Title: Rasen Nightmares

Author: Kora

E-mail: KrazyKoraaol.com or WinterViolet24aol.com

Rating: R

Disclaimer: The following a character belong to Wes Craven, Gore Verbinski and all the other people and companies who deal with all that legal stuff. I am simply using the characters for my own twisted enjoyment - as well as some OCs of my own, heaven help us all!

Author's Notes: Sequel to 'Nightmare Ring', I was so pleased with the success of the first one and all of your wonderful feedback. Hopefully this second installment does not disappoint, sorry it took so long to come - I am sure many are saying : FINALLY, the Rock has come back to…wait, no, no - just FINALLY!
As with the first, this post includes the Prologue as well as Chapter One so it's a little longer than most chapters. Warnings listed below:

WARNING: GRAPHIC VIOLENCE/GORE

WARNING: FRIGHTENING IMAGES

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Prologue

There was nothing but an endless void of darkness.

Then a pop. A buzz. A hum.

The TV clicked on, slowly glowing to life. Static hissed audibly, black and white meshing together over and over. Then it broke; a woman in her mid twenties with fashionably cut black hair and a red sports jacket sat behind a polished desk, papers in front of her. Her voice rang out crisp and clear, growing louder and more intense with each word:

Authorities are still baffled by the rising number of bizarre deaths in the New York City region as numerous cases have been reported of victims found in their homes, cars, taxis, on the subway and even airplanes - each case more grisly than the next.

While the NYPD is tight-lipped about the situation, it is known that each case is random and has no connection to the other based on the normal motives of race, age, sex, and/or gender - the sheer force, brutality, and violence alone seem to link them together.

In other news…

The woman stopped, holding her left hand up, while her right hand pressed to a device in her ear.

Hold on one moment…I've just received breaking news of an incident - we're going to cut live to Doug Samplioni, Doug?

The screen cut to a dapper man in a nice suit, microphone held tightly - behind him is utter bedlam. Blue and red lights flash all around as mass amounts of people - some officials and others not - stand around a white house that appears torn open, fire and smoke still billowing out of its center.

Thanks Joan, as you can see behind me, chaos erupted here at this simple suburban home in downtown New York City. The home was apparently that of a Mr. and Mrs. Charles Denton. A respectable family with three young children. At this moment we are not sure of their condition or if there were any survivors. As you can also see we have police, firemen, and ambulances at the sight of the disturbance.

Not much has been released to the press save that firemen believe a possible kerosene tank may have been responsible for the explosion that rocked the core of this establishment. Neighbors on hand have reported that before the explosion there was a loud amount of volume coming from inside the home - some saying they even heard screaming.

We hope to bring your more information as it - wait a moment…something's happening…

Doug backed up as did the mass of people, revealing two police officers helping a man out of the house. Someone off camera could faintly be heard remarking, "That's Charlie!"

Charles Denton's eyes were glazed, his whole face covered in soot, T-shirt and jeans splattered with blood. Everyone began to crowd around him, asking numerous questions. The two police officers tried to push people off as they escorted him away but one question got through, one caught his attention, "What happened?"

He raised his glazed, and now visibly, bloodshot eyes, words leaving him in a croak, "Water…fire…seven days…"

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George Parkerdingle shot up in bed gasping, sweat pouring down his face. He let out a shaky breath and then released a tight laugh. Nightmare, it was just a nightmare…

He fell back in bed and sighed, running a hand through his thick mop of brown hair, rolling around a bit to work out the tension. Slowly his heartbeat decelerated, falling back to its normal rhythm, sweat drying cold to his flesh, leaving him clammy.

Probably left over jitters from that god-awful student art film he'd happened to pick up a few days ago. Normally he wasn't the type to pick VHS over DVD but for some strange reason the tape called to him…he'd found it in a local Goodwill store while on one of his many rammage buys and thought 'why not'?

