Angel Discovered Ch. 02
*Chapter 2: The Rescue*
***
” Author’s Note: This is fantasy based on Johnny Depp’s character, Captain Jack Sparrow, Keira Knightley’s character, Elizabeth Swann, and Orlando Bloom’s character, Will Turner from the film *Pirates of the Caribbean.* It contains a tiny spoiler for the sequel, 2006’s *Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest.* Any discrepancies, I’m fully at fault for.
Also, there are references to Gabrielle-Angelique de Bourbon. About 90% of her character is fiction, the product of my own mind. Some of the information is true and can be found through a simple Internet search.
If you are a French history scholar or a *PoTC* fan with more knowledge than me, please excuse my artistic license. ”
***
I felt myself being lifted and my eyes sprung open. I looked up to see Jack carrying me towards his nest in the trees and instantly smiled. “Good mor…” was all I could manage to say before he covered my mouth with his.
He kissed me until we got into the trees. After he laid me down on the hammock, he moved his lips from mine but kept his face scant inches from mine. His eyes were stormy and alert. I knew somehing was wrong. In all the years I had imagined this moment, I had not anticipated this cold reception. I started to ask what was wrong, but again Jack cut me off with a low hiss.
“Angel… there’s someone else on the island. I heard men shouting on the beach. Get dressed while I go and see who’s down there,” Jack began, his voice barely audible. “And, Angel. Please stay here.”
I nodded and began to slip into the clothes puddled on the floor where they were dropped the night before. Jack slid an arm around me and pulled me close as soon as he had pulled on his own clothes. “Don’t worry. I’m sure it’s just some privateers docking to repair some damage. In which case, it might be wise for us to get a ride off of this island so I can locate my old crew,” he paused and looked at the floor, “And you might want to consider tavelling with them to find your fiance.”
My face colored and I looked away. Jack let me go and he slipped through the dense trees. Moments later I heard shouting from the direction of the beach we’d just slept on. It came first in French from several men, then in English in only one voice. I heard Jack identify himself as a lost crewman from a wrecked ship. I heard another reply in English and more French voices shouting, but no more from Jack. Soon, I grew worried as the shouts grew further away. I tightened the sash on my belt, then fastened my hair into a strip of leather I’d found on the floor. Confident that I wouldn’t be immediately recognized as a woman, I crept out of the trees towards the bright beach.
This was my first look at the sunlit Caribbean. The sand was so white, it looked like powdered sugar. The bark of the palm trees along the tree-line were sunwashed white, but the fronds where as green as a bottle of Charteuse. The water was as clear and as bright blue as the Blue Diamond of the Crown. It was against this backdrop that I saw twelve men wearing white breeches, white and green coats, and black gaiters. I knew them at once as members of the French Navy. One man wore no uniform, instead a gold and black coat and matching breeches. He carried a small tricorn, and his curly wig sat studiously atop his head. He was red-faced and obviously unused to such activity. I knew him at one to be my fiance, Bernard de La Valette, duc d’Epernon. He was shaking a fist up at Jack, who was being held by two of the uniformed men.
Even as I drew close to the scene, no one took notice of me. I heard Bernard shouting at him in heavily accented English. Jack did not look concerned, even as the smaller man’s finger shook closer to his face. Finally, Bernard jumped back and pulled a shortsword from his side. The tip flutered the open collar of Jack’s linen shirt and I gasped. A few of the uniformed men noticed me and one shouted for me to identify myself in French. I stood to my full height, glad that I’d thought to bring Jack’s cutlass and had strapped his havy pistol to my back. The fist gentleman’s shouts aroused the attentions of the rest and soon Bernard was marching toward me with Jack being pushed along as well. The look on Jack’s face was stormy and I knew it was meant for me.
I raised the sword in both hands. It felt unweidly, but I did not quaver. “Set this man free!” I shouted in my own accented English.
Bernard laughed. “Oh, pirate, I see you have a mere boy doing your rescuing.”
I held the sword in one hand and unfastened my hair with the other. Once it was flowing freely and I saw that I had Bernard’s attention, I said once more, “Set him free!”
He laughed harder, his pink face quickly turning scarlet, “A pirate’s whore is no better to me.”
“Set him free by command of the Mademoiselle de Verneuil!”
This sobered Bernard and made Jack look even more perplexed. “Gabrielle? Is it really you?” Bernard asked, dumbfounded. Before I could speak, he answered his own question, “Oh, darling, my bright morning, how could I have not known you? Of course you are she!” He exectuted a courtly bow that only made me appreciate Jack’s earlier mockery even more.
“Set him free then. This man is my rescuer. You should thank him,” I continued. I lowered the cutlass and silently pleaded with Jack to forgive me.
“Yes. Set him free then,” Bernard commanded, striding towards me. He removed his coat at wrapped it around me. I knew that the sight of my bare ankles and feet, not to mention the outline of my legs, had offended his sense of propriety. He took my by the arm, a little more roughly than a man usually does by a lady, and half pulled, half walked me to one of the dinghys waiting on the shore. Ahead I saw a small ship floating, it’s white sails furled. My spirits flagged as I looked back at Jack. He nodded curtly at me and turned back to his nest among the trees as I was being bundled onto the boat. I didn’t hear a word of what went on around me and feared I’d never be the same again.
***
“What are you telling me, Gabrielle? That you whored yourself to that filthy pirate but will not do the same for me?” Bernard’s rage filled the grand cabin. Jack’s island was long lost through the large windows at the stern. I looked through them now and did not speak a word.
Since I had been taken from the island, a dress and the appropriate underthings had been found for me in Bernard’s own luggage. He’d said he’d bought them for me before departing from France so that I’d have a present waiting. I’d bathed in a large copper tub in lukewarm water and groomed my hair into submission. I’d tied the stays of my corset myself since I had no maids, so they weren’t tight. However, the whalebone ridges bit my flesh all the more for having not worn one for nearly a week. The dress was exquisite. The skirt was three tiered white and gold cotton and lace. The mantua was of blue silk. A red silk and lace wrapper served to cover my sun browned arms. Though I would have loved it five days ago, my newfound freedom from heavy garments and layers of lingerie made it feel like a prison.
“Gabrielle!” Bernard snapped at me. When I did not answer, he grasped my right wrist tightly. I cried out more from shock than any pain. He’d never touched me without invitation before. “You are being most impertinent,” he said calmly. The look in his eyes was a dead one. I feared it more than I feared the loud rage.
He turned me towards the windows and grasped me about my narrow waist. He bent me over a desk so my legs were pinned from kicking. “Is that what you want, Gabrielle? To be a pirates wench? Do you prefer the course ministrations of a murderer to your own fiance?”
I said no more. I would not cry out. My humiliation was complete without the whole crew having to witness my rape. Bernard held fast with one arm and slid another into the bodice of the gown. I felt his round sausage like fingers scrape one nipple under my corset and chemise. I silently cursed myself for not having made it tighter. I shuddered with revulsion.
He mistook my shiver for pleasure because he whispered into my ear, “So this is what you like? To be taken by force. Well, force you shall have.”
He backed away from me for which I was grateful, but still held me with one arm. I knew he was unbuttoning his breeches because I heard a labored breath and a rustle of fabric. I would not cry out lest this excited him even more. Despite my resolve, I felt tears slipping over my lower lids and down my cheeks. I spotted Jack’s pistol on a table across the room just as a shadow slid over the stern windows. I looked up to see Jack looking though the glass. I smiled for the first time since I woke that morning and he pressed his finger to his lips. He climbed higher and disappeared.
