Wes Craven's

 NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET

 

1A. INT. (MONTAGE). 1A.

NIGHTMARE MUSIC THEME begins as we FADE UP on a SERIES OF SHOTS,

all CLOSE and teasing.

-- A man's FEET, in shabby work shoes, stalking

through a junk bin in a dark, fire-lit, ash-

dusted place. A huge BOILER ROOM is what it

is, although we only glimpse it piecemeal.

Then we SEE a MAN'S HAND, dirty and nail-bitten,

reach INTO FRAME and pick up a piece of METAL.

-- ANOTHER ANGLE as the HAND grabs a grimey

WORKGLOVE and slashes at it with a straight

razor, until its fingertips are off.

-- CLOSE ON SAME HANDS dumping four fishing knives

out of a filthy bag. Their blades are thin,

curved, gleaming sharp.

-- MORE ANGLES, EVEN CLOSER. We can HEAR the MAN's

wheezing BREATHING, but we still haven't seen

his face. We never will. We just SEE more metal

being assembled with crude tools, into some sort

of linkage -- a splayed, spidery sort of apparatus,

against a background light of FIRE, and a deep

rushing of STEAM and HEAVY, DARK ENERGY.

-- And then we see this linkage attached to the glove.

-- Then the BLADES attached to all of it.

-- Then the MAN'S HAND slips into this glove-like

apparatus, filling it out and transforming

it into an awesome, deadly claw-hand with

four razor/talons gleaming at its blackened

fingertips. Suddenly the HAND arches and STRIKES

FORWARD, SLASHING THROUGH a DARK CANVAS, tearing

it to shreds.

 

1. EXT. LOS ANGELES. NIGHT. (2nd Unit) 1.

A PULSATION OF LIGHT AND SHADOW. MUSIC DROPS AWAY to a hushed

RUSHING OF WIND and DISTANT SIRENS. CAMERA RACKS INTO FOCUS on a

HIGH PANORAMA of the San Fernando Valley, its night sky lit from

within by a strange GREENISH LIGHT. TITLES BEGIN.

CAMERA TILTS DOWN and ZOOMS SWIFTLY into the valley's web of

light.

CUT TO:

 

2. INT. CONCRETE PASSAGEWAY. 2.

TITLES CONTINUE as TINA GRAY, a strong girl of fifteen in a thin

night shift, moves towards us down a dark concrete corridor. Her

steps quicken as TITLES appear in the portion of frame she leaves

free.

A subliminal COLLAGE of SOUND threads in and out of the MUSIC.

Distant insane LAUGHTER. Slamming iron DOORS. A bleating animal

CRY. A LAMB, white and blank-faced, skitters across her path and

on into the dark. No reason why it's there.

Then another SOUND, much nearer -- the slithering SCRAPE of

something like fingernails across slate. It sets our teeth on

edge, twists the MUSIC, and sends TINA running.

 

3. INT. BOILER ROOM. 3.

Suddenly TINA's a tiny figure running among huge boilers steam

pipes and catwalks -- a shadowed forest of iron and stone. She

stops, listening intently as the SOUND of tiny hooves suddenly

turns into the rattle of DISTANT RAIN.

Then she hears RIPPING FABRIC.

Someone is shouldering behind a ragged screen of dirty canvas,

approaching TINA.

CLOSER ON THE CANVAS. The long curved fingerblades suddenly

punch through, flashing in the firelight, and begin ripping

through the thick fabric, as easily as scalpels through flesh.

They make a hideous, extended RIPPING SOUND.

TINA rushes away, hands over her ears.

ANOTHER ANGLE -- as the blinded girl stumbles backwards. Then

the canvas flaps free. The blades are gone. The TITLES END, and

everything goes silent.

CAMERA CIRCLES until TINA's looking right into our eyes. The

light from a nearby boiler pours through her thin night dress,

leaving her naked and vulnerable. Then a deep, ragged VOICE

whispers at her as CAMERA CLOSES IN ON HER FACE.

VOICE (O.S.)

One two, Freddie's coming for

you...

TINA opens her mouth to scream but only a dry, yellow dust pours

out. And at that precise moment a huge shadowy MAN with a grimey

red and yellow sweater and a weird hat pulled over his scarred

face lunges at her. And it's his fingers that are tipped with

the long blades of steel, glinting in the boney light and giving

the hulk the look of an otherworldly predator.

TINA dodges away, her legs suddenly elephantine and slow. The

MAN seizes the trailing hem of her nightgown and hauls her back.

The MUSIC shrieks as TINA manages to tear free -- the MAN lurches

after her with a hoarse SHOUT as we --

SMASH CUT TO:

 

4. INT. TINA'S BEDROOM. NIGHT. 4.

TINA convulses in bed with a SCREAM, looking around wildly.

Someone is KNOCKING on her door.

WOMAN'S VOICE (O.S.)

You okay, Tina?

TINA'S MOTHER sticks her head in with a worried look. TINA sits

up and blows out a breath, groggy.

TINA

Just a dream, Ma...

(more to herself)

Damn dream, is all...

The woman, once attractive, ventures a step into the room. A MAN

hovers BACKGROUND. TINA'S mother waves him away without looking,

shoving a strand of bleached hair from her eyes. She appraises

her daughter.

TINA'S MOTHER

Some dream, judging from that.

She nods at TINA's nightshift.

TINA looks down at her nightgown, only now aware of the chill

penetrating it from the room. There are four long slashes up its

middle, cleanly cut as if by scalpels.

MAN (OS)

(distant, annoyed)

You coming back to the sack or

what?

TINA'S MOTHER

Hold your horses.

(lower, to Tina as she

stands to leave)

You gotta cut your nails or stop

that kind of dreaming, Tina. One

or the other.

The woman shuts the door behind her. TINA looks back to her

nightgown.

TINA

(low)

Oh, shit.

She suddenly snatches up the cross that hangs over her head, her

face white as her sheet.

FADE TO BLACK

BURN ON

5. THE FIRST DAY 5.

CHILDREN (OS)

(singing)

One two, Freddie's coming for you...

Three four better lock your door

Five six grab your crucifix...

 

6. EXT. HIGH SCHOOL. DAY. 6.

FADE UP ON SHOT OF this large highschool and its crowds of

STUDENTS. FOREGROUND, TINA climbs out of a cherry-red 1959

Cadillac convertible with two other students, best friend NANCY

WILSON, and Nancy's boyfriend and owner of the car, GLEN LANTZ.

FOREGROUND several GRADESCHOOLERS are playing jump-rope, and the

old ditty they sing continues unbroken from TINA's bedroom.

ROPE JUMPERS

Seven eight, gonna stay up late!

Nine ten -- never sleep again!

7. MOVING ANGLE FAVORING NANCY. She's a pretty girl in a letter 7.

sweater, with an easy, athletic stride and the look of a natural

leader. GLEN, holding her hand, wears one of the school's

football jerseys; a good-natured, bright kid. Tina's in

mid-conversation.

TINA

(referring to kids' song)

That's what it reminded me of --

that old jump rope song.

(shudders)

Worst nightmare I ever had.

You wouldn't believe it.

Nancy nods.

NANCY

Matter of fact I had a bad dream

last night myself...

TINA turns to NANCY, but before either can say more, ROD LANE, a

lean, Richard Gere sort in black leather and New Wave studs joins

up with them and interupts.

ROD

(to Tina)

Had a hardon this morning when

I woke up, Tina. Had your name

written all over it.

Tina cracks her gum with a look of withering indifference.

TINA

There's four letters in my name,

Rod. How could there be room

on your joint for four letters?

The guy's stopped in his tracks.

ROD

Hey, up yours with a twirling lawn

mower!

He cuts off across the lawn.

TINA

Rod says the sweetest things.

NANCY

He's nuts about you.

TINA

Yeah, nuts.

TINA makes a face and rakes her fingernails across a tree as she

passes.

TINA (CONTD)

(yawns)

Anyway, I'm too tired to worry

about the creep. Couldn't get

back to sleep at all.

(beat)

So what you dream?

NANCY

Forget it, the point is, every-

body has nightmares once in a while.

No biggy.

GLEN

Next time you have one, just

tell yourself that's just all

it is, right while you're having

it, y'know? That's the trick.

Once you do that, you wake right

up. At least it works for me.

TINA looks at GLEN sharply. He kisses NANCY and darts off for

class.

TINA

Hey! You have a nightmare too?

But GLEN's gone.

TINA (CONTD)

Maybe we're gonna have the Big

Earthquake. They say things get

weird just before that...

BELLS ARE RINGING, and STUDENTS crowding; TINA and NANCY are

drawn into the crush.

FADE TO BLACK

 

8. EXT. A VALLEY STREET. NIGHT. 8.

ANGLE ON A MODEST HOME; no car, just a couple of BIKES in the

drive. Every light in the house and yard is turned on. We HEAR

the rock group MADNESS played at a 'No adults home' volume.

 

9. INT. TINA'S LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 9.

ON GLEN, dialing. Nancy and TINA are watching, giggling.

TINA

I can't believe his mother let him

come over here.

NANCY

Right. Well, she didn't, exactly...

GLEN shoves a cassette into TINA's Ghetto Blaster.

GLEN

(to TINA)

See, I got this cousin who lives

near the airport, that it's okay

for me to stay with, right? So I

found this sound effects tape at

Licorice Pizza, and...

The phone is answered. GLEN jerks the tone arm off the record

with a SCRUUPT!!

GLEN (CONTD)

Hello, Mom?

(pushes the 'play' button)

Yeah, out here at Barry's.

A JET PLANE begins to make itself heard on the tape. GLEN moves

the machine closer to the phone. It's a big plane -- sounds like

a 747 coming in for a landing.

GLEN (CONT)

Huh? Yeah, noisy as usual. Glad

we don't live here -- huh? Yeah,

Aunt Eunice says hello.

The Jet is SCREAMING IN now, full flaps and howling like a

monstrous banshee. NANCY and TINA dissolve into muffled

giggles.

GLEN (CONT)

(shouting over the din)

Right, right -- I'll call you in the

morning! Right! Huh? Yeah, sure,

I, huh?...

Suddenly the tape goes silent. GLEN blanches. Next moment

another ENGINE is heard, but this one is a FORD LOTUS screaming

by at 180 mph.

GLEN (CONT)

(reacting to his mother's

reaction)

Uh... some kid's drag racing

outside, I think...

The sound effect changes abruptly to a SPEEDING SEDAN -- and the

ages-old SCREECH of BRAKES, last-second SCREAM and horrible

COLLISION. NANCY gamely tries to find the right button to turn

it off, but misses. There's a loud SCREEK of fast-forward mayhem

-- Glen improvises desperately.

GLEN (CONT)

Listen, Mom, I got to go -- I

think there's been an accident out

front -- I --

NANCY jumps back from the cassette player -- WORLD WAR II bursts

out at top volume -- MACHINE GUNS, HAND GRENADES, DIVING BEARCATS

and SHOUTS of charging Huns. GLEN makes a last-ditch dive and

flings the cassette out of the machine.

Blessed silence at last.

GLEN (CONT)

Right. I'll call the police. No,

just some neighbors having a fight,

I guess. I'm fine, I'm fine!

Call you in the morning!

He hangs up and sags back.

NANCY

Worked like a charm.

GLEN

Jesus.

TINA shoves another cassette in, and MICHAEL JACKSON'S 'THRILLER'

blasts from the STEREO. The kids relax, the CAMERA GLIDES PAST

THEM TO THE WINDOW.

The WIND is moving the bare TREE BRANCH outside. CAMERA PANS

BACK to the comfortably threadbare room, uneasy. We see NANCY

poking at a flame in the hearth as TINA comes FOREGROUND to draw

the drapes.

NANCY

Nice to have a fire.

TINA

Really. Turn 'er up a little.

NANCY turns a nearby valve handle, and the gas fire climbs

brightly over its artificial log. TINA joins her, heartened.

NANCY

Maybe we should call Rod, have him

come over too. He might get jealous.

TINA

Rod and I are done. He's too much

of a maniac.

GLEN

He should join the Marines, they

could make something out of him.

Like a hand grenade.

TINA laughs despite herself. NANCY brightens.

NANCY

See? You've forgotten the bad

dream. Didn't I tell you?

TINA shakes her head, wishing she had forgotten.

TINA

All day long I been seeing that

guy's weird face, and hearing

those fingernails...

NANCY looks up with a flinch.

NANCY

Fingernails?

(blinks, laughing)

That's amazing, you saying that.

It made me remember the dream I

had last night.

TINA looks up.

TINA

What you dream?

NANCY

I dreamed about this guy in a

dirty red and yellow sweater;

I dream in color, y'know; he

walked into the room I was in,

right, right through the wall,

like it was smoke or something,

and just stared at me. Sort of

...obscenely. Then he walked

out through the wall on the

other side. Like he'd just

come to check me out...

The story has left the room deathly quiet. Especially TINA seems

effected.

TINA

(quietly)

So what about the fingernails?

NANCY remembers, imitating the frightful coincidence.

NANCY

He scraped his fingernails

along things -- actually, they

were more like fingerknives or

something, like he'd made them

himself? Anyway, they made

this horrible nose --

(imitates)

sssssccrrrtttt....

TINA pales.

TINA

Nancy. You dreamed about the

same creep I did, Nancy...

The girls stare at each other.

GLEN

That's impossible.

They look at him. He looks away, as if suddenly listening.

TINA

What?

GLEN

Nothing.

TINA

There's somebody out there,

isn't there...

NANCY

I didn't hear anything...

Then there's an unmistakeable SOUND. A distinct SCRAPING against

the house, just outside the window. Something multiple, thin and

sharp. Something like metal fingernails. NANCY's mouth opens a

fraction of an inch.

 

10. EXT. FRONT OF HOUSE. NIGHT. 10.

CLOSE ON FRONT DOOR as a BOLT UNLOCKS, a KEY TURNS, a CHAIN is

REMOVED. At last the door swings open and GLEN swaggers out.

GLEN

I'm gonna punch out your ugly

lights, whoever you are.

No answer but a slight RUSTLE in the bushes. GLEN does a 180 and

walks right back inside. The girls prod him right back out,

giddy with giggling fear.

GLEN

It's just a stupid cat.

NANCY

Then bring us back its tail

and whiskers.

The girls push him farther. GLEN edges towards the shadows.

Then the SCRITCHING again. GLEN stops; TINA edges back into the

house.

TINA

Anyway, I don't have a cat...

ANGLE INTO THE SHADOWS. Turned from the girls, GLEN sobers,

listening. IN HIS POV we see the street. Silent houses.

Motionless trees on empty lawns.

GLEN

Kitty-kitty? Chow chow chow?

Not a living, or dead, soul. GLEN turns back to the girls with a

shrug. Instantly, a large FIGURE pounces and throws him to the

ground with a shout.

The girls SCREAM in panic and run for the house.

11. REVERSE -- ROD leaps up and shouts like a sportscaster -- 11.

ROD

And it's number thirty-six, Rod

Lane, bringing Lantz down just

three yards from the goal with a

brilliant tackle! And the fans

go wild!

ROD dances into the light, flashing a wild gypsy's grin at TINA.

The girl's relieved and frightened at the same time.

TINA

What the hell you doing here?

ROD

Came to make up, no big deal.

Your ma home?

TINA

Of course. What's that?

ROD takes the spindly hand rake he's found and scraps the house's

wall. It makes a terrible SCRIIITCHING SOUND. He grins and

tosses it aside.

ROD

Intense, huh?

(sizes up the three)

So what's happening, an orgy or

something?

GLEN

Maybe a funeral, you dickhead.

ROD wheels, a knife suddenly in his hand, as if ready to take

Glen's throat out. NANCY breaks between --

NANCY

-- Just a sleep-over date, Rod.

Just Tina and me. Glen was just

leaving.

ROD eyes GLEN, laughs and flips the knife closed and away,

putting his arm around TINA's shoulder and laughing as if it's

all a great joke.

ROD

You see his face?

(lower)

Your ma ain't home, is she?

(to Nancy & Glen)

Me and Tina got stuff to discuss.

He pulls TINA inside without further ceremony.

NANCY

Rod...

But ROD's already got himself and TINA halfway through the living

room, heading into the darker part of the house.

ROD

We got her mother's bed.

You two got the rest.

ANGLE BACK ON GLEN AND NANCY.

NANCY

We should get her out of here...

TINA darts to the front door, her blouse half out.

TINA

Hey -- you guys're hanging around --

right?

(fake laughing/whine)

Don't leave me alone with this

lunatic -- Pleeeeze, NANCY!

She disappears. GLEN looks at NANCY. Too innocent.

GLEN

So we'll guard her together.

Through the night.

(moving closer)

In each others' arms like

we always said.

NANCY

Glen. Not now. I mean,

we're here for Tina now,

not for ourselves.

She kisses him lightly, then pushes him back.

GLEN

(frustrated)

Why's she so bothered by a

stupid nightmare, anyway?

NANCY

Because he was scary, that's

why.

GLEN

Who was scary?

NANCY turns and looks at him.

NANCY

Don't you think it's weird, her

and me dreaming about the same

guy?

(GLEN looks away;

NANCY stares closer)

You didn't have a bad dream

last night, did you?

GLEN gives her a funny look.

GLEN

Me? I don't dream.

He takes her inside. Over the SOUNDS of locks falling shut we

FADE TO BLACK

 

13. INT. TINA'S LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 13.

FADE UP ON an old 50's CLOCK, one of those set into the black

plaster body of a stalking panther. It's just past 2 AM.

PAN the cold hearth and darkened living room to REVEAL GLEN on

the couch, cacooned in sheets. He's listening miserably to the

SOUNDS OF LOVEMAKING coming from the next room. TINA peaks, ROD

howls. Then silence.

GLEN

Morality sucks.

CUT TO:

 

14. INT. TINA'S MOTHER'S BEDROOM. NIGHT. 14.

This is a slightly larger room than TINA's. Adult. Female.

Spare in its appointments. The streetlight throws the narrow bed

into broken shadow and light. TINA AND ROD lie in each other's

arms in the middle of the big bed. Satiated.

TINA

I knew there was sometihng

about you I liked...

ROD yawns into the pillows, happy.

ROD

You feel better now, right?

TINA

Jungle man fix Jane.

ROD

No more fights?

TINA

No more fights.

ROD

(sleepily)

Good. No more nightmares for

either of us then.

He pulls the covers over his head. He's almost out already.

TINA

(beat)

When did you have a nightmare?

ROD

(under the blankets)

Guys can have nightmares too,

y'know. You ain't got a corner

on the fucking market or something.

He rolls over, practically snoring, and pulls another cover over

his head. A dirty red and yellow cover.

TINA

(sleepily)

Where'd you get this snotty old

thing?

SNORES from ROD. TINA yawns, turns off the light and snuggles

against ROD, pulling the cover gingerly over herself, too.

 

15. INT. TINA'S BEDROOM. NIGHT 15.

CAMERA MOVES across the room of the original nightmare to find

NANCY alone in TINA's bed, staring at the slanting ceiling above

the bed. Thinking. We can just hear her HEART beating. She

sighs and turns on her side.

Immediately the wall above her head turns a faint reddish hue,

with a broad yellow smear across its center. All unseen by

NANCY, the wall begins to pulse in exact time with her heart's

beat.

CLOSE ON NANCY'S FACE. She closes her eyes.

