With the overwhelming gratitude of the town's parents at having the child murderer taken out, there was little fuss about my sentence. In fact, several, including a few whose children had actually been killed, rushed to my defense without any prompting. I hadn't bothered with getting a lawyer or denying having brutally mauled Krueger to death because, like I said, I didn't give a shit about what happened anymore. Nonetheless, a lawyer was sent to me, care of the parents, and she pleaded my case saying that there was no telling what other tragedies would have unfolded had I not ensured that the murderer was down and out.

In addition, she brought many of the parents as well as other family members and friends of the deceased who told their stories and argued that I was merely enacting justice and keeping the rest of the people safe. At that point in the case, the opposing side would have brought into question my psychiatric and criminal records to say I wasn't acting out of nobility, but merely out of my own frustration and flawed personality. Fortunately for me, I guess, there was no opposition. It seemed that the whole town was on my side...including Maggie.

I had spent a total of five weeks in jail before I was finally set free. I figured that Mark's apartment would have been reclaimed by the landlord at that point so I was surprised to be let out to find that Maggie had paid the previous month's rent for Mark and told the landlord that I'd likely be happy to take it over once I was out. She enlightened him to the events and he seemed willing to work with transferring the lease to me as he, too, claimed I was a hero. I only found this out because Maggie had been calling the police headquarters every day to know when I was being freed. Then, she met me outside and explained the situation to me.

"Since he didn't have a will and there's no contactable family, his possessions fell to the property owner," Maggie told me, "But I managed to get him to let you keep the stuff to figure out what to do with it yourself."

"How'd you do that?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the ground as we walked, "These kinds of people like to take anything they can get their hands on and legally, everything in that apartment is theirs now."

"Yeah, well, they didn't know he didn't have a will," Maggie shrugged.

I cut my eyes over to her, "You forged a will for him?"

"No, I just said I was his legal representation and told them that he meant for everything to fall to you when..." her steady voice trailed off then, refusing to finish, probably for not wanting to upset me.

"Thanks," I muttered.

When we got to her car, we loaded in and she gave me a ride back into town. Outside of the apartment complex, she handed me the keys and asked if I wanted her to go in with me. Of course, I told her no. She didn't push any further. She only told me to take care and reminded me that her number was saved in Mark's phone should I want to call her for anything. I didn't say anything and just huffed out of the vehicle, almost slamming the door shut behind me. I made it up the stairs and let myself into Mark's apartment.

As the door swung shut behind me, I just stood in the living room and stared. It felt so empty...I felt so empty. I had had a lot of struggles and my life had never been consistent. At one point I'd have a job and home and the next I'd be homeless; I'd have friends, then they'd all be gone. But during it all...I had never felt so...depressed. I was always the chipper guy...the one that kept a positive attitude, truly stayed positive not just acted like I was happy when I wasn't.

I traipsed around the apartment, scenes of my time spent with Mark flashing across my vision as I journeyed through. Looking at the couch, I remembered watching TV together. Then my eyes found the stain on the carpet from him trying to kill himself that I had helped him scrub with bleach until the color was completely gone, making it obvious that some kind of mess had been made there though only we would know what. Turning then to the kitchen, I once more appreciated him always giving me his food. I ended up making my way to the bedroom, caught momentarily on the spot where I had pummeled Freddy until I was able to tear my sight away and crawl back onto the bed.

As I lay there, my hand grazed the sheets where his body had been. There were a few dried spots of blood that had leaked off the side of his stomach and had soaked in there. I halted when I felt them, tears instantly springing into my eyes. What the fuck was wrong with me? I threw my head into the pillow, screaming until my lungs and my throat were sore and finally, falling asleep amidst painful sobs.

The following days consisted of me doing absolutely nothing with any of Mark's belongings while contacting his boss only to be given the job he had left behind. I then contacted the police station, the court house, and the crematorium only to be told there was nothing I could do to see Mark one last time before he was cremated and his remains were discarded. I ended up going off on everyone over the phone, each one of them hanging up on me while I shouted at them. I was angry enough that I considered storming up to said places and causing a scene, but instead I ended up falling into numbness and then passing out to sleep.

After that, I worked Mark's regular nine to five for almost three months. In and out, the same routine of getting up, throwing on deodorant and my uniform, heading to work, coming home, and staring at the TV until I fell asleep...and repeat. I had cried a lot the first week or two yet gradually the tears came less and less and I began feeling nothing at all. The night that finally broke this cycle...was the night I happened across a box-cutter in the apartment.

