Author's Note: I am finally back to writing this story. This is a very long chapter. Please note that there may be some mistakes, so I apologize. Please let me know what you think, thanks :)

Chapter 6: Suspicions

The strong smell of coffee lingered in the kitchenette as Maggie sat at the kitchen table. It was nearing 8am and despite still feeling tired, she ignored the urge to go back to sleep and had managed to stay awake since waking up at 4am. The dream had in some strange way, had unsettled her. It was foolish for her to feel this way. She had experienced bizarre dreams and nightmares before since she was a young teenager. But they were always linked to her psychosis, and she only suffered them after she experienced her episodes. So, to dream of something as odd as some abandoned factory and that creepy burnt man had surprised her.

She lightly tapped the tip of her pen on the second page of her new dream journal and scanned the few paragraphs she had written down about her two dreams.

Monday 7th Feb.

Dream 1 The dream was strange, unnerving. I found myself in a large, industrialised factory. It was a power plant. There were countless dark metal passageways. The heat was unbearable. Rumbling machines and furnaces echoed all around me. Thundering in my ears. I was barely able to discern the corridors ahead of me. I felt a little disorientated at the start. But I managed to clear my mind. There was an inexplicable feeling of being watched. There was then screeching, the shrill sound of metal upon metal. I tried to distinguish who was making the nose, but when I approached the corridor there was no sign of anyone. But the feeling of being watched still lingered in my mind. It didn't take me long to notice the person who was stalking me in the corridor. Though, the darkness of the power plant made it difficult to see them. They seemed lean in stature, not that tall. It wasn't until I came across that mutilated remains of that girl in the furnace that I finally saw the full silhouette of the man from behind me. The girl was brutally mutilated – their hair was singed away from their skull, their eyes were missing, two gaping bloodied holes in their face that was marred with blood. Slashes were torn into her chest and breasts. The skin was mangled, shredded apart to show the innards of their body that was littered with maggots, worms. It felt like I was having a psychotic episode in the dream. But everything felt real. The heat from the flames, the smoke. The putrid smell of the corpse. As for the silhouette of the man, I could perceive the shape of a hat, which looked like a fedora and then there was something attached on their hand. A weird glove, with four long fingers. In the shape of knives. Before I could spin around to them, I woke up…

Dream 2 – I was in that power plant again. This time I came across some strange apparition of a little girl dressed in a white summer dress, with blond curls in a single ponytail. She was aged about six or seven years old. Their face was vacant, lifeless and they sang a strange nursery rhyme. One, Two, Freddy's coming for you…

That was the name of the guy I heard them two young girls talking about at the Diner. It was just a coincidence, that's all. I knew that the little girl, the apparition was trying to scare me. But I brushed it off. Then I heard it again. The screeching sound and it was from behind me. Then I heard footsteps, then a voice. Dark, gravelly, and low. It felt evil. They called me a little lady. Fuck, the way he leered it at me made my blood boil. I gave the fucker a few harsh retorts and the asshole laughed. Laughed at me! Ugh. I hate smug bastards like that. When he finally showed himself and stepped into the light, I finally saw him. Basic details from what I could remember – 5'10, lean frame as suspected. His skin was burnt, horribly scarred. Red and green stripes from his sweater adorned his slim frame. Why was that so familiar to me? The fedora hat that adorned his head was also recognisable. But how and why? Then his eyes, a vibrant icy blue…

But what really disturbed me was that glove on his right hand. Those were four long sharp pointed, knives, five or six inches in length. I knew I had to manage my anxiety and not let the uneasiness of the situation, of the dream go further out of control and thankfully I managed to regain control. Whatever this being was in front of me was surprised when I had gained control of his body, pushing him back before he could attack me. Just like Doc said, you never really lose your lucid dreaming skills. I nearly laughed when I heard him cursing behind me as I ran. I don't know why, but I felt excited. Invigorated! Though, when I ran into that barren corridor and locked myself inside, the dream took a dark turn. There were bodies everywhere, young children, teenagers. Marred and disfigured corpses were crushed and squashed into the corridor. Then the bodies came to life, reaching for me, scratching and tearing at my clothes. I fought as hard as I could, until I saw the same little girl from earlier. Her face was tarnished with four thick bloody scars. She gripped me in her little hands, her fingernails digging into my face. A swarm of insects gushed from her mouth onto me, and I just screamed, waking up in a frenzy. I should know better than to let something as stupid as a dream disturb me. But there are elements of the dream that still linger on my mind…

Maggie sighed and closed the book. Hopefully, that would be the last time she had any bizarre dreams. She would ask Doc for one of his mediation tapes and listen to it before bed tonight. Lifting the journal, she placed it beside the bed and then drank the rest of her coffee, before filling up her mug. Her gaze roamed over the files of the patients. The last few hours had been busy. Writing up her dreams and analysing the notes from the files. The information on the files were inadequate. There were about two to three pages in each file. The details were very inadequate. Nothing much to go on. All that she knew so far was the names, ages, family details of the kids, when they were admitted to Westin Hills. The other pages had brief details of their day when they their eating habits. Times they had allocated to visit their family in the visiting room. There were paragraphs that began to describe their sessions, either on one to one or a group therapy session. But several lines were blanked out. Just why would they do that? She noticed that the same stimulants being administered to the other kids on the ward on a regular basis, sometimes two to three times per day. That was something she would have to investigate a little further and establish if any of the kids were prescribed other medications that would cause them to become fatigued. That would be the only explanation for them to be regularly given such strong stimulants. Thinking back to the day before she had remembered seeing the forlorn, exhausted looks on their faces and their body language displayed tiredness. Some of them hadn't slept in days.

Her fingers curled tightly around her mug as she stood in the kitchen, appreciating the silence before it was broken by three soft knocks to her motel room door. She smiled and crossed the room, knowing it was Doc. She opened the door and flashed him a smile. "Morning"

He smiled back and entered the room. "Morning, did you sleep well?"

She shrugged her shoulders and walked into the kitchen, pouring him out a coffee. "It was okay"

"What time did you get up at?" he asked.

"About 4am. I couldn't sleep" she lied.

"Mmm" he mused thoughtfully and sipped his coffee. He could press her on the issue of her sleep but knew that her sleeping patterns could be erratic. His brown eyes flicked towards her files on the table beside the bed. They were neatly stacked on each other, with a pink sticky note pressed on the top file. Written in black pen was – Current patients. "Have you gone through the files already?"

Maggie nodded quickly. "Yeah. There wasn't much to go through. Most of the information in the files were blackened out"

"What?" Doc tossed her a confused look. "Blackened out? All of them?"

She walked over towards the files and flicked opened the first one that belonged to Tracy. "See?" she pointed at the second page. Lines and paragraphs were scored out in black marker. "Everyone is the same. All I know is their names, ages, where they live. And there are some details of when they were admitted. A little brief overview of their home life. There are a few pages about their days so far in the ward. There are lines in several paragraphs that are cancelled out, it is in relation to their therapy sessions. What was discussed during them. But what I found interesting and strange was this…" she placed down a few files on the table and opened them. Her finger pointed sharply at each page, directly at the list of amphetamines on the pages.

Modafinil, Armodafinil, Xyrem. Modafinil, Methylphenidate.

He rose an eyebrow in surprise. "Why would they administer so many stimulants to the kids?"

"That is what I want to know" Maggie sighed, "I would need to ask for the list of other medications they are on. I know that there have been some cases where anti-depressants can cause drowsiness. So, if some of the kids are on anti-depressants then that could be why they are being administered the stimulants. But I want to check if there are other conditions that the kids may have. Mood disorders or impulse control disorders could be a possibility, where they may need stimulants to control it. That's the only logical explanation I can see. I'll ask Dr Coleman for access to any other medical files they have"

Doc nodded in agreement. "Just don't force the issue Maggie"

"Me? Being forceful?" she laughed. "Never!"

He rolled his eyes and took her mug from her. "We're leaving in fifteen minutes"

"I'll be ready in five" Maggie briskly strolled to the opened wardrobe and pulled out a fresh of jeans, light blue short sleeved shirt, and her black boots. "Can we get some breakfast to take away on the way over?"