ANGLE BACK UP ON THE CEILING JUST ABOVE HER HEAD. SOMETHING

presses against the surface from the inside. The plaster buldges

out as if suddenly elastic, taking the shape of the thing

pressing from inside -- taking the shape of a man's face. The

face opens its mouth. The knives rake through the surface.

ANGLE ON NANCY -- as plaster dust snows down on her.

She jerks awake, sitting bolt upright. The face retracts

suddenly -- the wall is normal.

ANGLE DOWN ON NANCY as she looks up to the ceiling, touching her

hair and feeling the plaster dust.

REVERSE IN HER POV TO THE CEILING. There are three parallel cuts

in the plaster there. About eight inches long. As if cut by

sharp knives. Nothing else.

Back on NANCY. She draws the covers around her and shivers.

Eyes wide open.

 

16. EXT. TINA'S HOUSE. NIGHT. 16.

Not a car or person in sight. A stricken breeze dies in the

trees.

17. ZOOM IN on the window of the room where TINA sleeps. By the time 17.

we're FULL IN CLOSE on it, the air is again still as death. A

moment later a PEBBLE bounces off the pane. The NIGHTMARE THEME

appears in the lower registers and holds its breath.

Another PEBBLE strikes, with a sharper RAP.

 

18. INT. TINA'S MOTHER'S BEDROOM. NIGHT. 18.

CLOSE ON TINA'S FACE as her eyes open.

19. REVERSE IN HER POV. Another PEBBLE clatters off the glass. 19.

20. TINA raises slowly. 20.

TINA

ROD...

SNORES FROM ROD. TINA sits up.

PAST HER TO THE WINDOW. The WIND MOVES AGAIN; the trees brush

the window with their shadows. Then another pebble. RAP! TINA

slips to the window.

 

21. EXT. TINA'S BACKYARD. NIGHT. 21.

She looks out on an old yard with a patch of bananna trees

rattling in the Santa Ana winds. It seems deserted, though the

welling dark won't let her be sure. Then another pebble -- PAP!

-- hitting with a sharp RACK FOCUS.

22. A LOW ANGLE TO WINDOW as TINA jumps back, startled. She hadn't 22.

seen that one coming. But she's drawn back to the glass out of

curiousity, straining to see in the dark. It's as if the stones

are materializing out of thin air.

 

23. INT. TINA'S MOTHER'S ROOM. NIGHT. 23.

WHAP! This time a heavier stone, and a thin crack bristles

across the glass.

TINA

(low)

Who the fuck you think you are,

whoever you are?

 

24. EXT. TINA'S BACK YARD. NIGHT. 24.

WIDE ANGLE ON THE REAR OF THE HOUSE. A LIGHT COMES ON. TINA

appears in the doorway.

TINA

(listening)

Somebody there?

She can see through the backward to a yawning gate and the back

alley. No one there. But a word is spoken, as if by wind.

VOICE

(garbled)

Tina.

TINA straightens, unable to swallow. There's a ragged, obscene

GIGGLE. Deep in the throat. Phlegmy.

TINA

Who the hell is that?

TINA charges across the yard and through the gate, the MUSIC

chasing after.

 

25. EXT. A SERVICE ALLEY. NIGHT. 25.

She brakes in the middle of the alley and whirls around.

Listening. Shivering in the same thin slashed nightgown.

A sharp crank of METAL, and fifty feet down the alley the lid of

an ash can rolls from the dark like a huge tin coin and spirals

noisily down.

26. LOW REVERSE ACROSS LID TO TINA. Despite herself she comes over 26.

and touches it. She comes up with long worms on her fingers.

Next moment the exact same shambling MAN from her nightmare

staggers into view fifty feet behind her. TINA falls back into

the shadows, shaking the worms off her fingers in repulsion. The

MAN turns and starts directly for her, something shining on his

right hand as he spreads his arms wide. He starts scraping the

steel FINGERNAILS along a cinderblock wall. Orange sparks spurt

out -- his arms elongate until they reach from one side of the

alley to the other -- and TINA is cut off from her home!

CLOSE ON HER as the SCRAPING of the blades gets louder and

closer. She begins to shake uncontrollably.

TINA

Oh, shit, please God...

KILLER

(softly, approaching)

This is God...

He holds up his steel-tipped hand like a surgical-steel spider.

TINA runs for her life.

27. WIDER ANGLE IN THE ALLEY -- a terrifying, all-out footrace 27.

between the girl and her pursuer. The MAN is fast; the distance

between them closes with each heartbeat. TINA overturns ashcans

-- claws her way through a rotten back fence, hammers against a

window. Ashen FACES appear, recoil, pull curtains closed and

disappear in fright.

 

28. EXT. TINA'S STREET. NIGHT. 28.

TINA runs out onto front lawns, SCREAMING for help. No help

comes. In fact, the only response is for all the porch lights on

the block to be turned off. The MAN roars out from behind a tree

-- a tree too narrow to have hidden him -- nearly upon the girl!

TINA runs in panic -- at last making her own home, only to be

trapped against its locked front door.

She hammers against its thick wood.

TINA

Nancy! Open the door -- Nancy!

The MAN slows. He has TINA now and knows it.

MAN

She's still awake. Nancy can't

hear you.

TINA turns and looks full at the approaching MAN. Smudged by

deep shadow, he's big and hideous. He wears the same dirty

yellow sweater from the first nightmare -- from the wall-hanging

and blanket too -- and has the same sagging hat and leering grin

over his misshapen face. And on his fingers are the steel

talons.

29. CLOSE ON HIM as he takes the blade on the end of his right index 29.

finger and lopes off one of the fingers of his left hand. Then

another. We SEE the PIECES OF FINGERS fall past TINA'S face in

SLOW MOTION.

ANGLE ON THE GROUND of the FINGERS squirming on the ground, one

flopping onto TINA's naked foot.

TINA leaps back, sickened, and begins stamping on then as if they

were huge bugs.

The MAN snaps up his arm and the FINGERS fly back into place on

his hand. He leers at TINA -- then suddenly lunges at her,

sweeping with his cutting hand!

TINA's no weak sister -- blocks his arm, deflecting the spines,

and grabs the MAN's ugly face with her other hand. But the face

only slides off to the bone. The MAN presses in, and TINA

contorts in horror as the knives slash across her shoulder --

cutting her deeply.

29A. TINA staggers backward, GROANING, her foot now inexplicably 29A.

caught in bedclothes! She falls over her bed's conformter, twists

away from the man and, like a child, pulls the cover over her!

The skull-faced MAN crushes down, and there's a fierce grappling

-- punctuated by his GRUNTS and the girl's DEAFENING SCREAMS --

and they both become totally wrapped in the comforter -- until

they're beneath it, fighting for life and death.

 

30. INT. TINA'S BEDROOM. NIGHT. 30.

ROD lurches up into CLOSE UP in the lightless bedroom,

half-awakened by the tremendous struggle somewhere, somehow

inside the dark bed. ROD grabs groggily, lifting the blanket.

30A. IN HIS POV we glimpse the dark underside of the blanket -- see 30A.

TWO SHADOWY FIGURES flailing and clawing under the bedspread --

TINA and the MAN -- or a shape that could be a man -- raging

against each other.

ROD drops the blanket and leaps from the bed, scared full awake

and terrified. Then the horrible TINA's GASPS change to the

CRIES of a terribly wounded victim. ROD instantly jerks back the

bedspread.

IN HIS POV we SEE TINA struggling and flailing along on the

sheets, the MAN nowhere in sight.

ROD

T-tina!?

Suddenly TINA -- eyes turned inward to her tormentor -- give an

awful jolt -- her arms and legs are spraddled as if by

overwhelming force and pinned to the bed. Next instant, her

nightgown flies apart and four long gashes chase across her

torso. From no visible instruments! A huge irrigation of blood

floods the bed.

Terrified, ROD dives for the light -- but at the same moment

something invisible grabs TINA, wielding her body in the air and

bringing it around in a swift blow that knocks ROD crashing into

the light -- smashing it to bits.

31. CLOSER ON HIM as he struggles around. In the blue FLASHES OF 31.

ELECTRICITY ROD sees TINA sliding up the bedroom wall in a dark

smear, dragged feet first!

ANGLE ON ROD -- paralized by terror!

ANGLE ON TINA'S DYING EYES -- moving with her up the wall and

bumping around the corner onto the ceiling. She's just looking

at who's dragging her, eyes glazing.

REVERSE IN HER POV -- to the shadowy, horrendously ugly MAN,

dragging her with fierce glee across the ceiling, literally

swabbing the ceiling with her bloody body. SEEN in FORCED

PERSPECTIVE, the SHOT carries her across a great distance without

seeming to get anywhere -- as if the ceiling is an endless

plane.

ANGLE DOWN ON ROD -- on his hands and knees -- the lamp next to

him blurting blue SPARKS and STROBING the nightmare room. ROD'S

screaming up at TINA'S invisible tormentor.

ROD

What the hell's going ON here!

Tina!

ANGLE ON TINA -- upside down, clawing at the hanging swag lamp

above her mother's dressing table -- desperate for some anchor.

But she's dragged away from it. The lamp swings back, it's wires

gushing more SPARKS.

CLOSER along the ceiling as TINA rakes a long furrow in the

ceiling with her fingernails. But her eyes are glazing,

glazing. And then they fall closed.

WIDE, UP ON THE CEILING, as her body suddenly flops loose,

hanging for an awful moment by the feet over the bed.

REVERSE ON ROD -- staring like a terrified child.

ROD

Tina --

REVERSE IN HIS POV -- as the body falls like a sack of rocks onto

the devastated bed, in SLOW MOTION, striking with a huge splash

of blood. A sick, awful GIGGLE floats around the room, then

ECHOES off into infinity. ROD staggers up, staring around as if

hoping to see this phantom.

ROD

You motherfucker! I'll kill you

for that!

 

32. INT. TINA'S BEDROOM. NIGHT. 32.

NANCY is sitting straight up in bed, terrified. The CRIES of ROD

are ringing through the whole house. She forces herself to move

-- bolting from the bed despite her terror and sense of dread.

 

33. INT. HALLWAY. NIGHT. 33.

NANCY flies into the dark hall -- crashing directly into SOMEONE

who lurches out of the dark before her. She SCREAMS and jumps

back --

GLEN

What the hell's going on!?

NANCY

Oh -- jeez -- Glen! Rod's

gone ape!

ROD (OS)

(sobbing)

I'll kill you!

NANCY grabs the door; it's locked; she pounds on it. BAM! BAM!

BAM!

Things fall into sudden, awful silence on the other side. GLEN's

voice cracks with fear.

GLEN

Rod?

(silence)

Rod, you better not hurt Tina...

ROD erupts into terrible HOARSE LAUGHTER AND SOBBING. Then they

hear BREAKING GLASS.

GLEN barrels into the door like the football player he is. The

frame splinters and they're in.

 

34. INT. TINA'S MOTHER'S BEDROOM. NIGHT. 34.

Just inside the door NANCY slips and goes down hard. GLEN finds

her in the dark more by touch than sight.

GLEN

You okay?

NANCY

Yeah. Something slippering all

over here...

(feeling)

Tina?

No answer. The room is quiet as a tomb. Except for a stead

DRIPPING, from all over. Then GLEN finds a LIGHT SWITCH.

On the CLICK the devastation is revealed. There's BLOOD

everywhere: up the walls, over the clawed ceiling, soaking the

killing floor of the bed, and pooling in the dark red puddle

where NANCY has slipped and fallen.

GLEN

Oh, shit...

NANCY wobbles up and sees TINA in the center of the ravaged bed.

Unmistakeably and utterly dead. NANCY presses against the wall,

then contorts and chokes.

GLEN (CONTD)

(numb)

I...I'm gonna call the cops --

He bursts from the room.

35. TIGHT ON NANCY. She turns away from the body in repulsion, 35.

sticking her head through the shattered window ROD LANE used for

his escape, sucking in the cold night air and moaning.

FADE TO BLACK

 

36. EXT/INT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT. 36.

FADE UP ON RED LIGHTS and SIREN as an unmarked POLICE CAR speeds

to the curb.

LT DON THOMPSON, a decent-looking man in his mid-40's, exits and

punches a cigarette from his pack. His shaken aide, a uniformed

patrolman named PARKER, greets him. (CAMERA FOLLOWS them from

the car straight into the station and eventually to THOMPSON'S

OFFICE.)

PARKER

Lieutenant Thompson. Sorry to

wake you, but --

LT THOMPSON

I'd've canned your ass if you

hadn't. What you got?

PARKER stumbles to open the door for THOMPSON as the man bulls

into the station at a furious pace.

PARKER

Her name was Tina Gray. It

was her home. Father abandoned

ten years ago, mother's in

Vegas with a boyfriend. We're

trying to reach her now.

LT THOMPSON grimaces as if he knows the story.

LT THOMPSON

What's the Coroner got to say?

PARKER

Something like a razor was

the weapon, but nothing

found on the scene.

THOMPSON is already to the desk officer SERGEANT GARCIA. The big

MAN shoves him a sheaf of papers --

SERGEANT GARCIA

(wary)

Leautenant. You know who --

LT THOMPSON

Where is she?

SERGEANT GARCIA

I put her in your office...

PARKER scurries after.

PARKER

Looks like her boyfriend did

it. Rod Lane. Musician type,

arrests for brawling, dope --

LT THOMPSON

Terrific. What the hell was

she doing there?

PARKER

She lived there.

LT THOMPSON

OMIT 37. I don't mean her -- OMIT 37.

38. INT. INTERROGATION ROOM. NIGHT. 38.

THOMPSON enters his office and confronts NANCY and her mother,

MARGE SIMSON.

LT THOMPSON (CONTD)

I mean you.

(accusingly, to Marge)

What the hell was she doing there?

MARGE SIMSON is in her middle thirties; a good-looking woman

despite the hour and circumstances.

MARGE

Hello to you, too, Donald.

THOMPSON stops, the steam suddenly out of him. The girl is a

wreck and he winces to see it.

LT THOMPSON

Marge.

THOMPSON glances at PARKER and the other UNIFORMED COPS who are

in the room. As a man they head for the door. There's no

question who the boss is here. THOMPSON turns to NANCY. She

fumbles a smile.

LT THOMPSON (CONTD)

How you doing, pal?

NANCY

Okay. Hi, dad.

NANCY's dress is dark with dried blood, her skin clammy and the

color of paste. MARGE shoots her ex-husband a worried glance.

THOMPSON pulls a chair close to NANCY.

LT THOMPSON

I don't want to get into this now,

god knows you need time.

(hotter)

But I'd sure would like to know

what the hell you were doing

shacked up with three other kids

in the middle of the night --

especially a delinquent lunatic

like Lane.

NANCY weaves.

NANCY

Rod's not a lunatic.

LT THOMPSON

You got a sane explanation for

what he did?

The girl is shredding a Kleenex, staring off.

MARGE

Apparantly he was crazy jealous.

Nancy said they'd had a fight,

Rod and Tina.

NANCY

(quietly)

It wasn't that serious...

MARGE

Maybe you don't think murder's

serious --

NANCY sits bolt upright in her chair, her eyes flashing.

NANCY

She was my best friend! Don't

you dare say I don't take her

death seriously!

(lower, near tears)

I just meant their fights

weren't that serious.

The girl holds the woman's eyes a moment, then looks away.

NANCY (CONTD)

(to herself)

She dreamed this would happen...

LT THOMPSON

What?

NANCY

She had a nightmare about somebody

trying to kill her, last night.

That's why we were there; she was

afraid to sleep alone.

A tear splashes off the arm of her chair.

MARGE

She's been through enough for one

night. You have her statement.

The mother and daughter rise; THOMPSON raps on the door and

PARKER opens it.

LT THOMPSON

(to MARGE)

I suggest you keep a little better

track on her -- she's still a kid,

y'know.

MARGE wheels on him.

MARGE

You think I knew there were boys

there!? You try raising a

teenager alone.

Then she and the girl are gone. THOMPSON glares at PARKER.

LT THOMPSON

(low to PARKER)

See they get home okay.

PARKER shoves his hands in his pockets. ON HIS FACE we

FADE TO BLACK

 

39. INT. NANCY'S KITCHEN. MORNING. 39.

BURN ON

THE SECOND DAY

FADE UP ON MARGE SIMSON opening a new bottle of gin, pouring

herself a careful shot, drinking it, then chasing it with

coffee. Nearby a TV drones the morning news. We can't yet see

the SCREEN.

TV NEWSCASTER (OS/FILTER)

In the headlines this morning --

a local teenage girl was brutally

murdered during an all-night party.

MARGE TURNS, startled, seeing NANCY coming downstairs.

The girl looks a little better than she did in the Police

Station, but her eyes are still red-rimmed, and a vacant stress

masks her face. She looks to the TV. Stops.

TV NEWSCASTER (CONTD)

Police say the victim, fifteen-year

-old Christina Grey, had quarrelled

earlier with her boyfriend, Rod

Lane, a punk rocker with a history

of delinquency. Lane is now the

subject of a city-wide manhunt.

According to --

39A. The TV PICTURE has begun featuring a HANDHELD NEWSREEL SHOT of a

dark rubber BODY BAG being carried to a CORONER'S VAN. Just

before the thing is lifted inside, TINA'S bloodied, white ARM

slips from its zippered side and lolls into the dark night air.

A man rudely shoves it back inside and pulls the zipper up the

rest of the way.

39B. WIDER -- as NANCY pales visible. MARGE darts to the TV and slaps

it off, then turning to NANCY. She looks at the girl a moment,

then goes to her and hugs her.

MARGE

(kind)

Where you think you're going?

NANCY

School.

MARGE

I could hear you tossing and

turning all night, kiddo. You've

no business going to school.

NANCY pulls away, determined.

NANCY

I gotta go to school, Mom.

Please. Otherwise I'll just

sit up there and go crazy

or something.

MARGE studies her face a moment.

MARGE

Did you sleep?

NANCY

I'll sleep in study hall, promise.

I'd rather keep busy, you know?

She absently drains the woman's coffee cup -- then pecks her

cheek.

MARGE

Right home after.

NANCY (cont'd)

Right home after. See you.

MARGE watches the girl disappear outside, then lights a cigarette

from the one already burning in her fingers.

 

40. EXT. STREET. DAY. 40.

MUSIC slips back in, subtle but tense as we TRACK with NANCY as

she walks alone down a sidewalk edged with thick flowering

Oleander. She cocks her head, puzzled, as if sensing something.

MUSIC mounts. NANCY looks across the street.

40A. REVERSE IN HER POV. A MAN is over there in dark clothes, reading 40A.

a newspaper, but really watching her.

40B. NANCY shrugs and continues on, then stops and looks back again. 40B.

40C. IN HER POV we SEE the MAN is gone. 40C.

40D. Next moment -- with a MUSIC STING -- a BLOODIED HAND jumps out 40D.

from the opposite direction, clamps over NANCY'S mouth and drags

her into the bushes.

 

41. EXT. BUSHES. DAY. 41.

NANCY struggles, twisting against the powerful assailant.

A WIDER ANGLE REVEALS ROD LANE -- barefoot, clad only in jeans

and leather jacket, still caked with dark blood. The rest of his

skin is pale as a ghost's.

ROD

I'm not gonna hurt you.

