Freddy vs. Jason vs. Ash

Raoul's Nightmare

Raoul woke up to find everyone still asleep. Even Ash was passed out in the chair in the corner; the fire had nearly gone out, too.

"Oh, shit," Raoul yawned as he searched his jacket for his baggie. He pulled it out, only to realize he had less than half a gram left. "Damn, did I really smoke it all already? Gotta get some more..."

He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through his contacts, looking for his dealer. But most of his contacts were gone, replaced by someone named "Freddy."

Only giving the briefest of pauses, Raoul gave a mental "fuck it" and texted this "Freddy" person to ask if he had anything.

Raoul: Yo! You carrying?

It wasn't but a few seconds before "Freddy" replied: Everything but coke, heroin, and your cock! LOL!

Raoul smiled: Can I get an ounce?

Freddy: Sure thing! Where at?

Raoul texted the address and hit send. Three seconds later, there was a knock at the door.

"What the...?" Raoul looked around; nobody else was stirring, so he got up and headed for the front door. Upon opening it, he was greeted by a man with a burnt face partially covered by a mop of dirty, long, dreadlocked hair and a battered fedora hat. Everything about this man screamed "hippie," from the red-and-green tie-dyed "Fred-Head" shirt to the rose-colored John Lennon-style glasses and the bandana on his forehead.

"You Fred?" Raoul asked him.

"In the flesh," he responded.

"Damn, you got here fast!"

"I was in the neighborhood, man!" Fred chuckled. He stepped into the living room, and looked around at the people sleeping.

"Oh, we can go into the kitchen back here. There's a dining table we can do business at."

"Works for me! Lead the way," he said, following Raoul into the kitchen table. Fred then clunked down a small travel bag and opened it up. He sat down at a chair, as did Raoul, and pulled out a few bags, as well as a scale. So, you said you were looking for an ounce?"

Raoul nodded.

"Well, what do you want? I got California Catatonic," Fred said as he pulled out a bag with a label. For each one he read off, he set another bag down on the table. "I got Pineapple Express, Purple Haze, Trainwreck, Shrek, Dream Master, New Nightmare! I've even got this!" Fred pulled out another baggie, this one with a bright red label. "It's a special blend of my own. I call it Springwood Slasher!"

Fred sat the bag on the table and Raoul reached for it, but Fred slapped his hand away! Raoul drew back and winced, noticing a slight cut on the backside of his hand.

"Oh, I don't think you have what it takes to handle the Springwood Slasher!" Fred said sternly. Raoul was slightly disappointed, but then a smile crossed Fred's lips. "Oh, what the hell? You know how to roll?"

"Do I know how to roll?" Raoul said. He pulled out a pack of rolling papers and began humming a tune while he rolled the fatty. "Roll, roll, roll your joint, twist it at the end! Take a puff! Cough! That's enough; and pass it to a friend!" When he was done, he proudly held it up for Fred to examine.

"My, my, that's one of the most beautiful joints I've ever seen." He beamed like a proud father, handing the joint back. "Here, I'll let you do the honors!"

"With pleasure," Raoul said as he put the joint to his lips. He lit the joint and pulled back a long drag, feeling the smoke fill his lungs. He held it there and counted off...

After several seconds, he slowly exhaled; as he did, the smoke began taking on weird shapes. They looked like... like people. Unmistakably, they looked like people! Glowing eyes, arms reaching out to him for help, screaming and pleading!

Raoul blinked and looked up at Fred, who was looking on with an expectant smile.

"Dude... this is some awesome shit!" Raoul exclaimed!

Fred nodded in eager agreement. "Well come on! Puff-puff-pass, motherfucker!"