I discerned from Bernard’s grunt of satisfaction that he’d freed himself from his breeches. When he let me go to lift my skirts, I turned.
“No, Bernard. I don’t want it like this. I want to see your face.” He stood slackjawed at my apparent change of heart, so I steered him to my former place, with his back facing the windows. I would not look below his belt because I knew whatever I saw there would make me vomit, so I moved in for a kiss. Before I actually had to put my lips on his, Jack crashed boots-first through the grand windows. Shards of glass and wood from the panes flew in all directions and Bernard turned to see my pirate standing calmly in his sleeping quarters.
“Hasn’t your gentlemanly breeding taught you the impropriety of seeing an unmarried lady alone?” Jack asked, calmly brushing debris from his sleeves.
Bernard recovered quickly and grabbed my arms and pulled me roughly against him. At once I was grateful for the protective layers of skirt around my legs and waist. “Oh, pirate, you’ve come for your slut? Too bad, I’ve bought and paid for her already.”
“No amount of money or power can overcome a limp standard. Or, an unwilling mistress, for that matter.” Jack scoffed, his lazy speech effectively cold and indifferent at the same time.
Bernard pulled me toward the door and opened it to yell in French to a cabin boy to bring the master-at-arms. “We have my fiancee’s rapist in custody… and I’m sure he’s guilty of any number of other offences.”
Jack snorted laughter and leveled a look at Bernard over my shoulder. “I find it entertaining that you call me a rapist when you’re the man with his third leg hanging out of his breeches and holding a lady captive, savvy?”
I looked at Jack and smiled at his comprehension of the French while Bernard growled an unintelligable retort past my ear before Jack proceeded, “And, I must remark, for a man so sure of his sexual prowess, you certainly fear that you fiancee would rather go with a pirate than a man of wealth, such as yourself.”
Bernard sputtered and his hold my arms slackened. “Of course Gabrielle will choose me,” he replied.
Jack held my gaze and simply grinned.
Bernard let my arms go enough to button his breeches as the master-at-arms appeared in the doorway. I took that moment to turn to face him. I let my hands slide down his side until I held both his attention and his shortsword in my hand.
“Gabrielle… you choose me?” he asked, his voice so incredulous, I had to force down a laugh. I pulled the sword from it’s scabbard and aimed it directly at his now-concealed manhood. “No,” I replied.
I backed into Jack and Jack leaned forward to reclaim his pistol. “I choose the pirate,” I finished.
With our weapons trained on Bernard and the master-at-arms, Jack helped me out of the broken window to the ledge. He climbed over and joined me. He gathered me against him and grasped the rope. “Please, gentlemen, remember this as the day you almost caught Captain Jack Sparrow!”
With that we slid down into a waiting dinghy and we set immediately for a ship heading right for us. Above us, there were shouts in French not to shoot at us. Jack pulled hard on the oars while fastening his gaze on me. “Mercy from the French? Unheard of.”
“I assume he doesn’t want to be directly responsible for my death,” I murmured, grateful for the too-easy escape.
I nodded, “And the ship? She’s certaintly not ” The Black Pearl “.” The ship in question was smalled than ” The Diligence “, Bernard’s ship, but she looked new. I could see from the dinghy that her sails had never been patched and her oaken sides shone against the brilliant blue sky and ocean.
“No, she’s not,” Jack answered, looking back at the vessel, “She’s ” The Agility “, the fastest ship I’d ever sailed, aside from ” The Pearl “.”
“Where did she come from?” I asked, then thought twice, “Or shouldn’t I ask?”
“I’m not sure myself, luv. It was pure providence that I came upon her. It seems my own crew procured her after I, er… after they abandoned ” The Pearl ” to that monster,” he grimaced as we came about to the ship. “Just be prepared. Some of my crew are elated at my reemergence… and some are not.”
With that, a shaggy head appeard over the starboard side, “Cap’n Jack! We was afeared you might not return!” The man reached down to me as Jack handed me up. Once I was standing on the main deck, I was dazzled by the luxury I saw about me. Even through the salt and brine coating on some of the woodwork, the deck and bulwarks shone with fine carving. Though I am no expert, I knew that noone had given ” The Agility ” up without a fight.
Despite the richness of the surroundings, the crew was as varied a bunch as the spare possessions in Jack’s nest on the island. They formed a line behind the bearded man and watched me warily. I’m pretty sure the bearded man crossed himself and murmured something about “Damnable women,” but I couldn’t be sure. At the end of the line stood two young men. One was tall… as tall as Jack, but much leaner. The other was a head shorter and very slight. They were both extrordinarily fine of feature. The one nearest me bowed his head to look at the floorboards.
Jack swung up onto the the deck behind me and made a quick introduction. The shaggy man was Jack’s first mate, Gibbs. A taller man with a parrot on his shoulder was Cotton (I was later told that his parrot spoke on his behalf and answered to Cotton as well… and indeed the parrot had chirped “Lady bird” at me when I nodded to them). A very short man with a bald head was named Marty. Two shabby looking fellows (one had a wildly rolling left eye!) were introduced as Ragetti and Pintel. There were a few other men in the line, but Jack either didn’t know them or didn’t feel the need to introduce them.
Jack gesture to the young men nearest me, “And these two are not really a part of the crew but, er… sort of friends,” at a glare from the taller boy, Jack ammended his statements, “More acquaintances, really. The angry looking chap is Will Turner and beside him is his fiancee, Miss Elizabeth Swann.”
The one introduced as Miss Swann looked up, her face a mask of barely controlled rage. I saw a tense muscle work in her cheek as she glared at Jack first, then at me. I was surprised to see that she was a woman, but shocked at her beauty. I had missed it based solely on her clothing. I held back a smile over the scene from this morning, and simply dipped my head to her as I had at the rest.
“And, this is Angelique. She’ll be aboard with us for the duration,” Jack began before levelling an even gaze at Miss Swann, “Miss Swann, would you please assist Angel to my cabin?”
Before she could speak the anger I saw flash across her eyes, I held up my hand to Jack, “Please, Jack, I’d just like to remove this dreadful contraption,” I gestured to my dress, “and lay down for a few moments. I’m perfectly capable of doing both on my own.”
A slow grin split his face, “Well, in that case, Angel, let me show you to your quarters.” He took my arm before I could protest and propelled me towards the stern. I knew my face had darkened to several shades of crimson at his bold display, but I said nothing. I was glad to be alone with him for a while longer. “Gibbs, please, we should probably make a heading for St. Thomas,” Jack threw over his shoulder.
“Aye, aye, Captain. You ‘eard ‘im lads! To yer tasks!” Gibbs shouted and a bustle of activity burst from the somber group as though the past few minutes had never happened. I turned back to see Elizabeth lay her hand on Will’s sleeve, only to see him shake it off and ascend the stairs to the forecastle.
Jack led me into a large room, much like the one he’d just rescued me from. This one, however, looked untouched. The linens were undisturbed and there were no clothes scattered about. “Didn’t Gibbs sleep here during the voyage?”
“Oh no. Gibbs is as hardened as any hearty. He prefers the gun deck and a hammock. This kind of luxury wouldn’t suit him,” Jack tossed back a ruby red woolen blanket and goldenrod colored sheets, “But it suits me just fine.” He patted the mattress and looked expectantly at me.
I looked down at my dress, now sodden and in disarray, “Do you have a knife?”
