Beautiful Nightmare

Sweet Dream, or a Beautiful Nightmare? "Beautiful Nightmare" belongs to Beyonce.

It had been too rough a day, in my opinion. Sucky, if you want a proper adjective. It was supposed to be my day off, but it was anything BUT relaxing. First there were bills to pay. Then I got stuck in traffic for three hours. To top it off, the power went off in my neighborhood. And it was raining. Double fuck.

I lit some candles and slid into bed, thoroughly exhausted from my day. I laid in bed, staring up at the ceiling. It was a nice house I had moved in to; I got it for super cheap from the real estate woman. I heard that there was some bad history of the house, but who cared? It was a house that I could afford. It was house 1428 on a nice street called Elm Street. Though it was very nice, I heard some whispers behind my back about it; I thought I heard one kid mutter something about me staying in “that psycho Krueger’s house” before being harshly shushed by his friends.

Whoever this ‘Krueger’ guy was, no one wanted to talk. Everyone looked scared to death of just the simple name. The only real information I got was when another teenager told me to “watch out for Freddy”.

So. Freddy Krueger. Interesting name. I still wondered who he was.

I felt myself grow tired, and closed my eyes. Out of nowhere, I heard a small tune in my head and sang along to it, not really knowing what I was singing.

“One, two, Freddy’s coming for you…
“Three, four, better lock your door…
“Five, six, grab a crucifix…
“Seven, eight, gonna stay up late…
“Nine, ten, never sleep…a…g…”

I suddenly bolted up, hearing something in my room. It sounded like someone was in there with me. It FELT like someone was in there with me! Suddenly, the feeling vanished. Still shaken, I slipped my hand under my pillow and clutched a knife I kept under there for safety reasons and crept out of bed. I walked out of my bedroom and down the hall, down the stairs…and saw my basement door slightly ajar.

What the hell was going on? I swallowed hard and shifted down the hall and up to the door, and let out a small cry when I heard something in the basement. There already seemed to be a light on; a reddish light. I walked past the door and looked down into the basement.

...This didn’t look like my basement.

It looked like an old factory; a boiler room, or something. The metal staircase spiraled down into the room, where steam sifted up from the miles of piping. I slowly made my way down those stairs, clutching my knife tightly in my hand. It was dead quiet, save for the soft hissing of the steam off the pipes and the clanking of machinery. I made it to the bottom of the stairs and looked around, my hands sweating profusely.

I thought I saw a shadow to my left, and whipped around. Nothing. I crept further into the room, ducking from the low pipes, and took a few turns. It had then just occurred to me that I’d never noticed this in my basement before. What the hell was going on? Another turn, and I suddenly found myself in a room.

It was odd; there wasn’t much in there except for a desk with a random assortment of sharp things and tools, a chair, a small bed that looked homemade, and other pieces of stuff strewn about. It was warm and dank and smelled like sulfur, ash, and blood.

A lot of blood.

I swallowed hard and took a step back, then jumped when I heard the high-pitched screeching sound of metal against metal. I whipped around and saw nothing. The same metallic screech wrenched through air again, this time closer and to my left. Accompanying the horrible sound was what sounded like a deep-throated laugh. I clenched my knife tighter and backed away from the sound—and bumped into something. I felt with my hand behind me and touched a thick, wooly cloth.

….Scratch that. SomeONE.

“Try a little lower, sweetheart,” a deep voice said right behind me. I screamed and jerked away, and slashed blindly with my knife. A hand caught my wrist, and in the left corner of my eye, I saw a glint of metal and instinctively shot my hand up and caught a wrist of my own. Through the struggle, I could now see in front of me.

The first thing I noticed was red and green; red and green stripes on a sweater that was threadbare and dirty. I looked a little higher and my heart lurched when I saw horribly burned flesh, and higher still, slightly sharp teeth grinning at me. I took a moment to take in the whole picture. A horribly burnt man in a red and green sweater about to vivisect me with—I took a quick peek—knives attached to a glove.

‘Well,’ I thought to myself dryly, ‘shit.’

The man holding my wrist gave it a little squeeze and I returned the gesture, keeping pressure in my arm tight. The man gave me a one-over, his lightning blue eyes flashing. “What have we here?” he growled slowly. His tongue ran over his charred lips as he searched me deeper; almost into my soul, it seemed. His expression fell slightly. “…How old are you, girl?”

