by A. Eggleston
Faith instantly felt a rush of embarrassment wash over her. She felt like slapping herself across the face. God, I am a dumb-ass. she thought. She looked at both Evelyn and Steven, who sat in front of her. She stuttered at first. "I--um--I'm sorry." she admitted.
Evelyn glanced at her through the rear view mirror. She knew what Faith meant. Evelyn was used to her saying whatever came to mind. Sometimes, she had a filter. Other times, she just said the first thing she thought of. "It's okay." she assured her. "We know you didn't mean anything by it."
"I just...I can't believe they're gone." said Faith.
Evelyn replied. "Yeah." she said solemnly. "We know how you feel."
"Evelyn, could you slow down a bit?" Steven said. "You're driving like a maniac."
She turned to look at Steven, and shot him a dirty look, before locking her eyes back on the road. "We have to get to Ash as soon as possible, alright?"
"Well, it's gonna be kinda hard to do that if you flip this tin can over."
Faith pushed herself off from her seat and poked her head out from between the two of them, propping her elbows on both of their seats. "Guys," Faith said as she stared at the road that seemed to propel toward them. She had a tough time finding her balance at first. "I'd hate to sound really cheesy right now, but...what is our plan, exactly?"
Evelyn mashed her lips together, as if it were a reaction to her unwillingness to admit that she had nothing. Begrudgingly, she told them, "I don't really know right now." She didn't have to look at them to know that they were giving her the same look that she gave Steven not too long ago. "But, I know we have to find some way to get Ash out of there. We need him to get the book."
"Oh, sure." Steven sounded nonchalant, but Evelyn knew he was being overtly sarcastic. "Let me just reach in my wallet for the bail money." He got his wallet out and unfolded it. "What do you think, Evelyn? Is twenty-eight dollars gonna be enough? Maybe if I throw in a gift card. That should do it, huh?"
Faith gave him a punch in the shoulder. "Fine!" she said. "You come up with something!"
Steven didn't say a word. Instead, he leaned back into his seat and stared out the window. He couldn't come up with anything either, and he felt awful because of it.
Faith sat back in her seat while Evelyn spoke to them. "I'm just as angry about this as you are, but I don't know what else there is to do."
The entire time they had been driving, Faith couldn't help but stare at the dirty sheet on the floor. It seemed to cover something, but she didn't know what it was. She decided to ask Evelyn. "Hey," she said to get her attention. "do you know what's under this sheet?"
Evelyn had never noticed it before, so when Faith mentioned it, she was especially curious. Since yesterday, Evelyn wondered what Ash had kept hidden in the backseat. "No, I don't." she said. "Why don’t you check and see? I‘m kind of curious."
As Faith lifted the white sheet, which was stained with dirt and spots of dried blood, she overheard Steven continue to bug Evelyn about her driving.
"I'm just saying, I think I should drive. With the speed that you're going, one sharp turn, and this car's flying."
After lifting the sheet, Faith found a large duffel bag on the floor. She grabbed it and tried to lift it, and was surprised as to how heavy it was. It felt like someone had packed a couple of bricks in it. She was able to eventually lift it up and plant it on the seat to her right.
Evelyn sniped at Steven while Faith examined the bag. "Can you please just relax, Steven? Do you know how many times I've driven the El Camino? This thing really isn't any different."
"Why would Ash drive this piece of crap anyway?" he groaned. "If he hunts demons all day, shouldn't he be in something more high-tech?"
Faith unzipped the duffel bag and opened it wide to see what was inside.
"I don't know." Evelyn replied. "Why don't you ask him when we get there?"
When she looked inside, she was baffled at what she found. In the duffel bag contained Ash's trusty chainsaw, his Boomstick, and his newest edition, the pump-action shotgun. There were also three boxes of shotgun shells, two of which were empty.
The first thing that came out of her mouth was, "Whoa!"
Evelyn and Steven ceased their arguing to acknowledge Faith.
"What's in it?" asked Evelyn.
Still in shock, Faith exclaimed, "Ash is packin'!"
