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The Dream Trap	By : Flynnparadox Category: M through R > Nightmare on Elm Street Views: 2559 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own A Nightmare on Elm Street, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
Chapter Thirteen: The Trap
1
They left Jill's car behind and continued on in Eric's and Gale's cars. Jill traveled with Gale, Tiffany at her side the whole time, trying to keep her awake. They picked up a cup of cold water at Beefy Boy and Tiffany periodically splashed it in Jill's face.
"Come on," Tiffany said, "stay awake. Come on!"
Their plan was to use themselves as bait so they wanted to get close, physically, to Krueger in some way. There were two options: the House or the boiler room of the power plant. They chose the latter and arrived at the plant at just before 10:00pm.
The three others helped Jill out of the car and into the plant. It was all so easy. The gate was hanging open, broken sometime long ago. If they had had a moment to think about it, they might have been suspicious. As it was, they didn't have time to consider anything.
They entered the plant and sat Jill down on the ground in the filthy boiler room. Gale took off her leather jacket, threw it to the ground. Underneath, she was wearing a small white tank top. She was drenched in sweat by this point and she dazzled in the moonlight streaming in through the door of the boiler room.
Tiffany laid Jill down gently. Jill clutched at her.
"Gale!" she said. "Gale!"
Gale was by Jill's side instantly. She held onto her friend.
"We'll be with you," Gale said. "Find the Pool. All of you. We won't be together at first, but if we all find the Pool, I can pull us together. Now let's get some sleep."
They all laid down on the filthy floor, beside each other. Jill moaned a few more times and then she was out, completely gone, dead to the world.
"See you on the other side," Eric said as he closed his eyes.
"Let's do this," Tiffany said.
She shared a quick kiss with Gale, then the two of them leaned back and closed their eyes. All four of them fell into the dreamscape.
2
"Tiffany. Tiffany, wake up."
Her father. His voice was soothing, calming.
"Tiffany, I haven't forgotten what you did to me, you bitch."
Tiffany forced her eyes open, expecting to see her father looking down on her, a look of pure malice on his face. But there was no one, nothing. Just a ceiling of concrete above her.
She got up off the floor, disoriented, and looked around. Her father was nowhere to be seen, in fact, no one was. She was in what looked like a vast, cavernous parking garage. Somewhere, a loud, echoing sound made a rhythm. Tiffany bopped her head along to the rhythm, as she explored the dream. There weren't many cars, only a few scattered around the massive garage.
There came a tapping, playing against the rhythm, discordant, metal. Tiffany knew, instinctively, that it was Freddy.
"It's a dream," Tiffany said. "Just a dream. I can do whatever I want."
She closed her eyes briefly, heard and felt something drop to the ground to next to her. She opened her eyes, looked down. A skateboard was at her side. A bitchin one. Black and grey, stylish.
Her clothes were different, too: black and white, like her hair. She wore fingerless black leather gloves. She was looking good.
She hopped on the skateboard and took off, ollying off every surface, nailing everyone. She searched for the Dream Pool everywhere.
Somewhere behind her, she heard a car revving up, its engine loud and powerful. Tiffany tried to ignore it but it got louder and louder, echoing throughout the vast parking garage. Tiffany pushed herself, skating faster than she ever could in real life, looked for the Pool.
The car was just behind her now, gaining. She risked a quick glance over her shoulder at it.
It was a red convertible, not unlike Gale's car but a richer, newer-looking red. It's top was on, a red and green stripe pattern, just like Freddy's sweater. The headlights looked like eyes, the grill like a snarling mouth. The hubcaps were razored. It was a Freddy car.
The car was beside her now, menacing, trying to push her off the road. Tiffany was pushed into the wall, sparks flying from her skateboard wheels. She gaped when she saw who was behind the wheel. Up until now, she figured the car was driving itself.
It was her father.
Buford Violet was a rotting, stinking animated corpse, laughing at her one second, spitting out a grave worm the next. Tiffany almost fell off the skateboard and went under the wheels of the Freddy car. She righted herself just as the car made another attempt to run her into the wall.
She roared and jumped into the air, landed the skateboard on the wall and kept moving. It was a dream - she knew it - and she was riding along the wall, defying physics.
Then she saw it.
Ahead of her: the Dream Pool. It had taken the form of a large puddle in the center of the parking garage. It glistened in the harsh light of the garage.
The Buford Zombie reached out of the window and grabbed her, pulled her off the wall. Once again, she nearly went under the wheels.
"This is my world!" Freddy said through Buford's body.
The car sped ahead of her, came to a stop in front of the puddle, blocking her way. She stopped, kicked up her skateboard and caught it. The Freddy car turned slowly towards her, revving its engine.
