The Diary of Frederick Charles Krueger

Alright. I went through and got another chapter of a few more diary entries. Thanks to Darkness Takes Over for clarifying some information. unfortunatly I do have the dates wrong but I'm going to try and correct it. I'm sorry if all of the other older Freddy fans who are reading this and are a little confused. The dates should be of around 1950 ish and I'm about 20 years later. I'm going to make the corrections in this chapter. And again, I'm sorry for the confusion. I'm going to take this to a rather different avenue. THIS CHAPTER IS VERY GRAPHIC AND GRUESOME. SOME OF IT IS RATHER SENSITIVE TO SOME PEOPLE. We all know what Freddy was. He was a child murderer and molester. Wes Craven said it himself he wanted to have a Child molester/killer for NOES, but with the controversy going on in 1983/84 with an acutal pedophile that was making headlines and on the nightly news. He decided to not include that and just make Freddy a child killer. FOR THOSE WHO ARE EASILY OFFENDED OR ANYTHING PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS CHAPTER. IT CONTAINS A SLIGHT DIVE INTO THE MIND OF A CHILD KILLER. I'm going to try and see what I can do on the regards of Wes' original idea for Freddy.

************** I'LL SAY IT AGAIN. THIS CHAPTER IS VERY GRAPHIC AND IF YOU ARE A SENSITVE NATURE READER, PLEASE DO NOT READ THIS. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED TWICE NOW. **************

Dear Diary,

October 25, 1956

I did it. I did it. I did it. I took it all down with a swallow and I felt more alive. There's no more pain, because it was inflicted on him. Watching him, stomping down the stairs calling my name, "Freddy! Freddy! Are you ready for it boy? You have been a waste since the day I took you in. Now it's time to take your medicine". I sat there feeling the cold blade hit my skin as I chuckled. I loved how that blade felt across skin. Almost like silk paper, so beautiful but with just enough pressure, it breaks so delicately. He was still screaming my name trying to find his footing down the wooden stairs. I stood up and turned to him, putting my shirt down over my stomach. He had that damn hat across his eyes and that leather belt gripped tightly in his hands. He slapped the fat part on his left hand, trying to strike fear in my eyes. It only fueled my creativity.

He took his stance and let the belt fall back, ready to strike. He hit my back, right to left, right to left, and all I could do was laugh. You see, in my mind I already figured out the perfect plan and time to get him. I was like Jack the Ripper plotting revenge against the 5 who betrayed him. Every movement was timed, positioned and carried out so quietly even the whores didn't see it coming when they were drunk off of Absinthe laced with Laudunm. As he carried on he suddently stopped.

"Thank you sir, may I have another?" I asked him, seeing the rage building in his bloodshot eyes. He was hitting me again, grunting this time, trying to put all the effort he had within his weak arms. Well, they were weak to me. I grabbed his arms and saw his drunk mind go sober and the terrifying look in his eyes as I looked at him.

"You wanna know the secret of pain?" I asked him, "if you just stop feeling, it you can start to use it." I flared the blade into his face and watched his pupil retract in horror. The blood was still on there, very thinly just enough to see that I had a plan of my own to win at his own game.

I sliced his cheek open and watched it swell with red esscense. He reached for his face and wiped away the blood and shuffled back from me in fear. I walked forward and begin to feel the independence of not having to worry about him hurting me, never hitting me across my back. I backed him into the closet door, my sanctuary of endless wonder of death, and sank the razor blade into his side.

"What the hell do you think you are doing boy?" he asked as he raised his hand, gripping the belt, ready to strike me again. There was no point, diary. I laughed in his face. I remember like it just happened a minute ago but it's been over a year now.

"You know, old man, I'm very tired of you battering me to where I have to make excuses for your wrong doings. When I was young, I was weak as you always said. I'm stronger now. Your pathetic whips of discipline only fuel my desire to end it once and for all. This is for you...dad. It's time to take your medicine. It's long over due."

I grabbed his hand and drew the blade across his neck. It felt like a hot knife going into butter. So clean. The blood splattered from his wound as he tried to breathe and scream. It sprayed onto my face. It was a refreshing reminder to me that it was finally over. He fell upon his knees, grabbing his throat trying to contain the blood which sprayed out faster as he heart raced. Soon, his hand fell and he stared at me. He looked at me and for some odd reason, it was if he was trying to say I'm sorry. I just looked down onto him, and quietly said my final words: "Do unto others as they do unto you." And I hear his last faint breath before he fell upon the cold floor. I kicked him several times in the ribs, feeilng them crack and break against my foot. It was liberating. I took his arm and broke his wrist and shoved his elbow inward with the palm of my hand. Did you know it only takes 8 pounds of pressure to dislocate an elbow? I didn't know how easy it was to do! I mean it was just POP and there it was the join on the inside wall of his inner arm. It looked like a tumor or a round ball. I chuckled and I played around with it. I did the same thing to his other elbow; POP, and there it was the ball of bone protruding his leather-like skin.