"What? You mean guns?" asked Steven. "What kind of stuff's in it?"
Faith listed each item in the bag to Evelyn and Steven. "Let's see." she said, almost giddy. "We have two shotguns, some ammo," she grinned at the last item in Ash's artillery. "and a motherfuckin’ chainsaw!"
"What?" Steven whipped around to see them for himself. When he saw the double-barrel, the pump shotgun, and the chainsaw, his first reaction was, "Nice." But then he realized, Wait. I don't know how to use either of those things.
"Great." said Evelyn. "So what do we do with them?"
Faith joked. "Use the shotgun to blow a hole in the wall, then saw the bars to break him out?"
"Come on, Faith. I'm serious." she said. "If something happens to us, or Ash, we need to figure out how to use those weapons."
"Speaking of which," Steven added. "Do you even know where you're going?"
Evelyn was growing tiresome of Steven constantly nitpicking her every move. And she wasn't in the condition to tolerate criticism. "Yes, Steven." she said through gritted teeth. "The police station's just a few blocks away."
Steven leaned back in his seat, groaned, and rubbed his eyelids.
She became anticipatory. She knew that in less than a few minutes, they would be at the police station and they would be one step closer to finding Ash. She actually started to feel calm. The same feeling she wished Steven shared with her.
As she stared down the road, looking within the range that the headlights and streetlamps allowed her to see, she noticed something in the distance. She squinted her eyes, and leaned in to focus. It appeared to be people, and lots of them, out in the middle of the street downtown. "What are all these people doing here?" She blinked her eyes a few times, making sure that she actually saw what she thought she was seeing. Evelyn was definitely seeing people at the end of the block, probably ten of them, lined out in the middle of the street. They were blocking their path. "Hey," she said to alert Steven and
Faith. "do you guys see that?"
Evelyn began to slow down as both of them confirmed her suspicions.
"What the hell are they doing there?" asked Faith.
"There just...standing there...waiting, or something." she observed.
Steven tapped her on the shoulder. "Get a closer look at them." he said. "Turn on your brights."
Evelyn pulled the handle toward her, turning on the brights. She had slowed down to about ten miles per hour by this time.
Now that they were completely visible, the three of them could see that these were not ordinary people. Each and every one of them looked disfigured, grotesque, and hungry. They were Deadites. Every last one of them. And their pale eyes, which seemed to glow in the night, were locked on the three of them.
Evelyn stopped the car completely, and felt her whole body freeze.
Faith leaned in close to the two of them, she looked mortified. "What are those things?"
"This is why we need Ash." Evelyn said.
Steven grabbed Faith's hand and held it tightly. "God," he gasped. "there's so many of them." he turned to Faith. "Do we have enough bullets?"
Faith reached into the bag and found the boxes of shells. She threw out the two empty ones. "I don't know." she said disappointingly. "There's only one box left."
"Oh, come on!" yelled Steven. "Who only packs one friggin' box!"
Faith snapped. "Just shut up and help me load this!" she handed him the double-barrel and two shells. Faith resumed loading the pump shotgun. I would give anything to be anywhere but here right now.
Evelyn watched them move towards the car. "They're getting closer." she said. "I'll back up, and you guys r
oll down your windows." Evelyn grabbed the handle and prepared to change gears.
CRASH!!!
Something landed on the hood of the Delta 88. The three of them gasped and the force of the crash almost made them fall out of their seats. It was like whatever it was had fallen from the sky.
Simultaneously, the three of them looked up and saw that the front window had been cracked jaggedly from corner to corner. The hood was dented. Crouched like a gargoyle atop the hood of Ash's Oldsmobile, was a scowling Freddy Krueger. His eyes glowed in the night, like a monster hiding in the trees. The rims of his eyes and the corners of his mouth were inky black and his burn marks had become even more red and made him appear more demonic. He showed his bloody, fanged teeth to them, which made them scream.
I just love it when they scream.
He looked intensely at Evelyn. He tilted his head, and lifted his gloved hand and bobbed the knives up and down, waving at her. Then, he flicked his tongue like a snake. A filthy, perverted, snake.