Soon, she was looking straight at the corpse of her father. He grinned and coughed up a mouthful of maggets.
"You're not my father!" Tiffany said.
"But you killed me, baby," Buford said. "Now, come on, let's make up."
He lewdly licked his lips. Black bile poured from the side of his mouth. Tiffany drew in a deep breath, then reached into a jacket pocket and pulled out a pair of shades. Cool ones. She didn't even know she was carrying a pair.
She put them on, defiantly. The car revved a few more times. Tiffany dropped the skateboard to its wheels, put one foot on it.
The Freddy car sped towards her the very second that Tiffany started skating towards it. The two raced toward each other at breakneck speed.
Less than ten feet from the car, Tiffany jumped, pushing the skateboard out in front of her like a shield, only held by her feet instead of her hands. She headed towards the windshield of the Freddy car.
The Buford Zombie's mouth dropped open, its eyes bugged out, hanging on by mere tendons. It screamed as Tiffany crashed through the windshield.
The skateboard took the creature's head clean off. Black blood cascaded down the front of its body as Tiffany continued through the car, tearing out the back window and landing on the concrete behind it. She raced towards the Pool as, behind her, the Freddy car flipped, tumbling over and over, then hitting a wall and coming to a rest.
"Come and find me, Freddy!" Tiffany called out over her shoulder. "Come on!"
Then she disappeared into the Dream Pool, skateboard and all.
3
Eric landed on hard asphalt but was on his feet in no time. He dusted himself off, made sure he looked presentable. It worked. He did look like James Dean: leather jacket, cigarette dangling from his mouth, cool hair.
Looking around, he found that he was standing in the street in front of the local retirement home, with its big, luxurious lawn that he mowed for extra money on a regular basis. It had only been about a week since he last mowed it but that seemed so long ago now, a lifetime.
Mr. Blaze sat on the front porch of the home, like he always did. The old man waved to Eric and Eric found himself waving back, despite himself. Everything seemed so normal, as if he wasn't dreaming at all.
Which, of course, he wasn't. Dreaming? What a silly idea! This was a normal Saturday and he had to mow the lawn. Right? He waved vigorously at Mr. Blaze, a big smile on his face.
The sun was bright, a little unseasonably warm, but it was a good day. Eric was glad he had worn shorts and a simple T-shirt for the job ahead. The lawnmower was waiting for him, parked neatly in a corner of the yard. It glinted in the sunlight; Eric could actually a small tinging sound that accompanied the glint of light.
Eric smiled wider than he already was and walked - sauntered - towards the lawnmower. He saw that the retirement home must have bought a new lawnmower. This one was a riding lawnmower, red and green, shiny and beautiful. He liked it immediately.
He hopped on it, started it up, the engine turned over gorgeously. He took off, mowing the lawn up and down, creating perfect rows of freshly-cut grass. Mr. Blaze smiled at him as he worked. Eric winked at the old man, who laughed. But there was something different about the old man today. Something about his skin. It looked fake, almost as if it had been painted on.
A car horn honked in the street and Eric looked up to see a Greyhound bus waiting in the street for him. All of his friends were on the bus. Jill was driving, Bobby in the seat behind her, his arm draped over her shoulder. Riley and Ann were there, too, peaking out the windows.
"Come on, Eric," Jill said.
"Yeah," Riley said.
"We're getting out of this little one-horse-town," Jill said.
"I'll be done in a bit," Eric called back. "This new lawnmower's great! Should be able to get the job done in no time at all!"
"Bus is leaving now," Bobby said. "There isn't going to be another one! Come on, man!"
"I can't!" Eric said.
"You'll never get out of here," Jill said.
Eric looked at the lawn in front of him, looked at the bus. He stood up off the chair, intending to leave on the bus.
"Son!" Mr. Blaze said behind him.
Eric turned to regard the old man. Mr. Blaze was standing, which was something he never did before. There was something wrong with the old man. The skin on his face was peeling away in long, ugly strips.
"You have a duty here," Mr. Blaze said. "That lawn isn't going to mow itself. Now get back to work."
Eric thought long and hard, looked at Mr. Blaze, at the lawn, at the bus. He shook his head.
"It's a dream," he said. "I have to find the Pool."
"Pool?" Mr. Blaze said. "Don't talk nonsense, son."
"Fuck you," Eric said.
He got off the lawnmower. His James Dean clothes were back in place the second his feet hit the lawn. He looked around, trying to find the Pool. Maybe it was down the street. He had to ignore all this other nonsense: Mr. Blaze, the lawn, the bus. None of it mattered. Only the Pool mattered, only the plan, only the Trap.