Only five minuets into the freaky feature he had stopped it. He didn't think much about the phone call afterwards…

He shook his head, it had been silly. Instead he'd sent the tape down to his ex-wife, Julie. She was a member of Columbia's Graduate Film Division faculty, she loved pieces like that. Probably would force a bunch of her kids to watch it, analyze and explain…

Yeah, he'd love to read those papers. How could you even begin to explain that? He couldn't even explain what he'd seen. All he knew was it was giving him nightmares. He laughed to himself and shook his head, rolling over in bed once more. He couldn't seem to get comfortable now.

All he kept thinking about was water…and fire…

Suddenly there was a soft snapping sound. George frowned, at first thinking it was merely his apartment making one of those 'settling' noises that all places are known to make from time to time when a soft glow filled the room. He sat up slowly, sheets falling around him.

His TV, which sat a few feet across from his bed, had sprung to life. The entire screen falling black and white snow. He frowned, ignoring the fluttering feeling in his belly. He looked around, confused. Surely the remote was in bed with him. He'd been tossing and turning enough, he'd probably just clicked the stupid thing on.

But as he searched the sheets and covers, looked under his pillows, he saw no sign of the remote. He clicked on his bedside lamp and looked more feverishly. Then his eyes caught sight of it. It was half way across the room, right next to his TV. His thoughts were scattered as he looked at it, if the remote was there, then how…

He shook his head, determined to put an end to such foolishness. He rose to his feet, socks meeting the hardwood floor. He walked over and took hold of the remote, easily clicking off the set. He looked at the tube's black glossy surface and felt something flutter over him, a terrible chill cooling his bare arms and legs.

A shudder rippled through him but then disappeared. What was that? Must have been a draft, he rationalized. The heat was on in his apartment as high as it would go, that's why he'd gone to bed wearing only a white tank top and boxer shorts for Christ's sake. He crawled back into bed, remote in hand. He placed it next to his lamp and then clicked the light off, rearranging himself in the tangle of sheets and blankets.

He closed his eyes only to have a glowing light dance across his lids. He opened his eyes and sat up again. The television was on once more. Snow dancing just as before, static a soft hiss filling the room. He took hold of the remote and clicked the TV off again. It clicked back on. He turned it off. On. Off. On.

George let out a panicked gasp and threw the remote across the room, watching as the powered television's snowy pattern seemed to grow more frantic then fall away, revealing a twisted forest and in the center of it a dilapidated brick well. A squealing soundtrack replaced the noise of static in his ears, repeating over and over in horrible metallic clicks, sharp fingernails on a chalkboard…

A tiny hand appeared on the lip of the well followed by a mat of long, sopping wet hair.

"No, no, no, no...I turned you off! You're off!" George screeched in horror as his hands fisted in the sheets. He was frozen, unable to move, eyes fixated to the television as the dark hair was followed by a tiny body wearing nothing but a white tattered dress. She stood on her feet, walking raggedly, arms flat at her sides.

George reached for his lamp, trying to turn it on but for some reason each click of the knob produced nothing - no light filled the room save the TV's bluish white glow. The girl on screen continued her track until suddenly she faded into snowy static again. The television clicking off.

The room was plunged into darkness once more but he continued to fiddle with the lamp, trying to turn it on. Needing light - real light. Warm, glowing yellow…

The knob finally worked, lightbulb bursting to life and George let out a breath of relief as light filled the room, revealing the girl standing at the end of his bed. Water rolled off of her in droplets, falling to the floor. The skin on her arms was pasty white, long sheet of black hair a shroud over her entire head, her face cut off from view. The silky wet strands parted and a gray eye met George's own. He screamed, face on fire.

Then it stopped.

He blinked, scream dying in his throat. He waited a few moments, heart beating rapidly, breath off center. He looked around his room. The light was on. No one stood before his bed. No one was there. His room was empty. Fine. The TV was off.

A crazed, dry and thin little laugh left George, followed by a ramble of words, "Dream…sweet Jesus…it was just another dream…"

He lay back down, running a hand over his face, eyes closed as he let out a few more giggles of hysteria. He lay on his back, one hand on the lamp's knob about to click the lights off. He drew his hand away, opened his eyes and just as his hand clicked the lamp off he let out a scream at what he saw on the ceiling right above him - a man with a burnt face in a stripped sweater, one hand wearing a crude glove with razor knife fingers.