Evelyn switched the gearshift to Reverse. "Bastard!" she yelled at him as she took her foot off of the brake. She punched the accelerator and sped in reverse. Inertia caused the three of them to lean forward a few inches.
Freddy was knocked off of the hood and rolled onto the road.
Evelyn turned the car at an angle and stomped on the brakes. The side that had the rolled-down windows now faced Freddy. She turned to both of her friends. "Shoot him!" she ordered. "Now!"
They did what Evelyn told them to. Steven and Faith both stuck the shotguns out of the window and aimed at Freddy. At the same time, they both pulled the trigger. The two shotgun blasts sounded like one.
BOOM!!!
They managed to hit him. Shotgun ammo had been sprayed all over Freddy's chest. Blood sprayed from his wounds, and he bled like a waterfall. But he was still standing up, like it didn't affect him at all. He looked injured, but they were sure that the blast should have killed him, or at least knocked him down.
Evelyn turned to another street while Steven and Faith panicked.
"He's still alive." Steven announced in awe.
"What do we do now?" Faith asked.
"I'm going another way. I think we can lose them." she said, and proceeded to find an alternate route to the Springwood PD.
Freddy ran his left hand across his chest, feeling the warm blood that excreted from him. He held his wet, bloody hand up to his face and looked in disdain. That fucking hurt like hell. He grimaced and lowered his hand, balling it up into a fist. He watched the little brats as they drove away. After they had escaped, Freddy turned his attention to the group of Deadites wandering around, looking for fresh meat. "Ah..." Freddy said to himself. "I think I have an idea."
And just as quickly as he appeared, Freddy faded away from the waking world and returned back to the dream world, his lair, where he would plot his next move.
Chapter Twenty Four
Freddy strolled down the walkways of the now cavernous boiler room. The sound of his leather work boots landing against the grate echoed, joining the atmospheric back round of the roaring fire from the furnaces, and the steam hissing from the pipes on the boilers that filled the room. The bullet wounds in his chest were still fresh. Wherever he walked, Freddy left droplets of his own blood behind him. Amongst the chorus of dissonant noises, the echoing cries of tortured, infant, children could faintly be heard.
The boiler room had expanded to more than twice the size of the demolished power plant on the edge of town. It was spacious, but at in most areas, filled with tight corners that made it easy for anyone to get lost in. The more lives Freddy took, the stronger he became, and his boiler room slowly transformed into a rusty, metal version of Hell itself.
The pipes had begun to resemble large columns that lined next to each other, spewing fire at the top ends. The grated walkways seemed to stretch for miles.
The boiler room appeared to be roughly five stories tall. A few metal chains hung down from the ceiling, but it was so high that none of them reached the floor. The flames that surrounded the room gave the entire place a reddish glow.
The nightmare killer slowly descended down each flight of stairs until he was at the very heart of his lair. A thick, gray, mist engulfed the floor. Freddy looked down to examine the shotgun wound in his chest. He had already stopped bleeding, and the bullet holes were beginning to recede. As long as Freddy was in his world, he could not be harmed, and his injuries were able to heal quickly. And now that he had the Necronomicon, even in the land of the living, his strength continued to grow. But still, two shotgun shells in the chest still hurt like a bitch.
Freddy disappeared in the corner. He ventured into a dark and shameless area that only the unlucky have seen. In the middle of this area was a cellar door that led further down. Down to a place where Freddy used to slowly cut and slice the children of Springwood. It was also where the Necronomicon was kept, buried beneath the floor.
When Freddy was alive, he had no idea the malevolent powers that was hidden beneath his own feet. Only after that fateful night when the parents of the murdered children came for him, did he discover the spirits trapped within the book, and become part of it as well. The dark spirits: not just the Deadites, but also the trio of Dream Demons that hunted for the sickest, most evil soul on earth to do their will, lived inside the pages of the Necronomicon. That was when Freddy knew of the book's wicked powers. And after years of defeat and being sent back to the dark bowers of Hell, did he decide to go to the ultimate source of evil, and become the most powerful Deadite of them all.
