House of Horrors: Director's Cut

by LittleLiteratureRSJ

A portal drops a select few of our beloved horror icons into the house of our protagonist, Jennifer Caddie. When she hears strange noises in the night, she realizes fairly quickly she is no longer alone. Confused and afraid, she will have to adjust to her new living situation as she navigates how to live with monsters. Turns out: Living with slashers makes for a killer headache.

44. Not Finished with You Yet

Actually, that's not what happened.

Here's what actually happened:

And at long last he stood before me. I cowered under the weight of his shadow. I imagined I had to look like the most pitiful fucking thing that he had ever seen. My legs quivered with the effort to stand, my hip trailing blood. Now no longer needing his voice to carry, his tone lowered to taunt; "End of the line." His shoulders elevated and fell with a satisfactory breath. He took a moment to look at me, really look at the quivering, breathless prey that I had become. With a smirk that bared a few teeth, Freddy sighed. "Well.." His right arm started to ascend to deliver a final blow.

"It was fun while it laste-AURGH!"

To my utter disbelief, a red globe struck him from above.

It bounced off his head and landed on the floor to roll a little ways off. Having served its only purpose of delivering a bump to the killer's noggin, it ceased to roll. Freddy doubled over to grasp his hurt head and I peered incredulously to look over at the item that had saved me. In my rushed inspection, I concluded that it was a ball; A child's red kickball to be precise. What it was doing raining down from the fucking sky, I had no clue, but I didn't linger long enough to find out.

I could thank God for it later.

Evidently this was my chance and I intended to take it. I pushed forth from the wall and hurriedly stepped around him. Ducking into the clouds of steam, I extended one hand to guide me along so I wouldn't fall or faceplant into one of the side walls. The divine interference had given me a short second wind and I intended to soar far, far away from the evil fuck and his knife fetish. Quickly I left the steam-filled hallway behind, limping myself away as fast as I could.

Hearing her steps grow more distant, Freddy pulled himself back upright. His head tipped up to see who had thrown the ball at him, and to his annoyance, spied the white skirts of one of the children rushing away. Those little shits. The thought snarled across his mind. After this nightmare was said and done, he was going to relish getting his hands on them. Messing with his work meant punishment and already a few ideas cropped up in his mind. Their help to his dreamers had been lectured and punished before, although...Their schemes to help had never been this irritating. They'd get what was coming to them, but regardless Jennifer getting away hit on a real special nerve.

Speaking of Jennifer getting away..

Freddy faced the way back. A thick, hazy shroud of steam flooded the corridor. It coiled and floated about the long, claustrophobic space, blurring and obstructing the way back in faded fog. He removed the fedora from his head and fanned the space in front of him with it. Even with the minor fanning of his hat, his vision couldn't get through. The blockage of steam he had created now worked against him. No matter. He was the one in charge here. He held all the power. The metaphorical ball, whether it was knocking him over the head or not, remained in his court.

He returned the hat to its rightful place and took in a great big breath, in and in with his dream-bending abilities, and blew it back out through his lips in a single, forceful exhale. In one clear gust, the fog swept away and dispersed altogether to part the white sea. The kickball went flying with it, careening way ahead into the rest of the factory, clearing the path.

Ahead lay empty with no sign of her. "Hmph." So she had gotten away, but she wouldn't last long. She was already on her last legs as it was. That second wind would die out here soon, and when it did, there wasn't going to be a way to get out of it. He'd catch her. Pin her down if he had to.

He would make sure of it.

For now, all he had to do was track her heartbeat and her thoughts. Both were bound to lead him straight to her. He gave it a listen. From the sounds of it, she had already gotten a healthy head start. The chase wasn't over yet. A sick thrill simmered inside him at the thought despite his previous grumpiness. He still had so much energy to burn. She still had blood to spill. The night wasn't over.

Rolling his shoulders and inhaling, he took a step forward when he heard it.

A little splat underneath his boot.

He sent a swift glance down and carefully sent his foot back a step to see what he had stepped in. What was this? His grin widened and he huffed out a pleased laugh. Ohh, it couldn't get better than this..

A dotted blood trail led away before him and he followed it with his gaze, becoming more and more pleased to see it continue down the hall and around the corner, decorating the floor in broken patterns. Well now, this certainly gave him a much more fun way to track her down, he noted. The visual served to put him in a mood that graduated to ecstatic. That's when he decided he didn't need the help of her heartbeat. This would do just fine. Casting away the pulsing of her heart, Freddy embarked on a venture down the hall, following the liquefied breadcrumbs that she had unknowingly left behind. His left hand slipped into his trouser pocket while the right swung in his stride. With his gaze intent on the floor by his feet, he whistled the whole way.

Whereas Jennifer? Jennifer was wheezing.

Well! It finally happened.

My legs had given out.

The sentiment was set in stone when I collapsed to the floor on my knees. I braced both hands to prevent myself from falling completely onto my stomach. Sweat-riddled hair falling around me, my mind swam with fatigue and lightheadedness. I can't…I can't fucking do this anymore. That's it. I'm done. No more running. Hell, I couldn't even run if I had wanted to. As far as my legs were concerned, they had decided on an early retirement and retirement started now. I threw my hair back with a breathless, stubborn toss of my head. Eugh. God, it felt gross. Greasy and smooth. It was positively drenched in perspiration, just like the rest of me. Easing myself back from all fours to sit on my folded legs, I voted for something else to put my attention on

..Like..My other bleeding arm..

Shit. I had somehow forgotten all about that.

The burn of vomit leapt to the back of my throat and I swallowed it with a grimace. Seeing this one was far worse than the first. My arm was a fucking mess and it hurt like hell. Looking at it alone made me queasy. Great. I had yet another wound to patch up. My eyes went to the stomach of my ripped tank. Jesus, my stomach was glowing with sweat. The observation was discarded to eye my bottoms. The capris would provide more material to work with, but it was way easier to tear a shirt than to tear pants.

Here we go again I guess. Dr. Caddie reporting for duty. I dug my nails in and knotted my fist around the most tattered segment of my tank. I inhaled deeply, bared my teeth, and pulled. Rrriip! Rrriiiiiip! More and more I yanked down and away to settle for a much more generous bandage than the previous one. Rrrrrriiiiiiiipp! A lengthy section of the tank top tore away, a long skinny shred of it twisting around my side near my lower back before coming apart from the rest. Oh yeah. Goodbye tank top and hellooo crop top.

I juggled the considerable amount of material over my fingers and using my thighs as an operating table, wrapped the fabric around my slashed arm. Once enough of it was coiled around, I took to the task of tying it tight with my teeth just as I had before. I pulled the knot as tightly as I could and half hissed-half growled through the immediate surge of pain. A foul whiff of iron and something similar to rust hit my nose. Tears flitted down my cheeks and like before the color of the shirt material made the cuts appear more awful than they were. But it was done. Taken care of. For now.

I hastily blinked and wiped away the tears. Carefully kneeling onto my hip-

A flare of stinging sensation went through me with the motion, causing me to hiss and instinctively shift onto my opposite side. Dumbass me would of course try to rest on her wounded side.

But to be fair, what part of me wasn't fucking wounded? Inhaling in an effort to compose myself, I sent my tired eyes around the new area. I found myself in a long, rectangular room of nothing but boilers. Right and left they lined both walls in rows, creating a lengthy corridor to walk in the middle of which I sat. The only exit to the room that I could see loomed in front of me. I knew I shouldn't be here. Not here, not out in the open like this for him to stumble upon, not for him to find me vulnerable and ripe for the picking. I heaved a sigh and attempted to get up and my legs berated me with pain.

"Shit." Sooo, legs were off the table. I swayed from side to side to find a place to drag myself to. If I couldn't run, I had to hide. A rapid scan convinced me that the second boiler on my right was ideal. I padded over with both palms, slinging my lower body along as if I had fallen out of a wheelchair and simply needed to pull myself back to it.

Could I have walk-crawled my way there? Admittedly yes. I was just too tired to accomplish it. I didn't want to run anymore. I wanted to sleep; A nice deep sleep to transport myself anywhere else but where I currently was. Any place had to be better than this. Dragging along my nearly dead weight, I planted my hand on the rustic side of the appliance and pushed myself around and alongside it, successfully out of view from prying eyes. There in its shadow, I scooted and retreated as far back as I could. Once hidden, I back fell against the wall and I sat there between the bodies of two boilers, bathed in their shared gloom. My eyes closed and my breathing let itself slow.