Jack looked at me so perplexed that I laughed outright. “Don’t even think that. I’m hardly going to do myself harm,” I sat next to him, “after all, I just found life’s most exquisite pleasure. Why would I throw it away?” I stroked the length of his thigh and he closed his mouth on the response I knew I’d invoked. “I just want to modify this dress to make it a little more seaworthy. Right now, all it’s good for is patching sails.”
Jack run his hand over my bodice and lap, “I’ll be the judge of that, my lovely.” He moved back onto the bed and unpinned my hair. My locks cascaded over my shoulders in a single blonde wave. “Silky,” he breathed as he an his fingers through my tresses. He began to undo the row of tiny bottons holding my dress together. He accomplished the task in so little time, I laughed.
“My dear Jack, I must say, you possess an alarming alacrity for divesting a lady of her dress.”
“It’s not how it looks, darling. My mother was an opera singer when I was a boy and I used to help her and the other girls with quick changes between scenes.”
“I’ll just bet you did.”
“Honest, luv. And, when I got old enough to start to pay attention to the bare backs I uncovered, they blindfolded me,” he paused when I laughed, “I’m a handy person to have around in a tight spot, you know.”
I finished laughing and looked back at him. I drew my arms from the fabric and he started to undo the stays of my corset, “I’m beginning to notice,” I replied, “This marks the second time in four days you’ve saved my life.”
“No thanks necessary, mademoiselle,” the French word rolled off of his tongue like second nature. A chill run up my spine at hearing my native tongue on his lips, “I’m beginning to like you,” he finished, cavalierly.
“And I you,” I murmured as he slid my light lace petticoat over my thighs, calves and ankles. He rolled down my silk stockings an inch at a time, kissing each newly exposed area of flesh. I luxuriated in his attention, shamelessly tossing my head back and sighing aloud.
“The lady likes, I see,” Jack quipped. All that remained was my loose chemise. He slid his hands under the fine cotton and over my head. Jack fairly growled when he saw my naked breasts, but not out of appreciation. The nipple that Bernard had earlier assaulted was roughed to an angry red and beginning to bruise. A purplish stain already marred my arm where he’d grabbed me earlier. Jack bent his head to kiss my breast and I moaned my gratitude. “When I get through with your former fiance, he will have to crawl away from me with the most precious part of his anatomy as his bit and bridle.”
I said nothing and Jack looked me in the eyes, “You do not regret your decision, do you?” he asked.
I let go my breath in a shocked gasp, “No, Jack! Never! It’s just…” I trailed off and looked at my hands.
Freddy snorted.
“I want Alice back,” she stated clearly.
Freddy looked at her.
“I want my father and my mother…”
The dream killer hissed at her mockingly.
“But most of all,” she stared through his lies and his hate and his malevolence, her hair blowing in the arid wind and sweating beading on her forehead, “I want my husband back, you sorry son of bitch.”
“I’m your husband now, Lori,” he flickered his tongue wildly at her in mock cunnilingus. Freddy laughed wildly and waved his hand like a theatrical magician at a kids show. From his hand came a thick, billowing dark smoke that gave birth to Freddy’s latest nightmare. The air was suddenly filled with flapping, leathery black wings and clawed feet. Thousands of huge, mutant demon bats flew out of the shadows of Freddy’s overcoat and slobbered towards Lori. They squealed and mewled, hungrily advancing towards her for the kill. Their little red eyes glowed like beads of blood as they strafed her, descending in to swallow her whole.
Lori watched them approach as time slowed down and the reality of the dream began to fade. She remembered seeing the dead in her dreams, and the boy with no eyes who told her about peace. She remembered the burnt woman who begged her to resist the anger and hate. The bats were closing in on her and amazingly enough, she reached down deep inside her soul and found calm.
It was eerie, the peace that over took her body and mind as she raised her hand up and the blades retracted back into her fingertips. The wounds healed immediately and the blood melted from her flesh as though it had never been spilled. She could feel a cool presence in the back of her mind as the world stopped for her. She drew a deep breath that filled her lungs not with poisonous sulfur of Freddy’s illusions but of the real world.
In that eternal moment she saw the past and the future, she saw the tragedy of Nancy Thompson unfold before her eyes and the death of Donald Thompson. She saw the Dream Warriors fight and triumph over Freddy only to fall again to his resurrected evil. She saw the choices and burdens of the Dream Master as Alice Johnson fought to save those she loved. She saw the fights that followed, the fight at Crystal Lake again and everything leading her and the people around her to this place in time and space.
In that brief expanse, she understood everything Alice couldn’t explain to her. Lori opened her eyes and saw Freddy’s hellish corneas fixed on her. She saw the bats screaming towards her as she reached out, opened her fingers and stretched out with her mind. She looked at the hellish creatures and simply said, “Enough.”
The bats froze in the air, their wings and mouths caught in full motion as though someone had paused a movie. They hovered before her and she could hear Freddy’s gasp of surprise. She could feel his anger and impotent rage as his best trick, the one that always granted him the kill failed. Fear was the medium in which the disease was passed. If there was no fear, Krueger could not spread. Lori smiled through the wall of bats, “I’m not afraid of you anymore.”
Freddy staggered back towards the open door of the boiler oven, his eyes wide.
“Our screams gave you your power…”
“No.”
“Our fear gave you your strength…”
“Shut up!” Freddy raged.
“You’re a nightmare, Krueger…”
“YOU FUCKING BITCH!”
“…And all nightmares have to end.”
Lori drew her right hand back, palm open and fingers spread wide. She looked at the bats.
“YOU STUPID BITCH!”
Lori shoved forward with her right hand and the bats flew backwards as though caught in a gale force wind. As they recoiled from her power, their hideous black fur melting and falling away under the power of Lori’s counter attack. The black monstrosities flamed as black, stiff fur molted into white feathers. Their screeching turned into chirps and squawks as a flight of large, white doves erupted from the dying carcasses of the bats. Their leathery skin fell away and birthed broad snow-white wings. Pink eyes fixed on Freddy and the flock dived in towards him like a flight of fighter planes.
“Auucgh!” he screamed as the birds swarmed him and drove him backwards. Their wings flapped and stirred up winds that blew through the entire world of the dream. They pecked and stabbed at him with their beaks. Black blood spilled out onto white feathers as the birds ravaged Krueger. His skin was pulled away in large chunks as they fed on him, consuming his evil. He swiped his blades in the air ravenously, killing a few of them but not enough to make a difference.
Lori stepped forward and sprinted towards Freddy and the birds. The doves scattered as Lori tackled Freddy and drove him into the fire. The boiler door slammed shut behind them and they were in flames. Lori felt her flesh beginning to burn as she looked into the inferno and then forced herself out of the dream. She could feel the cool air of the power plant office around her as she grabbed Freddy by the neck and pulled him close to her.
“Scream for me, asshole,” she whispered.
There was an explosion of light and then they were gone.
***
Loomis and Tessa stood up and turned to see Michael Myers waiting for them, he reached over and grasped the machete Jason had dropped when Sean shot him. It was still dripping blood as he looked at it, appraising it as a weapon. Michael then looked to them and down at the bullet holes in his chest. He was pissed off and Loomis had no doubt he was going to express it to the fullest extent.
“Tessa,” Loomis said from the corner of his mouth.
“Yeah?”
“Run.”
And then the office windows from behind them at the end of the housing structure blew out in a thunderous explosion of air. It was like a sonic boom had occurred in the office as glass and wood rocketed through the air. All three of them on the ground looked up to see two bodies sailing through the air. Loomis immediately recognized Lori’s blonde hair as she struck one of the overhead pipes and fell to the ground near the forth basin. He and Tessa rushed over to her and found her unconscious.