"Are you paying?" Doc teased.

"Yes, but only if you buy dinner tonight" she grinned.

"Chinese?"

"Sounds good!"

….

"Is everyone okay?" Neil asked as he stepped up beside Max and Paul. Both men turned to face him, the latter a little jaded and edgy.

"We nearly lost Brandon" Max whispered quietly. "Thankfully, Lee and Aaron managed to wake him up. But he received a few deep slash marks to his back and waist. He's in the treatment room getting his wounds stitched. We've given him 2 Armodafinil and some coffee. Have you received any news from the community?"

"Not yet. I have asked the General Hospital to fax the details over" Neil muttered. "I want to discuss more about lucid dreaming with Alan today. He said he would bring some of his books with him. Paul, I'd like you to be there, and we could ask for some copies of anything that we think could help. Though, I am wary that he may ask questions about the kids dreams"

"What about Dr Burroughs? Do you think she'll want to start chatting to the kids? She seemed very eager yesterday" Paul commented.

"I hope not. Especially not after what happened with Brandon" Neil slowed to a stop at his office. "Just give the kids another reminder to think before they answer any questions"

Max nodded curtly and strode onwards towards the patient rooms.

There was a ring of the elevator bell, catching Neil and Paul's attention. They spun around as Alan and Maggie strolled out of the lift, both carrying their cups of coffee and briefcases. Hung over Maggie's right shoulder was her backpack. They smiled brightly as they approached them. "Good morning" Doc smiled.

"Morning" Neil began then cleared his throat. "Dr Reynolds, would it be possible if we could have another discussion about your theories on lucid dreaming"

"Yes, of course. I have some of my books in the car with me. I'd like to settle in first and we could meet in half an hour?" he suggested.

"Sounds good. If we could meet in my office, say 10am?" Neil smiled.

Doc smiled and followed Maggie as she ventured down to their offices, ready to start the day. After leaving her jacket on the back of her chair and her bag and briefcase under her desk, Maggie made herself a quick cup of coffee and then took out a few files with her and left the office. Her stride was strong, fast as she eagerly looked into the offices as she passed, hoping to find Paul. As she turned into the next corridor, she saw him quietly chatting to a one of the clerical staff. She handed him a piece of paper that he swiftly read, his face turning a deathly white. Both seemed perturbed. He looked up at Maggie, then quickly excused himself from the woman.

"Hi, are you okay?" he asked, breaking into a thinly lipped smile as he glanced at the files in her hands. "Anything you need help with?"

"Yes, I would like to discuss the files. I read them all last night. It appears there seems to be quite a lot of stimulants that are being prescribed to the patients" Maggie glimpsed at the folders then back at him. Her eyes narrowed briefly, detecting a flicker of agitation flash across his face. "Are there any other files that would contain medications that they are on? I would like to examine any medications they are on as it could be linked to why they are receiving so many stimulants. There isn't much detail on the files"

He took a file from her and flicked it open, his eyes roaming over the pages. "All the information is in the file" The folder was closed and handed back to her. Maggie straightened up, head titling to the side sceptically. "So, everything in the files is accurate?"

Paul locked his eyes with hers and nodded. "Yes"

"Mmm" Maggie tightly pressed her lips together. Not persuaded by his answer. "It just seems strange. There is little information to go on"

He watched as she frustratedly opened the file again. His eyes scanned the page, reading the personal details of Spencer Lewis.

Name – Spencer Lewis

Date of birth – 15th April 1977

Address: 10 OAK DRIVE, Springwood.

Date of admittance – 31st January 1.23am.

Suicide attempt – lacerations on left and right wrists. Found by his father Mr Ethan Lewis in his bedroom.

Family details– Father Ethan Lewis, Mother Georgina Lewis. Father is successful businessman, owns several businesses in the town - Lewis Car Sales and several more located in nearby towns. Spencer is an only child. Had a run in with the local law authorities after being found with a small quantity of marijuana on his possession near the Springwood High school. Given caution as a result. No known medical issues. Has a strained relationship with his father, constant fights and has run away on a few occasions.

Maggie twisted the file around, allowing him to see the next page. She took a casting glance at him seeing him glimpsing at the page then back to her. She pointed at the paragraphs, particularly the marker scrawled through the lines of sentences. "I know I am new here. But I am a little concerned about the lack of information. Is there any reason why these sentences are blackened out? There are some details at the start that I can see relates to their therapy sessions, the times of the session and who was in attendance. But it doesn't give explain what was said or discussed"

Paul felt his face redden, a surge of apprehension sweeping through his mind. What could he say without putting her in danger? He shuffled lightly on his feet and thought fast. "I believe some of the files may have been photocopied from the original file and that the quality of the photocopying wasn't clear. There were also some errors on the notes that were taken during the sessions"

"Is there a digital copy? On a computer that I could access?"

"No, we only keep paper copies of the patient files" Paul lied.

Maggie again pursed her lips together and tightened her fingers around the brown file. He was lying. She knew it. He was avoiding eye contact with her. "Would it be possible if I could arrange to have access to the original files as soon as possible?"

He forced a smile and nodded, "Yes. Do you need anything else?"

It was her turn to fake a smile. "No, thank you"

Paul stood rigid, face etched with concern as she turned away and marched down the corridor. Exhaling long and hard he nervously unbuttoned the top button of his white shirt, feeling hot. What was he going to do now? He needed to speak to Neil. If Dr Burroughs was to continue to investigate or query the details in those files, then she would find out about Freddy and start to have dreams. There was only so many lies that they could fabricate to keep the town's horrible secret hidden. Would she ask for permission to study the other files? They couldn't deny her the right for access to those files as she would only demand answers and reveal her misgivings to her colleague Alan. Then he would become curious and insist on an explanation. Things were starting to become complicated.

The door to Maggie's office slammed hard in its hinges as she vehemently shut the door. She flinched at the loud bang; she had shut it a little too forcibly. But fuck it. She was furious. Paul was hiding something. But was Neil too? Where they all keeping something from her and Doc? She sneered and muttered softly to herself and thumped the files onto her desk as she slid into her chair. Her back arched backwards into the leather seat as she mused what to do now. She wanted to keep as much detail of her conversation with Paul on record, so perhaps noting it down with her other observations so far would help past some time. She snatched her notepad and flicked it opened to the next free page and began to write.

Dr Coleman states that there could some errors on the patients' files and that the blackened-out lines could be linked to poor photocopying from the original files.

She scoffed. "What a crock of shit"

But why would the sessions on all the files be redacted/ blackened out? Was it done on purpose? It would be the only plausible reason. A clerical error would be one or two lines. But these are several lines from numerous paragraphs. All of them were clearly marked out.

Maggie tossed down the pen and groaned aloud. "Fuck" Her mind began to meander as she thought back to the filing room. There were several rows of cabinets. Were the other files back to September 1993 the same? Could she obtain them? But would Paul willingly give them to her or make up some other bullshit excuse? She had to calm herself she knew that for sure. If she kept thinking and musing over her qualms she would be in a foul mood for the rest of the day. She reached down for her handbag and slid into one of the small zip compartments and pulled out a small red Swiss army knife. She could have a little look at those files without them finding out. She could easily pick the lock. A little smile curled at her lips. Yes, she would do that, but later when she had calmed herself down. If Alan found out though, he would be fucked off with her. But she would explain to him her reasons. She would make him understand. Gripping the army knife in her hand she slid it into her front jean pocket and left her office.

It was a little early in the day to start speaking to the kids on the ward, but she felt the urge to do so. Building a rapport with her patients was always something she set out to do when dealing with new kids at the Shelter. No matter how much bullshit they would give her. So, she knew that approaching the kids here in the same way would hopefully help her when the therapy sessions finally began. Her stride was quick as she strolled down towards the patients' rooms. She passed by Karen and Brandon, giving them a little smile as she went by. Both smiled back. Though Brandon seemed a little pained, grimacing slightly as he lightly touched his waist. Maggie slowed to a stop ready to turn back but saw over her shoulder both of them scurrying away in the direction of the canteen. She shook the little niggling feeling of worry away and continued down the corridor, peering into the first bedroom and saw Megan and Nicole sitting on one of the beds sipping on two can of jolt cola. Maggie raised her hand and lightly knocked the door. "Hi, can I come in?"

