Some buildings don't burn. They remember.

The trio stood outside the twisted iron gates of St. Agnes Orphanage, which loomed like a decaying sentinel in the fog-soaked woods at the edge of Springwood. The place looked half-consumed by fire and half-consumed by time—stone blackened, spires cracked, and windows like empty eyes staring into the void.

"We sure this is the place?" Riley whispered, shining his flashlight down the overgrown path.

Sarah nodded. "Willow marked this spot as a 'veil breach.' Said it was where Freddy was 'first unmade.' Whatever that means."

Alex stepped forward, heart pounding. He could feel it.

The building was alive with echoes. The air buzzed with static, a high-pitched hum only they could hear.

He pushed open the gate. It screamed.

They entered.

Inside, time was warped.

Peeling wallpaper revealed words beneath: "He sees you."

Charred pews sat in twisted rows. The pulpit sagged. Dust floated in the air like disturbed spirits. And far ahead, in the main chapel, a faint red glow flickered.

"What is that?" Riley asked.

As they approached, the glow grew stronger.

At the center of the altar stood an old carousel, blackened by fire. Its horses were warped into skeletal things, their mouths open in silent screams. The carousel spun slowly, though no wind stirred.

Each turn played a hollow music box tune.

Ding... ding... ding...

Sarah stepped closer, hypnotized.

Then the air turned cold.

And a voice whispered—

"Welcome home."

SCREEEEECH!

The carousel stopped instantly.

All three froze.

Something moved in the darkness—shadows slithering like snakes along the walls. And then...

BANG!

A door burst open on the far side of the chapel, and from it stumbled—

A girl. Screaming.

Eyes wide. Mouth foaming.

Behind her: claw marks.

Deep and fresh.

Sarah caught her before she collapsed.

"Carly?" Alex gasped.

It was Carly Masters—the same woman they'd seen sedated in the halfway house.

Except now her skin was cracked like porcelain, veins pulsing black.

Her lips trembled. "He... he followed me... through the crack in the veil... I—I shouldn't have sung..."

"Sung what?" Sarah asked.

Carly turned her gaze upward, eyes glassy.

And she began:

"One, two—"

SLASH!

Her body lifted into the air—invisible claws tearing through her midsection—and was hurled back across the pews, snapping her neck against a stone pillar with a sickening crunch.

She slumped. Silent.

Dead.

Riley screamed.

Alex yanked Sarah behind him as laughter filled the chapel—warped and echoing off every surface like a funhouse of evil.

"You thought you'd bury me," the voice said, "but I'm in every brick. Every bone. Every breath."

Freddy's voice.

Every light in the chapel blew out at once.

The Dream Zone hit them like a wave.

They were pulled through.

The world around them melted—walls stretching like wax, floors rippling, gravity shifting.

Suddenly, the chapel wasn't a ruin anymore.

It was alive.

Lit. Full of chanting children in gray uniforms. Choir robes. Faces blank. Eyes glowing red.

On the stage, conducting them, stood Freddy Krueger.

But not the Freddy they remembered.

This Freddy was... more.

Taller. His burnt flesh half-covered by black bishop robes. A crown of barbed wire around his head. Claws longer. Dripping.

He turned.

"Class is in session."

RUN.

Alex grabbed Riley and Sarah and bolted down the shifting hallway, ducking between walls that moved like breathing lungs. The church twisted itself, trying to trap them inside a living maze.

Behind them: laughter and screams.

Doors slammed.

Lights flickered.

And then—BOOM!

A body fell from the ceiling, hanging by piano wire.

Another former choir kid.

Eyes gouged. Mouth stitched shut.

On his chest: Freddy's rhyme carved deep.

They reached the orphanage dormitories.

Rows of bunk beds. Empty teddy bears. Rusted IVs where pillows should be.

And in the center of the room:

A mirror.

Cracked. But glowing.

Alex stepped forward.

And saw himself.

But twisted.

Not burnt—dream-drowned. Pale, with glowing eyes, a skeletal smile, and Freddy's glove on his own hand.

It spoke.

"You're next, Alex."

