Chapter 8: Freddy Makes His Move
Taylor and Lenore followed Allen upstairs to the guest bedroom where he slept whenever he came over. It gave a pretty good view of the back of the house that shared their backyard fence.
Taylor raised an eyebrow, and kidded, "So, you really do spy on your neighbors from your room upstairs?"
Allen rolled his eyes. "I'm only keeping watch on the weird stuff going on at the house behind Cousin Norie's! And besides, you can't even see Pamelynne's backyard pool from this window. You can only see it from Aunt Karen's side office window!"
Seriously, Lenore rounded to Taylor, adding, "And the door to mom's office is always locked, and Allen doesn't have a key!"
Realizing that he just made a potentially serious faux-pas with Lenore, Taylor nodded and quickly changed the subject. "So, what kind of "weird stuff" did you see, Allen?"
Without skipping a beat, Allen continued. "A few nights ago, I saw a bat flying into an open, upstairs window of Mr. Richardson's house!"
"The upstairs window was open?" Taylor mused. "As hot as it's been all this week . . . ?"
"I know, right?" said Allen. "And before you ask, I heard the air conditioner running at the Richardson's house, so it wasn't open for ventilation."
Taylor nodded. "And you're sure it wasn't a pet bird? Maybe Mr. Richardson has a parrot or something, that he lets out at night?"
Allen looked serious. "I know the difference between a bird and a bat when I see one.
"As for pets, Mr. Richardson has at least three big, mean-looking dogs. They never seem to bark, but whenever they see me looking at them through the window, they just stare at me and snarl.
"And whenever I go away from the window, if I look back five, ten or twenty minutes later; they're still there, looking up at my window!"
"Pretty weird," said Taylor.
"Dogs are one thing," said Allen. "But what kind of weirdo keeps a bat for a pet . . . ?"
Before Taylor could answer, the three of them heard a terrified scream, followed by calls for help that definitely sounded like Pamelynne.
Allen turned to run for the door, but was stopped by Lenore holding him firmly. "We're not going over there! We're calling the police!"
"I'm on it," said Taylor reaching for his Smartphone. "What the . . . ?
"I'm not getting any signal, Norie!"
Lenore checked her own phone. "Me either!"
Allen went to the landline phone on his nightstand, took it off the cradle, and said, "Guys, it's dead!"
From outside, they heard Pamelynne scream again. "LEAVE US ALONE, YOU PERVERT!"
Without another word, Taylor, Lenore and Allen sprinted down the stairs and out the front door to check on their neighbors . . . .
After taking a quick nap, Treavor and Pamelynne got up and went for a 'swim' in her backyard pool, picking up from where they had left off after being interrupted earlier in the evening. But while the two teens were running on hormones, they still tried to keep the noise they made to a minimum as they 'swam;' the feeling that they had been watched earlier was still very fresh in their minds.
Though Pamelynne had more-or-less 'accepted' Lenore's and Taylor's explanation for what made her think that she and Treavor were being spied on, Treavor had been less than certain. And even now as the boy and girl embraced in water up to their waists, Treavor was still making an effort to be aware of their surroundings, unable to fully dismiss the feeling that someone might be watching them.
Treavor was pretty certain that Lenore's little cousin Allen wasn't watching them – at least not now. If nothing else, the older teen had made a very real impression on the Fifth Grader a few hours ago. And even if the kid really was guilty of spying on them late last night as they were 'swimming,' he definitely wouldn't be dumb enough to try doing it again so soon after being called-out for it. Besides, the kid was probably soundly asleep this early in the morning.
Treavor moved his hands from Pamelynne's lower-waist upward to where her bikini top (what little there was of it) was tied. Sensing Pamelynne's acquiescence, he started to untie it. But before he could, he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye.
No, it wasn't from the window of Ms. Browning's home office. Treavor saw movement from behind the yard barn in Pamelynne's backyard. And it's shadow was definitely man-shaped . . . .
Coquettishly, Pamelynne whispered into Treavor's ear that if he didn't undo her top, that she'd do it, herself. But Treavor told her to not make any sudden moves and to hear him out.
Treavor told Pamelynne what he saw, and following his impromptu plan, the two teens casually swam to the pool ladder, acting as though they were done with their swimming, and were preparing to go back inside the house.
Then, Treavor made his move. The boy sprinted to the yard barn, and before he could get there, a man wearing a Fedora and a dirty old raincoat bolted from behind the shed, heading straight for the gate. But he didn't get very far until the enraged teen caught up with him, knocking the intruder down and pummeling him with his fists.
"F*CKING PERVERT! HOW LONG WERE YOU HIDING BACK THERE, WATCHING US?!"