With me having my fun I forgot to realize that I was in a basement; how was I to get him out of here? I found that the storm shelter doors were just on the other side of the stairwell. I dragged his body, leaving a thick trail of blood behind his head. I figure that there would be a mess but I really didn't expect it to be so much blood. AllI could remember was me shaking my head and smiling.

"Thanks, fuck head. Even in death, I still have to clean up after you." I finally got his body up the stone stairs into the backyard. Luckily it was nighttime and no one could see me even if I made all the noise in the world. I grabbed a axe, a plastic tarp and a shovel. I knew that it was going to be a long project trying to figure out how to get rid of him. I must have stared at his stone dead eyes for about 10 minutes, trying to figure out a way to get rid of him. The I thought, the refinery on the south end of town. They have an oven. Creamation would be great; no one would ever find him. I grabbed the axe and laid my first strike on his head, it rolled onto its side, rocking gently back and forth until it was still. The I went after his arms and his legs. I cut the tarp and rolled his pieces and then into a black bag. I finally got the abilty to pull the bag over my shoulders. I went out to the truck and threw him into the bed. I started the engine, hearing it turn over and then began my final trip with my fake-dad.

I arrived at the factory and saw the smoke rising from the chimney, the final resting place for him. dragged his mangled bag o parts into the boiler room. I opened the steel hinge, hearing it squeak a little. I ripped the bag open and then placed the pieces in there, one by one. I tossed them in, hearing them hit the back of the incenerator. Watching the plastic melt and catch fire. Seeing the pale skin turn red then black, waching the hairs wither and spark with flame. I stared into that buring grave and finally felt peace within my head. But with everything else. I knew that it wouldn't last. The voices were right. Until I feel life leave from my actions, I will know the feeling of playing God and I didn't want to stop. As the final pieces were wilting and falling apart, I closed the door and left the room. I got back into the truck and went home. I must have stayed down in the basement for about 3 hours, bleaching the floor, scrubbing the grout to remove the stain of red. At long last I finally was done. Nothing was left behind. I fell upon my bed and sighed at long last I didn't have to live in fear. I could be taht fear that sticks in the mind of others. I finally slept good for once in my 16 years of life.

Dear Diary,

March.1958

Today wil be my last entry unto this notebook. It's so tattered as I've held onto it for so long. It held my secrets, my fears and finally my attempt at freedom. I don't think I've ever felt so liberated, so free. Unfortunatly, since fake-dad didn't come "home" after 3 months even with a police search, I cannot stay here. It feels rather weird that I get to leave but for some odd reason, it still call it home. It's all I know. This basement, my bed, it all reminds me of my pain, but quite honestly it's all I know. The voices have stopped for some reason, I haven't heard them since Fake-dad went "missing". Ha ha, missing. Get it?

Since I'm not a grown man and the standing age of eighteen, I think I need to figure out my life. I have no one to keep me back and I feel like a new person. Speaking of new person, I met a girl today. I met her at the diner one night. I just got back from working at the factory (yeah, got a job at the same factory too.) It was a very late night and hardly any one was in the diner. I just sat there sipping my coffee when it began to rain. Just sheets of water falling fast onto the ground. I saw someone running toward the entrance of the diner in a blurry shadow. The bells of the door chimed, as it opened forcefully and the figure stood in a brown coat. I figured it was a girl from looking at her shoes, high small heels with a black matte color. She pulled off the hood of her coat and blotted the rain that hit her face. I could only see her from one side, but her jaw line was flawless. She pulled sandy blonde hair behind her ears, reavealing 2 small earrings within her earlobes, diamonds sparking with the touch of water. She started to come my direction, and found a booth just diagonally from me. I tried not to make such a obvious glare at her. For some odd reason I couldn't stop looking into her green eyes. Emerald sheen with a tint of gold. When I felt her looking over as she took her drenched coat off, I stared into my cup of coffee, watching my face mirroring in the blackness. I sipped carefully and thought of something dashing and charming. The only thing I could muster was a sneeze and a loud ACHOO!

"Bless you." she said and smiled. I reached for my rag, that was dangling outside my back jean pocket and blotted my nose. I nodded my head in thanks and I sniffled, clearing my airway. She looked back at the waitress and asked for a phone she could use. How angelic she sounded when she asked, and so polite. I felt my heart flutter as she got up and walked away. I knew I would have to see her again, really know who she is. I need to know her name. I saw she left her purse within the corner of the booth. So, I grabbed it and caught her attention as I tried to walk carefully toward her, in which I failed because I almost tripped over my own feet. Fuckin' A!

"Here. Don't forget this." I reached my arm out and presented her leather purse.

