Sunday, 2 May 2010
01:45:09 AM (GMT)
Chris walked past his parents and went inside the house. They had to move away from
L.A. for this, a simple little town with a mediocre existence? So what if it had been
revamped the past few years, it was still a no nothing town. Chris looked at the
white house, with its green roof, and the red little door; it made him sick. What did
I do to deserve this?
He walked into the house and set his things down. As he walked back out, he spied
some kids gawking at him and pointing at his house.
"Great, even the locals hate it. Whoopee!"
He went back inside, "Mom, dad! Can I go talk to those kids outside?" He looked at
them strangely, ", ok I'm going to take that as a yes." He watched as they continued
to just stand and watch him leave as though it were "Leave it to Beaver" time.
As soon as he walked out, he saw the kids were gone. He walked down the sidewalk and
suddenly felt very cold. He walked down the street and looked both ways when he heard
light humming, "What the fuck?" He swung around and jumped back when he saw the
little girl. "God kid, you scared me."
The little girl giggled, "Sowwy."
"It's ok." He looked at her. "What are you doing here kid? This is my home now."
The girl giggled once more. Chris was getting annoyed. He sighed a big sigh and said,
"So what's your name kid?"
She gave him a big smile and said, "Debbie."
"That's a pretty name." He said trying to be nice.
"What are you doing here?" He asked the girl, who sat on her knees drawing on the
sidewalk with her jump rope by her side.
"Waiting for Freddy."
"Is he your brother or something?"
She giggled again.
Then the rain began to drip, the sky darkened, began to thunder and cackle, then the
girl disappeared. "Fuck me," he said and ran to the front of his looked different.
However, he couldn't think about that right now, right now it was about being dry.
As soon as he was inside, he noticed his parents were gone. "That's weird. Mom! Dad!"
He ran up a few steps and called again, nothing. He turned back around and quickly
exclaimed, "Well so much for family time." He smiled evilly, "Oh what a shame."
He ran into the kitchen and an odious stench permeated through the room. "What the
hell is that?" He said as he put the back of his wrist to his nose and tried to
He walked towards the refrigerator, and placed his hand on the lever when he noticed
how sticky and warm it felt. He let go and on his hand, he saw red thick blood, which
began shaking at the sight of the crimson fiend that he now noticed dripped onto the
floor, seeping through the crack of the refrigerator door.
What the hell is going on, he thought, if this is a joke, it's seriously not funny.
He cautiously opened the refrigerator door and let out a yelp. His father dwelled
within the and pieces.a leg in the fruit basket.a hand in the butter head on the main
food tray, garnished with cabbage and tomatoes, cauliflower, and as a finishing
touch, an apple was stuffed in his father's mouth as it sat on a silver platter.
Chris backed away slowly, covering his mouth with his un-blooded hand and tried hard
not to scream.
He ran to the door saying, "Oh shit," and tried to run out the door, but he was lead
back to the living room. "Ok," he turned way out."
He walked upstairs and turned into his room, maybe there was a way out there.
He walked through and found himself in a boiler room. He walked on; sweat was all
over his body, whereas a minute ago, he had been freezing. He walked through chains
and he looked down-he was in his pajamas. "What the.."
Suddenly a big bang came from the other side of the room and he jumped. He cautiously
walked on, his bare feet hurting with every step.
"Chris." a light voice cried out in a taunting tone.
He whipped around, no one.
He walked heard his name was called again, only this time followed with a chuckle
that compared to a sucking chest wound. He tried his hardest to stay together, but a
guy could only take so much.
"Hello." he called out, "is someone there?"
No one replied and he relaxed, stepping back, until he suddenly stepped onto
The hidden assailant grabbed the back of Chris's neck and licked his cheek, "Let's
Suddenly Chris heard the flick of the man's glove that had knives for fingers.
Horrible burns covered the man's face. He wore a dirty green and red sweater, and a
dusty brown hat.
As the man's glove came closer to his the while he was screaming and trying to wiggle
away he managed to yell, "Who the fuck are you, you son of a bitch?"
"Your worst nightmare," the burned man declared chuckling as his words lingered in
the air, and suddenly Chris abruptly woke up.
Chris's breathing was heavy and hard; sweat riddled his body causing his sheets to
become drenched and soaked. His mother rushed in with worry, ", what's wrong?"
