Strolling down the dirty deserted street, I realized that my job was almost over. At long last, this world would know peace again. The human race had not always been a blight upon perfection. There was a time where they followed the ways of nature and protected it, as was their purpose as a species. But somewhere along the way, they lost site of that purpose and began making vile creations and feasting upon those they were sworn to guard.

Don't get me wrong, it's nothing if not natural for many species, humans included, to hunt, kill, and eat. What I am referring to is when they decided it was justifiable to kill more than is necessary for nourishment. Not to mention that the race started hunting for sport. Now THAT is a despicable thing.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Freddy, you have killed countless people!"

This is true. But you see, I'm fixing the problem. I'm erasing the slate, so to speak. And who else better to do so than someone who enjoys the job? The experts among you will concur that it is inhumane or cruel or Hell! even evil to enjoy destroying things; the worst of which would be destroying life. Even said experts will say that it is unnatural to enjoy killing, but not unnatural to kill for protection, food...and the consensus on killing for justice? Well that has been an iffy subject for many years now, hasn't it?

I, for one, know it to be acceptable and have sworn myself to using my 'mal desire' to exact such justice. Now where were we?

I looked down at my feet just in time to see a rat scurry across my toes. I smiled at the small creature, thinking back to when I was just a child. I had killed my fair share of animals during those troubled years. It was fun, yes. It helped me to shift certain feelings from those 'caring' for me as well as the other children around me. It wasn't until I was a teenager that I turned my attention from harming animals toward self-mutilation.

It took no time for me to grow a near immunity to pain and instead relish in the exhilerating feeling. I was by myself a lot. Especially as I dodged association and confrontation with my adoptive father who was a slimy piece of scum and a drunk whose only delight came from beating me.

It was in the midst of those years that I came to the conclusion that I should have never redirected my anger away from humans even human children who could be just as evil or even more evil than their adult counterparts. Those animals? They had never done anything to hurt or wrong me. The same could not be said of most humans I ever had acquainted with.

But in the end, it all worked out. As an adult, I was able to better hide killings and had a greater understanding of the world and even the universe. And even though I was eventually found out and murdered, I don't believe as a dead or dying child, I would have ths sense or the strength to make a deal with the dream demons in order to carry on with my special work.

I stopped for a moment, shushing my thoughts as I gazed into the home where the last child left on Earth lived. Just one more kill... Was that really all it was going to be? There were no lights on in the home as was the same with all the neighboring houses.

From what I could tell, the child and its parents had come to this place in order to try and hide from me. They were the only humans within a few blocks, shrowded in darkness, unaware that part of the deal was that I could sense out where humans were regardless.

I had had many difficulties along this journey. It took me years to perfect a way invade new dreamer's minds without there having to be a link between the new dreamer and the old. There had also been the years following that discovery where Hypnocil had been massed produced and distributed amongst all available human citizens. But with the rush for the aid, the drug never fully evolved from its experimental phase, thus causing a great number in casualties due to complications including severe allergies and also the inneffectiveness of the drug on quite a few users.

Furthermore, many became so fearful that there was a sharp increase in the suicide rate over a short span. There were those also so fearful of sleep that they would overdose on hypnocil and inadvertently never wake up. Hypnocil had never been planned for use in thos under the age of fourteen so of course when worried parents fed it to their young children, many keeled over for the drug being too strong for their little bodies.

It was disappointing, to say the least, that so many children had died in such situations therefore taking kills away from me... Although I did quite enjoy the macabre scenarios where a mother or father would kill their children and then themselves in order reduce the suffering of the family.

I have always been aware of the fact that people feel it is a greater evil to harm children than to do the same to adults. Try as I might to wrap my hand around the idea, I never quite could. I suppose part of me had always held onto the experiences I had as child myself and remembered how evil and cruel children could easily be and often were. Deceptive little things, children are, as well. They would act kind and innocent around a figure of authority but the moment their back was turn, would turn into malicious vultures.

Or perhaps it was because I was jealous to see happy children when I, as a child, had always been unwanted, lonely, and depressed? Hm. It could be a touch of that. By destroying happy children, I seemed able to harness a bit of my own happiness to make up for a lifetime of dread. I did, however, find it very effective to kill children to accomplish my goals. Killing 'innocent' creatures that most humans actually gave a shit about: ie the children. Doing so caused the other humans to see me as more cruel of a monster. Who else would killl children but someone of the utmost evil? It also gave a huge shock effect not only to make the kids afraid of the 'boogey man,' but by making the adults fearful of breeding or even being intimate. The escalation of all these things caused a pandemic, unable to be caught up to fast enough by science, which may have been the humans only hope in escaping their fate.

