THE SPRINGWOOD SLASHER
PROLOGUE- THE DEPTHS OF A DREAM


What is a dream? Webster’s dictionary defines a dream as a series of thoughts, images, or emotions occurring during sleep. It’s a state of mind marked by abstraction or release from reality. It is the visionary creation of the imagination. In fact, some experiences of the waking life have the characteristics of a dream. Dreams can be either the most pleasant escape from reality one can experience, or the worst. In those worst cases, a nightmare develops. Nightmares produce the anxiety and fear of an evil spirit thought to oppress people during their sleep. Nightmares drive people to the farthest recesses of their mind, taking them places they never thought they would go.

But what the children of Springwood, Ohio, have dealt with over the years was something much more sinister. Many years ago, Elm Street resident Fred Krueger was arrested and charged with various counts of murder in the disappearances of over 20 of the Elm Street children. The arresting officer was said to have caught Krueger wearing a glove with special finger knives attached to them, with blood dripping from each talon. Then the sight of that poor little girl made him want to puke. Fred Krueger gouged her eyes out and was laughing about it. Backup arrived and Krueger was apprehended. However, when he was put on trial, the greedy defense attorney pointed out that the search warrant granted for Krueger’s house was not signed, and therefore, illegal. Which made his arrest illegal. So, despite the fact that Krueger was caught red-handed and everyone knew he was guilty, Fred Krueger was set free.

The parents of Springwood were outraged. How could a sick and psychotic killer like Fred Krueger still roam the streets and endanger their children? Something had to be done. So they formed a lynch mob and tracked him down to an old factory where he used to work and murder their kids. They trapped him inside and torched the place, sending Krueger to a fiery death. But what the parents didn’t know was that their troubles were just beginning, and by burning Krueger, they merely sent him out of this dimension and into the dream world—a world that would know no bounds. A world he would master.

Years later, Krueger came back to Elm Street, this time vowing to haunt the children of Elm Street forever—in their dreams. One by one, he started killing them in their sleep. The parents became increasingly alarmed when their children would complain about having nightmares about Krueger and then simply not wake up the following morning. Many of these brave kids have tried to kill Krueger. Many have tried to stop him. But what they don’t realize is that you can’t kill what is already dead. You can’t stop that which is unstoppable.

The names have been many: Nancy Thompson. Jesse Walsh. Kristen Parker. Alice Johnson. Katherine Krueger, his own daughter. But none of them were successful. Hell, not even evil itself could stop the Springwood Slasher. Jason Voorhees, famous for a legendary killing spree at Camp Crystal Lake in Massachusetts, had been Krueger’s ticket home for a time, until he started claiming all the victims for himself and having all of the fun. Then Krueger had to take matters into his own hands. He had to go into the real world and dispose of that hockey punk and get back to his children.

After a long and bloody battle, Krueger was sent back to the dream world by Jason—and an appropriately placed machete shot by young vixen Lori Campbell, the latest bitch to think she had gotten the better of the Dream Master. But his experience in the real world wasn’t a total loss. One, he had managed to bring fear back to the town of Springwood, who had seemingly forgotten him over the many years of peace. And two, he had managed to eliminate their entire supply of Hypnocil, the experimental drug used to prevent dreams. Which meant that it was time for people to start sleeping again. And start dreaming...

A young, beautiful girl bathed in white light was surprised at her surroundings. A moment earlier, Alexis Murphy, 17, was getting ready for bed and preparing for the next day at Springwood High School. But instead of thinking about cheerleading practice and her math homework, she now found herself out of her bedroom and in some dark, gloomy basement with steam pipes whistling around her.

Confused, she made her way down a dark hallway. A wet, damp tunnel, Alexis was surrounded on each side by a wall of moldy bricks and steam that choked her lungs. The only light anywhere appeared to be moonlight at the end of the hallway. Water then trickled down around her from above as she stared through steel mesh to what appeared to be a much larger room above her. When she looked up, two drops of hot water dripped down directly on her, and she could have sworn she heard someone call her name, “Alexis!” She spun around, but was scared by a billy goat, whose bell jingled as it let out a “bahhhhhha.”