"Nothing," he said. " a bad dream."
She stared at him in surprise and gave him a stern, yet horrified look.
"I know, mom, I know. You don't have to tell me. I'm sorry I didn't do it."
"Just don't forget to." She smiled at him and said, "Will you be ok?"
She nodded and sighed in relief, "Good, then maybe we can get a good night's rest,
one of us has school tomorrow." Chris cringed, Oh yay, he thought as he watched him
mother stand up and leave, zigzagging through the maze of boxes.
The spring day shone brightly, and the fresh air was bittersweet. God, what is it
about this town, Chris thought. He watched as students went to and from the quad, and
watched the "happy people" joke and smile.
Oh yea, he was going to have fun in such a happy place.
He never understood why people were and sister sunshineish. It was like a Stepford
Town. He didn't like this place; there was just something about it, call it aura, or
call it karma who the hell knew, he just knew he didn't like this place; especially
Chris hiked up the steps of Springwood High School and watched as everyone stared at
him. "I hate being new."
"It gets easier," someone replied from behind.
"Excuse me?" Chris turned around and looked to the new comer. The mystery voice
walked toward him wearing blue jeans, a yellow T-shirt, with a black shirt over it,
as well as black leather boots, and jacket. His hair was black and blue, and on his
face, he wore a nose and brow ring.
"What gets easier?"
"The staring," he said with a chuckle. "As you can see, I get lots of it."
"Yeah, but your sense of style is impeccable."
The two laughed and hugged a bit. "So how's my little cousin handling being the new
Chris punched him in the arm lightly, "Why George Randall, do I sense mockery in your
"But of course," he said in the fakest French accent.
"I see you still are the same drama queen. So what's the what here at this poor
excuse for a school?"
George laughed. "Dude, don't call me George. It's Spike fucker, learn to deal with
"First off, you're avoiding the question, and secondly, I'll call you whatever the
hell I damn well please. I've known you since diaper days, I'm entitled to
embarrassing you in front of your ." He smirked.
"Fine, but when I kick your ass don't go cryin' to mama. You hear?"
"Duly noted. So what are the inner workings of the school?"
Spike sighed, "Be careful. People are vicious here."
Chris laughed. "People here? Vicious?"
Spike looked at him sincerely, "They're into making fun of new kid. And people who ."
He looked away.
"God kid what's wrong?"
"You mean your parents didn't tell you?"
"Tell me what?"
Great the kid doesn't know the town history, he thought.
"No, you have something face."
Fuck what to say, he thought. Finally, he said, "Just that a couple of new kids were
badly hurt because they were new."
"Ok," Chris replied a bit confused, "well whatever. Anything else?"
"Well looky here. A new guy. With the riffraff. How quaint."
"What the." Chris spun around to see a tall guy, a football jock wearing jeans and
his letterman jacket.
"Eric come on, let's just leave this one alone. Sorry." The girl next to him replied
as she dragged him off to class.
"Stay away from them," Spike quickly added when they were gone.
"Who are they?"
"Founders of 'Make Fun of the New Kid' Club."
"Who are they." Chris said flatly and looked at him.
"Eric "THE A-BOMB" Stutzman, and his girlfriend Karen Jennings."
They walked on, but Eric snuck a look back at Spike and Chris, and then back at Spike
who looked away and tugged Chris into their first class.
* * * * *
She walked through the long corridor of the house.
The darkened light and the stillness of the air crippled her with fear.
It was quiet.
A little too quiet.
Broken mirrors riddled the crimson walls.
Suddenly a sharp and excruciating pain filled her leg, and she fell back as she cried
out withering in pain.
Erika felt her foot lightly and pulled out a large shard of glass. Once she was able
to withdraw the shard she limped out of the corridor.
As she limped through the labyrinth, she heard chuckling each time it grew closer and
screeching like nails on a chalkboard began to fill her ears. Suddenly she found
herself running despite the pain coursing through her leg.
She stopped to catch her breath and looked back.
All of a sudden, a hand grabbed her by the neck and lifted her up into the air, her
feet dangling as blood dripped from her wounded foot.
The burned man looked into her eyes and grinned evilly.
"No," was all she managed to utter as the man continued to grin.
Without warning, the scenery changed, and bright white filled the room.