‘What the hell difference did THAT make?’ I wondered. A change in pressure on my wrist forewarned me of what could happen if I didn’t answer regardless. “…Twenty-one,” I finally said. The man’s expression turned to that of near incredulousness.

“…Twenty-one?” he repeated softly. “…You’re no child.”

‘No dur,’ I wanted to reply, but let no one say I have no sense of self-preservation. Instead, I shook my head.

“…But you FEEL like one…” he went on, eyeing me over again. “…You look like one.” He inhaled deeply. “…Even SMELL like one.” His gaze narrowed and his grip on my wrist was almost crushing. “Are you lying to me!?”

“No!” I cried, keeping my arm tight. “I really AM twenty-one! I swear!” I yelped when he pulled my arm, making my chest connect with his, and his face buried itself in my neck; I could almost feel his teeth in my skin. He stayed there for a few moments, then pulled back and growled down at me.

“…You’re an adult,” he said plainly, his voice laced with disappointment. “Killing you would have no benefit to me.” With that, he shoved me away and my back hit the wall of the room. He contemplated his knives for a moment, looking between them and me a few times. Finally, his scarred face broke out into an evil grin. “…You WOULD be good practice, though.”

My instinct to survive—the same instinct that kept me alive in the face of two abusive stepfathers, a stalker, and four muggers—kicked in and my grip on my knife tightened. I could feel my adrenaline pump hard through my veins, readying my reflexes for instant movement, if need be.

Freddy’s grin only broadened. “…This promises to be interesting,” he muttered to himself. He splayed his knives, and I absently wished for a pair like that before snapping back to my situation at hand. “You want to play with Freddy, little girl? Fine by me…”

“…Freddy?” I blinked. “…Freddy Krueger? YOU’RE Freddy Krueger?”

“Who did you think I was? John Gacy?”

“No, you’re too skinny,” I replied without thinking. “…YOU were the guy who used to own my house?” Freddy grinned. “…No wonder the real estate was so cheap.”

“That house has been kept empty by the mere MEMORY of me,” he hissed, as though remembering something pleasant. “You were a silly little thing to ignore the warnings.”

“Since no one gave me a straight answer as to WHY…” I grumbled. I shrieked when Freddy suddenly leapt forward and slashed at me, leaving deep claw marks in the metal wall.

“THIS,” he said, holding up his glove, “is why.” He lurched for me again and I dove out of the way, almost tripping over something on the floor. I regained my footing and snatched something else off of the floor—a wrench—and hurled it at him. It hit his chest and he froze for just a split second. In that split second, I dove at him and tackled him to the ground, stabbing him in the shoulder.

He let out a feral snarl and slashed at me with his knives. I jerked my knife back and backed up before he caught me in the face, and snatched his wrist again. I made a move to stab him again, but he again caught my wrist. We struggled for a moment, surprisingly evenly matched, before Freddy suddenly grinned.

“What?” I bit out, beginning to feel lightheaded from the heat and the struggle. Freddy squirmed under me and I suddenly felt something hard under my thighs.

“…Once more…try a little lower.”

I felt a rush of blood to my face and dove up and off of him, only to be grabbed again and pulled to him, chest-to-chest. In one quick motion, he had my knife hand restrained behind my back and his clawed hand pressed against my back, pulling me closer. “I don’t think so, Princess,” he growled into my ear. He dug his fingers into my hand, making me fumble the knife. “If killing you wont give me more power…” He dug the tip of his knives into my back, making me wince. “…Then fucking you will give me pleasure instead.”

In one quick movement, he threw me onto the small bed and flicked his knives. In response to the nonverbal command, cords whipped out of nowhere and bound my wrists to the wooden headboard. I struggled against them in vain as Freddy stalked forward, his eyes practically glowing with anticipation. He reached down with his non-gloved hand and pressed it against my stomach.

A surge of pleasurable submission ran through me and I slumped back on the rough bedcovers. Freddy made a soft sound and slid his hand under my tank top to stroke at my skin.

“…Flawless perfection,” he muttered, a hint of envy in his voice. “…Milky white skin…” He ripped the tank top off and eyed my body hungrily. “…Such a young body…” He groped one of my breasts. “…Supple. I like that.”