SMASH!

The mirror exploded outward, shards flying like bullets. Riley pulled Alex back just in time as Sarah opened a door—

Revealing a spiral staircase descending into blackness.

"That's the Veil Gate," Sarah whispered. "That's what Willow meant. That's where he's pulling his power."

"Then that's where we kill him," Alex said.

They descended.

Each step felt like miles. Voices echoed below.

Crying. Laughing. Chanting.

At the bottom was a circular chamber—an inverted chapel.

Upside-down crucifixes.

Black candles.

And at the center: a pit of liquid shadow.

The Veil.

It churned like oil, shifting with faces—some familiar. Some screaming.

Sarah gasped. "I see... I see my dad..."

Riley froze. "That's my sister—she died when I was six—how is she in there?"

Alex stared.

And saw himself.

As a child.

In a bed.

Freddy at his side.

Reading.

"One... two..."

"It's not real!" Alex shouted, shaking them out of it. "It's not a vision—it's a trap."

Freddy emerged from the pit, rising like the devil from hell.

"That's right, Alex."

"You want to wake up?"

"Then give me your name."

Sarah whispered, terrified, "Don't say it. Don't—"

Too late.

Freddy flicked his fingers.

The air ripped open, and Alex was yanked into the Veil.

Gone.

Sarah screamed.

Riley ran forward—but the pit had already sealed, leaving only a ripple.

Silence.

Alex landed hard.

But not on ground.

He was in a version of his childhood bedroom—but wrong.

Walls of flesh.

Bed of bones.

His old teddy bear twitching.

And on the wall, Freddy carved in blood:

"This is your Dream Core, boy. And I live here now."

Back in the chapel below, Sarah grabbed Willow's sigil book from her backpack and flipped through the pages with trembling fingers.

"There's a binding spell," she muttered. "But it needs... a soul link. A conduit inside."

Riley's eyes widened.

"Alex."

"If he can fight him in the Core," Sarah said, "we can trap Freddy here."

"But what if Alex doesn't win?"

She didn't answer.

Because they both knew:

He wouldn't.

Not alone.

In the Dream Core, Freddy towered above Alex.

His laugh shook the floor.

"You thought you were the Chosen One? Nah, kid. You were just the door."

He lunged.

Alex dodged.

But the claws grazed him, and suddenly—

He was in a school hallway.

His old locker.

His old backpack.

The screams of his mother dying played over the intercom.

"Remember this?" Freddy sneered, dragging his claws across a chalkboard that bled. "You locked me out. Buried me in your trauma."

He grabbed Alex by the throat.

"But trauma always finds its way back."

BOOM.

A shockwave tore through the dreamscape.

And a voice screamed from above:

"ALEX! FIGHT HIM!"

Sarah's voice.

Alex gasped for air.

Freddy lifted his glove for the killing blow—

And Alex grabbed the claws.

Blood poured from his hands.

But he held on.

"I'm done being afraid of you."

Freddy grinned. "Then die."

FLASH!

The sigil ignited in the chapel above.

Riley chanted the words.

Sarah poured a circle of salt and blood around the pit.

And Freddy SCREAMED in rage as his connection to the Dream Core began to unravel.

Alex stood, surrounded by the flaming version of his childhood.

"You're a story, Freddy. A ghost in a rhyme."

"And I'm the ENDING."

Back in the chapel:

The veil pit exploded.

Alex shot out of it, his body smoking, his eyes glowing faintly gold.

Freddy's scream echoed as his form was sucked back into the pit, bound by the sigils, the flames, and the strength of Alex's will.

And then—BOOM.

Silence.

Darkness.

Stillness.

When Alex awoke, it was morning.

The sun pierced the windows of St. Agnes for the first time in decades.

Riley was alive. Sarah, too.

No carousel.

No corpses.

Just dust.

And peace.

For now.

But as they walked out of the chapel, Alex paused.

The wind whispered in his ear.

"Nine, ten..."

He turned.

But no one was there.

Only an old, forgotten swing set.

And a child's voice.

"...he lives again."

TO BE CONTINUED...