Freddy’s Dead: The Final Nightmare — Adaptation Excerpts

Posted on: September/1/1992 12:01 AM

Adapted by Bob Italia
Transcribed by Rob Nimmo


Tracy entered the bedroom, but Carlos was gone. She found his hearing aid on the floor, stared at it momentarily, then shoved it in her pocket before heading down the stairs. Tracy returned to the living room where Spencer was slumped on a rotted couch. He was barely awake as he stared glassy-eyed at a smashed television. “I can’t find Carlos,” Tracy said to him. Spencer’s eyes began fluttering. “You see what’s on TV?” Tracy scoffed in frustration. “I’m taking the van to look for him.” Then she stalked away. Spencer kept his fluttering eyes on the television. Dozens of desperate teen faces pressed against the inside of the tube. Carlos appeared in the background. “Get out!” they screamed at Spencer. “Run! Leave now!” Spencer just smiled. “Carlos, man,” he said lazily, “we were just looking for you.” Then he fell asleep.

Maggie and John entered the orphanage, peeling paint and broken toys marking the entrance. They walked through corridors lined with empty rooms and faded wallpaper. “We shouldn’t have come here,” Maggie said. “We’re supposed to be finding out about you, not some dead killer’s child.” “You might be talking about the same thing,” John said. Maggie frowned. “Look, this entire town is obsessing over this Krueger character. That doesn’t mean you have to join them.” “Why else would they be afraid of me? Why else would I still be alive, when all the others are dead? And why else would I have been doing the research?”

Before Maggie could answer, they heard a voice in a room at the corridor’s end. As they drew closer, they could tell it was a woman’s voice. She was singing to some tinny music. Maggie and John peered into the room. They saw a slender elderly woman with scraggly hair and a faded old dress standing in the middle of an empty room. She conducted the imaginary class as a beat up old phonograph piped out some nursery music. “Keep up, Jeffrey,” the woman called out. “Martha, no running. Everyone hold hands.” Then she noticed Maggie and John. “Oh, you’ve come back. How nice.” “Do you remember me?” John asked. “Of course I do, my boy. I remember every one of my children.” She turned to Maggie. “Especially you. What a pretty little girl you were.” Maggie’s eyes widened. “And I remember you, and you, and you,” the woman said, pointing to the air. “Do you remember the Krueger child?” John said. “I remember all my children.” “Who was it?” John asked desperately. The woman hesitated. “We’re not permitted to disclose a child’s real identity.” Then she turned to the imaginary class. Maggie wandered to the corner of the room. She knelt down and stared at something on the floor. “John!” she called out.

John rushed over and looked down at the stick figures on the crudely drawn family portrait. The daddy was in a red and green sweater. A childish signature read: K. KRUEGER. “It could mean anything from Kevin to Kyle.” “All this means is there was a child here with that name,” Maggie said. “It’s me,” John said in panic. “I’m his kid and that’s why I’m still alive. He’s playing some sick game with me.” “He is dead,” Maggie stated. “And you are not his child.” “How do you know? That woman remembered me.” “That woman also remembered me, and about fifty other imaginary playmates. Let’s get out of here. This whole town needs a squadron of psychiatrists.” Maggie and John left the orphanage. But as they descended the front steps, the van pulled up. “I can’t believe I found you!” Tracy said. “What are you still doing here?” Maggie said. “I can’t find Carlos. We tried to leave but we kept getting lost and now I can’t find Carlos. And he doesn’t even have his hearing aid!” “Where’s Spencer?” “Back at this old house we found.” John’s eyes widened. “C’mon. We have to get to him before Freddy does!”

Spencer was lying on the couch, the glow from the TV illuminating his face. His half-lidded eyes started to move as he responded to the serious-looking teen doing a public service commercial. The teen stood over a stove, frying pan in hand. The pan was full of crackling oil. “Okay, one more time. This is your brain.” The teen held up a pair of eggs and dropped them into the pan. They immediately began to fry. “And this is your brain on drugs. Any questions?” Suddenly, a frying pan rapped the teen on the head. He dropped from view, replaced by Freddy Krueger’s ugly face. “Yeah,” Freddy responded, “what are you on? It looks like a frying pan and some eggs to me! Hey Spencer, let’s trip out!” Spencer stared at the screen in amazement. Suddenly, the TV screen became a kaleidoscope of swirling colors. Spencer got up and walked to the screen to get a better look. “Cool,” he said, leaning in. Just then, the TV stretched forward and pulled in Spencer. “Game time!” Freddy’s voice echoed.

Maggie, Tracy and John burst into the Elm Street house and rushed into the living room. “Now Spencer’s gone!” Tracy said. John paused, sensing something in the air. “He must have fallen asleep.” “I’ll look downstairs,” Maggie said. “You two look here and upstairs.” “They’re not here anymore,” John insisted. Maggie rolled her eyes. “Just humor me and look—now!” “What’s he talking about?” Tracy said to Maggie. “Nothing, just go.” Maggie rushed down the basement stairs. A rumbling sound attracted her attention to a walled-up section of the basement. The cement wall had cracks in it and seemed loose.