He releases her warily. NANCY makes no move to run or scream,

even though several STUDENTS pass on the nearby sidewalk. This

reassures ROD just a little.

ROD

Your old man thinks I did it,

don't he?

NANCY

He doesn't know you.

(eyeing the blood)

Couldn't you change?

ROD

The cops were all over my house.

(shivers)

They'll kill me for sure.

NANCY

Nobody's gonna kill you.

He runs his hands down his face, trying to believe that. The two

study each other.

ROD

I never touched her.

NANCY

You were screaming like crazy.

NANCY says this without accusation, just cool observation.

ROD

Someone else was there.

NANCY

The door was locked from your

side.

ROD grabs her hard. His muscular body tenses.

ROD

Don't look at me like I'm some

kind of fucking fruitcake or

something, I'm warning you.

VOICE (O.S.)

Morning, Mr. Lane.

42. The boy jerks around. NANCY's father, his .38 leveled right at 42.

ROD's belly, eases out of the bushes.

LT THOMPSON

Now just step away from her, son.

Like your ass depended on it.

I'm warning you.

ROD backs away, looking once at NANCY with a look of terrible

sadness. Then he dives out of the bushes and runs like hell.

THOMPSON snaps his revolver to fire -- but instinctively NANCY

jumps between --

NANCY

No!

THOMPSON jerks his gun into the air, furious.

THOMPSON

Jesus -- are you crazy!?

He plunges past the girl.

 

42A. EXT. STREET. DAY. 42A.

ROD races like a frightened animal across the lawns -- but is

soon cut off by the PLANECLOTHESMAN NANCY saw watching her before

-- and then TWO UNIFORMED POLICEMAN, who close from another

angle. The chase is short and pitifully off-balance, and ROD is

soon wrestled to the ground. Next moment one of the cops is

holding ROD'S knife into the air for THOMPSON to see. THOMPSON

looks at NANCY, as if to say 'I told you.' Background, ROD'S

SHOUTS can be heard as he's shoved into a SQUAD CAR.

ROD (O.S.)

I didn't do it -- !

(fading)

I didn't kill her, Nancy!

The car's door slams and ROD is gone. NANCY turns to her father,

livid.

NANCY

You used me, daddy!

LT THOMPSON

(exasperated)

What the hell you doing going to

school today, anyway -- your

mother told me you didn't even

sleep last night!

NANCY spins angrily and walks away.

LT THOMPSON

Nancy! Hey!

But she just keeps going.

FADE TO BLACK

 

43. INT. CLASSROOM. DAY. 43.

FADE UP ON an ENGLISH TEACHER and CLASS, NANCY among the kids,

trying to concentrate.

TEACHER

According to Shakespeare, there

was something operating in Nature,

perhaps inside human nature itself,

that was rotten -- a canker, as

he put it.

The TEACHER'S eyes glance across the room. ANGLE ON NANCY;

yawning but listening.

TEACHER (CONTD)

Of course Hamlet's response to

this, and to his mother's lies,

was to continually probe and

dig -- just like the gravediggers --

always trying to get beneath the

surface. The same was true in a

different way in Julius Caesar.

Jon, go ahead...

She nods to a SURFER who's been waiting uncomfortably in front of

the class. He squints at his book and begins, the recitation a

struggle between baked and salted brain and the poetry of the

Bard.

SURFER

(reading aloud)

Uh, In the most high and palmy

state of Rome...

WISEGUY STUDENT (O.S.)

California's the most high and

palmy state, man.

The SURFER halts with a grin; KIDS snicker.

ENGLISH TEACHER

Can it.

She glares them back into silence. The SURFER starts over, as we

CUT TO NANCY.

She's nodding off now, barely able to keep her eyes open in the

warm, close boredom of the classroom.

SURFER (O.S.)

In the most high and palmy state

of Rome, a little ere the mightiest

Julius fell...

(NANCY's head pitches

forward; she jerks it

back up, barely awake)

The graves stood tenantless, and

the sheeted dead did squeak and

gibber in the Roman street...

44. NANCY's head has sunk again, eyelids drawn as if by enormous 44.

weight. By the time her cheek's against the desk, the SURFER'S

VOICE is ECHOED and DISTANT. But another voice, TINA'S, is very

near, very much present. A sad, thin plaint.

TINA (O.S.)

Nancy.

NANCY gives a start. Her eyes lock onto something.

45. REVERSE. TILTED SIDEWAYS, IN HER HEAD'S POV, we look straight 45.

out through the open doorway of the classroom into the hall.

There, standing in a black pool of fluid, is a full-sized rubber

body bag. Dark red and yellow. Weaving slightly, the merest

suggesting of movement within it.

46. BACK ON NANCY, sitting upright, wiping the sleep from her eyes, 46.

shaking her head like a punchy prozefighter. She looks back out

the door.

47. REVERSE IN 'NORMAL' POV -- the hallway is empty. But there's a 47.

dark smear on its floor tiles.

48. NANCY looks nervously towards the rest of the class. No one else 48.

has noticed a thing outside the door. All are dumbly spellbound

by the SURFER, who now recites like a deep-voiced robot, his face

wreathed by white hair.

SURFER

O God, I could be bounded in a

nutshell and count myself a king

of infinite space, were it not

that I have bad dreams...

49. ANGLE BACK ON NANCY. She slips from her seat, eye warily on the 49.

teacher and class. But no one turns as she disappears through

the doorway.

 

50. INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY. DAY. 50.

NANCY turns and looks both directions. No sign of anybody.

TINA (O.S.)

(distant)

Nancy.

NANCY wheels and sees the bag, prone on the tiles at the far end

of the hall, at the end of a long snail's trail of slime. A pale

hand thrusts out of it. A moment later, as if pulled by

invisible gravity, the bag slides out of sight into an

intersecting corridor.

NANCY

Tina!

NANCY starts running for it.

51. ANGLE AT THE CORNER as NANCY races blindly around the turn and 51.

smashes straight into a BODY lunging at her from the opposite

direction! Both go down.

52. ANGLE AT THE FLOOR. A dazed freshman HALLGUARD cranks herself up 52.

on one elbow. She wears a plastic plaque on her red and yellow

sweater that reads 'Hall Guard'. Her nose is bleeding from the

impact.

HALLGUARD

Y-you're not supposed to run.

W-where's your pass -- you got a

pass?

NANCY leaps up --

NANCY

Screw your stupid pass!

53. She turns -- sees the body bag halfway down this darker, narrower 53.

hall, upright again. But just as she sees it, it tips and

pitches headlong through a doorway -- like some godawful rotten

tree finally timbering down. She can hear the sickening

CRUNCHING of it falling down a long flight of stairs.

NANCY runs for it again. The HALLGUARD staggers up FOREGROUND,

bleeding profusely from her eyes and ears.

HALLGUARD

Hey, no running in the halls!

The HALLGUARD raises her hand and we see it's tipped with long

metal spikes.

REVERSE ANGLE AT THE DOOR as NANCY runs up. NANCY turns to check

out the HALLGUARD. She's vanished. NANCY turns and looks down

through the open door. The MUSIC sweeps through a strange,

brooding movement of strings, mounting towards the NIGHTMARE

THEME.

 

54. INT. A STAIRWELL. 54.

NANCY edges into the stairwell and looks down. Looks like

there's a fire somewhere down there, from the way the orange

light dances. But there's only a low WHITE NOISE.

NANCY

Tina?

No answer. NANCY starts down the stairs.

 

55. INT. BOILER ROOM. DAY. 55.

NANCY comes off the stairs into a dank boiler room. The smear

trail is there. It runs behind a cracking, red-hot boiler the

size of a diesel locomotive. Everything about the place feels

dreadfully wrong, and the MUSIC is deep into the NIGHTMARE THEME

when it pauses.

TIGHT ON NANCY. Slow terror moves into her face. There's a low,

sinister GIGGLE.

56. REVERSE IN HER POV -- we see a tangle of pipes, shadows, and the 56.

tainted fire of the huge boiler. Then from behind this, deeply

shadowed but still identifiable, steps TINA's KILLER. The same

filthy red and yellow sweater and slouch hat, the same melted

face twisting into a smile, the same GARBLED LAUGH as he slides

the long blades from beneath his shirt and fans them on the ends

of his bony fingers.

NANCY

Who are you?

MAN

Gonna get you.

57. The leering MAN brings the bloodied scalpel-fingernails across 57.

his own chest, splitting a nipple. Yellow fluid pours out.

MAGGOTS and WORMS.

NANCY forgets the question -- jerks around and flees in blind

panic into the first opening she sees -- a dark pipe tunnel.

 

58. INT. PIPE TUNNEL. 58.

ANGLE IN THE NARROW PASSAGEWAY. In the BACKGROUND the killer

shambles towards her; FOREGROUND NANCY breaks into a run.

The killer sprints -- NANCY tears ahead into darkness.

She flees deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of steaming,

SIZZLING pipes, squeezing through smaller and smaller openings.

The killer is just yards behind her, and soon she's trapped, just

as TINA was before her.

She presses her back to the wet bricks. There's no hope of

fighting him off, for NANCY is not as strong as TINA. But she is

smart as hell, and thinking even in this nightmare. So by the

time the creep has raised his knives to strike, NANCY has

realized something. She wheels and shoves her arm against one of

the scalding steam pipes. In the sme split second we HEAR her

flesh scald, we

CUT TO:

 

59. INT. ENGLISH CLASS. DAY. 59.

NANCY lurches up SCREAMING, arm raised to ward off the invisible

blow, books clattering to the floor -- other GIRLS nearby SCREAM

in surprise as she stumbles over them. Then she stops, confused

and groggy from the nightmare.

WIDER ANGLE. EVERYBODY is staring at NANCY as if she's gone

mad. The ENGLISH TEACHER rushes over, herself frightened by the

terror in the girl's eyes.

TEACHER

Okay -- Okay, Thompson! Every-

thing's all right now -- Nancy!.

60. NANCY jerks around with panicked eyes, expecting the killer to 60.

leap from any direction. But there's only the sea of staring

eyes.

NANCY begins methodically picking up her books.

TEACHER

I'll call your mother.

NANCY

No! No, really, I'm fine. I'll go

straight home. I'm okay.

She marches for the door.

TEACHER

You'll need a hall pass!

But the girl's gone.

 

61. EXT. THE SCHOOL. DAY. 61.

NANCY walks out of the building, shaken. Then she pauses at one

of the big pine trees out front, stops and rests her head against

its bark, teeth set. NANCY starts to shake, and next second

she's sobbing like a broken-hearted, frightened child. OMIT 61A.

OMIT 61A.

62. But she shakes herself silent. Wipes the tears away with a slash 62.

of sleeve. She rubs her arm absently, lost in thought, then

reacts in surprise and pain. She lifts her arm and stares at the

spot she's touched.

INSERT ON HER ARM and the BURN there; about the size and shape of

a half-dollar.

WIDER ON NANCY. Utterly, chillingly confused.

62A. TINA, against the tree inches from NANCY, (SC 7) -- turns to her and

says --

TINA

Couldn't get back to sleep

at all.

(beat)

What you dream?

 

63. EXT. A BUSY STREET. DAY. 63.

NANCY is walking quickly, head erect, jaw set. Then she enters

her father's Police Station.

 

64. INT. VAN NUYS POLICE STATION. DAY. 64.

NANCY crosses directly to the GARCIA.

NANCY

My dad here?

GARCIA looks up from his paperwork.

SERGEANT GARCIA

Lieutenant.

LT THOMPSON emerges from another room, uneasy to see NANCY.

LT THOMPSON

Decide to take a day off after

all?

NANCY

Dad, I want to see Rod Lane.

THOMPSON doesn't miss a beat.

LT THOMPSON

Only family allowed, Nancy. You

know the drill.

NANCY

Just want to talk to him a second.

LT THOMPSON

He's dangerous.

NANCY

You don't know he did it.

LT THOMPSON

No, I know, thanks to your

own testimony, that he was

locked in a room with a girl

who went in alive and came

out in a rubber bag.

NANCY flinches; her father shows the first signs of color in his

neck.

NANCY

I just want to talk to him.

(beat, lower)

Please, Dad.

THOMPSON shifts almost imperceptibly towards GARCIA, then turns

back to NANCY.

LT THOMPSON

Make it fast.

DISSOLVE TO:

 

65. INT. CELL AREA. DAY. 65.

A GUARD exits pushing a cart of food trays. NANCY waits warily

until he's gone, then looks back to ROD LANE. ROD looks more

like a captured coyote than a human; haggard, ribbed, expecting

poisoned bait. His hair is wet, his clothes are borrowed jeans

and work shirt.

NANCY

(low)

And then what happened?

ROD

I told you.

(reluctantly)

It was dark, but I'm sure there

was someone else IN there, under

the covers with her.

NANCY reacts.

NANCY

How could somebody get under

the covers with you guys

without you knowing it?

ROD

How the fuck do I know?

(beat)

I don't expect you to believe

me.

NANCY studies his encrypted eyes. Surprisingly, she looks like

she just might believe him. She leans closer with a new

thought.

NANCY

What he look like? You get

a look at him?

He looks away.

ROD

No.

NANCY

Well then how can you say

somebody else was there?

ROD

Because somebody cut her. While

I watched.

Now the place is so quiet you can hear heartbeats.

NANCY

Somebody cut her while you watched

and you don't know what he looked

like?

ROD smiles an insane smile, stuck with a reality no one will

buy.

ROD

You couldn't see the fucker.

You could just see the cuts

happening, all at once.

NANCY gives a twitch.

NANCY

What you mean 'all at once'?

ROD

(low)

I mean, it was as if there were

four razors cutting her at the

same time. But invisible razors.

She just... opened up...

By now he's picking at a clot of dark blood on his jacket, as if

it was a scab on his own body. Then he catches NANCY watching

and turns away to the back of the cell. He smashes his fist into

the wall -- bone-crushing blows that scare the wits out of

NANCY.

NANCY

Rod!

He stops, and his fist is dripping blood as he says in a small,

sad voice.

ROD

I probably could've saved her

if I'd moved sooner... But I

thought it was just another

nightmare, like the one I had

the night before.

(beat)

There... was this guy who had

knives for fingers...

CLOSE ON NANCY, unable to swallow the gorge rising in her

throat. ROD turns to her, and to his surprise she's ashen.

ROD (CONTD)

Do you think I did it?

NANCY

No.

FADE TO BLACK

 

66. EXT. ELM STREET / NANCY'S HOME. NIGHT. 66.

FADE UP ON ESTABLISHING SHOT as a spooky WIND sets a DOG BARKING

down the block. A CAR goes by, then this pleasant residential

street falls into silence. CAMERA has MOVED IN on NANCY's

well-tended two-story home.

 

67. INT. NANCY'S KITCHEN. NIGHT. 67.

The house is in shadow. Alone, MARGE scrapes the last of the

evening's dishes and slips them into the dishwasher. Neither she

nor her daughter has touched the food. But MARGE is well into a

bottle of gin; her appetite for that is growing, right along with

her dread. She turns and looks up the stairs, calling.

MARGE

Nancy, don't fall asleep in

there.

NANCY (OS)

I won't.

MARGE

Get into bed.

 

68. INT. UPSTAIRS BATHROOM. NIGHT. 68.

NANCY

I will.

NANCY'S in the tub, so drowsy she can hardly rinse without

falling asleep. The water in the tub is opaque with suds.

Luxurious.

CLOSER ANGLE, AT WATER LEVEL ON NANCY. Her eyes droop. She

slides closer to the surface of the water, letting its heat sooth

her nerves. Her eyes stare straight up, glazed; her breathing

deepens.

REVERSE, across to her legs, crooked, one knee on each side of

the tub. There's a ripple in the water between. Then something

tiny and shiny breaks the surface between them. It pops up with

a slithering MUSIC CUE and catches a sliver of light. Then it

begins to rise.

Higher and higher it rises, soon accompanied by another, then two

more shining, gleaming blades, and then the full glove and dark

hairy hand and then the wrist and arm, straight up light an evil

sapling between the girl's knees, the knives bloosoming into a

bright flower of razor sharp steel in the air, moving over the

girl's belly. The hand rears back, the claws arch to strike.

MARGE (OS/APPROACHING)

Nancy?

MARGE raps on the door. The instant she does NANCY jerks up,

opening her eyes groggily. The dark wet arm, hand and knifes are

gone.

NANCY

What?

MARGE (OS)

(through the door)

You're not falling asleep,

are you? You could drown,

you know.

NANCY

Mother, for petesakes.

MARGE (OS)

It happens all the time.

(brighter)

I've got some warm milk all

ready for you. Why don't you

jump into bed?

(fading)

I'm gonna turn on your electric

blanket, too. C'mon, now.

(then she's gone into

another room)

NANCY

(low)

Warm milk. Gross.

She slides down to water level again, and sings softly,

thoughtfully to herself.

NANCY (CONTD)

One, two, Freddie's coming for

you, three four, better lock

your door, five six, grab your

crucifix, seven eight gonna

stay up late, nine ten, never

sleep again...

The next instant she's jerked with incredible violence straight

down beneath the surface of the tub -- as if the bottom had

suddenly dropped out and she was in a bottomless well!

 

68A. EXT. UNDERWATER SHOT. NIGHT. 68A.

LOOKING UP PAST HER ANKLES we SEE NANCY pulled sharply down into

really deep water, the dim light of the surface and bathroom

beyond receding with each yank. And yet she somehow flails and

gasps and struggles back towards the surface, managing by pure

panic to break the surface with her hands!

 

68B. INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE BATHROOM. 68B.

MARGE rushes to the door and listens, alarmed at the wild

SPLASHING audible through the locked door.

MARGE

Nancy! NANCY!

 

68C. EXT. UNDERWATER SHOT. NIGHT. 68C.

MARGE'S VOICE reaches to the girl, who thrusts up through main

force and breaks the surface with her head and shoulders.

 

68D. INT. BATHTUB. 68D.

Gasping and choking, NANCY breaks the surface of her bathwater,

like a drowning sailer getting one last chance. Her mother's

VOICE booms over her, ECHOED and frantic -- and the loud BANGING

on the door finally opens her eyes. She turns and calls gasping

to her mother --

NANCY

Mommy!

REVERSE ON THE DOOR -- as MARGE, using the old hangar through the

doorhandle truck, makes it into the room. She rushes across to

the tub. NANCY is staggering up in the bathwater, again with

solid porcelain beneath her feet.

MARGE

I told you! Hundreds of people

a year drown like that!

The mother throws a towel around the gasping girl, helps her from

the tub and begins drying her like a child. NANCY looks like

she's likes paralized with some sort of weird dread.

MARGE

You okay?

NANCY

Great

MARGE

(not believing it for

a minute)

To bed with you, c'mon.

MARGE rushes out to get the room ready. NANCY turns and looks at

herself in the cabinet mirror, then opens the medicine chest and

begins a quick, furtive search.

CLOSER as she takes out the box of No Doz and slips it into her

robe.

 

OMIT SCS. 69 & 70------------------------------- OMIT SCS. 69 & 70

71. INT. HALLWAY. NIGHT. 71.

NANCY emerges from the bathroom yawning. MARGE follows as the

girl plods obediently to her room.

MARGE

No television, forget the

homework, no phone calls.

NANCY

No, Mother. Yes, Mother.

No, Mother.