The only option I seemed to have now was to hide. It wasn't an ultimate solution; Just a slap-on salve to the problem. I didn't doubt that he would end up finding me. He could probably smell me if he wanted to. Who knew what I smelled like right now. I damn sure didn't smell like roses.

If I ever got out of here alive, I was going to take the longest bath in history. If dad had been worried about Alysson getting all pruny, he would flip if he could see the human raisin I was intent on becoming from soaking so long. The thought of a relaxing, soothing bath melted the tension from my body. Quietly I sighed. In my moment of ease, my head rolled over to look at my freshest injury. The bandage job was anything but elegant. That didn't matter. As long as it did its thing by keeping the majority of my blood inside of me where it belonged, I was happy. I could live with it..

Well…Live with it until Freddy killed me.

"God!" I slammed the palm of one hand into the floor angrily. Why? Whhyy had this had to happen to me? Why fucking me?! And WHY HIM!? Of all of them, it had to be him! It was no secret that if my pursuer had been Creeper I wouldn't have been much happier about it, but fuck! From all of the choices from the line-up of my roommates, the one to snap and try to murder me was arguably the one that terrified me the most?!

I sent a glare up into the steaming, twisted-metal heavens. Not fucking funny, universe! Why couldn't it have been Ghostface or Chucky? Ghostface probably would have slipped on his own knife and Chucky…I could have just fucking punted him like a football and called it a day! He was small enough! Surely I could have thrown that little bastard over a catwalk..

For a few seconds I marinated in the brew of my ire…Until a tiny humored exhale fled from my nose. It was intimately followed up with a fragment of a snicker, which blurted into a crazed giggle. Imagining Chucky falling and swearing all the way down like the dog had...Was actually kind of funny now that I thought about it. It was enough to make me internally cackle. Oh man. What a great thought. I smiled and enjoyed the brief minute of personal amusement before it was rudely interrupted-

By someone skirting to a halt in front of me.

My body reacted on impulse by drawing back one of my legs to kick but I froze before I could propel my foot forward. It stayed there, knee somewhat against my chest with my dirtied, bare foot hovering awkwardly between the two of us. It wasn't Freddy, it was..It was a child. Not much older than my younger sister. A sketch of surprised bewilderment came over my face as I took in his appearance:

A little boy stood in front of me dressed in garments that were pure white. The clothes were way too clean for being in this dank, grubby Hell. The kid appeared all but untouched by the grime our surroundings offered. He was dressed oddly formal for a place like this; In white dress shoes, white socks, white shorts, a white partially-ribbed dress shirt underneath a white fitted vest. His brown hair slightly curled the way Max's did, except the length was longer; Wavy hair just long enough to rest on the tops of his shoulders. A small mole sat on his inner cheek, below his right eye and above his nostril. Slight bags hung below brown eyes that were just as brown as his hair. While he couldn't have been much older than Alysson, it was further difficult to tell his age with the way he held himself and the way he looked at me. He seemed somehow older than his youthful visage portrayed..

My leg dropped back to the floor. So there were children here! Was he the only one? Were there more of them? Hiding? Watching? What was he doing here? Another question formed then as I stared at him, watching him drop into a crouch to be on my level. Had he been the one that had thrown the ball earlier?

I leaned forward and whispered; "Who-"

Immediately his eyes widened and he shook his head so hard that his hair lifted with every left to right swing. His hands assisted in displaying his urgency while he waved them over each other. He was telling me no? No to what? When I gave him a confused look, he pointed at his mouth with both index fingers and trembled them for emphasis.

No…No talking..Was that what that meant? I shook my own head and gestured to my lips, mouthing nothing in particular and raised my eyebrows as an attempt to show him that I was trying to guess what he meant. His face lit up and he nodded. Um. Allriight..

The expression of satisfaction was replaced with a more serious one. His hands cut a horizontal path in unison and I took that to mean 'no'. Then his head lowered a tad and the pointer finger of one hand thumped to land against his temple. He let the finger stay there, staring into my eyes grimly.

No mind? No..No thought? No thinking? That didn't make sense. My face twisted, telling him how puzzled I was. He exhaled through his nose and blinked. After a moment he held one hand up in front of his head and curled his fingers together like a hand-puppet. The hand-puppet flapped as if to mimic speech. Quickly the same hand went to his ear and tapped it a couple of times. Mind. Talking. Hear? He can hear my mind talking? What?

Once more those small hands swiped over each other to insist 'no!', before he repeated the talking gesture against his forehead and tapped his ear. My face perked in slow realization. No thinking! He..Didn't want me to talk or think?

This was…Weird. How was I supposed to ask him my burning questions if he didn't want me to speak? To make things more strange, he was additionally expecting me to silence my thoughts…For whatever reason. I didn't get it. What was the big deal? It wasn't like he could hear them..

I paused.

Or could he?

After all, stranger things have happened. The only way things could possibly get even more strange were if-

Nevermind. At this rate, I probably shouldn't chance urging even more absurd shit into existence.

I fixed him with a look of my own and lifted my hands face-up with a questioning shrug, a motion I hoped came across as 'why?'. Thankfully he appeared to understand. The boy flicked open the palm of his right hand and wiggled the fingers slowly. He then reared the hand back behind his head and carefully swung it around to cover his face ominously. The movement was unsettlingly familiar. It was something a certain red and green maniac liked doing a bit too much. It was Freddy he now spoke of. That much was clear. The only question was, what about him?

I watched again as his finger returned to tap his ear. With that he pointed at me and motioned a final gesture, another tapping to his forehead. The hand drifted away to see what I would do.

Honestly all I could do was stare.

His head twitched forward with a raised eyebrow, clearly expecting me to understand. Grimacing, I shook my head. Exhaling roughly, one of his hands up came to scratch through his hair. I didn't have to guess that he was frustrated. The moment to express his frustration with our game of charades cut itself sort when he perked up. The boy set me with an intense expression while he mimed Freddy's hand movement.

Okay. Freddy.

Then his hands went together, palms pressed, and opened in the middle like a book. One hand stayed in place while the other pinched and turned an imaginary page.

Reading? Reads?

My sole focus fixed upon him with every new motion, determined to figure this out. Maybe if I got out of this Hell, this silent conversation would prove as as nice practice for speaking with Jason tomorrow. Watching way too intensely, my eyes stayed on him as his hands dropped and one of them pointed at me, before tapping his temple again. I attempted to put the gestures together:

Freddy. Reads. Your.

Hesitation brewed. Thoughts? Mind? Wait..

Oh Hell. He was kidding, right?

My eyes widened to silently mouth the words; "Freddy reads my thoughts?!"

Solemnly the child nodded.

Well that's…Fucking unfair. What in the actual ever living fuck had I ever done to Freddy to warrant him putting me up against these impossible odds? I mean, really. First the guy kidnaps me and drops me here. Then he puts his monster mutts on me. And after that, he attacks me and chases me around while laughing like a lunatic?

Like what the fuck, man?

But before I could entertain communicating with the child further he rushed forward, not so gently shoving my legs out his way. He knocked them to the side to make room for himself in my hiding spot and forgetting myself at his suddenness, I whispered heatedly; "Hey! Watch i-" His eyes were back to an expression of alarm and he slapped his hand over my mouth. My own hand raced to pull it away to share a few choice words with him when I heard it-

Footsteps.

Followed by the baleful sound of whistling.

The movement of my hand died on the spot and I held it over his wrist, too afraid to move it away and off of my lips. Both of us went as still as statues to listen. As heavy as the footsteps were, I knew exactly who it was. Who else could it have been? Who else would be walking so pleasantly in a place like this and on top of it, fucking whistling? There was no mistaking it. He had found us.

Freddy was here.

The footsteps slowed and the whistled song slowed with them. Notes trailed off and silenced. His steps came to a stop to murmur thoughtfully; "Hmm.." His voice was nearby. Frighteningly close. I looked at the boy the same moment he looked at me. I quieted my breathing as best as I could. Tried to breathe slllooowwlly through my nose. Keep my mind blissfully empty. No thinking. Just being in the moment.

This moment sucked.

There was an audible shift then, what my mind interpreted to be his feet turning to look around; "I know you're here," A low laugh came right after and he continued. "I bet you thought you got away, huh?" Freddy snickered and it took everything I had not to piss myself when I saw the start of his shadow stretch along the floor over the boy's shoulder in front of me. I squeezed my eyes shut and shivered from an abrupt cold chill.