Suddenly, she heard a scraping sound behind the wall. “Carlos? Spencer?” The scraping continued. Maggie spotted a piece of twine on the floor, embedded in the cement. As she pulled it, the twine moved up and around the cement wall, outlining a doorway. The cement fell away, revealing a hidden room. Maggie peered inside. Dozens of articles recounting Freddy’s infamous rampage lined the walls. Several early models of Freddy’s glove were scattered about. Her eyes widened. “This was Krueger’s house?” Maggie noticed steps leading up to a cellar door. She headed for them. Maggie came up through the cellar doors and entered a backyard garden. A tall wood fence rimmed the yard. As Maggie looked around, she saw the water tower beyond the fence.

Spencer found himself in a colorful, fast-moving video game. He was navigating a sheer brick wall as objects rolled toward him, trying to make him fall. Freddy sat in front of the TV in his boiler room, a wired control device with a joystick in his hand. “Now I’m playing with power!” he said, laughing maniacally. Freddy pressed the button marked JUMP. Spencer involuntarily jumped over the advancing objects and fell off the wall, landing in a subterranean landscape of pipe and concrete bunkers. Spencer turned and faced a new menace—a computer version of his dad, complete with tennis shorts and a racquet. “Dad?” he said in confusion. The computer dad started whacking at Spencer with the tennis racquet. “Be a man, be a man, be a man!” he droned. Freddy laughed horribly. “Father knows best!” Then he pressed the TURBO button. The computer dad sped up and kept whacking Spencer. “Be like me, be like me, be like me!” he cried. Spencer grabbed the racquet and pounded the computer dad over the head, collapsing his cartoon body. “Be like ME!” a deeper voice said from behind. Spencer whirled around and saw a bigger computer dad with a bigger racquet approaching. Suddenly, Spencer’s arms extended involuntarily. Fireballs shot from his fists. The computer dad exploded in a bright burst of energy. Just then, Spencer found himself punching wildly through a maze of brick walls. He couldn’t stop. “Great graphics!” Freddy cried, twisting the joystick.

Spencer flew through a video game wall and crashed into the Elm Street house dining room, landing on the table. “I found Spencer!” John shouted. Maggie and Tracy rushed into the room. Lying on the table, Spencer convulsed in his sleep. His arms flailed about as if something heavy were on top of him. Black and blue bruises appeared all over Spencer’s body. Inside the video game, a cartoon version of Freddy was stomping on Spencer with jerky movements. “What’s happening to him?” Maggie cried. “He’s stuck in a nightmare!” John shouted. “Well wake him up!” Maggie said. “I tried,” John said. “Freddy’s got him!” “Freddy?” Tracy said, wide-eyed. “Then what you said is true—he’s real! “We have to get him out!” Maggie said. “I’ll go into his dream, try and bring him out before he gets killed.” John said. “That’s crazy,” Maggie stated. Suddenly, Spencer’s body flew up and hit the ceiling. It remained there for a moment before crashing on the table. “What do you call that?” John said to Maggie. “Rational?” Spencer’s body jumped up and began bouncing around the house, punching holes in the walls at super speed. Maggie chased after him. “He’s getting trashed!” Tracy said. “I have to go in,” John said. “What about Freddy?” “Freddy won’t hurt me. I’m family.” He headed for a corner. “How do you plan to go in?” Tracy asked. John grabbed a loose piece of wood and handed it to Tracy. “I’m too torqued-up to sleep. You’ll have to put me under.” Tracy looked at the piece of wood, then at John. “What?” “Put me under—now!” “Wait. Doc taught me an easier way.” “There’s no time to talk. Just do it!” John slapped her in the face. Enraged, Tracy acted instinctively, hitting John on the head with the piece of wood. John tumbled onto the dining room table, unconscious.

In his dream, he crashed through a boiler, landing hard on the catwalk. He sat up and held his head. Just then, Tracy floated softly down and landed next to him. “I told you I knew an easier way. Concentration meditation, just like Doc said.” John was about to reply when he heard Freddy’s insane laughter. They traced it to another part of the boiler room where they saw Freddy sitting in front of a TV, playing the Spencer video game. On the screen, the cartoon Freddy was pounding Spencer. Tracy raced toward Freddy and kicked the control out of his hand. Then she ripped the cord from the TV. The video-Freddy went limp, allowing Spencer to start smashing it. Freddy whipped out his glove. It turned into a power glove. He laughed. “Forgot the remote!” Then he made a few abrupt, jerking moves on the glove. The video-Freddy began banging away at Spencer. Then it delivered a final punch that sent Spencer flying off the screen. Suddenly, the TV exploded in a shower of sparks. “Hey!” Freddy exclaimed. “I beat my high score!” Spencer’s body bounced down the stairs of the Elm Street house. The rug peeled back at the bottom of the stairs, revealing rotten wood planks. Maggie watched helplessly as Spencer bounced through the planks and into the awaiting pit. “Spencer!” she cried. Maggie leaned over the pit’s edge and was greeted by an upsurge of blue light. As the blue light hit Freddy’s body, he seemed to grow a little bigger. “Oh yeah,” he said with delight to John and Tracy, “it’s good to be back in business.” Then he looked at John. “Thanks to you!” “Shut up!” Tracy said. Freddy grinned as Tracy began fading away. When she woke, she found Maggie shaking her by the shoulders. “Spencer’s gone!” Maggie said tearfully. “I couldn’t stop it!” Tracy reached up and grabbed her. “John’s still in there!” Maggie looked at John’s trembling body. “I can’t wake him up!” “What are we going to do?” Tracy cried. Maggie composed herself. “We’re going to pick him up, and then we’re getting out of here!” Maggie and Tracy dragged John into the back of the van. Then, with Maggie driving, the van raced toward the town border.

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