The second body landed at the feet of Michael Myers. Freddy looked up, his hat and coat smoldering as he tried to grasp where he was. He looked at the muddy boots and then up the blood stained coveralls and finally at the ghostly white face. Freddy rolled his eyes and hopped up to face Michael.
“Cute, Lori,” he coughed and brushed himself off, “I should have fucking seen this coming.”
Michael looked at him, his head cocked to one side.
“And what are you looking at, Shatner?” Freddy eyed him, “You know its Jason you should be mad at. He stole your idea for wearing a mask!”
Michael raised the machete into the air.
“Well fuck you too, Myers,” Freddy growled and swiped at Michael. He tore Michael’s coveralls and opened up some nasty wounds across his chest, but Michael did not relent. He hammered the machete down and caught Freddy in the shoulder, taking him by surprise. Krueger howled and then began punching Michael in the stomach hard with his free hand. Freddy jerked back and wrenched the machete from Michael’s hand with his own body.
“You know what your problem is?” Freddy yanked the machete free from his torso, “Halloween only comes once a year. Your gimmick isn’t practical for longevity…”
Freddy sliced down and caught Michael on his right thigh, “It’s a fucking overrated holiday anyway…”
As Freddy and Michael fought, Loomis cradled Lori in his arms and shook her gently, “Lori?”
She didn’t move. Tessa felt her neck and found a pulse there, steady but weak.
“Lori wake up,” Loomis hissed and slapped her.
Her eyes fluttered open and then went wide as she scrambled back out of his arms and onto her ass. She looked around and then saw Freddy and Michael. Michael was slamming Krueger up against the wall repeatedly, battering him like a rag doll. Freddy dropped the machete and it fell into the basin where Jason and Sean had disappeared. Michael’s leg was bleeding badly as he beat the living shit out of Freddy. After a few minutes of this, he slammed the dream killer down to the ground hard, causing Freddy’s trademark fedora to go rolling away into the shadows.
“Michael’s winning,” Tessa whispered as the huddled back into the corner of the housing. She looked at Loomis and asked, “Do you think he might be able to kill Freddy?”
“No,” Lori spoke up, her head throbbing from her sudden exodus into the real world, “No…”
“You fucking dime store reject!” Freddy roared and jammed his blades into Michael’s neck. The killer staggered back, holding his neck and losing his balance. Blood squirted out from between his fingers in steady pulses as Michael tried to recover. Freddy stood up and dusted himself off casually, his yellow eyes resting on Michael’s mask. He started walking towards the Halloween killer, the terror of Haddonfield, and brought his claws to bear.
“You and Voorhees,” Freddy huffed, “What a fucking pair…”
Michael fell back against the wall, his hands still clasped to his neck.
“I brought you here to fight him, you asshole. Not me!” Freddy kicked Michael across the face, his dusty boot leaving a black mark across the white mask. He knelt down and grabbed Michael by a handful of his wild hair, shoving his head back against the eroded concrete wall. Freddy growled, “You’re pissing me off, Myers.”
Freddy raised his hand into the air and the blades clinked together, scraping in a taunt that heralded Freddy’s victory.
“You lose,” Freddy spat at him and then brought his glove down. Only it never connected with Michael’s mask or flesh. The hand stayed in the air, trembling against the power of Jason’s grip. Jason jerked Freddy to the side and whipped him around, his vice-like grip unforgiving. There was a wet popping sound as the bones in Freddy’s right arm came out of their sockets and then were jammed back in. Krueger’s head was lolling about as Jason spun him into the wall. The concrete cracked and splintered, heavy chunks of the old compound falling to the floor.
“Freddy’s dead,” Tessa cringed as they watched Jason spin and flip Freddy around. The dream killer bent six-foot diameter pipes in with his backside and broke concrete with his head as Jason unleashed his fury. All of the teasing and taunting Jason had endured, the pain and the humiliation suffered at the hands of Freddy was being brought to light now. Their fight on the dock two years ago had only been a prelude to this moment. Jason had found time to think about what had happened to him, he had had time to consider the blasphemy of Freddy’s desecration of his mother. After a brief moment of consideration (as thoughtful as Jason Voorhees could be about it at the very least) Jason followed through on the impulse to kill Freddy.
Loomis eyed his shotgun, only a few feet away from where Michael Myers lay, his legs sprawled and head hanging forward. He wondered for a moment if Freddy had actually killed him. There was so much blood drenching his coveralls and the cuts on his body had been truly grievous. Loomis wanted to believe that Myers might be dead, but he knew better. Michael was too smart. There was the possibility that Michael, in his quiet contemplation and secret agenda, might even be smarter than Freddy Krueger.
“We have to get them into that basin,” Loomis bit his bottom lip, “And we have to make sure Jason doesn’t have his machete…”
“Why?” Lori asked.
“He used it to climb out,” Loomis pointed at the opening of the basin. There, lodged in the rusty metal was Jason’s weapon of choice. He had stabbed it into the side of the basin and used it to escape by pulling himself up on it and then standing on it. It looked to be an arm’s length from the lip of the basin, within reach if someone was brave enough to go and grab it.
“I’ll get it,” Tessa said quietly.
“Its lodged in there pretty good,” Loomis eyed the weapon.
“I’ll handle it,” she said and squeezed his shoulder, “Just blow their fucking heads off.”
Loomis nodded, “All right. Let’s do this. Lori, stay put for a moment.”
As Loomis broke to the left and Tessa went right, Michael sudden stood up. He looked at the doctor with bloody red eyes as they shared an exchange of “got ya!” Loomis cursed himself and skidded to a halt a few feet shy of the shotgun. Michael had been waiting for him to come out. He had been playing possum to avoid Freddy and Jason, his black heart intent on the doctor. Loomis felt sweat beading on his back and winding down his spine as he and Myers locked eyes.
Jason continued his beating of Freddy. He spun the weakened killer around again by the arm and let go. That was when Krueger crashed into Michael and sent them both toppling over. Jason stalked over to them like some kind of post-modern Prometheus and grabbed them by their necks, one in each hand, hoisting them up. Michael twisted in his grip and freed himself, his black eyes flaring above the bloody marks dripping from his sockets. Freddy slashed out with right hand but found it caught by Michael. Jason pulled on his left hard as Michael refused to let go.
“Oh Jesus,” Tessa looked over her shoulder as the two monsters pulled Freddy apart. She thought maybe there was a mutual understanding between them at that moment, a sort of unspoken agreement in regards to their shared hate of Krueger. Or maybe it was just that they were caught in a bloodlust and Freddy was in their way. In either case, Freddy was holding the short end of the stick.
Krueger howled and threw his head back as the muscles and bones began to fail his body. There was a definitive tearing sound as the flesh began to rip and sinews of the meat split apart. Black blood splashed to the dusty floor as Freddy became the wishbone between Jason and Michael Myers. His eyes bulged from his sockets as the connective tissues and bones in his arms pulled away from his torso.
The power plant was filled with his agony as he fell forward and smashed face first into the floor. Jason tossed the severed arm aside as it sprayed the foul smelling essence of Freddy Krueger all over his tattered clothes. The screams echoed throughout and acted as death knell for the dream killer. Jason kicked Freddy hard and cracked his ribs on the left side as Michael drove his hand down into Krueger’s back. He punched through the fabric of his burnt clothes and through the slimy flesh to the spinal cord beneath. Michael gave the slippery backbone a mighty yank and Freddy’s Krueger’s back was broken in two.
“Oh God,” Lori covered her mouth and closed her eyes as her stomach lurched.