"No, no, w-wait, please wait . . . !" said the man as he tried to cover his face in shame and from Treavor's fists. "I didn't m-mean you nice kids any harm! I just wanted to watch . . . ."
But Treavor kept up the attack. "HOW LONG WERE YOU SPYING ON US, YOU FREAK?!"
The man held up his hands pleadingly, revealing a nondescript face and unkempt, curly blonde hair. "No, please don't h-hurt me! P-please let me explain . . . ."
"THERE'S NOTHING FOR YOU TO EXPLAIN!" Treavor punctuated his point with a roundhouse kick that sent the intruder sprawling.
As this happened, Pamelynne ran into the house and returned seconds later with her dad's aluminum softball bat, running to assist her boyfriend and to avenge herself.
But before either teen could land another blow, the intruder – showing no signs of having just being beaten by Treavor - leapt to his feet and mockingly laughed at them. In that moment, both teens instantly recognized the intruder as the same man whose pictures were in the old newspapers that Lenore had just shown them late last night.
Simultaneously, both Treavor and Pamelynne said, "It's Fred Krueger!"
And in reply, the intruder transformed right before their eyes. Though he still wore his Fedora, the raincoat had become a pair of brown pants and a red and green striped sweater. His pale white flesh and blonde hair had also transformed, becoming a hairless mass of burned scar tissue.
But the scariest part of Krueger's transformation was the bladed Glove on his right hand.
The sight of the thing before them shocked both teens, and before either could react, Krueger slashed Treavor on his bare abdomen, leaving four, weeping cuts, and making the boy fall to his knees.
"P-Pamelynne," Treavor gasped, "He got me! M-my stomach . . . ."
Pamelynne attacked, charging Krueger, she swung the bat hard. But Krueger held up the index finger blade on his right hand, causing Pamelynne to freeze in midair, her bat just inches from Krueger's head. Paralyzed, the girl could only watch helplessly as she saw Treavor on his knees, both hands clutching his wounded midsection to stem the bleeding.
With a dismissive flick of Freddy's Glove, Pamelynne then felt herself being pulled backwards, dropping the bat as she flew over the pool screaming, only stopping when her back struck the wall of her house, and momentarily knocking the wind out of her. When the girl regained her senses, she found herself stuck to the wall as though she were glued to it, about five feet above the ground.
"Hrmmm . . . ," said Freddy with satisfaction as he nodded at the girl stuck on the wall, and then turned to Treavor and said, "So, Treavor; how do you like my new wall decoration? Personally, I think it's a little too perfect for my tastes . . . .
"But who knows? Maybe if I . . . work on her, a bit; add a few, personal touches . . . ." Krueger emphasized his point by wiggling the finger-razors on his Gloved, right hand.
"Leave her alone!" gasped Treavor.
"Awww, Treavor . . . ," said Krueger, shaking his head with mock disappointment. "You don't like my 'special work?' That hurts my feelings, kid. I mean, look what I did for you . . . .
"Any muscle-head can have a "six-pack." But when those cuts scar-up real nice-like; you'll have a "twenty-four pack!" Krueger then burst into a spine-chilling laugh that would scare The Joker.
Pamelynne screamed, "LEAVE US ALONE, YOU PERVERT!"
"Do as I say, and that may be arranged," growled Krueger.
"W-what do you want?" said Treavor, gritting his teeth against the pain.
Krueger smiled. "I'll let you know as soon as the others get here . . . .
"Ah. And here they come, now!"
From her 'vantage point' high up on the wall, Pamelynne saw them first. Coming from the side gate into her backyard, Lenore Browning and Taylor Albert Swift, followed by Lenore's younger cousin Allen, burst into the yard, abruptly stopping when Fred Krueger rounded to face them with a vicious growl, transfixing them where they stood.
Eyes wide, Allen said, "It's . . . him! It's Frederick Charles Krueger! The Springwood Slasher! He's the guy from those old newspapers who killed all those little kids fifty years ago! But he's all burned up!"
"Gee, it's GOOD to be recognized, again!" Krueger made an exaggerated bow, and then with a casual click-and-flick of the blades on his Glove, sent the ten-year-old boy flying over the pool, his back striking the wall next to where Pamelynne was stuck.
"Now, listen up, you little piggies!" said Krueger, turning his attention to Lenore, Taylor and Treavor. "You all belong to ME! YOU ARE ALL MY CHILDREN, NOW!
"And I've got some special work for you little piggies! You're going to tell the whole world about me! You're going to set me up a website, and make me WORLD FAMOUS!
"Do as I say, and I'll let you all live!
"But first, I need you three to do a little . . . errand for me . . . ."