Screaming, Alexis wasted no time in running away, but soon found herself in a much darker, sinister-looking room. The room seemed to be a never-ending vertical abyss, lined by narrow walkways and hot, sizzling steam pipes. Even more confused, she chose a walkway and hurried down it, when a dark, burned face appeared for a split second, his red eyes gleaming with hate. However, when Alexis turned back around, the man was no longer there. She then heard some strange noises, like mumbling, then sinister laughter, and then a god awful screeching that sounded like someone was dragging a garden claw across the side of her boyfriend Mike’s sports car.

With chills running down her spine, Alexis ran down a nearby walkway, dodging more pipes and bottoming out at the base of the room. There, she found a lair of sorts—a grimy, disgusting place even a hermit would hate. A crude bed was laid out before her, complete with no pillow cases and dirty sheets, along with an assortment of various homemade tools.

Just as she went to examine it further, that god awful screeching sound echoed in the room again, but this time, a tall, lanky figure emerged from behind a nearby boiler and slowly started stalking toward her. Shocked, Alexis turned and ran away, not sure what was happening. All she could see was that this monster of a man was badly burned and wore a dark brown fedora on his head. As she ran away, the nearby boilers all began to light up in a fury of fire, with the orange, yellow and red of the flames lighting up the little bit of the room that she could see. It was almost as if the boilers had lit up to make it easier for the monster to find her.

She then backed herself into a corner and became surrounded by a boiler and a maze of pipes. Screaming, she noticed the dark shadow approaching from around the corner. As the monster approached, it was then that she noticed the long fingernails he had—or finger knives was what they looked like. So that’s what was making that awful screeching sound, she thought. And he continued to do it, too, over and over again, dragging his fingers across a nearby pipeline, as if to taunt her and get on her nerves. It worked, because Alexis let out a blood-curdling scream that echoed and billowed throughout the entire boiler room.

Then, all of a sudden, the fingers swiped lightning-fast toward her chest—

And Alexis awoke in her bed in a deep, cold sweat. Clearly spooked, she reached up onto the wall and clutched her crucifix—the crucifix her grandmother had given her when she was just a little girl. The crucifix that would fend off the evil spirits.

Just then, there was a knock at her door. “Lexi, honey, are you okay?” her mother, Sandra, asked.

“I’m fine, mom,” Alexis answered. “I just had a bad dream.”

“What happened?” Sandra replied, pointing at her.

Alexis had no idea what she was talking about until she glanced down at her nightgown and noticed four distinct cuts into the mid-section.

“You better cut your fingernails,” Sandra said. “Or else quit that kind of dreaming. One or the other.”

“Right mom,” Alexis responded. “Sorry I woke you. I’m going right back to sleep.”

“Alright,” Sandra said with a smile as she closed the door. “Sleep tight.”

As Alexis lay back in bed, she reluctantly closed her eyes, but when she did, she was surrounded by white light again, right back where she had started. However, this time, just ahead of her, she saw what appeared to be three kindergarten-age girls skipping rope in a field. Two of them were holding the rope, while the one in the center was jumping the rope perfectly each time. They were all dressed in bright white schoolgirl dresses, and none appeared to be more than 6 years old. They didn’t acknowledge her presence. Instead, they just kept jumping rope and singing the same nursery rhyme. As she approached, she heard what they were singing: “One, two, Freddy’s coming for you. Three, four, better lock your door. Five, six, grab your crucifix. Seven, eight, gonna stay up late. Nine, ten, never sleep again.”

Just then, Alexis awoke as her alarm blared loudly from her nightstand. 6:00 a.m.

Alexis shut off her alarm with a yawn, then glanced down at her nightgown just to double-check. It was perfectly fine. She looked up at the crucifix on the wall. It was still there. Nothing wrong at all. What a nightmare, she thought as she got out of bed. Time to get ready for school.


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