The Dream Trap | By : Flynnparadox Category: M through R > Nightmare on Elm Street Views: 2490 -:- 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 Seven: School Is Hell
1
It was Thursday morning. The long, Hellish Wednesday night was finally over, banished in the cold light of day. Jill, Gale, Eric, Stanley, Ann and Riley met before school. Tiffany wasn't there since she was busy talking to the police about her father's "accident."
They sat around a bench: Jill, Eric and Stanley actually on the bench, Gale and Riley standing off to either side of it, Ann behind. Jill led the conversation.
"I think I've found out what it is that Gale's able to conjure up in her dream," she said. "Jung called it the Dream Pool."
"Jung?" Eric said.
"Yeah, Jung," Jill said. "I was reading him last night."
"You were reading Jung?"
"Why is that so hard to imagine?"
"I didn't say anything," Gale said.
"Anyway," Jill continued, "Jung called it the Dream Pool. It's sort of a collective unconsciousness. A place where all dreams connect."
"That makes a bit of sense," Eric said. "Gale was able to see my dream last night. Fuck, she was able to enter it."
"Gale can connect to this Dream Pool somehow?" Stanley said.
"Yes," Jill said. "I don't know how but she can. She can enter into our dreams."
"Enter our dreams?" Ann said. "That's crazy."
"Crazy but true," Gale said.
"So this Dream Pool," Riley said. "How can we use it?"
"Well, see," Jill said, "the Dream Pool is in all dreams. All of our dreams. We just have to find it. If we can find it, then we can meet up, join forces against Freddy."
"Right," Riley said. "But how are we supposed to fight him? If he controls the dream world, what are we gonna use against him?"
"I think I have a plan," Jill said.
"You think?" Eric said.
"Yeah, I think."
"You better be right," Riley said.
"What's the plan?" Gale asked.
"First, we need to get some Hypnocil," Jill said.
"What's that now?" Stanley said.
"It's an experimental drug. Supposed to suppress dreams."
"How is that possible?" Stanley said.
"I don't know," Jill said.
"Great," Eric said.
"Look," Jill said, "it exists. That's what's important. We need it."
"Why?" Riley said.
"So here's my plan: we have to use ourselves as bait."
"Shit..." Eric said.
"You're crazy, lady," Riley said.
"Crazy is not a strong enough word," Ann said.
"Hear me out," Jill said. "We use ourselves as bait. We lure Freddy into a place we can control."
"Where?" Gale asked.
"I don't know yet," Jill admitted.
"This isn't inspiring my confidence," Riley said.
"If we can get him into a place like that," Jill continued, "then we trap him. Create a never-ending loop, make him think he's chasing us round and round an endless hallway. Meanwhile, we dope ourselves up with Hypnocil. If we're on it long enough and Freddy is trapped, I think he'll lose his power. By then, we can all sleep soundly."
"I don't know," Eric said. "Lot of 'ifs' there."
"Plus," Riley said, "it's suicidal. How do you know we won't all die carrying out your little plan?"
"I don't," Jill said.
"Man," Riley said, speaking directly to Eric, "I told you to call me when you have a good plan. Sorry, but this ain't it. I'm outta here."
He left the group, heading for the cafeteria, Ann right behind him. Eric stood up, went to follow him.
"Eric," Jill said.
Eric turned back to face her but kept moving away, walking backwards. He put up both his hands in a resigned gesture.
"It's not gonna work, Jill," he said. "Riley's right."
Gale sat down on the bench next to Jill, taking Eric's place. Jill put her head in her hands in frustration.
"God, I'm so fucking tired," she said.
She shook her head, shook it off. The bell rang and all three of them sighed. They were not looking forward to the day ahead.
2
Ms. E, as everyone called her, was her usual fearsome self. Stanley was in theater class and Ms. E was sitting in the audience while students performed monologues on stage. The theater was impressive for a high school, with a capacity well in the hundreds, big, dramatic red curtains, and even a small balcony.
"No!" Ms. E said. "That's not the way Hamlet would say it! Now, try it again!"
Stanley waited backstage, wondering what kind of nonsense he would have to make up here. With everything that was going on, he hadn't even had a chance to memorize a monologue for class.
He looked around at his classmates and noticed, for the first time, that they were all in full costume. Medieval period, elaborate and lush.
"What the Hell's going on?" he said.
