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andromytta · 6 years

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Claire’s Nightmare

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16467038

SPN Rare Ship CC: Round 22 | andromytta vs. @otrera-kicks-ass

Prompt: Freddy Krueger

Ship: Claire Novak/Kevin Tran

Word Count: 10,200

Tags/Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Blood and Gore, Canon Typical Violence, Major Character Injury

Summary: Claire Novak goes to Hastings, Nebraska to investigate what she believes to be a werewolf pack eating it's way through Hastings' teenagers. What she finds is so much different than she expected, and her case leads her to an old house on Elm Street. The question is, is Claire Novak hunting Freddy Krueger, or is Freddy Krueger hunting Claire Novak?

Author’s Note: Special thanks to my beta, @vampamber, who I think is the only person who knows the Nightmare franchise better than me, and to @l8nit-l0vr for the fabulous aesthetic!

Claire Novak pulled her red Subaru next to the ramshackle house at 1428 Elm Street in Hastings, Nebraska. She chose this case because kids her age were being slaughtered by something unknown. It didn’t hurt that it was only a couple of hours from the Men of Letters bunker, and she could spend the night with Kevin Tran if she wanted to. But that was neither here nor there. She had a monster to kill, and she had a pretty good idea of what it was. Or, she thought she had when she first caught wind of the bodies piling up in Hastings.

The official report stated exsanguination due to sharp force trauma as the cause of death. The police thought they were looking for a serial killer with a penchant for knives. When Claire saw the crime scene photos, and the slash marks all over the bodies, slash marks that looked like claws, Claire was sure the murderer (or murderers) was a pack of werewolves. Her specialty.

Her first stop was at the coroners’, to get a good look at the bodies and confirm what she already knew. Jody was always telling her not to jump to conclusions, so she needed to be one hundred percent sure these deaths were the work of werewolves. So, she expected to find missing hearts to go with exsanguinated bodies. What she found was nothing like what she was expecting.

“As you can see, the hearts are still there. Mangled to all hell, but still there,” the coroner explained matter-of-factly. “In fact, I don’t think this is a case for Animal Control at all, young lady. You see these cuts?” The doctor gestured to the newest body on the slab with her lollipop. “These were most definitely made by blades, not claws. That means the police are right and this is some human whack job, not wild animals.”

“Do the police have any clues?” Claire asked, hoping the coroner wouldn’t just dismiss her out right.

The coroner gave her a once over, as if trying to figure out what she was up to. She shrugged and answered her question. “That’s the weird thing. There were no prints and no DNA. Not a single shred of evidence was left behind. Either this serial killer is just that good…or something else is at work here.” The coroner threw her a wink before adding, “But that’s not really our jobs, is it?”

“No, of course not,” Claire agreed hurriedly. “Thank you for your time. Guess I’ll be going. Nothing for Animal Control here.” She left quickly.

Thus, her real investigation started. She had no idea what she was up against, but had traced all of the victims’ movements to this one dilapidated house. She thought it looked vaguely familiar, like something in the back of her mind nagging at her, but whatever it was, she couldn’t grasp it. Claire shook off that feeling, as well as the chills that were suddenly lodged in her spine and decided to investigate.

Claire made her way to the door and pulled out her lock picking set. Before she could even begin to pick the lock, the door suddenly swung open. Claire looked around her, expecting a breeze to be the culprit, but all of the surrounding trees were still. She shrugged and walked into the house anyway. As soon as she crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind her. “Well, that’s not creepy. At all,” she said to no one.

Steeling herself with a deep breath, Claire looked around. It was quite evident that taggers had their fun, as the walls were covered in graffiti of all sorts, in all shades of the rainbow. She took her digital camera out of her bag and started taking pictures of it, as she was well aware any manner of occult symbols could be hidden among the curse words and dick pics all over the walls.

Claire thoroughly explored the first floor. In what used to be the living room, she found where the dead kids had clearly been using the place as a make out den. There were sleeping bags and used condoms scattered about. “Gross.” After that, she made her way into the kitchen. The wall paper was peeling and torn, the appliances looked like they had seen better days, but other than that, there was nothing of significance. One thing she didn’t find was blood, but she wasn’t expecting to, since all the victims had died in their own beds. Finding nothing on the first floor, she made her way to the second floor.

As she climbed the stairs, her foot fell through the rotting boards about halfway up. Determined, she wouldn’t be stopped. Claire continued her trek, her foot sinking into each stair on the staircase. She made it upstairs, unscathed, and explored it one room at a time. At first, she didn’t find anything that different than what she found downstairs; a home that had been abandoned by its owners and left as-is. The master bedroom was just that, a master bedroom. It had fallen into disuse and decay, but there was nothing sinister about it. It was the same in the bathroom and one of the other bedrooms. That all changed when she reached the bedroom at the end of the hall.

She opened the door, and the room was covered in blood spatter. The spatter was clearly several decades old, but it was crystal clear that this room had once been a crime scene. Swallowing her initial shock, Claire entered the room, caution be damned. She slowly made her way around the room, taking in everything. Other than the blood, it looked like a normal teenaged girl’s room. There were pictures on the walls, and the brass bed was covered in soft blue bedding that looked like it might have been a floral pattern before it was blood covered. The nightstands matched the dresser. She noticed the pill bottles almost immediately. There was an almost full bottle of what appeared to be sleeping pills, prescribed to Nancy Thompson. Next to that was a nearly empty bottle of over the counter No Doz. “Whoa, this poor girl had issues,” Claire breathed to herself. That’s when an epiphany struck. It had to be a vengeful spirit, most likely Nancy Thompson. Her next move was clearly to look into Nancy’s life and see what she could find out.

Claire carefully made her way back down the stairs, avoiding the holes left when her feet were sucked into the stairs. She made it to the front door without further incident, blinking into the sunlight once she was outside. When her eyes finally adjusted, she looked across the street to where she heard chanting coming from. There she saw three girls dressed in white dresses from another century jumping rope. “Three, four, better lock your door. Five, six, grab your crucifix.” They were jumping in time to the rhythm of their rhyme. Claire would be lying if she said she wasn’t mildly freaked out. She quickly got into her car and drove away without looking back.

