Yet More Deranged Insanity
By Benjamin "Damn, I'm Bored" Donnelly

AUTHOR'S INANE RAMBLINGS: Once more, I turn over the keyboard to Gendo Ikari. Happy Halloween.
Oh, and this is rated PG for sexual innuendo, horrific scenes, occasional gore, and Misato's breasteses. She has two. In other words, this isn't any more scary or sick than your average episode of Evangelion.

Konnichi wa, or komban wa if that's appropriate. Once more, I, Gendo Ikari am writing another public service announcement for those of you here at
It is that time of year again, that uniquely American tradition called Halloween. Undoubtedly, this will bring a spate of Evangelion fanfics with Halloween themes. Given that Eva is already half-horror movie in any case, this is entirely appropriate. So, please, feel free to write these. I, Gendo Ikari, Commander of NERV, give you permission to do so. I will so enjoy reading them. Who knows.perhaps I will get ideas, neh?
However, some of you may be thinking "Woot! Wouldn't it be kewl if I crossed over Eva with A Nightmare on Elm Street?" While entertaining, let me warn you of this. It is not a good idea. My personnel here at NERV have faced Second Impact and several horrific Angel attacks. Do you truly think that a malicious leprachaun or a hockey-masked killer would faze us?

Since some of you benighted souls will undoubtedly write this anyway, please let me provide you with my own ideas of what would happen, were these crossovers real.


Jason Voorhees walked through the lush hills near Tokyo-3. He was a hulking mass of undead flesh, an abused brute of a man who had been killed over a dozen times, and kept coming back. He knew only one skill: how to kill. He was good at it. He enjoyed it, if enjoyment can be had in his horribly diseased mind. Arguably the world's worst psychotic villain, he stalked the darkness of the city, waiting for his next victim. He did not know why he was here. He did not know how he had survived Second Impact. He only cared to murder.
Ahead he saw a Renault Alpine, parked on a section of highway that overlooked the city. Its windows were fogged, and it rocked from side to side on its suspension. Inside, Jason could make out the shadowy figures of two young people, a man and a woman, thoroughly enjoying each other's company. His eyes narrowed behind the battered hockey mask, and he twirled the machete he carried. It was time to do what he did, and what he did wasn't-
"Oops." Shinji looked down at the splattered remains of whoever EVA-01 had just stepped on.
"Baka Shinji!" Asuka snapped. "Can't you even watch where you're going?"
"Sorry. I'm sorry!" Shinji pleaded, to forestall any more of Asuka's insults.
"You should be, you clumsy oaf! Now get down there and tell Misato that we just detected a Blue Pattern and she's needed in ops!"
"Um.she.uh.looks.uh.busy, Asuka."
EVA-02 bent down to look at the gooey remains of whoever Shinji had stepped on. "What kind of idiot wears a hockey mask around in the middle of the night, in summer? Japan is weird." She glanced to one side at the Alpine. "EEEEEK! KAJI?!"


Gendo Ikari walked into his office. It had been a long day at NERV, but while everyone was going home now-Asuka and Shinji to Misato's apartment, Rei to her place, and Ritsuko to hers-he still had to review the latest batch of sync tests, check in with Keel at SEELE, and look over the last Angel encounter. Gendo knew there was always something new to be learned.

There was a DVD lying on his desk. "Ah," he said softly to himself, "this must be the battle with Sachiel." He sat down in his chair, placed the DVD into a hidden drive, and leaned back as a flatscreen monitor rose silently from his desk.
He had expected to see the terrible battle unfold again before his eyes. Instead, there was only a well of some kind. The color looked washed out. Intrigued, he leaned forward to watch. His eyebrows beetled together in confusion when two small hands rose from the well. A figure, the figure of a female child, pulled herself out and stepped onto the ground. Gendo blinked. She was walking towards the camera. He could not see her face, covered as it was in stringy black hair. Her skin was so pale as to almost be translucent. For all the world, it seemed like she was walking towards him, Gendo Ikari.
She stopped before the camera, or video feed, or whatever it was. Then, impossibly, she crawled through the screen, onto Gendo's desk. Her hair fell back slightly to expose two horrific, dead eyes.
Gendo looked into those eyes, and pushed his glasses up from the bridge of his nose. Ghoul and NERV commander regarded each other for a moment. "Would you like a job?" Gendo asked.