The bus honked its horn again, distracting Eric. He looked at it. Jill looked back at him expectantly.
"Now or never," she said. "You'll be stuck in this town forever if you don't leave now."
She made a good point, Eric had to admit it. He found himself starting towards the bus. Maybe the Pool was on the bus. Was that so far-fetched? He was almost off the lawn - on the very edge of it - when he felt a horrible pain shoot through his feet.
He looked down and saw spikes - four of them - sticking through his feet, two in each foot. It was as if they had popped out of the ground and through his feet, which they probably had. Eric screamed.
The spikes moved, curled inward, piercing him again, through the top of his feet this time. The bus started to move, started to leave. Jill waved at him as she passed by. His fingertips were just out of reach of the bus. If he could only just reach it.
He extended himself as far as he could - his feet in extraordinary pain - gaining himself an inch or two. The bus was almost gone but he managed to grab hold of the rear bumper, held on tight. His might was actually slowing the bus, holding it in place.
He was going to make it! He was going to get on the bus and get out of this town, once and for all! It was a foregone conclusion now.
But the spikes held him hard to the ground. He fought against them, held his hands tight on the bumper. He stole a glance behind him, saw Mr. Blaze step off the porch and onto the lawn. His face was almost completely peeled off now, revealing the burned flesh beneath.
"Krueger!" Eric said. "I'm getting out of here! You can't stop me!"
Krueger laughed and got on the riding lawnmower, which now resembled some kind of mad cross between a normal riding lawnmower and an ice cream truck. It was white but had red and green stripes here and there. Krueger started it up, its engine loud and abrasive, black smoke billowing from its exhaust.
Eric held onto the bus but it revved into another gear and tore away from him. There was a crunching sound as his wrists broke, a plop as they separated from his arms. He screamed as pain shot through his entire body.
The bus took his hands and his skin with it.
It tore away from his muscles and bones with a sickening, wet sound, peeling away like the false Mr. Blaze skin that Krueger had been wearing. With a final pull, the bus lurched away, Eric's hands and skin trailing behind it.
Eric dropped to the ground, skinless and handless, blood spraying from the stumps where his arms now ended. Behind him, Krueger got the lawnmower moving. Its blades looked hideous, a great, razored mouth endless moving back and forth at breakneck speed. It ate the ground up as it approached him, great clumps of lawn flying into the air. Krueger laughed as he came.
Eric tried to crawl away, the asphalt tearing at his exposed muscles, his stumps still pouring blood everywhere. The lawnmower reached his trapped feet, made mulch of them.
Eric screamed again and the lawnmower ate him, inch by inch, blood spraying everywhere, like a sprinkler system gone haywire. Eric stopped moving by the time the lawnmower reached his chest. He was dead but the lawnmower continued, eating the rest of him up. His head went last, chewed up in the hungry teeth of the metal beast.
When it was done, Krueger turned off the machine, got off it. He looked at the lawn, freshly-cut with a nice layer of blood to boot. He smiled, satisfied.
Then he laughed, long and hearty.
"One down," he said. "Three to go!"
4
"Ten minutes, Gale," the little guy who stuck his head in the room said.
"What?" Gale said.
But the little guy was gone, closing the door behind him. Gale looked around. She was in what looked like someone's bedroom. A ratty, filthy bedroom. The mattress was crawling with bed bugs, the corners of the room filled with nests of cockroaches, the ceiling covered in hanging cobwebs filled with black widows, the closet felt like it had eyes.
Gale had been sitting on the bed but stood up the second she saw the state of it. Before she could shake off her disorientation, before she could convince herself that this was all a dream, there was a knock on the door.
"Yes?" she said.
A man opened the door, and came in. He was tall and fat, black thinning hair, greasy. A large, phallic cigar was stuck in his mouth. He wore a white T-shirt and khaki pants that were too small for him. He was covered in sweat.
"Honey," he said, "you're gonna be great out there tonight. Cameras are all ready, Tiffany's ready, all the technicians are ready. We're gonna shoot the Hell of this thing."
"Shoot?" Gale said. "Shoot what?"
"The scene, come on."
"And who are you?"
"What, are you high? I'm your trusted director, who else would I be?"
"Right," Gale said. "I think I remember..."
"That's the spirit," the Director said. "Look, I have to thank you again for agreeing to this. You being a big star and all."
"A big star?"
"Well, sure. Hot 100, Billboard, album went gold and all that. You're becoming a big deal. So, doing something like this...well, it's kinda unheard of. Big score for us so, thank you."
"You're...welcome. Remind me again what we're doing."