Claire spent the rest of the day in the library finding out anything and everything she could about Nancy Thompson, so that it was well after dark by the time she made it back to her motel room with her to-go greasy diner food. She could practically hear the lectures from Jody, Kevin, and Castiel as she dug into the gooey burger and crispy fries. As she ate, she went over everything she had learned about Nancy so far. Nancy Thompson was killed when she was just eighteen years old, a promising high school senior. Claire managed to get her hands on the autopsy photos (and if she had to flirt with the perky brunette coroner and take her out for a drink, well it was all just part of the job, right?) What she found should have surprised her more than it had. Nancy’s wounds were exactly like the ones on the recent victims. Claire also discovered that all of Nancy’s friends had fallen victim to the same serial killer. It turned out, authorities were working on the theory that the killer from 1984 was back. They couldn’t account for the fact that that killer would have to be 54 years old, at the youngest, assuming he started killing when he was 20. Considering the sophistication of the crimes, that seemed unlikely to Claire. There was also the niggling in the back of her mind that if the current kills weren’t done by Nancy’s vengeful spirit, then there was something else killing kids, and it was most likely the same thing that killed kids 34 years ago.

All those thoughts continued to swirl in Claire’s head as she took a shower, and swirled still as she fell into a fitful sleep. This case was already all consuming, and if she wasn’t already so exhausted, she might take a moment to be worried about that. As it was, she even forgot to check in with Jody or Kevin or anybody to let them know she was alright. Claire tossed and turned in bed for hours.

***

Claire walked up the immaculate sidewalk that was flanked on either side by a perfectly manicured lawn. The gray house and blue door were in pristine condition. She opened the door and walked into the brightly lit foyer. She followed the voices into the dining room just to the left. When she entered the room, her parents stood up from where they were having dinner.

“Claire! We thought you weren’t coming home for spring break! I thought you were road tripping with Alex and Patience.” Amelia Novak said as she wrapped her daughter in a big hug.

“I just decided to come home. I missed you guys.” Claire said with a shrug as she sat down at the table.

“Well, that’s great. We’re always glad to have you home,” Jimmy said. “How’s school going?”

“It’s good. It’s real good.” Claire said, beaming at her parents. “Changing my major to criminal justice was the best thing I ever did. My new advisor, Jody, I mean, Professor Mills, is fantastic.”

“That’s wonderful, Sweetie!” Amelia said as she passed the pot roast over to her daughter. “Tell us all about it.”

“Not so fast, girls,” Jimmy chastised them. “We need to say grace first. Then Claire can tell us everything over dinner.”

The said grace, and as they started to tuck into their food, Claire began an epic tale about how great her classes were, how awesome her friends were, and how totally in touch her advisor was. She was about to tell her parents about how she and Alex took Patience out for her birthday when all of a sudden, out of nowhere, everything came to a screeching halt.

A man appeared behind Amelia and slashed her chest open with his claws. He gave the same treatment to Jimmy shortly after. But wait, it wasn’t claws. It was a glove, with knives for fingers. The man looked at Claire from under his dirty fedora. He pointed a knived finger at her. “I’m coming for you next, Blondie.” His burned and scarred face twisted up into a sinister grin. “One, two, Freddy’s coming for YOU!” He laughed maniacally.

Claire startled awake, the man’s evil laugh and the rhyme stuck in her head. She couldn’t shake the image of her parents being slaughtered in front of her. She grabbed the waste basket next to her bed and vomited into it. Tears were streaming down her face, but she didn’t give in to the sobbing that wanted to wrack her entire body. ��No way, dude. I’m coming for you!” She packed up her belongings and left the motel, dropping her key card into the express check out box on her way out. She made it the 66 miles to the Men of Letters bunker in less than an hour.

***

It was still the middle of the night, everyone at the bunker was likely still asleep. Claire was still shook up and couldn’t get her key to work. She started pounding on the door, hoping someone would hear her. Kevin and Charlie sometimes stayed up late playing video games, and Castiel didn’t sleep. Dean barely slept. Surely someone would hear her and let her in. She needed to get in. She could still hear the burned man laughing behind her. “Come on, guys! Let me in! Let me in!”

Charlie Bradbury opened the door, her curly red hair in disarray. She took in the sight of Claire on the other side of the door, shaking, tears streaking her face. She barely got the words “What the” out of her mouth before Claire stumbled in, almost falling into the other girl’s arms. Charlie wrapped her in a big hug, and finally, Claire let the tears go and started crying for real. Charlie led her down the stairs and into the library where she and Kevin had an epic game of Mario Kart going on. Charlie said, “I think this belongs to you,” and handed Claire over to her boyfriend.

Kevin sat Claire down on the sofa. “Babe, what happened? What’s going on?”

Claire took a deep breath and told them all about the bodies that brought her to Hastings in the first place, and what she found once she got there. She told them about the house and what she found in the bedroom at the end of the hall. Finally, she said, “At first I thought it was the vengeful spirit of that Nancy Thompson girl, but then I had this dream, and oh God, it was awful. My parents were there, and then this man…or this monster…with burns and scars all over his skin and wearing this dirty red and green sweater…he-he came up behind them and slashed them to death with this…this weird glove-thing. And he said I was next. What was that rhyme? Oh, yeah. ‘One, two, Freddy’s coming for you….” She trailed off, and Kevin and Claire were just looking at her. “What? What? Why are you looking at me like I have two heads?”

The two started talking at once, as if in sync.

“1428 Elm Street?” Kevin asked.

“Nancy Thompson?” Charlie chimed in.

“One, two, Freddy’s coming for you. Three four, better lock your door. Five, six, grab your crucifix.” They sing songed the rhyme in unison, and that’s when it hit Claire.

“That’s what those girls were singing!” She exclaimed.

“What girls?” Kevin asked.

“These girls were playing jump rope in the yard across the street. They were singing that rhyme while they were jumping.”

“Where they wearing white lace dresses?” Charlie asked.

“Yes, yes they were!” Claire practically shouted. “Do you know what’s going on here?”

“You mean you don’t know?” Kevin asked in a placating voice.

“If I knew, I’d be kicking its ass, not here talking to you nerds!” She snapped back.

“It’s A Nightmare on Elm Street,” Charlie tried to calmly explain.

When Claire stared at them with a blank look, Kevin filled in the blanks. “It’s a classic horror film where this guy, Freddy Krueger, haunts people in their dreams and kills them. Nancy Thompson was a character in the movie, she was his arch nemesis. But he didn’t kill her.”

“Well, not until the third movie,” Charlie pointed out. “But by then, she was an adult.”

