Walking down an empty road, wind rustling the dead winter tree branches, knife in hand, Jeff searched mercilessly for his next victim. This was a dead end road in a rural neighborhood that Jeff had never heard of before and it had very slim pickings of life that survived there naturally. Things had been slow for Jeff. Only three murders in the past month or so. How depressing. As he walked, the sign indicating the vacant street was dangling by one rusty nail on a rotting telephone pole. Elm Street.
In the distance, Jeff was barely able to make out the form of a body. A tall man, by the looks of it. He pondered whether he should kill him or search for a helpless child to fill his needs, they always did the trick. As he drew closer to the embodiment, now larger than before, he heard a faint manly voice proclaiming, "Get off my street, vermin." Looking back, Jeff saw no one, just the empty street behind him with the dim street lights faintly illuminating the frightening scene. Jeff felt right at home. Turning back around to the mysterious figure, Jeff was taken aback by what he saw.
Standing before him was a man, so close in fact, that Jeff could feel and smell his ghastly, putrid breath upon his pale face. He was sporting a tattered, red-and-grey striped sweater and black pants with lacerations up and down the legs. He had a hideously burnt face that resembled corned beef but was much, much thicker. The knuckles on both hands were separated with three jagged steel rods sharpened to a point. It truly was a gruesome sight.
"I said", the man uttered roughly, exposing his remaining yellow teeth while producing an escalated amount of the afore mentioned vile stench, "get off my street. Vermin." Turning his head slightly to the left as he spit a thick black substance aimed toward Jeff's feet.
"And just who do you think you are? I go wherever I please. I am Jeff the Killer and you don't scare me!" Jeff remarked with a chuckle, crossing his arms and cocking his head, keeping a tight grip on his knife as it slid smoothly against his body.
The man laughed loudly and hoarsely. "I am a living legend boy! Do you not see all of the abandoned houses? That's my doing!" The man indicated first to the surrounding houses, then to himself. "I am Freddy Krueger and I won't tell you again. Get. Off. My. Street." inching closer with every word.
"And what if I don't want to, Fred? What about that?" Jeff challenged. "Then suffer the consequences." Freddy said, making a stabbing move, swift as the wind, towards Jeff's stomach. Jeff countered the attack by blocking the sharpened steel blades with his trusty knife.
"T, t, t. You shouldn't have done that Freddy. Now I'll have to kill you. And I though we could have been friends." Jeff teased, his words paired with mock grief, as he cocked his arm for a blow to Freddy's abdomen. Fred caught Jeff's arm mid-swing and lunged for his throat.
The battle was a series of lunging, rearing, jumping, stabbing, grunting and gleaming. As the competitors slowed their pace after hours of raging war between them, Freddy was covered in stab wounds and gashes while Jeff was sliced in areas that were not visible to the naked eye unlike the blood seeping from them. As quickly as the fight ceased, it started again. Jeff retreated to one of the many abandoned houses and took refuge there.
"I can't be beaten. Have I finally found my match?" He pondered aloud. "Nope, but you certainly have found your worst nightmare!" a voice above him proclaimed. As Freddy fell into view, Jeff stood his ground, knife ready.
"Listen kid," Freddy started, stalking towards Jeff, arms crossed, "you're good, for your age anyway. What do you say to a partnership? I get the teens, you get the kids and we split the adults 50/50? I teach you my tricks, you teach me yours." As he neared Jeff, he stuck his hand out and waited for Jeff to shake it.
"Sounds great to me, at least until I leave this God forsaken town." Jeff chuckled, as they shook hands, one murderer to another.