Megan and Nicole twisted on the bed. The latter nodding. "Yeah, of course"

"I just wanted to have a little chat" Maggie grinned and walked towards them. She saw the anxious gleam in their eyes. She quickly reassured. "Oh, it's not a therapy session or anything. It'll just be a normal chat. I like to get to know the kids under my care. We can chat about anything you want. School, guys you like. Favourite musical artists, movies"

The girls shared a bemused glance. Surprised at the new Doctor's suggestion. Ever since the first night they were on the ward, all Dr Gordon and Dr Coleman would talk about to them was their dreams, about Freddy and how they found out about that bastard. But to speak with a psychiatrist about normal things – boys that they had crushes on, school and their interests was uplifting, and it would be nice for a change.

"Yeah" Megan smiled and patted a space on the bed. "That would be good"

Fingers pressed and punched various red, green, blue, and yellow buttons of two controllers as Spencer and Carlos played a competitive game of Street Fighter II: The World Warrior on the Super Nintendo. They sat across from the TV screen on the coach in the main games room. Their eager, yet tired eyes darted wildly between the two avatars on the screen. Spencer cursed as his avatar – Ryu – was kicked hard by Carlos's character – Ken. His fingers thumped angrily on the red, then blue buttons and he smiled as his avatar retaliated by performing a few short, frantic punches. There was one thing about Spencer and that was his competitiveness when it came to computer games, he hated losing. It made him angry. His father would constantly shout at him whenever he was up playing his games late into the night. He felt that Spencer was wasting his time and his life. But his father had to understand that this was his life, he had no ambition to go into the family car business like his father had tried to drill into him since he was a child. Spencer's aim in life was to design video games and hopefully start his own brands of computer consoles. He loved computers, computer science was his favourite subject. He owned every game console that was on the market. It was a passion of his. He smiled and laughed as his character kicked Carlos's avatar to the ground. His friend groaned and slumped back onto the coach. "Damn it man! You're too good at this!"

"You need more practice, Carlos!" Lee shouted from across the room as he sat with Shaun. They had paused their game of poker to watch the duelling gamers. "I'll show you some tricks when I'm finished whooping Shaun's ass at poker!"

Shaun smirked behind his cards. He had two pair – two kings and three tens. There was no way that Lee could top that. He smugly placed down his cards and smiled.

Lee glimpsed at the cards then sighed, slamming his own cards down before chuckling. "Read 'em and weep!"

As his eyes studied the Lee's hand, Shaun's conceited smile faded. It was a full house – three nines (nine of hearts, nine of clubs and nine of diamonds) and then two queens. "What? No way man, you must be cheating!"

Lee laughed and shook his head. "I'm not, I swear. Just lucky, I guess?"

Shaun scowled and gathered the cards, placing them with the others and began to shuffle them. He lowered his voice as he muttered grimly. "Brandon was lucky that fucker didn't kill him. Thank God you and Aaron woke him up!"

Beside them on one of the other couches Tracy looked up from her novel, glancing at Lee and Shaun as they quietly chatted about Brandon. Her eyes darted over towards Spencer and Carlos as they began a new match on the console. The conversation between Lee and Shaun invaded her ears.

"Yeah. I heard he needed at least twenty stitches" Lee muttered dourly. "We heard him screaming when we were coming back from the vending machine with more coffee. I managed to wake him up with my lighter. I burned his arm"

Tracy turned her attention back to her book, becoming engrossed in the next few pages. She heard another figure enter the room and glimpsed up seeing Aaron cradling about eight cans of jolt cola in his arms. He gave two to Spencer and Carlos, then left two on the table for Shaun and Lee. As he crossed the room towards where she was sitting, she felt her legs stiffen as he sat down at her side. He placed three of the cans on the table and opened the last one, taking a long slug. There was at least half a foot between him and herself on the sofa, but despite the distance the feeling of dread tore through Tracy's body and mind. Everyone knew to give her space. Especially when it came to males being around her. Being near boys made her tremble with fear, with disgust. It was all because of her father. She gripped the novel tightly in her hands and strained to keep her shivers at bay. He had to move way. He had to. Please just move Aaron. Please!

She sensed the back of his hand draping on top of the back of the couch as he made himself comfortable. His fingertips gently brushed the back of her hair and she swallowed thickly, shuddering violently. Dark, traumatic memories from her past raced through her mind. The faint smell of alcohol drifted in the air. The rough coarse fingers of a man's hand at the back of her neck, caressing her shoulder length blond hair then it snaked down her back, along her waist towards her hips…

Tracy whimpered and hissed, jumping to her feet and threw the book at Aaron who jerked back in surprise. "Get away from me Aaron!"

"What? What did I do?!" he gasped, his lips opening in shock at her reaction.

She rushed from the room, her breathing erratic and short. Her head was bowed as ran.

"Tracy!"

Ignoring the voice behind her she looked up and saw Maggie approaching. "Tracy, are you okay?"

Tracy skidded to a half and protectively wrapped her arms around her shaking frame. She shrugged her shoulders and lowered her quivering face towards the ground. "I-I'm not. Why do people not listen to me?"

Maggie stood in front of her and began to raise under the girl's chin but ceased her action as the girl jerked back abruptly. "I'm sorry" she took a small step back, giving her more space.

The girl breathed heavily, gasping softly.

"Easy Tracy. Nice and deep breaths" Maggie whispered softly.

Shaun lingered behind them and cleared his throat, "Uh, is Tracy, okay?"

"I'm fine!" Tracy shot over her shoulder at him, a little too coldly.

Maggie side-stepped around Tracy and advanced towards the boy. "What happened?"

"I think Aaron came onto her"

"He invaded my personal space!" Tracy snapped and whirled around to them, glaring at Shaun. "You all know I hate that!"

He gave a sullen nod and threw a glance at Maggie who smiled reassuringly at the young man, "Just go back to the games room. I'll look after her. Okay?"

Maggie turned back to Tracy and frowned. Her face had lowered to the ground, her arms tightly wrapped around her shoulders as she fought back tears. She saw her take a deep breath and lift her blushing red face towards her. "Come with me to my office"

"I'm fine" Tracy shrugged.

"We don't have to talk. I just want you to sit with me" Maggie smiled warmly. "It'll only be for a little while"

She mumbled quietly and murmured, "Where's your office?"

"This way" Maggie walked past her and kept her distance from her as they strolled down to the office. "Would you like something to drink? Some water?"

"Coffee please" Tracy walked through the door as it was opened for her. The door was quickly closed, and Maggie gestured with a wave of her hand for the girl to sit on the sofa as she began to prepare their coffees.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Maggie scooped two spoonsful of coffee granules into two mugs. She poured the hot water from the flask into the mugs, stirring the coffee slowly.

"Aaron was being an asshole" Tracy absently played with the rim of her t-shirt. "I just hate guys being around me"

Maggie handed her the mug and gave a thoughtful nod. "Okay"

Tracy clasped her mug and glared at her, stunned that this Doctor wasn't pressing her on the issue. Not challenging her for an explanation, "Um, are you not going to ask me why?"

Maggie settled into her seat at her desk and smiled. "Would you give me an answer?"

"Probably not" Tracy took a sip of her coffee. "I mean, it's just my own problem you know?"

"It doesn't have to be your problem" Maggie held her gaze, seeing the weariness that flaunted in her blue eyes. She was doubtful. "Tracy, you can tell me in your own time. It doesn't have to be now. It can be tomorrow, the next day. Just remember you can come to my office at any time"

Tracy laughed, stunned yet again. "You're different"

"Mmm, how so?" Maggie perked up, eager to hear her reply. She always liked to hear what her patients thought of her therapy techniques, what they liked or didn't like in her therapy sessions with them or hoe they viewed her as a therapist.