"It's opening night," Jennifer, a bubbly aspiring actress, said. "Where have you been?"
"Opening night?" Stanley said. "Of what?"
"Hamlet," Jennifer said. "What else?"
"What?"
He looked more closely at their costumes. Jennifer was clearly playing Ophelia and Stanley saw, among his classmates, a Laertes, a Polonius, a Claudius, a Gertrude, a Horatio, even the two gravediggers. But where was Hamlet?
"No," he said. "No way. Uh-uh. It's not possible."
He looked down at himself and saw that he was, indeed, Hamlet. He shook his head in disbelief.
"I'm not ready," he said desperately. "You gotta believe me. I don't know the lines! It's crazy to put me onstage now!"
"Hey," Jennifer said, "the show must go on."
She smiled, her cherubic face bright and cute and of absolutely no help at all at the moment. He was pushed onstage.
"That's you cue," Jennifer said. "Remember, 'A little more than kin and less than kind'."
He looked at her, confused, shook his head. The next moment he was onstage. The theater was packed. It looked like the whole town had shown up for the performance. He could see his parents, all his friends, all their parents. And, in the back, Ms. E. She looked at him, daggers in her eyes. Everyone waited for him to speak, all of them leaning forward, expecting him to act.
"Uh..." Stanley said, "A little more than kin and less than kind?"
Everyone winced at his delivery. It was embarrassing. The other actors onstage looked at him, horrified. After a moment, they continued and it wasn't long till Stanley was required to speak again. Again, everyone waited for him to speak.
"Um," he said. "To or not to be, that is the question?"
The young actress playing Gertrude actually fainted, right onstage. Stanley started to nervously chew his nails, sweating. He could feel all eyes on him. Everything depended on him.
"No!" Ms. E said from the audience.
She walked the aisle, coming through the audience, towards the stage. Stanley backed away, terrified of her, mortified by the embarrassment of it all. How would he be able to show his face anywhere after tonight? After he screwed up so?
Stanley backed right into the scrim at the back of the stage. Almost immediately, he disappeared into it, tangling up in it. After a moment, he managed to break free of the scrim and looked out into the audience again.
Everything had changed. Now, the theater was much more elaborate, with a mezzanine and a full balcony, private booths, opera seating. Everyone in the audience was in formal attire, immaculate, cultivated. He saw Gale and Tiffany in the audience. Gale was wearing a smart suit and Tiffany was decked out in a beautiful dress. They were clearly enjoying themselves: Gale's hand was up Tiffany's dress. Stanley looked around onstage and saw that the actors were now all adults.
And all women.
He recognized them. There was Erica Boyer, dressed up like Claudius. There was Barbara Dare playing Ophelia. There was Cristy Canyon, busting out of her costume, playing Gertrude. Traci Lords camped it up as Laertes. Lois Ayers sizzled as Horatio. A blast from the past - Brooke and Taylor Young played Rosencrantz and Guildenstern! Annette Haven was a smoldering Polonious, something Stanley never thought Polonious could be. And, finally, Jeanna Fine played a blonde, punked-up Hamlet.
All of his favorite porn stars, here together. Stanley had always rather liked Hamlet but this was definitely the best Hamlet ever! All of Shakespeare's dialogue was there - delivered unevenly, it must be said: many of the porn stars were good but some, like Lords, Dare and the Young Twins, couldn't quite make it work - but supplemented with live onstage sex. Who could ask for more?
But who was he playing?
A hand grabbed him from offstage and pulled him into the curtains. Stanley couldn't see the figure, only his hands, one of them capped with a razored glove. The hands emerged from the curtains, gesticulated at him.
"You're late for your fitting!" a voice said.
It was Freddy.
"My..." Stanley said, "my fitting?"
"You need to get into character," Freddy said.
"But who am I playing?"
"Yorick, of course!"
"But Yorick...he's just a skull!"
"Yeah, you're gonna need some time in the make-up chair, I think. But, tell you what, we don't have time for that. So I'll just improvise!"
He emerged from the curtains, cruelly laughing, razors first. Stanley screamed.
The bell rang and he was jolted awake. He looked around. He was sitting at a desk in Science class. He didn't even have Theater today.
"Jesus," he said.
3
Mid-day, between classes, Ann caught up with Riley, stopped him in a hallway connecting to the main locker area. They both looked like they were barely making it through the day. Ann had spent all of Study Hall trying not to nod off.
