A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors — Adaptation Excerpts
Adapted by Bob Italia
Transcribed by Rob Nimmo
Order
TWO
The next morning, Nancy drove to Kristen’s house to meet with Elaine. Nancy guided Elaine through signing a sheaf of hospital forms. Elaine was carefully and expensively dressed in fashionable tennis clothes. “Mrs. Parker,” Nancy said, “was Kristen acting different? Did you notice anything strange before she made the attempt?” Elaine frowned. “Kristen specializes in strangeness. I’ve spent thousands on psychiatrists.” “Did she always have nightmares?” “They’ve gotten worse since I took away her credit cards.” “I’m serious” “Look, Miss Thompson, I don’t know what you want from me?” “Just some answers. There are other kids involved. It’s not just Kristen. All good kids, smart kids.” “I’m sorry to hear that, but you’re the experts on this, not me. If I had any insights, believe me, I’d share them with you.” “I’m sure you would,” Nancy said. Elaine rose. “Now if you will excuse me, I have to get to the club.” “I’ll need to take her things,” Nancy said. “The maid packed a suitcase.” “I’ll get it. Please, I don’t mind.” “First door up the stairs,” Elaine said. Nancy went up to Kristen’s room and found a suitcase on the bed. As she turned to leave, she saw a paper mache house on Kristen’s drafting table. Nancy frowned and approached the table. Then her eyes lit in amazement. It was a model of her old house on Elm Street.
—
That night, Gordon sat at a computer terminal in his study. He hooked the modem to his telephone and accessed a mainframe computer. The screen came to life and he punched in a command. A readout appeared, ticking down an endless list of drug categories. Finally, he found what he was looking for. HYPNOCYL—FDA classification: experimental. Effective for management of psychotic disorders. For sedation where dreamless sleep is considered optimal; suppression of night terrors. Gordon shut down his computer and eased back in his chair.
—
That same night, Nancy sat in her apartment, engrossed in Kristen’s medical file. The paper mache Elm Street house sat on a nearby table. Nancy was getting tired. She started nodding off. Meanwhile, at the hospital, Kristen was lying in bed, sketching on a newsprint pad a charcoal rendering of the Elm Street house. Her eyes began fluttering as she started falling asleep. Then she could hear the distant, ghostly jingling of a tricycle bell. Her eyes slowly opened. Kristen watched in horror as the tricycle rolled into the room by itself, leaving tire tracks. The tricycle came to a stop, then began to glow red-hot and melt, warping and sagging as if from an astonishing inner heat. Kristen got out of bed, edging past the ghastly melting apparition. Then she backed out of the room. But as she did, she found herself in a house—the Elm Street house! Suddenly, the door slammed shut. Kristen was now trapped inside. Kristen tried to open the door, but it was locked. She whirled around, looking for another means of escape. Then she heard a faint buzzing. Kristen entered the dining room. The buzzing grew louder. The table was set for a formal dinner. The remains of a roast pig sat on a platter, covered with flies. Suddenly, the pig leaped up, squealing!
Kristen rushed into the living room. It was foreboding and nearly barren. A large lump formed under the rug at the far end of the room and undulated toward her sinuously. Kristen backed away. The long, tubular shape circled her aimlessly, then slithered up the wall—a huge, writhing entity traveling within the wall surface. The shape arced toward the carpet and disappeared below the floor line. Kristen whirled around apprehensively, searching for the mysterious entity. Suddenly, the creature erupted through the floor directly beneath her in a shower of wood splinters, knocking her down. Just then, Kristen realized the gigantic serpent had Freddy’s face. Its slavering jaws dislocated like a snake’s. “Nancy!” Kristen screamed. Nancy’s eyes fluttered open as she heard the faint reverberation of Kristen’s call. She strained to listen, but all was silent now. Uneasy, Nancy rose from the chair. Then she froze as she heard the unearthly call again. She turned and faced the paper mache house. The sound seemed to emanate from it! Suddenly, the tiny front door swung open slowly. Nancy put her hand to her head, a feeling of dizziness suddenly washing over her. She sank back into her chair—and kept right on going. Nancy burst through a mirror in the living room of the Elm Street house. She struggled to her feet, staring in horror and disbelief. The horrid Freddy serpent was about to gobble up Kristen. Nancy scooped up a long, jagged shard of broken mirror, cutting the palm of her right hand. She approached the serpent, jamming the shard of glass into the serpent’s eye. The serpent released Kristen, then recoiled, ready to strike at Nancy. “You!” Freddy’s enraged voice shouted, recognizing his old foe. Then the serpent roared and lunged for Nancy. Nancy and Kristen rolled out of the way and scrambled out the door. Nancy slammed it shut and locked it. “You pulled me in somehow, didn’t you?” Nancy said. “I… I think so,” Kristen said. The serpent began battering the door, splintering it. “Then get us out!” Nancy cried. Kristen tried to concentrate. The serpent struck the door again, buckling it in its frame. “Now Kristen! Do it now!” “Wake up, wake up, wake up,” Kristen muttered. Suddenly, the door exploded. Freddy’s nightmarish face lunged at them. Nancy thrashed awake in her reading chair, knocking a cup of coffee across the room. She was shaking with terror and confusion, her fists clenched. When she realized it was just a nightmare, she began to relax. But when she opened her right hand, she saw it had been cut.
