Freddy vs Jason: My story
folder
M through R › Nightmare on Elm Street
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
12
Views:
2,789
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
M through R › Nightmare on Elm Street
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
12
Views:
2,789
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Nightmare on Elm Street movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Survival of the fittest
Still in Springwood, again, my own rehash of what happened in the movie, which is slightly different. More deaths and Will, Kia, Lori, Linderman escape-or so they hope.
Disclaimer: I do not own Freddy, Jason, Gibb, etc. Only the premise is mine.
Chapter 9: Survival of the fittest
It was dark now, a full twenty-four hours since Blake’s body had been found in Lori’s backyard and neither Lori nor Kia was up to the challenge of fighting sleep. They sat hunched in Mark’s brother’s van, two cups of coffee that they sipped at random intervals. Will was in the driver’s seat, the keys in the ignition, the engine idle.
The passenger door flung open and Mark got in, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the entire van. Will turned to look at him, a concerned look on his face. “Drive!”
“What happened?”
“Just drive, Will! Just drive!” A reluctant Will turned the key and started to back out of the driveway. They were stopped when two police cars blocked their way. “Shit! No! No!” The three looked at Mark, very worried, not just because of the cops but because Mark was flipping out.
“Will, what are we going to do?” Officers were out, guns drawn, ready for a battle they weren’t about to get.
Will pulled the van back into the driveway, turned to the left, drove through the neighbor’s yard, and floored it out of the neighborhood. Mark seemed to quiet down after the police fiasco, though the trio worried, nonetheless.
Lori sat in the passenger side, Kia in the back, both trying their hardest to stay awake. Bam! Someone slammed on the van’s door, making all four jump. Will pulled the van over and the door Mark had been leaning against flew open. “Linderman?” said Lori, a puzzled look on her face. “What are you doing out here so late?”
“We need help. Fast.”
“Who’s we?” Linderman half-dragged half-carried Freebird. Despite the darkness that surrounded them, they could make out the blood that seeped through Freebird’s shirt, cuts that were deep and certainly fatal. Linderman himself had blood gushing from a blow to the right side of his head.
“Shit! What happened?”
“There was this… thing and it wore a hockey mask and it had a huge machete. He was chopping through kids like they were pieces of grass.” He stopped and Mark and Will helped drag him through and into the van.
“I thought Freddy had nails for fingers?” asked Lori.
“He does.”
“Well, who’s behind the hockey mask?” No one answered. Freebird moaned. “Hang in there. We’re almost at a hospital.” He mumbled something, slumped into Linderman, and died.
“Oh shit! What now?” Will drove in silence, his knuckles white. When they saw the hospital, they did the only good thing they could do: carried Freebird in and left him on an abandoned stretcher, a sheet draped over him.
“Where do we go now?”
“What about that place Gibb told you about?” Lori sighed and handed Kia her cell.
“Here’s hoping he’ll take in the rest of us.”
“Amen.”
---
Gibb had returned to Dr. Gordon’s house, feeling like she had just been punched in the stomach, her head throbbing with worry and fatigue.
Why?
She shook her head. “Trey? Where are you?”
No answer.
“Trey? Trey?”
“In the den! Hurry!” She walked slowly, trying to hide the fear and apprehension when she saw Dr. Gordon was with him.
“What’s going on?”
“We almost had him! Baby, we were so close!”
She nodded and said, “Trey, I really need to talk to you.”
“Fine. But we need to get this asshole while we still can. We’ll talk after.”
“Trey…”
“All right, let’s get ready to dream.” With a sigh, she reluctantly sat next to Trey and focused on the pendulum, her eyelids drooping slowly.
Disclaimer: I do not own Freddy, Jason, Gibb, etc. Only the premise is mine.
Chapter 9: Survival of the fittest
It was dark now, a full twenty-four hours since Blake’s body had been found in Lori’s backyard and neither Lori nor Kia was up to the challenge of fighting sleep. They sat hunched in Mark’s brother’s van, two cups of coffee that they sipped at random intervals. Will was in the driver’s seat, the keys in the ignition, the engine idle.
The passenger door flung open and Mark got in, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the entire van. Will turned to look at him, a concerned look on his face. “Drive!”
“What happened?”
“Just drive, Will! Just drive!” A reluctant Will turned the key and started to back out of the driveway. They were stopped when two police cars blocked their way. “Shit! No! No!” The three looked at Mark, very worried, not just because of the cops but because Mark was flipping out.
“Will, what are we going to do?” Officers were out, guns drawn, ready for a battle they weren’t about to get.
Will pulled the van back into the driveway, turned to the left, drove through the neighbor’s yard, and floored it out of the neighborhood. Mark seemed to quiet down after the police fiasco, though the trio worried, nonetheless.
Lori sat in the passenger side, Kia in the back, both trying their hardest to stay awake. Bam! Someone slammed on the van’s door, making all four jump. Will pulled the van over and the door Mark had been leaning against flew open. “Linderman?” said Lori, a puzzled look on her face. “What are you doing out here so late?”
“We need help. Fast.”
“Who’s we?” Linderman half-dragged half-carried Freebird. Despite the darkness that surrounded them, they could make out the blood that seeped through Freebird’s shirt, cuts that were deep and certainly fatal. Linderman himself had blood gushing from a blow to the right side of his head.
“Shit! What happened?”
“There was this… thing and it wore a hockey mask and it had a huge machete. He was chopping through kids like they were pieces of grass.” He stopped and Mark and Will helped drag him through and into the van.
“I thought Freddy had nails for fingers?” asked Lori.
“He does.”
“Well, who’s behind the hockey mask?” No one answered. Freebird moaned. “Hang in there. We’re almost at a hospital.” He mumbled something, slumped into Linderman, and died.
“Oh shit! What now?” Will drove in silence, his knuckles white. When they saw the hospital, they did the only good thing they could do: carried Freebird in and left him on an abandoned stretcher, a sheet draped over him.
“Where do we go now?”
“What about that place Gibb told you about?” Lori sighed and handed Kia her cell.
“Here’s hoping he’ll take in the rest of us.”
“Amen.”
---
Gibb had returned to Dr. Gordon’s house, feeling like she had just been punched in the stomach, her head throbbing with worry and fatigue.
Why?
She shook her head. “Trey? Where are you?”
No answer.
“Trey? Trey?”
“In the den! Hurry!” She walked slowly, trying to hide the fear and apprehension when she saw Dr. Gordon was with him.
“What’s going on?”
“We almost had him! Baby, we were so close!”
She nodded and said, “Trey, I really need to talk to you.”
“Fine. But we need to get this asshole while we still can. We’ll talk after.”
“Trey…”
“All right, let’s get ready to dream.” With a sigh, she reluctantly sat next to Trey and focused on the pendulum, her eyelids drooping slowly.