Freddy’s Dead: The Final Nightmare — Adaptation Excerpts

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

Adapted by Bob Italia
Transcribed by Rob Nimmo


John woke up in his bedroom, screaming. Then he sat up and looked around. “Not again. He’s not gonna get me again. Nothing’s gonna get me off this bed.” Suddenly, the bed burst into flames. The flames spread quickly throughout the room. “I hate this house,” he said. He dove out the window as the roaring flames advanced. John found himself plummeting in the darkness. He noticed a string hanging from his shirt. It had a tag on it which read: IN CASE OF EMERGENCY, PULL STRING. When he pulled it, a parachute shot out from under his shirt and violently yanked him up. He floated down toward earth, relieved for the moment. But the relief vanished when he heard laughter from above. He looked up and saw Freddy hanging flat against the inside top of the parachute. Suddenly, he launched himself toward John. Freddy grabbed John’s arm to stop his fall, then drew his body close. “I know who I am now,” John said, terrified. Freddy grinned. “Really?” “I know why you let me go.” “You think I’m your daddy?” Freddy began sawing through the parachute cords with his blades. “You’re wrong!” The cords began snapping. “But you let me live!” John cried in panic. “Only long enough to bring my daughter back. She’s gonna take me to a whole new playground!” Freddy began sawing through the final cord. John shook his head “no.” Freddy shook his head “yes.” Then the final cord snapped, sending John on a death plunge. “You’re grounded,” Freddy said with laughter. John looked down and saw a bed of spikes on the ground. He was headed straight for them.

Maggie pulled the van to the side of the road as John’s body began convulsing. But when she and Tracy dragged him from the van, dozens of red holes appeared all over his body. “John!” Maggie said, weeping. “I…I was wrong,” John gasped. “It’s not a boy…” His body slumped, then disappeared in an explosion of blue light. Down the road, Freddy received the soul of the last Springwood teen. He fed off the energy and roared with delight. Maggie and Tracy heard Freddy’s cry reverberate. “We have to go!” Maggie said, leading Tracy into the van. Maggie stepped on the pedal and peeled away. “Traveling time!” Freddy cried. He evaporated into a small burst of energy and flew through the van and into Maggie’s head. She faltered for a moment then regained control. Later that night, Maggie and Tracy arrived at the shelter. After parking in the lot, she and Tracy sat in silence. “What are we supposed to say when they start asking questions?” Tracy finally said. “You, Carlos and Spencer followed me,” Maggie replied. “Carlos, Spencer and John ran away. Anything else and they’ll lock us both up.”

Maggie and Tracy entered the shelter where they met Kelly in the admitting area. Maggie tried to explain what happened. “And then they ran away,” she said. Kelly stared blankly at her. “What are you talking about?” “Spencer, Carlos…the John Doe,” Maggie said, puzzled. “They were all here yesterday.” Kelly laughed. “You’ve been handling too many cases, Maggie. We’ve never had those kids here, and I would’ve remembered any new arrivals.” Maggie was stunned. “But you brought him to see me. You have to remember something.” “I do remember something,” Kelly said, “but it was only a dream.” Maggie’s eyes widened. “Dream?” “Yes,” Kelly said. “It was about kids, like the ones you described. Don’t remember their names though. Anyway, it was just a dream.”

The next day, Tracy talked with Doc in his office about what had happened yesterday. She was anxious and afraid despite her tough veneer. “And then we get back,” she said, “and no one remembers Carlos or John. It’s like they never existed. I’ve been hearing strange stories. Like some of the kids dreamed about Carlos, but don’t remember him.” “I remember hum,” Doc said. “Why?” Tracy asked. “I’m in control of my dreams. I can’t be fooled y this…thing you saw.” Maggie entered the office. “You mean Freddy.” Doc nodded. “What did he look like?” “Like them,” Tracy said, pointing to the dream demon painting. “Whatever he is,” Doc said, “he’s tampering with the line between dreams and reality. He didn’t just kill Carlos and the others. He erased them.” “What if we’re the ones who don’t exist?” Tracy said. “What if all this is just Freddy’s dream?” Doc just stared at her, unable to give an answer.