"Man, you big stars really know how to party, don't you? Jesus, if I did that much coke, my head would explode. The scene. We're doing a sex scene for my new movie. You and Tiffany are gonna bang and--"
"You're gonna shoot me and Tiffany fucking?"
"Well, I wouldn't use the word fuck. I mean, come on, girls can't really fuck, now can they? Only somebody with a dick can fuck, am I right?"
"Uh..."
"Sure I'm right. I shoot porn, of course I'm right. I know sex and, let me tell you, lesbian shit ain't sex. It's just foreplay. But some people like it. As long as we got the guys jerking off around you two, it should play well enough."
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Gale said.
"Here I am running my mouth off," the Director said, "while you know all this already. I was talking with your boyfriend and he--"
"My boyfriend?"
"Yeah, Eric. He was telling me that you can't keep your hands off him. A real dick lover, he called you."
"You're out of your mind!"
She backed away from him, inching towards the closet. There was a pair of eyes watching them from the closet. As she approached it, the pair of eyes became a figure. The figure lunged.
At the last second, Gale stepped out of the way of the figure, who was wearing a white mask and brandishing a knife. The figure tripped and Gale acted fast, reaching out and plunging her thumbs into the both of the figure's eyes. The figure's eyeballs popped, blood and goo running out of his eye sockets. The figure screamed, dropped the knife he was holding and put both hands to his face.
Gale stomped on the figure's throat, breaking his windpipe instantly. The figure started to gasp. He couldn't breathe. The Director lunged for Gale as the figure died below them.
Gale grabbed the knife that the figure had dropped and pointed it at the Director. The man put up both hands in a submissive gesture.
"What the fuck is going on here?" Gale said.
"Okay, okay," the Director said, "I admit it. Mikey here was gonna kill you and Tiffany during the scene. Lesbian stuff just doesn't sell that well for us. But snuff movies? Absolutely! They sell like hotcakes. In Germany and Eastern Europe, especially. And a snuff movie with an internationally famous recording star? Forget about it. Pure gold."
"You sick fucking diseased prick. I can't believe you would do this. And to me! My career is just..."
She trailed off.
"Gale?" the Director said. "You there?"
"No," Gale said.
"No, you're not there?"
"No, this is just a dream. And you're nothing."
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm calling the Pool. And you'll have to find me, Krueger! Hear me?!"
"Pool? What the fuck are you--"
He stopped speaking abruptly, his mouth filling with something. He coughed, water escaping from his lips. His midsection began to swell up with fluid. The skin on his head began to pull away from his skull. He screamed and, all at once, the Dream Pool escaped from his body, blowing him apart and filling the room with water almost instantly. Gale stood in the cleansing water for a moment before sinking into it and disappearing beneath its waves.
5
Jill sat in the bleachers, cheering along with the rest of the crowd. She sipped on her soda and took a bite of her hot dog. It was especially good today. On the football field below her, Bobby threw a pass to Riley, who caught it brilliantly, took it all the way to the goal. The crowd went wild and Jill got to her feet, raised the soda and hot dog high above her head, screamed and cheered.
It was an amazing, dazzling day. The sun shown down on the field, with a few fluffy white clouds here and there. It wasn't hot, either. Just right. The perfect day, one could say.
She sat back down. To her right was Lisa Webber, to her left, Tina Gray. The three of them were thick as thieves, as noisy as hens in a chicken coup.
"Careful," Lisa said, "you're gonna spill that all over yourself."
"What do I care?" Jill said. "The day I'm having? What's one little slip up?"
The three of them laughed. Eric leaned over them from behind - the next bleacher row up - crowding their space. He laughed, too.
"Oh, man," he said, "nice out today."
"Yeah," Jill said. "Perfect."
"Say, Jill."
"What?"
"Did you even know Lisa that well?"
"What do you mean? She's one of my best friends."
"Oh, yeah?"
Lisa looked at them, confused, her smile faltering. Tina looked the same.
"Of course I know Lisa," Jill said, but she was unsure.
"How 'bout Tina here?" Eric said.
"Well, yeah, she--"
"Was killed before we were even in high school," Eric finished her thought.
"That doesn't make any sense," Jill said.
"You're right, it doesn't. You know what else doesn't make sense?"
"What?"
"The fact that Bobby and Riley are out there playing on that field."
"What are you talking about?"
"They're dead, Jill. Bobby, Riley, Lisa, Tina. All dead."
"Fuck off, Eric," Jill said. "You're losing it. I mean, I know you're weird, but come on, don't ruin my perfect day."
"I'm dead, too," Eric said. "Freddy got me. Just now, in fact. And you better wise up, figure out what's going on or he's gonna get you, too."
"I..."
