And here it is, folks. The last chapter. I can't believe I actually pulled through and finished! I never thought I would be writing more than just that first chapter, but I'm glad that I continued – I met a few new awesome friends (you guys know who you are! ;] ). Enjoy the last installment of my story and do comment!

Chapter 19: Showdown

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

Opening my eyes again, my eyes tried in vain to adjust to the eerie and total blackness.

I fell asleep. All it took was setting my head down on the pillow. Was my willpower that weak?

Trying to move my limbs, I realized that I was tied down to a table of some sort. Naked. Darting my eyes around, I searched desperately for any sign of Freddy, my moan at my misfortune muffled by duck tape.

"Ahh, you're awake." I've got to focus. I can do this. I've no choice but to lie down patiently and try to figure out where his voice is coming from. In the meantime…

Aw, damn! I cringed at the sudden flood of surgical white light illuminating a plastic covered room. Bastard.

"You always were such a creep, weren't you Christine? Lusting after the bad guy." Not now, Freddy. Don't.

"I mean…seriously? A few serial killers, myself included of course, disfigured creeps…I don't know why you ever wondered why you couldn't get a date!" I could just hear that bastard's glee. He finally came into view, dressed in Dexter Morgan's signature garb during his kills – a shiny black apron covering a green jumpsuit with black bloots, coupled with a butcher's knife.

As much as I loved Dexter, I did not like where this was going.

Focus, Christine.

Freddy was closing the gap between us slowly, clearly reveling in the fear radiating off of me.

"I've waited a long time for this, Christine." Freddy smiled down at me, and I was looking to the countenance of handsome Michael Hall. My heart lurched as his smile turned into a sinister smirk. How to define that lurch was beyond me.

Without any preamble, Freddy ripped the duct tape off my lips, evoking a hoarse cry at the stinging sensation.

"Look at them." My eyes followed where he was pointing to – a line of wooden coffins with pictures on them – Mike, Alyssa, Officer Miller. A few other kids from my school. Jack.

I couldn't hold it in. Tears started running down my face, blurring my vision. Look at how many have suffered, all because of me. All because of my damn unquenchable thirst for knowledge.

"It was you. You killed them." I couldn't deny it. Jack died because of me. I killed him myself. He died because I shot him. The rest – indirectly my fault, but I had some influence.

"No," I managed to finally say. "I didn't kill them. You did, you bastard!" I clenched my jaw, the anger finally throbbing in my veins fueling a little rebellion.

Freddy's maniacal laugh was unnerving, but there wasn't much I could do from my position – I was tied to the table by some sort of plastic wrapping.

"Christine, Christine…you've still got a long way to go. You're one lucky bitch! I don't intend on killing you yet. I need you to get to the real world, where I can get to the rest of my children." Freddy climbed onto the table, taking a hold of my bare arms. He was surprised to find that I had managed to cut away the plastic around my hands with a knife during the time that he was playing theatrics. I was putting what I learned from my time in the dream world to use.

I dug my nails deeply into Freddy's muscles with a feral growl. A mixture of surprise and mirth was his response to it. Feeling myself grow angrier, I suddenly was unsettled as I was pulled into a type of vortex and I realized that he was pulling us back into the real world.

Now we're on my turf. Not to mention, Dad's right outside my door!

Just as soon as my surroundings stopped spinning, Freddy started shaking my body with a scowl. "You thought your claws would do anything to me, little pussy cat?" I realized that he was wearing his usual attire as all I saw was a blur of red and green stripes as his shirt came in and out of my view. I also felt his blades dig into my back, drawing blood with each shake.

When Freddy finally stopped shaking me, I tried to come to my senses and formulate some sort of thought. When I looked to my door, I could clearly see Dad's sleeping form because it was slightly open. Fuck.

"No one can save you now, Christine. Looks like you served your purpose since we're both here. That only means one thing…" With the look of a child on Christmas morning, Freddy Krueger plunged his steel knives into my stomach. Nothing could have ever prepared me for what excruciating pain blossomed at that moment and the scream that was ripped from my core and passed through my lips was unrecognizable.

My body snapped into fetal position, curling me up into a screaming mass. Freddy was enjoying the show, kneeling in such a way that he was hovering over me, closely observing my reaction.

When at long last I finally stopped screaming, I gathered up all the strength within me to hoarsely start talking. "You took everything, everything, away from me. My best friends. My chance at redemption. My life." I stopped momentarily, wheezing. "But if I'm going to hell, I'm not going there alone – you're coming with me." Turning with a resolute look into Freddy's monstrous face, I finally pulled the replica of Freddy's glove from underneath my bed, plunging it deep into his chest with a grimace.

Freddy coughed up a huge bubble of blood onto my neck, the murder and surprise glistening in his eyes lessening with each passing moment.

With a quirk of his lips, he breathed, "Bitch." He continued heavily sinking onto the blades on my hand as he steadily lost his strength, squeezing my frail frame along with it. Considering he still had the blades inside him, I used the last ounce of strength I had within me to pull them towards me, making the holes in his abdomen even larger. I wasn't going to let this bastard live. I needed to see him die before I breathed my last.

The evil life within Freddy Krueger's blue eyes finally dimmed completely. His body started disappearing from my sight. With a relieved sigh, I focused on counting my rattling breaths. How many left until I join him in hell? Perhaps I should try a last minute attempt at asking God's forgiveness.

I heard someone moving outside my door and realized that now that Freddy was dead and gone, Dad would wake up. Oh Dad, you can't see me like this…

How the hell did I just nod off like that? I just drank some coffee! Fuck!

Rushing up to Christine's door, my heart plummeted to the floor when I saw a menacing looking glove with knives on her right hand, covered in blood. Running into the room, I was horrifyingly stunned to find Christine's entire bed a bloody mess. I fought the bile that was ready to spill out of me.

I tore at the few pieces of gray hair I had with a mangled cry. I couldn't fucking stay awake, and now my only daughter is dead!

Looking into Christine's bloodied face, I was astonished to find that she was still alive. She slowly blinked at me, managing a small smile. I fought very hard to keep the tears from clouding my vision; I couldn't afford it now. These are the last glimpses I'll ever have of her. I hesitantly pushed a few strands of hair out of her face, fearing she might crumble underneath my touch.

Her small gravelly whisper suddenly broke the silence. "I killed him, Daddy. Freddy's dead." I was rendered speechless and was uncertain as to how I was to respond. With a satisfied and peaceful smile, Christine breathed, "I love –" before her eyes became empty orbs staring eerily into mine.

I sunk to my knees with a sob that shook my whole body. I didn't even notice that my wife entered the room until she clung desperately to my body with a howl reminiscent of my own.

Daddy loves you too, Christine.