"Yeeeee-haaa!" And yet another night of drunken debauchery began at the Katsuragi household. Misato polished off half the can of Yebisu Dry in one gulp. She was happy, as happy as she ever got. Shinji was over at Kensuke's, helping him with some homework. Asuka was at Hikari's, spending the night. For now, Misato, and Pen-Pen of course, had the place to themselves, and Misato was taking advantage of it.
Misato had changed out of her uniform into a pair of cutoffs and a tank top, and nothing else, not even a bra. There was no one around but Pen- Pen, and he didn't care. She drank down the rest of the beer, crushed the can, tossed it in the garbage, and grabbed another. She tossed one to Pen- Pen as well. Nothing was ruining Misato's night.
The microwave dinged and Misato pulled out the bag of instant popcorn. Grinning, she plopped down on the sofa, switched on the television, and prepared to zone out into alcoholic oblivion for the next few hours.
"Oh, neat!" Misato exclaimed. "Horror movie marathon! Dracula? I haven't seen this for years.I should call Ritsuko." She thought about it for a moment. "Nah," she decided. "I don't want to get up."
Four beers, a bag of popcorn, and about two-thirds of the way through Bela Lugosi, Misato was dreamily regarding the movie, half-asleep, her fingers tracing idle patterns in the sofa. Then the phone began to ring. At first, Misato ignored it, but some synapse of her brain fired and told her that it might be important. It might be an alert, or it might be Shinji in some sort of trouble, or it might be Kaji. She shook her head free of that thought.
Misato ambled over to the endtable, tripped over a beer can, cursed, and picked up the phone. "Hullo?"
There was silence on the line for a moment. Then a voice said, "Do you like scary movies?"
Kaji, Misato thought blearily. Okay, you wanna play games, lover-boy, fine. "Yeah, I s'pose."
"Enjoying Dracula?"
"Did you enjoy your beer?"
"What is this, twenty questions? Besides, that's a rhegorical.rheforical.stupid question," she managed. "Of course I enjoyed my beer."
"What about your popcorn?"
Misato straightened. It didn't sound like Kaji. "Uh.yeah. Who is this?"
"I can see you."
Misato looked around. Pen-Pen blinked back at her. He didn't have a phone in his flipper, so she knew it wasn't him. "What?" She began to get a little nervous.
"'re wearing blue cutoffs, aren't you?" The voice sounded close. "And a yellow tank top." Almost as if the caller was in the house. But Misato knew she was alone.wasn't she?
Misato was now getting more than nervous. "Look, you-" Suddenly, a mighty yawn worked its way up through her body. She yawned loudly, involuntarily stretching her hands upwards, causing the tank top to ride upwards, over her full breasts
Misato stared at the phone. "I should have known!" She turned towards the window. "I'll show you a scary movie, you hentai!" And with that, Misato yanked her tank top off, putting her hands on her hips defiantly, and faced the window, jutting her chest out. There was a strangled scream from the phone, and then the line clicked off.
Seven blocks away, Shinji handed Touji and Kensuke Kleenexes for their bleeding noses and picked the cell phone up off the floor. He then turned the telescope away from Misato's apartment. "You guys really are desperate."


Rei Ayanami lay on her stomach, watching the news. She felt it was her duty to keep up with current events, even if the news was so strongly sanitized by NERV. The people, she knew, must not know the true nature of their enemy. Rei did not know everything, but she knew quite a bit. Still, she usually learned something every night, and it was certainly more interesting than that dullard who taught her class every day at school.
There was a knock at the door. Rei looked towards her window. It was raining out, with occasional claps of thunder. Who would be out on a night like this? Rei wondered. The knock came again, so Rei gave a small shrug, put a towel over her nakedness (Gotcha!-Author), and padded to the door. She opened it just as a third knock sounded.
There was no one at the door. Then she looked down. There was a doll of some sort there, a boy's doll, looking a little like the Raggedy Andy Asuka claimed she didn't own. It was dressed in bibfront overalls, with "Good Guyz" printed across it. The doll looked up at her, which Rei's mind registered as an impossibility; its face was stretched into a demonic grin, as it raised a wicked, curved knife. The doll laughed maniacally as it leapt at her, raising the knife for the kill. "Die!" it shrieked.
It hit something solid in mid-leap and fell backward. The psychotic gleam in the doll's eyes was replaced by shock. "What the hell?" It jumped up again, stabbed, and bent the knife on some sort of invisible shield. Rei only stared at it.
The doll let loose a profanity-laden tirade, which freely translated would mean "There is something very wrong here."
"I am not a doll," Rei said clearly, expanded her AT field, and sent the doll flying into the rain-soaked night. Shaking her head, she shut the door behind her.
Eighteen blocks away, Chuckie shook his head, getting it back on straight. "Man, I picked the wrong apartment. Maybe I should go try that Misty chick."