All I had to do was ignore him. I just had to not think. Not think or imagine the murderous bastard finding the both of us cornered against the wall. Not entertain any gruesome fate that might come after that. I had to concentrate on the now. I rubbed the pads of my fingers together in small circles, trying to ground myself and calm myself without the hard habit of overthinking. It was a little technique that Max had taught me months prior to our move and one I would have to thank him for again and again if it worked.

The boy had helped me. It was my job not to fail him. Not to fail me. And as long as I focused on the feel of the skin on my fingers, it gave me something to distract my talkative brain with, something to ground me to the present.

"You're awfully quiet," He sounded almost disappointed. "Why is that?" His steps roamed further into the room. "Whhy are yoouu…Soo..Quiet?" I could feel him gazing about the boilers in search of me. His rough voice rose, playfully to inquire; "Is it because you're hiding?" The laugh he made was between a dark snicker and a rasp. "Are you hidin' from me, hm? Ohh, I hope you are. I looove to play hide-and-seek." I hadn't forgotten. It was a personal fact about himself that he had expressed when I had hid in the attic the first night. And now that knowledge was scarier than ever.

His boots shuffled away. Far enough away that it encouraged me to do something stupid. Incredibly stupid. Carefully I pried the kid's hand from my mouth and redistributed my weight to go past him. To cautiously and slowly adjust my positioning to march along the floor on my hands and knees. The boy watched me incredulously but he didn't make a move to stop me. He wanted the same thing I did: To see where the psycho was. He silently eased back to let me get by without complaint.

"Hmm, wheerre couuld Jennnnifer be?"

Glancing back at him, I cautiously moved my head forward to peek. Peering around the edge of the boiler to the left of the lengthy space, my hair trailed over the floor with me. Seeing Freddy made me rear back like a cat seeing a dog for the first time. But he hadn't seen me. His back had been facing our side of the room. With this in mind, I urged myself to go forward again to get a proper look. One frightened blue eye crept out to spy on him.

Freddy prowled past the long line of containers. One shoulder drooped while the other sat higher. He was on the hunt. I watched with hardly suppressed fright as he sank his torso forward into a hunch, creeping up to a boiler of his choosing. His height lowered as he felt his way around the corner of it with both hands, as if to sneakily play along with the one-sided game. When he got close enough to the gap between that particular appliance and another, he pushed off from the container with his glove in the air behind him, ready to strike. His head surveyed the empty space and he turned faster than I anticipated to look at the boilers across from the one that had just been his sole focus. His bladed arm returned to his side, mentally picking another one to check.

He darted on to the next of his selection, his gloved hand drifting behind him to flex the blades. Slowly he went and his voice was back to taunting me; "Is she hiiding inn.." He jumped into view of another pair of boilers; "HERE?"

When he could not find me trembling on the floor in front of him, he turned and I ducked out of view. Seeing Freddy creeping around in such a malevolently playful manner had covered me in goosebumps. Gingerly retreating back to huddle next to the boy, I gave him a desperate what-the-hell-do-we-do look. He scooted closer to me and began to mime, meanwhile I translated. He pointed at me and made both hands lift and drop palms-down in unison twice. A hand went to himself and pointed out past the boiler where Freddy was.

You stay. I go.

Go? He was gonna go out there? With Freddy right there?! That was asking to be caught! I rapidly shook my head in refusal. I didn't at all enjoy the idea of Freddy getting his grimy hands on him. However, the boy denied my refusal. Again he mimed it, this time with more passion.

You stay! I go! Then he pointed at me and jabbed his finger elsewhere. From what I understood of the area, he had gestured in the direction of the exiting passage, right in front of where I had originally fallen to my knees. My eyes went to where I knew it was and returned to the sight of his nodding, you're-not-changing-my-mind expression.

My heart went out to him. This kid…He didn't even KNOW me! Yet he was willing to risk being sighted by an evil fuck with knives for fingers. How..How could I ever thank him? He had to have known the place better than me. Otherwise I doubted he would be as confident as he was. He had found me after all in my pitiful hiding spot. That meant he could potentially give Freddy the slip. Potentially.

My head shook in awe. I took his hand with both of mine, giving him my most sincere gratitude via expression. Hating myself for agreeing to it, I raised his hand to my mouth and placed a thankful kiss of appreciation, not knowing how else to thank him. A flicker of a smile ghosted over his lips, but it was quickly replaced with that same determination. Before I had a chance to figure out a way to say goodbye, the boy was on his feet. He stalled just long enough to look out at Freddy, to make sure he was safe to go. Without looking back at me, he sped away. I heard a rapid knocking of his fist against one of the boilers and then just his feet, getting farther away faster than I thought him capable of being. My admiration morphed into fearful hope when I heard another pair of footsteps chase after where he had gone.

"Where do you think you're goin'?" He sneered.

Freddy had taken the bait.

I waited until the thud of his boots were nothing more than distant thumps. Ignoring my bodily grievances, I shoved myself up and speed walked past the appliances and through the entry that hopefully promised a way out. And good lord, it fucking did. Out this immediate area anyway. The passage ended just after the sight of a spiral staircase that led down. I threw a look back over my shoulder and then back to it. If this was the only way to go…I'd take it.

I approached the descent, fighting between wanting to scurry down and not quite wanting to. This was my window of time for an escape. If I descended, it had to be now. There could be no hesitation. God only knew how long the boy would keep him distracted for. Once Freddy found out that it wasn't me that he was chasing..

A strong shudder had me cross my arms. Now or never. My small savior had insisted that I go this way. He had no reason to steer me wrong. So I had to put my trust in him. Besides myself, there was no one else to put my trust in. I inhaled deeply. Squaring my shoulders, I took the first step onto the top stair and looked down. It winded below, the thick beam in its middle preventing any further glimpse of what lay ahead. With the image of the child's face in my mind, I disregarded my reluctance and began my descent. Some of the rungs were missing from the curved railing of the staircase. It shared the same dilapidated feel that everything else did; With its patches of rust and profoundly scraped paint. The triangular steps were uncomfortably warm under my bare feet. I shivered in spite of its warmth.

Letting my hand trail behind me along the curving rail, I curiously followed the unsettling turn. While I wasn't allowed to use my mind to voice the thoughts that wanted to spring free, it didn't stop damning images from manifesting. Every moment I fully expected Freddy to appear on the stairs in front of me, laughing like a madman as he tried to slash me to death. And every moment that passed that the mental pictures did not come true, I took a thankful breath. I ventured a look past the railing into the rest of the factory at what surrounded me. I stopped on the stairs. My lips parted in surprise, my eyes darting to take it all in. A realm of absolute madness.

It was different. The place, the entire room…Had changed! Again! Given, it was still one big deathtrap of machines, chains, and steam, but no longer was I thousands of stories up. On the contrary, I wasn't even that high up at all!

All of a sudden I could see the ground floor! No more elevated platforms! No more precarious catwalks! Just walls and floor; Thicker, more-sturdy walls and actual cement floor. From the view I could see more furnaces, and unfortunately more dead ends, but..I could at last see the bottom of this place. Did that mean an entrance was nearby? A way to leave? A way out? I picked up the pace of my feet, now eagerly taking steps one right after the other as fast as I could manage.

Maybe the ever-changing motions of the factory had its benefits after all. My guardian angel had been onto something! A smile cascaded over my mouth. The next time I saw him I was going to give him the biggest sisterly bear-hug that I could muster! Swing him around off his feet and everything! Better to visualize that, than the notion that he wouldn't be able to get away from Freddy.

The building excitement made short work of the stairs. My foot reached the solid floor and for half a second I seriously contemplated kissing it. How filthy it looked dissuaded that temptation, but I wasn't any less grateful. I could smell it now: The scent of success, of freedom. Potentially just moments away! I broke into a jog down a stretch of a broad hall, leaking pipes overheard. A particularly sizable furnace could be seen marking its end, bearing a left and a right way to go. The fire inside of it glowed fervently, almost too bright to look at. The front of the appliance had no barrier or door to block the flames. The square opening nearly took up all of it. I raced towards it like it was a beacon to guide the way out of my current darkness.