"I've been to a counsellor before in school. It was last year. They were always pushy, constantly asking me question and after question. Trying to get me to talk. To open up about what's been happening in my life. But uh, it's hard, you know?" Tracy's eyes darted anxiously about the room, not making much eye contact with Maggie. She hated talking to therapists. But for some reason she felt a little at ease around Maggie. "My family life the last three years has been tough. I don't like talking about it. But you seem a little more laid back. Not as assertive?"

"I understand" Maggie reached to her right and shuffled through the files on her desk, then pulled out Tracy's file. "I had a look through your file last night. There are some details about your parents. Whenever I arrange the one-to-one sessions with you all, I would like to talk about your parents. If you feel comfortable. I assume you are nervous around boys. Is that why you like your personal space? Is there anything you want to talk about now?"

Tracy raised the rim of the mug to her lips and shook her head, before taking a long drink.

Maggie quickly nodded and placed her file back on top of the others. She would discuss her deliberations with Doc later when they met for lunch. It was concerning her the various mannerisms that Tracy was displaying around the boys. She had briefly seen her in the corridors yesterday evening and how she would shy away or balk away if a guy brushed by her or if a male orderly approached her. Though, from what she remembered it appeared that the boy Shaun had attempted to start up a few conversations with her. But each time Tracy would quickly cut their tête-à-tête short and leave. Was she just an introvert when it came to boys or was there an underlying issue?

"Have you read my whole file?"

Maggie was broken out of her thoughts by Tracy's question. "Well, I have read what there is to read. You can open it and see for yourself"

The young girl leaned forward and took the file, placing it on the sofa and eagerly turned the pages.

"As you can see, some of your notes are blacked out. It may be to do with your first therapy session you after you were admitted here. Dr Coleman states that it may be because of a clerical error" Maggie entwined her hands together on the desk, shaking her head in distrust. "I don't believe that is true"

Tracy nervously chugged down her coffee. The next question caught her by surprise.

"Do you know Shaun? He seemed a little concerned for you"

She blushed and shrugged, rolling her eyes. "He's in my year in school. We are in the same English and History class. He's okay. I mean, I'm not interested in him. I don't like dating. I have other problems to deal with" Mainly avoiding sleep at all costs and evading that fucker, Freddy. Every time she slept; the monster was bringing up her past. The death of her mother, the way her father had treated her after her mother's death. A jolt of fear shuddered through her body at the thought of Krueger appearing as her father the night he had tried to kill her. Even though Dr Gordon had warned them not to tell the new doctors about their dreams, a part of her wanted to. What was the point in keeping the truth from them? Weren't they meant to be here to help them? "I understand that your colleague…sorry uh, what's his name?"

"Doc" Maggie grinned, "You can call him Doc"

Tracy smiled, liking that name. "Doc, he deals with dream therapy, isn't that, right? And lucid dreaming? That's what we've been told"

"He's very experienced in the field of dream therapy. He has taught me a few things" Maggie looked over at the girl with a contemplative gaze. "Are you having any dreams? Nightmares?"

She felt her back harden, her body going into shock at the question. "Uh, no, I'm just curious about what you both will be doing here"

Maggie noticed the uneasiness in her voice, "Okay. You should stop by Doc's office. He'll be more than happy to talk to you about his theories on dreams and we could teach you to hone any dream skills you may have"

"Dream skills?"

"Doc strongly believes that everyone has a dream skill or a power that they can use in their dream to control it"

Tracy perked up at this and smirked. "Really? I never knew that" Maybe Dr Gordon was right; they could help them against Freddy. She rose to her feet and left the empty mug on the desk, "Thank you for the coffee. And for the chat"

Neil and Paul sat engrossed as they listened as Doc explained some definitions of the diverse types of dreams that Dutch author and Psychiatrist Frederick Van Eeden had created. Paul glanced down at his notebook as he read the several types of dreams once again.

Initial dreams

Pathological dreams

Ordinary dreams

Vivid dreams

Demoniacal dreams

General dream-sensations

Lucid dreams

Doc waited until Paul finished writing down some more notes. "I understand Neil that you are interested in my work on lucid dreaming"

Neil nodded quickly. "Yes, I am"

"From my studies. Paul Tholey was a German Gestalt psychologist, and a professor of psychology and sports science at the University of Frankfurt and the Technical University of Braunschweig. He proposed to have a lucid dream there are several conditions that the dreamer must fulfil. They are these" he handed out a small sheet of paper that had several indicators.

Awareness of the dream state (orientation)
Awareness of the capacity to make decisions
Awareness of memory functions
Awareness of self
Awareness of the dream environment
Awareness of the meaning of the dream
Awareness of concentration and focus (the subjective clarity of that state)

Paul noted these down and listened as Doc continued. "There is another most recent study by Deirdre Barret that examined whether lucid dreams contained four corollaries of lucidity. They are where the dreamer is aware they are dreaming. They are aware actions in the dream will not carry over after waking. That physical laws need not apply in the dream. And the dreamer has a clear memory of the waking world"

After finishing writing Paul exchanged a quick glance with Neil. From what they had discussed with the kids over the last few years, they never knew that they were dreaming until it was too late. And the actions that had happened in their dreams really did carry over into the waking world. Particularly in relation to the injuries they received and their fatal wounds. Krueger was applying physical laws in the dream; he was blurring the lines of dreams and reality. Merging them into one.

"You said that you would use meditation tapes to help with lucid dreaming?" Neil asked.

"Yes. But if we were to start training the kids to control their dreams. I would like to have discussions with them about their dreams. I would need them to keep a detailed journal of their dreams. Then we work from there" Doc proposed and leaned back on the couch.

Neil nodded slowly. "I will discuss this with the kids. Would it be possible if we can take more notes form the books you have with you?"

"Yes" Doc bent forward and lifted the three books from the floor.

Interpretation of Dreams by Sigmund Freud. Lucid Dreaming- For Beginners. Myths and Theories on Dreams.

"Would you have any meditation tapes with you? I could distribute them out to the kids in the next day or so" Neil took the books from him and placed them on the desk.

Doc frowned, a little bemused why they would be rushing into things so fast. "Yes, I can get some of them copied. But I would like to speak to the patients first about their sleeping patterns and dreams. I can get Maggie to help me" he shifted forward in his seat and eyed them both sternly. "I have to be honest; it may take days perhaps weeks for someone to be fully aware of their dreams and be able to control it"

Neil felt deflated by this admission. He looked over to Paul who shared the same emotion at him, devastation. Why could they not get a break? This town was doomed. But they had to try. Nancy would have wanted him to fight. "We understand. Thank you for going through this with us"

"Of course," Doc rose to his feet. "I'm just going to take an early lunch"

Neil nodded quietly and shared one last disturbed look with Paul as Doc left his office.

Maggie looked up from her notepad as Doc entered the office. In his hand was a tray holding two plates of chicken salad. He smiled at her. "I brought you lunch"

She glanced briskly at the clock on the wall and sighed. It was 12.30pm. "Thank you. How has your morning been?"

He placed her plate in front of her and she keenly began to get stuck in.

"I gave Neil and Paul a brief overview on dreams and the theories of lucid dreaming. Neil is eager to start training with the kids"

She stabbed her fork into a piece of chicken and vigorously shook her head. Alarmed at Neil's suggestion. "I don't understand some people, I really don't! We haven't even had therapy sessions with the kids. He can't expect the kids to control their dreams if we don't know what kind of dreams they are having if we can't talk to them in a therapy session or even have proper access to information about them" she chewed her food quicky and waved the fork back and forth in the air, "I honestly think they don't sleep. Never mind about the number of stimulants they are being given; did you not notice the amount of caffeine drinks in their rooms yesterday? And even today all I saw was them drinking coffee or energy drinks! Something doesn't add up!"

"Did you ask Dr Coleman about the files?" Doc asked.

"Yes. He gave me some bullshit answer about a clerical error and a photocopying mishap!" she scoffed loudly. "Nothing but bullshit"

"Really? That is what he said?" Doc rose an eyebrow, pausing midway through his lunch.