 

72. INT. NANCY'S ROOM. NIGHT. 72.

MARGE

And no school tomorrow, either.

you take a little vacation, relax

and rest for a change.

NANCY

Yes, Mother. G'night.

MARGE offers a smile, and a little yellow pill.

MARGE

Take this, it'll help you sleep.

NANCY

Right.

NANCY pops it in her mouth and swallows obediently. MARGE leans

to her with a kiss.

MARGE

Sleep tight, don't let the

bedbugs bite.

MARGE goes out, relieved. NANCY closes the door, leans against

it and spits the pill into her hand. She tosses it straight out

her window and takes a NoDoz.

FADE TO BLACK

 

73. OMIT OMIT 73.

74. FADE UP ON INSERT OF TELEVISION SCREEN. 74.

A MONSTER MOVIE in BLACK AND WHITE. NO SOUND from the set.

75. PULL BACK to REVEAL NANCY propped up in bed, furtively watching. Or 75.

is she just thinking? A bedside CLOCK reads 12:45 pm.

The girl YAWNS. She shakes herself violently and sits up

straighter, forcing herself to concentrate on the movie.

75A. ON THE TELEVISION SCREEN. A DIVER struggles to keep facing a 75A.

large circling shark.

75B. ON NANCY. Her eyes droop shut -- then she jerks awake, rattling 75B.

her head as if it were a radio drifting off station. She tumbles

out of bed, throws open the window and takes a deep breath of the

cool night air.

 

76. EXT. NANCY'S HOUSE AND STREET. NIGHT. 76.

HIGH ANGLE, AT SECOND-STORY LEVEL. NANCY looks directly across

the street to a lighted, open window. Its curtains, sucked out

and waving in the night breeze, give the only motion to the

deserted street.

Then someone pitches out of the dark at her. NANCY gives a YELP

-- then clamps her hand over her mouth as she recognizes GLEN,

balanced precariously on the rose trellis outside her window.

GLEN

Sorry! Saw your light on.

Thought I'd see how you were.

She gets herself together, barely.

NANCY

Sometimes I wish you didn't live

right across the street.

GLEN

Shut up and let me in. You ever

stand on a rose trellis in your

bare feet?

 

76A. INT. NANCY'S ROOM. NIGHT. 76A.

NANCY looks over her shoulder to make sure her mother hasn't

heard. GLEN's already through her window and planted on her

bed. NANCY points to a chair.

NANCY

If you don't mind.

GLEN crosses to the chair and plops down.

GLEN

So. I heard you freaked out

in English class today.

There's no maliciousness in his voice, and the familiar frankness

is actually comforting to NANCY.

NANCY

Guess I did.

GLEN

Haven't slept, have you?

NANCY

Not really.

NANCY tries to smile, but can't fake it very well. GLEN looks

her over.

GLEN

You look dead and rained on, if

you want the ugly truth. And

what you do to your arm?

She shrugs, trying to keep it casual.

NANCY

Burned myself in Englsh class.

She hazards a look in the mirror, and her jaw drops.

NANCY

M'god, I look twenty years old.

(turning back to him)

You have any weird dreams last

night?

GLEN

Slept like a rock.

NANCY

(pleased)

Well at least I have an objective

wall to bounce this off.

(off)

You believe it's possible to dream

about what's going to happen?

GLEN

No.

NANCY

You believe in the Boogey Man?

GLEN

One two, Freddie's coming

for you? No. Rod killed Tina.

he's a fruitcake and you know it.

NANCY

You believe in anything?

GLEN

I believe in you, me, and

Rock and Roll. And I'm not

too sure about you lately.

NANCY thinks.

NANCY

Listen, I got a crazy favor

to ask.

GLEN

Uh-oh...

NANCY

It's nothing too hard or anything.

(beat)

I'm just going to... LOOK

for someone, and... I want

you to be sort of a ...guard.

Okay?

GLEN makes the Twilight Zone sound.

NANCY

Okay?

GLEN

Okay, okay.

(beat)

I think.

She comes very close to him.

NANCY

You won't screw up, right? I

mean, a whole lot might depend

on it.

The way she's looking at him gives him the creeps.

GLEN

Okay, I won't screw up.

77. Nancy takes a deep breath. Then without another word turns off 77.

the TV and the light.

GLEN (IN DARK)

Jesus, it's dark in here.

NANCY

Shhh. Now listen, here's what

we're gonna do...

 

78. EXT. ELM STREET. NIGHT. 78.

FADE UP ON NANCY, still in her pajamas, walking through the

shadowy streets near her home, listening for the slightest

sound. We MOVE with her. But nothing, not even the dog barking

earlier, is there now. NANCY peers into the darkness of lawns

and trees behind her.

NANCY

(stage whisper)

You still there?

Across the street and a distance away, GLEN steps from behind a

tree.

GLEN

Yeah. So?

NANCY

Just checking -- keep out of

sight!

GLEN throws up his hands in exasperation and walks back out of

sight. NANCY turns and looks down between the houses, deep into

a dark alleyway. Then she forces herself to walk into it.

 

79. EXT. ALLEY. NIGHT. 79.

MOVING WITH HER as she makes herself go deeper and deeper into

shadows. Each time she pauses and waits, the MUSIC grows more

threatening and expectant. The feeling is of immense tension --

we're sure the killer will come screaming out on her at any

second.

But he doesn't. In fact absolutely nothing happens, and NANCY

emerges from the far end of the alley unscathed. The only thing

strange is that she now finds her self looking across the mall to

 

80. EXT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT. 80.

The Police Station. It takes her a little by surprise, it just

seems to have appeared.

MUSIC creeps into the NIGHTMARE THEME as NANCY whispers hoarsely

back down the dark alley.

NANCY (CONTD)

Still there?

 

81. EXT. ALLEY. NIGHT. 81.

We only HEAR the DISTANT VOICE, slightly ECHOED.

GLEN'S VOICE (OS)

(yawning)

Still here!

NANCY

On your toes, right?

NANCY stares into the dark trying to see him, but she can't. She

turns back and makes up her mind to move without him in sight.

 

82. EXT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT. 82.

MUSIC MOUNTS as we MOVE WITH NANCY across the lawns to the police

station, creeping to the first lighted window she sees. It's a

low, barred basement window, and NANCY reacts as soon as she

looks through it.

 

83. INT. ROD'S CELL. NIGHT. 83.

NANCY'S POV down into ROD LANE's cell. The boy is on his rough

cot, twitching in disturbed sleep. And a long SHADOW is sliding

across the wall.

A big SHAPE appears in the shadowed corridor outside the boy's

cell, and as IT walks closer NANCY can barely see it's the

shambling, grimly scarred man with the filthy red and yellow

sweater and strange slouch hat pulled across his brow. The

KILLER from all of their nightmares.

And this giant shadow of a man passes through the bars of the

cell, like so much evil Jello. Halfway through he pauses,

turning to check over his shoulder. We see the bars clearly

penetrating his body, going in his head, passing out his ankles.

Then he turns back to ROD and moves forward, and within another

heartbeat is beside the boy.

 

84. EXT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT. 84.

NANCY draws back sharply, swallowing in terror. She looks behind

her for help.

NANCY (CONTD)

Glen.

No answer.

NANCY (CONTD)

(louder)

Glen?!

The street is absolutely deserted. There is no motion, and no

sound save one: the distant but unmistakeable sound of GLEN

SNORING.

NANCY (CONTD)

GLEN!

A beat of silence after the shout's echoes die, then the steady,

boyish SNORES again. NANCY swears under her breath and jerks

back around, forcing herself to look again into ROD's cell.

 

85. INT. ROD'S CELL. 85.

IN HER POV -- the killer picks up ROD's bedsheet and tests it

between his powerful hands. Without thinking, NANCY bangs

against the glass.

NANCY (CONTD)

Rod! Look out!

The KILLER wheels around, locking eyes with NANCY. The girl goes

white. The man's face is in the light, and it's horrible --

seething with hatred and a twisted, insane intelligence.

The hold of those eyes is only broken when ROD rolls up on an

elbow with a deep, troubled GROAN. The instant ROD does this,

the KILLER fades into the shadows in the cell. But even then his

eyes hold on NANCY's until the last second he's visible.

ROD looks around the cell groggily, runs his fingers through his

matted hair, then collapses back on his pillow. No matter how

hard NANCY screams, ROD never once looks at the window. He just

pulls the twisted covers about his shoulders and succumbs once

more to sleep.

And now the bed sheet is no longer on the bed. The KILLER,

materializing out of the shadow again, is holding it between his

hands like a garrote. He looks up and leers at NANCY, then moves

for ROD.

 

86. EXT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT. 86.

ANGLE BACK ON NANCY. She pounds on the window, then turns in

frustration and yells into the night.

NANCY

Glen!!

She turns back to the cell in desperation.

 

87. OMIT OMIT 87.

 

88. INT. ROD'S CELL. 88.

IN NANCY'S POV we look into a cell that is quite deserted save

for ROD. Sleeping peacefully.

 

89. EXT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT. 89.

NANCY pulls back from the window, stunned.

NANCY

I swear...

Suddenly NANCY feels utterly exposed. She shivers, chilled and

vulnerable to the bone in her thin night clothes. She can't

move. It's as if some great nerve between her instincts and body

had been severed. And she hears the SOUND behind her. A sort of

filling-vibrating Scrriiitchh.

MUSIC sneaks in -- the unmistakeable NIGHTMARE THEME, creeping

over her. NANCY forces herself, by sheer will, to look.

90. Ahead of her perhaps twenty-five feet, covered with a thick 90.

plastic body bag through which we can barely see her face, is

TINA. Standing square in the middle of the street. A dark ooze

of BLACK EELS roil out of its bottom, and at its top, the zipper

CHATTERS down and the greenish-white face of TINA lolls out. She

gestures, supplicating, her watery eyes desperate to convey some

desperate message.

The MUSIC FALLS TO A HUSH.

91. NANCY backs away, eyes streaming tears. 91.

NANCY

Glen, where are you! Wake up!

Glen!

DEEP RAGGED VOICE

I'm here.

NANCY twists around in horror at the same instant the KILLER

grabs for her face with his knife-fingers! The girl

intinctively pitches back, then scrambles up and runs like

hell!

NANCY

Glen! Glen!!!

 

92. EXT. ELM STREET. NIGHT. 92.

MOVING WITH NANCY at full gallop, running blind. She crashes

through a sawhorse into a new sidewalk, sinking into the wet

cement over her ankles. The stuff sticks to her legs in long

gluey globs and she can barely pull her feet loose.

The KILLER looms nearby,

mocking her -- his scalpel claws gleaming in the streetlight. He

just misses the girl as she wrenches free and flees again, now so

winded she can only stagger.

MOVING WITH THEM. Time after time NANCY just barely manages to

elude the shadowy form, leaping from his reach by inches and

pouring on more steam. It's too close to even bother screaming

now; and besides, that would take breath she doesn't have. The

only SOUND is of RUNNING FOOTSTEPS, RASPING BREATH and the

KNIFE-FINGERS WHISTLING through the air.

 

93. EXT. NANCY'S HOME. NIGHT. 93.

NANCY tears across her front lawn and into the open front door of

her home, SLAMMING it with all her might. There's a tremendously

satisfying CONCUSSION of wood against doorframe, and the LOCKS

fall shut.

 

94. INT. NANCY'S LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 94.

NANCY

Glennn!!!

But her voice is garbled as if she's under water, and there's no

answer. The only clue to Glen being there at all is his distant

SNORING. Innocent. Persistent. Deep.

NANCY stops, breath in shreds, face smeared with dirt and tears.

Something is clawing the window in the dark of the kitchen.

NANCY looks and catches the MAN prying at the glass with his big

knife-fingers, the sharp blades SIZZLING against the edges of the

glass as they crack it away from the frame. NANCY runs upstairs

in blind panic.

 

95. INT. NANCY'S ROOM. NIGHT. 95.

NANCY darts into her unlit bedroom, slams the door and locks it.

Safe at last.

She listens at the door. Nothing. She crosses to her bed. Next

second the KILLER dives through her window and seizes her in a

shower of shattered glass!

NANCY twists and manages to grab the wrist of his knife hand with

both of hers, barely keeping the blades from her throat.

The two fall backwards in a terrible, gasping struggle, crashing

onto NANCY's bed. Her grip is broken -- the MAN stabs -- NANCY

twists away, backed into a corner of bed and walls. Defenseless,

she snatches a pillow up; the KILLER lashes out -- disemboweling

the pilow and sending a great gush of feathers flying. NANCY

dives for escape in a virtual blizzard.

The KILLER manages to snare her with his other hand, and the two

crash across the bedside table to the floor, the table and all

its contents cascading around them in a whiteout of feathers.

ANGLE AT FLOOR LEVEL -- CLOSE ON NANCY'S AND THE KILLER'S HEADS.

The blades inch towards the girl's face -- the drool of the

grizzled shadow with the horribly scarrred face spills into her

eyes. Feathers are everywhere; MUSIC is absolutely insane!

But just when the points of steel are less than an inch from her

eyes, the old fashioned alarm clock thrown to the floor next to

NANCY's head goes off with a jarring RINGGGGGGG!

96. Instantly the MUSIC STOPS. And a moment later the room is 96.

light.

WIDER as NANCY reels up, blinded by the sudden light, SCREAMING

AND FIGHTING on her bed.

ANGLE ON GLEN, lurching from his own sleep at the frightening

noise. He discovers NANCY pressed in terror against her

headboard, clutching a pillow like a drowning woman would a

straw.

It's an intact pillow, and there isn't a feather in sight.

NANCY stares incredulously at GLEN, then around the room,

untangling herself from her bedclothes. Wary and furious, her

voice hoarse.

NANCY

Glen, you bastard...

The boy looks at his friend in groggy alarm. She's absolutely

livid, more angry than he's ever seen her, and more strange.

GLEN

What I do?

He reaches for her -- she flattens against the wall, eyes hard,

and terribly hurt, too.

NANCY

(low)

I asked you to do just one thing.

Just stay awake and watch me --

Just wake me if it looked like

I was having a bad dream.

(eyes wild)

But you. You shit -- what do

you do -- you fall asleep!

She stops herself, wiping a bit of spittle off her lip, alarmed

at how out of control she's become. And suddenly she breaks,

sinking into her torn bedclothes and rubbing her head.

NANCY (CONTD)

(mostly to herself)

I must be going nuts...

MARGE (OS)

Nancy?

Her mother's door opens OS.

GLEN

Oh, shit.

NANCY composes her voice as best she can.

NANCY

Yes, mother?

MARGE's flip-flops approach outside the door. GLEN barrels out

the window -- NANCY dives for the bed, jams off the light and

disappears under the covers. MARGE, bleary eyed herself, opens

the door and flicks on the light.

MARGE

(beat)

You okay?

NANCY

(weakly)

Yeah. Just had a little dream.

I'm falling right back to sleep.

MARGE

(beat)

Okay... You need anything, just call.

NANCY

Okay.

MARGE closes the door. NANCY immediately sits up and looks at

the window. A single bone-white feather floats down in the

moonlight. Then it's sucked outside and is gone.

 

97. EXT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT. 97.

GLEN's CADILLAC CONVERTABLE careens into the parking lot and

SCREECHES to a stop. GLEN and NANCY jump out and head for the

station.

GLEN

You mind telling me what's

going on?

NANCY's races into the station without answering.

GLEN (CONTD)

Oh, I see. That makes it all

perfectly clear.

 

98. INT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT. 98.

NANCY goes straight to the SERGEANT's desk.

NANCY

Garcia, I want to see Rod

Lane again.

GARCIA winces.

SGT GARCIA

I thought when I took the

night shift I'd have peace

and quiet for a change.

NANCY

It's urgent, we've gotta see Rod.

SGT GARCIA

It's three in the morning.

Your mother know you're out this

late?

NANCY

(faking it)

Of course -- look, at least go

back and look at him. Just see

if he's okay.

GARCIA glances at GLEN.

GLEN

(faking it)

We have reason to think there

might be something weird going

on.

LT THOMPSON (OS)

Oh, no argument on that.

NANCY jumps around at the sound of her father's voice. LT

THOMPSON emerges from his office, rumpled and yawning.

NANCY

Dad -- what you doing here?

LT THOMPSON

It so happens I work here, and

there's an unsolved murder. I

don't like unsolved murders,

especially ones my daughter's

mixed up in -- what are you

doing here at this hour? You're

supposed to be getting some

sleep.

GLEN

Listen, sir, this is serious.

Nancy had a nightmare about Rod

being in danger, or something,

and so she thinks...

He trails off, loosing it under LT THOMPSON's glare. Besides, he

doesn't know exactly what the hell's really going on himself.

GARCIA puts his beefy hand on NANCY's shoulder.

NANCY

I just want to see if he's okay!

SGT GARCIA

Take my word for it, Nancy. The

guy's sleeping like a baby. He's

not going anywhere.

 

99. INT. CELL BLOCK. NIGHT. 99.

ANGLE ON ROD in his cell. He's asleep, all right, but not safely

so. His bedsheet has come alive. It twitches, pulsates, then

snakes towards his throat.

ROD stirs, the sheet falls still; ROD slips into deeper sleep,

and the sheet moves again, completing the noose around his neck!

 

100. INT. BOOKING ROOM. NIGHT. 100.

NANCY makes a move for the cell block --

NANCY

This isn't your average nightmare,

Daddy -- damn it!

The door's locked; she hauls on it in desperation.

LT THOMPSON

Now look, Nancy, don't push

it. You've already rubbed my nose

in sex, drugs and violence -- don't

start throwing in insanity!

NANCY takes that one to heart. She wheels on him and pleads, her

intensity sobering even to him.

NANCY

Just go back and check -- please!

The man takes a beat, then shrugs and nods towards SGT GARCIA.

LT THOMPSON

Okay, Garcia. What the hell.

SGT GARCIA

Right...

(feeling in his pockets)

Now where'd I put the key...

He mumbles backs towards his desk. MUSIC BUILDS as we HOLD ON

NANCY'S FACE.

 

101. INT. ROD'S CELL. NIGHT. 101.

With a terrible SNAP ROD's sheet jerks tight around his neck.

The startled teenager is hauled upright -- eyes popping, face

purple. He claws at the sheet, but despite his strength he can't

get his fingers between the noose and his windpipe. He's dragged

backwards across the cot.

 

102. INT. BOOKING ROOM. NIGHT. 102.

GARCIA finally has the keys. Urged on by NANCY he fumbles with

the lock.

 

103. INT. ROD'S CELL. NIGHT. 103.

ROD'S being dragged backwards, gasping and struggling in vain

against the powerful pull -- right across his cell and up the

wall, too. He clutches blindly at his throat at the far end of

the sheet coils around the bars of the high window. Then there's

a powerful wrench of the sheet, and ROD'S neck SNAPS. The kid's

body sags lifeless.

104. ANGLE THROUGH THE BARS as NANY, GLEN, LT THOMPSON and GARCIA 104.

appear in the corridor outside, the girl sprinting ahead.

NANCY

Rod!

But it's too late; NANCY sinks back in horror as her father and

GARCIA rush into the cell.

LT THOMPSON

Gimme a hand, dammit!

GLEN, pale as the sheet that's killed ROD, climbs to the bars and

unties the knot. ROD slides down over the SERGEANT'S shoulders,

limp as a marrionette with its strings slashed.