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Chapter 1

The sound of static filled the air as a frenzy of black and white danced about. It fell away and a squealing, whining, repetitive soundtrack played as a shining white ring appeared. It seemed to almost pulsate, and then it disappeared to be replaced by a rushing, dark torrent of blood.

Then it was gone, replaced by blazing fire.

Thick, red fluid rolled slowly across a desk. It appeared to be blood but then was revealed to be nothing more than a burning red candle. But the shadow behind the candle was abnormally high and it was melting too quickly.

A woman brushed her hair in a mirror, but suddenly stopped, looked straight ahead, she was replaced by the figure of a little girl. Her long hair covered her face and she seemed to float backward and out of view, into grainy blackness.

Then there was darkness but three jump roping girls could be seen far off in the distance, their faces invisible but it was easy to tell all three had curly blonde hair and wore the same white bushy dress.

A bald woman, her eyes and mouth closed rotated in a circle. When she was face forward her eyes and mouth opened simultaneously, showing that her insides were completely hollowed out. Dark, black smoke billowed out of both openings and then a fire exploded inside her, curls of flame rising from the top of her scalp. Then a horrible buzzing noise sounded as thousands of different insects - moths, grasshoppers, crickets, bees - flew out of her mouth.

Mad men, hundreds of them, all bunched together. Fingers ravenous, eyes glazed and crazy as they muttered and mumbled. Only one of them was understandable, singing over and over again, "Son of a hundred maniacs, son of a hundred maniacs…"

A head shaking appeared; moving so rapidly that no face could be seen.

A bladed finger sank deep into flesh, blood pooled around its entry.

Chinese symbols, written on torn, water stained paper. More water dropped on to it and the ink ran, showing it was not mere ink, but blood.

Red and green stripes.

Wild horse, frothing at the mouth, eyes bloodshot and wild, hoofs kicking about madly. His madness died as he let out a pitiful whinny, powerful sleek body twisting left to right before he collapsed. Dead.

Twitching light bluish green eye surrounded by burn scared flesh.

A man walked out of black shadows, his outline clearly showing a hat and glove with long knives for fingers on one hand.

Several white, bloated dead bodies floated up and out of dark, murky waters.

The man is drawing nearer again; movements sneaky but ragged as he comes into view. He wore an old beat-up brown fedora and his face was horribly burned. He had light blue eyes and was wearing a red and green sweater, his one hand encased in a glove with razor fingers. He wore the most evil smile on his face, showing rotted teeth as he tossed his head back and laughed.

A well surrounded by trees. The sound of static filled the air as a frenzy of black and white danced about.

Darkness and then a light as Julie Pakerdingle Smith gave her twenty-four students a warm smile. A few looked bored, others looked startled and a few were giggling among themselves. Julie shook her head and left the light switch to approach her desk, facing the front of the class, "Now, what did we think of this film?"

No one seemed eager to raise their hand. Julie couldn't help but smirk slightly; proud to finally be in possession of a film that stumped her kids. More often than not she showed a film like 'Citizen Kane' or 'Vertigo' and the kids were able to break down its meaning and all the symbolism there in. Even newer films like 'American Beauty' and 'Amile' were easily broken down.

She had been surprised when her ex-husband George had sent her the tape. He had never shown any interest in her work before but this time she was really glad he had. If only she knew who made this film - its title, its director. She viewed it as a real piece of art. There were so many facets to it.

Finally one student lifted an uneasy hand, she pointed to it, "Yes, Elijah."

The boy squirmed, fiddling with his pencil on his desk, slouched deep in his seat as he answered, "Um…it's a student art film. Right? Because it seemed very low key and not - not high tech at all. And…um...a lot of it was…an expression of pain."

"Interesting. Why do you say that?" Julie leaned back against her own desk, arms crossed, light glinting off her glasses as she looked thoughtfully in his direction. Elijah was one of her best students but he rarely spoke. This day really was turning out to be quite a treat.

