❝You with me, or against me?❞
Cheyenne can't sleep, Dakota has a girl straight out of a video tape in his closet, and Alana's (probably) going to be eaten AKA just the consequences of having Freddy Krueger as a father.
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A NIGHTMARE ON ELM ST...
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"I don't live here to get mindfucked, Cannibal."
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
THE INK hadn't yet dried on the final line of the final page of Freddy's conveniently colored red and green notebook when the door to the spare bedroom opened. It had a problem with the hinges; it creaked something fierce whenever it was opened or closed, no matter how much (or how little) force you used. His host could fix it in ten seconds with a can of oil and a step ladder, but Hannibal Lecter's specialty was cooking, not fixing things.
A lot had happened in the eight years since Freddy had lost his powers. One minute he was irrationally angry, throwing pillows, vases, and Hannibal's expensive cutlery all over the high-rise apartment. The next, he sat peacefully, staring at the ceiling and wondering aloud, "Why me?"
He wasn't sure who he was talking to in those moments. He knew God was forgiving, but he didn't think he was the kind of person that deserved it. Or the kind of person someone like God would waste his time listening to.
Hannibal Lecter was in the right place at the right time. When Freddy awoke after his deprivation, free of burns (and clothes), he was in a forest. He later learned he was in New York City—Central Park, to be exact. Hannibal just so happened to be walking his little ball of shit under the cover of early morning shadows. He offered Freddy a place to stay, and Freddy accepted. It wasn't like he had anywhere else to go.
That, of course, had been eight years ago. Freddy knew he'd overstayed his welcome, but the way he saw it, if Hannibal had a problem, he could tell him to leave. That wasn't saying Freddy would go, fuck no, why would he? Free utilities, food, and entertainment? He'd be stupid.
"You need to eat," the accented voice of the psychiatrist entered Freddy's ears.
He didn't acknowledge it. He kept his eyes trained on the notebooks before him. One was labeled 'children' and the other 'suspects'. 'Suspects' had formerly said 'pieces of shit I'd like to see strung up by their balls' but Hannibal found it a few weeks back and urged him to change it. He said it'd speed along the healing process. Freddy wasn't too sure about that one.
"Freddy?"
Freddy let the pen fall from his fingers. He turned his head slightly, catching a glimpse of a plate in Hannibal's hands. He made a face. "Is it human?"
