A Nightmare Reborn Ch. 05

Michael sat down in the driver's seat and closed the door. The keys were in the ignition and the car started up effortlessly. He knew the other one, the one with the hockey mask wasn't far away. Michael knew he would have to kill him eventually. That much was clear. The strength of the hockey-masked killer was evenly matched to his own, and that was something new for Michael to think about. It hadn't happened before. No one had been able to fight him as this newcomer had done.

But he would die as all the others had. Michael didn't concern himself with how to do it. It was inevitable.

The radio crackled and hissed again, and Michael nearly brought his large fist down on it when a voice emerged from the static, "Repeat, this is Renaud. We are going to Elm Grove. Meet us at this address to regroup: 1978 Carpenter Street, do you copy?"

Michael turned off the radio and if he had been capable of smiling, he might have just then cracked a small expression of satisfaction beneath his ghostly mask. But Michael Myers knew nothing of happiness, let alone expressing it. He had no use for anything like it. It was an alien concept, foreign and intrusive against his nature. Those feelings had no place amongst the darkness and as such Michael knew nothing of them. They simple did not exist.

Instead, he put the police cruiser in gear and pulled out onto the street as the fire crews frantically worked to put out the fire he had started. Michael had no idea where to go, only an address given to him in a place called Elm Grove. He drove for five minutes and then saw a sign indicating that the town in question was getting closer, and it even gave some rudimentary directions.

But that was all Michael needed.

He needed to finish his business here and then go home.

***

Lori didn't know what to expect.

When the door opened, the woman standing there was both beautiful and haunted. Lori recognized her from the photo in the case file her father had kept hidden in the house on Elm Street. Long gone was the shine and luster of her strawberry blonde hair. Like the rest of her appearance, it had dulled and grayed a little. Premature lines had formed at the corners of her mouth and eyes. She wasn't old by any stretch of the word, but she did appear tired and worn out. Her clothes were simple and fairly utilitarian, a simple pair of jeans and a white t-shirt. She was thin and attractive, but also sad.

She looked at the four strangers on her front porch with large green eyes and asked, "Can I help you?"

"Alice?" Lori asked, "Alice Johnson?"

The woman looked at her for a moment, as though the name spoken had been barbed with fishhooks. She eyed them all for a few seconds and then replied, "Who wants to know?

"My name is Lori," she said, "This is Dr. Loomis and behind him is Sean and Tessa."

"Cops?"

"Yes ma'am," Sean said politely.

"You hear to arrest me?"

"No ma'am," Tessa smiled.

"You all look like someone beat the shit of you," the woman commented after a long once over.

"It's not that far from the truth," Tessa said dryly. Overhead thunder rolled loudly across the cloudy sky. The smell of burning wood and metal was thick in the air, even here in Elm Grove.

"Ms. Johnson," Loomis said, "Please, we need your help."

"Please," the woman opened her screen door after a long scrutinizing pause and then motioned a welcome into her home, "Call me Alice."

"Thank you Alice," Lori said.

Once her four guests were seated on the large comfy couch in her spartanly decorated living room, Alice sat in her recliner and looked at them expectantly. There was a long silence as no one in the room wanted to initiate the discussion about why they were here. Alice already knew. She had dreamed about them coming here. They had been strangers in the premonitory dreams, all of them faces she did not recognize. Except the blonde woman, Lori. Alice had felt like she knew Lori before, or at the very least had some ethereal connection with her.

Finally, Alice broke the silence, "Is he back?"

"Yes," Lori nodded, somehow not surprised that Alice knew the unspoken name of Freddy Krueger was the purpose of their visit.

Alice tried to smile a little, her eyes quietly mournful and sad, "It was only a matter of time, really."

"We need your help, Alice," Loomis said.

"And what makes you think I can help you?" she asked.

"Here we go again," Sean whispered to Tessa.

Loomis reached into his dark overcoat and pulled out the file folder that Richard Campbell had given him earlier. He walked it over and handed it to her gently, a strange little smile of apology and knowledge etched across his lips. He scratched his well-trimmed beard thoughtfully and then returned to his seat, deciding to say nothing.