I pulled at my restraints again, clenching my legs
together tightly. Freddy ignored me and straddled my hips, purposely grinding his hips into mine for a moment before tracing the bare tip of his index blade over my skin. I couldn’t help but cry out when he skimmed the tip over my nipple.

“Such a sweet voice,” he crooned, tracing my jaw line. Suddenly, he bent forward and engulfed my mouth with his own. His tongue invaded my mouth and probed everywhere. I made desperate sounds into his mouth and pulled harder on my restraints, only to be kissed harder. After a few moments, he pulled back, a thin thread of saliva connecting our lips. He licked his lips, taking the thread with it. “…Delicious mouth,” he commented, brushing my lips with his gloved thumb. “I wonder though…” He sat up on his knees and pressed his gloved hand to my chest to keep me down as he used his other hand to open his belt.

“…How would that sweet, delicious mouth feel around my cock…”

I thrashed against my bindings, and Freddy glared at me. “Don’t fight it, bitch!” he snarled. “You’re out of your league here, and I can just kill you and THEN fuck you. Alive or dead, bitch, take your pick.”

I inhaled deeply and let out a shuddery sigh, then forced myself to relax. Freddy gave me a calculating look.

“…You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” I nodded. Freddy grinned again. “Good for both of us…I haven’t had a virgin in decades, and if you’re a good girl and do as you’re told, you might feel pleasure too. I might even let you free. Fuck, if you’re lucky, I might let you live so you can be my little stress reliever. It all depends on how you take it.” He stroked my face again, almost patronizingly so. “Okay, little girl?”

I swallowed and nodded, and Freddy petted my hair. “Good girl.” He unbuckled his belt and slid it off slowly, then let it drop to the floor. He then undid his pants and pushed them down a little, pulling out his cock and stroking it a few times. He was bigger than I thought he would be; I guessed about seven inches. It was also kind of thick. For some reason, it wasn’t as scarred as the rest of him. Only some minor burn scars marred it. Regardless of being burned, it most certainly didn’t lose its function.

Freddy shifted up my body and up higher on his knees, leaning so his bladed hand was braced up on the wall. With the other hand, he grabbed himself and positioned himself at my mouth. “Open your mouth,” he commanded. I did as he said and he slipped the tip past my lips. “Suck. Slowly.”

Breathing through my nose deeply to calm myself down, I did as he said and suckled on the head of his cock, using my tongue to probe at it. Freddy’s left hand clenched in my hair for a quick moment before cupping the back of my head and pushing more of his cock into my mouth. I managed not to choke as he pushed almost all the way in. He was still for a moment, then he tightened his grip on the back of my head and began to rock his hips.

I kept my jaw slack and my throat relaxed (as I’d heard one should do, via Cosmo magazine) as he fucked my mouth. I shifted my eyes up and locked gazes with him; he was staring down at me with demonic blue eyes; watching as he fucked my mouth. I closed my eyes, and his fingers clenched in my hair.

‘Open your eyes and look at me, bitch.’

My eyes snapped open from hearing his voice in my head, and I locked eyes with him again. He grinned perversely and quickened his pace, bucking his hips harder. I could hear the scrape of his knives on the wall above me, but I still didn’t take my eyes off of his own.

‘You look so pretty,’ I heard him say inside my head again. ‘Such a pretty slut, taking my cock in your mouth. Such a good girl. Such a good slut.’

I made a keen in the back of my throat, and saw Freddy close his eyes in pleasure. His cock kept hitting the back of my throat, but my gag reflex still didn’t go off. All of a sudden, the hand on the back of my head clenched tightly as he shoved my head forward to deep-throat him. With a loud grunt, he came hard; spurts of hot, thick liquid poured down my throat. I managed not to choke on it all as he kept my head firmly in place. My nose was touching his scarred skin, and I smelled charred flesh. It should have smelled nauseating, but right now, the sensation of a large cock down my throat overrode the scent of third-degree burn.

After about a minute, Freddy slid out of my mouth, taking thick strings of saliva and cum with it. I took a deep breath and forced myself to swallow what was left in my mouth. It tasted like hot, salty milk that had been scorched on the stove for too long. Not as bad as it COULD have been, but still not too pleasant.