“Um, yeah, I’ve never heard of it. Why watch horror movies when I live in them?” Claire asked without humor. “And if this is a horror movie monster, how is he killing in the real world, and how is there detailed information about the death of Nancy Thompson on the internet?”

Charlie picked up her laptop off the coffee table, quickly hit several keys, and then turned it around to show Claire. “See, nothing about a teenager with that name being murdered in 1984. Lots of stuff about her being a character in the films and a bunch of Facebook profiles for people with her name. All of whom appear to still be alive and kicking.”

“Ok, ok, ok!” Claire said more loudly than strictly necessary. “So how the heck is this movie monster guy killing kids in Hastings, Nebraska? And how did I find all of that stuff? The coroner even had crime scene photos.”

Kevin and Charlie looked at each other and said, “Tulpa” at practically the same time.

“Could you guys stop doing that? It’s freaking me out more than I already am!”

“Sorry,” they said contritely. Claire leveled them with a death glare.

The sat in silence for a beat before Kevin spoke up. “You said there was graffiti all over the house and you took pictures, right? Let’s put it on Charlie’s computer and look at it. It’s likely someone painted a tulpa in that house. Someone who recognized the address and is messing with forces they do not understand.”

“Fine.” Claire dug her camera out of her backpack and handed it over to Charlie.

Kevin looked over at Claire as Charlie downloaded the photos to her laptop. “Babe, you look exhausted. Why don’t you go get some sleep?”

“No, no I can’t. I shouldn’t. Not yet. Not until we know how to kill this thought form or whatever he is.”

“Why don’t you two go to bed? No, Claire, you don’t have to sleep, just lie there and rest. Kevin, you go with her and keep her company. I’m going to look at these pictures and see if I can come up with anything.” Charlie said, and her voice brooked no room for argument.

“Good idea. Let’s go.” Kevin pulled Claire up off the couch and practically dragged her to his room.

Kevin tucked Claire into bed, curled up next to her, and Claire fell into a blissfully dreamless sleep. Possibly for the last time.

***

When Claire and Kevin finally emerged from his room, where they actually were just sleeping, it was to the smell of bacon and eggs and waffles. Dean, Charlie, and Sam were in the kitchen waiting for them. “It’s about time you two love birds made an appearance. Claire, there’s bacon, eggs, waffles, and some other stuff. Kevin, you can join Sam on the vegan side of the kitchen and leave the real food to the real men,” Dean greeted them as he was putting the final touches on breakfast.

“Dean, it’s you and Charlie and Claire. If any side of the room is the ‘real men,’ it’s us,” Sam protested with bitch face #9.

“Hey, just because we have lady parts instead of man bits does not make us any less real men,” Charlie quipped. “Just because you’re three times the size of me doesn’t make you more of a man!” She stuck her tongue out at the gargantuan Winchester.

Sam literally had no comeback for the feisty red head.

“Anyway,” Dean said as he sat down at the table. “Charlie filled us in on what’s been going on in Hastings. Is it really Freddy Krueger?”

“We think so,” Kevin said. “From what Claire described, it would be really strange if it wasn’t.”

Charlie chimed in, “But that doesn’t seem logical, since I couldn’t find a tulpa amongst the graffiti in the house. In fact, there were no occult symbols whatsoever.”

“Well, Cas should be back from Hastings in a little while. We’ll see if he can sense anything demon-y going on,” Dean said.

“You sent him by himself?” Claire exclaimed. “He’s not at full strength! What if Freddy comes for him?”

“Cas still doesn’t need sleep. It seems unlikely he’ll get attacked,” Dean explained. “He’s actually the least vulnerable.”

As if on cue, Castiel came into the bunker and joined them in the kitchen. “I didn’t sense anything demonic, or any vengeful spirits at the house,” he said without preamble. “But there is a very evil presence there, one I can’t identify. And Charlie is right, there is no tulpa symbol or anything else remotely occult painted anywhere in or on that house.”

“Hello to you, too, Cas.” Dean said with a grin.

“Hello.” Cas replied sarcastically to Dean. “Claire, I’m glad you are safe.” He added sincerely.

Dean turned his attention back to Claire. “You know, you really should have come to us first, especially working a case so close to home.”

“I thought I was dealing with a pack of werewolves. I think I know my way around them by now.” Claire replied with a growl.

“Yeah, and if it was just a pack of werewolves, you still could have used our help.” Dean stated.

“I’m not a kid anymore! I can take care of myself!”

“If you two are fighting with each other, then you’re not fighting the monster,” Cas said with exasperation.

“Sorry, Cas,” Dean said.

“Yeah, sorry,” Claire added.

“Ok, so what exactly are we dealing with here?” Sam asked, desperate to get the conversation back on task.

“Well, if there’s no tulpa or other occult symbolism, we need to figure out how Freddy is coming to life,” Charlie said.

“We could just burn the house down, be done with it,” Dean suggested.

“No! We can’t do that!” Claire exclaimed. “That house is in a neighborhood, with other people’s homes around it. We can’t risk burning down the other houses.”

“Also, there’s no guarantee it would even work,” Kevin pointed out. “Since it’s not a tulpa, we need to figure out what it is before we burn or destroy anything.”

Claire looked at her boyfriend like he hung the moon. “Babe, you are so smart.”

“Hey, there’s folks eating here!” Dean interrupted before the moment could get too mushy.

Claire took Kevin’s hand across the table and looked pointedly at Dean. “We don’t care.”

“Aw! Young love!” Charlie exclaimed.

“Ok, you guys are even kinda grossing me out,” Sam said. “Can we get back to the case?”

“I actually do have an idea about that,” Kevin started. “In the original movie, Nancy pulled Freddy out of her dream and into the real world, and there she was able to defeat him. Maybe Claire can pull him out of her dream.”

“Yeah, but he only let her think he defeated him. Remember, he created that dream where Nancy’s mom stopped drinking and all her friends came back to life. We knew he wasn’t dead because of Glen’s car.” Charlie pointed out.

Claire watched them, her head swinging back and forth between them. “What are you nerds talking about?”

“At the end of the movie, Nancy thought she defeated Krueger, and asked him to bring back her friends. But really, they were still dead. When Glen put up the rag top on his convertible, it was the colors of Freddy’s sweater, so the audience knew he wasn’t dead and it was all a trick.” Charlie explained.

“Ok, but that’s a movie and this is real. And I’m sure we know a lot more tricks than Nancy did. I can still bring him out of my dream and we can find a way to kill him, on our turf.” Claire said.

