Ch. 9
As I climbed into bed, the first waves and thoughts of my home filled my mind.
What about my parents?...I miss them. What about Sassy, my horse, and Hunter, my dog?...No more homework for me!...I could go for another one of Michael's cheese sandwiches right now… What about the zits on my face?...Do the three of them really care about appearances?...I guess not…Mike trying to come into the bathroom when I was taking a shower was embarrassing…What did they all think of me because of that, if Michael told them about our "meeting"?...Freddy dancing and singing in the kitchen when he was drunk was funny, though a little unnerving somehow now that I think about it…Where was Freddy?...I love Jason…Freddy's mean….Michael is a little pushy, in more ways than one…
After thoughts like that, and after a crying fit because I missed home (thankfully no one came to check up on me during that time), I snuggled up to my Pound Puppy toy and fell asleep.
That was when my nightmare started.
There was an alleyway, dark and scented of oil. I realized I was in an old warehouse of some type, and smoke obscured my vision so much so that I couldn't see but for a few feet in front of me. I looked down, noting my pajamas and socks. My breath came out in smoke-like huffs.
I got up, ran around a bit, threw a piece of metal against a pipe, but still nobody came or showed up. I shouted random things, but still nothing happened. Then I remembered something.
He gets into your unconscious, and uses what you like the most, and what you fear the most, in order to freak you out and then kill you, I thought.
Then something, or someone, coughed.
I jerked my head up, my eyes growing larger, my mouth instinctively snarling at my unseen adversary.
He walked out of the smoke and the shadows, and then my eyes had a strange reddish tint around the edges of my view.
Freddy Krueger.
"Hey, Julia.", he said conversationally.
I winced at his voice, having eyes only for the glove on his hand, the blades flashing in what little light I could see by.
"You set your little friends on me today."
I nodded a little, but then said, "No, I didn't."
He cocked his head, curious and a little confused. Then he laughed, insanely, happily.
"Explain, but hurry. I don't have all night, you see. Other kids are having their own nightmares, and I don't want to be late."
He crouched, half smiling, half growling, still cackling.
"No, you don't.", I whispered.
He was watching my every movement, I just now realized, waiting for me to continue.
"They wanted to protect me, or at least Jason did. He wrote that I reminded him of his mother.", I explained.
His head straightened, and said, "Silly little Jason. One whiff of remembrance about his mother, and he'll protect you until you grow old and die. Of course, I figure he held off Michael from killing you, first?"
I nodded, the image of Michael with his knife raised in the living room filling my mind.
"And they held me off from my fun, too, this morning. Then I even asked them, quite contrary to my…normal behavior, if they would mind my killing you, and they dare attack me! They may be physically stronger than me in the real world, but in the dream world, I rule over all!"
What he said was true. Even though I was the one dreaming, asleep, I had no control over what happened. As unafraid of him as I was, I was afraid of that glove, and that was how I couldn't stop him: the glove and him were one.
I winced again, backing up from him now.
"Of course…Michael wanted to catch a peek, huh?", Freddy said, smiling, causing me to stop backing up.
"Yeah, what's it to you?"
"Nothing, just stating the facts. Like: You're gonna die soon."
"No duh, huh?"
He bristled.
His head cocked again, and he snarled, raising his razor-bladed glove.
"Enough with the formalities, kid. Let's see if you fight."
He charged.