A long, thin, black walkway strip ran from wall to wall.
He held her over the edge.
Erika couldn't look down, she was too afraid because she knew these few moments would
be her last. She gripped the man's arms, yelling in hysterics, "No! Please! Oh Please
"He can't help." She heard the man shout as he continued smirking and he let go, but
she continued to hold onto his sleeves and grip his arm.
He extended his clawed hand and slashed the girl's face.
She freed him as the blood spilled and splattered onto his hands.
He watched as she screamed and he watched her descend and slam into large shards of
broken glass. He watched in ecstasy as her eyes bulged, her body spasm, and blood
expelled and flowed from her mouth. He saw the large glass protruding from the girl's
chest and abdomen, and he became as giddy as a schoolgirl.
Slowly and eerily, the white room dimmed into a slight crimson glow.
He licked the blood off his fingers and ripped into laughter full of ecstasy over his
kill and roared, "Freddy's back!"
Chris watched him laugh and stared as the man turned to look at him; again, the man
devilishly grinned and whispered "Soon."
Suddenly his hand extended toward Chris along the twenty-foot walkway and slashed his
"No!" Chris yelled as he thrashed from side to side.
"Chris!" The teacher shouted as he grabbed Chris's shoulders.
Chris woke up and watched as the class stared at him and heard the teacher exclaim,
"Your arm," and faint at the sight of the blood.
Chris woozily stood up and looked at his arm and said, "It was just a dream." and
passed out next to Mr. Gonzalez, the biology teacher.
* * * * *
Spike strutted down the halls of the hallway thinking, Ditching class; a time-honored
tradition. He smiled to himself as he passed the mirror in the hall, and then
He liked his life, of course, secrets and immoral liaisons consumed most of it, but
it was his life, and he loved it. Although he did sometimes just want to run away
from this thing called life, and go.
Somewhere where things could be different.
A place where he wouldn't have to walk around with fear and in constant heartache, as
his loved one was with someone else.
He walked for a while with this sudden expression of light melancholy when he heard
the yelling and two thuds from a classroom ahead.
He ran toward the classroom and saw Chris along with the biology teacher sprawled on
the floor and a pool of blood forming around Chris's arm. Spike gasped and shouted,
"Call the nurse!"
Within moments, he came with gauze and medication. Two students helped him get Chris
into his office, and by now, the class had ended and students from all classes
bunched up to see what the commotion was all about as the teacher was brought out of
his slightly comatose behavior.
Spike watched as the blood drip past him and he backed into the lockers holding back
from throwing up on the floor.
He hated the site of blood.
While the nurse told the students to get back to class, he breathed slowly to get
over the queasy feeling at the pit of his stomach. Suddenly a hand grabbed his arms
and dragged him into an empty classroom.
"What the hell?" Spike said as he turned around swiftly, only to be met with a kiss
on the lips. Once they parted, Spike looked up and said, "Oh, well.I guess you could
do that," and grinned. Then pushed the aforementioned assailant away and said, "No
not now, I have to go to Chris, make sure he's alright."
Eric looked at him, "Why? I mean, he's with the nurse.I think he's in pretty good
hands." Eric tried to go to him, but Spike evaded him, "Because he's my cousin.
Family. You do remember what that means right?"
Eric stared at him, "Of course I know what it means; it's those things on TV right?
The Brady Bunch?" He smiled at Spike who obviously thought his witty humor was funny
because he was trying very hard to contain his smile.
"Look, I really have to go. I'll see you tonight right?"
Eric gave him a serious look, "You haven't told little cousin over there about us
have you?" Despite their avid love for each other, Eric had an overwhelming need to
seem remotely normal.
Spike found it oddly cute.
Everyone, well almost everyone, knew about Spike, at least the friends he had did-no
one else really much cared.
He liked it that way; no fuss, no muss.
"No," he moved closer to Eric, "your shameful secret is still just that." Quickly
Spike faked a sad puppy dog look. Eric watched him and said, "No fair, you know I
can't take the face. And you're not a shameful secret, I just like what we have, and
I just want it between us. Something all for me, y'know."
"You're a terrible liar, but it's ok, with me." He half smiled to Eric and kissed him
a bit and said, "Now I have to go." He turned around and started out for the door.
"You just like to tease me," Eric said mockingly.