Without incident I made it to the wide furnace-

Perhaps I shouldn't say 'without incident'. Right as I got close to it, there was a noise behind me. Far away down the hall that I had just jogged. A horrifically recognizable sound…Of an animal growling. It robbed me of the will to decide on a direction to go. All I could truly manage was a reluctant turn to see what I dreaded to see…What I seriously hoped was my imagination, but no. It was not my goddamn imagination.

The dog was there. The one that had never jumped.

And it was in front of the spiral staircase, glaring at me. Miraculously it had managed to find me. To seek revenge.

Tonight just wasn't my night, was it?

Before my hope could escalate to despair, I got an idea. It was the heat ghosting over my lower back and clothed legs from the exposed maw of the furnace behind me that paved the way for it to form. Though just like that, I knew what to do. My boy angel had to be bait for Freddy? I could be bait for the mutt. It wanted me so bad? The fur-covered shit with legs was going to have to come over and take what it wanted because I wasn't budging until it did, and would only do so right before it would..

I stepped into place before the container, dead center, staring down the hound at the end of the corridor. I made the usual kissy noises that most dog owners would and patted my knee through the hole in my capris; "Here boy!" My voice echoed to reach it, bouncing off of the metal and concrete around. I couldn't let myself get distracted over the possibility that Freddy might hear me. Dog first, Freddy later.

My torso lowered ever so slightly to beckon it. I said in my most welcoming tone; "Come here! Cooomee heeereee," The thing threw its hideous head back and snarled that weirdly similar big cat howl. It took a few steps. My heart tightened in my chest and I swallowed my nervousness to speak to it. "Come on, don't be shy! I'm right here. Riiight heeree. You know you wanna." The beast burst into a flurry of rapid steps and stopped short to let loose another appalling shout. I cooed in reply; "That's riight. You want the tooyy? Huh?" My hand thumped the front of my chest. "Toy's right here. Come and get it!"

It accepted the offer.

The abomination charged and emitted an abysmal scream. Its talons clicked and its legs pumped, its ungainly head wobbling up and down in its rush to get to me. I raised my voice with it, encouraging the dog to keep going; "That's right! Come on, you ugly fuck!" My feet shifted side to side, bracing myself on the tips of my toes like a tennis player ready to return the ball. "Comeoncomeoncomeon!" I chanted, slapping the front of my hips to urge it on. It bounded ever closer and I waited, waited for that perfect moment. It came closer and closer. Snarling. Eyes on me. I couldn't move too soon. I couldn't move too late. I had to get the timing right. I had to. If my plan worked the way I hoped it would, my dog problem would be well taken care of.

Once close enough to see clearly its terrible features, it took a running leap through the air towards me-

I turned, side-stepping the mutt as it launched past..

Straight into the furnace.

It was screaming before it even landed inside, even before the pain of the fire had registered in its animal brain. Pulling myself to a safer vantage point, I couldn't refrain from watching the result of its greed. It tumbled in, rolling and rushing into the metal walls of the inside with a blind panic to escape its fiery torment. The flames wrapped around its flailing body to mark its flesh in an enveloping scorch, a scornful and unwanted embrace. It charged into the front of the opening, its head thrown back to look at the rest of the factory.

The human face warped into a mask of fear, and for a sickening moment it appeared to be looking up at me as if to beg for mercy. The firelight reflected in its hideously wide eyes while its mouth gaped in a haunting shriek. The paws slipped and clacked ineffectively in an attempt to climb out. Thankfully the container had been deeper than I had thought it would be and prevented the beast from leaving. It tried to find a different way to go as it scrambled and screeched about, not realizing that it had entered through the only exit.

All too soon, it had become a dark silhouette in the radiant glow of the fire, its own sentient pillar of flame as it burned alive, thrashing and screaming all the while.

A morbid feeling of satisfaction festered inside me while I watched it burn. I couldn't lie. I would have stayed there longer to watch amidst all its shrieks if an uneasy possibility hadn't occurred to me:

Freddy wasn't deaf. If he were close enough, he would be able to hear its death cries. And while I had been confident enough to win this minor battle, I was in no way prepared to challenge him. So, while maintaining my smug stare, I turned away from the gruesome sight and took the left path. The farther I got from my crime the better. I put some pep in my step and hustled onwards to leave the horrid noises behind.

I was about to continue pursuing the straightaway but a right passage entry caught my eye, and I did a double take over my shoulder before I could go out of its view.

There was a light at the end of a long, thin hallway of which was just wide enough for me to pass through. A torn, dirtied curtain partially blocked it from sight but the light meshed through its coarse fabric nonetheless. Beyond the off-white curtain, I could see a slim glimpse of a room. There was something about this source of light that appeared different. It almost seemed..Cozy. Inviting. It didn't give off the same murderous feel that everywhere else did. I halted abruptly. Was this what my rescuer had wanted me to find by going down the stairs? Whether it was or not, the continued wails of the burning creature were still too close for comfort.

I headed towards the mysterious area. Propelling myself into a light jog, I went to meet it. My feet clamored harshly over a thick grate on the floor. It sent up a wave of hot air, momentarily burning my clothed legs with its temperature. Thankfully it hadn't been hot enough to hurt. I proceeded over it and with every foot of distance I closed, what I could fathom of the room inside became more detailed. I slowed to a stop once I got there, and with slightly trembling fingers, pulled the curtain aside to enter.

The space was smaller than I expected. It was a single room. Bedroom to be more accurate. The discovery had me wondering for a moment if this was where the little boy slept. It was without a doubt the most comfortable, safest place to be in when you looked outside the curtain at the rest of the god-awful landscape. Either way it couldn't have been abandoned. It could not have been just a random room left to rot. It was far too personalized for that to be the case. My eyes roamed from left to right, taking in everything a piece at a time:

A single furnace stood against the middle of the left wall. While I wasn't able to see the front of it from where I currently stood, I could hear the crackling fire within. Unlike the last furnace, this one actually had a barred door covering the fire and was a lot taller and smaller in comparison. The placement almost made it seem like it was meant to be a fireplace; Just of a more industrial persuasion.

Past the appliance and covering a strange amount of the bedroom's floor were toys. All sorts of them. Enough to be amassed in a lengthy, knee-high pile. They ranged from stuffed animals to figurines, from dolls to colorful balls, from building blocks to miniature cars and trains, from rockets to things that I wasn't even familiar with. Not a single one of them were clean. All of them were entirely smothered in filth of varying kinds. Some had been terribly neglected. Teddy bears missed their eyes, dolls were balding, paint had been faded; The majority of the huddle lay in squalor. A generous pile of children's toys littered the left-middle space, clouding and obstructing the floor underneath until it reached the foot of a narrow bed. Above the playthings spanned a collection of old newspaper clippings and articles.

One toy hung alongside the papers. It was a wooden puppet of a boy, fully painted. Brown hair. Peach colored skin. Wearing a matching gray pajama set. Above it, the strings went to a hand-held wooden cross to control its movements. This one suffered no visible damage that I could see. That was curious. I let my eyes hover over it for a while longer before moving on.

Various posters declaring the tragic headlines of 'MISSING CHILD' scrawled over the headshots of said missing children. Their individual information ran down below their photos, listing text and descriptions too small and smudged to see. Their black and white countenances looked on, their smiles hauntingly vacant. It was such a morbid choice for decor that it made me overwhelmingly uncomfortable. I hugged myself, tearing my eyes away from them in that nothing-I-can-do feel of guilt. Facing away from them, I took a couple of steps past the furnace to inspect the rest of the surroundings better.

My gaze traveled to the bed. It wasn't any better looking than the toys were. The mattress lay on a bedframe of tainted metal. While it possessed no bedsheets, it did have a blanket. The brown cover laying on the mattress was a teeth-gnashing, wooly texture, sprinkled with an array of unpleasant looking stains. The pillow wasn't alluring either. It was pin-striped and pathetically flat and quite frankly, in much need of a newer, cleaner, and fluffier replacement. A long, thin strip of leather strapped the pillow down to the bed. My eyebrows furrowed. It was such an unnecessary way to treat a pillow. It wasn't as if it would go anywhere..But I mentally cast aside the weirdness of it.

Next to the bed opposite the wall of the furnace stood a tall metal shelf that looked like it had seen better days. It appeared rickety at best. It had an almost scrawny look to it. The shelving slightly warped and the parallel supports bore small repeated holes in its metal.

