IMPORTANT NOTE: This story is based directly off of the new 2010 version of this movie (with Jackie Earle Haley as Freddy). I own nothing.

A slight twist to the end "dream" between Nancy and Freddy. I was trying to write it mostly from Freddy's perspective. I tried my best to stay in character; forgive me if I have strayed. I spent days (literally, DAYS) trying to decide on an appropriate ending, because I could have taken it in two different directions. A writer's most difficult decision is determining when a story has reached its end. I had nothing left to give, so I ended it as is. I may come up with another scenario for this pairing, but as of now, this story is done. (phew) Enjoy!

Little Nancy...all grown up.

The metal knives clicked on the door as Freddy beheld his favorite little traitor. Her dark hair was splayed across the pillow like a bloodstain. She used to be blonde. He couldn't decide which color he preferred. But her eyes, circled red from insomnia, were as brown as ever, and wide with fear. She squirmed helplessly in her white dress.

She was so beautiful when she was terrified. And she was all his.

He carved his macabre signature into the door with one swift motion. He began to circle the bed, making guttural noises of satisfaction in his throat.

"This dress..."he murmured, "...was always one of my favorites."

He rubbed his metal fingers together, as he always did when he was excited. His eyes moved slowly down her slim frame. Such a mature, adult body she had now; nothing like the soft, plump body of the child he had grown to favor. But the dress...the dress still fit her perfectly. He remembered the little girl who wore this dress every Friday, even when she knew that it was gardening day. He would teach her how to use the gardening fork, and look on with pride as she carved messy rivulets into the dirt. On the occasions where he would take her to their secret cave, the white dress would end up becoming splattered with paint. He always found the contrast between the white cloth and the red paint so enthralling. He could hardly wait to relive the memory. Only this time, it wouldn't be paint that would stain that pretty lace.

"Do you remember it now, Nancy?" He wagged one of his knives at her. She just lay still, staring up at him.

"Of course you do." He gently touched the top of her foot with the tip of the same knife. How easily he could pierce through her soft powdery skin. He could slice her into delicious little pieces if he had a mind to. And oh, he had a mind to, all right. But he had waited too long for this moment to just have it all be over in a matter of seconds. Little Nancy deserved better. She deserved better than a simple slash to the throat like Dean, or a quick thrashing like Kris. No…nothing but the best for little Nancy.

"You remember everything now. Your memories are what fuels me."

She wasn't even fighting her restraints anymore. How disappointing. He liked it when she put up a fight. It turned him on.

"No..." she whimpered. "Please, don't..."

He stood at the side of the bed. Her brown orbs were fixated on his twitching claws. Another growl of pleasure rumbled in his throat as he leaned over her.

"Your mouth says no..."

Silver fingers ran up her bare leg, stopping briefly at the hem line of her dress.

"...but your body says yes."

He pressed his claws in a little deeper as he moved down her leg, leaving thin red trails in her pale skin. Her body tensed, but no sound escaped her lips. His claws moved up again, lifting her skirt the slightest bit. Mmm, how he wished he could feel her once more under his fingertips. But he couldn't. He couldn't feel anything because of her. He could only fight to remember how she felt. The anger of her betrayal began to burn anew in his chest. And now she was closing her eyes and turning away. Did she really think that he was going to let it end like this? No. She wouldn't get an easy death like the others. Those pretty brown eyes would behold the product of her treachery. She would embrace the darkness with her eyes wide open. Wide. Fucking. Open.

"Don't you turn away," he snarled. "LOOK AT ME!"

Her eyes remained squeezed shut. A single tear ran down the side of her face and into her hair.

"Look at what you did to me!"

She opened her eyes, but she still wouldn't look at him. His lip curled in a furious snarl. Was it so hard to look at him? To see what she and her traitorous little friends had done? Releasing her, he hurled her across the room. She crashed heavily into her easel, knocking all of her art supplies to the floor. A rush of exhilaration flooded through him as she struggled to get to her feet. She was on her knees now, with her back to him. This was a sight that he knew very well. This was how she would always look when they played hide and seek. He would watch her as she practiced her numbers, sometimes mixing them up in her excitement to find him. The beauty of it all was the fact that he was never more than a few feet away from her, and yet she would always squeal with excitement when she turned around to find him hiding in plain sight. But what little Nancy failed to realize, even now, was that he had always been hiding in plain sight.

"Having fun yet?" He advanced on her, knives twitching.