Alice opened the file and looked through the contents. She saw a sterilized recording of her life, a report on the activities and wild ravings of an outcast. There were notes about her claims of having defeated Freddy Krueger when she became the Dream Master. She saw notes from the interview she had granted Dr. Neil Gordon so long ago. She had thought maybe Gordon believed her, and based on the cursory glance she gave the papers she had been right. It also seemed Dr. Gordon had been shunned for believing her as she had been shunned for being the Dream Master.

"I'm not who I used to be," she continued flipping through the file folder, reliving each moment and memory of her encounters with the dream killer. Like the chill of icy backwater against warm skin she recalled the horror of discovering Krueger had been hiding inside her. She had thought she defeated him, but in reality he had gone into hibernation in her dreams. She had been the unwitting vessel that sustained him and kept him from death. And then he had gone after her unborn son. He had gone after poor Jacob.

Jacob.

She shook her head and closed the folder, "He can't be killed if that's what you're here for."

"We only intend to stop him," Loomis said.

Alice graced them with a lovely smile that was both sympathetic and condemning, a ghost of her former self, "What's your name?"

"Mathew Loomis."

"Mathew," she said and sat the folder down on the floor, "You can't stop what can't be stopped. You can't kill what's already been killed. Do you understand that?"

"You were the Dream Master," Lori interrupted, "You faced Freddy and beat him. How did you do it?"

Alice looked at her and for a moment saw herself sitting on the couch as she had been before she ever knew of Freddy Krueger, of Dream Masters or anything truly evil in the world. She saw herself young and innocent, untouched by the evil of Krueger. Alice sighed, "I can't help you."

"Ms. Johnson?" Sean stood up and straightened out his stained and dusty uniform, "There are a lot of people dying out there right now."

"I'm sorry people are dying," Alice looked to the floor, "But I can't help you. You came here looking for the Dream Master, but I'm not her anymore. I haven't been for a long time. Who sent you here? Was it Neil Gordon? Dr. Campbell?"

"Dr. Campbell," Lori said, "My father."

Alice didn't seem all that surprised by this revelation either. In Springwood, it's always about family. It's always about whom you know and who gets tangled in the web with you. It's always about family. Always. She said, "You seem like you're really smart. Go now while you can."

"I'm afraid I can't," Lori met Alice's stare.

Alice regarded with mild amusement.

"I just heard all this shit from my father," Lori said as politely as she could, "I was hoping you could do better.

Alice looked at Lori and felt a strange sensation of déjà vu. In her dreams, she had seen her before. Sometimes she dreamed she was playing chess with Freddy Krueger, scared to death of losing the terminal game. The dream had plagued her for years, but more recently she had been seeing a blonde woman who looked remarkably like Lori in her place. Alice knew that Lori's being on her doorstep was not a coincidence. She knew this moment would come eventually, Alice just hadn't wanted to face it.

"You won't like what I have to tell you," Alice said evenly.

"This hasn't been a good day anyway," Sean spoke up.

"We'll chance it," Tessa added.

"Please," Loomis said, "We really don't have much time."

Alice shrugged and recounted her story. She told them about the Dream Warriors, she told them about becoming the Dream Master and she told them about her son, the Dream Child. She gave them every aspect in explicit detail, hoping to enlighten them about what it was they faced. The whole time, Lori would not look away from her. The others would occasionally glance away, but it was the young blonde girl that would not relent from her pursuit of the truth. Alice gave them the full disclosure, and when she finished all them were scared to death.

Only Lori did not show it. Alice thought that was interesting, as she knew Lori's fear ran the deepest of them all.

Alice asked the others to step outside while she and Lori talked.

***

"Cigarette, Doctor?" Sean offered Loomis a smoke from his rumpled pack of Camel Lights.

"Thank you," Loomis smiled appreciatively and took the cigarette.

"No sweat," Sean handed the doctor his lighter.

"So," Tessa asked from the chair at the far end of the porch, "You think this chick is the genuine article?"

"How do you mean?" Loomis lit up and inhaled, handing the small gold lighter back to Sean.

"This Dream Master stuff," she said, "I mean, it all sounds pretty for out there, right? You think she's for real?"

Loomis nodded, "Yes, I think so."

"After what I've seen here lately," Sean laughed half-heartedly as smoke jetted from his nostrils, "I'd believe elephants can fly."

"God this is all so fucking weird," Tessa rubbed her eyes and ran a hand through her dark hair, "I mean you've got a guy who kills people in their dreams, masked psychos and a woman called the Dream Master. This shit would make a great movie."