On the bottom shelf were cardboard boxes teeming with indiscernible items. Above the bottom shelf there were coiled loops of copper wires differing in their coloration, and next to their cluttered display sat a rusting toolbox. The next level held an assortment of things that meant absolutely nothing to me. All that could be derived was that they were distinctly metallic. The top one was barren.

Finally came the sight of the corner to begin the right-most wall of the room. Three battered lockers loomed beside a desk. The doors were closed, horribly scraped and clawed. I tried not to think by what. Which had my eyes going over the desk just next to them. A bare-bones metal folding chair sat right in front of it.

Shockingly, the desk was not metal in any way. It was the only piece of furniture that wasn't. Instead it was entirely made of chestnut-colored wood. It didn't have much going on for it save for the small cubby-hole below it on its right side. Inside the cubby were many curled magazines. It was impossible to tell what kind they were so I gave up on trying to decipher their images.

My eyes swept back up to return to the desktop. It was no subversive example from the living space. A confusing jumble of gloves, knives, tools, and screws busied its surface. My gaze drifted away from it back to the curtain from which I had entered.

That was when I noticed them. Both of them. Sitting on the floor between the desk and the entrance.

Filthy food bowls.

One red.

One green.

The breath in my throat threatened to strangle me. In one excruciating realization, it was evident exactly who's room I was standing in. The only motherfucker that I knew that would pin missing child posters to their walls and own human-headed pets. It was amazing that the gloves and blades laying around on the desk hadn't instantly clued me in. Dumbass!

This wasn't the boy's bedroom. It was Freddy's. I needed to get out of he-

On cue the furnace's fire roared to life and I jumped back from it with a yelp. Back far enough that the view to my right revealed Freddy FUCKING STANDING THERE BESIDE IT.

The yelp leveled up into an embarrassingly squeaky scream. My legs malfunctioned at that moment and I fumbled back against the footrail of the bed, my hands scrambling blindly for the rungs to grip, and my injured hip bared its weight against the side of the mattress.

As if that wasn't bad enough, the heart-stopping sounds of paws crossing over the floor caused my head to rip to the side as BOTH of the dogs waddled their way through the entrance. I scurried back farther on the bed, hiking my legs off the floor to tuck against my chest. I stared at them, not quite able to believe that they were there but they were: The dog that I thought had fallen to its death and the other that I had tricked into burning alive.

The former dragged behind an obviously broken hindleg, but was otherwise none worse for wear. The latter however, that was a different story. It looked like a burn victim covered in fur, or what was left of it. It suffered a charred and seared visage, sporting a deep magenta of muscle-smooth patches of missing fur all over its body. And out of both of the mutts, its half melted face with its now droopy eyelid said that it was the one that looked most happy to see me.

This was a fucking nightmare.

The one with the broken leg and nose wheezed. It hacked and coughed. And after a moment, it regurgitated a slimy patch of material through its maw. It licked around its mouth in that distinctly dog-like way and I couldn't stand to look at it any longer. My eyes beelined for the thing it had coughed up.

I instantly recognized it as the bit that it had torn from the knee of my capris. The sound of a chuckle drew my eyes away from it.

Freddy was smiling at me with that seedy, ready-to-maim look. He knew I was scared shitless. No doubt my stumbling upon and entering his evil den had gone exactly to his plans, and if not, it was all too clear that I had just made his job to slaughter me a goddamn breeze. I might as well have written 'murder me, please!' on my fucking forehead.

I watched him reach over to the front of the furnace with his non-gloved hand to surely fling away the barred door housing the fire. It creaked and groaned on ancient hinges. Without removing his gaze from mine, he fed a child's ragdoll into the flames from his gloved hand. The toy went in, engulfed in dancing fire. His gaze went over to the hounds.

"It's okay, boys. Your job's done. Go ahead and take the day off. I'll take it from here," His eyes sought mine while shutting the furnace's cover and his smile widened. "This one's mine, and I'm gonna take care of her." I felt my pupils dilate. Felt my chest slowly rise and fall with the weight of his words. The threat wasn't finished though. It continued in a near gravelly purr; "Reeeaal. Gooood. Caare of her." He snickered behind closed lips. If my heart could jump out of my chest and run for the hills, I knew it would've.

What had happened to the boy?

The dogs growled in protest. Evidently they didn't appreciate being dismissed when there was still unfinished business to get to; Like tearing me apart limb from limb. Yet all it took was one sharp snap of his fingers to get them moving. They flinched at the sound and shrank away. For once they actually sounded like dogs as they whimpered and whined, leaving the room one right after the other. The one with the broken leg and nose left first. The burnt one, on its way out, gave one last hateful look before obediently following its sibling. The entry curtain lightly fluttered with their exit.

"You know," My head snapped back to look at Freddy. The canines might have left, but the main issue still lingered. With his eyes on me, his mouth set into a grim line. A finger from his left hand shook. "You did a reeaal number on my dogs." His tone was scolding, as though he were about to punish me for what I had done. I swallowed. Should I apologize? But for what? Defending myself? Surviving? I wasn't even a teensy bit apologetic. It turned out that I didn't have to be. His mouth suddenly took on a grin. "You did better than I thought ya would." Was that…Was he complimenting me?

"..Thanks?" My voice was tiny.

He didn't respond. Instead those eyes landed on the piece of fabric that his dog had stolen from me. His head tilted and he stooped over to pick it up.

I have no clue why I thought it was a good idea, but I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't take this sick game. I could not handle the banter. I just could not sit there and take it. Dealing with him was something I could not stomach for one moment longer. Dealing with the dogs was suddenly a much better fate than dealing with him. Inside something had snapped. Maybe it was the scraggly string of my reasoning, maybe it was meant to be my sanity, whatever it was, it caused me to fly off of the bed into a full-on sprint to head out of the room. A last primitive want for escape and to avoid whatever he and his blades had planned. Freddy's head jerked up and he sprung at me.

Needless to say, I didn't make it out.

With an ease that spoke of someone that had done this countless times before, Freddy stepped towards me as I approached and shot his left hand forward. The swift gesture similar to snatching a pesky fly out of the air. It went directly for my neck and anchored itself into place just underneath the bones of my jaw. Upon contact, his fingers tightened into a vise-like grip and my hands impulsively went to his wrist to pry them off. My feet forgot how to run and my eyes widened as I gasped for breath.

Fuck. Was I seriously about to be strangled again?

While I struggled to rip his hand off my throat, he continued forward. He closed the distance between us. Too close. Too quickly. Very quickly making him and I about face-to-face and chest-to-chest. Seared hand around my neck, he walked me backwards in a domineering manhandle, leaving my feet to awkwardly shuffle along. I twisted and wriggled my upper body in an effort to help break out of his hold, but it seemed about as effective as shooing away a hungry tiger.

Too quickly the back of my thighs hit the corner of his desk. Emitting a gruff snarl, he held me aside long enough to sweep away everything in his reach to the floor with his right arm, before pulling me center and slamming me back, all the back against it. The items that had been innocuously resting spilled and clattered to the floor. I audibly strained in the effort to raise up, but he was already over me, pressing me onto its surface with his weight. And to my great discomfort, leaning over me between my legs. Even though they had been effectively rendered useless to me from the position, my feet kicked and jerked about regardless while my toes just managed to touch the floor.

My world had gone vertical. All I could see were the upper walls, the fact that the room didn't even have a ceiling as it stretched on into metal eternity, and him. His face hovered high above mine, teeth gritted, his eyes lit with a sadistic delight while I lost more and more air. My heart sounded like a rapid tempo of a bomb about to explode. It was the only other sound that I could hear aside from his breathing and my wheezing gasps.

I threw my watery eyes all around, as if trying to find some escape plan written on the walls. His hand squeezed harder. The pressure built in my skull. My hands gave up on trying to overpower him. The left slapped and beat at the chest of his matted sweater and the right reached up next to my head, the elbow bending further in an attempt to find something on the desk that I could use.

The unsteadiness in my hand had the tips of my fingers bumping around into things, the only things that hadn't been knocked away from his arm, and I patted and thumped, scrambling for any remaining object in reach. They met with something cool and flat and I twitched my nails against it, progressively becoming more lightheaded the longer it took. Thankfully the next second arrived and with it I managed to secure whatever it was in my grasp. Spots danced in my vision. Clasping the mystery item as hard as I could, I jabbed it forward with a hoarse wheeze. The sharp pain I felt from squishing it into my skin became instantly forgotten when what I held sank into the side of Freddy's neck.