Suddenly, she whirled around and plunged a pair of scissors into his eye. He staggered backwards, and then stared at her. She stared right back, her eyes gleaming with defiance and triumph rather than apprehension and horror.

This was more like it.

He chuckled at her sudden audacity. He had started to think that his little Nancy was defeated; that she had completely surrendered to him. But there was still some fire left in her, still a desire to add some fun to their game. Freddy was glad of it. While a submissive Nancy was pleasant enough, a rebellious Nancy was more pleasant still.

"Naughty girl," he scolded her, unable to hide his delight. The triumph in her face melted into despair as he casually yanked the scissors out of his eye and tossed them aside. Fresh tears filled her tired eyes as he stepped toward her.

"You can't hurt me," he sneered. His voice took on a lighter, more patronizing tone, as if he were explaining the difference between tulips and daisies to a rather dim-witted child. Her eyes darted towards the open door, which only amused him further. She wasn't going anywhere. He came closer still, keeping her rooted to the spot. She struggled to move.

"You're in my world."

He brought one of his knives up to her face.

"And you can't ever leave."

He traced her jaw line, and then moved down her throat. He could feel her heartbeat, throbbing wildly against his metal claws. Freddy had the sudden urge to rip into that smooth flesh, just so he wouldn't have to feel that redundant, infuriating pounding: the constant reminder of how alive she still was. He instead tore down the front of her body, shredding the fabric of her dress. A small cry escaped her as her body was exposed to him once again. Memories flashed before Freddy's eyes. How much her body had changed. Her baby fat had slimmed into the tight, creamy skin of a woman. Her collar bone jutted out beneath her throat. Four neat red lines ran down to her flat stomach, where her navel was but a modest indentation. And now, with the fabric shoved aside, he could see the slightest shadow of a breast.

Little Nancy...all grown up.

She surprised him yet again as she made a sudden dash for the door. Growling, he slammed the door shut and took control once more. She banged her palms helplessly against the wood. As much as he enjoyed her tenacity, he knew that he wouldn't be able to play much longer. Recess was almost over. He flipped her into the air and back onto the bed, restoring her previous restraints. Nancy screamed, long and loud.

At last.

He was above her in an instant, eager to hear more. He loved Nancy's scream more than any other sound. He had never heard anything like it. The other kids had screamed, of course, but none of them could scream the way his Nancy could. That beautiful noise...it filled him up.

"Mmm," he breathed into her ear, the sound of her scream still echoing in his head. "That's music to my ears."

He leaned forward, their chests brushing. He could feel her shudder as his tongue ran along the contours of her neck. He could taste her fear. Yummy. He inhaled deeply, taking in her scent. Coconut. She used to smell like strawberries. He remembered that they were her favorite fruit. Sometimes, when they were alone, he would bring in a small bowl of strawberries from the garden for them to snack on. She would smile at him in between bites, with seeds stuck in her teeth and red juice smeared across her mouth. Red always looked so good on little Nancy.

"I want to wake up!" she screamed, her voice fading into desperate sobs.

Mmm, that beautiful sound. It would be a shame to lose such a voice. Freddy thought it quite the tragedy that in just a few moments, he would never hear her scream again. Then again, that only meant that he would have to use every opportunity until then to make her scream. And he already had a few ideas in mind.

"You can't wake up," he told her. "I had to keep you awake long enough so that when you finally slept, you'd never wake up again."

Nancy began to sob quietly as his claws skimmed up and down her exposed torso, the dress ripping a little bit more with each motion. Her lips formed the same phrase over and over again in a fruitless prayer:

"Quentin, wake me up. Wake me up, Quentin..."

He paused his ministrations to laugh at her feeble plea. Apparently, the years she'd gained had not come with wisdom. She was still relying on that sorry excuse of a human being to save her? He'd left that worthless sack of skin on the floor of the boiler room in a lake of his own blood.

"You think your boyfriend can wake you up?" he asked, scornfully. He tore through the rest of her dress, leaving her completely revealed. Ah, it had been too long since he'd had her this way. In her white lace panties and bra, she looked just like a little angel. Or better yet, a blank canvas, and Freddy couldn't wait to fill her with color. The four lines he'd drawn earlier still oozed crimson, but he knew that little Nancy could do better than that. He moved so that he was directly on top of her, their faces almost touching. He grinned down at her.

"I'm your boyfriend now."