Pop
A sudden sound, like the bursting of a bubble that can no longer support its own tension, and with that single snap, reality fragmented and reassembled before their eyes.
That girl, the dead street, and that oppressive atmosphere that seemed like tar filling the lungs... everything vanished into the air without leaving the slightest trace, as if they had never existed.
The sunlight continued bathing the street, but this time the silence, that which felt static, had disappeared completely.
A soft breeze swept through the street, bringing with it the soothing whisper of the leaves and, in the distance, the monotonous hum of a lawnmower.
The clear chirping of birds could be heard and the whistling of a young paperboy who was rounding the corner on his bicycle, throwing the newspaper toward the porch of a house.
Everything had returned to normal, it was so painfully ordinary that the strange scene they had just witnessed seemed like a shared hallucination.
"This..." Airam ran a hand through her hair to compose herself, and although her eyes scrutinized the surroundings with disbelief, her posture recovered immediately, "What the hell just happened? Was that little horror show... a hallucination?"
"Not completely." Lief shook his head. "It could be said that it is an appetizer sent to us by the owner, or perhaps a warning."
He turned on his heels, sweeping his gaze over those apparently harmless houses. However, in his perception, the power had not dissipated.
It had simply crouched down, retreating into the shadows, waiting patiently for the prey to lower its guard.
"The rules of this place are fascinating... The boundary between reality and dream is dangerously blurred. That guy's power seems capable of distorting the fabric of reality with ease, or rather, is capable of dragging us into the 'reality' that he constructs at his whim."
"So what do we do now?"
Airam arched an eyebrow. The previous scene had unsettled her, the nature of that power was something alien to her experience, but seeing Lief analyze it as if it were a minor problem restored her composure.
"Don't be in a hurry." Lief began to walk with a calm step toward the commercial zone that was glimpsed at the end of the street. "Since we are here, we have to get to know the customs first. Besides, this whole business of overlapping realities has worked up my appetite."
"..."
Airam remained rooted to the spot for a second, looking at Lief's relaxed back with an expression of disbelief that quickly transformed into a soft laugh.
In a place where at any moment they could be dragged into a nightmare, this man had the madness to prioritize his stomach.
The two walked along Elm Street, under the shade of the trees that gave the street its name, until they soon spotted the sign of a restaurant.
The name was "Springwood Diner" and through the large glass windows, posters promoting vanilla milkshakes and special burgers could be seen.
As soon as they pushed the double door, the bells above the frame jingled announcing their arrival.
The interior was not crowded, there were barely a few occupied tables.
The air was permeated with the greasy and comforting aroma of french fries, grilled meat, and coffee.
Lief and Airam chose a table by the window. She slid into the seat, crossing her legs and resting her chin on her hand, observing Lief.
"I hope you know you're treating," she said drumming her fingernails on the formica table. "Consider it payment for making me walk through a nightmare."
A middle-aged waitress, with a stained uniform and a nametag that said 'Brenda', approached them, notepad in hand.
"What can I get you, guys?" she asked with a monotone voice, without looking up from her pad, chewing gum listlessly.
"Two Coca-Colas, very cold," Lief replied naturally, glancing at the laminated menu, "and a large portion of french fries to share. For now."
"Right away," the woman murmured, walking away toward the counter.
…
Just as they were waiting for their food, the murmur of the conversation at the table next to them rose in volume, becoming impossible to ignore.
At that table there were four teenagers, two boys and two girls. They looked like the typical group of high school students, except for the palpable tension that surrounded them.
One of them, a girl with brown hair and a pale face, with deep dark circles marked under her eyes, was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
"I swear to you! It is the truth! Why does no one believe me?" The girl's voice broke, oscillating between crying and pure hysteria. "R-Rod didn't kill Tina! He didn't do it! It was that... that thing! That monster that came out of my dream!"
That girl was Nancy Thompson.
And she looked like someone who was losing her sanity.
Across from her sat her boyfriend, Glen, who looked at her with a mixture of pity and embarrassment, trying to keep the situation under control.
