Late that afternoon, Apryl lay silent in one of the small recovery rooms at Nurse Johnson’s office. She appeared to be resting comfortably, but was still unconscious. Her head was bandaged and she had been completely motionless ever since they brought her down. Outside in the waiting area, Lexi sat dejected, fearing the worst, wondering what the hell had just happened to her sister.

“Is she gonna be okay?” Lexi asked, her makeup smeared. She had been crying off and on the entire time, causing her makeup to run down her face like a painting doused with some paint thinner. She sat restlessly on a small, uncomfortable chair, one of seven in a long row, and rested her head on her hand.

“It’s too soon to tell,” Nurse Johnson replied. A tall, middle-aged woman with a cheerful demeanor, Nurse Johnson had just about seen or heard every excuse in the book. From headaches to stomach aches and all things in between, she had certainly had her fair share of Springwood’s finest between her walls. But this time, she had to admit, was a new low. Running into the principal, who was also out cold in an opposing room. Now there was something unique.

Adjusting her large, red-rimmed glasses, Nurse Johnson got up from behind her black metal desk and walked over toward Apryl’s room, her clip-clops thumping beneath her on the black-and-white tiled floor. She opened the door with a slight creak and noticed no change in Apryl’s condition, so she pulled the door back closed slowly. The nurse then walked across the room toward Principal Shaye’s room, opened the door and then closed it with the same result.

Somewhat discouraged, the nurse walked back toward her desk when she noticed Lexi passed out in her chair. Breaking the silence, she mumbled, “No change, dear, I’m sorry.”

That immediately brought Lexi back to her senses, wide awake. “Huh? What?” she clamored, startled out of sleep by the now raspy voice of the nurse.

Nurse Johnson didn’t reply. She just sat back down behind her desk, sliding her chair back with a terrible screeching as it scraped across the floor.

“Um, I called my mom, and she’s on her way here now,” Lexi informed her. “We’re gonna take her up to the hospital.”

“No, dear, that won’t be necessary,” Nurse Johnson fired back in that same raspy voice. Lexi, puzzled, took one look back at her and noticed something different about her. She couldn’t figure out what it was, but the shrewd, evil smile hidden behind those glasses certainly looked familiar. The nurse said nothing after that. She just glared back at her, revealing a nasty set of yellow teeth.

“You?!” Lexi yelled, noticing the claw forming on the nurse’s right hand. Screaming, she realized that Nurse Johnson wasn’t even a nurse at all, but someone much more sinister. Freddy Krueger soon emerged and jumped up onto the nurse’s desk, swiping his claw at her. He narrowly missed Lexi’s pretty face and instead, struck a nearby computer and sent sparks flying everywhere as it crashed to the floor.

Lexi ducked out of the way and crawled away toward the door, hysterical. Freddy, meanwhile, hopped down from the desk, sniveling, “Come here, little bitch!”

Crying and screaming, Lexi continued toward the door, but Freddy was on her in a second, grabbing her by the legs.

“I ain’t done with you yet, Lexi,” he quipped, pulling her backward with inhuman force.

Then, just as Krueger reeled her in to strike, Lexi got tapped on the shoulder--

“Lexi, honey, wake up,” the familiar voice called out.

It was her mother. She had arrived at the nurse’s office.

“Mom!” Lexi yelled, hugging her tight.

“It’s alright,” her mother said. “They took Apryl down to the hospital. You were asleep when I got here and looked so pleasant, I didn’t want to wake you.”

“I’m so glad you did,” Lexi answered, matter-of-factly. “Can we go now?”

“Yes,” Sandra replied. “Thank you, Nurse Johnson.”

“You’re welcome,” the real Nurse Johnson responded. “Let me know how she’s doing.”

Sandra was the first out the door, followed by Lexi, who was close behind. On her way out, she took one last look back at Nurse Johnson— and she was staring right back at her with a shrewd grin on her face.


At around three of the clock that afternoon, long after the pep rally and all the students had departed Springwood High— the main double doors to the gym opened quietly and Quinton entered, determined to get in one last workout before the big game.

After the dream incident with Krueger the previous night, he had skipped school and gone into seclusion. There was no way a fucking dream demon was going to cost him his ride to Ohio State. Still, he felt really bad about leaving his friends in the dark about it all, especially Tash. He loved and cared for her dearly, but it was something he just had to do. There were many times during the course of the day where he wanted to pick up his cell phone and call her, but each time, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He had had about a dozen voicemails left for him, mostly from Tash, but he couldn’t worry about that until after the game. Once the game was over, he would explain all to her—and everyone else. He just hoped they wouldn’t think he was crazy.

Stepping into the locker room sporting his best pair of Nike shorts and a gray Springwood football t-shirt, Quinton heard music faintly playing off in the distance. “Coach?” he called out, but there was no response. Coach Reynolds occasionally stayed after school to watch game film or go over some plays with his assistants, but never on game day. Quinton slowly passed the coach’s office, which was completely dark. Startled, Quinton went to his locker, set down his white terry cloth towel, and began to stretch. The music off in the distance was a little bit louder now, and it was then that Quinton assumed someone was already in the weight room. Probably Clark, he thought. That sumbitch was always trying to throw a 90-yard pass. He was probably in there building up his forearms and shoulders. Thinking nothing of it, Quinton made his way down the hallway past the sauna toward the weight room. As he approached, he could finally make out what the radio was playing. It was blaring Korn’s “Wake Up”, and he was just about to curse Mike out for playing that shit, when he opened the door...

...And saw blood splattered all over all four walls of the weight room. Quinton could only look on in horror as he looked up and spotted his teammate Luke Swanson, or what was left of him, hung from the ceiling by the climbing rope. “Ahhh!” Quinton screamed, rubbing his eyes. “Somebody fuckin’ wake me up!” The reality then hit Quinton. He wasn’t even asleep. Which meant that Luke was really dead. “Swanny!” He yelled, noticing four deep cuts etched across his bloodied chest. He climbed an adjacent rope and managed to cut him down, but Luke, blue in the face, was dead. He had been dead for a couple hours in fact. Quinton went to attempt resuscitation, but that’s when he noticed the four distinct marks across his chest. They reminded him of something eerily familiar, like someone had clawed him. And that someone was Freddy Krueger, he was sure.

“Krueger, if you’re here motherfucker, I’m gonna kick your ass!” Quinton cried, breaking the radio in frustration. Finally concluding there was nothing he could do, Quinton just hunched down and sat Indian-style next to Luke’s body, thinking. How could this have happened? I thought Krueger only got you in your dreams--

And that’s when it him. Luke must have fallen asleep while he was working out, and Krueger wasted him. Holy fucking shit, Freddy Krueger had wasted him. It made Quinton realize just how lucky he was to be alive.

I’ve gotta get out of here, Quinton thought. I’ve gotta let the others know right away before anyone else gets killed. Staggering back to his feet, Quinton dropped everything and kicked the back door open with a bang. He ran straight to his car and roared off down the road.

However, Quinton didn’t notice the police officer trailing him the whole way. Officer Darrell Jones had seen everything, and he definitely heard him rant about Freddy Krueger. However, the tall, black man knew something was up and wasted little time getting on his radio to the station.

“Chief, it’s Jones,” Officer Darrell Jones called into his radio as Quinton disappeared from sight. “I think we have a problem here.”

Proceed To Chapter 8
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