“Not if he’s a thought form,” Sam added.

“Yeah, how do you kill a thought?” Dean asked, unhelpfully.

“We have to figure out what’s giving it its energy,” Kevin suggested. “We may still need to bring him out of Claire’s dreams though, even if we do find its energy source. Hell, we may just have to do that to find the energy source.”

“What do you mean?” Claire asked.

“Like magic finds like. If we bring him out of your dream, he might lead us to whatever it is.”

“No, we can’t do that,” Claire said, suddenly discouraged. “We can’t risk bringing him into the real world. Think of how much more damage he can do on this side of the dreamscape. It’s bad enough what he’s doing now. And maybe, since he’s focused on me, we can keep him like that until we can kill him. Keep him coming after me so he doesn’t go after anyone else.”

“I don’t like it,” Dean said.

“You think I do? It’s my nightmare. But it’s the only way. Those kids in Hastings can’t hold their own with him. I can.” Claire had a determined set to her features, one Dean recognized, from the mirror. He knew there was no arguing with her.

“Fine, but I’m coming with you.” Dean said.

“You can’t,” Sam said. “We’re out of African dream root.”

“Then find some more!” Dean exclaimed.

“I actually have some on order from the herbalist in Topeka, but it’s on backorder, like, everywhere.” Sam stated. Dean leveled a look at his younger brother. “But I’ll call the guy and tell him to make it a priority.”

“Ok!” Claire said as she stood up and cleared her plate. “I’m going back to the murder house.”

“What? Why?” Kevin asked. He already did not like this idea.

“It’s where this guy’s energy is the strongest, right?” Claire looked at Cas for confirmation.

“Yes, but it’s evil energy, Claire. Very evil,” Cas said.

Claire rolled her eyes. “Obviously. But if I’m going to keep him focused on me, and away from innocent high school students, I need to be where he can find me.”

“But you’re going now? It’s not like you’re going to sleep now.” Kevin protested.

“I know, but I need to get his attention.” Claire shrugged, “and maybe I can find whatever it is that’s fueling him.”

“I’m going with you.” Kevin said.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Claire smiled at him.

***

Charlie insisted on going with them, insisting she just had to see the Elm Street House, so a couple of hours later, they were pulling into the driveway.

“Holy mother of Chuck! This really does look like the house! It’s the same address and everything!” Charlie exclaimed as she got out of the car and practically bounced up to the ramshackle house. “I mean, clearly it’s seen better days, but it could be the same house. Which is weird, since that house is in California.”

“Yes, but Freddy Krueger did say that every town has an Elm Street,” Kevin added unhelpfully.

“You’re right,” Charlie agreed.

“Could you two nerds stop fangirling over this creepy ass house and help me find a way to stop this bastard?” Claire said, slamming her car door and stomping up to the house.

As soon as they were through the door, Charlie took a look around and with a definitive nod declared, “Yeah, this place is disgusting. We are not staying here. We’ll spend time looking around to see what we can see, but then we’re going back to own beds at the bunker.”

“Fine, let’s get on with it,” Claire griped, stomping around the first floor.

As they explored the house, Kevin and Charlie decided to take more detailed pictures to see if they missed anything. Claire looked around the living room and kitchen again, but didn’t find anything different than before.

“There’s nothing new down here. Let’s go upstairs,” Claire said after circling the first floor for the fifth time.

“Ok, come on,” Kevin agreed while Charlie continued taking pictures. “Charles, we’re going up stairs!”

When they started climbing the stairs, Claire kept looking down, clearly confused. “Babe, what’s wrong?” Kevin asked.

“It’s the stairs,” Claire said.

“Yeah, what about them? They look like normal stairs.”

Claire looked at Kevin like he was the one going crazy. “Exactly. When I was here yesterday, my foot fell through the stairs, all of them from about half way up.”

“That’s like what happened to Nancy in the movie!” Charlie exclaimed behind them, causing at least one of them to scream like a little girl. It was Kevin.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! You scared the shit out of us!” Claire chastised her.

“Sorry, my dudes. But I was not about to be left alone down there.” Charlie shuddered at the thought.

“Fine, let’s get on with it then,” Claire said in an annoyed whisper.

“Why are we whispering?” Kevin asked.

“Shhh!” Claire and Charlie said to him.

They went from room to room, each one empty save for cob webs and dust bunnies. There wasn’t even the dilapidated furniture Claire saw on her last visit. “This is so weird. These rooms were furnished, I swear,” Claire whispered in awe. “What the fuck is even going on?”

“I don’t know,” Kevin whispered back as he took her hand. “But we’ll figure it out.”

Finally, they made their way to the room at the end of the hall, Nancy’s room. Claire gasped and slowly entered the room, dropping Kevin’s hand in the process. She walked slowly around it, touching things. Everything was still there, Nancy’s furniture, her posters, even the blood spatter. The pill bottles were still on the nightstand. “Do you guys see this? Charlie, take pictures.”

Kevin walked in behind her and put a hand on her shoulder. “Claire, Sweetie, there’s nothing here. This room is as empty as all the rest.”

“He’s right,” Charlie agreed. “There’s nothing for me to take pictures of, except blank walls and empty space.”

“No, you’re wrong! How come you can’t see it? Look, this is her bed, Nancy’s bed!” She pointed at the bed. “See her pictures on the walls? Her furniture? And the worst part, her blood. It’s everywhere.”

Kevin took her hand again. “Well, let’s just say it’s something you can see but we can’t. Charlie, take pictures. Maybe something will be picked up on camera that we don’t see.”

“Good idea,” the red head agreed.

“So, you guys don’t think I’m crazy?” Claire asked softly.

“Of course not. We’ve all seen stranger things than a room that only one person can see.” Kevin said.

“Ok, good. Well, let’s get out of here and head back to the bunker. I should probably go to sleep soon.” Claire said. “Oh, wait,” she stopped before heading out the door and grabbed something only she could see off of the nonexistent nightstand and shoved it into the pockets of her leather jacket. “Now we can go.” She nodded and headed for the stairs.

As soon as she stepped out into the sunshine, Claire heard it. “One, two, Freddy’s coming for you. Three, four, better lock your door. Five, six, grab your crucifix. Seven, eight, better stay up late…” And there they were, right across the street, just like before. She also heard Kevin and Charlie whispering behind her.

“You see that, right?” Kevin said.

“Definitely,” Charlie replied, pulling out her camera and taking pictures.