She looked around. Lisa and Tina were staring at her, not blinking. Jill stood up, still holding her hot dog and soda. All the players on the field had stopped, too. They were staring up at her, hands on their hips.
Everyone in the bleachers was looking at her. Just a few rows below her, twenty or thirty children sat, turned halfway around in their seats to see her. They were all wearing white.
"Jesus," Jill said.
"Yeah," Eric said. "I gotta go. Got a few friends to meet up with. See you soon, though."
She looked around but he was gone. Lisa stood up next to her, blood pouring from the slice in her neck. Tina stood up next, her chest a bloody mess. They were all zombies, everyone here in the bleachers and everyone out there on the field. Jill's mind expanded and she knew, instinctively, that this whole world was filled zombies, hungry, shambling creatures.
Her hot dog was not beef anymore. It was a small baby's arm wrapped in a bun. And her soda? Carbonated blood.
She dropped them, kicked them aside. The zombies started towards her. She jumped down the bleachers, one or two rows at a time, heading for the ground. It was hairy, those creatures coming for her all the time.
She managed to get onto the field, hopping down from the bleachers and landing on the AstroTurf. The football player zombies shambled towards her and she rushed away, slipping for a moment, regaining her balance. She ran towards the Phys Ed building, which was just off the field, looking for the Dream Pool along the way.
Someone was blocking her way, someone else who was already dead. She came to a stop.
"Daddy?" she said.
Bill Snyder stood in front of the Phys Ed building. His arms were extended in a welcoming gesture. Jill was cautious, backed away a few steps.
Above them, the skies darkened, clouds gathering. Lightning flashed and thunder crashed as the clouds opened up, rain coming down in sheets. Jill was immediately soaked.
"Come here, baby," her father said. "Everything will be okay."
"No," Jill said, shaking her head. "You're dead, Dad. Freddy got to you, somehow."
"That's ridiculous. I'm right here."
"This is a dream. I know it's a dream."
The ground around her was full of puddles now and she smiled. The Dream Pool had come to her. Was it Gale, helping out somehow? She didn't know, didn't care.
The moment her father changed into Freddy, she was already jumping into one of the pools. She called to him as the Pool enveloped her:
"Come on, Freddy! You'll never catch me!"
6
Jill, Gale and Tiffany all emerged from the Dream Pool at the same time, crashing to the ground in a heap. Tiffany's skateboard banged into Gale's head: it would have left a knot if this was the waking world.
"We made it!" Tiffany said.
The three of them hugged, pure delight on their faces. Gale and Tiffany kissed while Jill watched them with a sad smile.
"Wait, where's Eric?" Gale asked.
"He didn't make it," Jill said.
"Oh, God," Tiffany said.
"Fuck," Gale said.
Jill shook her head. She put a hand on Gale and Tiffany's shoulders.
"We can't dwell on it," she said. "We have to keep moving. Freddy is following us, I just know it. We have to stick to the plan."
"Right," Gale said.
Tiffany nodded. The three of them got up. Gale picked up her baseball bat from the ground while Tiffany tucked her skateboard under one arm. Looking around, they found that they were in a vast cornfield. The rows were like a maze, all of them leading towards a massive House in the center of the cornfield: 1428 Elm, looking about ten times its normal size. The House towered over everything, clouds bumping up against its roof. The moon was dwarfed in comparison.
"Well, that's where we're going, I guess," Gale said.
"Seems about right," Jill said.
They started towards the House, heading through the corn maze. It was eerily quiet, no bugs, no animals, only the sound of the wind rustling through the stalks of corn. Jill kept expecting to see something stagger into their path from the mass of corn, something inhuman and hulking, something that walks behind the rows. But there was nothing, just the wind and the corn and, beyond, the House, looking down on them.
It was almost worse this way: not knowing when or where Freddy would strike. The three of them walked in silence. Jill didn't know about the others but she was contemplating Eric's death, and wondering about their bodies back at the boiler room. Were they safe? What if they defeated Freddy only to be stabbed to death in the real world by some scary, deranged tramp with a screwdriver? She shook her head, pushed the thought out of her mind. She couldn't think about that, didn't have the time or luxury to do so.
There was a rustling in the corn near them. Gale shared a look with Jill, nodded. She raised her bat, ready for whatever was about to come through the stalks and onto the path. Sweat poured down her brow and under her arms and breasts. Whatever was out there would be on them any second now. It pushed through the corn and onto the path right next to them.
It was a girl, a year or two younger than Gale and Jill.
Gale almost hit her, stopped when she saw her. The girl was blonde, pretty, with a somewhat sad, forlorn look. Right now she also looked scared, confused.
"Jesus, you scared us!" Gale said.
"Don't you know it's bad to sneak up on people!" Tiffany said. "Especially in here!"
