomile tea was just what she needed.
Discarding her jacket over the back of the lounge chair, she turned towards the kitchen archway right as Freddy came through. It only took a few seconds for Loretta to recognize the particular kind of quiet tension that she hadn't felt since she lived with her parents.
He stared her down, taking something out of his trouser pocket. His thumb and index finger held up her wedding ring.
"I found this in your night table." he said, holding her with his eyes. "Why aren't you wearing it?"
"I must have forgotten." she lied, "I was so tired this morning, I-"
"Bullshit."
She flinched.
"You left it home so you could go messing around with those guys." he shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at the street outside. "Why else would you pretend to be single?"
"That's ridiculous, I wasn't-" she tried to protest, but he yelled over her again.
"Shut the fuck up!"
She'd never seen him snarl like that before, never seen his face make such a violent contortion.
"Where the hell do you get off thinking you can sneak around behind my back?" he roared, fists clenched. "And then you try to lie to me about it."
"I didn't lie about going for a walk with my friends," she shook her head, "I wasn't hiding it."
"You don't need to go anywhere with them, or go to school at all." he shot back.
"What are you talking about, Fred? I'm almost done; I have to get my diploma."
"Why? So you can keep waitressing? You don't fucking need it." he growled, advancing as she backed into the chair. She didn't like the way he towered over her, like he did last time.
"It's something I want to accomplish. For myself." she said after she drew herself up.
He leaned into her face, voice thick with venom. "You only want it so you can act like you're better than me. That's pathetic."
She snapped, and finally shouted back. "I've never thought that for a second, and I've never cheated on you. You're the one hiding things! You'll go snooping through my drawers, but I can't even look inside that stupid room of yours."
It wasn't until the pressure began to throb below her eye, and a copper taste filled the corner of her mouth, that she even registered the hard slap.
"You're gonna have to learn that when I say not to do something, that's final. And you don't bring it up again." he said, gripping the side of her neck. Still not satisfied, he wound his arm back a second time, and smacked his palm across her cheek. Her head snapped off to the side on impact.
"If you let anyone see you without this on again," he warned, taking her wrist to fit the ring back on her, "I'll stitch it onto your finger."
She was paralyzed, staring at the wall. When he grabbed her chin, the look of fear she gave him was tantalizing.
He'd been wrong. Maybe he could turn her back into a little girl.
He lowered his mouth onto her bruised lips, parting them with a slant of his head. Despite the sting from the force he used, she didn't move or make a sound.
"What's for dinner?" he asked as he went around the back of the lounge chair to take a seat. "I'm starving."
Still too stunned to know what else to do, she remained where she was and answered, "Rosemary chicken and potatoes."
"Sounds delicious."
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Even now, as she hunched over on a toilet lid in the girl's bathroom at school, replaying the argument in her mind, she couldn't figure out what had caused such an escalation. Was it her? It was understandable for Freddy to be upset after catching her without the ring. If she had worn it like she was supposed to, the whole thing could have been avoided.
And yet, everything had gone on afterwards as if nothing happened. They ate dinner, Freddy made offhand complaints about his job, and by the time they'd gotten into bed, Loretta had begun doubting the seriousness of the issue.
She'd woken up earlier that usual this morning to dab makeup on her discolored cheek, but when she got to school, she came straight here and locked herself in the third stall. She'd missed her first two classes, not wanting to be here, but not wanting to go out there, either. All she wanted right now was to wrap her arms around her mother. That was the only thing that could comfort her. She was confused and scared, and she didn't know what to do. But mom would know; she'd make everything okay again. It didn't matter what Loretta had to do to win her back. She would fall to her knees and beg, if that's what it took. She needed her mom more than anything.
Leaving the toilets behind, she slipped out of the restroom and hurried past a suspicious hall monitor. She sprinted out the doors and onto the street, running all the way to her parent's house.
But the only thing waiting for her when she arrived, out of breath, was a vacant building with a red and white "For Sale" sign jutting out of the front lawn. With no energy left to cry, she rested on the doorstep and folded herself up tight, laying her head on her knees. Maybe this was a big joke and they were about to jump out from somewhere, laughing and coming to hug her. To tell her what a good sport she's been, and promise that they'll never prank her like this ever again.
But she was getting tired of hoping for things like that. It was making her sick. They were gone, and Freddy was her family now.
"Loretta?"
She looked up to see the heavy-set next door neighbor, Mrs. Burnham, crossing onto the grass. She'd known the woman for years; she used to let the kids on their street play with her garden hose on the hot summer afternoons, and bring out a tray of pink lemonade for them afterwards. Neither one said anything until she sat beside Loretta, and even then, there was a stretch of thoughtful silence.
"I saw what they did with all of your things." the older woman said, bushing her dirt covered hands together. "Don't worry, I won't pry into your personal business, dear. They didn't tell me where they were moving, but your mother left me their new phone number, in case I wanted to chat."
With a sympathetic smile, Mrs. Burnham held out a strip of yellow paper with the digits written in pencil, and went back to her property. Loretta wanted to tear it up right then, but stuffed it in her pocket instead.
She didn't move from that step until the sun was high at three o'clock.
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From the upstairs bathroom, Loretta heard the jingling of Freddy's keys as he opened the front door, and dropped his coat on the rack. She shut off the faucet and patted her hands dry on her beige towel that hung by the tub.
