Post by Nightmare Master on Aug 23, 2006 13:22:18 GMT -5
It's not finished, but I was hoping to get some comments on it so far.
The air is cool and fresh in Springwood. The dark night sky blankets the town, whilst blue stars twinkle above; As if winking at unconscious minds of the townspeople. On Elm Street, the street with a history to tell, stands a house, the cursed house of 1428 Elm Street. Amber lies tossing and turning in her bed. She kicks the covers off of her legs unto the floor in a disheveled pile. “No” She mumbles. Her eyes shut tightly, sweat rolling down her fair white skin. Her breathing gets heavier as she tosses and turns. She whines like she’s crying, yet her eyes are dry. “Leave me alone!” Amber jolts awake. Her eyes scan the desolate shadows of her bedroom. She sits up, her heart pounds as if she had just finished running. She looks around, her breathing calms as she realizes it was just a dream. Amber scoots to the edge of her queen-sized bed, and reaches for her covers. A loud scraping noise is heard from outside Amber’s bedroom door. “Amber” A raspy, distorted voice calls out, whilst the scraping continues. Amber raises her head hesitantly, to the door. The scraping gets louder, as if getting closer. Suddenly, a faint melody of joined children’s voices weaves into the room; 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.” The song loops continuously as Amber steps off her bed and walks toward the window. Amber folds her arms, looking downward from the window, to find a small group of little girls, playing jump-rope and singing the eery tune. A little blonde haired girl looks up at Amber, looking down on them. Her ice blue eyes shift back to the others and they all run away, their giggles echo as they disappear into a thick fog that surrounds the house. Amber reluctantly turns around to a dark figure standing in front of her. The figure chuckles and flexes out his right hand, to reveal four bladed fingers.
“Where you going piglet?” Says a raspy, low voice. Amber trembles in fear as the figure takes a step closer to her. She hits a wall behind her. A steel wall. Their surroundings suddenly dissolve into the darkness, and shift into an old boiler room. Steam arises from rusted iron pipes that maze throughout the area; It mingles in the air, casting a shadow over the figure’s face. Amber’s lips quake as a tear rolls down her cheek, mixing with her sweat. “Who are you?” She strains to see his face. The figure grins with the pleasure of teasing his victim. “Your worst Nightmare.” He clangs his bladed fingers together, stepping closer to her. Amber slides down to her knees, begging. “Please, leave me alone.” She cries, looking up to his gleaming blue eyes. He smiles, tilting his head to the side. “Don’t you want to give daddy a kiss?” A long tongue slithers from between his lips and flickers at her like a snake’s. Amber’s eyes widen. “Who are you?” She sobs, fright overtaking her. The figure crouches down in front of her, his face now visible; Horribly burned and scarred, hidden beneath the brim of a ragged fedora hat.
“I’m the man who stalks children in their dreams. The source of all the sudden death occurrences in Springwood. The voice in your head, telling you what to do and what not to do.” He explains. His breathing becomes heavier. The haunting melody begins, once again. Amber looks into his eyes, gazing into them, as if being hypnotized. “One, two, Freddy’s coming for you.” The verse repeats itself, over and over again. Amber’s mouth drops open. “Freddy.” She suddenly remembers something.
A car crash, a hospital, doctors, it’s all fading away.
Freddy, the boiler room, the odd song sung by little girls. Amber finds herself lying on a hospital bed. White, crisp sheets lay underneath her. Plain walls bound her inside a small room. She sits up, then quickly lays back down. “Where am I?” She holds her head in pain. “You’re in the hospital, and have been asleep for three days.” An average height man with a stethoscope dangling from his ears leans over her. “Why? What happened?” Amber groans at the cold touch of the stethoscope on her skin. The man places the stethoscope around his neck. “You were in an accident. But don’t worry, everything is going to be all right. Your mother is fine, and you, you are perfectly healthy with just a minor concussion to your forehead.” He smiles at her. Amber places her hand on her forehead, which is dressed with a soft white bandage. “You are a very lucky girl.” He walks out of the room, and shuts the door behind him. Amber stares up at the plain white ceiling. “It was all a dream?” She questions herself. “He was so real that time, I couldn’t even tell. I didn’t even remember him.” A tear trickles from her left eye. “I was in an accident. Asleep for three days.” She continues to talk to herself. “Lucky?” The sudden word pops into her mind. “I’m a very lucky girl?” Confused by what the doctor said, she tries to remember what happened three days ago.
