Nine...Ten...He's back again... (Sevenpercent x Kiki)

[KiKi Umara Death]

A light flipped on in a small bedroom upstairs. Kiki looked around her new room in dismay. She hated moving A LOT. The worst part about it all was the unpacking portion. So many damn boxes. Grumbling she moved over to her bed and cleaned it off. Well at least now she'd be able to go to sleep when she was finished. Her parents had got on her case about her room and said it was high time she accepted this new house. So she decided to unpack finally.

Kiki was normally a well behaved girl and never caused any trouble. But she never liked moving much and on top of it all there was something about this house she didn't like. Picking up a random box she set it on her bed and began to sort through it. Halfway through it her blue eyes focused on a picture. Picking it up she looked over it. It was of her and her friends from her old school. Biting her bottom lip she dropped it back into the box.

She couldn't do this right now. She was still highly uncomfortable and sad. Having always been socially awkward it had been hard to make friends. Now it was going to be hard all over again. She brushed her long raven black hair over her shoulders and sat on her bed. Sighing she flopped backwards and closed her eyes. Oh what a day. Even though it was only six she felt so drained. Maybe if she took a nap and with that thought in mind she let herself drift off...

It was just another dream. One of the many reoccurring dreams she had had through out her life. This one was about her elementary days. Third grade had always been one of her favorite years simply because her teacher, Mrs. Purdy, had been one of her favorite teachers of her entire school career. There was never really anything odd about these dreams. She was just in class answering questions. It always started out like this. They were always the same questions too. Math questions to be exact. She watched eagerly from her desk as Mrs. Purdy scribbled problems on the board.

 

[sevenpercentsolution]

If anyone had ever bothered to ask - which they hadn't, since conversations with him tended to be short-lived - Freddy Krueger would have said he didn't regret his decision.

No, he had never once regretted his choice when the eponymous Dream Demons had come to him with their offer - after all, what total yutz wouldn't have taken them up on it? After being burned alive, the sound of 'eternal life' had been music to his mangled, melted ears, and the job was nice and cushy - well suited to all of Krueger's particular talents. Right up his metaphysical alley.

So he hadn't hesitated when they'd presented him with a delightfully new kind of eternal damnation, he hadn't even protested at the idea that he might never take on an actual physical form again - though he'd even managed to bend that rule a few times, too. Ultimately, he had set into his new incorporeal lifestyle with gusto and, well - it hadn't always turned out the way he'd planned. As it turned out, a few of the Elm Street kids had gotten better at surviving these days.

Ever since the introduction of the newly FDA approved Hypnocil to Springwood, Freddy's fun had been dying off - kids were popping pills like glam rock junkies to keep the boogeyman away. They thought they were safe; they told themselves the fear was gone because he was being kept at bay by their medications and their rules, but the very fact that they were registering and monitoring their teenagers like endangered animals was evidence enough that the fear was still very much alive in them.

He just needed a gateway.

Without one, Freddy Krueger was just a ghoul lurking from dream to dream; his legend hadn't extended far past Springwood, rendering his powers useless, making him the equivalent of the monster in the closet or the ghost under the bed. What he needed was a mind that wasn't blocked off by Hypnocil, one that he could use, because being reduced to a scary face in some middle-aged mother's dream wasn't good enough.

Making someone wake up in a cold sweat was old hat, he needed something more tangible. He needed the fear to come alive again, he needed his name out in Springwood once again - the teens he had played with so long ago, they were having kids of their own these days. They had grown up into teenagers who hadn't even heard of him, an entire generation unspoiled by his existence just wouldn't do.

Just one would suffice. More was better, but he only needed one. Just one sweet, delightfully teenage mind for him to defile, one to relieve him of the boredom that was plaguing his existence.

He could never be sure of how much time had passed since he had last been in the forefront of Springwood's collective memory, but it was long enough for him to pass from town to town and city to city and country to country in search of something, anything to tide him over.

But very recently, something was tugging him back again, a gut instinct that was pulling him unresistingly back to Elm Street, back to the warm, fiery place in his rotted out chest cavity, all the way back to where it began.

1428.

And there she was, encapsulated in her dream, sitting in class, a teenager surrounded by her tiny schoolmates, her pale hand in the air as she eagerly answered Mrs. Purdy's questions. For a moment, Freddy chewed on the shimmering, razor sharp tip of a claw, trying to quell his own eagerness, relishing the moment as he considered what angle to approach this from.

He couldn't waste this, not when she was his only link.

No, he needed her fear to gain strength.

"Carpe diem." Freddy said, shrugging his thin shoulders; time to seize the day. Or night, in his case.

Mid-way through writing out a simple equation, Mrs. Purdy stopped what she was doing and back pedalled, her hand jerking suddenly to the left side of the board as though it was moving against her will and she began writing a new equation:

1+2

One boy in the class mechanically put up his hand,

"Three?"

Mrs. Purdy didn't respond, instead, she began slashing the chalk violently against the board, writing in big, messy letters:

1+2= COMING FOR YOU

3+4= LOCK YOUR DOOR

The chalk in the school teacher's hand had been rapidly depleted by her violent scrawl but her hand continued to move, grinding her fingers into the board, an action that caused her nails to snap and her fingertips to begin blossoming blood, which began to replace the chalk.

5+6=

Mrs. Purdy, bloody and crazed with pain, turned robotically on the spot and pointed a broken, mangled finger at Kiki.

"You," she said shrilly, "Come up here and write the answer!"