"Hey," she said.
"Hey yourself," Riley said.
"Making it through the day?"
"Somewhat."
"Look," Ann said, "I've been going over and going over this in head, again and again and I just don't know any other way to approach than just going for it."
"What are you talking about?" Riley said.
"It shouldn't come as any surprise to you that I...I like you."
"Well, I like you, too. No one else can keep up with me."
"That's not what I mean."
"Then what do you mean?"
She pushed him up against the wall - no mean feat considering how big he was - and kissed him. It was quite a kiss, a mixture of passion and awkwardness. One moment, Riley was fighting it, the next he was completely into it. Ann had to stand on her toes to reach his height.
The kiss finally broke and Riley just looked at her, confused. Ann looked at him wistfully. Riley shook his head.
"I..." he said. "I thought you were a dyke."
"What?" Ann said.
"This feels wrong."
"No, it's perfectly right."
"What are you saying?"
"Don't you see? We're dead, Riley. If Freddy doesn't kill all of us, we'll all be going up in a big fucking explosion, high as the sky. We'll be wiped out! So who cares?! Give me a chance. All I want to do is feel. Don't you?"
Riley shook his head again.
"No," he said. "I'm sorry. I'm gonna make it through this. So are you. We'll talk about this after this all blows over. See you around."
He pushed her out of the way and walked off. Ann took a step towards him.
"Riley," she called after him. "Riley! I love you!"
But he was gone.
4
Riley was in the restroom during his next class. He had managed to stay awake all this time. Phys Ed was next and he wondered whether he would be able to make it through that. Ann had floored him with that kiss and he didn't know how to handle her. She was an attractive girl but he didn't feel for her in that way. She wasn't the one for him.
He stood at the sink, looking at the mirror. He didn't like what he saw. There were bags under his eyes. They looked like deep, dark pockets.
"Riley," a voice called.
It sounded like a woman. Riley turned around, trying to find the source of the voice. One of the stalls behind him was open just a crack. And there was an eye peeking out of it.
"Who's that?" Riley said.
The stall door opened, revealing Jill. She nodded to him.
"What the fuck you doing in here?" Riley said.
"I had to talk to you," Jill said. "I've made a better plan."
"And it couldn't wait?"
"No, it couldn't."
"All right, well spit it out."
"Come into the stall with me."
"What?"
"Come on."
"Are you out of your mind? I can see the headline now: Black man caught with white girl in high school bathroom stall."
"It'll only take a minute," Jill said. "Nobody will find out."
She retreated into the stall, closed the door behind her. Riley sighed and followed her.
"I must be out of my mind," he said.
He opened the stall door and entered the small space. Only it wasn't small anymore.
It was a large room, red drapes and finery all around. A beautiful, no-doubt expensive, bed sat in the direct middle of it. And sprawled artfully on the bed was Jill. She was naked and everything that he had hoped she would be.
"Ah, sweet Jesus," he said.
"Come on, Riley," Jill said, "show me what a real man is like."
Riley didn't stop to think, didn't pause to consider. He simply approached the bed - approached her - undressing as he came.
"Yeah," Jill said. "That's it. Come on. I want to see it. Show it to me."
Riley dropped his pants and underwear just as he reached the bed. She spurred him on and he climbed onto the bed with her, between her legs. They were face to face and she was gorgeous, one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen in his short life. She was ready. He was ready.
Then he had a problem.
"Come on," Jill encouraged him. "What's the matter?"
"I..." Riley said. "I'm nervous, that's all."
"Nervous?! Why?"
"Well, I've always found you incredibly beautiful, Jill. I just..."
"Come on, fuck me already!"
"Yeah, Riley," a voice said, "what's the matter?"
Riley rolled off Jill, looked for the source of the voice. He soon found it: a shadow moved across the red drapes: no form, no substance, just shadow. But Riley knew who the shadow belonged to.
"Freddy," he said.
"Can't get it up, can ya?" Freddy said.
"Show yourself, Krueger."
"I thought you brothers had huge, swinging poles between your legs but look at you."
Jill laughed next to him, covering her mouth in embarrassment. She looked at him with what appeared to be pity.
"Shut up," he said. "Just shut the fuck up!"
"Oh, I think we've hit a nerve, don't you, Jill?" Freddy said.
