No one belongs to me besides the unfamiliar.

It was Saturday in the afternoon, which meant that it was a day to get off early from work, which meant that there was time to take a nap as the wife was out doing whatever the hell wives do. Run errands or something. There was a catch though: His daughter hardly got to see him.

"Daddy," a little voice of a young child called as she walked in the small living room.

Her father was laying the couch with legs crossed, arm under head with the other draped over his stomach, and his brown fedora over his eyes.

"Daddy?" She said again as she approached him.

"What?" He asked, sounding a little irritated.

She looked at him with large, uncertain, brown eyes. "I was wondering you-"

"Whatever it is, Katherine, it's a 'no'."

The little girl hung her head, then smiled as a small idea came to her mind, walked over to him, and climbed on him, causing him to raise his hand to his hat and push the visor up, revealing annoyed green eyes. The child then laid on him and hugged him as she closed her eyes. "I love you, Daddy."

The father lightened up with a small smile, wrapping his arm around her. "I love you, too, Kat." Then lowered the hat back over his eyes and the two quickly fell asleep.

Katherine's eyes snapped open at the little memory.

Once in a while her father would pop into her mind. It was a year since her father, the infamous Freddy Krueger, was destroyed by her hand. She knew that he was a horrible person, but couldn't help, but feel sorry for the guy. He was so called "the bastard child of a hundred manics" and had a foster father who was a bad man. She didn't know if her father was born the way he was, or if life was just being cruel to him. She faintly remembered her father never laying a hand on her, but one time and she never made him angry again. She loved her dad when she was younger, but after what happened to her mother, she feared him.

The young woman rolled over in bed, trying to shake the thought out. He was dead and he was never, ever coming back. Closing her eyes once more to darkness, she allowed sleep to enter her head, until she a loud, bloodcurdling scream rang in her ears, causing her jump and her eyes flew open with blood running cold. What the hell was that? She thought, trying to calm her breath. It sounded like a man or something. He's dead, Kat, she assured herself, slowly closing her eyes. It was a slip-second dream. For the rest of the night, there was no issues, but, however, the morning was different.

Katherine woke up like any other morning and headed to her bathroom with lazy eyes. She turned on the light and immediately she was woken up to a message on the mirror written in blood:

Revenge is mine!

No.

No. He was dead!

She destroyed him!

Katherine just stared at the words as horror, confusion, and fear was twisting through her. It was impossible that he was still around!