Loomis chuckled, "I suppose it would."

Sean rubbed his shoulder and grunted, his dark skin still a pale shade of what it normally was. He scratched his chin and then took another drag on his smoke. He looked to Loomis and asked, "Can I ask you something, doctor?"

"Of course," Loomis replied.

"What's your story?"

Loomis shrugged, "It's a rather long tale, officer..."

"Sean," he corrected him, "We've almost been killed together today on more than occasion. You can call me Sean."

"Okay then," Loomis smiled gratefully and took a deep breath, "My father was the psychiatrist who cared for Michael Myers after he killed his sister back in 1968. Judith Myers was only seventeen when Michael took a large kitchen knife and stabbed her to death. At first, my father believed Michael could be cured, but after awhile he realized that Michael was beyond help."

"No shit," Tessa leaned her head back against the wall, "Talk about sibling rivalry..."

"He even petitioned for Michael to be executed at one time, but the state of Illinois had rather archaic laws at the time regarding the death penalty," Loomis continued as the rain began to fall again, "My father knew Michael could never be reintroduced into society, so he devoted his career to keeping Michael locked away. But Michael escaped in 1978 and went after his other sister in Haddonfield. She escaped, but my father was badly burned in his capture of Michael. Michael claimed a dozen victims that night."

"Damn," Sean cocked an eyebrow.

"He escaped again during a prisoner transfer and succeeded in adding another twenty people to his long list of atrocities. My father tracked him and pursued him. It was his obsession really, to the point where my mother left him and took me along for the ride. In the end though," Loomis said, "Michael and my father had to reckon with each other and finally fought for the last time in a sanitarium not far outside Haddonfield. He stabbed my father repeatedly until he was dead and then left."

"Mathew," Tessa looked to him, her eyes wide, "I am so sorry."

"Oh," Loomis thanked her with a look as he took another drag on his smoke, "My father died doing what he felt he must do. He didn't give up."

"And so you've picked up his work?" Tessa limped over to the banister where Loomis was and stood beside him.

"I worked very hard profiling 'super-killers' like Fred Krueger and Jason Voorhees in the hopes understanding Michael Myers better," Loomis explained, "Mary, my ex-wife, was my partner in the research until she found other interests."

"So what are our chances then?" Sean asked bluntly, "You're the expert here doctor, and I have a bad feeling that the odds are not in our favor."

"And you'd be right," Loomis agreed hesitantly, "We have very little hope of success. But we can't give up either, Sean."

"Spoken like a true realistic optimist," Tessa said.

"Thank you, Tessa," the doctor smiled.

"Officer Alexander," she said sternly and glared at him.

"Oh," Loomis stammered, "I'm sorry-"

"Doc?" Tessa interrupted.

Loomis looked thoroughly embarrassed.

"I'm just fucking with you," she slapped his shoulder.

Loomis laughed.

It felt good to laugh.

***

"What do you know about dreams?" Alice asked Lori.

Lori shrugged, "Not a lot, really."

The two women sat on the floor in the dark living room, legs folded underneath them and no more than a few feet apart. Lori felt surprisingly at ease with Alice, despite the fact she didn't know her very well. Still, there was a strong connection between them. She could feel an unspoken bond of kindred experience and shared pain. Until now, Lori had believed her grief was insurmountable and beyond what anyone could really understand. But even being this close to Alice Johnson proved to her that she knew nothing of the true nature of pain.

"The Dream Master," Alice began, "Is a guardian. The world that lies between sleep and awake is powerful and filled with paradoxes and impossibilities, Lori. It's a place where the rules of this world no longer apply. Those who understand this have a great power there. Freddy Krueger is unbound the rules that govern our daily lives here and in the dream world for the most part. He can affect things in the real world as easily as he can in the dream world. In a world where such an evil man can exist, there has to be a balance. For every wolf, there must be a shepherd. Understand?"

"Yes," Lori nodded, "I'm becoming acquainted with that concept intimately."

"I was chosen to be the Dream Master," Alice explained, "I don't know why, Lori. I don't why it was me and not someone else. And it took me awhile to understand what had happened to me. All of my friends died before I realized the power I had been given. The Dream Master protects the dreams of the living, and when I fought him the first time I thought I had killed him."