 

[KiKi Umara Death]

As she was about to answer the question that was being written she saw her teacher jerk to the other side of the board. Immediately she knew something was wrong. This dream never ever strayed out of it’s normal repetitive series of events. Her eyes widened as Mrs. Purdy began to write, rather violently, equations that didn’t make any sort of sense.

1+2= Coming for you?...
3+4= Lock your door?...

What in the hell did any of that mean? Just when she thought the situation couldn’t get any stranger she watched as sticky crimson lettering began to replace the white chalk. Fear began to overtake her as she watched her teacher write another equation with her mangled bloody stubs. Just as she got to her feet and began to back her way her teacher turned to her. As she moved she saw the last equation.

5+6=

Hearing her demanding her to solve it she almost wanted to bolt from the classroom. But she got a gut feeling telling her what a bad idea it would be. So, absolutely scared out of her mind, she made her way to the front of the room and took a piece of clean chalk in her hand. Her hand shaking she lifted it up and wrote in “11” at the end of the equation. She knew it was the wrong answer for this strange set of problems though…

 

[sevenpercentsolution]

Mrs. Purdy stood tensely, her bloody, dripping hands held out at her sides as Kiki nervously made her way up to the chalkboard, eyeing the equation critically. After a moment of hesitation, Kiki carefully wrote out the only sensible answer, and Mrs. Purdy's face immediately twisted into one of fitful rage,

"Wrong!" She shrieked, her face slowly colouring pink with anger "You stupid child! You worthless, stupid --"

Purdy's colour was rapidly progressing through the spectrum; she had gone from pink, to red, to a dark purple within moments, and suddenly her voice was reduced to rattling chokes as though she was being depleted of oxygen right in front of Kiki. She brought her hands up to her own throat, bloody fingers clawing at it as though trying to remove some force that was closing her windpipe, her eyes rolling back in her head as she kicked and struggled, violent noises escaping her as the classroom began to melt away around them.

The desks at the far side of the room collapsed into piles of sawdust, the walls began to crumble, the classroom being taken over by a vast black that was rapidly approaching Kiki, leaving only her, the dying Mrs. Purdy, and an open doorway that led to a second, empty classroom.

 

[KiKi Umara Death]

Kiki immediately backed away when her teacher became enraged. Her eyes widened in horror as her teacher began to changed colors. Her bottom lip began to tremble as she watched her...being strangled?...As Mrs. Purdy began to fight the invisible force choking at her Kiki looked around to try and find an exit.

As she looked for a way out she saw the room beginning to deteriorate around them. As the vast blackness began to close in around them Kiki decided to bolt. Taking off she ran into the next class room and slammed the door shut. Trying to calm her breathing she leaned against the door. "What the fuck is going on?" She muttered her eyes darting about the room for anything else horrifying.

 

[sevenpercentsolution]

((ooc| I do hope that it's alright I'm tugging Kiki around a bit - Freddy's world isn't always uh, consensual.))

ic|

The second classroom was nearly identical to the first, plain white brick walls decorated with children's drawings, an enormous blackboard that took up the front of the room - but the key difference was that it was nearly barren of furniture, save for a professor's desk at the far side of the room.

As Kiki stood with her back against the door - as though that would help - the doorknob began to rattle, shaking from side to side as though someone was trying to open it, and the attempts grew more and more violent before it finally stopped, bathing the room in complete silence.

And then, without warning, a chair emerged through the closed door, phasing through it as though it hadn't even been there, bashing up against the back of Kiki's legs to knock her into it and sliding aggressively forward, towards the centre of the room as though putting her in the spotlight. Behind her, the handle rattled again, but this time it completed its turn and the door swung open, followed by slow, steady footsteps.

A voice filled the room, gravelly and rumbling,

"Good morning class. Mrs. Purdy couldn't be with us today."

Above Kiki, the ceiling opened up like a black hole, dropping the limp body of her teacher through, where it landed in a wet, mangled mass directly at her feet.

"She's fallen ill."

He moved around to the front of the classroom, dressed in slacks and a wool suitjacket, complete with leather elbow patches, he was the picture of a school teacher, save for the fedora that obscured his face; Freddy brought his hand up towards the chalkboard, slowly raking his claws along the surface, creating a nearly unbearable shrieking noise.

"I'll be your substitute today." he continued, turning towards the chalkboard and beginning to run a claw along it with more precision, messily carving out 'Mr. Kreuger', "Mr. Kreuger."

 

[KiKi Umara Death]

(( I'm aware. I love how things are progressing though. No worries. n.n))

Kiki let out a cry of panic as the chair knocked her back into it. Once the chair stopped in the center she moved to stand up quickly. But her movements were halted by the sound of the door being flung open. "Oh fuck." She mumbled her tones panic stricken. As the sound of footsteps filled the air a voice followed. The tone was anything but friendly.

Looking towards the open door she tried to make out the figure approaching. Just then she heard a sickening splatter. Looking down at her feet she saw the mangled form off her former school teacher. She choked back a scream of terror and jumped to her feet. As she backed away from the chair and the bloody mess she noticed a figure moving about the room.

He looked like an average school teacher. But what was with the hat? She backed away further from the scene as a deafening noise filled the air. Covering her ears she watched him rake what looked to be claws across the chalk board. After the terrible noise stopped she uncovered her ears hearing him speak again. Who the fuck was this guy anyway?...Just as she thought about she got her answer as he carved his name into the board. Mr. Krueger?...

Feeling her back hit the far wall her breathing quickened. It seemed she had reached her limit for moving away from this awful man. Looking from side to side she saw no exit. The door from before was now gone and the only thing left to focus on was the man at the front of the room. So her gaze fixed on him while she waited for him to turn to her or for her to wake up. She prayed for the second option...