"It's okay," Jill said, put an arm around the girl. "What's your name?"
"Kristen," the girl said. "Kristen Parker."
"Yeah, I know her," Tiffany said. "Kind of quiet, sticks mostly to herself in school."
"So she's not dead, then?" Gale said.
"Not that I know of."
"Dead?" Kristen said. "Why would I be dead?"
"It's nothing," Gale said. "How did you get here?"
"Well, it'll sound dumb."
"Try us," Tiffany said.
"I used to be able to pull people into my dreams. My mom, mostly. But it's been a long time. But tonight, I was dreaming..."
"What were you dreaming about?" Jill said.
Kristen shrugged.
"A boy in school," she said.
"Which boy?" Jill said, smiling.
"Rick. He's cool."
"Rick, there you go! So you were dreaming about him and then what?"
"I could feel you guys. It was like radar or something. I knew you were here, so I walked through the wall and came out here."
"There wasn't a body of water involved?" Gale said.
"Body of water?" Kristen said.
"Like a pond or pool or something?"
"No, nothing like that. I just came here."
"Jesus. You're pretty powerful. I can't do anything like that."
Kristen shrugged again, looked away, embarrassed. They cleared the corn maze, emerging onto the front lawn of the House. It loomed over them, although Jill noticed that now it looked fairly normal in size, not as giant as it was from a distance. Kristen spotted the House and was horrified.
"Oh, God, what is that?" she said.
"It's a bad place," Gale said.
"I don't like it," Kristen said.
Kristen looked up into an open window on the second floor. Something moved up there in that room, something that took a human shape but wasn't human at all, not anymore. She only got a brief glimpse of him but it was enough.
Kristen had seen Freddy for the first time.
"There was someone up there," she said.
"Forget about him," Gale said. "I mean really forget about him. Don't think about him. Your life could depend on it."
Gale pulled Jill aside while Tiffany stayed close to Kristen, trying to comfort her. Gale and Jill whispered their conversation.
"We have to get her out of here," Gale said. "We have a job to do and she doesn't deserve to get tangled up in it."
"Agreed," Jill said. "What should we do?"
Gale shook her head.
"I don't want to hurt her," she said. "But that's not really what I'm worried about."
"What is it, then?" Jill said.
"What if Freddy is able to get to her after all this? Because she saw the House, saw him?"
It was Jill's turn to shake her head.
"We can't worry about that," she said. "We'll just have to hope that doesn't happen."
"So how do you want to wake her up?" Gale said.
"A quick poke with something sharp should do it."
"I said I didn't want to hurt her."
"I'll do it, you don't have to."
"No, no, I'm the bitch here. I'll do it." She broke apart from Jill, turned to Kristen. "Hey, pretty little thing, this is gonna hurt a bit but it'll save your life...hopefully."
She reached out and pulled a Misfits pin off Tiffany's jacket and grabbed Kristen's hand. Before the girl could protest, Gale quickly stabbed her in the arm, below her elbow. Kristen yelped in pain, then quickly faded away, back into the waking world.
"That must have hurt," Tiffany said.
"She's better off," Gale said. "We don't want him to get to her."
Tiffany nodded.
"Let's go," Jill said.
They entered the House. Jill was focused, thinking of the stairwell in Dr. Saunders' building. She was memorizing the layout, getting ready to use it when the time came.
The place was its usual eerie self: empty hallways, broken down rooms, strange sounds all over the place. There was a pile of dead leaves in one corner of the entryway. Gale approached it, confused.
There was something strange about the pile, something not right at all. The leaves were moving, and not in the wind. Moving with purpose. Gale stared for a moment, then backed away.
"Oh, God," she said. "No fucking way."
It wasn't a pile of dead leaves at all. It was a pile of cockroaches. A strong gust of supernatural wind whipped up, blew the cockroaches into the air. Gale screamed, glad that she didn't have hair that the bugs could get tangled up in. The bugs swarmed all over the three girls and soon they couldn't see each other.
Freddy had separated them again.
7
Tiffany pushed at a door. It wouldn't budge. She hit it with her skateboard several times and finally the old wood shattered and she went through the doorway. She emerged into what looked like a library, of the kind that one would see in an old mansion, large and expansive.
She didn't stop to admire it but kept moving forward. Freddy was behind her, she could feel him. She jumped on her skateboard and raced through the house, passing through room after room, hallway after hallway.
She didn't know how long she would be able to stay ahead of the bastard.
8
Gale screamed again and again. Cockroaches were the one thing that she hated more than any other creature on the planet. She beat at her body, whirled around, ran from the entryway.