"Yep" she nodded curtly. Her brown eyes held a vacuous gleam. Like she was planning something. "I have my suspicions that they aren't telling us something"

"Maggie don't do anything foolish that could get you into trouble" Doc warned her.

She smirked playfully. "Now, would I do that?"

His eyes narrowed in annoyance as he glared at her.

Her smirk disappeared and she threw her hands up in defence. "Okay, okay!"

He changed the subject. "How has your morning been?"

"Good. just chatting to the kids. Getting to know about their hobbies, interests. How they are in school. Breaking the ice. They're good kids. Just a little wary, very agitated too" she took one last scoop of her salad and pushed the plate to the side. "I brought Tracy to my office for a little chat. I noticed her being a reserved and anxious around the boys and even some of the male staff. There was a commotion from the games room, and I saw her running from it. Shaun had mentioned to me after I had a talk with her that Aaron had sat beside her and put her arm around the back of the couch. He may have touched her hair or neck and it had startled her"

Doc clasped his hands together, reflecting on this piece of information.

"I think or I guess she may have reservations or anxiety being around boys"

"What about her family life? Are there any details in her file?"

Maggie nodded in concurrence. "Yes. Her mother died of lung cancer when Tracy was thirteen. Her father then died last year due to alcohol abuse. She has lived with her aunt since her father's death. No other relatives, no siblings. I think she may have had a negative experience with a boy in her school or it could be-"

"Maggie, you shouldn't make assumptions. You would need to have further discussions with her" Doc cut in, advising her.

"I know" she briskly nodded. He was right. On the odd occasion she would jump to conclusions in her evaluation or assessment of a teenager's problems. In a way she was always overzealous in helping the kids. "I understand. So, what are you plans for the afternoon?"

"May I have a look at the files?" he glanced at them on her desk.

She lifted her right hand and waved her open palm at them. "Fire away. Though you will be done in no time. I'm just going to write up a few more things from my discussions with the kids. Just a basic overview of their personalities. I might try and speak to Dr Coleman again"

"Do you like him?"

Her eyers narrowed in disbelief and she laughed. "What?"

"Do you like him? He's nice and very handsome" Doc broke into a teasing smile.

Maggie gasped and her voice deepened slightly. "Don't you dare Alan" she very rarely called him by his birth name. it was only when she was annoyed with him or didn't like what he would say to her. Just like this very minute. "You are like Diane! Trying to play cupid! Mr Match Maker. It isn't going to work!" she admonished him, wagging a finger at him.

"But you need to enjoy yourself too Maggie. You deserve to meet someone. You did say that you could meet the man of your dreams here. It could be him" his smile grew wider.

"Just stop it!" Maggie snatched the fork and raised it, taunting him with a teasing smirk. "Or I will stab you with my fork!"

He chuckled and lifted her plate, leaving the room with another chuckle.

It was nearing 4.30pm when Maggie quietly made her way down towards the filing room. She had noticed that Neil and Paul had left Westin Hills early, about 4pm both of them looking exhausted. In dire need of a good night's sleep. She had seen Max arriving back on duty just shortly after, though he didn't look to be in much better shape either. Her backpack was hung over her right shoulder as she hurriedly advanced towards the room. Her hands shook with anticipation as she grabbed the handle, praying that it was unlocked. Casting a quick glance over her shoulder she twisted the handle and smirked as the door creaked open. Slipping into the room, she eased the door shut behind her and flicked on light. Her eyes fell on the cabinet that Paul had opened for her the day before. Maggie wasn't sure how many files to take with her. But she knew that she wanted to compare the files she had with the previous patients who had died. And even securitize the files where the kids had been discharged from the hospital, but from what Paul had said they were in another room. Unless he was lying about that too. From what she remembered Paul had mentioned that there were forty-three deaths since September. Where they in this cabinet? Or the next row? He also stated that the files in his drawer only went back to December. Her eyes roamed over the rows of cabinets, and she sighed. Fuck it, she was going to take as many files as she could fit into her bag and not just from the first drawer.

She marched over towards the cabinet, crouching quickly to unzip her bag. Her right hand slid into her front jean pocket and pulled out the shiny red Swiss army knife. Her index finger ran over the top of the knife and long the side, feeling for the grooved of the small tweezers and pinched the edge with her nails and with a yank pulled it out. She rose to her feet and carefully placed the tip of the metal into the small keyhole. Her eyes narrowed sternly as she concentrated, twisting, and turning the tweezers to a ninety-degree angle to the left. There was a groan, the sound of metal grating and scraping against metal. Then she did it again, then again. Twisting and yanking it a few more times. Then there was a click, and she heard the lock inside the drawer screech as the cabinet became unlocked.

The drawer emitted a loan metallic screech as she pulled the drawer opened and she froze, peering over her shoulder at the doorway. Half expecting a member of staff to come rushing in. But it remained eerily calm outside the room. She inhaled sharply and turned back towards the cabinet and peered inside. There was no time to look through them and decide what file to take with her. There was too many. Taking the initiative her hands dove in and grabbed a large bundle of files and pulled them out, shoving them into the backpack. Her hands patted inside the bag, detecting there was room for more. Her heart thundered against her chest as she reached in for another thick bundle of files and placed them inside her bag. There seemed to be at least a few dozen. More than enough to keep her busy for this evening.

Her hands gently pushed the drawer closed and as the tip of the tweezers were still lodged in the lock, she slowly twisted and turned the locking mechanism back into place and she heard another click as it locked. Before leaving she gave the handle of the drawer a slight tug and satisfied that it was locked, she left the room with her backpack slung over her shoulders.

Maggie had quicky discarded her half-eaten plate of Chinese in the kitchen sink. She was too preoccupied by wanting to study the files she had to eat. Doc had discerned that she was a little too exasperated to leave Westin Hills. But she quickly explained that it was a long day and she wanted back to the motel to relax and had even asked for a borrow of one of his meditation tapes.

She shrugged off her blue shirt and grabbed a mustard and black chequered shirt to wear over her tank top. It felt more comfortable on her. Her pace was frantic as she bent down to unzip her bag, pulling out the files and then placed at least twelve files on the kitchen table, opening them to the first page. Her back arched forward as she leaned over as her brown eyes roamed over them slowly. Just like the first eleven files of the kids on the ward, these files had the same details.

Name, age, address, date the teenager was admitted to the hospital. Brief description of their suicide attempt. Overview of their family life. She flipped over to the next page on each file and her lips tugged down sharply into a scowl of confusion. All these files were the exact same. A few sentences of the start of a therapy session were written down, then lines and lines of the rest of the paragraphs were scored out in black marker. She shook her head and glanced back at the first page, then gasped. Why did she not notice it? Below at the bottom of the first page was two specific lines.

Date of Death

Cause of Death.

Her back straightened as she turned back to the bed where the other files were stacked on the mattress and she impatiently laid them on the bed, spreading them out. Just like before each file was in the same layout as the other folders. There were insignificant details about their therapy sessions or what was discussed between the patients and the doctors. Not one of them was discharged. Every kid in these files were dead. She quick counted the files on the bed and on the kitchen table and shivered in apprehension. There were thirty-four case files. Thirty-four deaths. Her eyes flew towards her bag. There were still files left inside. "Shit" she whispered.

It was a little time later when Maggie had finally finished laying out each of the files. She used whatever space she could find. The desk at the window and the kitchen counter. In total there was sixty-nine files. Sixty-nine deaths of teenagers. Their ages ranged from thirteen to nineteen. The common occurrence was that they were admitted and within a few days, no more than a week they had died. But the explanations or causes of their deaths were strange.

She looked down at her notebook and the list of ways that the teenagers had been found dead.

Strangulation. Stab wounds. Third degree burns. Slit throats. Broken ribs. Broken necks.