Claire turned to look at them, her blonde hair whipping around with her. “You see those creepy girls too, right?”

“Yep,” Charlie said, popping the “p” as she continued to snap photos.

“Yeah,” Kevin said, his voice trailing off as he reached for Claire’s hair. “Um, Babe, your braid…it’s white.”

“What?” Claire asked as she grabbed her hair from his hand. Sure enough, her “Viking warrior” braid she always had during a hunt had gone from blonde to white instantly. “Let me guess, the same thing happened to Nancy?”

“Yeah,” Kevin said. “When she brought Freddy’s hat out of her dream, her hair suddenly had a silver streak in it.”

“Whoa, wait,” Claire said as she pulled the two bottles from her pockets. “Look.”

Kevin stared at the bottles Claire held out in her hands, and Charlie grabbed them. “Oh my gosh! This is a prescription for Benzodiazipine, for Nancy Thompson, from May of 1984. This other one is No Doz that expired in the eighties. This is what you found in her room?”

“Yeah.” Was all Claire said.

“A prescription for a fictional character from an empty room in an abandoned house. What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?” Kevin asked.

“I have no idea, but we have to stop it,” Claire said, taking a shaky breath and heading towards her car.

Charlie put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You will. Freddy is always defeated by a young woman.”

“Yeah, but he always comes back,” Kevin added, unhelpfully.

“Well, I’ll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen this time,” Claire said with determination.

***

Back at the bunker, Kevin and Charlie dug into the research, trying to figure out what was tying Freddy Krueger to the real world. Their laptops clacking away like dueling pianos of data compiling. Claire paced around the library, rattling the pill bottles she hadn’t been able to let go of since they left the murder house.

“Hey, Babe, can you sit down, you’re kinda making me anxious over here,” Kevin said after about thirty minutes.

Claire scowled at him. “No, no I can’t sit down. The only way I can get to Freddy is in my dreams. In order to dream, I need to sleep. In order to sleep, I need to get rid of this excessive energy. So no, I cannot sit down.”

Dean appeared as if on cue. “Come on, Kiddo, there are more productive ways to burn off excess energy. Let’s let the nerds do their thing.” He led her out of the library and down the hall. “So, what will it be? Shooting range or punching bag?”

“Punching bag,” Claire said. “I would really enjoy hitting something right now.”

“Good idea. Let’s go.” Dean took her down to the ancient bunker’s somehow perfectly equipped gym.

Claire was just getting her rhythm going on the heavy bag, hitting and kicking it for all she was worth, while Dean was cheering her on from the chair in the corner. “Great job, Kiddo. Kick its ass!” When Kevin came running in.

“We think we found something. We might know what he’s tied to! What’s tying Freddy to the real world!” Kevin said, clearly out of breath.

The interruption startled Claire out of her rhythm, and when she suddenly stopped her attack on the bag, it swung over and popped her hip causing her to stumble and nearly fall.

“Smooth move, Rocky,” Dean chuckled from the corner, earning a glare from Claire. Dean turned quickly away from her and instead asked Kevin, “What did you find out?”

“So get this, and I can’t believe Charlie and I didn’t figure this out before, but after they filmed the third movie, the original prop glove, you know, the one with razor fingers, well, it disappeared,” Kevin said in one breath. “Anyway, we think that glove is somewhere in that house, and the combination of that, along with all the psychic energy from everyone who is a fan of the films, well, it combined into one pretty powerful thought form that suddenly seems to have a taste for pretty blondes.”

“Well, that was a creepy way of putting it,” Claire said.

“She’s not wrong,” Dean added. “Are you sure it’s not you?” He chuckled.

“What? No!” Kevin protested, levelling his own glare on Dean.

Dean looked appropriately frightened. “Geez, did she teach you that?”

Kevin grinned and shrugged. “Maybe.”

***

That night Kevin and Claire were getting ready for bed. Claire was going to sleep while Kevin kept guard, which he was none too happy about. “Babe, are you sure you don’t want me to go in with you? Sam got a hold of the African dream root. I can be there for you.”

“No, no way,” Claire insisted. “If he kills you in my dream, you die in real life. I can’t risk that. I can’t lose you.” She said that last sentence almost to herself. “Besides, I need you here, awake, in case the shit hits the fan so you can wake me up. And no matter what, don’t let me sleep for more than an hour, ok?”

“Ok, yeah, fine, got it,” Kevin said, and if he pouted a little, well, no one commented on it.

***

Claire walked up the immaculate sidewalk that was flanked on either side by a perfectly manicured lawn. The gray house and blue door were in pristine condition. She opened the door and walked into the brightly lit foyer. She followed the voices into the dining room just to the left. When she entered the room, her parents stood up from where they were having dinner.

Except, it wasn’t Jimmy and Amelia Novak having dinner at the dining room table. Dean Winchester stood up and smirked at Castiel, who was at the head of the table. “Aw, look, Cas, our little girl is home from college. They grow up so fast!”

“Dean, what are you guys doing in my dream?”

“Well, I used some of that African dream root, and Cas, well, angels can dream walk and he insisted I not go in alone.”

“God, Dean, are you really this stupid? You know if he kills you here you die for real, right?” Claire shouted. “This is my fight!”

Dean came around the table and steered Claire to sit down. “Yes, but it’s a fight you don’t have to do alone. Besides, do you know how many creepy creepers have tried to kill me? It never sticks. I’m Dean Fucking Winchester.”

Freddy Krueger always had a sense for the dramatic, and this time was no exception. As if on cue, he appeared and gripped Dean’s face in his non-gloved hand. “And I’m Freddy Fucking Krueger, and what I kill, stays dead.” He turned his gaze on Claire. “I can take everything you love.” He reached his knived hand up and drove it towards Dean’s chest.

“NO!!!!!!!!” Claire shouted as Castiel reached across like the angel he was and caught Freddy by the wrist.

“Wait your turn, pretty boy, you’re next,” Freddy said as he wrenched his wrist out of Castiel’s iron grip.

“You can’t kill me. I’m an angel, you ass.” Castiel retorted as he reclaimed his grip on Freddy’s wrist and punched him in the face.

Freddy stretched his burned face into a wicked grin. “I can if these are angel blades.” Before their eyes, his razor blades suddenly became smooth, silvery angel blades.

Dean, who utilized the distraction to free himself from Freddy’s grip, asked in a small voice, “How-how did you know about those?”