She ran upstairs and emerged onto the second floor. It didn't look anything like the outside. There was a long hallway lit with old candelabra. Gale ran down the hallway, pretty sure she was free of roaches by now. The hallway gradually changed. It was now lined with mirrors. She was reflected in all of them, each one showing a different Gale.
In some, she was old and frail, in others younger than she was now, in still others middle-aged and looking depressed. She watched as her true reflection - the one she was looking at now - started to age rapidly. She could feel herself weakening. It wouldn't be long and she would be nothing but a pile of old bones on the ground.
9
Jill didn't run.
She wasn't afraid of the roaches. In fact, she laughed, snatched one out of the air and crushed it in the palm of her hand. She stepped on others, swatted some in front of her.
This was just a distraction. Freddy was trying to rattle them. She shook her head. It wasn't going to work.
"Enough!" she shouted.
Instantly, all the roaches dropped to the ground, dead. Jill smiled, then frowned. Gale and Tiffany were gone. Freddy's trick had worked on them. She knew that Gale hated roaches but was disappointed, anyway.
She stepped out of the entryway, crushing dead bugs underfoot as she went. She looked for a door, found one and opened it. It led down to the boiler room. She just knew it.
She had to make sure Freddy followed her, got him off her friends' backs. But how?
"Think, damn it!" she said.
She looked at the old, rusting metal of the staircase railing. There were sharp edges all over it. Normally, a cut from one of those would wake her up. But she had been sedated, quite heavily.
Not sparing another moment, she raked her arm down one of the sharper pieces of jagged metal. It was painful and she bled profusely.
"Come on, Freddy!" she yelled out. "Come and get me!"
She spread blood on the ground and behind her as she headed down the stairs, down into the dark. The loss of blood was already starting to make her feel weak.
10
All at once, Tiffany knew that Krueger wasn't behind her anymore. His presence was gone. And she also knew, instinctively that Jill was hurt. She could feel the girl's pain, could smell her blood. Abruptly, she turned around and headed back the way she had come, looking for a way down, trying to follow the plan.
"I'm coming, Jill," she said. "I'm coming!"
11
Gale fought against whatever was aging her in the mirror but she was losing. It was hard enough to hold the bat in her hands, let alone do anything with it. She collapsed to her knees. What was the use? Freddy was going to win. It didn't matter what they did.
"No," she said.
She thought of Tiffany. Thought of some kind of life together with this girl, this person she loved.
"No!" she screamed.
She used her last bit of strength to swing the bat as hard as she could. It connected with the mirror, which shattered, glass flying everywhere. Instantly, Gale felt renewed, felt her old self return. She looked up at the hole in the wall where the mirror used to be, smiled.
The Dream Pool came rushing towards her, crashing into her. The beautiful, dark-haired woman came with it, picked her up, carried her along its currents. As she was traveling, Gale saw Tiffany, on her skateboard. She reached out, grabbed her lover, took her with them. Jill would need both of them if she was going to get out of this alive.
12
Jill staggered down the stairs. Blood dripped from her arm and onto each step, making a loud, echoing sound each time. She knew Freddy was near. It had worked. He had followed her. She had already started to turn the staircase into the insane, winding staircase of Dr. Saunders' building. Freddy was no doubt already confused.
But how long could she last?
It didn't matter. She had to get to the bottom ahead of Freddy, had to stick to the plan. All of a sudden, she heard the sound of rushing waves and Gale and Tiffany were by her side.
"Jesus," Gale said, seeing Jill's arm.
Tiffany tore a piece of her shirt off, tied it around Jill's wound. Jill hugged the two girls.
"I didn't know if you were gonna make it," she said.
"You kidding?" Gale said. "We wouldn't miss this for the world."
They ran down the stairs now, Jill's strength restored, at least for the time being. They could hear Freddy in pursuit but he was always behind them, not used to the winding, unfamiliar staircase.
"There it is!" Tiffany said.
They reached the bottom, and emerged into the boiler room, its harsh metal surfaces lit with that horrible, reddish light, steam rising all over. The three of them headed towards the nearest furnace, a classic black metal affair, not unlike the furnaces in most of their own basements.
"Here," Jill said. "This will do. This is it."
She stared at the furnace, concentrating, as Freddy emerged into the boiler room behind them, laughing. He strutted towards them, taking his time. He took his hat off, adjusted it, put it back on.
"Looks like you've been giving me the runaround," he said. "Whole lot of fancy footwork just to get to where I wanted you to go all along!"
He laughed again, brandished his blades. Tiffany went after him first, skating towards him. He knocked her aside with one swift push. The girl fell off the skateboard in a heap.
"Now, Gale!" Jill said.
