❝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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" So that's how that feels "
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
A PAIR of chunky, pink sneakers hit the forest floor with urgency. Curly brown hair whipped in the breeze, and every so often, a tan hand jutted out to shove a branch out of her way. Sweat dripped down her face, tears clouded her vision, and the blood of her friends clung to her skin like an oddly specifically named perfume from a beauty supply store.
Unlike most who had been in this predicament (and most who would come after), she hadn't tripped once. She knew how to run—Freddy could see it in her stride.
Let's call her... Nancy. Not because it was her name, but because it was the first person Freddy could think of as he watched her run through the woods from his temporary lookout spot on the balcony of the lake house. Same curly hair, same body, same scream. He would've thought they were the same girl, too, if he hadn't killed her already.
He sucked his teeth, a bit bitter he wasn't the one doing the chasing. Or the killing.
In the house behind him, he could make out the sounds of Michael wreaking havoc on the few adolescents that remained inside. There'd been three of them; two boys and a girl. The girl was drunk, damn near unconscious. The two boys were high and crowded around a video game system yelling at each other. They hadn't heard Michael come in, and they hadn't heard him kill the girl. The Haddonfield killer was in the middle of killing the two boys when Freddy stepped outside for air.
He would have joined in, but killing people who could fight back had never been his style when he was a human. They had to be drunk (like Mr. Underwood) or a child (like Nancy's older brother).
So Freddy watched, boredom clear on his face, as Jason followed "Nancy." His movements were slow, much like molasses. His right leg went up, his left leg came down, the right came up again, and the left went down again. The steady rhythm brought him back to his glory days, and the more he stared, the more comfortable he became. His coat seemingly became a blanket.