“I’m in her head,” Freddy pointed at Claire. “Whatever Blondie knows, I know.”

“Fuck this shit! I will not let you hurt them!” Claire shouted, standing up and kicking the chair out from under her. She grabbed his wrist just below where Cas maintained hold on it. “I will find a way to stop you, and I’m sure this is the key!” With a burst of dream-induced strength, Claire pulled Freddy’s wrist free from Cas and slammed his glove into his face.

With a jump, Claire found herself back in bed. “What, what happened?”

“You told me to wake you in an hour,” Kevin explained. “You were tossing and turning pretty badly.”

“Oh my God! Dean and Cas! I need to make sure they’re ok.” She jumped out of bed and ran down the hall to Dean’s room and flung the door open. Dean was sitting up in his bed, Cas in the chair next to him with his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“We’re ok, we’re both ok,” Dean assured her.

“Don’t you ever do that again!” Claire said, rushing into the room and giving them both a hug. “Please, don’t make me watch him hurt you.”

“Claire, you don’t have to do this alone. We can hold our own, you know.” Dean tried to reassure her.

“But that’s just it. I do have to do this alone. He chose me for a reason, and now I’m going to stop him.”

“Claire, you’re not being smart about this,” Cas added. “Let us help you.”

“That’s just it, you can’t help me. All you’ll do is distract me. Next time, I have to go in alone. But I won’t go without a plan, I promise,” Claire pleaded with them.

“So, what, you’re just not going to sleep again until you have plan?” Dean did not like where this was going.

“If that’s what I have to do, then that’s what I have to do.” Claire said with a shrug.

Dean realized there was no arguing with her, so instead he asked, “How can we help?”

“I’m not sure right now. I guess just let me and Kevin and Charlie do our jobs and find out where that glove is. Then, I can kill him.” Claire said, hoping they would drop it for now.

***

Claire, Kevin, and Charlie spent the better part of the week at 1428 Elm Street searching for the glove. They cleaned it up and set up a temporary command center. Kevin and Charlie would take turns going back to the bunker to sleep, with Castiel watching over them, just in case. (Angels didn’t need to sleep, so he was the best candidate for the job.) Meanwhile, Claire, who refused to sleep until she was ready to face Krueger again, was eating No Doz like it was candy.

“You know, you could be drinking these delicious cherry flavored energy drinks instead of popping those little pills,” Charlie said, wiggling a blue bottle in front of her.

“Easier to pop pills,” Claire said absently. She looked up briefly. “Does your bottle say ‘Bawls’?”

Charlie nodded then said, “At least tell me you’re not taking those expired ones you found in the dream room.”

“No, I bought these yesterday,” Claire said without looking up from the book she was flipping through. “They worked for Nancy, so they should work for me.”

“Guys, we’ve been all through this place with a fine toothed comb and we haven’t found a damn thing!” Kevin exclaimed suddenly, slamming his laptop down on the table. He was looking over the pictures Charlie had taken for the umpteenth millionth time.

His outburst seemed to knock Claire out of her stupor. She rounded the table to his side of it and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “We’ll figure it out, we have to. You’re exhausted. It’s your turn to go back to the bunker, why don’t you get some rest.” She kissed the top of his head just as Charlie’s phone rang.

“Elm Street Command Center, Queen of Moons speaking,” Charlie said, setting her phone on the table. “You’re on speaker, Bunker Control 1.”

“You’re on speaker too, Charlie,” Sam said from the other device.

“Hey, why is he Bunker Control 1?” Dean griped in the background.

Claire rolled her eyes, even though Dean couldn’t see her. “Hey guys. You got something?”

“Yeah,” Dean said. “Sam made me watch the Freddy movies…”

“No, Dean made us watch. He’s the horror movie buff. Why would I willingly watch a horror movie when we live in one?” Sam interjected.

“That’s what I said!” Claire agreed.

“Anyway,” Dean spoke up again, “did you guys ever check the basement? Remember, in the first movie, Nancy’s mom kept the glove in the furnace in the basement.”

Kevin, Charlie, and Dean all started talking over each other as they were discussing the finer points of the films before Claire and Sam’s sharp whistles brought them back on task. “There’s just one problem with that,” Claire said. “This house doesn’t have a basement.”

“Yes it does,” Sam said. “I looked at the blueprints once Dean made his observation.”

“But we’ve been all over this place and never found basement stairs,” Kevin said.

“Of course we didn’t!” Claire exclaimed. “It’s another one of his tricks. Like Nancy’s room. He makes us see what he wants us to see. To mess with us.”

“Sam, email me those blueprints?” Charlie asked. “Claire and I will find it and we will find that glove. Kevin is on his way back to the bunker. It’s his turn to sleep.”

“Already sent, my queen,” Sam said. “Good luck. Talk to you guys later.”

“Later dudes,” Claire said before pressing “end call” on Charlie’s phone.

“I’m not going back to the bunker. I’m staying here to help you guys look for the basement and find the glove,” Kevin stated, trying to stifle a yawn and failing.

Claire shoved the car keys in his hand. “No, nope, no way. You are going back to the bunker and you’re going to get some rest. We’ve got this under control.”

“You’re one to talk,” Kevin griped as he let Claire lead him out to the car. “You haven’t slept in, like, a week.”

“Yeah, but I’m a hunter and we don’t need sleep. You’re a nerd. You do. Go home.” Claire gave him a quick kiss on the lips before pushing him into the car and watching him drive away.

“Welcome back!” Charlie chirped from her spot where she appeared to be hugging the wall. “While you were saying goodbye and good night to your looovah, I was looking over those blueprints that Sam sent. The basement should be behind this wall,” she stepped away and dropped her arms. “But all I can find is, well, wall.”

Claire strode purposefully up to said wall. “So, I guess the question now is, did this wall come from actual, physical renovation of the house, or is it a wall the same way Nancy’s room is filled with furniture and blood?”

“I’m going with door number two. I researched the history of this house, and it has never had a permit issued for renovation. I know, I know. It’s possible the owners didn’t apply for a permit, but a psychic wall just seems much more likely. And way cooler, if you ask me.”

“This Krueger creep does like to mess with our heads, that’s for sure,” Claire said as soon as Charlie paused for breath. “So, psychic wall it is. How do we get past it?”

“I don’t think we get past it so much as you get past it.” Charlie replied.

“So what do I do?”

Charlie shrugged. “I dunno. I guess just focus on it and concentrate really hard and think ‘basement door’?”