Freddy eased down my body, looking quite satisfied. “Not bad, little girl,” he murmured. He licked his lips and eyed my crotch, still covered with a mini-sleeping skirt. He made a thoughtful sound. “…I haven’t tasted a virgin in so long…” He trailed the cold knives up my leg and under the hem of the skirt, pulling it up and over my belly. He flicked his knives under the hem of my panties and the cloth easily snipped apart. He tossed the cloth elsewhere and eyed my snatch almost hungrily.

“I think that the good little slut has earned herself a little reward,” he said, flicking his eyes up to mine. He parted my legs, using the palm of his right hand to avoid slicing my leg open, and leaned in, inhaling the scent between my legs. “Mmm…pure, untouched virgin…” With no warning, he dove in, his rough tongue slipping past my folds and delving deep into me.

I arched up off the bed with a short scream. I felt the cords dig painfully in my wrists, but I didn’t care. Freddy worked his tongue hard against me, sucking hard and parting my legs wider with his hands.

‘Look at me, my little slut.’

I obeyed and squirmed around as I looked down at him eating me—devouring me. His eyes flickered up to mine, and I could see sinister laughter in them.

‘Do you like the way I make you feel?’

“Y…yes…!” I gasped, arching again when he sucked hard on my clit.

‘Do you want to feel my hard cock tear away your virgin bitchhood?’

“FUCK…! YES!”

‘Good girl.’ I heard him laughing manically in my head before pulling back and licking any trace of fluid on them into his mouth. He crawled between my legs up my squirming body and pressed his chest to mine and his mouth to my ear. “I’m going to make you scream, bitch,” he whispered roughly. “The neighbors will hear you. They’ll think I’m killing you. They’ll think to themselves ‘there goes another one. Unlucky bitch’.” He ground his hips into mine and I felt his cock rub against my cunt. “But they’ll be wrong. You’re my lucky bitch, aren’t you?” He rocked his hips, humping me and making me squirm harder. “Who’s my lucky bitch?”

“I…I am…!” I gasped, bucking my hips up to meet his. Freddy grinned and reached up with his bladed hand and snipped my cords loose.

“Damn right.” He reached down between us and positioned himself against me and slid the head in. I let out a soft sound and slipped my arms under his own and around his body. Freddy reached up with both hands and gripped the wooden pole on his headboard and with a rough, uncaring thrust of his whole body, rammed into me.

I screamed in pain and tensed up under him, my fingernails tearing into his sweater. Freddy growled heavily in my ear and without pausing to let me adjust, rocked his hips into mine roughly. “Fuck…!” he growled, his left, ungloved hand clutching my shoulder so hard I almost feared he would snap it. “Such…a tight…virgin…bitch….!” He pressed the other hand palm-down next to my head as he thrusted harder into me.

I could feel blood pool onto the already dirty sheets as Freddy fucked me. It hurt like fuck, but all I could do was scream and hold on. Freddy alternated between grunting and letting loose strings of explicatives, and after awhile, he pulled up from my body and sat back on his knees. He hauled my lower body into his lap and looked down, grinning at the sight of our sexes covered in my virgin blood.

“Beautiful,” he hissed, taking his thrusts slower, but harder as he dipped his ungloved finger in the blood and brought it up to his lips to lick clean with his tongue, savoring it like a rare ambrosia. “Sweet…”

I reached forward and clutched at his right arm, my fingers digging into the sleeve. Freddy pressed his left hand to my abdomen to brace himself and rocked his hips faster. His fingers touched my skin everywhere he could find, trailing up to my breasts and groping them as he had done earlier. I gasped for breath and arched to his touch, then groaned in pleasure when he buried all the way in me and ground our hips, creating friction for my clit.

From the elevated position of my hips, I could see how deep he was; all the way inside. His eyes flickered to where I was seeing, and he took my right hand and placed it where we were joined. “Touch,” was all he said, grinding his hips harder.

I moaned with pleasure and did touch where we were joined. I could feel the very base of his cock surrounded by my folds in a deathgrip. As he angled his thrusts upward, I gasped and splayed my hand over his scarred abdomen, feeling the uneven hill-and-valley skin texture. It was such an odd texture, and my fingers couldn’t get enough of it.

I gasped when I felt my body lift itself up on its own until I was sitting on Freddy’s thighs. Freddy curled his right arm around my waist and eased himself down on his back, letting me on top. I sat on him, somehow feeling him go even deeper inside of me, and braced myself up on his chest with my hands.