Maggie felt her shoulders slump forward, a shiver of distress shot through her spine. She didn't like this. Her eyes darted to the few lines she had noted above. Yet again, the kids were administered strong stimulants daily and sometimes two to three times per day. There were no other medications that they were on. No other mental health conditions. Her fingers curved tightly under the page, and she turned back a few pages to the notes she took yesterday. Paul Coleman had clearly said to her that there were forty-three deaths since the 13th of September. But from what she had read in these files, there was sixty-nine deaths since the 17th of December 1993. Sometimes two deaths per night. Far more deaths than indicated and in a shorter space of time. She slapped her notebook shut and began to pace the room, muttering and cursing to herself. "Fuckers. Are they lying to us? But why?"

She placed her book on the bed and grabbed the first file she was close to and skimmed over the details.

Name: Jack Robertson.

Date of Birth: 28th August 1977. 16 years old.

Address: 108 Sycamore Drive

Admitted to ward: 22nd December 1993, 11:34pm.

Suicide Attempt: Laceration on right wrist. Found by his parents in the bathroom.

Family details: Father Kevin, Mother Sarah. Jack had a younger sister who passed away in 1991, aged 12 years old – cause of death: drowned in the bath. Good grades in school. Interested in sports, football, and baseball. No known health or mental issues.

Date of death: 25th December 1993 2.15am

Cause of Death: Punctured heart. Massive internal bleeding throughout several major organs.

Maggie slumped despondently on the bed, bewildered and she had to admit slightly scared. All the deaths or supposed suicides seemed to be violent deaths or more than likely they were assaulted. She shuddered violently and lowered her eyes to the next page. An idea flashed into her mind, and she slipped three blue treasury tags that were entangled in the holes of the page away, then lifted the page from the folder. She rushed over towards the light switch and flicked on the light. The lightbulb shone down on her as she raised the page to the hazy glow from the bulb. Beneath the black marker she could see letters from the sentences, though some of them were hard to discern due to the fast and incoherent scribbling. She titled the page to the right, then the left and then paused holding the paper still as her eyes narrowed. Her lips parted as she silently whispered to herself.

"Jack Robertson first heard of…" she scowled and tipped the page a few inches to the left. The next word was indistinguishable. The first letter looked like an 'F. But God knows what the rest was. Whoever wrote this was in a hurry.

She allowed her eyes to roam over the next paragraph and she again tipped the page to another angle, and she smirked, making out a few words on the first line of the new paragraph. "He began to receive bruises and scratches after the fourth…" her voice faltered off and she scowled. "Fourth what?"

The page was slanted slightly to the right, and she took a half step backwards, the gleam of the light revealing a few curves and lines of a word. Three letters. She squinted and mouthed silently.

D…r…e…

Her eyes widened in surprise as she whispered. "Dream? He began to receive bruises and scratches after the fourth dream?"

Beads of sweat began to form on the palms of her hands as he grew uneasy. Then she read on. The page was bent forward, the bottom of the page titled to the side as she murmured out the next line she could distinguish. "Jack was found screaming in his bedroom. Max and Kenneth were unable to wake him up…"

She gasped and the page fluttered from her hands to the floor, like a leaf falling from the branch of a tree. Were they intentionally trying to keep the kids awake because of their dreams? That could be the reason for the copious number of stimulants being given out daily. But they seem to indicate that the dreams were affecting the kids in a harmful way.

Maggie swallowed hard and bent to pick up the page. She shakily placed the page back into Jack's folder, tying the treasury tags through the small holes at the side of the paper. She had to write this down. When the time was right, she was going to share everything with Doc and then they were confronting Dr Gordon and Dr Coleman. She tossed the file back on the bed and gathered her notebook and slid her pen from her back left pocket and on the next free page noted down a few more comments.

Mention of dreams.

Injuries originating from a dream?

Mention of dreams? Or a dream? Are the nightmares the kids are experiencing so violent and out of control that they are hurting themselves when they are asleep?

She groaned, becoming frustrated by the lack of answers to her questions. Maybe it was a mistake coming to Springwood. It didn't take long for her to gather the files and stacked them into two bundles, one that consisted of the girls and one that consisted of the boys that had died. On the top of the bundle of folders that were the girls she placed a bright pink sticky note and wrote in block letters. DECEASED – 42 GIRLS. Then on the other bundle of files that consisted of the names of the boys there was a blue sticky note – DECEASED – 37 BOYS.

She lightly patted them with her hands, feeling aggrieved for so many deaths. They had their whole lives ahead of them, only for it to be taken away from them. Her hand whipped out towards the light switch as she passed it and the ceiling light flicked off leaving the only light was the lampshade on the small drawers to the left of her bed. She grabbed a small cassette tape that had a white label that read. – Meditation Tape 4 – Nature Sounds.

Next to the lampshade was a small black tape recorder and she pressed the eject button and the small thin cassette compartment popped open. The thin cassette was slid into the compartment and with a quick flick of her fingers, it was closed, and she pushed the play button. A light whirring rotated inside the machine and then a faint dripping of water. It increased in crescendo until it merged into the soft, soothing sound of waves crashing onto a shore. Maggie plopped down on the bed and crossed her legs, her black boots wiggling back and forth as she got comfortable against the wooden headboard. She grabbed two of the plump pillows and shoved them behind her back and snuggled against them. Her left hand snatched her notebook once again and she scanned the deliberations on the pages. The crashing of the waves from her tape invaded her mind, sending a surge of serenity throughout her body as she began to relax and soon the sound of birds chirping in the distance erupted from the tape. Her brown eyes fluttered slowly as they lost their focus on the sentence…Injuries originating from a dream?

Her lips curled down into a frown, and she felt her eyes flicker shut. There was a sudden change in the pitch of the birds and their chirping distorted into a screech. Like metal upon metal…

Maggie's eyes flew opened and she swirled around, discerning her new surroundings. Her lean frame stood in the middle of another dark, barren corridor. She huffed and crossed her arms against her chest, holding back a scream of frustration. "Damn it. Not again!"

The dimly lit corridor ahead of her gave way at the end to an intersection of other various corridors. There were three. One to the left, the other to the right straight ahead. Leading into a blankness of darkness. She threw a prudent glance over her shoulder seeing a thick, steel wall. A dead end. A faint screech in the distance made her jerk back. The last few hours reading those files had made her tense. And now that she was dreaming of this stupid power plant again was making her fucking furious. But she had to regain control of her emotions. Calm down. Focus. Concentrate. Remember. This is your dream, Maggie; this is your dream.

She took a pacifying deep breath and exhaled slowly, before marching forward. Although, a little more slowly than her usual strong, powerful strides. If that asshole was about again, she had to be on her toes.

With every minute she was in this place, Maggie could feel the temperature rising. The heat from the pipes and the flames in the furnaces scorched the air around her. Making more beads of sweat to form on her scalding skin. It felt like she was in hell. Her gaze swooped to the right as she passed by an adjacent corridor. Thick brick walls stretched along the walls to either side until they merged into solid, thick metal and then curved around towards the right into another passageway. There were three furnaces in full working order, the red and orange flames inside shedding a fiery glow over the grated floor. She took a small step forward, titling her head to the side as she heard a low masculine moan of pain. It came directly from around the curve of the wall. Shifting to her left she hunched down lightly and gasped as a figure began to crawl into view. Their face was pressed against the ground as they slithered forward. The fingers on their shaking hands curled around the holes in the grating as they pulled themselves forward and with a gasp, they lifted her mutilated face from the floor.

Maggie took a quick step back, mouth dropping open in surprise. What was going on? Why would she be dreaming of one of her patients? She knew that face. She had only met him briefly. It was Brandon. His black hair was soaked with thick red liquid. A nasty cut was visible below the edge of his hairline, along the top of his temple. His skin around his cheeks were meshed, slashed apart. There were four lines of blood that curved around his cheeks and down his chin that stopped at the top of his neck. Blood began to spill around the ground, dripping and gushing from the wounds. His right hand stretched outwards, fingers reaching for her as he choked out his two words. "Help me…"

Her gaze was torn from his face as a figure stepped over his body. There was a flash of steel, four blades came into view as a scarred hand gripped the boy's hair and yanked his head back. She froze. Her legs turning to lead as she stared, wide-eyed as the apparition from her nightmare from last night crouched over the boy and with a vile grin, he sliced two of his blades along Brandon's jugular. A spurt of blood jetted from the torn flesh and the man rose to his feet, his cold gaze diverting towards her.