His shadow moved again, crawling around the bed and coming to rest on the drapes directly behind the bed, above the headboard. Jill nodded in answer to his question. Riley, beyond frustrated, hit the pillow next to her head. She didn't blink.
"This is my dream," Riley said. "And I can do what I damn well please. Now I want you gone. Hear? Gone!"
Freddy's shadow slowly creeped down the curtain above the headboard as both he and Jill laughed. Soon, the shadow was gone entirely, leaving only his laughter behind.
"I told you to shut up!" Riley said but Jill wouldn't stop laughing.
He grabbed her by the shoulders, shook her. But she didn't stop laughing. She looked manic, crazy, her eyes bugging out, her mouth extended wider than what seemed possible.
"What the fuck?!" Riley said. "Shut up!"
Her skin wrinkled, severely. It now looked burned. Riley felt the cuts before he saw them. There were four of them, in his abdomen, just above his pubic bone. He looked down, saw Jill's hand - razored glove covering it - stuck halfway into him. He looked back up at her. She laughed and transformed into Freddy right in front of him.
"Fuck you," Riley managed.
"You first," Freddy said.
And pushed his hand all the way inside. Riley gasped in pain as the arm traveled up his chest cavity and into his throat. The edges of the blades poked holes in his skin, blood erupting all over the place. When Freddy had hold of what he was looking for - Riley's tongue - he ripped his hand out of the young man, taking the tongue with him.
Riley gurgled a few times and died. Freddy laughed and pushed his dead body off the bed. Then got up and threw the tongue onto his chest.
In the real world, Riley fell down in one of the bathroom stalls, his wounds from the dream very much still in evidence. The next student who came into the bathroom had a nasty shock.
5
The school was locked down for several hours. Police were called in. They canvased the area, looking for the murderer, looking for even a murder weapon.
They found nothing.
The students were kept in their classrooms, told only that an incident had occurred. But the word got around. Riley Reynolds had been murdered in one of the school bathrooms. Jill, Gale, Eric and Stanley were shaken to the very core. Ann had gone almost catatonic. Time was running short.
Once the police were done, they let the students go home. There wouldn't be anymore school today. Or the next day. For most of them, those who hadn't known Riley, it was the beginning of a long weekend.
For Jill, Gale, Eric, Stanley, Ann and Tiffany, it was the beginning of the end.
6
When Jill got home, the phone was already ringing. It was Tiffany. She had heard about what happened at school - had talked to Gale about it. They discussed it and also discussed her situation. They decided that they might be able to convince Jill's father to take her in, at least temporarily, until a foster home could be secured. It was a good idea: they could use her father's nose for a story to tempt him into accepting. They hung up after deciding on an approach for this plan.
Jill was about to leave the kitchen for her room when the phone rang again. She frowned, answered it.
"What'd you forget, Tiffany?" Jill said.
"Who's Tiffany?" Dr. Saunders answered.
"What's up, doc?" Jill said.
"That's not funny," Dr. Saunders said.
"It's kinda funny."
"I disagree."
"That's great, doc. What do you want?"
"I want to help you. I've always wanted to help you."
"Yeah, but you haven't been very good at that, lately, have you, doc?"
"No, I suppose I haven't."
"So what do want? Really."
"I've ordered a shipment of Hypnocil."
"What?"
"Hypnocil. It's the experiment drug I mentioned to you in our last session."
"I know what it is. You got some?"
"Yes. I'm ready to prescribe some for you. We just need to plan the next session."
"Of course," Jill said.
"When would be a good time for you?" Dr. Saunders asked.
"Um, I'm not sure. Let me call you back. Maybe tomorrow?"
"All right. I'll await your call."
They disconnected. Jill stood next to the phone for a moment, drumming her hands on the counter. A plan started to form in her mind.
7
Dr. Saunders put down the phone, stroked it with one longing finger. She stared at it a moment longer before heading over to a locked cabinet she kept in her office, off, away from the patients.
Unlocking it, she opened it, looked inside. There were seven bottles of Hypnocil inside the cabinet, all neatly arranged on one small shelf. But this was not what Dr. Saunders had opened the cabinet to examine.
No, what she was interested in was higher up in the cabinet, on a larger shelf, one she kept neatly dusted. It was a place reserved for something special.
On the shelf was Freddy's glove, the same glove stolen from a pawn shop the previous week.
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