Disclaimer: I don't own A Nightmare On Elmstreet or Edward Scissorhands. Yes, I realize it's been a good while since I last updated, but I have been trying to keep up with the burdens of school and work. Believe me, I only wish I had the time to finish this soon. :)

And as a side-note, the only romance in this story is Edward's past with Kim. I refuse to pair off an OC with a character like Edward, who obviously loves only Kim. And there's no way in hell I'd pair an original character with Freddy, for reasons I really shouldn't have to state.

Chapter V: A Rose By Any Other Name

He grinned down at the limp figurine in his arms, his malice adding spice to his festive air. With the bitch asleep, his task was curdled, making the difficulty of it that much easier. And now, all that was left to do was the completion of said job. His anticipation was slightly dampened by the fact that, while unconscious, the girl would bear no burden of the pain that was inevitable with the forthcoming ritual. Although he would have indulged himself in the enjoyment her protests and screams were bound to bring, it was best not to mull over the denial of his glory. His plans were merely newborns in their unfurling.

Raising his notorious clawed glove, he granted the weight of Brigid's body to the security of his other arm. He, the demon well endowed with the blessings of those who had given him forever life in the dream world, summoned with his mind verses of ancient power.

Grinning, he reveled in the power that danced through his veins such as the cool waters of spring might pirouette in the rivers and streams. The dark tendrils worked their way through him, clustering at every possible turnpike. It required great power to work the darkness as though it were an ox; only those in the good graces of the dark gods could accomplish such a task with the elegance of a swan.

It was a difficult bit, to be sure, but nonetheless it was a necessary plot device in his story. Without it, his words would run dry and once again he'd be subjected to the boredom of eternal power. His ambition, however tainted it might've been, was admirable in its stubborn ways. Once in action, it never wanted to rest.

As the various stages of the spell continued on, Freddy watched as his body descended to mere silhouettes. Amused, he turned away from the seductress that was distraction, knowing his concentration was needed still. It was rather difficult, as he had limited control over his attention span. At times, when he allowed such tomfoolery, his thoughts would drift away as if on a midnight breeze.

Relaxing though it was for his mind to be thinking of nothing but abstracts, he needed control in his arsenal if he ever wanted to successfully complete his plans. Bringing his gaze to the unconscious figure he held, he directed his energy at the very center of her body. He remained in that position for a brief passing of time before his form, now entirely reduced to mere silhouettes, fell over her, covering her in an obsidian silk sheet.

Sunlight danced within the attic, tainting the lingering etches of the night with a chipper golden shine. Edward smiled, delighted for a moment with the arrival of the sun's pleasant grin. For a brief period of time, he allowed himself to entwine with the song of the newborn day. He exchanged greetings with the clouds as they sent him fluffy smiles of hello, still awakening from the deep sleep he had fallen into.

He was pulled right from the surreal fogs of happiness he had become lost in by the intruding light of Kim's face, etched into the clouds. Her portrait against the pristine, light blue sky only seemed to distance her memory even further from Edward. She did belong to the heavens now, snatched away and hidden so that Edward could never find her again.

He sighed, feeling the imprint from the slap of his ever-vigilant sorrow burn across his cheek. There was no running away from his misery. Edward knew all too well he was far from welcome in Suburbia. This being the one town he knew of, Edward figured he had woods as his other option, a choice that would not bode well with his emotional build up.

He turned to begin yet another day of carving dreams and sculpting wishes, all the while carrying a broken heart beyond repair. He had managed to make it down the stairs before a most abnormal sound halted his journey. It was music of a strange variety, certainly nothing like anything he had heard before. The volume was garbed in intensity and distortion, and the actual sound seemed to origin from the hell-place one of Kim's neighbors had been opposed to.

It aroused the crimson images of Jim that seemed to still be under the spell of sleep, the fear and the anger that had accentuated his monolithic, football player size. Edward cringed, hoping that the apparent visitors were nothing of the sort Kim had formerly hung out with.

With a sudden blast, the front door burst open, helpless to the daring individuals behind it. Edward wanted to hide, but at the same time, he was intrigued. No one had visited him since…well, since Kim's death.

But his curiosity quickly morphed to fright again. Before him stood three figures, all of them tall and intimidating. The center person was female, though she lacked the elegance and innocence of Kim, Edward noted. Her hair was a black color that hardly suited her. From what Kim had told him of hairstyles and the like, he guessed it was dyed. Her nose shined with the piece of metal popping up from one of her nostrils, and her wardrobe was anything but classy. Like her male companions, she wore a lot of leather. However, while her two accomplices dressed in trench coats, she boastfully flaunted the pasty white of her stomach and bosom with her skimpy skirt and pitifully small shirt.

"Like what you see, sweetheart?" She flirtatiously teased, sauntering towards Edward, who remained as motionless as one of his sculptures, while her companions stayed behind and simply stared at him.

Edward could hardly think of what to say. Awkwardness had settled over the atmosphere as frost did autumn when it was time for winter. The woman, despite the adult nature of her dress, appeared even younger closer up. But Edward cared not for her age or "beauty." The noise seemed to originate from her, and as it came even closer into his proximity, Edward only desired to make it, and the strangers, disappear.

Brigid awoke to the strange sight of blackness. She was conscious, she knew, but somehow, all she could see was black. What the hell is going on? She wanted answers, and fast.

"Good morning, sleepy head."

Brigid tried to gasp at the sound of the words. She had not spoken, and yet it was her own voice that had addressed her. She squirmed, or at least, tried to. She was blind, for the time being, and she was immobilized by some otherworldly force. Just what had she gotten herself into?

"Aw. Poor darling." Her voice cooed. "You look starved. Well, here. Let me feed your curiosity…"

What the fuck am I talking about? I didn't say that. But then, if it wasn't me... She thought to herself, trying to keep her emotions from dictating her actions as well.

"Now now dear. It isn't polite to use such foul language, especially when you have company."

Brigid wanted to scream as her eyes finally opened, though it was not she who opened them. She found herself in her barely unpacked bedroom, but before she could take too much detail in, she spun to face the mirror. It wasn't she who mastered this pirouette. Rather, it was the face who stared back at her, the garish reality of burns and scratches that looked out through the mask of her pimply, pasty face. She was merely the costume through which he, the actor, spoke. All of what she saw in the mirror only further convinced her that this play was certain to end in tragedy.

9, 10 Never sleep again