His eyes went wide and he surrendered my throat immediately. My lungs chose his moment of weakness to take in all the air that they could. While doing so, I watched as he blinked a couple of times. Freddy felt around for his wound and I saw what it was that I had stabbed him with. From the side of his throat protruded the sheen of a steel knife, its jutting end weirdly flat. The familiarity dawned on me and I realized that it was a spare blade, the exact kind that currently decorated his metallic digits.

Green blood oozed down to his pinkened collarbone, vile and oddly luminescent. More like a toxic liquid than actual blood. The shock of what I had just done held me to the spot. Somewhere inside existed a shred of guilt; As though I had hurt someone that I shouldn't have, but the thought was banished right after. The fucker was trying to kill me, and had been trying to kill me for a surplus of hours now. He had made it clear from the get-go that peace wasn't an option. That blade in his neck was his own damn fault, NOT mine!

The reassurance of my action had me bolting up with the intent of throwing myself to the side off of the desk for escape. But just like before, I was not successful. This time his gloved hand snapped forward to replace where his left had been, and again my back met with the surface of his work desk in a single motion. The rear side of my head hit the wood and I groaned. Fortunately his glove did not intend on choking me. It simply pressed, not hard enough to prick the skin, but enough to keep me down. In fear of slicing my neck on his razors, I stilled.

For a moment he fixed me with a look that could melt the skin from my bones. And the next he smiled. The bastard rasped out a laugh and wrapped his fingers around the knife lodged in his neck with a grunt, quickly yanking it out. More green liquid dribbled and spat. I couldn't help but watch the cut leak its abnormal color.

Breathing heavily, Freddy brought the blade around for him to see and sent me an morbidly enthused expression. He tossed it to the side and it collided with the floor, the tinny sound of its landing making my heart flutter. Making sure that I was watching, Freddy took that same hand and waved it over the afflicted area. When it pulled away, the stab wound in his throat was no more. Even the blood that had wept from the wound was gone. He breathed out another laugh at the shock on my face.

After that he did something unexpected. He let go of my throat. The glove clicked and shrank away, slipping backwards through my palms while he straightened his back. I blocked my chest with my arms subconsciously, my fists balling over the neckline of the tank top, far too scared and confused to move as I stared up at him. His eyes went to my hands.

Suddenly my hands flew away from where I wanted them. They lashed out to either side and my palms stuck to the desktop as if by a will of their own. The sensation of an invisible weight pinned them in place and I wriggled them. I tried to lift them up with every ounce of my already depleted strength, but they would not budge. Breathing quicker, I attempted to get up but all I could do was writhe.

My eyes returned to him to find him smirking down at me. I had no choice but to keep watching him as his eyes headed towards the entrance and sunk lower to the now even messier floor. He gestured in the direction with a claw; "Aw, look what ya made me do. Now I'm gonna have to clean that up." His head went side to side and he "tsked". His glove rested, digits splayed against his torso and his head gave a smirking tilt; "Lucky for me, I caught myself a maid!"

When I made no move to respond, his body eased. Gloved hand dropping, Freddy visibly relaxed and both of his hands came closer to fix onto the edges of the desk on either side of me, his back arching into a studying shift. His chest angled forward to study me laid out in front of him. His eyes skimmed over the shitty bandage jobs, specifically favoring the slashes on my arm that he had inflicted me with;

"Ohoo, look at that. Got you good, didn't I? That looks like it stings." A half suppressed laugh rolled around in his mouth with a contemplative glimpse of his tongue. I flared my nostrils at him in silent anger, a bit too upset to reply. Curiosity was a close competitor. The chase had clearly concluded with him as the winner. At the moment I just wanted to see what would come next…What he would do and how this would end.

Unfortunately? I saw something unpleasant. Something really, seriously unpleasant.

The true realization that I couldn't move sank in for him. I could see the idea of it form and take shape in his facial features. The corner of his mouth rose and his eyes inched their way down. The anger swiftly relegated to fear.

No.

The mounting discomfort and panic had me forgetting all about the 'no-thinking' rule. My pleading thoughts would no doubt spur him on, yet I could not help it. Against my internal plea, those dark eyes proceeded to lower.

Stop.

But I couldn't make it stop. I couldn't do anything. Truthfully it felt like his gaze floated down in a measurement more akin to centimeters with how slowly and thoroughly he drank in the view. He took as long as he wanted in letting his gaze sweep over my body, scouring every curve, leaving no visual stone unturned. It had a way of making me feel completely naked in front of him. Present and helpless.

A sweltering heat crept up my neck and climbed its way into my face. He truly wasn't in a hurry at all and the longer the moment stretched on, the more the fear swelled. I couldn't think straight. All I could do was feel. Feel how close and wrongfully intimate this was, to be put on such display like this. If I had thought the incident in the bathroom had been bad, this…This was worse. To have a man looking at me like he was..

It brought me right back to the back yard. Being wrestled into the dirt under the moonlight by Creeper. Back to being powerless, back to feeling that weird fascination that I had never before experienced and could not make sense of, back to becoming someone else's meal. And I might as well have been, with the feasting of his eyes. My body became a bundle of nerves and I squirmed underneath the too intimate examination, struggling with different feelings. A slow breath lifted his chest and with its exhale, came a deep, absentminded murmur;

"Such a mess."

And she was.

The show was over. The dinner digested…With plenty of room for desert, and oh desert looked too fucking good to let go to waste. There had been many times when Freddy had been struck insatiable, but nothing quite like this. It brought to mind how a very select few other dreamers had made him feel like this. Every nightmare was a dream for him and this one had been the sweetest he had had in a long while. To say that he was riled up was an understatement. The hiatus from the Dream Realm no doubt had a lot to do with it. The rest…Had been because of her.

It had all depended on her and she hadn't disappointed.

His personal favorite game of 'Cat and Mouse' had been played so well. She had come in a little mouse and now…Now he was looking at someone potentially worthy of keeping up with the cat. She had had to reach deep and find her courage to endure it, and now that he knew for a fact she could be brave, that she could handle more than expected, it promised much more fulfilling play.

In the real world she was shy, unassuming, fragile. Her capability had shone through the turmoil and chaos he had created. He had seen it all unfold from the shadows, prowling after her through the steam and machinery, relishing her panic and uncertainty; Setting the boiler room like a stage, playing off of her fear.

The impulsive act of invading her dreams supplied him with the present certainty that his stay in the house was going to be much more enjoyable than he had thought. Would give him something to look forward to, a nice way to relieve his stress..

With all of the fear she had fed him tonight, Freddy felt like a new man. His body hummed with energy. He could feel all of that stolen fright coursing through him, multiplying his strength, and engorging his confidence to slaughter and hunt. Her screams, shrieks, and cries, her racing pulse, her sheen of sweat, her blood-speckled attire: All of it had egged him on, placed him on one high to another, and admittedly he had gotten carried away with the thrill more than once during her adventure. There had been many close calls. Obviously her terror had gone straight to his head and blurred his common sense. Even now, with nowhere else for her to run, no more obstacles for her to overcome for his entertainment, she was feeding him with her terror. And with her set in front of him like a meal? Ohh..

It was so much that he should have been full. He should have been absolutely satisfied. Though knowing him, it would never be enough. Here he stood, greedy bastard that he was, and he still wanted more. It didn't help that Jennifer hadn't woken up yet. She was still here and exacerbating his urge to draw blood. So why not enjoy it while he still could?

The way she looked right now, he wasn't remotely interested in tearing himself away. She lay on her back from the corner of his work desk, her arms face-down in their forced frozen state, her legs stretched over either side of where he stood. Her long hair was mostly trapped underneath her weight, though a good portion of it lay spread around her head like a crown. It sported a heavily ruffled, damp look, and the strands stuck to her face, neck, and arms. The red tank top clung to her body like a second skin, dark stains of profuse sweat decorating in the places that had sweated the most to outline her physique.

Half of it was gone. Ripped apart from being used as makeshift bandages that she had used to patch herself up with. Its destruction allowed him a nice view of her stomach and it matched the rest of her; Glistening in the fire of the furnace behind him. Smudges of soot and ash spotted just about everywhere. It spoke of just how long she had been in the boiler room. Apparently long enough for it to collect and gather on her clothes and flesh. The gray bottoms she wore missed a patch of fabric over one knee, with their own set of stains not earned from the dream; What looked to be smudges of grass and dirt. She looked like she had been rolling around in a coal shoot, and judging from the several marks and scrapes she bore, had had a hard time getting out of it.