With a simple flick of one of the knives on Freddy's glove, the cellar door was opened by an unseen force. Freddy had become so powerful that he barely had to lift a finger to do move objects around. He descended down the steps of the cellar, and was brought deep down into an area filled with memories of torture, agony, and the theft of innocence.
In the middle of the cellar was an area similar to the boiler room, only smaller in size. In the corner was a workbench where Freddy had built his infamous glove. A few pieces of scrap metal, copper from the plating, spare steak knives, a hammer, and a rivet tool still laid out on the bench. All around the cellar were various items that once belonged to Freddy's previous victims. They were trophies of his gruesome killings.
In one corner was a small bed with white sheets and a blue cover, stained with the blood of fifteen-year-old Tina Grey. Freddy had dragged her up the wall and across the ceiling of her bedroom, all the while gutting her like a fish. Once he was done with her, he dropped her onto her bed. She splashed into a pool of her own blood. Freddy walked by the bed, noting the blood-stained wooden cross in the very center of Tina's bed that she used to hang on her wall for protection.
Next, was a pair of headphones that sat on a table next Tina's bed. The headphones were green, at least, they used to be until they were bathed in the blood of another poor victim of his, Glen Lantz. Glen made the mistake of falling asleep while in bed, so Freddy dragged him down and spit him back up. As he recalled, Glen's blood gushed out like Old Faithful.
On the wall next to the headphones, was a puppet hanging on Marionette strings. It belonged to a Westin Hills patient named Joey. Freddy sliced little Joey up and used his own nerve endings as puppet strings. He led him up to the tallest point of the hospital, and once Freddy separated his ties from him, Joey took a long fall to his death.
Another item on the table was an inhaler that belonged to a Springwood High student named Sheila. Poor Sheila had asthma, so Freddy thought he would give her the "kiss of death". The bastard literally sucked the life out of her.
And, separated from most of the items on the table, like it was given a special place of its own, was a lock of white hair from Nancy Thompson. Nancy was the daughter of Don and Marge, two of the parents who burned him. Nancy was so sweet and innocent, but Freddy doubted how tough she was. He might of been able to frighten her and kill those around her, but Nancy refused to go down without a fight, even in t
he end. Even though she had escaped his clutches once, she still couldn't save herself while protecting the children of Elm Street.
Finally, at the very end of the table, was a chipped off piece of a hockey mask that belonged to his most previous enemy: Jason Voorhees. A part of Jason's mask had chipped away during battle. Even though the dumb fuck is still alive, Freddy kept it anyway. It reminded him how easy it was to manipulate his victims.
In the very center of his shrine was the Book of the Dead sitting on a small bench. It seemed to stare at him, the human skin that materialized it seemed to resemble a face that expressed both evil and torment.
Freddy stood before it, grazing the book with his knives. His eyes, fixed upon the book, glowed eerily in the darkness. His voice was low and monstrous. "Let's see..." he murmured, speaking to the book. "What can I do with you?" Freddy sliced the cover of the book as he brought the gloved hand close to him and wriggled the knives. "You've given me another chance at life, even given me pawns to collect more souls for me." he said, referring to the Deadites that became of his victims. "But, what am I gonna do about Ash..." Freddy scowled and clenched his left hand into a fist. "That arrogant son of a bitch." He flicked the knife on his index finger, opening the book to the passage that contained the three Dream Demons, the ones who gave him the job in the first place.
At that moment, the pages glowed, and three serpentine spirits lifted themselves from the pages of the book and hovered before him. They appeared in a veil of glowing orange light. The demons had the bodies of a snake, skeletal heads, and soulless black eyes. The three of them floated around Freddy's face. When they spoke, it sounded like an echoing hiss.
"It's been a long time since we last saw each other, Freddy." said the demon as it wrapped itself around Freddy's glove.
Annoyed, Freddy immediately shook it off of him.
"Have you called upon our services once more?" said one demon that floated behind his head.
Freddy brushed the Dream Demons away from him. "I don't need you worms anymore!" he said. "I've found my own way back to the waking world."