Maggie was jolted out of her trance as she saw him mockingly raised his bladed glove and waved his bloodied talons at her in a demented way of saying 'hello.'

She spun on her heel and sprinted down to her left. It had to be an episode she was experiencing in her dream. Throughout the years she had always had vivid, disturbed visions and hallucinations because of her psychosis. But she would endure them when she was awake. The only rational explanation that this, all of this was a side-effect of her new medication she was on. There were elements from the last few days were playing on her mind. Meeting the new kids being one of them. But why was she dreaming of that guy? It didn't make any sense!

She rounded into the next corridor. Passing by various boilers, furnaces. Broken temperature valves, rusty generators that rattled and chugged loudly. She ran by various rooms that were old, abandoned control rooms that had various old, decrepit computer stations. She took a nervous glance over her shoulder, there was no sign of him. But she could hear his footsteps. He was following her. But the fucker was taking his time. She sprinted into the next corridor to her right and came to an abrupt halt. To her left slumped against a wall was a parsley clothed girl. Her age was about twelve years old with black cropped hair. Her lifeless green eyes stared up at the ceiling. The thin white nightdress that adorned her body was ripped and torn around her thighs and chest. Thick red hand marks marred her neck that was twisted at a disturbing angle. Like her neck was snapped in two. Her legs were disturbingly spread apart. Maggie took a few prudent steps closer to the body and crouched down beside her. Was this another vision she was seeing? God, were her tablets not working? She allowed her brown orbs to scanned along the girls' legs up to her thighs. The flesh around her vaginal area was marred with bruises and four claw marks. Hand marks were also pressed hard into her flesh. Maggie rose to her feet, swallowing a mouthful of bile as her eyes broadened in aversion. There was a thin trail of blood from the girl's entrance. "My god"

Maggie staggered back then jumped, letting out a little cry of surprise as a screech split through the air. Rising over the metallic rumblings and vociferous noises of the power plant.

Freddy's deep, hoarse voice reverberated from all around. "One, two, I'm coming for you…"

She swirled around, hands tightening into fists as anger coursed through her. So, if this spectre that was invading her dreams wanted to play some warped game with her. Then it was in for a surprise. It was time to turn the tables on whatever it was.

Freddy sighed in pleasure as he consumed Brandon's soul. The little fuck wasn't as lucky as last night. It was fitting for this new little Doctor to witness him slitting the little pig's throat. But from what he could discern, she foolishly believed that everything that she was seeing in her dream was a mirage. Oh, the bitch was in for a surprise when she went to Westin Hills tomorrow to find out the good news. He grinned and predatorily walked into the next corridor. His grin faded. There was no sign of her. But he knew that she was close. The sound of flames crackling and popping echoed around him as he passed by the furnaces. There was another corridor to the right a few feet down and he approached it, blades twitching and slinking at his side. Eager for more flesh to cut and gut into. His blue eyes narrowed in distaste. Still no sign of her. He closed his eyes and sniffed the air. There was an indistinct smell of vanilla that lingered in the air. He could smell her. But he couldn't sense her position. Opening his eyes, Freddy turned around slowly. His gaze scouring every inch of the corridors. Every slim narrow opening between the boilers and furnaces. There was still nothing. "Come out, come out wherever you are!" he sang gruffly.

Freddy snarled softly. Becoming aggravated. Had she woken up? No. He could feel her essence in the dream. She was still sleeping. But her exact location was being shielded. But by whom? Was she purposefully keeping herself hidden from him? Fucking whore. Her abilities were greater than he anticipated.

"Hey, asshole!"

Freddy's head snapped up towards the ceiling his eyes widening in shock.

Maggie appeared from thin air. Her hands and feet were pressed against the thick rusty ceiling, suspended on the metal. Her lips curled into a vicious grin, and she swung her right boot hard against his face, connecting with his chin. The impact threw him backwards onto his back, his hat toppling from his scarred head. Maggie detached her hands from the metal and swung down onto her feet, and quickly mounted him. Straddling his hips. Her right hand snapped out to the right, fingers wiggling and then the sound of metal creaking and breaking apart echoed from an old derelict furnace. A thick metal pipe rattled and bent, breaking away and flew into her hand. She sneered and twisted her right arm as her left hand wrapped around the top of the pipe. She fiercely drove the tip of the broken pipe towards his chest, her eyes gleaming with rage. As the tip of the pipe soared towards his chest it froze in mid-air. She hissed, glaring at the pipe as it stopped barely an inch from his red and green grimy sweater. Maggie grunted, straining against the invisible force that was holding the pipe in place.

Freddy chuckled and broke out into a perverse grin. He glanced at her slim, athletic frame that was pressed firmly against his thighs. "Oh, the little doctor likes it on top!"

Maggie ground her teeth together and shuddered in disgust as he crudely thrust his clothed cock against her inner thighs. The asshole was growing a hard on. She leered back at him, her mouth parting as she whispered in rage. "Motherfucker"

Freddy cackled. Amused by her retort. He eyed her face, seeing the fiery rage that burned inside them. She was irate. He smirked, "Angry? Huh?"

Maggie felt her knuckles turn white and she pressed her entire body weight on the pipe. Trying to force it into his chest. To impale the bastard. But it was hopeless. Both her arms were immobile. She inhaled and began to study his face, looking closely at his eyes. Icy blue eyes littered with flickers of blood-vessels in the sclera. The colour of his iris was luring her in. Making her sense something from years ago. She blinked wildly and glanced at the grimy, tattered sweater. Again, the colours of red and green jumped out at her. God, where did she see those colours? She shook her thoughts away. This dream was confusing her.

Freddy too took this opportunity to study her. He raised his head from the metal floor and his eyes roved over her face, along her jawline line and along her cheeks. They landed on her eyes, and he felt his lips twitch, uncertainty rushing through him. Where had he seen those dark chocolate brown eyes before? His eyes roamed over her cheeks again, down to her chin and then her soft pink lips. The shape of that jaw reminded himself of himself when he was alive. Then the sharp, strong cheeks where like someone else he had once known. Someone from his past when he was alive. Was it…? He quickly pushed those sporadic thoughts to the side. It was a fucking coincidence. But why couldn't he determine her name? Everything in her mind was blocked from him. It was like her subconscious unreadable. This had never happened to him. He glimpsed quickly at her hands seeing them twist and tighten their grip on the pipe. The bitch was trying to push the pipe down again. "What's wrong bitch? Can't move?" he raised his head further from the ground and smiled fiendishly, "You see I'm in control here. Not you!"

Maggie panted. Her lips trembling as her anger swelled through her veins. This fucker was grating on her nerves. She felt his right hand clamped around her right wrist. His scarred, blistered fingers dug into her skin and with a light tug he yanked her hands to the right. Moving the tip of the pipe a few inches away from his chest. Her lips coiled upwards into a leer and with a new lease of energy she jolted the pipe back to the left. Directly above his heart.

Freddy titled his head to the side. Surprised that she had managed to regain control again. His jagged, rotten teeth were revealed in a sickening smile, and he elevated his head further from the ground, closing the gap with throat. His horrid, blistered tongue slithered out of his mouth as he wiggled the appendage at her, flickering it wildly in a grotesque manner. Knowing too well that it would deflect her concentration. Her eyes darted towards his face as he languidly trailed his blistered tongue along the left side of her throat, and he moaned loudly. She groaned in revulsion at the coat of saliva that now coated her flesh. How dare this fucker do that to her?