There was a loud squealing shriek of metal against metal as the machete came loose from the basin. Tessa flipped over and held the weapon up, but her triumph was short lived as Jason and Michael both regarded her with an intense glare. She laid there for only a second before they both began moving in on her.
“Oh hell no,” she grunted and got up as best she could, her wounded shoulder throbbing and sending bolts of pain through her right side.
Loomis aimed the shotgun at Jason, even as Michael approached him. He knew if he didn’t disable Jason, then Tessa wouldn’t stand a chance. He aimed and fired. The shot went wide and blew apart a pressure valve. Steam hissed and billowed outward, the hot air whistling as it enveloped Jason’s hulking frame. Loomis turned and fired at Michael. The blast caught Myers in the left shoulder and sent him flying backwards.
Tessa realized too late that she had backed herself into a corner as she bumped up against the wall of the generator housing. She looked and saw Jason emerging from the steam, his shadow hiding her from the light. She glanced to her left and saw the open basin where Sean had been pulled in. Tessa took a deep breath and tightened her grip on the machete as Jason bore down on her.
“I fucking hate hockey,” she growled and then charged forward, the machete held out in front of her. Instead of going for Jason’s stomach or chest, she brought the huge blade up and with all her might drove it into his left eye. She let loose a cry of primal rage and fury as she drove the machete deep into Jason’s ocular cavity. The tip of the machete exploded out the back of his skull as he lost his equilibrium. The hockey mask split at the damaged eyehole and revealed his deformed face to her as she smashed into him, her momentum carrying them backwards.
“Just die!” she screamed and toppled over into the basin with him. Before his fist smashed into her face and shattered her skull, Tessa was able to pull the machete out and throw it back up and out of the pit. As everything went dark, despite the pain, she felt strangely at peace. A flash of blinding light and a spray of blood saw Tessa leave this world for the next.
***
Loomis heard Tessa shouting and turned but could only see roiling steam, but no sign of her or Jason. He looked down at Michael, who was not moving again. Loomis walked up to him slowly, the only sound being that of the hissing steam from the broken valve. His eyes stung with sweat and blood as he leveled the gun at Michael’s face. His clothes were stained with blood and dirt, his legs shaking. His heart was pounding so hard he thought it might bust his ribs loose as he held the shotgun with hands that trembled.
“Michael?” he whispered and kicked the killer’s boot.
Nothing.
“I don’t believe you’re dead, Michael,” Loomis said.
The masked killer did not move.
Loomis steadied himself and took a final aim.
Here, tonight and finally forever he would put an end to Michael Myers. Maybe he couldn’t kill him permanently, but a shotgun blast to the head would insure that Michael wouldn’t be out and about any time soon. The curse of the Thorn would end here for as long as it could. He didn’t fool himself into believing his act was anything other than a temporary solution. Loomis simply took comfort in the fact that he would avenge his father’s death and finally give the elder Loomis peace. He would give the world a reprieve from the Thorn.
“Damn you,” he said, his voice weak and broken. He pulled the trigger and was shocked to hear only any empty click. The shotgun was empty.
“No!” he shook his head and reached into his pocket for another shell. He fumbled with one for a moment and then quickly reloaded the gun. He finished and snapped the gun back up to find Michael gone. There was trail of blood leading into the shadows of the pipe works and corridors. He sighed and lowered his gun.
“Damn you.”
He turned to find that Lori was gone from her hiding place. He looked to his left and saw Krueger’s body was gone as well.
“Lori?”
***
The journey from the generator housing to the outside was symbolic for Lori. To her, she had been walking through the shadows and darkness for years now. Ever since Freddy Krueger had set her life on this course she had not known any peace. Everywhere she looked, there was danger and death. Her life had been ruled by fear of him, and it had taken her so much to realize it. The journey to freedom had come at a terrible cost.
She dragged the still living corpse of Freddy Krueger through the old halls and walkways of the power plant. She could hear the souls trapped here. She could feel them as she had felt the others in her dream. Lori thought of Alice and Will as tears streamed down her face. The memories of her father and mother before Springwood ever happened flashed before her as she struggled to pull Krueger out of the power plant and onto the loading dock.
Morning sunlight was filtering through the muddy windows and cracked glass as the star rose into the sky. Her fingers were flaring under the strain of pulling his weight behind her, but she pressed on. As she stepped into the receiving bay at the loading dock where Sean and Tessa had entered earlier, she noticed a squeeze bottle on one of the dejected workbenches. It was caked with grime, yellow and marked with permanent ink the phrase “lighter fluid.” She grabbed the bottle and felt the weight. It was half full and she took it along with the book of matches she found in a greasy jar just behind the bottle.
“What do you think Lori?” Freddy gurgled behind her, half laughing as his useless legs flopped back and forth, “You think this will be the big one?”
“Maybe,” Lori replied and gritted her teeth as she struggled to pull him out onto the loading dock. Her muscles were burning and crying out in pain. Her body felt as though she had run a decathlon. Her lungs ached from smoke and the toxic air of Freddy’s dream world. Her eyes had gone red from irritation, the left cornea rimmed with blood. Her skin was streaked with dirt and grime, her hair tangled with sweat and gore.
The heavy clouds above were melting away as pastel blue sky filled the horizon. The smoke from the Springwood fire was still thick and casting an orange tint over the sun, but it was shining nonetheless. The light caught the fleeting raindrops and mist causing it to glow as Lori dragged Freddy out onto the dock and into the light.
“I’m not a fucking vampire, you bitch,” he laughed bitterly.
“I know,” she said and then let go of his burnt clothing. Krueger fell on his back with a heavy thud, his head smacking hard against the cement. Lori flipped the spout open on the bottle and began squirting him with lighter fluid, dousing him from head to toe as his stumps bled more of his oily blood.
“What the hell is this?” he sputtered as some of the fluid splashed in his mouth, “This isn’t over, Lori!”
She made sure to soak his chest and legs thoroughly, “It will never be over.”
“You can kill me now, but I’ll come back for you. I swear I’ll come back for you!”
Lori took out the book of matches and ripped one of the blue-tips from the cardboard backing. She took a deep breath and looked at Freddy, her blue eyes alive and bright blue in the smoky morning light. Her tears had cleaned twin streaks of pale flesh down her dirty cheeks a she licked her bloody lips. She placed the match head between the folds of the cover and pulled.
She looked at the flame and then at Freddy.
“You bitch,” he seethed at her.
Lori dropped the match.
It tumbled through the cool morning air and then landed on Freddy’s stomach. Blue flame erupted in an “fwoosh!” of ignited air and kerosene. The blue edge of the fire fanned out across his body, traveling up his chest and down his legs and then finally to his face. Freddy writhed and kicked as his body burned and his clothes flamed and fell away. The stench of burning flesh invaded Lori’s nose as she stood back from the immolation unfolding in front of her.
Freddy’s hateful yellow eyes fixed on her through the blaze as he thrashed about on the dock, ash and blackened flakes of his dead body blowing into the breeze as the sunlight illuminated him. He howled and mewled and screamed as fire consumed him once again. The tendons in his legs fried and stiffened while the flesh and muscle sizzled and cooked. His internal organs boiled and finally burst inside his flaming body. Freddy wildly flailed his torso about as his boots caught fire and the rubber began melting.
“I’ll be back for you, you cunt!” he screeched, “Your children will never be safe! I’ll come for them and rip their fucking hearts out just make you scream! I’ll be back for you!”
Lori looked down at him impassively, “And I will be waiting for you.”