SGT GARCIA

Goddamn loco kid -- he didn't

have t'do that -- Madre dios!

They lay ROD at NANCY's feet; a strange Pieta. NANCY's father

looks at her in spooked suspicion.

LT THOMPSON

How'd you know he was gonna do

this?

NANCY says nothing.

FADE TO BLACK

 

105. EXT. FOREST LAWN CEMETERY. DAY. 105.

BURN ON:

THE FOURTH DAY

FADE UP ON a stark afternoon. On a hill of sere grass

overlooking the valley, the casket of ROD LANE is lowered into

its grave.

A small group of FAMILY and FRIENDS watches soberly as the

MINISTER raises his hand in benediction.

MINISTER

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

May God be with this young man's

soul.

ON THE FACES of MARGE, LT THOMPSON, TINA'S MOTHER and ROD'S

PARENTS. Just for a second or two, in looks too rapid for an

outsider to even notice, these adults exchange looks. Furtive,

quick glances that suggest an immense something that they all

share, something beyond even this second death among their

children. Then they are all staring ahead again, as if the

others weren't even there.

MINISTER (CONTD OS)

His life and his death attest to

the Scripture's warning that he who

lives by the sword shall die by

the sword.

ANGLE ON GLEN, watching --

NANCY, standing alone, not believing it for a minute.

MINISTER (CONTD OS)

But let us recall also our Lord's

admonition that we 'Judge not,

lest we be judged.' Let us

attempt only to love. And may

Rod Lane rest in peace.

NANCY

(quietly)

Amen to that much.

The mourners walk away from the grave, MARGE among them. She

pauses near a MAN and two WOMEN in black -- TINA'S MOTHER, ROD'S

PARENTS. They almost, it seems, speak. Then MARGE hurries on.

WE MOVE WITH HER as she's joined by LT THOMPSON. Both are worn

and on edge. THOMPSON absently lights another cigarette,

offering one to MARGE.

LT THOMPSON

How's Nancy doing?

MARGE

I don't think she's slept since

Tina died.

(shakes her head)

She's always been a delicate

kid.

THOMPSON lights her cigarette, attempting some sort of

nonchalance.

LT THOMPSON

She's tougher than you think.

Any idea how she knew Rod was

gonna kill himself?

MARGE

No. All I know is, this reminds

me too much of ten years ago.

THOMPSON blows a plume of smoke against the hard sky and looks

away.

LT THOMPSON

Yeah. Well... Let's not start

digging up bodies just because

we're in a cemetery.

He gives her a look that could cut stone. MARGE toses down her

cigarete and crosses to NANCY. The girl is simply staring off

over the valley.

MARGE

(very gently)

Time to go home, baby.

She moves her away from the brink of the hill.

 

106. EXT. CEMETERY PARKING AREA. DAY. 106.

MARGE opens the door of the station wagon for NANCY. NANCY turns

to them both, speaking in a still, small voice.

NANCY

The killer's still loose,

you know.

She has a wild, Cassandra aspect that sends a chill right up

MARGE'S spine.

LT THOMPSON

You saying somebody else killed

Tina? Who?

NANCY smiles a weird sort of smile.

NANCY

I don't know who he is. But he's

burned, he wears a weird hat, a

red and yellow sweater, real

dirty, and he uses some sort of

knifes he's got made into a sort

of... glove. Like giant finger-

nails.

As NANCY has described this monster from her dream, unseen by

her, the faces of MARGE LT and THOMPSON have drained completely

of color.

LT THOMPSON

(low, even, to MARGE)

I think you should keep Nancy

at home a few days. 'Til she's

really over the shock.

MARGE

I got something better...

(to NANCY)

I'm gonna get you help, baby.

So no one will threaten you

any more.

She takes the girl by the arm and guides her into the car,

locking the door from outside. NANCY never taking her eyes from

her father's as the car bears her away.

FADE TO BLACK

BURN ON:

THE FIFTH DAY

 

107. EXT. UCLA SCHOOL OF MEDICINE. DAY. 107.

FADE UP ON UCLA's WESTWOOD CAMPUS and PAN TO SIGN:

UCLA SCHOOL OF MEDICINE

INSTITUTE FOR THE

STUDY OF SLEEP DISORDERS

 

108. INT. A LABORATORY SLEEPING CHAMBER. 108.

A NURSE applies sencors to the head, breast, arms, and fingers of

NANCY THOMPSON. The girl is lying on a simple broad cot, in her

pajamas. The room is subdued in color and holds only this single

bed. A large mirror set into one wall hides an observation room

beyond.

NANCY

But I just don't feel... ready

to sleep yet. Please, do I

have to?

109. WIDER, REVEALING DR SAMUEL KING, a young, curly-haired internist; 109.

intelligent and wry. He treats NANCY at all times like a young

adult, never patronizing. He winks as the NURSE finishes.

DR KING

Don't worry, you're not gonna

change into Bride of Frankenstein

or anything.

NANCY manages a smile, but she's haggard and visibly thinner.

MARGE, background, looks downright distraught.

DR KING (CONTD)

Nancy have any severe childhood

illnesses? Scarlet Fever?

High temperatures -- concussions?

MARGE

No, nothing.

NANCY

He means, did you ever drop me

on my head.

The doctor and girl share a nervous laugh; MARGE doesn't even

smile.

DR KING

Nightmares are expected after

psychological trauma. Don't

worry, they go away.

MARGE

I sure as hell hope so.

NANCY

I don't see why you couldn't

just give me a pill to keep me

from dreaming...

DR KING

Everyone's got to dream.

If you don't dream, you go...

(he drills his finger

at his temple)

All set?

NANCY

No.

MARGE

They're just simple tests,

Nan. We'll both be right

here.

DR KING

Look, I know it's been fright-

ening, I know your dreams have

seemed real. But... it's

okay. Okay?

MARGE

Please, Nancy. Trust us.

The girls gauges her mother, the doctor, the situation very

carefully. Then lowers her eyes.

NANCY

It's not you I don't trust.

It's...

(gives up)

Okay. Let's do it.

Greatly relieved, MARGE gives NANCY a goodnight kiss, then

follows the doctor through a doorway near the mirror. As soon as

her mother is out of sight, NANCY'S eyes drift to the mirror

itself. In its reflection she sees herself looking back, alone

on the bed.

DISSOLVE TO:

 

110. INT. THE OBSERVATION ROOM. 110.

MARGE and DR KING overlook NANCY's sleeping chamber through the

one-way mirror. And KING monitors the girl even more closely

with a bank of instruments -- a mass of glowing dials, graphs and

meters. His manner with MARGE is slightly more sober.

DR KING

How long's this been going on?

MARGE

Since the murder. She was fine

before that.

DR KING

Not to worry. No signs of path-

ology in Nancy's EEG or pulse

rate. I'd guess what we've got

is a normal young girl who just

happens to have gone through

two days of hell.

MARGE

It's just made her think...

her dreams are real...

KING adjusts a dial, watching the EKG like a hawk.

DR KING

Ever hear the old Buddhist tale

about the King who dreamed he

was a beggar who dreamed he

was a king?

MARGE twitches. Then there's a slight alteration in the sound of

the EKG. KING nods in satisfaction.

DR KING (CONTD)

Okay, good. She's asleep.

MARGE

(immensely relieved)

Thank God.

MUSIC RISES SOLEMNLY, MAJESTICALLY into a haunting transition as

we

DISSOLVE TO

111. A MONTAGE OF SHOTS, of the EKG GRAPH, its inky needles calming, 111.

of a METER tracing the quieting of NANCY's pulse, and of OTHER

INSTRUMENTS, indicating life processes we can only guess. All

smoothing out.

112. CLOSE ON NANCY on TV MONITOR, asleep like the child she is. 112.

Innocent.

MARGE lights a cigarette, angry at her helplessness.

MARGE

What the hell are dreams, anyway?

DR KING

Mysteries. Incredible body

hookus pokus. Truth is we

still don't know what they

are or where they come from.

As for nightmares...

(leans closer)

Did you know that in the last

three years twenty Philipino

refugees in California died

in the middle of nightmares?

Not from heart attacks, either.

They just died.

He gives a "Ah don' know" shrug. MARGE looks out into the

sleeping room. NANCY is a motionless bundle in the middle of the

bed.

113. ANGLE ON A NEEDLE on an EKG dipping to a lower reading. 113.

114. WIDER ANGLE -- the mother and DOCTOR watching. 114.

MARGE

What happened? That needle

sank like a rock.

DR KING

(quietly)

She's entering deep sleep now.

Heart rate's a little high due

to anxiety, but otherwise she's

nicely relaxed. All normal.

She could dream at any time now.

(beat)

Right now she's like a diver

on the bottom of an ocean no

one's mapped yet. Waiting to

see what shows up.

 

115. INT. THE SLEEPING ROOM. 115.

We can see NANCY drift from the initial stage, over the

brink into deep sleep. Her hair falls into her eyes; her face

relaxes; her shoulders curl round her like comforters. THE MUSIC

DEEPENS, and begins to hint at the tones of the NIGHTMARE THEME.

 

116. INT. CONTROL ROOM. DAY. 116.

DR KING and MARGE watch the instruments' every move.

One of the machines begins a slight CHIRPING. KING scans it,

liking what he sees.

DR KING

Okay, she's started to dream.

He leans forward in his chair, like a pilot starting an

instrument approach. MARGE THOMPSON licks her dry lips, fighting

a turn of nausea.

MARGE

How can you tell?

DR KING

R.E.M.'s. Rapid eye movements.

The eyes follow the

dream -- their movement picks

up on this --

He prods a dial with his pencil and scribbles the time on a note

pad.

DR KING (CONTD)

Beta Waves are slowing, too.

She's dreaming, all right.

A good one, too.

MARGE watches the TV MONITOR. It's in extra-close on NANCY's

eyes -- and they're darting beneath the lids, reacting to events

lost behind a skein of flesh and neurons.

KING points to a moving graph. A needle's begun waving lazily

between plus and minus three. The DOCTOR nods, assured.

DR KING (CONTD)

Typical dream parameter. A

nightmare, now, would be plus or

minus five or six; she's just

around three point --

He stops. Outside, visible through the glass, NANCY twists

around. Eyes still closed, she's nevertheless holding her head

in the attitude of prey listening to the first faint sound of the

predator's approach.

MARGE looks from her daughter to the DOCTOR, color draining from

her face.

MARGE

What the hell's this? She

awake or asleep?

The needle of the graph gives a jagged pitch up, plunges, then

surges well above the eight mark. A strange MUSIC CUE --

disonant and threatening, creeps in -- the NIGHTMARE THEME

slurred into awful minors and weird disonance. KING stares at

the gauge in disbelief, rapping his finger on its glass.

DR KING

Can't be. It never gets

this high...

The needle swings even higher, benind.

DR KING (CONTD)

Jesus H. Christ.

He's cut off by the high-pitched KEENING of the girl, the SOUND

cutting through the double thickness of the glass like a lasar.

A warning BEEPER has begun, the instruments light up like a

Christmas tree -- and outside in the sleeping room, NANCY is

contorting as if shot through with a thousand volts. KING knocks

over his chair in his sprint for the door.

 

117. INT. SLEEPING ROOM. 117.

The DOCTOR and MARGE come in on the run -- NANCY's flailing and

screaming as if the devil himself were after her. KING grabs her

to shake her awake;

ANGLE ON NANCY (eyes open) -- looking in terror -- SOUND ECHOED

STRANGELY.

IN HER POV -- dressed in KING'S clothes -- the horribly scarred

MAN reaches out.

WIDER -- (NANCY'S eyes closed in sleep) as the girl's fist shoots

out with incredible force and knocks DR KING flying!

The NURSE and MARGE both descend on her --

and again in her SLEEPING POV we see the MAN stagger for her.

WIDER ON NANCY -- (still in her nightmare) -- fighting like a

tiger with both MARGE and the NURSE -- sending the NURSE

sprawling -- leaving MARGE hanging on for dear life.

ANGLE on the stunned DOCTOR fumbling with a hyperdermic needle,

spilling most of the stuff on himself with his shaking hands --

the SCREAMS AND CURSES of NANCY are deafening and worthy of a

stevador fighting off his worst enemy. Stranger still, her hair

is electrified, standing on end and greying before their very

eyes!

MARGE screams at the top of her lungs.

MARGE

NANCY!!! IT'S MOM -- NANCY!!!!

Some deep bolt of psychic power smacks through the girl, and her

eyes flap open -- they're glazed with terror and fury, but open.

NANCY's awake.

She stares around like a cornered animal in the middle of the

bed, her purple face gasping out gut-wrenching SOBS. The NURSE

and MARGE dare to go back in and hold the sweat-drenched girl as

DR KING comes for her with the needle.

DR KING

Now, this is just going to let

you relax and sleep, Nan --

With incredible swiftness, NANCY backhands the hypodermic into a

far wall, shattering it into a million pieces.

NANCY

No. That's enough sleep.

Her eyes are windows straight into white fire as she locks into

KING'S face. He dabs his split lip, swallowing painfully.

DR KING

Okay, kid. Okay. Fair enough.

He holds out his hand. NANCY at last takes it, and sags back

into her pillow, exhausted. Then KING comes up with blood on his

hand.

He stares at it, dumbfounded, then at the girl. Across her left

forearm, a deep gash is bleeding freely, as if made by a very

sharp instrument.

MARGE

Oh my god, oh my god...

DR KING

(to the NURSE)

Get the kit!

The NURSE scrambles away as the DOCTOR claps his hand over the

wounds. He looks into NANCY's face. What he sees frightens him

even more: NANCY'S haunted, ghost-like eyes turn from him to her

mother, and a terrible, chilling smile opens across NANCY's white

lips.

NANCY

You believe this?

She pulls her free arm from beneath the sheets and reveals a

strange hat, filthy and worn -- the KILLER'S hat. The sight of

it frightens MARGE more than anything that's come before.

MARGE

(deathly pale)

Where the hell did you get that?

NANCY fixes her with Xray eyes.

NANCY

I grabbed it off his head.

MARGE stares at the hat as if it held her whole future, and her

future was a horror.

FADE TO BLACK

 

118. EXT. NANCY'S HOUSE. DAY. 118.

BURN ON

THE SIXTH DAY

FADE UP ON NANCY'S HOUSE, early morning.

 

119. INT. NANCY'S KITCHEN. DAY. 119.

MARGE is on the telephone, the dirty hat in her hand. Nearby is

a nearly empty bottle of gin.

MARGE

She said she snatched it off

his head in a dream.

(listens)

No, I'm not crazy, I've got

the damn thing in my hand!

(listens)

I know we did, we all...

(hears NANCY

approaching)

Gotta go.

She hangs up and stuffs the hat and bottle into a drawer,

screening the action with her body. NANCY enters.

By now the girl has an extraordinary look. Her hair is ashen,

her skin transluscent, and eyes dark-ringed. Her right forearm

is heavily bandaged over the slashes. In short, instead of the

girl next door, we now could be looking at the lunatic from the

next cell. MARGE, though she does her best to hide it, is

downright frightened of her.

MARGE (CONTD)

You didn't sleep, did you?

The doctor says you have to

sleep or you'll --

NANCY pours herself a cup of black coffee.

NANCY

Go even crazier?

MARGE

I don't think you're going

crazy -- and stop drinking

that damn coffee!

NANCY

Did you ask Daddy to have the

hat examined?

MARGE

I threw that filthy thing away --

I don't know what you're trying

to prove with it, but --

NANCY comes closer, her eyes shining with a new sureness.

NANCY

What I learned at the dream

clinic, that's what I'm trying

to prove. Rod didn't kill Tina,

and he didn't hang himself.

It's this guy -- he's after

us in our dreams.

MARGE

But that's just not reality,

Nancy!

120. Furious, NANCY janks open the drawer before MARGE can stop her 120.

and spills the bottle and hat onto the counter.

MARGE grabs away the bottle protectively -- but it's the hat

NANCY goes for. She waves it triumphantly -- demonically.

NANCY

It's real, Mamma. Feel it.

MARGE

(horrified)

Put that damned thing down!

MARGE lunges for it -- NANCY leaps out of reach --

NANCY

His name is even in it -- written

right in here -- Fred Krueger --

Fred Krueger! You know who that

is, Mamma? You better tell me,

cause now he's after me!

MARGE swallows, then persists in the lie.

MARGE

Nancy, trust your mother for

once -- you'll feel better as

soon as you sleep!

NANCY shoots a hard humorless laugh, holding up her slashed arm.

NANCY

You call this feeling better?

Or should I grab a bottle and

veg out with you -- avoid

everything happening to me

by just getting good and loaded --

MARGE slaps her hard.

MARGE

(losing it)

Fred Krueger can't be after you,

Nancy -- he's dead!

The room falls silent, both women staring at the other.

MARGE (CONTD)

(low, raw)

Fred Krueger is dead. Dead and

gone. Believe me, I know. Now

go to bed. I order you, go to

bed.

MARGE snatches the hat away. NANCY is furious, betrayed.

NANCY

You knew about him all

this time, and you've been acting

like he was someone I made up!

MARGE pulls away.

MARGE

You're sick, Nancy. Imagining

things. You need to sleep,

it's as simple as that.

NANCY wheels and smashes MARGE'S bottle of gin in the sink.

NANCY

Screw sleep!

MARGE (CONTD)

Nancy!

But NANCY runs past her mother for the front door.

MARGE (CONTD)

Nancy -- it's only a nightmare!

NANCY turns in the doorway.

NANCY

That's enough!

On the door SLAM, we

CUT TO

 

121. EXT. SHAKESPEARE BRIDGE. DAY. 121.

ANGLE ON A NEIGHBORHOOD STREET. We hear GLEN's VOICE and PAN UP

to REVEAL NANCY and GLEN high above, two tiny figures walking

across this strange white bridge in old Los Angeles. CAMERA

BEGINS A SLOW ZOOM.

GLEN

Whenever I get nervous I eat.

NANCY

And if you can't do that, you

sleep.

GLEN

Used to. Not anymore.

GLEN jams more Big Mack into his face. By now our ZOOM reveals

he's attacking a huge bag of Big Macks, and furtively eyeing

NANCY. The girl's hair is startlingly white in the sunlight.

She's reading a book, hardly paying attention.

GLEN (CONTD)

You ever read about the Balinese

way of dreaming?

NANCY

No.

GLEN

They got a whole system they

call 'dream skills'. So, if

you have a nightmare, for

instance like falling, right?

NANCY

Yeah.

GLEN

Instead of screaming and getting

nuts, you say, okay, I'm gonna

make up my mind that I fall

into a magic world where I can

get something special, like a

poem or song.

(grins hopefully)

They get all their art literature

from dreams. Just wake up and

write it down. Dreamskills.

He stops, seeing the look on NANCY's face. Our ZOOM is much

closer now, a wide medium, and still coming in on the kids.

NANCY

And what if they meet a monster

in their dream? Then what?

GLEN

They turn their back on it.

(grins hopefully)

Takes away its energy, and

it disappears.

NANCY

What happens if they don't do

that?

GLEN

(shrugs)

I guess those people don't

wake up to tell what happens.

NANCY

Great.

She leans over the railing, poking her face back into her book.

GLEN tips its cover and reads its title. OUR ZOOM IS STILL

MOVING CLOSER, a MEDIUM CLOSE UP NOW.

