charlie knight ; freddy krueger (comingforyou) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2010-10-18 17:02:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | dream, freddy krueger |
Who: Charlie and Tristan
What: A dream encounter
Where: Some poor kid's nightmare
When: Tomorrow night
Warnings: Bad things
Tonight was a good night.
Charlie was getting much better at using his ability, and finding new ways to cut corners when it came to the weak spots. Whereas he used to randomly infiltrate various dreams and work with whatever he stumbled upon, he could now pinpoint a specific dreamer and focus on them. Not that he didn't mind the variety, but he wanted to go back to his roots - to the children, whose fear needed to rise to levels previously unknown. Taunting them in their nightmares was one thing, and even cutting them up so they awakened with unexplained injuries was satisfying... but he wanted more.
He wanted to kill. He wanted Seattle to suddenly be faced with the fact that something was slaughtering their children while they slept, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
Before Charlie arrived, the dream was happy and full of bright colors; cheerful carnival music filled the sunny air as gaudy clowns did tricks and kind vendors offered cotton candy at every turn. The rides were flashy and loud, the sound of laughing children rising and falling in waves amidst the music. Abigail Edwards was only nine, a cherub-faced pigtailed little girl with blue eyes - the very personification of innocence. Her cheerful little dreamland, however, had undergone a serious transformation once The Boogeyman arrived.
The sky was black, and the carnival grounds were now (mostly) deserted - the laughter had long since died, and the music had been replaced by an eerie tune that echoed endlessly across the nightmare. The rides and tents looked as though they'd been stationary for centuries, worn and tattered and - if it was possible - almost sinister, as though the entire carnival was somehow alive and malevolently aware of its surroundings. Blood stained the grass, and if one listened hard enough they could hear a child's whimpered pleas coming from within the warped House of Mirrors.
That was where Abigail was, cowering in fear and lost in a labyrinth of mirrors that showed her grotesque horrors at every turn. Charlie (although he wasn't Charlie now, but rather the dark figure known as The Boogeyman) lurked within the mirrors and laughed, occasionally reaching out with bloodstained bladed fingers and spilling a little more of her innocent blood, earning a high-pitched scream from his victim.
She was going to die here, alone and scared, and he was going to enjoy every fucking minute of it.