That night, Maggie sat in her office, looking over John’s article. She put her hand over it and began crying. It’s not a boy. It’s… Sorrow turned to rage as Maggie swept everything off her desk. She left the shelter and drove to her mother’s house. When her mother didn’t answer the door, Maggie used a spare key to open it. Maggie began ransacking the one-story house, furiously searching for something. She tore apart the kitchen, the closets. Then she finally moved into the bedroom. Opening the closet, Maggie found what she was looking for—a file folder. Maggie stared at it in disbelief. It was an adoption file. A photo of the little girl from her recurring dream was clipped to it. The paper stated that the little girl had been adopted by the Burnham family. “Maggie?” her mother called out from behind. Maggie looked up as her mother approached. “Don’t pay any attention to that,” her mother said fearfully. “I can explain.” Maggie was thunderstruck. “Why didn’t you tell me!” “There was no reason to. I’m your mother. You have me—I have lies!” Maggie shouted. “My whole life is a lie!” “Nothing’s a lie if you believe I love you.” Maggie sighed. “I want to know who they were.” “Maggie, it’s not important…” “I have to know!” she cried. Her mother began crying. “They don’t tell you. They have rules about no contact.” “Oh, there’s been contact. There’s been that dream for twenty years! You should have told me!” Lightning split the sky outside. Maggie started shuffling out. She felt lost. Her mother tried to put her arm around her, but Maggie shook it off. “You should have told me.” Maggie returned home, exhausted. Her head was whirling with mixed emotions, and she could no longer stay awake. When her head hit the pillow, she was asleep.

Maggie slipped into the recurring dream. She saw the gleaming water tower and the little girl playing tag with her father. Suddenly, the little girl heard her mother scream. She turned and saw her mother coming out of the cellar, her face lit with fear. “I won’t tell,” the woman said to her husband. She backed away from the cellar doors as her husband stepped around his daughter and started after her. “Fred, please!” she cried. “I swear I won’t tell!” Fred Krueger stared at his wife. “We need to talk, Loretta,” he said calmly. Then he glanced at his daughter. “Go inside, honey.” The little girl walked away from her parents and moved toward the cellar doors. She headed down the stairs to the basement, watching her parents’ shadows circle each other. “I won’t tell,” Loretta’s sobbing voice said. “I believe you,” Fred’s voice replied, “but they won’t. They won’t let me save you.” The little girl made her way toward the stairs that led up to the house, scared by the sounds and voices coming from the backyard. She was about to climb the stairs when the sound of a creaking door caught her attention. It was the door to her father’s workroom. The huge padlock on the door handle was open. The little girl grabbed the handle and pulled the door open. Then she stepped inside.

The little girl saw newspaper clippings on the walls of the town’s missing children. Then she saw a clawed glove on the workbench. The little girl frowned. Just then, a steady thudding snapped her head around and she headed for the doors to the backyard garden. Suddenly, the little girl transformed into Maggie. She was dressed in an adult-sized version of the little girl’s clothes. She even had red pigtails. But Maggie found herself in the boiler room, not the backyard. Freddy’s evil laughter caught her attention. “I love home movies,” he said. “Don’t you…Katherine?” Maggie flashed back as Freddy held up the drawing from the orphanage—the one signed K. KRUEGER. “You were such a little artist,” Freddy said. Maggie looked on in terror. “No, this can’t be. I know who I am!” “You’re my blood,” Freddy said. “Only you could’ve brought me out, in your mind.” “You can’t be my father!” she cried, refusing to believe. Freddy walked to the steel fire door of the boiler room and put his hand on the handle. “They took you away from me. But I made them pay. I took all their children. But that’s all over now.” He swung the door open. Maggie could see the open streets and the exterior of the shelter. “Time to start all over again,” Freddy said. “But this isn’t Springwood!” Freddy laughed horribly. “Every town has an Elm Street!” He stepped through the door and it clanged shut behind him. Maggie woke with a start and jumped out of bed. “Tracy!” she cried.

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