Freddy Krueger, the most feared person on Elm Street. That was until the parents of this street joined together, hunted him down and burned him in his own boiler room. The same boiler room where Freddy took the many children back to. His domain of specially crafted weapons, his number one being a glove with four blades, each cut to perfection, right down to the points. The points that came in so handy for bringing lives to an end. Young lives. Innocent lives. Mainly little girls, boys as well if the hunger for power became too much to bare.
Steam pumped from the long tubes at random intervals. Tubes run up and down its length, entwining, snaking in and out of one another, bringing an even more unsafe feel to the already eerie atmosphere.
At the end of one of the tunnel like corridors surrounded by the tubes a figure sat, still, his body silhouetted by the dim light that lit the room. His fedora propped atop his head and the dim light dully lighting his red and green sweater. He sat there for many minutes, unmoving. He then raised his right hand at lightning speed, the blades shining as he twiddled his fingers. The blades scrapped across one another, metal on metal sounded. Then as quickly as he had raised the hand he opened it, blades spreading like a birds talons and slammed it down on the table in front of him.
The bladed hand scraped across the desk as the figure drew it back towards himself, leaving thin streaks in the wood, ‘I will not be defeated,’ he bellowed as he stood and tossed the table into the air. It flew with great ease against the wall where it broke, wood scattering everywhere.
He marched off down one the aisles. As he went along he reached out the bladed hand and brought the index blade down on one of the pipes. It scrapped along creating sparks as the blade made contact with the rusting metal of the pipe. It screeched in complaint at being used in such a way but the figure seemed to enjoy the noise it made, a low laugh rumbling in his throat.
He walked the length of the aisle and turned at its end. He abruptly stopped and looked round. His eyes seemed to glint in the slit of light that fell across his face. Eyes that were outlined by burnt and mangled flesh.
He began walking again, his form mixed with the shadows. Like before he halted and looked back, this time his bladed hand was raised as if ready to attack. His eyes narrowed and he glimpsed this way and that. He turned his head slightly like a dog trying to pinpoint a sound.
The noise became louder and louder until it echoed all around the boiler room. It was a voice and it kept repeating the same word, ‘Freddy.’
As he stood there the voice seemed to come at him from all directions. ‘Freddy…..Freddy….FREDDY! He twisted this way and that trying to see whoever or whatever was calling his name.
The voice grew louder and louder and eventually seized, leaving only the hissing of the steam rushing out of the cracks in the tubes.
Freddy stood a while, waiting to see if the voice would sound again…..But, nothing. He continued walking and as he did he let out a small chuckle followed by, ‘My public awaits.’
Fan based short novel based on the Nightmare on Elm Street horror series. Opening chapter of novel.