Title: Fearless
Rating: M for Language, Violence, Grotesquerie, and General Trippiness
Summary: A girl suffers trauma to her temporal lobe. The result: no fear. ~ Squint and turn the screen sideways for romantic subtext. 1000 words per drabble.
Disclaimer & Important Notes: Don't own Freddy; don't own the rhymes. You know the drill.
.
.
.
.
Friction
(Night 93)
He had intended (Freddy told himself) to rake his claws deep across her thigh. True, she barely felt it when he did these things: her lack of fear was powerful. But he'd been going too easy on her. He'd let her think she had some sort of freedom (the only freedom she had was what he gave her, and he'd been far too generous of late). He'd let her think she was safe (the only true safety she had was when she was awake, and he would make sure sooner or later that she understood that).
She'd annoyed him one too many damn times, fussing and nattering on about some other fucking stupid thing, and he'd whirled on his bench with one hand extended, intending to peel the muscle back from her leg where her soft shorts had ridden up (but when he'd snatched his fedora from her the other night, her fingers had been so cool and smooth, like balm on his scorching flesh).
But the glove disappeared at the last minute (of course he hadn't meant it too; something was on the fritz and he'd need to worry more about that later; he clearly hadn't been tearing through enough souls lately) and his hand, bare and bubbled over, burnt-through, skidded over the skin of her thigh.
For a moment, he was bowled over by the feel of it. He thought he was burning again. White exploded behind his eyes. He couldn't imagine what it felt like for her—and luckily, he didn't have to. Her thoughts, which he'd taken to ignoring lately (they never showed him the fear he wanted to see, after all), were a sudden beacon of hot, bright light, searing through him. When she shuddered out a gasp and arched, he recoiled, jerking his hand back from her flesh.
He was used to taking what he wanted, making the most of his time as a sadist and torturer in the dream-world (once he might have been surprised by how many teenagers' fears revolved around sex, sex, sex). Her reaction, on the other hand, was wholly unexpected, and the absolute and complete opposite of anything he'd ever wanted
(of anything he'd ever thought he'd wanted).
Peter Peter pumpkin eater,
Had a wife and couldn't keep her;
He put her in a pumpkin shell,
And there he kept her very well.
.
.
.
.
This drabble is dedicated primarily to coco buzz and secondarily to Mad Bertha, both of whom offered the prompt, "Friction."
It is 369 words long and makes liberal use of parentheses! These little bookends are two of my favorite forms of punctuation, followed closely by the semicolon and the double-dash. Unlike the semicolon and the double-dash, I get rare opportunity to use them, since I generally don't think they belong in stories or reports. They do, however, provide an excellent foundation for lyricism and poetic inserts, which just kind of jumped into this drabble when they wanted to. While "Frigid" was a demanding whore, "Friction" was almost playful to write.
I debated, initially, something a little more graphically sexual for this chapter (well, a lot more graphically sexual), but this version of "Friction" was just scratching at the door like a puppy waiting to be let in (to continue this analogy, consider this parenthetical remarks to be the equivalent of ransom chew-toys and tennis balls that the dog continually brings to me, even though I make it clear I am too busy to play).
For those of you desiring something a little more blatantly smutalicious: hold your horses! I may eventually get around to it. We'll see. :)
Thanks again to coco buzz and Mad Bertha, proving that great minds think alike. :)
As an aside, I was re-watching NOES2 last night, and there's that bit at the beginning where Freddy says, "You have the body...and I have the brains!" and then he peels off his scalp to reveal the pulsing, gelatinous mass beneath. And I had a total Ash-Kindwall-Moment, and I just thought very matter-of-factly, "You have no skull." Anyway, I thought it was amusing in retrospect.
Oh, also: Jesse screams like a fuckin' girl. I try to make allowances for screaming in horror movies, even when I think the person HAS to realize that the tenth scream is clearly not helpful and probably just a waste of very-needed breath, but there was just no way I could justify his...squealiness. Good God, man.