No doubt gaining scratches from running past the crooked passage ways, every extended surface like teeth yearning for the taste of flesh, much like himself.

Now that she was caught..

So many options; Ways he could mar and ruin her skin, ways he could make her cry out and have her screams echo throughout the boiler room, have her fear coat the numerous walls. Not only because he wanted it, but because her screams would let the children know that their aim to help her had been for nothing. Though where to start? Where to trail his blades first? Second? And last? And in what order? He could hardly decide.

His eyes traveled up in time to see her face. She was watching him, her chest heaving silently, her gaze doe-eyed and glassy. A flush of red had appeared under the neckline of her top, surely spreading to blanket her face and chest in a blush, and she squirmed under his watch. Held captive, her waist swayed at the same time her hips rolled to lift. Done ever so gently. Done in such a way she probably didn't even realize she was doing it. Too focused on him to notice, but he noticed for her. An abrupt feeling of lust bristled inside him. He inhaled and exhaled slowly. She could wake up any minute now and when she did, she wasn't going anywhere. He'd get this chance again he was sure.

But until then..

The predator in him wanted to be closer. Wanted to trap her further. Keep the doe still.

His hands crept towards the outside of her legs. The simple act made her wince. His eyes held hers and it was his thumbs that met the cloth of her bottoms first. Both hands slid up and curved around her upper legs and he could feel her shaking. He didn't let them get far. His fingers rested along her inner thighs, some of his metallic digits pinching the fabric of her pants, hands situated directly below the backs of her knees and he gave an sudden, hard pull. It had her scooting closer to him in one smooth go, right up against him, so very close.

Any closer, and he'd be..

Mm. Now that was a thought. One he'd have to save for later. It might have been a good thing he had skipped out on the nightgown after all. He wouldn't have been sure how things would've gone if he had felt the soft flesh of her inner thighs on either side of him. Something he hadn't felt in a long, long..

A high-pitched gasp left her mouth when she slid against him, just shy of actually producing a shrill snippet of sound; A soft, wordless exclaim. It was enough to rip him from the imagery. He couldn't give into those thoughts yet..

He wasn't finished with her.

Easing her legs back down, he eyed her again. The blade marks on her inner arm, he enjoyed the view of all too much. Though where was the other one? He remembered his glove catching her somewhere else. Somewhere lower..

His gaze caught it. The flirtatious tease of red on her right hip. Partially hidden underneath a lengthy, errant section of her hair. Eyes glued to it, he brought his left hand closer. Again she tensed. His fingers lightly brushed aside the portion of hair to toss it aside, batting it away to reveal the injury her hip had received. A satisfied hum lifted his chest taking in the vision of three thin, bloodied lines along the cuts that the fabric had taken with the hit. Gray had become dark red in a crooked, but wide flowing stain that went down the outside of her leg. After a moment longer to visually enjoy it, his eyes leapt to her face. The movement startled her and her breath hastened.

Leaning in, his hands padded their way towards her and he hovered in as much as the position allowed him to. All the while his eyes burned into hers. Her breathing came faster. Pressing his left hand flat in the triangular gap that her arm and side offered, he brought his glove out to play.

Shink!

The blades opened wide to hover over her other hip and her breath hitched. There they flexed and bent, and he sent them ahead to the low pouch of her stomach. Even before the blades got there, he saw the skin tense and tighten at the thought of being touched. He had her watch as he averted his gaze to what he was about to do.

His index blade flicked forward, tracing spirals just a breath away from her belly button. Her hips wiggled and she shivered. Don't. His eyes glanced up. She lightly shook her head, her pupils entirely blown. His lip twitched. "Don't worry," He told her. "I'll be gentle." His mouth pressed closed while he snickered. The expression on her face was next to priceless. He took a second to savor it before returning his focus to her stomach. Delicately, the tip of the blade reached out and he drew a long, hazy circle up and around her navel. There was a flash of firelight as he did it. In spite of the room's heat, goosebumps popped up and spread in its wake.

Her waist writhed and shook, her upper body renewing a previous struggle to squirm away. To get away from his touch. An inaudible laugh from him at the sight exited in a breath. He let the glove retreat only to make a show. Flicking the primary knife outwards, he held it aloft above her stomach and began to dip its point down. Before the knife could press against the side of her belly, she stopped struggling. Holding herself still. She didn't even breathe at it pressed against her skin. Staring at him with a look that begged 'please don't'.

He did.

A fast cut whisked in a twitch of his bladed-finger and she jolted in pain, her body contorting off to one side as she sucked air in through her gritted teeth. A muffled cry came a second later and he savored the vision of the fresh cut leaking crimson down the glimmer of her flesh. He almost groaned in response. Pleasure rippled through him seeing her face scrunch to fight the sting, to endure the sensation. He reached across to the opposing side of her belly button, to the mirrored swath of skin with the intention to make a matching cut. Her breath was sucked inwards in a shaky stutter, but she stopped moving to lay flat against his desk again. Had gone still to watch in rapt terror. Hoping he wouldn't go through with it a second time.

Again the knife skirted across in one quick, measured stroke.

And again she reared off the desk, this time with a passionate exclaim. Her back arched sharply and she whined behind her mouth, twisting at the minor injury and the warm flow of blood as it dribbled down her stomach. Seeing it melt down her body, towards the start of her pant's waistline, the impulse to chase it with his tongue had his breath grow louder. Her wrists trembled and fought against the unseen weight that kept her in place. Jennifer let out a small, breathless sob; Such a pitiful sound while her body sagged back onto the surface of his work desk.

Already he was anticipating the third nick. Envisioning that frame of hers covered in thin, bleeding slits. Much like he had done to that whore, Lori Campbell. His glove went ahead. Almost held his breath for it, waiting to slice a little deeper, a little harde-

"What do you want!" Her voice. Breathless. Unsteady-

But determined. A bit stronger.

Freddy pulled his head to look up at her. The gaze that had previously been hopelessly timid, now scorched through him with a newfound intensity. That fight she had inside her had come back. "What do you really want? To scare me?" She swallowed. "Co-Congratulations...You did it," The nails of her held-hostage hands dug into the wood below and she insisted. "You had your fun. Now let me go!"

He could have laughed in her face. Laughed her right out of that brief, brave façade. Scare her? Had his fun? Ohh, the silly pig. She really had no clue did she? He wanted to do a lot more than that. This was only the tip of the iceberg of what he wanted to do to her.

Freddy simpered and bent over her close enough that his sweater brushed against her exposed stomach. Now closer to her face, he huskily said; "I'm only keeping up my end of the bargain," Her eyes narrowed questioningly. His head tilted with the taunting reminder. "I did say we'd pick this up later, didn't I?" He chuckled as she recalled their little moment in the bathroom. Her lips parted, drawing his attention to her mouth-

Just in time to see her spit up at him.

He felt the direct hit of it splat against his scarred cheek and for a moment…A single moment, Freddy Krueger was lost for words. To think that this frightened little piglet, this scared-out-of-her-wits bitch, who had been nothing but tripping-over-herself-nervous and afraid the entire time that he had known her, had just had the balls to do something like that, and to him of all people…Left him feeling some combination of awe and anger that he hadn't felt in a while. In fact, it was something that Nancy might have once done in her prime. He could almost imagine himself raking his blades down over her face in a punishing backhand, but the fantasy only lived for a second. The only thing that kept him from shredding her now terrified expression into ribbons was exactly that: Her undisguised look of horror over the realization of what she had just done.

If it wasn't obvious before, it definitely was now. She was nothing more than a cornered pig squealing at the thought of the slaughter. Fear made people do stupid things. Reduced them to the animals that they really were. He had quite literally backed her into a corner and she had simply reacted. The weakness of her position spoke volumes, and he wasn't about to let himself get worked up over someone so helpless, someone so robbed of power that all they could do was scramble for desperate actions in the face of someone so clearly in control. And with all the feeding his ego had taken tonight, and the feeding it was still actively getting, it was simply too engorged for him to be offended. The power dynamic of the current position between them reinforced that fact.

Keeping that in mind, he was almost…Impressed. So she wasn't quite so broken after all. She still had some fire left in her. It just took some digging to get it out. He couldn't deny that he liked that. Apparently he hadn't given her enough credit. Just like Chucky had said, her figurative balls were much bigger than he thought.

