A Nightmare on Elm Street 5: The Dream Child — Adaptation Excerpts
Adapted by Bob Italia
Transcribed by Rob Nimmo
Yvonne sat patiently next to Alice’s hospital bed as Alice’s father conferred with a doctor, Dan’s parents, and two police officers in the hall. Suddenly, Alice’s eyes flew open. “It was him,” she said quietly. Yvonne leaned over. “You’re all right. It’s okay, honey. I’m right here.” Alice stared in confusion at Yvonne. “Alice,” Yvonne said, “Dan’s been in an accident.” Alice shook her head. “It was no accident. It was Krueger. He used to get in through my dreams, but not anymore. He’s found some other way.” “Alice,” Yvonne said, “it’s no dream. I’m sorry—Dan’s dead.” Alice stared at Yvonne as her eyes filled with tears. Then she wept as she clutched Yvonne in a desperate embrace. Alice’s father and the others rushed in. “I’m so sorry, honey…” her father said. “Daddy, he’s coming back. Krueger’s back. Make them understand.” “Calm down, take it easy,” Yvonne said. “You’re hitting shock.” “Alice,” her father said, “the police found fragments of a champagne bottle…” “Dan didn’t drink,” Alice said. “You know that. It was probably for me—to celebrate our trip.” Her father looked away helplessly. “These sorts of outbursts aren’t entirely uncommon,” the doctor said to him. “Many women have them in the first few weeks—especially if they’ve suffered a traumatic shock.” Then he looked at Alice. “But don’t worry, young lady, you’re going to be fine.” “I won’t be fine!” Alice shouted, becoming increasingly hysterical. “And neither will any of my friends! We’ve got to do something! Dan’s already dead—don’t you see? He’s back and he’s just getting started.” Then she frowned as she recalled the doctor’s words to her father. “What do you mean? What’s he talking about? What’s wrong with me?” “Nothing,” Yvonne said in a comforting tone. “You’re… just a little pregnant.” Stunned, Alice closed her eyes tight. A tear trickled down her cheek. “Doctor Moore wants to keep you here overnight,” her father said. “Just for routine observation,” Dr. Moore said. “To make sure you’re as comfortable as possible.” But Alice wasn’t listening. Her eyes opened as she understood the full ramifications. “Dan’s baby…” she muttered.
Later that night, Alice was lying in her hospital bed when a frail little boy entered her room. He wore a white hospital robe and stood motionless, staring at Alice with a transfixed smile of happiness. Alice was startled by his sudden appearance. “Hey,” the boy said, “wake up.” “Hi there,” Alice said. “My name is Jacob.” Alice smiled as the boy continued to stare. “Shouldn’t you be in your room, Jacob?” “It’s lonely in there, in my room.” Alice nodded. “My name is—” “I’m sorry your boyfriend got killed,” the boy interrupted. Alice’s eyes widened. “How did you know that?” “I could tell you were sad. I just wanted to see if you were alright.” He smiled shyly and started out. “Jacob, wait!” Alice cried. “Don’t go!” But the boy disappeared into the darkened corridor.
The next day, Yvonne returned to the hospital to drive Alice home. “Did you see the little boy on my floor?” Alice said to Yvonne as they climbed into the car. “What boy?” Yvonne said, cranking the engine. “Jacob. The one who looks kind of sad.” Yvonne stared at her for a moment. “There weren’t any little boys on your floor.” Alice shrugged. “He must’ve wandered up from the children’s ward. I just wondered what was wrong with him.” Yvonne frowned and shook her head. “They don’t have a children’s ward.” Alice grew puzzled. “But he was wearing a hospital robe.” Yvonne looked at Alice with a blend of impatience and compassion. “I don’t know what to tell you,” she said, throwing the car into gear and driving away from the hospital. “Did you call everyone?” Alice asked. Yvonne hesitated. “They’re waiting for us. But let’s keep this dream stuff between you and me.”
Alice met her friends at her house and led them to her bedroom before closing the door for a very private meeting. There, she tried to convince them that Freddy Krueger was real. “Amanda Krueger was part of a religious order that ran that asylum,” she said. “She was raped and had the baby there in the 1940s. That baby grew up to be Freddy Krueger. He murdered twenty or thirty kids right here on Elm Street.” Sitting at Greta’s feet, Mark glanced up from his sketchpad, intrigued. “He got caught,” Alice continued, “but the courts cut him loose on a technicality. The parents of the murdered kids formed a posse and killed him. Torched him. But tat was just the beginning. He keeps on killing… only now he kills people in their dreams, their nightmares. And he uses my dreams to get his victims.” Greta and Yvonne exchanged doubtful looks. Mark seemed incredulous as he kept on sketching. “That’s why it’s my fault Dan’s dead,” Alice said. “Stop saying that!” Yvonne shouted. “I want to talk about the baby,” Greta said. “Yeah, congratulations, I guess,” Mark said. “That’s not what we’re here for!” Alice shouted angrily. “Look,” Yvonne said, “Dan’s parents were pushing him—pushing him hard. He was complaining about it at the party last night. He was under pressure. We all are.” “Pushy parents can make you more than a bit crazy,” Greta said. “What’s that got to do with it?” Alice asked. “When Dan died, you weren’t even asleep,” Yvonne said. “You said so. End of story.” Alice glared at them. “Then he must have found another way. Listen, this isn’t a joke! He gets through my dreams somehow. I thought I could control it, but something’s changed, and I don’t know what he’ll do next.” Everyone stared at her, not knowing what to say. “Look,” Mark said, “we all liked Dan. And we all love you.” Greta put her hand on Alice’s shoulder. “Bottom line, Alice. Anybody, supernatural or not, that wants to hurt you, he’ll have to go through us first.” “All of us,” Yvonne stated. “Right?” Alice stared at them. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”