Flashing her a fiendish grin Freddy pulled his head back and with another firm yank, he wrenched her hand to the right a few more inches. Her concentration was starting to wane. Good. He finally raised his claw that was laying at this side. The blades slinked in the air as he spread them wide and he saw her flinch, her head jerking to the right abruptly at the sudden sound. He saw her crane her head to the left slightly, eyes studying his weapon. He teasingly wriggled each blade, the tip of the blade slicing through the air and her head jolted again to the right. He chortled quietly at the increasing sense of apprehension that radiated from her. This was what he wanted. He skimmed the side of his blades along her hair. Her eyes constricted in ire. Hating the way, he was touching her with those blades. Like a twisted form of affection. She cursed softly. The word inaudible to him. He grinned at her and trailed the blades along the left side of her body. It roamed over her checked shirt and to the waist where it lightly tapped along the band of her jeans before he swooped his blades around the curve of her jean clad ass. That was when her concentration was shattered, breaking apart as anger and disgust rocketed through her mind. Freddy threw her a triumphant grin and with a violent jerk he tossed her off him.

Maggie cried out as she was propelled to the right. Her head smashed into the metal wall, disorientating her and she heard the clatter of metal as the pipe fell from her hands. She whipped her head up and dove forward, rolling into a front tumble and with a thrust of her feet on the ground she pushed herself to her feet. She immediately sensed him behind her and she raised her right elbow to shoulder height. She pivoted on her right foot and her hips quickly rotated, creating fast momentum as she swung around and thrust the tip of her elbow into his face. Connecting with his chin hard.

Freddy cursed and staggered back, touching his chin with a sneer. He wasn't expecting this. It was bad enough for this bitch to have some ability to control her dream. But she had some fighting skills too. He flexed his blades. "You think you're tough, slut?"

Maggie transitioned into her defensive position. Arms raised. Her dominate right hand and right foot was angled back from him. Her right hand was raised in a tight first, and their left fist was also raised but was slightly covering their face. She flicked the on her left hand back and forth at him, goading him. "Why don't you find out!"

His jaw dropped opened in shock and his lips snapped as his breathing accelerated. His blood burning with vehemence. This fucking bitch was goading him on. Who did she think she was? Did she not realise who he was? He was Freddy fucking Krueger. Oh, by the time he was finished with this whore, his name would be carved into every inch of her skin and her heart. He raised his blades and spread them wide, swinging them down fast towards her face.

Maggie quickly anticipated his attack and slipped to the right, bending her knees and stuck her butt backwards bending at the waist. Her body rapidly leaned to the right as his blades swerved through the air, missing her hair by inches. Regaining her posture she staggered back a few feet, going into her defensive stance and couldn't hide her smirk as he turned back to her. His blue eyes flashed red with rage. He pounced forward again, driving his claw down at her chest. She again slipped to the right, ducking under the attack, and then swivelled on her back right heel. Her hip turned forward and she directed her right fist upwards, and her knuckles connected hard with the underside of his chin. He grunted as his head whipped back as he roared.

"Cunt!"

Maggie shuffled forward and aimed a cross hook at him, but he dodged her fist and then backhanded her with the metal plate of his glove. The metal connected viciously with her jaw, and she cried out, surprised at the ferocity of the impact. But it wasn't just that, that startled her. It was the searing pain in her jaw. Her legs wobbled underneath her as she staggered to the left. Her head whipped to the right, and she ducked under another swipe from his bladed glove. She backed away and tried to compose herself once again.

Freddy discreetly flicked a single blade at her, and she shrieked as a powerful force thrust her forward towards him. Krueger grinned and clamped his left hand around her throat, his fingers contracting around her flesh. She wheezed and gagged. Feeling the air being restricted in her throat. Her brown eyes flicked to the left seeing him slowly bringing his blades around the other side of her throat. His throaty chuckle echoed in her ears. The fucking was getting a kick out of this. She closed her eyes and pressed her right foot back and then tucked her chin down. Her neck became stiff and with a snarl she whipped her head down under his left wrist fast. Managing to break free her throat free of his hands. She swung her left boot forward and it crashed against his groin, making him groan and stumbled back in pain.

Maggie lightly touched her right cheek, feeling a tenderness from where he had hit her. What was going on? Why could she feel pain? She swiftly slipped her hand into her back pocket and pulled out her set of keys. Her thumb and index finger slid in between two of the small metal circular rings as she held them in her hand like a weapon. There were two main keys on the bundle, the duplicate car key Doc had made for her and her key for her apartment. There were other decorative key rings, metal chains that had various sharp, sparkly stars and crescent moons. They swung back and forth as she watched him straighten up, flicking his blades again at his side. Her own fingers flicked upwards and wriggled for a few seconds before she saw him approach. His stride strong and full of spite.

She was first to strike and swung her right hand forward, the small metal stars and crescent moons sliced through the air and torn at his left scarred chin. He growled and his body snapped in alarm at her attack. "Little bitch!"

Maggie smiled and took a few defensive steps back. Freddy glanced to his right and saw that she was standing beside a dormant pipe and with a click of his claw, a surge of heat rattled in the pipework that connected to it. Maggie frowned and screamed as a spurt of hot steam gushed from the cracked pipe across her face. The scalding heat made her jerk back and Krueger pounced forward, thrusting his hand around her neck and shoved her onto her back, her head bouncing off the hard concrete. She groaned and blindly reached to her right for the keys. She yelped as a fist collided with her left cheek and her head whipped to the left. The back of his scarred hand struck her face again and she hissed. Her head felt fuzzy as her vision began to blur. What was going on? Why was she still feeling pain? Every punch, every slap to her face felt real. Even when she was hitting him, she could feel his bones cracking under the impact.

Freddy leered down at her, reading her puzzled thoughts. "You're starting to understand, aren't you?"

She shook her head slowly and tried to rationalise the situation. "This isn't real"

"Oh, but it is real little lady" he broke out into a vicious smile.

Maggie clenched her right fist and snarled as she aimed it at his head. But he caught her wrist with his left hand and rammed it back onto the ground, then twisted it sharply to the left making her scream. It was like he was trying to wrench her arm out of its socket. He laughed and aimed another punch to her head. That's when she felt it. The taste of blood in her mouth. Her heart sped up, rapidly thudding against her ribcage. This wasn't true. Dreams couldn't be real.

Slink!

Her head jerked up as she saw the blades of his glove spread above her chest. Ready to plunge into her flesh. Her left hand shot up and grasped his wrist, straining and grunting with effort to keep it from connecting with her body. The leather of the glove felt warm and rough. Just like everything else in his fucked-up dream, it felt real. She felt his fingers dig into her hair and she shrieked as he tugged her head to the right. Exposing her sweating throat.

Freddy licked his lips and jagged his glove down, the tips of the blade's inches from her skin as she struggled against him. Just another little thrust and the blades would sink into the smooth flesh. He would satisfy his urge to kill this whore.

There was a roar of fury from Maggie, and she thrust her right hand towards his face. The sharp edges of a car key jabbed into his left cheek, drawing blood that spurted over her hand. He cursed and thrust his glove down hard towards waist as her grip loosened. She twisted her back to the right and she rolled fast out of his way, letting out a scream…

Maggie's eyes snapped opened as she tumbled off the bed, collapsing onto the carpet with a hard thud. Her panic-stricken face whipped up and wildly looked about the room, expecting him to come lunging at her. But she was safe. She was awake. It was just a dream. She had to remind herself that. Just a silly nightmare. Beads of sweat trickled down her face as she unsteadily rose to her feet. Her balance was a little off as she staggered into the bathroom and switched on the light. As she looked into the mirror her lips trembled violently, dropping open in disbelief. There was a small cut on the right corner of her lip. Her cheeks looked red. She lightly touched the skin and winced. It felt tender and sore. Slowly, her eyes ventured down to her throat, and she shuddered. Around her jugular was a red mark, in the shape of a hand.

"Jesus Christ" her breathing became low. Uneasy. She gingerly touched her right arm and delicately rolled it back and forth, again there was a faint ache. "No, no, this can't be happening"

Her right hand twitched and shook as she reached into her back pocket and pulled out the keys. Lowering her frightened gaze, she wildly shook her head in disbelief. The key to her apartment had a thick glob of red liquid staining the steel. It was from where she had stabbed that fucker's face. Before she could tear her gaze away from the keys in her hand, she saw the left side of her checked shirt was out of shape. With a shaky breath, she reached down with her left hand and ran her fingers along the material feeling four deep slashes marring the shirt…