And anyone Freddy hates, Freddy destroys as well.
Duncan's stepfather sidepunched at a boiler, shouting out in pain from the punch itself and the white hot steam now billowing out the dented portion of the metal. It spread throuhgout the corridor, disguising Freddy in a thick fog.
Perfect.
Rubbing his hand soothingly the man growled in utmost rage. "That little bitch is a dead bastard," he snarled as Freddy quickly and quietly lowered himself a foot behind him.
A devilish smirk only a demon could wear worked upon his burnt face. "Who ya callin' a bitchy bastard?" he said, causing Duncan's stepfather to spin around, his loathsome eyes narrowed and a scowl on his still drunken face. The fog dispersed.
"That little shit that you were SUPPOSED to kill!" he screamed, spit flying from his mouth. The dream demon grimaced, carefully wiping the saliva away with his forfingered blade. He glared murderously, blue eyes cold with chilling hatred and unimaginable fury. He was too drunk to notice.
"You mean Duncan?" he surmised. The man nodded, causing Freddy to scoff and smirk in bitter amusement. He pounced, his declawed hand clutching his neck in a death grip, wanting to strangle him. He wanted to, and could've, but also wanted to torture him merclessly.
Lifting him off the ground and pinning him to the same boiler Duncan's stepfather had punched earlier with insane strength Freddy began taunting him. "You honestly think I'm so sick as to hurt an innocent kid like Duncan?" he questioned sharply, his grip tightening.
The man tried to say something while trying to pull off Freddy's hand. No luck on both accounts. Too much oxygen loss. Freddy continued. "Why would you- why would ANYBODY- think that? HAH?" He shouted the last part, and the man flinched.
"For me, a dream demon that's feared by hundreds, to hurt a weak, powerless boy like him? Who already gets tortured, and abused by his so- called PARENT?" He yelled the last part of that as well.
An awful, scream- worthy twisted smirk shone on his burnt face, eyes flashing with malice and revenge. "And they say I'M evil! Ha! They don't know the MEANING of evil!" he shrieked in rage, grip tightening. The man tried coughing. No dice.
"You," Freddy hissed. "Are a sick. Twisted. Disgusting. Lowlife. Bastard." He then punctured Duncan's stepfather's chest, feeling his delightful warm blood trickle down his knives, pouring down his shirt and staining it. Freddy thrust further, ribs breaking under his strength. The man tried screming, still suffocating, blood choking out his mouth. Nothing.
The dream demon quickly pulled his hand out of the man's chest, a pumping, beating, and bleeding red heart pulsating in his palm. He dropped it, the heart bouncing on the metal grated hallway floor. He swiped at the man's face, claws meeting with skin and scratching to the bone.
He then dove his hand back into the man's intestines, pressing farther and coming upon his spine. He curled his bladed fingers around the bone, ripping it out through his stomach, nervous system and all. He, too, threw that to the floor.
Duncan's stepfather was beyond agony, beyond pain. This thrilled Freddy, allowing him to toss the man to the floor like a ragdoll, metal clanking in the collision. His blood oozed through the holes in the floor.
Freddy grabbed a pipe, pulled it out of its socket (water bearing from the sudden wake of air), raised it above his head, and smashed it down on the man's head. His skull cracked, busted, and fairly exploded, brain bits and bone chunks caking the corridor.
With that Freddy seemed satisfied, and wiped the the man's intestine's off his claws on his sweater. They vanished immediatly. "Welcome to primetime, bitch," he spat, tossing the pipe aside. Coincedently, it landed on his heart, making that blow up in tissue and blood.
"Mr. Freddy sir?" a small voice said from behind the demon. He turned his head, his cold eyes softening at the sight of Duncan.