Freddy moaned one last time as his face burned away to reveal a blackened skull. The yellow eyes inside the sockets withered and shriveled as his body burned up in a blaze of hatred. The energy inside this physical incarnation of Krueger erupted from the corpse and ignited in the flames. It arched through the air and then bolted into the ground like red lightning. Lori stood back as the unearthly power of Freddy Krueger was returned to the depths of Hell. The smoldering monstrosity convulsed once, and then twice and finally was no more.
Lori turned her back on the pile of ashes and looked to the burning orange sun rising in the east.
“I’ll be waiting for you,” she said again and then collapsed.
***
Dr. Alexis Rowan was riding in the first of several cars that pulled into the Springwood Power Plant that quiet morning of Tuesday, May the 17th. The phone call she had received from Matthew Loomis earlier that morning had been both amazing and unbelievable. Rowan trusted few people in both her professional and personal life, but Matthew Loomis was one of those few people she could rely on. And if he told her that he had captured Jason Voorhees, then she was more apt believe him than anyone else.
As her driver pulled the sleek, blue Crown Victoria around the plant she saw on one side of the complex two police cruisers. One was overturned and smoldering with dark black smoke. As the car rounded the south end of the facility, she saw two people sitting on the loading dock. One of them was Loomis and the other was a blonde woman she didn’t recognize.
Rowan stepped out of the car even before it stopped completely, straightening out her smart black business suit. As she approached them, she began to realize that they both looked as though they had been through a meat grinder. The girl was stained with mud and grit, bleeding in several places and her hair matted down in wet locks. Loomis, normally always so professional in his suit and ties wore only his dress shirt, slacks and shoes. He too was covered in dirt, though the side of his face was bloody and gashed. He looked up at her and waved.
“Dr. Loomis,” Rowan gasped as he and the blonde woman stood up and greeted her, “What the hell happened?”
“Jason Voorhees happened,” Loomis took her hand and smiled as best he could.
“Your face,” she cringed sympathetically, “Oh, Matthew.”
“A flesh wound,” he reassured her.
“Are you okay, miss?” Rowan looked to Lori.
“Yes,” Lori crossed her arms and walked away from them. Loomis looked after her for a moment, as though he might say something and then decided against it.
“You said you captured him?” Rowan looked at Loomis as an ambulance, with its lights flashing and sirens wailing, pulled up beside the five white vans that had followed her in.
“Actually, two of the local police officers caught him,” Loomis grimaced and felt like crying as he thought of Sean and Tessa down in that awful place, “It cost them their lives, Alexis.”
“I’m so sorry,” Rowan put her arm around the doctor and led him to the ambulance. She glanced over at Lori, who was standing alone to the side of the dock, “Miss, would you come this way?”
Lori looked as though she had been woken from a dream, startled. She took her fingers from her chin and followed them over to the paramedics.
“The entire city has been burnt to the ground,” Rowan told Loomis as one of the emergency workers tended to the wound on his face, “It’s been all over the news for two days now. Jason did this all on his own?”
“No,” Loomis shook his head, “Michael Myers had something to do with it as well.”
“Thee Michael Myers?” she asked, her beautiful features gaping with awe, “he was here?”
“He was here and he escaped,” Loomis said dismally.
Rowan, who had spent her years in graduate school under the tutelage of Loomis, knew all about his work and history. She was in many ways the daughter he never had and it was her enthusiasm for the work that had reinvested Loomis after Mary split. She knew the stories of Jason Voorhees and Michael Myers by heart, and she also knew Springwood was famous not for either of them but for another reason. She said, “The latest reports have the mass suicides numbering over two hundred now.”
Loomis looked at her, understanding her completely, “Yes, I imagine they’ll discover more such cases as the investigation goes on.”
“Was it him?” she asked discreetly, the name of the dream killer on her lips.
“Oh yes,” Loomis nodded and then winced as the paramedic sterilized his wound, “It was very much him.”
“What happened?”
“Lori,” he nodded to the silent woman beside him, “She exorcised the demons, so to speak.”
Rowan nodded and looked to Lori with a healthy respect. She shook Lori’s hand and said, “Well done.”
“Thank you.”
Loomis watched as several men in what looked like generic military uniforms hopped out of the vans and scrambled about. They had all kinds of gear with them, including harnesses and chains. They carried assault rifles with them as they hurried into the complex though the loading dock. They trampled Freddy’s remains with the thick boots. Loomis was seized with the urge to tell them to go around the pile of ash, but thought better of it. He sighed and braced himself for the second round of disinfections.
“Dr. Wimmer has already tried to take control of this,” Rowan said to him confidentially as the paramedics turned their attention to Lori.
“Wimmer?” Loomis laughed, “Oh good God, I only called you an hour ago.”
“I had to get clearance to throw together a team. Wimmer’s my boss, unfortunately,” she shook her head and crossed her arms across her chest, “He almost came with me, but I convinced him it might be dangerous… asshole can stay in Dayton for the rest of his life, for all I care. He believes Jason should be studied for his regenerative abilities.”
“Jesus,” Loomis looked at her seriously, his eyes haunted, “Kill him. Work on a way to kill him, Rowan.”
“I intend to,” she smiled reassuringly and squeezed his shoulder. She looked around and lowered her voice, “What should be my official statement to the press?”
Loomis thought for a moment and said, “Tell them that the Springwood Police department valiantly fought and trapped Jason Voorhees. Tell them that he and Michael Myers were responsible for the mass fires and for the death of every single police officer in town. Tell them that two woman in particular, Lori Rollins and Alice Johnson, helped the two officers who trapped Jason. The mass suicides were a result of mass hysteria.”
Rowan took a pad of paper from her pocket, “Their names?”
“Officers Sean Renaud and Tessa Alexander,” he said as a tight sadness gripped his heart. He added, “They’re in the basin with Jason. Be gentle with them. They’ve earned their rest.”
“Of course,” she wrote the names down and then whispered, “And Freddy Krueger?”
“He’s dead,” Loomis looked out at the smoky sky, “He’s gone for now.”
“He never existed?” she suggested.
“No,” Loomis shook his head, “He was never here.”
“I understand,” Rowan said.
***
FIVE DAYS LATER
Lori stood in the Springwood Memorial Cemetery alone.
The sun was bright and shining, most of the smoke from the fires cleared out by the prevailing winds to the north. There was still the smell of smoke and destruction in the air, but it didn’t matter very much now. The city of Springwood was dead, burned and buried under a heap of rubble and ash. Lori had hoped it would stay that way, but she had already heard rumors of plans to begin rebuilding as soon as that coming fall. There were only two places in the city that hadn’t been destroyed by the fires; the power plant and the cemetery.
Lori thought there was a certain irony to that, but she had to let it go. In the days following her interviews with the police, state officials and the FBI she and Dr. Loomis had covered up the involvement of Freddy Krueger and pinned the crimes on Jason and Michael Myers. With a little help from Dr. Rowan, their stories were airtight and the government let them go five days after the battle in the power plant.
There was still a nationwide search going on for Michael Myers. The governor of Ohio had posted a reward of $100,000 dollars to the person who led the authorities to the serial killer. There were news reports about bounty hunters from all over the entire world showing up in the United States to hunt him down as well as mass sightings everywhere from Sacramento, California to Albany, New York. Like Loomis, Lori imagined that the search would be fruitless. Based on the news so far, she had no reason to believe otherwise.
As Loomis pointed out to her, Michael was nothing if not stealthy.