“Ride me, bitch,” he growled out. I whimpered and rocked my hips back and forth, clenching my fingers into the sweater and seeing droplets of sweat fall onto the cloth and vanish. Freddy’s left hand clenched into my ass and squeezed hard as he thrusted his own hips upward. When he hit a certain spot inside of me, I arched back, my body straightening up and my hips bucking hard into his.

I found a pace—when his hips drew up, mine dropped down; when his lowered, mine raised. This way, I would take more of him deeper. I moved fast on top of him, not restraining any sounds of pain or pleasure I felt. I became aware of a pressure building in my core, where Freddy’s cock kept hitting to make me see stars. I let out a sob and rode him harder, trying to build up that good pressure.

“Cum for me, little slut,” Freddy drew out, pounding his hips up into mine. “Cum for me.” I felt the sharp pain of his knives digging into my lower back. “Cum for Freddy!”

“FUCK!!! FREDDY!!!” I screamed out as an orgasm hit me hard and made my body seize up and all normal body functions cease before groaning and falling limp on Freddy’s body. I numbly felt him roll us over so he was on top and thrust erratically into me before slamming in once more and cumming inside of me. He let out a husky sigh and pulled out, and I could see a mixture of red and white come out with it.

Freddy eyed the mess with morbid fascination for a few moments, then turned over on his back next to me and tucked himself back into his pants. I squirmed around for a moment, wincing at the pain but still feeling small jolts of pleasure run its course through my body. I was aware that Freddy was eyeing me over.

Finally, he pulled a cigarette out of nowhere and made it light itself before taking a long drag and exhaling. “Fuck,” was all he said.

“I thought we just did,” I replied, half out of my mind. Freddy snorted and pressed the butt of the cigarette to my lips. “…I don’t…”

“You do now.” Thinking of how no one could argue with THAT logic, I reluctantly took a drag and felt a black heat run through my body; it didn’t feel like I was inhaling smoke, it felt like I was inhaling pure darkness. No coughing fit followed, so I exhaled, seeing a dark, black smoke escape my lips. Freddy grinned. “Good girl.” He polished off the demonic cigarette and flicked the butt elsewhere. “I have more than half a mind to let you live…to become my new toy.” He eyed me over. “…Or should I go with the option of running my knives through you and fucking your corpse once more?” He held up his knives, the faint trace of my blood glinting off of them.

I looked at them, not at all afraid in the least. “…I wouldn’t mind being alive and aware to do this again,” I murmured. “…If you don’t mind.”

Freddy let out a chilling laugh, and with a flick of his
knives, I found myself in my own room in my own bed, though still naked, sore, and bleeding. Freddy, on the other hand, was now fully clothed, fedora and all, and was reclining lazily against the headboard. I stretched out on my full-sized bed and saw Freddy look around appreciatively. “…You have a lot of morbid crap in here,” he muttered, stroking his hand over my bedspread. “…Nice bed.”

“Care to use this one next time?” I inquired. “More room.” Freddy snorted and stood up, his hand on the top of his hat.

“I’ll think on it,” he replied. He bent down and hauled me into a bruising kiss, then took off his hat and put it on my own head. “Sweet dreams, bitch.”

I woke up with a start, seeing the faint sunlight stream in through my black and red curtains. I felt my heartbeat flutter and put a hand over my chest to calm it down, but all I felt was bare skin. I looked down and felt my stomach lurch.

I was completely naked.

…Dream…?

No. No dream. THAT was real. I felt my right shoulder and winced when I felt the large bruise from where Freddy had clutched it so tightly. I moved a little and gasped at the pain between my legs, and pulled the sheets back to see that I still had blood and cum plastered to my thighs. I reached behind me to the small of my back and hissed when I felt four scratches along it. No dream. Freddy was real. THAT was real.

I then became aware of something on my head. I reached up and took off an old grayed fedora. I stared at it, examined it, and saw written on the inside:

Fred Krueger

At that moment, my radio alarm clock went off, signaling that it was seven in the morning. I reached over to turn it off before realizing what song was playing—

“You can be a sweet dream, or a beautiful nightmare…either way I…don’t want to wake up from you…”

I smiled, caressing Freddy’s hat in my hands.

I couldn’t wait to go to sleep again.