Shinji blinked his eyes. He was on a train. "Not this dream again," he sighed. The world outside was rust-colored, as was the inside of the train. The only sound was the monotone clacking of the wheels. Shinji looked around, fully expecting to see a figure sitting there, staring at him with red eyes.
There was a figure sitting there, but it didn't have red eyes. It slowly stood, and moved into the dim light. It was male, tall, and dressed in a torn, faded set of slacks, a red-striped shirt, and a hat. The hat's brim rose to reveal a horrible face, or what had once been a face-now the burned, charred remnants of one, all twisted muscle and scar tissue. The thing smiled at him, revealing broken teeth, and raised its hands. The hands were covered in grayish gloves, with deadly blades attached to each finger.
Shinji stared for a moment, then turned away. The monster blinked. "Hey, kid,"
"Yes?" Shinji answered tiredly.
"I think it's only fair warning are going to die. Here. In this dream. Isn't that neat?" The thing grinned at him again.
"Whatever," Shinji sighed.
The figure crossed its arms, actually taken aback. "Now wait a second, kid. I'm Freddy. I-"
"I know who you are," Shinji said indifferently. "You're just not scary to me. Sorry."
"I don't scare you?" Freddy asked incredously. "I'm a demon, kid! I can't be killed! I'll haunt your dreams until I kill-"
"No, you won't."
"Oh, the kid thinks he's tough," Freddy said in a singsong way. He splayed his bladed hands. "You don't have a prayer!"
"That's not it," Shinji said. He leaned back in the seat as if Freddy was a plushy cabbit. "It's just that you're not that terrible-not compared with what I have to live with every waking hour."
"And what the hell would that be?" Freddy followed Shinji's pointing finger. His eyes widened in their scorched sockets. "!!!"
At the entrance of the train car was a woman dressed in red armor. Her face was covered in a hockey mask, and she held a chainsaw. She pulled the starter, and the chainsaw whirred to life. Red-brown hair billowed behind her as she advanced on Freddy.
"No! Please! Have mercy!" Freddy begged.
"Shut up, Baka Freddy! There's only one person around who can scare the pants off of Shinji, and that's ME!"
The chainsaw fell again and again. Shinji watched the carnage apathetically. "I wonder if Ayanami has dreams like this."


The figure walked through the streets of London. It walked across the Tower Bridge, past Parliament and Big Ben, past Buckingham Palace. There was no one there. Nothing stirred except the trash and deritus of a vanished people.
"Hello?" the figure's voice boomed across a empty Kensington Square. "Is anyone there?" No one answered.
The figure stepped gingerly past the wreckage of cars, piled up, in some sort of mad rush to get out of the city, to get away from something, some unseen horror. It had been 28 days since the figure had been activated last, but certainly something had happened in that time.
The figure came upon a street of dead bodies. Piles upon piles of corpses. Hundreds of them. The figure drew back, momentarily afraid. "What's happened?" It came as a whisper.
Without warning, three of the corpses stood up. Then four. Then eight. They all faced the figure with wide, unblinking, blood red eyes. Their skin was stretched tight over their bodies, and their teeth ground together in rage and hunger. They didn't see the figure. All they saw was fresh meat. By the time the figure could react, virtually the entire crowd had stood, twitching and drooling bloody saliva, advancing on the figure.
"Ooh!" the figure gushed-or rather the woman inside of it did. Had the infected half-corpses still possessed a modicum of reason, they would have realized that the figure in front of them was ten stories high, painted the same shade of red as their wild eyes, and had a gigantic gatling gun.
"I've been a good girl this year!" Asuka Langely Soryu laughed, raised the guns, and let fly. In the space it took to write this sentence, the gatling gun expended 26,000 rounds, sawing the crowd in half, blasting them apart, sending blood and limbs spraying everywhere. The infected crowd began running, self-preservation overcoming rage and hunger.
"You see this?" Asuka crowed as she fired more shots after them, brandishing the gatling cannon. " my BOOM-STICK!"

So you see, faithful readers, such crossovers can end only in disaster. Nonetheless, I, Gendo Ikari, await your stories. After all, some of them might be- *phone rings*
Pardon me. Hello?

"Seven days."
Yes, thank you. I'll be down to pick up my dry-cleaning at that time. And please try to get that pizza stain out of my other sweater, will you? I cannot be an Evil Overlord looking like I need a bib.
Ahem. Excuse me. In any case, I look forward to speaking with you again. Until then, I remain,

Gendo Ikari
Commander, NERV