You Can Make It Up: Freddy Krueger Waits For The Kids To Fall Asleep

Snow fell softly through the charred remnants of what used to be a child’s bedroom, and somewhere in the distance, although it was hard to tell from what direction exactly, a clanking, thudding machine made ear-piercing shrieks of metal on metal at regular intervals. The shadows, which fell everywhere despite there being no determinate lightsource, were filled with the scratchings of something alive, something that waited. Freddy Krueger brushed some snow off his moth-eaten, blood-stained sweater, and looked at his G-Star Raw sports watch. 1:30PM. The kids were probably in class. Of course, they were so tired these days, you never knew when they would show up in the bloodchilling hellscape of Freddy’s nightmare realm, but he figured he probably had a little time to kill. A flake of snow hit the watchface, and Freddy quickly wiped it up with his sleeve, even though it was graded ISO 6425, pressure-resistant for dives up to 300meters.

Freddy Krueger went into the next room, which was actually a cavernous sewer tunnel with a creeping dampness, and he sat in a chair made of human hair, which screamed with the fear of a thousand souls at the slightest touch. Freddy Krueger sipped his Constant Comment Tea. There was plenty that he could and probably should be doing: making sure the showerhead in the bathroom ran with actual blood; Setting the human-bone dinner table with a platter of fresh beast parts and giant goblets of tears; Or working on his most recent shape-shifting (snake but with his face) to get the kinks out. But he so rarely got a moment to himself now that it was the busy season, that it was nice to just take some Freddy Time. Besides, everything that needed tending to would eventually be tended to, it always was.

A human head on broken dog legs ran up and bumped against Freddy’s legs. He reached down and gave it a gentle pat, accidentally slicing off an ear. The head screamed and ran off into the darkness. Freddy laughed and shook his head.

It was weird when it got so quiet in the nightmare realm. Of course, it was anything but quiet. Cries, grunts, a door slam, glass shattering, and always the dripping of some kind of viscous liquid. But, you know, relatively speaking it was quiet. Freddy stretched out and closed his eyes, and for the first time in a long time, Freddy Krueger, the terror of the Springwood adolescent population’s unconscious, himself drifted into sleep.

Freddy was in the passenger seat of a car. His best friend, Paul, was driving, although Freddy noticed that Paul wasn’t touching the steering wheel. They were on their way to the airport. “SPRING BREAK!” Freddy Krueger shouted out the window. Then he was on a beach. Paul was out in the water. Freddy watched as some co-eds walked by. “Sup, ladies,” Freddy Krueger barked at them. They giggled and ran off. Freddy adjusted his swimsuit. The water was turquoise and serene. He dug his finger-knife-gloves into the sand, which was warm from the sun. A waiter passed by with a tray of Coco-locos. Freddy tried to flag him down, but when the waiter turned, he began to scream, and now the waiter’s arms were severed and flopping in the sand, the Coco-locos leaking out onto the beach, and the ocean had turned blood red. Paul was screaming too, now, but Freddy couldn’t find him. Freddy realized he had not packed his glasses before leaving for the trip. He was virtually blind without his glasses, what had he been thinking. “Help me, bro!” Paul shouted, somewhere. “HELP ME, DUDE!”

Freddy awoke with a start. What a beautiful dream. He closed his eyes and tried to get back to the wonderful, horrible beach, but he slowly realized that he was no longer relaxing in his bone-chair down in the sewer tunnel. He seemed to have walked in his sleep into the gymnasium. The air was filled with thick black smoke, as it was supposed to be, and the bleachers were filled with the same faceless people turning their heads back and forth as if following an invisible game as always. Nothing was out of the ordinary. He turned towards the gaping black abyss that yawned forever and ever, and his foot slipped in a puddle of blood and bile and hair and teeth. He was home.

“OK, Freddy Krueger,” Freddy Krueger said to himself, shaking himself awake. “I hope you are refreshed, little prince. But the kids will be asleep any minute.” And Freddy Krueger got back to work. So many chores! So little time!