GLEN

'Booby Traps and Improvised

Anti-personel Devices'!

NANCY

I found it at this neat

survivalist bookstore on

Ventura.

GLEN

(shocked)

Well what you reading it for?

OUR ZOOM LOCKS IN ON A TIGHT TWO ON THEIR FACES, NANCY's grimly

determined.

NANCY

I'm into survival.

She walks away, OUT OF FRAME, leaving GLEN watching after her in

astonishment.

GLEN

She's starting to scare the

living shit out of me.

 

122. EXT. ELM STREET/NANCY'S HOME/EVENING 122.

ANGLE ACROSS NANCY'S "TREE LAWN", the grass between

the sidewalk and the street, in the general direction

of GLEN's home. This ANGLE doesn't quite reveal

Nancy's house.

FOREGROUND is a utility truck in which a half dozen

Hispanic WORKERS are loading tools, extension cords

and hardware. They

look like they've put in one hell of a hard day's work.

MARGE appears and hands a check to the FOREMAN of the crew, a

white guy in clean coveralls and a gold chain. He scrutinizes

it.

FOREMAN

And the other...

MARGE forks over a wad of cash, hands trembling in her

half-drunk, helpless rage.

MARGE

Where's your mask and gun?

The FOREMAN counts the money swiftly.

FOREMAN

Don't bust my chops, lady.

If the city found out I put

'em in without inside releases

I'd loose my license.

He shoves the money in his pocket and climbs in his truck. MARGE

EXITS FRAME for her house.

PAN WITH THE TRUCK as it pulls away, THEN PICK UP NANCY, walking

across the street from the corner. Alone. Dispirited. She

lifts her eyes to her home and stops in her tracks.

NANCY

Oh gross...

123. WIDENING TO REVEAL THE HOUSE as NANCY walks across her front 123.

yard. Every single window has been covered with brand-new

ornamental iron bars, bolted deeply into their frames.

CLOSER, AT A WINDOW. NANCY gives a set of bars a powerful

shake. They don't budge. Then girl looks up and sees even the

window to her second floor bedroom is barred. And the rose

trellis has been ripped down and heaped at the foundation in a

tangle of wood, thorns and broken flowers.

 

124. INT. MARGE'S ROOM. EVENING. 124.

ANGLE ON THE DOORWAY INTO THE HALL. Easy listening MUSIC wafts

through the air. NANCY appears in the doorway.

NANCY (OS)

Mom, what's with the bars!?

125. REVERSE to MARGE, propped against the headboard of her bed, a 125.

crooked shadow in the gloom. A fresh bottle of Gin glints in her

hand.

NANCY

Oh, Mom...

The girl crosses and reaches gently for the bottle. MARGE

snatches it away.

MARGE

'S'mine...

She rocks the bottle in her arms.

NANCY

What's with the bars?

MARGE

S'curity.

NANCY sits on the bed, a surprising compassion entering her

voice.

NANCY

Mom, I want to know what you

know about Fred Krueger.

MARGE

Dead and gone.

NANCY

I want to know how, where --

if you don't tell me, I'm going

to call daddy.

MARGE gives a laugh -- a rasping chachination from deep in her

chest.

MARGE (CONTD)

Your father the cop. That's a

good one.

(colder)

Forget Fred Krueger. You don't

want to know, believe me.

NANCY

I do want to know. He's not

dead and gone -- he's after me

and if I sleep he'll get me!

I've got to know!

MARGE blinks at her a moment, then cracks a terrible, crooked

grin.

MARGE

All right.

 

126. INT. NANCY'S CELLAR/NIGHT 126.

MARGE drags NANCY headlong down the cellar stairs and across the

room with a crazy fury, twisting her down near the foundation.

And she thrusts her face so close to her daughter's that NANCY

reels from the alcohol.

MARGE

You want to know who Fred

Krueger was? He was a filthy

child killer who got at least

twenty kids, kids from our

area, kids we all knew. It

drove us all crazy when we

didn't know who was doing it --

but it was even worse when

they caught him.

MARGE draws herself up with a shake.

MARGE (CONTD)

Oh lawyers got fat and the judge

got famous, but someone forgot to

sign the search warrant in the

right place, and Fred Krueger

was free, just like that.

NANCY

So he's alive?

MARGE smiles grimly.

MARGE

He wouldn've stopped. The

bastard would've got more

kids first chance he got --

they found nearly ten bodies

in his boiler room as it

was. But the law couldn't

touch him.

At the mention of "boiler room", NANCY gives a shake. MARGE

misses this, too busy taking a pull on the bottle that's never

left her hand.

MARGE (CONTD)

What was needed were some private

citizens willing to do what had

to be done.

She reels slowly, looking at NANCY is defiance.

NANCY

(hushed)

What did you do, mother?

MARGE cradles the bottle.

MARGE

Bunch of us parents tracked him

down after they let him go. Found

him in an old boiler room, just

like before. Saw him lying there

in that caked red and yellow sweater

he always wore, drunk an' asleep

with his weird knives by his side...

NANCY

(dreading it)

Go on...

MARGE reaches over and taps a dusty two-gallon jug of gasoline

near the lawn mower.

MARGE

We poured gasoline all around

the place, left a trail out the

door, locked the door, then...

She mimes striking a match --

MARGE (CONTD)

WHOOSH!!!

Her arms shoot up and her eyes go wide with the light of that

fire. There's awe in her voice. Then she drops her arms.

MARGE (CONTD)

(hushed, remembering)

But just when it seemed not

even the devil could live

in there any more -- he crashed

out like a banshee, all on fire

-- swinging those fingerknives

every which direction and

screaming he... he was going

to get us by killing all our

kids...

She stops with a sudden quake and drinks for a long moment. But

the intake doesn't hide the image. Her face bathed in tears, she

looks at her daughter and shakes her head.

MARGE (CONTD)

There were all those men, Nancy,

even your father, oh yes, even

him. But none could do what

had to be done -- Krueger rolling

and screaming so loud the whole

state could hear -- no one could

take your father's gun and kill

him good and proper except me.

She sweeps her hand across the air in a terrific slash, then

stops, her hand shaking, her voice hoarse and terrified. She

looks at her daughter, begging.

MARGE (CONTD)

So he's dead Nan. He can't

get you. Mommy killed him.

For someone who started this film at a very young seventeen,

NANCY's now the battle-tempered veteran as she takes her mother

in her arms and rocks her.

NANCY

Who was there? Were Tina's

parents there? Were Rod's?

MARGE sags back.

MARGE

Sure, and Glen's. All of us.

But that's in the past now,

baby. Really. It's over.

(slyly)

We even took his knives.

The woman twists around and opens the door on an old furnace -- a

furnace unused since the newer gas one nearby was put in. She

fishes inside the cavity -- as then we hear a touch of the

familiar 'SCRRIITCH'. Next moment she pulls out an object

wrapped in rags, opens it and displays the long, rusted blades

and their glove-like apparatus.

MARGE (CONTD)

See?

NANCY stares at the damn things, chilled.

NANCY

All these years you've kept those

things buried down here? In our

own house?

MARGE (CONTD)

Proof he's declawed. As for him,

we buried him good and deep.

MARGE shoves the knives into their hiding place, closes the

little iron door.

MARGE (CONTD)

So's okay, you can sleep.

She lurches up and staggers upstairs.

NANCY shivers and looks down at her arm. The cut beneath her

bandage has begun to bleed again. And from inside the furnace,

as if from deep below, the PULSING of the boundless

nightmare-boiler room can be faintly heard.

 

127. EXT. ELM STREET. NIGHT. 127.

WIDE ON THE STREET AND BOTH HOUSES, GLEN's on the right, NANCY's

on the left. A TELEPHONE RINGS. ZOOM IN ON GLEN'S UPSTAIRS

BEDROOM WINDOW.

 

128. INT. GLEN'S & NANCY'S BEDROOMS - INTERCUT. NIGHT. 128.

129. GLEN, yawning, crosses and picks up his telephone. 129.

GLEN

Hello?

NANCY (telephone)

Hi.

GLEN

Oh. Hi, how y'doing?

NANCY looks out the window and touches her hair.

NANCY (CONTD)

Fine. Stand by your window

so I can see you. You sound

a million miles away.

In the lighted window across the way, she can SEE GLEN move into

sight. In his shot, we can SEE NANCY step into her window behind

the bars.

NANCY (CONTD)

Much better.

GLEN

I heard your ma went ape at the

security store today. You look

like the Prisoner of Zenda or

something. How long's it been

since you slept?

NANCY

Coming up on the seventh day. It's

okay, I checked Guiness. The

record's eleven, and I'll beat

that if I have to.

(beat)

Listen, I... I know who he is.

GLEN

Who?

NANCY

The killer.

GLEN

You do?

NANCY

Yeah, and if he gets me, I'm

pretty sure you're next.

GLEN is appalled.

GLEN

Me!? Why would anyone want to

kill me?!

NANCY

Don't ask -- just give me some

help nailing this guy when I

bring him out.

GLEN pales.

GLEN

Bring him out of what?

NANCY

My dream.

GLEN

How you plan to do that?

NANCY

Just like I did the hat. Have

a hold of the sucker when you

wake me up.

GLEN

Me?

(switching back to a more

comfortable reality)

Wait a minute, you can't bring

someone out of a dream!

NANCY

If I can't, then you all can

relax, because it'll just be a

simple case of me being nuts.

GLEN

I can save you the trouble.

You're nutty as a fruitcake.

I love you anyway.

NANCY

Good, then you won't mind cold-cocking

this guy when I bring him out.

GLEN

What!?

NANCY

(simplicity itself)

You heard me. I grab him in the

dream -- you see me struggling

so you wake me up. We both come

out, you cold cock the fucker,

and we got him. Clever, huh?

GLEN

You crazy? Hit him with what?

NANCY

You're a jock. You must have

a baseball bat or something.

Come to my window at midnight.

And meanwhile...

GLEN

(weakly)

Meanwhile..?

NANCY

Meanwhile whatever you do

don't fall asleep. Midnight.

She hangs up. GLEN's eyes bug out.

GLEN

Holy shit! Midnight. Baseball

bats and boogemen. Unfucking

real.

 

130. OMIT OMIT 130.

131. EXT. THE VALLEY AND HILLS. NIGHT. 131.

HIGH, WIDE SHOT. The moon is above the horizon. A cool wind

slides a bank of white fog inland. The valley and its lights

stretch forever, an endless net of illumination and darkness. A

coyote HOWLS on the dark hill.

 

132. EXT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT. 132.

A palm frond scuttles across the center of the parking lot. LT

THOMPSON arrives in an unmarked car.

COP (passing)

Lieutenant Thompson -- what

you doing in at this time?

LT THOMPSON

Can't sleep, thought I'd come

break up the poker game.

The COP laughs and goes his way. THOMPSON's smile evaporates.

 

133. INT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT. 133.

THOMPSON enters and checks the log. Nearby, SGT GARCIA pours

coffee.

SERGEANT GARCIA

If it was any more quiet we

could hear owls farting.

LT THOMPSON

Is quiet, isn't it?

SERGEANT GARCIA

(too casually)

How's your girl?

THOMPSON looks at the Desk sergeant a moment, then tosses down

the log.

LT THOMPSON

She's sensible. She'll sleep

sooner or later.

 

134. EXT. ELM STREET. NIGHT. 134.

The neighborhood is utterly still, most of the homes already

dark. But not NANCY's. Or GLEN's.

ZOOM TO GLEN'S LIGHTED LIVING ROOM WINDOW.

 

135. INT. GLEN'S LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 135.

GLEN's father watches eleven o'clocks news, a dreary FILM CLIP

(STOCK) of war and refugees in a far-away land.

MR LANTZ takes a pull on his Bud.

MR LANTZ

You'd think they'd have some-

thing 'bout the Lane kid hanging

himself.

MRS LANTZ walks through the room, drying her hands on a

dishtowel.

MRS LANTZ

Maybe we're all making more out

of it than we should.

She heads upstairs. MR LANTZ pops the automatic tuner. CARSON

blinks ON.

CARSON (TV)

I wouldn't touch that line with

a ten foot pole.

ED MCMAHON and the AUDIENCE laugh in delight.

 

136. INT. GLEN'S HOUSE/UPSTAIRS CORRIDOR. NIGHT. 136.

MRS LANTZ comes along the upstairs hall and knocks gently at a

closed door.

MRS LANTZ

Glen? you all right?

She puts her ear to the door and listens.

MRS LANTZ (CONTD)

Glen honey?

No answer.

 

137. INT. GLEN'S ROOM. NIGHT. 137.

GLEN lies sprawled across the bed, long legs flung over the end,

head not visible.

His mother enters. She looks at the boy, turns off the TV.

Looks at him again.

From this angle she can see his head, earphones crammed over it

rasping their tinny noise. But no movement from the kid at all.

MRS LANTZ crosses and pokes him in the ribs. GLEN lurches up,

arms windmilling.

GLEN

Whuu?

He refocuses his eyes, takes off his earphones.

MRS LANTZ

How can you listen to Carson and

a record at the same time?

GLEN swings his legs over the edge of the bed and shakes his head

to clear the cobwebs.

GLEN

Wasn't listening to the tube,

just watching. Miss Nude

America's supposed to be on

tonight.

MRS LANTZ

Well how you gonna hear what

she says?

GLEN

Who cares what she says?

The mother gives up.

MRS LANTZ

You should get to sleep soon,

Glen. It's almost midnight.

Goodness knows we've all had

enough of a time the last few

days...

GLEN

I will, Mom...in a while.

You guys turning in?

MRS LANTZ

Pretty soon.

His MOTHER sighs and goes out, closing the door behind her. GLEN

flips the TV back on and glances at the clock.

138. INSERT OF CLOCK. It's 11:42. 138.

139. TIGHT ON GLEN's face. He clamps the earphones back on, and turns 139.

the volume up high. The MUSIC is so loud we can hear it

resonating inside his skull.

CAMERA MOVES PAST GLEN to his window, then ZOOMS through to:

 

140. EXT. ELM STREET / NANCY'S HOUSE. NIGHT. 140.

CONTINUE ZOOMING into the LIGHTED window of NANCY's barred second

floor bedroom and

CUT TO:

141. INT. NANCY'S ROOM. NIGHT 141.

CLOSE ON MARGE, weaving on the edge of NANCY's bed, stroking

the girl's hair. NANCY's still something of a wreck, but less

than MARGE.

MARGE

We'll go away, take a vacation.

Get your hair colored nice, the

way it was. No one will ever

know.

(sniffs)

This whole room smells of coffee,

y'know?

She gathers up NANCY's coffee cups and empty NoDoz boxes, leans

down and kisses her.

MARGE (CONTD)

It's all over now, baby. The

nightmare's over. Please.

NANCY nods her head, half stubborn, half sadly. She can barely

keep her eyes open now.

NANCY

Okay.

She scrunches into her pillow. MARGE smiles haggardly and shuts

off the light, taking the coffee pot with her as she leaves.

NANCY (CONTD)

Night-night.

MARGE smiles, relieved. The girl pulls the blanket around her

shoulders. Her eyes flutter closed, her breathing becomes regular

and deep. Once again she's the litle girl MARGE fantasizes she

is.

The mother tiptoes out of the room, closing the door behind her.

HOLD ON NANCY's sleeping face as the DOOR CLOSES. Her eyes

remain closed another beat, then open wide.

She quietly jumps out of bed and shakes herself savagely to

scatter the sleep settling so quickly.

Still in the dark, she fishes a full electric coffepot from under

her bed and pours herself a fresh fix into a mug she digs from

beneath her pillow. The face illuminated by the neon light on the

pot is set in absolute determination.

NANCY drains the cup, then crosses to her closet, retrieves a

pitcher of ice water from behind a heap of clothes and splashes

her eyes and the back of her neck. That done she eases open her

window and presses her face to the bars, sucking in cool night

air until every shred of sleep is gone from her brain.

Then she starts pulling on clothes.

 

142. INT. NANCY'S HOUSE/DOWNSTAIRS. NIGHT. 142.

ANGLE ON MARGE as she checks the lock on the backdoor. Firm.

143. ANGLE IN THE LIVING ROOM as she pads through the darkened house, 143.

feels her way to a wall of shelves and takes down a book. Then

another, and a third. Then reaches in and fishes out a bottle of

gin.

 

144. EXT. NANCY'S HOUSE AND ELM STREET. NIGHT. 144.

The sky has gathered in greater darkness. LOW, DISTANT THUNDER

rolls around the horizon like a great drum.

ANGLE ON NANCY'S HOUSE from across the street. The moon glints

off the barred windows. CAMERA ZOOMS to NANCY's window. The

imprisoned girl hovers in the darkness behind the grill like a

ghost, her eyes turned towards GLEN's. Then she switches to

something much CLOSER TO CAMERA ANGLE, and she draws back.

145. REVERSE ON GLEN's father, standing on the front porch of his 145.

home, also in the shadows, looking straight across and up at

NANCY. He draws on his cigarette; his face glows red.

146. NANCY pulls down the shade. 146.

147. GLEN's father grinds the cigarette beneath his shoe. 147.

MRS LANTZ

Shouldn't stare.

As the man turns our SHOT WIDENS TO REVEAL MRS LANTZ.

MR LANTZ

Know what I think? I think

that kid's some kinda lunatic.

The woman spoons more sweetness into her mouth and rubs her

forehead.

MRS LANTZ

Shouldn't say such a thing about

the poor child. If you mean the

bars, Marge's just being cautious,

her being alone and Nancy acting

so nervous lately.

The woman rises and pulls him gently towards the living room. As

he goes inside he takes one last look.

MR LANTZ (CONTD)

Well, she ain't gonna hang around

our boy no more.

Once the two are inside, the door is locked.

 

148. INT. NANCY'S ROOM. NIGHT. 148.

CLOSE ON NANCY's face. VERY CLOSE. Her eyes stare ahead,

red-rimmed, anxious. She picks absently at the thick bandage

covering her forearm. The long cuts from Fred Krueger's fingers

are bleeding again, but she doesn't even care anymore. Too late

to sweat the small stuff. She crosses the room.

On the bedside table with the nearly empty Pyrex coffee maker,

the empty cup and the empty box of No-Doz, is her old fashioned

alarm clock, and a phone.

NANCY pours herself the last of the coffee and drinks it to the

dregs, then looks to the clock.

INSERT CLOCK -- ten minutes to midnight.

NANCY'S eyes go to the door.

WIDER. Fully clothed and in a jacket now, she creeps to the door

and cracks it, just to make sure. Then freezes.

 

149. INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE NANCY'S DOOR. 149.

IN NANCY'S POV through the door we see MARGE, rummaging around in

the linen closet not fifteen feet away. There's no way NANCY can

get past her. The woman pulls out a full bottle of gin in

satisfaction and begins fumbling with its cap.

 

150. INT. NANCY'S ROOM. NIGHT. 150.

NANCY eases the door closed again and sinks to the key hole,

watching through it with a sinking heart.

NANCY

(very quiet, very intense)

Hang on GLEN...

 

151. INT. GLEN'S ROOM. NIGHT. 151.

GLEN, coat now on, goes to his window, checking.

 

152. INT. ELM STREET. NIGHT. 152.

GLEN'S POV -- NANCY'S porch is deserted; front door closed,

lights out. No sign of NANCY.