The air is cool and fresh in Springwood. The dark night sky blankets the town, whilst blue stars twinkle above; As if winking at unconscious minds of the townspeople. On Elm Street, the street with a history to tell, stands a house, the cursed house of 1428 Elm Street. Amber lies tossing and turning in her bed. She kicks the covers off of her legs unto the floor in a disheveled pile. “No” She mumbles. Her eyes shut tightly, sweat rolling down her fair white skin. Her breathing gets heavier as she tosses and turns. She whines like she’s crying, yet her eyes are dry. “Leave me alone!” Amber jolts awake. Her eyes scan the desolate shadows of her bedroom. She sits up, her heart pounds as if she had just finished running. She looks around, her breathing calms as she realizes it was just a dream. Amber scoots to the edge of her queen-sized bed, and reaches for her covers. A loud scraping noise is heard from outside Amber’s bedroom door. “Amber” A raspy, distorted voice calls out, whilst the scraping continues. Amber raises her head hesitantly, to the door. The scraping gets louder, as if getting closer. Suddenly, a faint melody of joined children’s voices weaves into the room; 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.” The song loops continuously as Amber steps off her bed and walks toward the window. Amber folds her arms, looking downward from the window, to find a small group of little girls, playing jump-rope and singing the eery tune. A little blonde haired girl looks up at Amber, looking down on them. Her ice blue eyes shift back to the others and they all run away, their giggles echo as they disappear into a thick fog that surrounds the house. Amber reluctantly turns around to a dark figure standing in front of her. The figure chuckles and flexes out his right hand, to reveal four bladed fingers.
“Where you going piglet?” Says a raspy, low voice. Amber trembles in fear as the figure takes a step closer to her. She hits a wall behind her. A steel wall. Their surroundings suddenly dissolve into the darkness, and shift into an old boiler room. Steam arises from rusted iron pipes that maze throughout the area; It mingles in the air, casting a shadow over the figure’s face. Amber’s lips quake as a tear rolls down her cheek, mixing with her sweat. “Who are you?” She strains to see his face. The figure grins with the pleasure of teasing his victim. “Your worst Nightmare.” He clangs his bladed fingers together, stepping closer to her. Amber slides down to her knees, begging. “Please, leave me alone.” She cries, looking up to his gleaming blue eyes. He smiles, tilting his head to the side. “Don’t you want to give daddy a kiss?” A long tongue slithers from between his lips and flickers at her like a snake’s. Amber’s eyes widen. “Who are you?” She sobs, fright overtaking her. The figure crouches down in front of her, his face now visible; Horribly burned and scarred, hidden beneath the brim of a ragged fedora hat.
“I’m the man who stalks children in their dreams. The source of all the sudden death occurrences in Springwood. The voice in your head, telling you what to do and what not to do.” He explains. His breathing becomes heavier. The haunting melody begins, once again. Amber looks into his eyes, gazing into them, as if being hypnotized. “One, two, Freddy’s coming for you.” The verse repeats itself, over and over again. Amber’s mouth drops open. “Freddy.” She suddenly remembers something.
A car crash, a hospital, doctors, it’s all fading away.
Freddy, the boiler room, the odd song sung by little girls. Amber finds herself lying on a hospital bed. White, crisp sheets lay underneath her. Plain walls bound her inside a small room. She sits up, then quickly lays back down. “Where am I?” She holds her head in pain. “You’re in the hospital, and have been asleep for three days.” An average height man with a stethoscope dangling from his ears leans over her. “Why? What happened?” Amber groans at the cold touch of the stethoscope on her skin. The man places the stethoscope around his neck. “You were in an accident. But don’t worry, everything is going to be all right. Your mother is fine, and you, you are perfectly healthy with just a minor concussion to your forehead.” He smiles at her. Amber places her hand on her forehead, which is dressed with a soft white bandage. “You are a very lucky girl.” He walks out of the room, and shuts the door behind him. Amber stares up at the plain white ceiling. “It was all a dream?” She questions herself. “He was so real that time, I couldn’t even tell. I didn’t even remember him.” A tear trickles from her left eye. “I was in an accident. Asleep for three days.” She continues to talk to herself. “Lucky?” The sudden word pops into her mind. “I’m a very lucky girl?” Confused by what the doctor said, she tries to remember what happened three days ago.