Fair enough. He'd give her that, but only this once, seeing as this was a 'special occasion' and all. He took the moment to inhale and let the heel of his gloved hand approach the still wet spot on his face. Jennifer watched as he wiped the spittle away with some of the well worn leather. He let her have a grin; "You got me." But I've got you..

With wide, reflective eyes so very much like every victim that had come before her, her mouth quivered on one word; "Pl-Please."

Jennifer's fight had finally, truly deserted her.

Her head shook in earnest, her features still plastered in avid disbelief; "I'm, I-I'm sorry! I-I don't know what came over m-me," Freddy knew exactly what had come over her and some slim part of him hoped that it would come again. Her tone was only above a whisper. "Just, please…Just let me go.."

He let the rest of her abdomen go untouched for now. Instead his glove extended both the bloodied pointer and middle to traverse the expanse of her. Walking his bladed fingers up along her stomach, breasts, and shoulder, he let the two digits take a leisurely stroll. The breath in her throat stuttered and she writhed under him, jiggling her captive wrists urgently. "Ohh, I don't know.." He mused, sounding deep in false thought.

That's when he noticed the bruising on her neck. Dark, purplish marks that were suspiciously in the shape of fingerprints that hadn't been made by him. While he had choked and thrown her around, he hadn't done so with the intent of marking her..Not with bruises anyway. And even if he had been the one responsible, enough time hadn't passed to have them appear. The bruises were someone else's doing. He took in their placement, a surge of annoyance manifesting. Something territorial began to gnaw at him.

Fortunately for him, Jennifer was a pretty nice distraction from the potential mood-killer.

Her eyes pleaded with him in unison with her thin, wobbling voice; "Freddy, please," Oh that little 'please' paired with his name was going to get her in a Hell of a lot more trouble than the kind she was in right now. The more she said the word, the more he liked hearing it. He had to admit he liked the sound of it more than he probably should have. It wasn't too often his victims got to live long enough to plead with him.

It was so sweet. Almost like a song. A little bird chirping its last melodies..

"If you can just let me out of here," She breathed, her voice coming out shrill and only getting more high-pitched the closer his knives came. "I can, I'll do anything you want! No one wo-would have to know, and-" The glove lifted to approach her chin. She inhaled and rushed on to say; "I can clean up for you! Your boots! Your glove! Anything!" Her cadence became even more frightened and small as she saw the index talon edge towards her face. Her eyes widened comically; "And-And it'll be like it never eve-even happened," Her eyes squeezed shut while she surrendered the side of her face to him. The sound of her whimper behind her quivering lip had his groin throbbing. The more she spoke, the more she got out of breath and hearing it inspired his own to quicken. "I'd just get back to my room and Iiii.." Freddy lightly trailed the flat side of his pointer blade down the bridge of her nose. Her nostrils widened and thinned with the rapid pace of her breathing. "I won't tell anyone!"

Now, where had he heard that line before?

A wicked snicker seeped through him. The blade went to her mouth and he gently placed the smooth section over her bottom lip. It rendered her momentarily speechless, with that mouth of hers hanging open for fear he'd slice the skin there if she moved. Her breath fogged and coated the red blade. Such a wet, little mouth…Pleading with him oh so nicely. He let it fall away. He was really enjoying hearing her beg. It would be a damn shame if he got in the way of letting her keep doing it.

Jennifer again inhaled roughly through her nose as she took his cue for her to continue, talking faster than before, becoming desperate as she tried to ignore the presence of his knives in front of her.

Chirp, chirp, chirp.

"Nobody will ever k-know, and…I'm sorry! I'm sorry about your dogs! I-I didn't know what else to do! I didn't want to die! B-But I ca-can make it up to y-you! Please, just let m-Shhhhhh." He shushed her, pressing the knife vertically against her mouth.

She was apologizing for those mangy mutts, Deeks and Blocker? Her desperation to appease him was hilarious. In truth he didn't give a damn about them. Just like the Elm Street Children, they only existed to serve the terms of appointed punishment. Once upon a time they had been the souls of his defense attorney and arresting officer. Now, it could hardly be said that they were human at all. He had felt that the canine forms fit them better: Dogs of the law, always chasing after their justice.

He had only fished the dog out of the flames because of the obnoxious racket it had been making. He would have left it to burn if the thing hadn't been taking forever to die; Partly due to having created them to be so durable he supposed. As for the other one, it had managed just fine from the fall that it had taken.

As for her insistence on keeping quiet, Freddy wasn't interested. Even if she could keep her mouth shut, he didn't want her to. He was the kind of man that made no apologies for who he was. Human life had been different. When one lived in a community, a man couldn't be entitled to his vices. His deepest desires, his more personal and darkest wants. It had been bitten back and hidden in his special room. Locked away and hardly suppressed. But now, now he could be all that he wanted without being forced to sweep his true self under the rug. With him, 'what you see is what you get.' And he intended for it to stay that way. Never again would he have to hide. To play pretend. To rely on someone keeping their mouth shut.

So she could run and tell whoever she wanted. Whether it be to the Hell Priest, or the waterlogged zombie, or her pet djinn. Any of them or all of them. Let her blab about their playdate. In the end it wouldn't keep her from coming back to the boiler room. Tonight had ensured her position as his new favorite toy for the time being.

Her offer of 'anything' however..

There was a fantasy being crafted in his mind; Being constructed with a replaying snippet of her voice, to intermingle with his own:

'I'll do anything you want!'

Anything I want?

'Anything!'

His cock throbbed at the word. 'Anything.' It was such a desperate, begging word. With that over-talkative mind of hers, it was like two mouths begging for the price of one as her thoughts filled his head in real-time; Please, please, please.

Another inhale and exhale to shove down the impulses.

He'd put a tab on that offer of hers for the future.

She finally obeyed the urging of silence both audibly and mentally, seeming to give up on conversation entirely in favor of making soft whimpers and whines. He took her chin in his gloved hand, his leather-clad thumb resting just under her lip while the knives fell on one side of her face, and moved it back to have her see him. The feel of his blades had her wince once more. "Anything?" One eye peeked first before the other opened to stare up at him. "Anything! " She insisted, and then quickly added; "W-Within reason!"

Had she realized she'd just sold her soul to the devil? He chuckled deeply and that's when he noticed the tell-tale sign of her waking up. Gradually she began to lose visibility, every second making her pale and subtly vanish as the Dreamscape released its hold on her, but the poor piggy hadn't even noticed.

His metallic fingers swayed side to side against her cheek. He pretended to relent with a considerate breath; "Ookaay. I'll let you go." Her wild eyes took on a too-hopeful gleam. "R-Really?!" It was adorable how glad and incredulous she sounded, how quickly she got her hopes up. He briefly shut his eyes in a genuine seeming nod. "Really," He let go of her chin.

"But first-"

She froze and her heart thumped loud enough to temporarily outdo the volume of the crackling fire. He put the sharp tip of a single blade to her left cheek, on-end and right near the side of her nose and she gasped, the startled noise only audible due to their intimate proximity. He was honestly overdue for a bit more blood-shedding. At least one more drop to help tide him over until tomorrow night couldn't hurt. With the memory of her spit connecting with the side of his face still fresh, it had a motto coming to mind: 'An eye for an eye' felt pretty fair and really a guy like him could put her through so much worse.

He looked into her eyes before concentrating on the skin of her cheek; "One for the road."

In one swift zip of his claw, he made a lengthy cut.

And then she was no longer there to cower underneath him. Her disappearance occurred so suddenly that a drop of her blood plinked onto the desk where she had just been. Freddy stared at it. It had been precisely what he had wanted. One last drop spilled.

He dipped the pinky of his left hand into the droplet of red and smeared what he could of it over his mouth. While he licked it away, he was now very aware that he was panting. His head ducked down and he groaned. Turning around to shift his hip against the edge of his desk, his left hand snaked down the front of his pants and rubbed at the bulge that had formed.

His hatted head tipped and he worked to get his breath back. His distracted gaze found the rest of the room and there on the floor, the patch of her pants that had been spat from one of his mutts stared back up at him. As if dealing with the raging hard-on wasn't enough, he still had to issue out a punishment to whoever had meddled in tonight's playtime. He sighed and his head fell back once again, left alone in the room with the utterance of one word;

"Fuck."