Rowan had left shortly after the inquest wrapped up. With her, she took the prisoner of the year Jason Voorhees. He had survived his blow to the head (much to no one’s surprise) and was still as angry and deadly as ever. They had chained him and locked him tightly for the transport to a protected facility where Rowan promised they would find a way to kill him. Lori trusted Rowan implicitly, though she knew her comfort was partially due to the trust Loomis had in her. Rowan had even talked about establishing a research facility at Crystal Lake in a better effort to understand Jason.
“The devil’s always in the details,” she had said to Lori the last time she saw her, “Maybe if we can figure out what keeps him alive in this environment, we can break his immortality.”
Lori agreed with that.
In front of her stood four headstones, three old and one fresh. The first three belonged to the long dead Johnson family, Alice’s father, brother and son Jacob. Next to Jacob’s headstone was the memorial to Alice Johnson. Lori had paid for the funeral herself from the money she and Will had been saving for a vacation to the Bahamas later that winter. Since there was going to be no vacation, Lori thought it was fitting that the money be used to honor her friend.
Inscribed on the headstone was this:
Alice Lisa Johnson
Beloved Mother, Daughter, Sister, Wife and Friend
September 15, 1970 – May 17th, 2005
And below this was an inscription that read:
“…Once and always the Dream Master…”
Lori had been hesitant at first to use the term “wife” as Alice and Dan Jordan had never had the chance to get married. But she also knew from what Alice had left with her that they would have if they had been given the chance, and that they would have been great together. She hoped Alice would have appreciated the gesture.
Lori placed two red roses on the fresh earth of her grave, one for Alice and one for Will. His body had been burned beyond recognition and burial in the fire that started in the police armory. So she buried his memory here with Alice where he could be safe.
“I love you both,” she kissed her fingers and then pressed it to the delicate petals of the flowers.
Lori shivered though it was not cold and stepped back from the graves. A breeze caressed her pale skin and carried her blonde hair to one side. She slipped her hands into the pocket’s of her jeans as her blue flannel shirt fluttered in the wind. She thought of Will and remembered how much she loved him. She wanted so badly just to see him one last time, even for one second.
She mourned her husband and her lost friend for what seemed like an eternity and then let them go. She released them from her heart and turned away from them. She could carry their memory with her, but she couldn’t carry the burden of their deaths. It wasn’t what either of them wanted and it was what Alice had warned her so passionately about.
“Good-bye.”
Lori closed her eyes and breathed in deeply as her skin tingled in a release of spiritual pain.
“Hello Lori.”
Lori didn’t have to ask who it was. She recognized the accent and the kindness in his voice. Loomis smiled at her gently as he walked up beside her. Lori looked at him and smiled back. His presence was comforting, and there was something so wonderfully familiar in seeing him again. He was dressed in his usual droll suit and dark overcoat, though he had shaved and trimmed his beard into a goatee. The knife wounds from Michael Myers had already begun healing, though he would be scarred for life. Loomis didn’t seem to mind all that much. Like Lori, he was happy to be alive.
“Dr. Loomis,” Lori hugged him.
“Are you well?” he asked as he returned the embrace.
She broke the hug and shrugged, “I’m… dealing.”
“You’re a survivor,” he said to her, “And the world owes you and Alice a debt of gratitude that can never be fully repaid.”
“They owe Sean and Tessa as well,” Lori added, “And you, doctor. We owe you too.”
The doctor nodded.
“Tessa’s family arrived to take her back to Michigan this morning,” Loomis cleared his throat, “She’ll be buried in the family plot so I’m told.”
“And Sean?”
“His brother, who lives in Oregon, has sent for him to be cremated and interred at the Springwood Memorial Monument.”
“They’re building a monument?”
“Yes,” Loomis smiled, “And it will actually be constructed on the land where the power plant is. The governor has ordered the complex condemned and destroyed to make way for the largest park and wild life preserve in Ohio. It will cover the entire area of the city limits, save for the cemetery. Springwood will be given back to nature after all.”
“That’s fantastic,” Lori said.
“Yes,” the doctor nodded and put his hands in his coat pockets, “I believe your father and Alice would have been very pleased.”
“I think so too.”
Loomis took a deep breath and then looked to Lori, “Tell me, eh… where will you go from here?”
Lori began walking, her arm linked around the crook of Loomis’ elbow, “I’m not sure. Probably back to New York. I make a pretty good living there as an accountant.”
Loomis tilted his head, his brown eyes bright with curiosity, “Might I suggest an alternative?”
Lori glanced at him doubtfully, “Like what?”
“Well,” he said, “With all that has happened, naturally I’ll be writing my memoirs and I’ll need some one there to refresh my memory and help keep track.”
“A secretary?” Lori asked.
“A glorified secretary,” Loomis laughed, “Actually, I was thinking of an assistant. You’d make a fine criminal psychologist given your experience.”
“You can’t afford me, doctor,” she patted his arm.
“And if I doubled you current salary?”
Lori looked him, her eyes wide and a half smile on her full red lips, “You’re serious?”
“Always,” he replied as they walked down the grassy knoll leading to the road.
Lori thought for a moment and then looked around her. Springwood was gone, all around them was the blackened burned out husk of the once thriving city. Soon, there would be no remains of the houses and buildings Freddy had haunted for so many years. Only animals and occasional visitors would be coming through here. Freddy’s reign of terror ended when the body in which he festered burned and blew away. The diseased vessel of Springwood was gone, and thus he had nowhere to go or to hide. What began with the locals taking the law into their own hands ended with the death of their city. It had come full circle. It was done.
“There’s no need for me here now, is there?” she asked as she surveyed the charred horizon. It was so flat, so featureless and twisted. Only the lone silhouettes of house frames and scorched trees and burnt cars dotted the landscape.
“No, I imagine not,” Loomis agreed, “But you are the Dream Master now.”
“Yes,” she said and then asked, “If he comes back?”
“Something tells me that if he ever comes back,” Loomis said, “You’ll be the first to know.”
Lori looked out across the smoldering city one last time and then at Loomis. She said, “I accept.”
Loomis grinned, his smile lighting up his kind eyes, “Excellent.”
Lori felt so safe at that moment, a feeling she hadn’t know but a few times before. And that was only with Will. Now, she felt it with this unassuming man who was almost twice her age. It wasn’t unbridled love or passion she felt for him or the budding of a romance. No, it was too soon to even consider that. Rather, it was a deeply affecting admiration and love as only two friends can feel. It was the kind of connection that only two survivors could know. She and Will had shared it and Alice and her had shared it. Now, she shared it with Loomis.
“Shall we?” she offered him her hand, and then added, “Matthew?”
Loomis smiled and took her slender fingers into his own.
“Indeed.”
***
EPILOGUE
In Haddonfield, Illinois Ray Carver and his mistress, Josie Burke were enjoying their limited time together. Josie had just purchased the old Strode house from the city with her first advance on her fifth novel, “Shock Therapy.” She had gotten it cheap, and it was a fixer upper opportunity to be sure. But Josie thought it had charm. And it was a great place for Ray to come when his battle-axe of a wife Lydia was making his life hell.
Ray was laying flat on his back in her bedroom, bare ass naked with his face buried in the folds of her cleanly shaved pussy. He darted his tongue in and out of her cunt, lapping at her and trying his best to make their quickie a quickie to remember. Josie, for her part, was on her hands and knees in the classic sixty-nine position as she sucked on his long, hard cock. He was trying his best not let go too soon, but her throaty moans were vibrating his shaft violently and bringing him closer to his orgasm.