The sound of his boots on the stairs made her nervous, although there was nothing to be nervous about. She felt the urge to either lock the door or run out and greet him, but did neither. He stood at the threshold seconds later, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. One arm was held behind his back, and his brown hat was tipped low over his forehead.
"Hello, sweetheart." he said, revealing a colorful packet of Charms Lollipops.
She grinned and took it from him. These were her favorite candy, but she hadn't tasted them in months. She felt so silly now for doubting him. Every married couple had arguments; it was normal.
"Thanks." she said as she pecked him on the lips, then hugged his waist. It felt like she was falling backwards when he scooped her off the ground.
"What are you doing, Fred?" she laughed, holding onto his flannel shirt.
"I just remembered that I was supposed to carry you inside after we got married." he teased with a wink, and started towards their bedroom. He heaved an exaggerated sigh, "I guess we're going to have to redo our whole wedding night. Oh, well."
Tossing the candies on her dresser top, he footed the door closed behind them.
The next few weeks passed without incident, and Loretta started to think that it would always be this way.
And Loretta was wrong.
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Early winter settled over Springwood, blanketing the town in drifts of snow. The sun stayed low in the pale sky everyday, and set before its warmth could melt the icicles clinging to rooftop gutters around the neighborhood. Orange and pink evening light from behind the bare sycamore trees flooded through the windows of 1428 Elm.
With a long, wooden broom in her hand, Loretta padded down the hallway, on her way downstairs to put a pot of water to boil for dinner. As she took hold of the railing, a strange sound coming from the master bedroom stopped her. The dark wooden door was ajar, and she went to stand behind it. She leaned forward on her toes and peered through, letting the broom rest on the wall.
Freddy was moving about, transferring small piles of folded clothes from on top of their bed to their bureau drawers. She smiled, knowing how much he disliked laundry. He was doing it to surprise her later. And probably to persuade her of better uses for their new mattress.
As she was about to turn away and get back to work, Freddy pulled a long piece of gleaming metal from the back of his middle drawer. Her brows knit together. What was that doing in there? Lifting his shirt up over his head, he tossed it to the floor. She bit back a gasp when he put the strait-razor to his chest and pulled it across, leaving a thin crease in his skin that almost immediately overflowed with blood. With a grotesque mixture of pain and alleviation, he canted his head back. She just stood there, staring, too horrified to breath. And he did it again. And again. Her head began to shake as she mutely begged him to stop. When he did, her relief was short lived.
"Come in here." he said, without looking at her. Running away was her first instinct, but she reminded herself that he was her husband. What's there to be afraid of? From what she could see of the side of his face, he didn't look angry. He didn't even look annoyed. She knew he hated to repeat himself, so she pushed the door open and waked over the matted, old carpet. Stopping just inside the room, she waited with a tense, twisting gut. She felt like a child about to be scolded, though she didn't know what for.
"Why are you hurting yourself?" she asked.
He raised his hand and motioned her closer. There was a moment of hesitation, but she went. Her eyes flickered between Freddy and the stained blade in his grip.
"Give me your arm."
She cringed back, confused, but he remained calm.
"You want to know why I'm doing this. I'll show you." Something in that low voice he used always convinced her that everything was fine, and she was simply overreacting. He'd used it before. "It's okay, Loretta."
Forcing a swallow down her dry throat, she shook her head. "No."
He flashed the faintest bit of disappointment, maybe anger.
"You don't trust me?" he asked as he snatched her forearm and turned it over, gripping it with white knuckles. The more she tried to pull against him, the harder he squeezed. He watched her face closely as he touched the razor's edge to her skin, and left it there while she struggled. It was a quiet struggle, as if she thought that somehow, by not making a big deal of it, she could get away and pretend that she never saw anything. But he kept it on her arm, holding it still, until she eventually gave in. After a few pointless tugs, she stopped resisting.
That must have been what he was waiting for, because he seemed pleased. Her erratic breaths hitched as he sliced the blade into her flesh. Flinching from the sting of it, she bit her lip to suppress a whimper.
"See? It's not so bad." he crooned, "Want to try again?"
At the thought of doing that a second time, she found her voice. "No. Don't, Fred."
"Then you don't understand, yet."
Keeping her in a bruising grip, he yanked her closer. She was about to say something, when she felt the next cut, right above the last. She cried out and clasped her other hand onto his shoulder, gritting her teeth. As her nails dug into him, he exhaled and rested his head against the side of her neck.
After a while, he let her go and locked himself in the bathroom. The squeaking knobs and the hush of the shower were muffled behind the door. Loretta walked down the stair case and into the kitchen, staring blankly ahead as she prepared the spaghetti. A few tears dripped into the simmering water.
A/N: As always, the new chapter will be posted next Thursday, May 28.
When I first conceived of this story, I started writing little scenes, in no particular order, of interactions between Loretta and Freddy. Just for brainstorming fun. Then I began plotting the actual chapters. This last scene where Freddy cuts Loretta was actually the very first thing I ever wrote for this fic. I wrote it over four months ago, and I'm finally using it now! Hurray!
I'd love to get some feedback for this story, so feel free to leave a review. Let me know what you think! :)
FURTHER DISCLAIMERS: I DON'T OWN "THE THREE STOOGES", OR CHARMS LOLLIPOPS.