"Don't I know it."
Eric watched as Spike left the room, and stood there all alone. He would have to wait
in the room for a bit because if anyone would see them leave an abandoned class room
a few minutes apart, they might suspect him of not being who they thought he was. He
couldn't understand why he was so paralyzed with fear about telling people who he
really was, but it was just something he wasn't ready for...yet.
He was glad Spike was patient; it was one of the reasons why Eric loved the guy.
Finally, after the appropriate amount of time passed, he exited the room and spotted
his "girlfriend" Karen. He strolled over to her, "Hey baby," and hugged her from the
back kissing her on the cheek.
* * * * *
Chris came to thanks to the smell of onions. The nurse stood over him smiling with
the fiendish piece of onion in his hand.
"Oldest trick in the book," the nurse replied. He stood six foot, five inches,
muscular, very not the stereotype of school nurses, and Chris noticed a group of
girls lusting over him in the "waiting room." He turned back to the nurse, "What
"I don't tell me."
"Well if I knew don't you think I wouldn't have asked."
The nurse smirked, "Smart ass."
Chris stared at his arm. When did this happen? Who had done this to him?
Chris looked up at the nurse and asked, "Can I go now?"
The nurse inspected the wound and said, "Yeah. You should go home. Do you need me to
call your parents?"
"No, no I can walk. It's not that far. Thanks though." As he strolled out of the
office going through the "waiting room," a blond girl ran in moving toward the girls
exclaiming, "Did you guys here what happened to Erika Leeman?"
The girls stared at her and shook their heads.
"It was horrible, somehow she jumped off the school building into some of the glass
windows that were about to be put up. It was glass had." The girl covered her face
and started crying and heaving as the others stood around and tried to calm her
* * * * *
Spike looked back as Eric wrapped his arms around her, something he'd done to Spike
He hated Karen.
Karen must die, he thought to himself, and smirked a little. A little jealous much?
You know who his heart belongs to.
As he continued to look back, he bumped into someone. "Oh, I'm sorry." He turned back
and saw it was Chris, "Oh God, I was just coming to see you. What the hell
Chris gave him a confused look and said, "I don't know."
"What happened to your arm?"
Chris looked down and said, "I got cut in class." He aimlessly walked toward the exit
deep in thought and Spike watched only able say one thing to himself, "What?"
* * * * *
Eric ran upstairs and into his room. He dropped his bag on he floor, and took off his
letterman jacket flopping onto his bed and looked at the picture on the nightstand; a
picture of Karen in her pink dress, and light blue denim jacket, she was beautiful,
and beside her was Eric with a mock smile on his face.
He turned the picture frame around and undid the latches, quickly taking out a
picture, and as he looked at the picture, it brought a big smile to his face. He
gazed at the picture of him and Spike; Spike was still in his ever-famous black, his
hair was a bit red then, and Eric had his arms around him and a huge smile, a real
He took the picture out and held it as he lay down on a pillow and began to drift,
and soon he was fast asleep.
* * * * *
Chris trudged into his house, but no one was home. He sighed, and headed into the
kitchen. As he entered a flash of the nightmare with his father and the refrigerator
flew through his mind. He shakily opened the fridge and grabbed a soda. No dad
He chuckled to himself about how absurd the dream was.
Then he looked down at his forearm and knew that this was supposed to be absurd too.
People don't get hurt in their dreams. Maybe he cut himself on the desk when he was
thrashing from the different times.
It could happen.
Chris ran up the stairs, careful not to hurt his arm, and flopped on his bed. He
grabbed the remote, turned on the TV, and watched Rosie; as soon as Rosie began
talking, he fell asleep.
* * * * *
Eric's eyes fluttered open and he found himself outside.
He shot up and looked around.
His bed was outside in the dark.
He turned back and saw a house; an old, dirty, dingy house with a green roof that was
falling apart, with a brown, moldy structure, red paint peeling on the door, with a
little black gate to see through.
He stood up and walked towards the old abandoned home.
In the wind he could hear the rhyme that most of the crazy old people would
sing."One, two, Freddy's coming for , four, better lock your door."
A shiver ran down his spine.
As soon as he walked through the door, leaving it open, it eerily slammed shut,
trapping him in. He instinctively turned around when he heard the slam struggling to
try and pr