Lori started feeling sleepy, her eyes growing heavy as she listened. The strange part was the further she began to fall into sleep, the clearer Alice's words became to her. Lori had the distinct feeling that she was beginning to dream as her eyes closed and yet remained open.

"I didn't succeed," Alice told her, "But I stopped him."

"I feel so sleepy," Lori managed, her hand to her forehead and eyes fluttering briefly.

"Don't be afraid," Alice comforted her and put a hand on her leg, "We're both going into a dream."

"Why would we dream?" Lori asked, feeling uneasy, "Freddy will find us."

"He might," Alice agreed, "But I can't really explain to you what is happening. You have to see it for yourself."

"But-"

"No," Alice put a finger to her lips and then Lori realized that they were no longer in Alice's house but in a church.

The chapel was ancient looking, the pews rotted and chipped and the walled stained with years of neglect. Cobwebs the size of picnic blankets were hanging from the ceiling in ghostly tangles. Dead weeds and plants were rooted in the cracks of the dirty floor. Lori could smell the dusty aroma of rotted leaves, browned and brittle from the passing of time and an even more powerful under current of wet soil. It reminded her of the time she had hidden from her father in the crawlspace under the house. It was dark and damp, cold with drafts and alive with things that feared the light. The dirt had been soft and wet giving an earthy smell she had never forgotten.

Elegantly colored stain glass windows gave the chapel a bizarre coloring of red, blue, green and orange light. Lori thought they were beautifully crafted windows, but also that they were ugly and foreboding at the same time. The once cherry-stained wood that made up the table and decorative choir boxing and pit was run down and covered with a thick layer of dust. Lori followed Alice up the center aisle of the chapel until they arrived where the preacher's pulpit might have been.

"This is where I fought him," Alice looked around and held her hands out as she stood in the colorful array of lights from the window, "This place, this chapel is a dream hub."

"A hub?" Lori asked.

"Like the house at 1428 Elm Street," Alice said and ran her finger over the dusty banister lining under the windows, "Like the boiler room at the old power plant... like Springwood is."

Lori looked down and saw a rumpled pile of clothing. She gasped, not because a dark brown fedora was upturned and gaping at her like an open maw and not because of the red and green striped sweater underneath it. She saw the glove, the simple workman's glove than any gardener or utilitarian might have worn to his work everyday. Except this glove was modified, adorned with metal and stained with blood. Lori felt another chill arc up her spine like electricity as the long, wicked bladed at the four finger tips glimmered in the dream light.

"Krueger?" she pointed down at the pile.

"That was how I left him after the fight," Alice nodded, "He looks pretty dead, doesn't he?"

"Yes," Lori agreed, "No body even."

"That's just it Lori," she said, "No body. You're thinking like I did. I saw him die here and then I assumed he was. But that's where I went wrong. He can't die, Lori. He's not even a man anymore. He's an idea, a universal fear. He's gone beyond the flesh and beyond the dreams now. I've been watching him for a long time as he's changed and evolved."

"I don't understand."

"Freddy Krueger is about to fulfill his destiny," Alice explained, "He is becoming a variation on a very evil idea."

"That doesn't sound very frightening, Alice."

"Think about it... how do you fight an idea?" she asked, "How do you suppress the spoken word of his name? Do you forget him? Can you outrun him? How can you fight what you can't see or touch or even prove exists?"

Lori felt he stomach sinking fast.

"Like Dr. Gordon told me once, Freddy Krueger is an airborne disease," Alice said, "All you have to do to catch him is say his name and he'll be in your dreams that very night."

"A variation on an idea," Lori repeated.

"Look," Alice pointed out to the pews, "And see the legacy."

The pews of the church were suddenly filled. A dozen or so people were seated in the various rows, their eyes looking to Lori. She knew instinctively that every last one of them was dead. She could feel the cold void of death around her like iced water in the middle of December. It felt as though a thousand dead hands caressed her skin suddenly. Lori shivered and felt her nipples go as hard as two chips of ice.

"In your dreams, you can see the dead," Alice said quietly, "They're the people in the background, the ones you never recognize but think you know. But for us Lori, for people like you and me, they're the ones we share our lives with."

"What?" Lori took another step back.

"Jason Voorhees, Freddy Krueger, Michael Myers..." Alice said quietly, "They're all variations on an idea. And for each of those variations, there were those who fought back."