"Nancy, please... lower your voice. Everyone is looking at us." Glen sighed, "Listen, I know you are upset. Tina was your best friend and what happened was horrible. But... a monster in your dreams? Nancy, do you hear yourself. It's ridiculous. The police are already clear on it. It was Rod. He was in the room with her, and the guy already has a record."
"It wasn't him!" Nancy hit the table, making the silverware jump and attracting looks of reproach from the other customers. "Rod was also attacked! I spoke to him, Glen! He was terrified. He told me he saw how something invisible tore Tina apart. Something that he couldn't see!"
"Oh yeah? And then why did he run away?" replied Glen, his tone becoming a little harder, frustrated by her insistence. "If he is also an innocent victim, why didn't he stay there and call the police?"
"Because he was afraid! Because he knew that no one would believe him! Exactly like no one believes me now!"
The tears began to run freely down Nancy's cheeks. She hugged herself, trembling, seeming suddenly very small and vulnerable.
"L-Last night... last night I dreamed of him too. That man... he was wearing a red and green striped sweater, and an old hat. His face... his face was covered in burns. And on his right hand he wore a glove with steel blades!"
Her breathing accelerated, reliving the terror.
"He chased me through the boiler room! He cornered me! He tried to kill me! I raised my arm to protect myself just before waking up and... Look!"
She abruptly rolled up the sleeve of her blouse.
And there, on the pale skin of her forearm, were three long and fresh scratches. They were clear, undeniable marks, made by something very sharp.
"..."
Glen and the other two friends froze, looking at the wounds. The skepticism on Glen's face wavered.
"This... Nancy, what is this?" he asked with a dry throat.
"It was him! I'm telling you!" Nancy pulled down her sleeve, her eyes wide open full of absolute terror. "He's real! He can hurt us even in dreams! He killed Tina... and he told me something else. He said he would come for us. The next one is Rod... and then us."
…
"Slurp…"
Lief took a slow sip of his drink, while his face remained like a mask of indifferent boredom, but his mind was fitting pieces together.
Originally, he had been calculating complicated schemes to track and actively search for the entity that governed this place.
But he didn't expect the universe to be so generous.
The main clue hadn't just appeared, but it had delivered itself, wrapped as a gift, at the table next door.
A red and green striped sweater, an old hat, a burned face, and, of course, the unmistakable detail: a glove with steel blades.
All signs pointed to a single name.
The Bastard of Springwood.
The Dream Killer.
Freddy Krueger.
"It seems we've found our way in," Airam's voice floated into his ear.
"Uh-huh" Lief nodded, playing with the straw.
"A perfect bait and even better, a master key straight to his lair."
Airam shifted her gaze toward the table next door, observing the brown-haired girl who was emotionally crumbling in front of her skeptical friends.
"The girl... Nancy. She's at the limit," she commented, with a tone that oscillated between pity and curiosity. "Are we going to help her?"
"Of course," confirmed Lief. "But not now. Think about it for a second, if we get up, walk over to that table and tell them we are hunters with superpowers capable of entering their dreams to kill that monster... what do you think will happen? She will take us for crazy people…"
"Then, what is the plan?"
"We wait," stated Lief.
His eyes slid toward Glen, the rational boyfriend who was trying to look for logical explanations where there were none.
"We let the monster do the dirty work for us. We let the fear ferment a little more. When the terror reaches its boiling point, when logic breaks and all their rational hopes have been shattered... then we will appear. In that moment of total darkness, the light we bring will seem like a miracle and, most importantly... it will be credible."
Lief took a french fry from the plate, dipped it in the ketchup and brought it to his mouth, savoring the crunch.
His current feeling was strangely comforting.
He felt like a privileged spectator at the premiere of a classic horror movie. He had bought the popcorn and the drink, but with a crucial difference: he wasn't limited to screaming at the screen.
He had the ability to cross through the screen at any moment, enter the scene and give the arrogant villain a fatal "spoiler" of the movie's ending.
The discussion at the table next door continued, rising in intensity. The attitude of Glen and the other two friends was visibly changing, absolute disbelief was giving way to a semi-skeptical terror.
Nancy kept crying, desperate, frustrated, trying to make them understand that death stalked them every time they closed their eyes.
________
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