Gale stepped in front of Jill and swung her baseball bat at the furnace. It started to shatter like glass. Freddy looked puzzled. Tiffany sat up, unharmed.
"We're ready for you, Krueger!" Jill said.
Gale swung again and again, destroying the furnace and revealing something else beneath it, something Freddy recognized. It was an old, fearsome-looking refrigerator. Gale stepped aside when the fridge was fully uncovered. The massive metal beast lunged forward, its door opening and closing, hungry.
"No!" Freddy said.
Gale ran at the dream demon, swinging her baseball bat. Freddy caught the bat deftly with his left hand, threw the girl aside.
Jill stood in front of the fridge, facing Freddy. She gestured for him to come at her.
"Come on, Freddy," she said. "Come get me!"
Freddy rushed towards her. Jill knew he wasn't stupid, knew that she was most likely going to jump out of the way, hoping that the fridge would get him. So she did something Freddy wouldn't expect.
She stayed where she was, directly in front of his path.
"No!" Gale screamed. "Jill!"
Freddy jumped on Jill, claws first. His four razored fingers tore into Jill just below her neck. The pain was immense but she kept hold of Freddy. The two of them fell in what felt like slow motion. Jill turned during the fall, using Freddy's strength against him. At exactly the right moment, she kicked Krueger away from her. His claws were violently ripped from her body, tearing away flesh and bone.
Freddy was tossed into the snatching jaws of the fridge. For one brief moment, they all could see him inside the fridge, shaking and terrified. He began to scream and then the fridge slammed shut, sealing him inside.
The fridge roared, shook, rattled its chains. Freddy fought inside it, trying to get out, but it was no good. A childhood fear had come to claim him.
Here in a landscape dominated - created, even - by them.
Gale and Tiffany ran to Jill's side. Gale cradled Jill. The dying girl's blood soaked Gale's clothes and got all over her skin. She was bleeding out fast. Gale held onto her. The red light behind them began to dim.
"No," Gale said, crying. "No, why did you do that? What the fuck were you thinking, you stupid bitch?"
"It..." Jill managed to say, "only way..."
She died, eyes going blank, staring up at Gale. The dreamworld died with her, the light fading rapidly, the boiler room falling apart around them. It felt like a 10.5 earthquake hit the world, and Apocalypse had come. A chorus of screaming children hurt the two girls' ears. Everything was dying.
Tiffany held onto Gale, who continued to hold onto Jill. They stayed there for some time before returning to the waking world.
And escape.
Epilogue: You Are Now Leaving Springwood
They just made one stop on their way out of town. They didn't know how long the road ahead of them would be. They had money, they had gas, but they needed a few more supplies. The little shop on the outskirts of town seemed like the best idea.
Tiffany stayed in the car while Gale went inside to buy what they needed. They had discussed everything that had happened up to this point.
Their first order of business was to start taking Hypnocil. This they did with relish.
After this, they debated what to do with the bodies of Jill and Eric, still lying on the cold ground of the boiler room in the real world. They decided to carry them to Eric's car and lay them down carefully in the front and backseats. They couldn't bear to leave them in that place, even dead.
They felt that they had to move fast. Tiffany was meant to be taken under the state's care and shuffled off to God knows where. Also, they were both almost certainly wanted in connection with at least several unexplained deaths by this point.
They weren't too worried. Cops in Springwood are not exactly the sharpest knives in the drawer, and the people of the town knew how to keep a secret.
Springwood was a town made of secrets. They knew that now.
As Gale was inside the store getting supplies, Tiffany looked out the window, arms resting on the windowsill, taking in her last glimpse of the town where she had lived her entire life. Emotions flashed by like the blades of a fan: loss, fear, nostalgia, elation, excitement, love.
She leaned back in the passenger seat and looked up at the rearview mirror in passing. Someone moved in the backseat. Tiffany whirled around to look into the back but there was nothing.
"Something wrong?" Gale said.
She approached the car, a bag of supplies in her hand. Tiffany shook her head.
"Thought I saw something," Tiffany said. "That's all."
"Okay," Gale said.
She got into the car, sitting in the driver's seat behind the wheel. Tiffany leaned over and they kissed. It was the best one yet but one tinged with sadness and the weight of loss.
"Are you ready?" Gale asked.
"Yeah," Tiffany said.
Gale revved the car, got it going. They sped down the road, past the "You Are Now Leaving Springwood" sign, not quite knowing where they were going.
And, somewhere in Springwood, a girl named Kristen Parker woke up from a dream she couldn't quite remember; something about a House and a horrible man. The dream may have faded now but, soon enough, it would come again.
And again.
And again.
The nightmare never truly ended, not really.
THE END
- 12
- 13
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The Dream Trap