I picked it up, turning it over and over in my hand and staring at the extended blade that seemed to have old blood on it. I had found it under the couch like it had been knocked under accidentally when somebody walked through. In that moment, I truly understood the immense despair that had plagued my poor lover's mind for who knows how long...and I cried again for the first time in weeks.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" I whispered to the blade.

Suddenly, I heard a sound...a vague voice hovering about around me. My eyes shot open and I lifted my head, remembering everything that I had learned about the afterlife...about the spiritual. Ghosts, demons, Mark's spiritual gifts...astral travel. There hadto be a way for me to reach him again! Vision fell onto the blade in my hand. I would kill for that man in an instant, but...I needed to contact him...to know where he was before I made any drastic actions.

I clicked the razors back into their holder and slipped the box-cutter into my pocket, simultaneously raising from the couch and heading to the kitchen table where the computer still was. Sitting down in the chair there, I put my hand on the mouse and clicked over to Google before typing into its search box. How to contact the dead.

I was met with several articles about tarot cards, channeling, how to tell if you were being haunted. There were even ads claiming to give you the most accurate psychic reading out there. I read through the first three pages of sites and found nothing helpful in contacting a specific spirit myself. Mostly it was all to do with how to determine your future or know if a spirit was trying to contact you or if someone was being possessed. Then of course, there were the ever looming links trying to get you to buy spiritual readings and other services.

Where were those goddamn ghosts when you needed them? As if in answer to my mental question, I saw figures standing in the distance over the top of the computer screen. I blinked rapidly, moving out of the light to get my eyes to re-focus to see who was there. It was Damian and the two other ghost boys.

"So now you're trying to talk to ghosts?" Emma's scoff sounded behind me.

I twisted around to see her, "I want to talk to Mark," I growled. "How do I-"

"I'll tell you the same thing I told him," she raised an eyebrow, "Everyone's afterlife is different. I can't tell you where he is. That's like me asking you to locate some random human in the world. It's nearly impossible."

"Nearly," I repeated. "Meaning it's possible."

The gothic teen sighed, "Well, I can't help you. Let me put it that way."

"Why are you here?" I asked.

"Thought you might reconsider helping us," she shrugged.

"What?" my rage instantly returned, "What am I desperate and hopeless enough now for you to to try manipulate and use like you did with Mark? Huh?!"

Damian was upon me then, taking a spot between the two of us as I shouted at the girl. He lifted his baseball bat and pushed it against my chest, nudging me to back off.

"Get the fuck out of here, all of you!" I ordered.

"Or what?" Damian grinned, "You'll kill us?"

My breathing grew ragged as I pushed back against his weapon, "I'm not going to help you! I never will so quit wasting your time! You're just as pathetic and cruel as Fred Krueger!"

That comparison certainly set them off. They both stepped back from me as Damian lifted his bat to swing in my direction. However, I threw my hand up and gripped the wood. This kid's strength wasn't anything compared to the demon's so I had no trouble in forcing it against him instead, although it did take both hands. But as I fought him off, I felt two sets of hands grabbing onto my legs and waist. I turned around, met with the sight of the two younger boys behind me.

Instantly, I landed a punch smack dab in the center of Todd's face, causing him to release me before I put my attention on Chris. Spinning in a half-circle that took him with me, I clutched onto his hair and pulled until he cursed at me.

"Hey, knock it off," Emma said, allowing me to look back in time to see Damian's bat was once more aimed at me.

This time I wasn't able to dodge the blow, the force from which was enough to send my head spinning though I didn't collapse. Instead I simply faltered backward and began shouting again, "Alright, you little shits! Is this what you want? You want to fight me? Because that's all you're going to get!"

The teen in the trench coat was grinning as he stepped toward me once more, but he was met with Emma casually placing a hand on his shoulder, "Come on. We'll find what we're looking for somewhere else," she whispered to him yet her glare was on me.

The entire group came together before putting their backs on me and walking away...disappearing within their first few steps of doing so. I stared after them, kind of wishing they had stayed to fight me so I could get some of my frustration out. Nonetheless, I felt another wave of lightheadedness from the blow to my head so I decided to simply sit back down and keep on with my research. However, when I sat, something new occurred to me.

I had contemplated attempting astral travel only to be meant with the realization that I had no idea where to go searching for him. From what he had told me, he didn't come into contact with any other creatures that could see him until he traveled to Hell where he'd almost been stuck. Unlike me, he also had a guide who had told him where the person he sought was. I had nothing. That's why I had started my search by looking into contacting spirits, especially specific ones...but that had come up dry too. The new thought was this: I knew Emma and her gang would be of no help and they certainly couldn't be trusted...so what if...I found someone else like them who could help me?

I put my hands on the keyboard and began typing. How to summon a demon.