“Oh, that’s helpful,” Claire said sardonically, but did what Charlie suggested anyway and put her hands on the wall and thought “door.” It must have worked, because before long, Claire found herself turning a doorknob and the creaky door opened, its rusted hinges protesting loudly.

“You did it!” Charlie said slapping her arm jovially. She led the way down the stairs, turning on her industrial flashlight. “You know, it’s weird,” Charlie said as they started down the rickety steps.

“What’s weird?”

“Kevin and I have practically lived at this house for the past few days, and Krueger hasn’t come after us yet.” Charlie explained.

“Yeah, and your point? This is a good thing.”

“Nothing, it’s just weird. Not his M.O., you know? Freddy likes to kill the protagonist’s friends and leave her all alone and scared. So, it’s weird.” Charlie shrugged as they came face to face with the furnace. “Oh, look, here we are!”

Claire reached a tentative hand towards the furnace, illogically expecting it to come blazing to life under her touch.

“You’re supposed to open it, not pet it,” Charlie helpfully supplied.

“I know that!” Claire snapped and turned the handle to open the furnace. Nothing happened. “Dammit! It’s stuck.”

“Ok, so go let’s get the crowbar and jack this sucker open!”

Claire looked at the furnace, then to Charlie, then back again for several beats before saying anything. “I can’t. It’s in the car…that Kevin drove back to the bunker.”

“Well, shit,” Charlie said. “But this is a basement, surely there is something in here we can use to pry the door open. Start looking.”

Claire nodded and headed to one side of the room while Charlie took the other. As they looked, Charlie resumed their previous conversation. “So, why do you think we’ve been spared thus far?”

“Huh?” Claire asked as she rummaged through a shelf.

“From Freddy.”

“Oh, that’s a good question. Maybe it’s because he knows it will only piss me off more? Or maybe it’s like that one where that girl had to bring the other kids into her dream for him to find them.”

“You’ve been doing your homework,” Charlie said proudly.

“Yeah, well, when you’re hunting a monster, you study all the lore you can. Best lore on Freddy Krueger? The Nightmare on Elm Street movies. Also, gave me something to do since I’m currently not sleeping.”

“Good point,” Charlie agreed. “Ok, so why hasn’t he gone after Dean or Cas again? They were in your dream.”

“Well, Cas is an angel and therefore doesn’t need to sleep, and Dean…well, where do you think I keep getting the No Doz? He’s not sleeping either.”

“We really gotta get this guy. Not sleeping is not healthy, and I do not want to see my people die from lack of rest,” Charlie said with determination. That’s when she found it. “Ah ha! Crowbar acquired! Let’s bust that sucker open.”

“Excellent! Gimme!” Claire unceremoniously grabbed the crowbar from Charlie and went right to work on the stubborn furnace door. “Open says me!” She exclaimed as it popped open for her. She reached inside and nearly jumped as her hand closed around a cloth wrapped object. It practically buzzed in her hand. “Charlie, I think this is it.” She pulled it out carefully and unwrapped it with reverence. What was revealed was the exact prize they were looking for. Claire held the leather glove carefully, trying not to cut herself with the blades that were where the fingers should be. As she removed it from the cloth, the buzzing got stronger. “Charlie, do you feel that?”

“Feel what?” She snatched the glove out of Claire’s hand. “I don’t feel anything.”

“You can’t feel the power coming off of it?”

“No. You can?” Charlie looked in awe when Claire nodded. “That means this must be it. And that you are meant to find it, and use it.”

“What?” Claire squeaked. “What for?”

“To kill Freddy, obviously. Once and for all.”

The girls made their way back upstairs to their command center to start strategizing about what to do next. Before they even had a chance to start planning, Claire’s cell phone rang, followed closely by Charlie’s. When Claire saw who was calling her, her knees immediately went out from under her, and her breath left her body in a whoosh.

“Castiel, what’s wrong?”

“It’s Kevin, I’m afraid—“

Claire cut him off. “Oh God. He’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Claire, calm down. It’s just a coma.”

“Just a coma???? That’s even worse!”

Castiel sighed into the phone, sounding tired, even though that shouldn’t have been possible. “How is that worse?”

“I don’t know, but it’s just as bad!” Claire swallowed against a sob that barely escaped her throat. Taking a deep breath she finally asked, “What happened?”

“He was sleeping soundly, and suddenly he started thrashing around. I tried to wake him up, and I thought I succeeded, but then he suddenly went still. His body is whole and unharmed, aside from the coma. I could dream walk again, see if I can pull him out.”

“NO! Don’t you dare, Castiel. Freddy knows how to kill you. I won’t risk losing you both. It’s up to me, I have to save him. It’s what he wants, he wants me.” Claire said with determination. “Well, he’s going to get me.” She hung up her phone and clutched the glove to her chest.

Claire turned to Charlie who was just hanging up her phone. “Kevin is in a coma. Freddy’s got him. I have to go in and rescue him!”

“I know,” Charlie said. “That was Dean on the phone. He’s on his way to come get us. He made me promise not to let you do anything stupid before he gets here. He’s taking us back to the bunker and we can figure out where to go from there.”

“No way, Charlie! Who knows what Freddy is doing to him right now! Kevin may not have time for us to sit around the table contemplating our navels. I need to go after him now!”

“And just how do you propose to do that? You’ve been eating No Doz like candy. It’s not like you can fall asleep without some help.” Charlie gave her a smug look.

“You’re right!” Claire said, reaching into her coat pocket and pulling out Nancy Thompson’s Benzodiazipine and shaking it in the other girl’s face. “And look, I’ve got Nancy’s little helper right here.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow at her. “Those won’t work.”

“Yeah, they will.”

“Dude, those aren’t even real. Even if they were, they’re like, 34 years old. You’ll be lucky if they don’t make you puke your guts out.”

“Of course they’ll work,” Claire said, as if in a daze. “He left them for me. He wants me to use them.”

“Who?”

“Fred Krueger.”

“Well, that’s even more reason to not use them,” Charlie tried to reason with her, tried to kill time until Dean came to get them. She reached for the pills, but Claire snatched them away and held them close.

Claire came out of her daze and said with resolve, “I’m going after him, Charlie. There’s nothing you can do to stop me, so you should just help me.”

“Help you, how?”

“Watch over me. Wake me up if it looks like I need it. Don’t let him take both of us.”

“There’s no way I can talk you out of this, is there?”