But I'm not evil...or maybe I am. Good and evil are too relative and something that some people agree is one thing, others agree is something else. So good, evil, or what have you, my work was neccesary.

Stepping through the closed front door, I looked around. The house appeared to be empty, but I knew it wasn't. Being in the dream realm, the humans there were not aware of my presence. I walked past a den that looked like it had been vacated in the middle of a party. There were booze bottles and red cups everywhere; furniture was messy, ripped, and overturned; and cigarettes littered the floor.

My head whiplashed toward an opening door toward the right rear of me. A large, dark hand reached out of the room beyond before a head also popped into view, anxiously glancing around before deciding it was safe to enter. The man that the hand and head belonged to must have been the father of this last child. After watching him make his way past me and wade through the trash, I drifted into the stairwell from where he had come.

In its dark depths, there was a thin, young woman with dark skin, cradling a toddler in her arms. It was apparent that both had been crying. The child was on the verge of falling asleep, but it was trying to stave off the feeling. I stood there, watching the scene for what had to have been nearly an hour. The child had started screaming fiercefully, no doubt attempting to keep himself from slumber. The father had returned some time ago and settled himself beside the other two, stroking his child's hair until the child had no breath left in him. Hatred welled inside my chest as I watched. There were so many questions running through my mind.

I wondered if the child was truly loved or if the parent's love was conditional as so many were. Was the child aware at all of what was going on? What kind of person would it have turned out to be? Would it cry as I ripped its heart from it or did it feel 'pain' as I felt it? Could I have done things differently? Would that sweet satisfaction of feeling this guilty child's soul leave its body be as lucious as it had always felt? What was this one fearful of? Was I capable of drawing this death out? Would the fulfillment be fleeting like the rest?

As the child gave up the fight, his heavy eyelds dropping closed, I allowed myself to ease into his mind. I always found it interesting how different what children dreamed about actually was. There had been children who dreamt of cartoons or animals. Some dreamt of family. There were even a handful who dreamt about death as well as a staggering amount of those who dreamt of spiritual things. Ghosts, angels, demons, other worlds and universes. It was always quite a trip.

It was my job to create a horror out of their seemingly safe thoughts and I did my job well. This child was now dreaming about dragons except he wasn't dreaming about slaying them or riding upon their backs. No, he WAS the dragon. Flying through the air on a light blue sky, sun shining, and no clouds in the way, he flapped his wings casually as he watched the cows and the farmers below tending to their busy little lives.

Taking hold of the child's vision, I transformed his incoming scenery to that of a dark sky filled with rainclouds and the trembling of thunder. Below the beast was now an endless graveyard full of ghosts flying around and about, scaring the child-dragon as his wings ceased to beat and he found himself falling to the ground below. With a thud, he hit several gravestones below, cracking and breaking them beneath his immense weight.

The shocked dragon regained himself, standing up tall, his ears catching wind of my laughter in the distance. Turning his attention toward my direction, he picked up on my shadowy figure emerging from a dark mausoleum. Upon sighting me, the brave dragon growled, spewing fire towards me.

Running through the flames, I came upon the dragon which stood several feet taller than me. Grinning, I threw out my own claw, the old metal clanking and shifting its form ino the shape of a sword. Around my other arm, grew a large shield.

Here I was again, playing the part of the dark knight bringing true justice. The child's thoughts were no match for the speed of mine. Jumping toward the dragon, I jabbed my blad full force into the beast's heart.

Shrieking, the dragon collapsed, reverting in shape to the small toddler I had met only hours before. The child's head turned as it thudded on the ground, his eyes gazing up at me and emitting one final tear.

As the child's dream world fell away, I was once again faced with the small family, but this time...this time they truly meant their tears...

Shrugging and walking away from them as they cried into the night, their own souls being ravaged by grief, I wondered what should be done now.

I had succeeded in destroying all human children as well as a great many adults whilst simultaneously invoking fear in the remainders so great that they would not be reproducing. Perhaps I would help in finishing off the rest of the humans out there now and one day, should an innocent creature evovle into humanity again, I would be here to guide them in the right direction or aid in their demise. I mean, after all, this cruel justice...

This is god and I am eternal.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:: Please let me know what you think! I have other Freddy Krueger stories if you are interested :) I also write my own original fantasy, horror, and scifi stories!