 

153. INT. GLEN'S ROOM. NIGHT. 153.

GLEN shrugs, takes off his jacket and plops back onto his bed.

GLEN

Well, I'm not gonna risk

sneaking out until she does.

He puts the earphones back on.

 

154. INT. NANCY'S ROOM. NIGHT. 154.

Absolutely frustrated, NANCY turns from the keyhole to the

window. She opens the blind and eases back the curtain.

 

155. EXT. ELM STREET. NIGHT.

IN NANCY'S POV THROUGH THE BARS we ZOOM directly across to GLEN's

window.

 

156. INT. GLEN'S ROOM. NIGHT. 156.

GLEN lies on his bed, fully clothed, earphones over his ears,

CARSON droning from the TV. And the boy's eyes begin to droop.

 

157. INT. NANCY'S BEDROOM. NIGHT. 157.

NANCY picks up her phone, bites her lip, then begins dialing.

 

158. INT. GLEN'S ROOM. NIGHT. 158.

TIGHT ON PHONE as it begins RINGING loudly.

WIDER SHOT, revealing GLEN asleep BACKGROUND, the MUSIC still

LOUD in his earphones.

 

159. INT. GLEN'S LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 159.

RINGING here, too, just as MR LANTZ is turning out the lights for

bed. He stops in the dark, scowling.

MR LANTZ

Who at this hour?

He refuses to turn the light back on. His wife picks her way to

the telephone.

MRS LANTZ

Hello?

(listens, frowns

slightly)

Oh... Hold on.

(covers the mouthpiece)

It's her. She wants to talk to

Glen.

The father crosses to the telephone, suspicious.

MR LANTZ

(whispering)

About what?

MRS LANTZ

(into phone)

What's this about, Nancy?

She listens, covers up again.

MRS LANTZ (CONTD)

She says it's private. Very

private and very important.

MR LANTZ grabs the telephone from his wife and barks into it.

MR LANTZ

Glen's asleep. Talk to him

tomorrow!

He SLAMS down the telephone with a grunt of satisfaction to his

wife.

MR LANTZ (CONTD)

Just got to be firm with kids,

is all.

Then as a refinement he takes the phone off the hook and lays it

on the table.

 

160. INT. NANCY'S ROOM. NIGHT. 160.

NANCY dials again. This time she gets a BUSY SIGNAL. She slams

the phone down in frustration and looks out the window.

NANCY

Glen. Don't fall asleep...

She goes and sits on the bed, propping her chin on her fists.

161. Yawns. The TELEPHONE RINGS. 161.

NANCY snatches it up.

NANCY

Glen?

TIGHT ON HER, ZOOMING EVEN CLOSER ON HER EAR AND THE EARPIECE as

we HEAR the awful SCRITCHING SCRAPE of STEEL FINGERKNIVES.

NANCY slaps the phone down as if it were diseased -- then, in

pure rage, rips the thing's cord from the wall.

Spent instantly, she puts the receiver back on the cradle and

lays it on her bed, chiding herself.

NANCY

Brilliant. Now what if Glen

calls?

She wraps the phone cord around the useless machine and puts it

on her bed, then sneaks back to the door. This time she gives an

expression of relief, and opens the door. MARGE is gone.

Then the TELEPHONE RINGS again.

CAMERA MOVES IN ON NANCY as she turns slowly.

162. REVERSE IN HER POV. THE TELEPHONE RINGS again, despite the fact 162.

that the end of its janked-out cord is clearly visible. The

NIGHTMARE MUSIC THEME slips right up our spines.

BACK ON NANCY. She starts to shake. She goes to the telephone

as we WIDEN, unwraps it as it RINGS even louder. She's shaking

so hard by now she can barely manage to lift the receiver. MOVE

IN CLOSE ON HER, so close we can HEAR her teeth chattering as she

brings the phone to her ear.

NANCY (CONTD)

Hello?

The unmistakeable VOICE of FRED KRUEGER comes over the phone,

garbled by time and unknown dimensions, but clear enough.

KRUEGER (FILTER)

(triumphant)

I'm your boyfriend now...

CLOSE ON THE MOUTHPIECE. It's changed from a normal telephone

mouthpiece to an actual mouth -- Fred Krueger's mouth -- and his

long, slick tongue flicks out and darts into the startled girl's

mouth!

WIDER -- as NANCY explodes from her micro-dream -- absolutely

mad. She jerks the telephone away from her and smashes it

against her wall, then attacks it with her feet and hands,

smashing it to smithereens.

ANGLE ON THE TELEPHONE PIECES. Normal pieces of a normal

telephone.

She pinches herself hard -- until tears come and her flesh is

nearly bleeding.

NANCY

I'm awake, I am awake. This is

not a dream! I am --

She stops, realizing what Krueger meant.

NANCY (CONTD)

My boyfriend...!

 

163. INT. NANCY'S LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 163.

NANCY barrels down the stairs and across the darkened living room

to the front door.

It takes her a moment of tugging and fumbling to realize the

deadbolt is locked from inside. And there's no key in it now.

She races to a porch window and throws it open, shaking and

banging on the bars like a mad woman. But there's no getting

through. She staggers back, stymied and furious. Then somebody

moves behind her in the dark.

VOICE (OS)

Locked.

NANCY jumps around in shock. Her mother has posted herself on

the couch with her bottle.

NANCY

(furious)

Give me the key, mother.

MARGE

I don't even have it on me,

so forget it.

The word is final. NANCY runs past the woman to the back door,

to one window after the other, shaking bars and slamming locks

and SCREAMING in teenage fury. But it's no good. The house is

her prison.

MARGE (CONTD)

(drunk satisfaction)

Paid the guy damn good to make

sure you stayed put. You ain't

goin' nowhere, kid. You're

gonna sleep tonight if it kills

me.

NANCY clenches her fists and screams at the top of her lungs, a

heart-wrenching, eardrum-breaking cry of love in despair --

NANCY

GLEEENNNNNN!

SMASH CUT TO:

164. INT. GLEN'S ROOM. NIGHT. 164.

CLOSE ON GLEN'S FROM DIRECTLY ABOVE. The MUSIC is tinny from the

earphones, the TV SOUND DISTANT AND ECHOED. The boy is breathing

deeply now, slowly and gently. Then, unmistakeably, he begins to

SNORE. Very faintly, far in the background, we can hear NANCY.

NANCY (OS)

Glen!! Don't fall asleeeeeep!

CAMERA PULLS BACK AND STRAIGHT UP as the SNORES merge with a

weird, unsettling MUSIC CUE. The boy lies sprawled, still

clothed, in the middle of his bed. Save for the bedside lamp,

the room is dark.

FULL WIDE ANGLE FROM THIS HIGH SPOT looking down at him as from

the eyes of some great fly hung on the ceiling. THE MUSIC

REACHES A TERRIFYING PITCH OF ANTICIPATION -- THEN STOPS

ABRUPTLY.

There's a heartbeat's pause. Then with tremendous force, two

powerful arms shoot up beneath the red and yellow bedspread and

grab GLEN around the waist!

Next moment the young man's body is dragged straight down into

the bed, as if some huge beast had grabbed him and heaved him

down! His feet and his arms shoot up -- there's another hauling

yank -- and the boy disappears except for his hands and fingers

-- down into the pit in the middle of the bed! His hands are

last to go, clawing for a hold. But soon they vanish as well,

dragging blankets and bedsheets, wires and stereo across the

caved-in bed and into the abyss.

There's HIDEOUS SCREECHING of MUSIC jamming in with GLEN's

ECHOING SCREAMS -- then an unholy, sudden silence.

Next moment what's left of GLEN is vomited up from the pit of the

nightmare bed...a horrible mess of blood and bone and hair and

wires...streaming out and over the bed. Then the pit in the bed

is gone as if it were never there.

Drawn by the terribly screams and struggle, GLEN's mother bursts

into the room. The women stares for one moment of horrified

disbelief, then reels back and lets out the most god-awful SCREAM

imaginable. The cry splits the night.

 

165. EXT. ELM STREET. NIGHT. 165.

The SOUND of the SCREAM CROSS-FADES WITH the WAIL of the

AMBULANCE as it screeches to a halt at the curb, followed by two

BLACK AND WHITES and an UNMARKED CAR. Uniformed POLICEMEN spill

out FOREGROUND.

LT THOMPSON and PARKER exit the unmarked car. By habit or by

premonition THOMPSON glances at the house that was his home. His

eye is caught by a movement; his daughter is at her upstairs

window, white-haired, hollow-eyed, looking down on him through

her bars. She gives a little wave.

Unnerved, THOMPSON waves back, then walks rapidly for GLEN's

home. MR LANTZ, pale as a ghost himself, waits on the porch; we

can hear the mother's WAILING inside.

 

166. INT. NANCY'S ROOM. NIGHT. 166.

CLOSE ON NANCY'S BIG OLD WINDUP ALARM CLOCK. Its big and little

hands sweep together at midnight.

BURN ON:

THE NINTH DAY

There's a BABBLE of POLICE RADIOS, SIRENS WINDING DOWN, RUNNING

FOOT-STEPS, SHOUTS, NEIGHBORHOOD KIDS and DOGS BARKING as CAMERA

LIFTS TO NANCY'S FACE. Set. Unafraid. Ruthless.

The girl pulls the window shade on it all, then looks at her

bed.

NANCY

Okay, Krueger, you bastard.

We play in your court.

 

167. INT. GLEN'S LIVING ROOM/NANCY'S KITCHEN -- INTERCUT. NIGHT. 167.

168. LT THOMPSON is halfway across the living room when he stops. 168.

Something dark and red is welling from a crack in the ceiling.

One of his men is rigging a bucket beneah to catch the leaking.

The telephone rings and PARKER picks it up.

PARKER

Lieutenant. It's your daughter.

Says it's urgent.

THOMPSON turns away from the dripping.

LT THOMPSON

(low)

Tell her I'm not here, tell

her...

PARKER

Uh, she just saw you, sir...

THOMPSON nods, crosses and picks up the telephone. SCREEN

SPLITS; we see both.

LT THOMPSON (CONTD)

Hello Nancy.

NANCY

Hi daddy. I know what happened.

LT THOMPSON

Then you know more than I do --

I haven't even been upstairs.

NANCY

(guessing)

You know he's dead though, right?

THOMPSON debates, then admits it.

LT THOMPSON

Yeah, apparantly he's dead.

How the hell'd you know?

A tear coarses down NANCY's cheek, but her voice remains firm.

NANCY

I've got a proposition for

you. Listen very carefully,

please.

LT THOMPSON

Nan, I --

NANCY

Please. I'm gonna go get

the guy who did it and bring

him to you. I just need you

be right there to arrest him.

Okay?

LT THOMPSON

Just tell me who did it and

I'll go get him, baby.

NANCY

Fred Krueger did it, Daddy,

and only I can get him. It's

my nightmare he comes to.

The detective flinches at the name.

LT THOMPSON

Where'd you hear about Krueger --

NANCY presses, very firm, very rational.

NANCY

-- I want you to come over here

and break the door down exactly

twenty minutes from now -- can

you do that?

LT THOMPSON

Sure, but...

NANCY

That'll be exactly half past

midnight. Time for me to fall

asleep and find him.

LT THOMPSON

Sure, sure, honey. You just

do that -- get yourself some

sleep -- that's what I've been

saying all along.

NANCY

And you'll be here to catch

him, right?

PARKER

Lieutenant -- they're waiting

upstairs.

THOMPSON waves curtly, still speaking to NANCY.

LT THOMPSON

Sure, okay, I'll be there.

Now you just turn in and get

some rest, sweetheart. Please.

Deal?

NANCY

Deal.

NANCY hangs up. LT THOMPSON starts upstairs. But then he stops,

and as an afterthought he could never really explain, turns to

PARKER.

LT THOMPSON (CONTD)

Get outside and watch her house.

If you see anything funny call

me.

PARKER

'Anything funny' like what?

THOMPSON shakes his head, embarassed.

LT THOMPSON

I don't know -- but one thing

for sure, I don't want her

coming over here. She's way

too far gone to be able to

to handle this.

As PARKER exits, ANGLE CUTS TO NANCY'S KITCHEN as the girl hangs

up and sinks back agiainst the wall, trapped by her own

resolution. She looks at her watch.

169. INSERT -- five past midnight. NANCY switches modes to stopwatch 169.

and sets the COUNTDOWN going at twenty-five minutes.

 

170. INT. GLEN'S BEDROOM. NIGHT. 170.

LT THOMPSON steps into GLEN's room, anxious to be done with it.

He hits a wall of stench and horror even before he takes it in

with his eyes, and as soon as he sees the bed he claps his hand

over his mouth, pivots and walks right back into the hallway.

 

171. INT. HALLWAY. NIGHT. 171.

He sags against the wall, unable to look at the COPS who hover

there.

COP

(faint)

What the hell did that,

Lieutenant? There ain't even

a head left.

LT THOMPSON

Goddamed if I know.

(tries to straighten)

What's the Coronor say?

COP

He's in the john puking since

he saw it.

 

172. INT. CELLAR. NIGHT. 172.

NANCY pulls tools and hardware out with grim resolution. Hammer,

nails, spools of wire, an old square of heavy fishneting, some

old shot gun shells, a file -- referring only once to the booklet

in her hand.

 

173. INT. NANCY'S LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 173.

Barely able to control her shaking hands, NANCY starts stringing

off the spool of wire across the living room, crying and swearing

at the same time.

DISSOLVE TO HER HANDS wrapping bare lamp wire around two

thumbtacks stuck into the insides of the pinchers of a common

wooden clothespin. The wire goes OFF SCREEN.

ANOTHER ANGLE as she inserts a Lifesaver between the two prongs.

One end of the fishline is tied to the lifesaver. The whole now

is stretched taut about three inches off the living room carpet.

ON NANCY carefully filing a hole in a LIGHTBULB.

OH HER pouring powder and shot from shotgun shells into the

opening in the bulb until it's full, then sealing it with tape.

DISSOLVE TO HER screwing the bulb back into the floor lamp, and

placing the thing near the foot of the stairs.

 

SC 174 (DELETE)

175. INT. NANCY'S UPSTAIRS HALLWAY. NIGHT. 175.

-- NANCY completes installing a sturdy sliding bolt to the

outside of her own bedroom door.

-- NANCY screws a hinge into the wall directly above her door.

Attached to the hinge is the shank of something -- some kind of

tool. We can't see what it is because CAMERA never quite frames

the whole thing.

-- NANCY tiptoes to her mother's door and peeks in.

 

176. INT. MARGE'S BEDROOM. NIGHT. 176.

MARGE lies propped in her bed looking back at NANCY. Her

drunkeness has been altered by the SIRENS and BABBLE outside into

a sort of comatose clarity.

MARGE

Guess I should'n'a done it.

NANCY

Just sleep now, Mom.

MARGE

Just wanted to protect you,

Nan. Just wanted to protect

you...

MARGE slides over on her side. NANCY smooths her hair, covers her

as she would a child, then exits the room.

 

DELETE SC 177

178. INT. NANCY'S ROOM. NIGHT. 178.

The girl enters, turns out her bedside light, slips out of her

dress and puts on her nightgown. Then she kneels by her bed.

NANCY (quietly)

Now I lay me down to sleep,

I pray the Lord my soul to keep.

If I should die before I wake,

I pray the Lord my soul to take.

She gets into bed and pulls the blankets to her chin.

CLOSE ON NANCY's face. She stares straight up at the ceiling for

a long moment, then closes her eyes.

CUT TO:

 

179. INT. GLEN'S LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 179.

LT THOMPSON trudges down the stais and confronts GLEN'S FATHER.

LT THOMPSON

I know it's hard to think at

a time like this, Walter, but

can you think of anyone who

could've done such a thing?

The father stares away, his voice low and dull.

MR LANTZ

He done it.

THOMPSON looks at the man, baffled.

LT THOMPSON

Who? Who did that?

MR LANTZ

Krueger.

LT THOMPSON

Krueger?

The father gives him the strangest look.

MR LANTZ

Had to've done it. No one

else was in there.

LT THOMPSON

How you know that?

MR LANTZ

Cause I thought Glen was

gonna sneak out to see your

lunatic daughter, that's why.

So I locked him in his room!

(getting control)

Sorry. Anyways, the door was

still locked when we heard the

screams.

He blinks.

MR LANTZ (CONTD)

Maybe god's punishing us all...

LT THOMPSON

(much lower and hard)

Keep your head -- this is a

fucking flesh and blood killer

we're talking about.

MR LANTZ

Like Rod Lane?

A voice calls down from upstairs.

COP (OS)

Lieutenant Thompson. Coronor

wants to show you something.

THOMPSON gives MR LANTZ one final look, then heads upstairs.

CUT TO:

 

NOTE: These rewrites of scenes 180 and 180 A replace NANCY

walking through the 'dream streets' at night, and NANCY

approaching the huge deserted building at night, prior to her

entering the Boiler Room the final time.

 

180. INT. DOWNSTAIRS, NANCY'S HOUSE. NIGHT. 180.

LOW ANGLE UP STAIRS as NANCY appears at head. As she comes

downstairs, CAMERA MOVES WITH HER through the hallway to the

cellar door. She opens the door.

 

180A. INT. NANCY'S CELLAR. NIGHT. 180A.

NANCY appears at top of these stairs, hesitates, then comes down.

WIDER as NANCY approaches center of room, stops in CU, then turns

eyes. We HEAR the distant SOUND of the boiler room now, faint

but unmistakeable. NANCY MOVES, and CAMERA PANS HER to the

cellar's side WALL, where another, new doorway is REVEALED.

NANCY opens this door and looks down. FIRELIGHT is on NANCY'S

face now, and the SOUND of the Boiler Room is very clear. NANCY

goes through the door.

 

180B. INT. BOILER ROOM. 180B.

NANCY decends like Orpheus into hell, but without weapon save her

wits.

She decends a steel stair to the lowest level, then hears the

SOUND of the knives from down another shaft. She sees there's an

even deeper place down there. She starts down.

Again, and then again, NANCY decends, each ladder narrower or

more twisting, each level deeper, wetter, darker, more airless.

Soon she's gasping for air, but still she pushes herself on. She

doesn't stop until she breaks out at last at the very bottom of

the place, a wet, firelit sump deep in the bowels of the place.

CAMERA NOW PANS AROUND WITH HER, and for the first time we SEE

the vast maul of the empty boiler behind her.

She stares at it. It's seething with some dark WIND that soughs

and whines like a huge dying dog.

NANCY crosses to it, touching the pile of old, coal-dusted dirt

at its base. It looks almost like an old grave.

She turns suddenly, listening. Then, hearing nothing, she looks

down.

NANCY'S POV as she picks up GLEN's earphones.

WIDER as she suddenly drops them, staring at her fingers.

They're dripping blood.

There's another BEEP.

180C. INSERT ON NANCY'S WATCH -- the COUNT-DOWN a blur of black digits 180C.

counting down to zero. They've just crossed the ten minute

warning.

180D. CLOSE ON NANCY'S FACE. She speaks into the night. 180D.

NANCY

(quietly)

Come out and show yourself,

you bastard.

No sooner are these words off her lips than the huge bulk of FRED

KRUEGER lurches up behind her! The man is even more hideous

hatless, his bald head and tormented face veiled in skeins of

ruined flesh, his ragged teeth barred, the great spider of

razor-blades flashing from his fingertips.

