Chapter 56: Let the Professionals Handle This
The next second.
"Crack!"
Like a soap bubble popping, everything shattered.
The creepy little girl, the dead street, the suffocating atmosphere—everything vanished without a trace in an instant.
The afternoon sun was still warm, but no longer frozen in that painting-like stillness. A gentle breeze rustled through the trees, the distant buzz of a lawnmower hummed, and a few clear bird calls rang out. A paperboy on a bike whistled as he cruised around the corner, expertly tossing a rolled newspaper onto someone's porch.
Everything had returned to normal—so normal that the nightmare from moments before felt like a shared hallucination.
"What the..." Alan was stunned. She looked around at the suddenly vibrant, living scene with disbelief. "What just happened? Was that... an illusion?"
"Not exactly." Edward lowered his hand, his smile unchanged. "Call it an appetizer from the master of the house. A test, or maybe... a warning."
He scanned their surroundings, his gaze sweeping over the seemingly ordinary homes. In his perception, that special power—the mixture of dreams, fear, and rage—hadn't disappeared. It had just gone underground, like a rattlesnake coiled in the shadows, waiting for prey to show weakness.
"The rules here are fascinating," Edward's tone carried the excitement of discovering a new toy. "The line between reality and dreams is paper-thin. That guy's power can twist reality, or more accurately... drag people into the 'reality' he creates."
"So what do we do now?" Alan asked.
That incident had made her even more wary of this place. The nature of that power was unlike anything she'd encountered before.
"No rush." Edward started walking toward the commercial district. "Since we're here, might as well scope out the local scene. Besides, I'm starving."
Alan watched his casual stride and followed, feeling somewhat exasperated.
In a place where you could be dragged into a nightmare at any moment, he was thinking about food.
The two walked down Elm Street and soon found a typical small-town diner.
The place was called "Springwood Diner," with faded advertisements for burgers and milkshakes plastered across the windows.
Pushing through the door, bells chimed overhead.
The place was half-empty, with a few tables scattered with customers.
The air smelled of french fries and grilled beef—the scent of normal life, forming a sharp contrast with the eerie atmosphere from before.
Edward and Alan grabbed a booth by the window, sat down, and casually ordered two Cokes and a basket of fries.
While waiting for their food, conversation from the next table drifted over clearly.
Four teenagers—two guys, two girls, all high school age—were huddled at that booth.
One of them, a girl with long brown hair and an exhausted face, was speaking frantically.
"I'm telling you the truth! Why won't you believe me?!" The girl's voice was thick with tears and hysteria. "Rod didn't kill Tina! It was that thing! That monster that came out of my dream!"
This was Nancy Thompson.
Across from her sat her boyfriend Glen, trying to calm her down with a helpless expression.
"Nancy, relax. We know you're upset—Tina was your best friend. But... a monster from a dream? Come on, that's insane. The cops already said Rod did it. He was there with her, and he's got a record of violence."
"No! It wasn't him!" Nancy slammed the table, drawing stares from other customers. "Rod was attacked by that monster too! He told me he saw Tina getting ripped apart by an invisible force! He was terrified!"
"Then why'd he run?" Glen shot back. "If he was also a victim, why didn't he stay and call the cops?"
"Because he was scared! Because nobody would believe him! Just like nobody believes me now!" Nancy's tears spilled over, and she looked utterly helpless. "I dreamed about him last night too... this man wearing a red and green striped sweater, an old fedora, his face all burned up, and these steel claws on his hand! He was chasing me through a boiler room, trying to kill me! I tried to block him, and then I woke up—look!"
Nancy yanked up her sleeve. On her pale arm were three distinct scratches, like something sharp had clawed her. The wounds weren't deep, but they were real.
Glen and the other two friends stared at the marks, stunned.
"What the hell...?" Glen's voice came out dry.
"He did it! He can hurt us in our dreams! He killed Tina!" Nancy's voice cracked with terror. "He said he's coming for all of us. Rod's next, and then the rest of us..."
Edward took a sip of his Coke, the cold liquid sliding down his throat. His expression remained neutral, but he'd already made his decision.
Talk about perfect timing.
He'd been wondering how to actively draw out that "celebrity." He hadn't expected the bait to just walk right up and introduce itself.
Red and green striped sweater, fedora, burned face, steel claw gloves, kills in dreams... all the details pointed to the infamous dream demon himself—Freddy Krueger.
"Looks like we found our entrance," Alan's voice murmured in Edward's ear.
"Yep," Edward agreed. "Perfect bait, and a key straight to his front door."
Alan glanced at the girl at the next table who was on the verge of a complete breakdown. "Should we help her?"
"Absolutely," Edward's answer was immediate. "But not yet. If we just walk over and tell her we're supernatural badasses who can take down dream demons, she'll think we're psychos."
"Then we...?"
"We wait." Edward's gaze settled on Nancy's boyfriend, Glen. "We wait for Mr. Krueger to create the perfect opening for our dramatic entrance. When the fear peaks, when all hope is lost, the cavalry arriving at the last second seems a lot more... credible."
Edward set down his Coke, picked up a fry, dragged it through ketchup, and popped it in his mouth.
He felt like an audience member at a horror movie who'd not only bought popcorn and soda but could also jump into the screen anytime and give the cocky villain a major "spoiler."
The argument at the next table continued, but Glen and the others' attitudes had clearly shifted from outright disbelief to a mixture of doubt and creeping dread.
Nancy kept crying desperately, trying to convince her friends that the killer stalking their dreams was real.
She had no idea that in the booth right next to her, two beings far more dangerous than Freddy Krueger were sitting, watching with keen interest, viewing her as the... opening move in this hunting game.