“Nope,” Claire said with a swish of blonde hair.

“Ok then, I’ll keep an eye on you. But if Dean kills me, I’m coming back to haunt you.”

“You know, other people might find that funny, but hunters, not so much,” Claire said with a weak smile.

“Duly noted.” Charlie returned her smile with a matching one.

Claire poured a handful of pills into her hand and popped them into her mouth. Charlie handed her a water bottle to wash them down. Claire hopped onto the coffee table they were using as a desk, slipped on the razor tipped glove, laid down, and closed her eyes.

***

Claire walked up the immaculate sidewalk that was flanked on either side by a perfectly manicured lawn. The gray house and blue door were in pristine condition. She opened the door and walked into the brightly lit foyer. The light flickered and sparked out, and suddenly Claire was no longer in her brightly lit childhood home in Pontiac, Illinois. She was now in the dilapidated house at 1428 Elm Street, in Hastings, Nebraska (or any other Elm Street in America.) When she looked down, she was no longer dressed like “Biker Barbie.” Instead, she was dressed eerily like Nancy Thompson, in soft pink cotton pajamas with flowers embroidered on the lapels. Luckily, she was still wearing her best weapon, Freddy Krueger’s original glove.

As Claire took in her surroundings, she realized this wasn’t the Elm Street house she had grown used to. The furnishings were still there, for one thing. And they were oddly familiar. After just a few moments, she realized that not only was she in Nancy Thompson’s clothes, she was in Nancy Thompson’s house. “Really, dude? Could you be any less creative?” She said under her breath as she started to explore.

She found nothing on the first floor, but that’s what she kind of expected. There was really only one room in the house where Kevin was likely to be. Claire sighed and steeled herself as she made her way to the stairs. By now, she thought she knew what to expect. Freddy enjoyed messing with her. He did it at the other house, and this one would be no different. She gingerly stepped on the first stair. It was solid, but she carefully continued her ascent. Sure enough, by the time she got to the fourth stair, her foot sunk right in. What was freaking her out more than the sinking steps was the fact that she was not being chased, that she appeared to be totally alone in the house.

“Get it together, Novak,” she chided herself. She ran the rest of the way up the stairs, her foot sinking each time it hit carpet. She raced to the room at the end of the hall and flung the door open.

“So good of you to finally join us!” Freddy cackled. He was standing in front of the bed, holding Kevin off of the ground by his throat. His feet were kicking, seeking the ground, and he was barely breathing. The boy did not look good.

“Ok, so you caught a boy. Good for you. Why don’t you just toss him back? It’s me you really want.” Claire wasn’t sure if taunting an evil thought form was the best idea, but begging him to let Kevin go was absolutely not an option. Claire Novak didn’t beg. Ever.

Freddy looked over at Kevin and snarled, tightening his grip on the boy’s neck. He turned back to Claire. “Sorry, babe. I don’t participate in ‘catch and release’!” He started to squeeze harder when Claire dropped to a crouch and knocked him off of his feet with a sweeping kick. Startled by the unexpected attack, Freddy dropped Kevin, who managed to roll under the bed. Freddy looked up at Claire with a glare. “Who the hell do you think you are?” He rose to his feet without effort. “You really think you can stop me? Me?” He flexed his glove and advanced on her.

Having regained Freddy’s sole focus back on her, Claire flexed her own glove. “Gee, I have one of those too.” She spun around and sprinted out of the room, daring Freddy to take chase. He took the bait and followed her down the hall. Claire ran down the stairs, managing to avoid the foot sucking places, and before long found herself in the downstairs master bedroom. She took in her surroundings and suddenly had a plan. She got herself into position and waited for a mad man to find her.

The door swung open, hitting the wall with a resounding bang. “Freddy’s home!” He looked around the room, searching for the girl, when suddenly Claire swung around the post at the foot of the four poster bed, kicking Freddy square in the chest, causing him to stumble backwards. He regained his composure easily enough. Freddy laughed. “It will take more than that, little girl.”

“I know,” Claire said from where she had landed in a crouch on the floor. She reached up with the glove and grabbed and twisted, the blades causing her to fully castrate the man, bile oozing out, all over Claire and the floor.

Freddy howled and reeled in pain. He landed on his back on the floor. Claire straddled his midsection, pinning him to the floor. She thrusted her glove into his chest and ripped out his heart. She held the black, beating organ above his head. “I kill monsters, that’s who the hell I am!” She squeezed and crushed the heart between her hands as Freddy faded from existence.

***

Claire awoke with a start next to Kevin in his bed, where he was still sleeping peacefully. “How did I get here?” Before anyone could answer, she looked at Kevin, then to Cas. “How is he? Is he..?”

“He’s fine,” Castiel smiled. “He came out of the coma shortly before you woke up. He’s sleeping now and appears to be having pleasant dreams.”

“Thank God.” Claire breathed a relieved sigh. “But seriously, how did I get here?”

“I brought you here,” Dean answered from her side of the bed. “I told Charlie not to let you do anything stupid, but you did it anyway. She’s now in time out washing the cars in the garage.” He looked down at Claire’s hands, where she was still wearing the glove and holding the remains of Freddy’s dark heart. “Can we burn that now, please?”

“Fuck, yes!” Claire said, removing the glove and placing into the bowl that Dean somehow had ready.

Kevin chose that moment to stretch into wakefulness. He looked over at Claire. “Is it over?”

“Yeah, it’s over,” she said, kissing him on the lips.

“I knew you’d beat him.” He said, kissing her back.

Dean made a motion at Cas. “Um, we should probably leave them alone for a bit.” He then looked briefly to them. “Yo, the ceremonial burning of the bad guy’s stuff commences in five minutes, with or without you.”

Claire waved them off, barely acknowledging them as she continued kissing her now safe boyfriend.

***

Several days later, Claire was just waking up in her room in Sioux Falls. She was taking a much needed break from the bunker and hunting. She needed time with her surrogate mother and sisters. As she stretched, she felt something odd under her pillow. Reaching under her pillow, she pulled out the last thing she expected, a leather glove with razors where the fingers should be. She screamed and tossed the glove across the room. In the quiet that followed, she heard a dark chuckle and a low voice chanting:

Nine, ten, never sleep again!

#spnrareshipcc #Claire Novak/Kevin Tran #otrera-kicks-ass #freddy krueger #aesthetic by l8nit-l0vr #Charlie Bradbury #supernatural #SPN #men of letters bunker

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