"Thank you so much. If I lost this I don't know where I would start." She smiled at me. Her teeth so perfect and pristine. As if God granted a gift of such purity within one's mouth. She kindly reached out and grabbed her purse, sliding it up her thin shoulder

"I'm Fred, by the way." I extended my hand out to her. She smiled and looked down at my hand. She didn't move her hands from her purse, and smiled. She walked away toward the door.

"Hey! I didn't catch your name." I said to her as she put her hand on the door to leave

"That's because I didn't throw it," she said as she lifted her head.

I felt like an ass and just started to walk away.

"Good to see you Fred. I'm Loretta. Maybe I'll see you around." She pushed the door and walked back into the rain to a car waiting outside the entrance.

I wonder if I was going to see her again. I watched the car drive away, kicking water behind the tires. I hope she's at the diner tonight.

Dear Diary March 1958

I must have waited for 6 hours for her to come through that door. I must have drank 12 cups of coffee, just hoping if she would come through that door and smile at me again. But no, as fucking always there's nothing for poor old Freddy. I laid my money ont he table and stormed out of the diner, leaving the waitress rather startled. Why is it whenever I want to be able to try something new, that oppertunity never comes through. I was so pissed off that the little cunt didn't come by to see me. I figured her for a flake anyways. As I was walking home, I found a little swingset that sat across the street from an elementary school. I sat in the swing and watched the sky change hues of color from navy blue, to purple, pink orange and then saw the sun peaking up from the horizon. I didn't know why I felt so sad. Usually I'm an angry person, as you and I both know, but I jsut felt the urge of sorrow. Like I lost my mom again. I felt the tears start to well in my eyes and for some odd reason I couldn't stop. The tears turned into silent sobs as I sat there still swinging gently back and forth. I wanted to go home, so I got up and left. I felt so cold walking home, like I wasn't myself. When I reached my front door it was already 7:30. I saw the children starting to arrive at the bus stop on the corner of Elm St. and Hickory. I sat at the bottom stair of my walkway and just stared at them. They were smiling, giggling and playing around. I chuckled and gave a half smile. Even being an adult, I wished I could be a child still. Feel no weight upon my young shoulders and just enjoy playing on the playground with my friends. Unfortunatly, it was only a distant dream that just kept being ripped from my grasp. I heard the scruffling of shoes coming down the sidewalk and saw it was a small girl in a blue dress. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail. She was skipping down the sidewalk with her backpack hopping on her back. When I saw her, I felt a strange feeling. I felt the voices started up in my head. They were whispering.

"Mmm...she looks so sweet. I wonder how she tastes. Hey Freddy, can you see her panties. Are they white or do they have little polka-dots on them?"

I tried so hard to keep the voices at bay, I had to be good so I can start my new life. I couldn't go back and revert all over again. But something in my head stared at the girl as she skipped down the sidewalk. Her dress came up to her mid thighs and I felt the heat again. Like when I was choking myself. The heat turned into a tickle that just found to be between my legs. I looked down and saw that my dick was hard again. I was shocked immediatly, as if some beautiful woman walked by, with breasts so large and a dress so tight you could see her outline of her slim body. But I just kept looking at that girl, and biting my lip as I tried to contain my urges.

"Isn't she something?" "Yeah, I would love to get between those sweet legs and taste her rainbow." They kept talking about it and I felt myself even more aroused as she walked by. I couldn't take it, I ran into the house slamming the door. I went to the kitchen and grabbed the kitchen knife. I made a bee line to the bathroom, closing the door with a loud thud. I tore my pants from my waist and threw them into the bathtub along with my underwear. And there it was. My erection starting at me. I held the knife so firm in my hands and thought of only one thing. Cut it away.

I put the blade on the shaft close to my abdomen. I felt the the sharp edge as it rested, waiting for me to execute. But I didn't find myself appling any pressure. My left hand started to stroke. Slow at first, pinching at the head. My eyes rolled in the back of my head and I couldn't find any means to stop. I released the pressure of the knife and put it in the sink. I licked my palms and began what I thought was something only the voices in my head wanted me to do. Diary it's too horrible to describe to you what I was looking at. My emotions were flying in every direction; this is bad but it feels too good. Why are you thinking such a thought, but it only makes me want more. I wanted more. I wanted that little girl.

It seemed forever when I came out of the bathroom, wiping my hands with tissue with my pants back on me. I sat on the couch and just stared into the fireplace. It was cold and black, somehow I felt the same way. It was so confusing as to why I did what I just did. Why was it more of a glorious feeling rather than a horrible thought? I sat there and thought of ways to come around it. But I always came back to the same thing. Because I wanted to feel her on me. I wanted to feel her innocence be broken like it was mine so I can finally see that I wasn't alone. The thought of her blue dress came back into my head and I felt the warm tickle again. Oh, God, it's coming back. Just even writing in this journal, my pants are about to rip from my boner. I can't do this right now. I need to get out of the house.