He leaps, but the girl leaps just as fast, a fierce jump,

that sends her out over black space and down into a huge, dark

sump of blackness.

 

180E. EXT. THE HEAVENS. NIGHT. 180E.

CLOSE ANGLE ON NANCY as she curves like a swan though her

apogee, and begins falling, diving, planing through black air,

the wind ripping at her hair and eyes. Suddenly the complex,

glittering skein of light that is the San Fernando Valley seen

from the air slides INTO FRAME, and we see she's falling from

high, high over the earth.

NANCY falls, falls in slow motion against the spinning lights,

free as a sky diver freefalling -- a giddy, acrophobic plunge.

 

181,182,183,184 OMIT OMIT 181,182,183,184

185. EXT. ELM STREET/NANCY'S HOUSE. NIGHT. 185.

NANCY crashes suddenly out of the night and into a hedge just

outside her own front door, rolling out at its bottom scratched

and bloodied. If she were in any normal reality she'd be a mass

of broken bones -- but somehow she's able to claw her way up and

look at her watch once more.

INSERT. Just a few seconds from zero.

She staggers for her house's front door -- but a moment later

KRUEGER crashes down atop her! NANCY struggles to her knees just

as the man lunges with that godawful handful of blades. But

instead of running, she ducks inside the deadly grab and seizes

him in a desperate bearhug!

The surprise move sends him pitching backwards, her still on him

--and they fall into the jumble of torn-down trellis of roses

beneath her window. Almost at that very second we HEAR the

jarring, deafening RINGING of NANCY's alarm clock!

SMASH CUT TO:

 

186. INT. NANCY'S BEDROOM. NIGHT. 186.

NANCY sprawls out of her bed onto the floor, twisting from the

jabs of the already vanished thorns, briars and brush. Gasping,

she takes a second to get her bearings

ANGLE ON THE BED as she recovers quick as she can, snatching up

the net, ready for an assault from any direction.

But the room is empty.

Hardly able to catch her breath, her hair tangled, her nightgown

torn, she drops the net. She sits on the bed, turns on the

bedside lamp and re-examines her room. No one there but herself.

It's a terrible blow, despite the fact that she's safe. Her face

is covered with tears, she's shaking and breathless. She rattles

her head in confusion and despair, realizing her own madness.

NANCY

I'm crazy after all...

At that very instant FRED KRUEGER leaps up from the far side of

the bed with an EXPLOSIVE SHOUT of rage!

He lunges across the table for her, missing by inches as NANCY

pitches backwards and scrambles for the window. But she's

stopped by the bars.

KRUEGER, incredibly fast, regains his feet and leaps again -- the

girl wheels and shatters the coffeepot over his head. As he

crashes backwards NANCY flings open the door of her room and

dives through -- only to rebound off someone on the other side --

 

187. INT. HALLWAY. NIGHT. 187.

MARGE, knocked flying by NANCY'S charge, hits the floor hard,

knocking the wind out of herself. NANCY sees what she's done,

jumps over the body and slams the door and throws the new bolt

home. Next instant she gingerly ties a string to the door's

knob, a string that trails down from the ceiling, attached to

something up there that's still just barely out of sight.

Next instant she's dragging her MOTHER towards the woman's

bedroom as fast as she can.

KRUEGER is already splintering the doorway behind her as NANCY

dips and makes it into MARGE's room, SLAMMING the DOOR behind her

and locking it in a flash.

The MANIAC breaks the bolt and rips open the door.

But the in the very act of doing this he of course unknowingly

pulls the string attached to the outside doorknob with terrific

force.

CLOSE ANGLE ON THE CEILING. The string jerks against a

single-edged razor, which in turn cuts a tight wind of cord

holding a heavy wedge of steel to the ceiling.

WIDER as the thing falls free, pivoting at the hinge at the far

end of its handle, and drives straight into KRUEGER'S groin with

a terrific blow. As he catapaults backwards with an incredulous

shriek, the twenty pound sledge hammer swings back and reveals to

camera just what it is!

ANGLE DOWN ON KRUEGER, clawwing his way up despite his agony,

lurching and cursing forward like an enraged bull.

WIDER ANGLE IN THE HALLWAY as KRUEGER roars out -- only to

immediately strike the length of WIRE strung across the hallway,

catching it just above the thigh. He cartwheels head-over-heels

and lands flat on his back!

Instantly the DOOR to NANCY's MOTHER's bedroom flies open and

NANCY brings a brass lamp down over KRUEGER's head with all her

might! It sounds like a line-drive caroming off a metal

flagpole.

NANCY SLAMS the DOOR as KRUEGER struggles up, clutching his

head.

Enraged, the huge man CRASHES against the door with terrific

force, and rears back and starts smashing against the door like

the utter homicidal lunatic that he is.

CUT TO:

 

188. EXT. ELM STREET/NANCY'S HOME. NIGHT. 188.

HIGH ANGLE at the second floor level. NANCY jerks open the

window to her MOTHER's bedroom and jams her face to the bars.

The AMBULANCE is pulling away with a tremendous WAIL of its SIREN

as NANCY SCREAMS down, trying to make herself heard.

NANCY

Help! Hey -- Daddy -- I got

him trapped! Where are you!?

189. ANGLE ON the street. PARKER, assigned to guard the house, sees 189.

NANCY -- hair white, eyes wide -- pounding on the bars and

screaming like a lunatic. But her meaning is utterly lost in the

noise of the ambulance next to him.

PARKER

(yelling up at her)

Everything's going to be all

right! Everything's under

control!

ANGLE at the window. Close on NANCY's face, incredulous at his

response.

NANCY

Get my father, you asshole!

PARKER does a little take. That almost sounded sane.

PARKER (OS)

You heard what I said! Now get

back inside or I'll tell your

dad!

191. Behind her the DOOR SPLINTERS. NANCY whirls around just in time 191.

to see KRUEGER bull in! NANCY's eyes go wide -- she's trapped

against the bars and has nowhere to go. The man bunches his

knives into a single thick blade and rushes her, stabbing. NANCY

closes her eyes --

Then from OUT OF FRAME Marge leaps between the two.

MARGE

No!

She blocks the charge perfectly -- blocking the knives.

Both she and NANCY are slammed backwards against the bars

behind.

Drunk though she is, is hanging onto KRUEGER'S weapon hand,

keeping the knives inside herself, away from her daughter!

MARGE

Nancy -- for god's sake's run!

But NANCY turns to the window instead, screaming for her father.

NANCY

Daddy! Where are you!

 

192. EXT. ELM STREET. NIGHT. 192.

PARKER, just about to turn back to the business at GLEN's house,

sees NANCY and SOMEONE else fall just inside the window.

Something begins to dawn on the man. Just a little.

PARKER

Poor woman's got her hands full

with that kid. Maybe I better

tell the lieutenant.

He turns and jogs towards GLEN's house.

 

193. INT. MARGE'S BEDROOM. NIGHT. 193.

ANGLE ON KRUEGER, hauling MARGE up in rage, knocking her

senseless across her bed and climbing after her with his knives

raised. NANCY wheels behind him and whams him in the kidneys

with her fists, spilling him back off the bed, then running past

him for the door. She makes it to safety,

then turning back. She flips the monster the bird, her eyes wild

with pain and fury.

NANCY

Hey fuckface -- can't catch me!

The bait works -- KRUEGER leaves MARGE and howls after NANCY.

 

194. INT. UPSTAIRS HALLWAY. NIGHT. 194.

As NANCY clears the hall and makes the stairs, KRUEGER lurches

through the shattered doorway after her.

 

195. INT. LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 195.

The girl careens down the stairs, across the room and to the

front door, banging against it with terrified fury.

NANCY

(screaming)

Come on -- he's in here!

Daddy! Don't let him kill

me too!

Behind her the huge MAN is thumping down the stairs, KNOCKING

THINGS OVER, SCRAPING his LONG STEEL FINGERNAILS along the wall

with a horrible sound!

NANCY flings a heavy ash tray through the porch window and

screams through the bars.

NANCY (CONTD)

HEELLLPPP!!! Daddyyyyyyy!!!!

KRUEGER, bloody and spewwing threats, staggers for her -- NANCY

dives behind the couch.

CLOSE ON KRUEGER'S FEET as they hit another wire.

CLOSE ON the Lifesaver jerking out -- the clothespin snapping

together, completing the circuit with a CRACKLING SPARK.

WIDER ON THE EXPLOSION that rips out of the floor lamp next to

KRUEGER and knocks him sprawling across the room.

NANCY peeks out from behind the couch. The man lies in a smoking

heap. NANCY runs to the windows and screams out again.

NANCY (CONTD)

Hey -- Daddy! Hey! I got the

bastard!

KRUEGER roars up behind her -- she throws herself sideways -- he

crashes into the window frame, smashing glass and wood to bits.

NANCY turns SCREAMING and runs deeper into the house.

 

196. OMIT 196.

197. INT. CELLAR. NIGHT. 197.

She careens down the stairs, throwing on the lights, the man

thundering after her.

ANGLE AT THE FAR END OF THE CELLAR. NANCY brakes at the wall.

Nowhere left to hide.

THE SCRAPPING of the blades against brick turns her to see the

huge killer holding his knife-laden fingers up for her.

KRUEGER

Ready for these?

198. ON NANCY -- she ducks behind the furnace -- comes out the other 198.

side with the big jug of gasoline and lets KRUEGER have it

straight over the head. The heavy container shatters, showering

its contents over every square inch of the man.

He staggers backwards with a ROAR of fury, NANCY screaming after

him with a box of kitchen matches. Before the man can realize

what she's up to, she ignites the whole box and throws it in

KRUEGER's face.

There's a blinding WHOOSH -- and KRUEGER goes up in a terrific

BALL OF FIRE. Faster than a flash the girl runs past the howling

maniac and makes for the stairs, KRUEGER after her in full

pyrrhic rage.

 

199. INT. NANCY'S KITCHEN. NIGHT. 199.

NANCY holds the heavy door until the precisely right moment.

Just as the burning, blind monster tops the stairs, NANCY brings

the heavy oak door round with all her might and catches him in a

great RINGING CONCUSSION. It sends him windmilling backwards and

down the stairs in an ass-over-teakettle sprawl of sparks and

flames.

NANCY slams the door and throws the deadbolt home.

No sooner does she accomplish this than the man is SLAMMING again

and again against the door from the cellar.

The terrible SCREAMS and CURSES PEAK,

THEN GROW WEAKER AND MORE GARBLED. Then there's just silence.

NANCY staggers, half blind, from the kitchen.

As the room begins seething SMOKE from every pore, we

CUT TO:

 

200. INT. GLEN'S UPSTAIRS HALLWAY. NIGHT. 200.

The CORONER steps out of the bathroom peeling bloody rubber

gloves. Pale and sweating.

CORONER

Found you something, Donald.

Should remind you of something...

The man shoves out his hand to LT THOMPSON. THOMPSON stares at

it without touching it. A long, thin steel blade, razor sharp,

attached to some sort of ring and armature -- broken off...

The CORONER gives a sweaty, grim smile.

CORONER (CONTD)

Only place I ever heard of such

a thing before was ten years

ago. Remember that fucker

Fred Krueger?

LT THOMPSON has just knocked PARKER sprawling in his race to the

stairs.

PARKER

Hey -- your daughter's acting

kinda -- !

(THOMPSON'S gone)

Strange...

 

201. EXT. NANCY'S HOME. NIGHT. 201.

CRASH as NANCY breaks another window and presses against the

bars. The house shudders and glows orange behind her. She sees

her father bursting out the front door of Glen's house!

NANCY

DAD! GET US OUTTA HERE!

LT THOMPSON

Oh, Jesus -- Nancy!

(to his men)

Hey! We got a fire!

202. ANGLE ON NANCY'S FRONT DOOR. Many MEN batter the door down as 202.

black smoke pours from the windows and NANCY's SCREAMS and SHOUTS

fill the air. Within moments they've destroyed the door and LT

THOMPSON has pulled his daughter into the safety of his arms.

But NANCY immediately fights free and darts right back to the

front door -- beckoning him to follow -- gesturing like a wild

woman.

NANCY

I got him -- I got Fred Krueger!

THOMPSON stares at his wild little girl in astonishment, then

runs in after her. The others follow, coughing and choking.

 

203. INT. LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 203.

THOMPSON collides with NANCY as she brakes, frozen. THE SMOKE IS

BELCHING OUT OF THE CELLAR, but whoever was locked in there

certainly isn't now. The door is flat on the kitchen floor.

LT THOMPSON

What the hell are you talking about,

Nancy?

NANCY wheels without answering. A series of tiny, isolated fires

burn across the living room and up the stairs. Firesteps.

NANCY (CONTD)

He's after Mom! Come on!

She darts across the living room, following the flaming

footprints of FRED KRUEGER up the stairs before THOMPSON can stop

her.

LT THOMPSON

NANCY!

 

204. INT. MARGE'S BEDROOM. NIGHT. 204.

NANCY STOPS IN THE SPLINTERED DOORWAY -- a ragged gold-red light

splashing her horrified face.

205. REVERSE IN HER POV -- FRED KRUEGER, literally a man of fire, has 205.

a screaming MARGE pinned to the bed and is crawling all over

her! NANCY gives a banshee's howl, snatches up a chair and

brings it down over the back of the firey beast, stunning him.

By the time LT THOMPSON races into the room NANCY'S seized a

heavy blanket has thrown over both of them, fighting the flames.

The father joins his daughter without a second thought, heaving

another blanket over the bed and smothering the last of the

flames.

NANCY

He's under there! Watch it!

206. THOMPSON pushes the girl back -- yanks out his .38 and pulls off 206.

the first cover. No movement. He pulls back a second one,

ready to fire. But the only thing he sees is the blackened

half-skeleton of his ex-wife, smoking and seething and sinking

into the fluid-like mattress, sinking right down through it as if

she were sinking into a lake. A blackened, gnarled hand goes

last, then the bed solidifies over the place she's disappeared.

And it's as if no one was ever there.

NANCY turns and looks at LT THOMPSON, her face white as her

ghostly hair. THOMPSON shoves his .38 back in its holster and

finds a cigarette, his hands shaking so badly he can barely

manage.

NANCY

Now do you believe me?

PARKER barges in. The room is filled with smoke, the bed is

stripped, but other than that, the place seems normal.

PARKER

You find him?

(looking closer

at THOMPSON)

Sir?

LT THOMPSON just walks by him. PARKER chases after.

PARKER (CONTD OS)

(fading)

Sir -- here, let me light that

for you -- Lieutenant? What

happened?

(gone)

WIDER, ON NANCY alone in the room. She turns and looks at the

bed. MUSIC slips in and builds. The bed has changed color.

It's now an ash-darkened red and yellow.

207. CLOSER ON NANCY from the direction of the bed. MUSIC SUDDENLY 207.

STOPS, and the surface of the red and yellow bed gets a bump in

its center that keeps raising, raising until it's a hump that's a

head and shoulders, still raising until it looms over NANCY.

Then FRED KRUEGER's entire shape sweeps up into the yellow and

red mass -- and the garish head, smoking and seething, pops

through.

NEW ANGLE -- KRUEGER, a burned, sizzling black hump of a killer,

clumps onto the floor between NANCY and the door.

NANCY falls absoltely still, and her face goes through a

strange, almost sublime transformation.

NANCY

(quietly)

I know you're there, Krueger.

She turns and faces him.

FREDDIE

You think you was gonna get

away from me?

NANCY shakes her head.

NANCY

I know you too well now,

Freddie.

KRUEGER smiles bitterly. Coming closer.

FREDDY

And now you die...

There's a SLICKERING RATTLE at his side, and he raises the only

thing on him not charred -- the gleaming steel talons.

208. NANCY simply shakes her head again, as if seeing a light at the 208.

end of her long, long tunnel. And the way she says the words,

they might be appearing on the inside of her eyes.

NANCY

It's too late, Krueger. I

know the secret now -- this

is just a dream, too -- you're

not alive -- the whole thing

is a dream -- so fuck off!

I want my mother and friends

again.

KRUEGER grins insanely, confused and amused at the same time.

FREDDIE

You what?

NANCY

(even, firm)

I take back every bit of

energy I ever gave you.

You're nothing. You're

shit.

And then she turns her back on him. KRUEGER bunches his

fingers, producing a single ragged bundle of razor talons and

raises his hand over the back of her head and neck.

NANCY closes her eyes and steps to the door.

CLOSE ON HER HAND, touching the door knob.

CLOSE ON KRUEGER'S KNIFE-FINGERS poised.

MUSIC BUILDS then SHRIEKS as KRUEGER stabs down, right through

NANCY -- as if she were an optical illusion -- loosing his

balance and falling down, down, down... And he's gone.

CUT TO:

 

209. EXT. ELM STREET. DAY. 209.

CLOSE ON NANCY'S FRONT DOOR AS NANCY jerks it open and blinks in

the bright, diffused light. The MUSIC FADES on a transitional

note, into light.

We hear BIRDS.

CHILDREN playing.

Early morning SOUNDS.

NANCY

(to herself)

God, it's bright.

MARGE sticks her head out, squinting, and nods. Sober.

MARGE

Gonna burn off soon or it

wouldn't be so bright.

NANCY turns and looks her mother over.

NANCY

Feeling better?

MARGE

They say you've bottomed out

when you can't remember the

night before.

(shakes her head)

No more drinking, Baby, suddenly

I just don't feel like it

any more.

She touches NANCY.

MARGE (CONTD)

Didn't keep you up last night,

did I? You look a little

peeked.

NANCY smiles.

NANCY

Nah. Just slept heavy.

The girl gives a wave and goes off. MARGE calls after.

MARGE

See ya.

NANCY turns and waves.

NANCY

See ya.

210. WIDER ON NANCY as she walks to the curb. The whole scene is 210.

wrapped in an unseasonal tule fog, bright yet diffuse. We notice

that NANCY's house no longer has bars on its windows. Then we

see a familiar convertible pull up at the curb, top down. TINA

and ROD are in the back seat. They all wave to MARGE as NANCY

climbs in.

GLEN

(calling)

You believe this fog?

MARGE

(laughs)

I believe anything's possible.

TINA slaps five with NANCY.

TINA

Lookin' good, girl!

ANGLE INSIDE THE CONVERTIBLE. GLEN slips into the seat next to

NANCY. Someone else is driving, it seems. NANCY looks up to the

DRIVER. The big MAN turns and grins at NANCY, a terrible,

scarred, hideous leer of a grin -- FRED KRUEGER'S grin!

ANGLE BACK OUTSIDE THE CONVERTIBLE as its top clamps over the

kids within -- a bright red and yellow top that closes as fast

and hard as a beartrap! NANCY'S frightened face flies to the

window, pressing against the thick glass as the car roars away

from the curb and into the thick fog.

211. CAMERA PANS TO a group of LITTLE GIRLS, half-hidden by the fog, 211.

jumping rope and singing gayly.

GIRLS

One two --

Freddy's coming for you!

Three four --

Better lock your door!

Five six --

Get your Crucifix

Seven eight --

Gonna stay up late!

Nine ten --

Never sleep again!

MUSIC CROSSFADES WITH THIS SONG, expanding the simple tune to

symphonic, boundless dimensions as the little girls fade into

thin air, and we

FADE TO BLACK

ROLL END TITLES.

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