Josie desperately held onto her cool as he ate her out, doing her damnedest to ignore the fluttering sensations tickling her from the lips of her cunt to up high in her stomach. She glanced over at the mirror bolted to the closet door briefly to see what they looked like. She loved seeing herself being intimate with a man, this man in particular. She was as perfectly toned and shaped as her lover, her perky breasts hanging down and swaying with each bob of her head as she polished his monster of a cock. She smiled as she sucked, thinking about how good they looked together.
Together.
Ray grunted as the moans coming from Josie’s throat teased his dick. She was bobbing up and down on him like a jackhammer, slurping and sucking on his pole for all she was worth. Ray turned his focus on her clit. Josie tended to run a little dry, but after a few minutes of flicking her love button with his tongue the right way, she was dripping wet. Ray felt himself overcome by his primal animal side and the uninhibited urges that Lydia used to enjoy so much. He felt powerful and in control while at the same time completely out of his mind.
He sucked and fucked her delicious cunt with his expert tongue, working the strong muscle back and forth and to and fro inside her. Josie tried to keep pace with the rhythm of his tongue as he attacked her clit. Ray wanted her off balance and at his mercy as he plunged two fingers deep inside her sex while at the same time he drove his tongue into her ass.
“Oh Jesus,” she whimpered.
Josie spit out his cock for a moment in a spray of precum and saliva as her body shook with pleasure. She uttered a breathless shout as he tongue fucked her hole. He pulled his fingers out and slapped her tight ass, encouraging her to keep going. Josie loved the sound of his powerful hand slapping her soft flesh and she sucked his cock deep into her mouth, the swollen head pressing into the wet interior of the back of her throat. She didn’t gag at all as she deep throated his ten-inch rod. Ray worked his lips methodically around her clit and suckled on her while squeezing her cheeks with both hands. Her nectar was dribbling down his chin as he passionately attended to her button.
Josie worked his shaft in and out of her mouth with a rabid urgency. He followed her pace, imagining that he was fucking her tasty snatch. He instinctively began letting his hips rock back and forth. Ray already sensed an unbearably hot pressure building inside him and he knew he getting close. Josie could almost feel his semen churning like the boiling reserves of an active volcano inside his sac. Ray went back to tongue fucking her and started teasing her clit with his fingertips. She reacted instantly and violently, her hips bucking against his mouth as though they were under a whip.
The delicate inner-muscles of her sex quivered against the texture of his tongue as she took one hand and massaged his swollen balls. She worked her mouth in a vigorous massage of his cock with every intention of milking him to the last drop. When Ray came, he always came hard and with a big load. He tasted so sweet to her and she found it was a pleasure swallowing.
She swirled her tongue around his cock and to her surprise felt it swell and grow a little bigger than it already was. She knew he was getting close to his climax, almost as close as she was. She had never been with anyone who could last as long as he could. Ray loved for them to orgasm together, and at the rate he was going, he would have his way. Josie felt beads of sweat rolling down her face and trailing down her underarms as her orgasm wound and tightened like a rubber band inside her, pulling and stretching to the point of no return.
“You taste so good,” Ray growled into her sex.
A familiar and undeniable heat seared from the heavy sack of his testicles to the base of his skull. He cried out into her cunt as his cock spasmed and erupted. His hot cream spewed from his head in tingling bursts, jetting out in huge gobs. The semen squirted down her throat and filled her mouth up as he unloaded his seemingly endless supply of semen. She swallowed as much as she could, savoring his cum as she would a fine wine.
Josie cried out suddenly as she felt the imaginary rubber band holding her orgasm back snap. A red-hot bloom exploded and spread out as her cunt trembled, unable contain the sensations anymore. She gushed her equally sweet hot nectar into his mouth in powerful spurts. Ray lapped at her like a dog, devouring the essence of her sex and not relenting until she had ejaculated all she had to offer.
Josie licked the length of his shaft, leaving his slowly retracting cock clean and shiny with saliva. She lifted one leg up and turned around to see Ray looking at her with a hungry gleam in his eyes that she knew all too well. He slid his hands up her stomach and to her full breasts, massaging them and playing with her painfully erect nipples. He rolled her nubs between his thumbs and forefingers gently, telling her in his own quiet way that he was still not satisfied.
“Patience,” she smiled and stood up, “Let me grab a rubber from the bathroom.”
“Are you kidding?” he groaned, “Come on. I can pull out…”
“Yeah, and when I end up pregnant you can sing that all you like,” she walked into the bathroom. She flipped the light on and was surprised to find it didn’t work. She frowned and then felt her way to the counter. The drawer pulled out and she fumbled through her toiletries until she found the small foil package.
“There we go,” she smiled. From the bedroom, she thought she heard Ray say something. She turned and called out, “What was that? I didn’t hear you.”
No reply.
“Ray?” she called as she opened the condom wrapper and tossed the used package in the trash, “Hello?”
Holding the blue ribbed condom in her hand, she walked back out into her bedroom and found Ray sprawled out on the bed. His chest was ripped open wide, revealing his ribs and underlying musculature. His dark eyes were closed and mouth popped open in a silent scream. Josie stepped back and dropped the rubber to the floor as her chest hitched and her bladder let loose.
“Oh fuck!” she cried and then felt a strong hand cover her mouth and pull her head hard to the right. There was a crunching sound at the base of her neck and a flare of heat before everything went black.
Michael Myers stood alone in the bedroom of his childhood home, enraged and ready to begin anew.
***
In the back of the heavily armored van, surrounded by six very angry and very serious guards armed with assault rifles, Jason Voorhees rode to his new home. Heavy chains were wrapped around his arms and legs, tightened and held with thick padlocks. He could feel the straps of leather around his body restricting his movement. There was a thick, steel collar around his neck that kept him locked into the large, medieval looking dolly on which he was restrained.
Jason slept, his tired eyes bloodshot and his black heart thundering. As his uneasy slumber overtook him, he dreamed he was back that the lake. It was the time of the day when the sunset and the night came, when Jason would usually emerge from his hiding and hunt. He walked the shoreline of the lake, his machete in hand and his mask securely fastened over his hideous face.
Here, he was safe.
To his surprise, he saw a man in a long, dark coat walking towards him. Jason gritted his teeth and began walking faster, ready to kill the intruder. The man in the black overcoat made no move to escape and as Jason came closer he saw that the stranger was wearing a matching dark hat with a wide brim. Jason suddenly became suspicious as he stomped along the shoreline. When he reached the stranger he swung with his machete as hard as he could.
The blade passed through as though it had been swinging at smoke. The man in the fedora looked up and grinned a horrible leer at Jason. Yellow eyes alive with irony and glee mocked him as the stranger whipped his right hand out and revealed a set of five bladed fingers. It was the dream killer.
It was Freddy Krueger.
Only it wasn’t Freddy as Jason remembered him.
“Mind if I hitch a ride, Voorhees?” Freddy chuckled and then swiped at Jason’s face as he began building the new nightmare, “We’re gonna have some fun…”
***
The man closest to Jason was the one who screamed first as the killer woke up, startled and furious. He watched with his colleagues as five long slash marks stretched out across the hockey mask as if though wrought by magic. Jason stiffened up and then began thrashing against his bonds. The guards tried to steady him but Jason toppled over and crushed two of them against the wall under his weight.
The van jumped and swerved under the change in it’s load bearing, and the driver was unable to compensate in time. The white van skidded to the right and then toppled over, screeching down the lonely stretch of southern Michigan highway. The side of the van caved in as it crashed through the guardrail and slid off into the ditch that lined the pavement.
Though none of the men in the van lived to hear it except Jason, there was a satisfied laugh of manic approval floating in the wind.
***
*THE END*
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