Elijah squirmed some more, dark head tossing from side to side but eventually he spoke again, voice whisper soft, "The film was full of - of painful things. Like the fire for example, and the - the blade sinking into that flesh. And then the horse dropped dead and-"

Several students giggled and Elijah's face went red. Julie snapped her attention to them, "Class! This is college, not high school, must I remind you again. I know most of you are freshmen but I expected you to try and at least act like young adults. After all, that's half of what this class is about, hmm? Acting? So how about we earn those Oscars."

A few more chuckles but everyone settled. Elijah had almost sunk down to the floor but Julie flashed him a dazzlingly smile, "Please, Mr. Kent, continue."

His hand scratched at the back of his head as he lifted himself up a bit more, "Uh…well that was really about it."

"Okay, well it was very good. Yes, I agree, I too think the film showed a lot of pain. Obviously its director was struggling, you know, showing real pains in his or her work."

Another hand shot up, "Yes, Ms. Cooper."

"You said 'his or her', you don't know who made this film?"

"No, actually, nor its title bu-"

"Well then how are we supposed to review this? We have - like - no way to relate it back to the director's previous work for handholds or even credit them!"

"Lissa, I am very well aware of that but I think it's important that we critique all types of films. Now this is the first piece I have ever come across with such…depth, such emotion. There is pain here, as Mr. Kent noted. There is anguish and horror and just an amazing scope to this work by an anonymous. It's shame it even is untitled. Yes, Ms. Matthews?"

An extremely tall, svelte blonde sat up, "Ms. Smith, couldn't we just name the film ourselves?"

Julie pressed a finger to her chin in thought, "Well now, Susan, that's interesting…currently this work is unclaimed…I don't see the harm in our labeling it as a class. Any ideas?"

"I got one," Carter Willis remarked dryly.

"And what is that, Mr.Willis?"

"P.O.S."

"POS?"

"Yeah, it's an abbreviation for 'Piece of Shi-"

"Carter!" Julie gasped, outraged, several students giggled again but this was cut short as Susan remarked, "I'm surprised you even know what 'abbreviation' means, Carter."

A smirk merely took the boy's handsome face; "I know a lot of things, Suzy. How about later I show you?"

"No thanks." She remarked crisply, tossing one long sheet of her ice blonde hair over her shoulder, "I'm taken."

"I'm free." Lissa added, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

"Now, now class this is not 'The Dating Game'. Let's get back to the topic on hand and in the future, Carter, please watch your mouth or you will find yourself evicted from this classroom. You dig?"

Carter merely raised his hands in apology and Julie sighed, relaxing, "Now, does anyone have anything else to say about this film? Opinions, thoughts, criticism…a title?"

Alanis Smart raised a hand and Julie pointed at her, "Personally I didn't enjoy the film. I found it to be creepy."

"Creepy?"

"Yeah, I mean there were only four sounds in the movie - the endless rising and falling squealing soundtrack, the men singing that song, that one man laughing, and the horse. Not to mention the bald woman with the flaming head and bugs. I mean that was just…" Alanis stuck her tongue out and shuddered.

Elaine Rivers jumped in, "I agree with her, I mean there were lots of scenes in the film that were just for scary show. Like the floating bodies and that shaking thing. A head in a bag or something and then there were scenes that just made no sense whatsoever and led to nothing. Like the director led you to think one thing was blood but then it turned out to be candle wax and what was with the mirror scene? I personally didn't think it was well put together. Where was the story?"

Elijah sat up again, blue eyes narrowed, "You just didn't get it."

Elaine scoffed, "Excuse me?!"

"The film wasn't supposed to have a plot or characters or anything like that. It was an art piece. An expression of pain."

"Yeah, and you'd know a lot about that, wouldn't you spaz?" Carter tossed in and a lot of people started laughing again.

Julie slammed a hand on the desk and everyone shot their attention to her, "Class! What did I say about your behavior? College! Not high school! Thank you, and Mr. Willis, I believe you were warned! Now, I enjoy a healthy debate amongst my students about the subject of a film but I refuse to have you all fall into childish name calling!"

The collective group moved about in their seats, all looking sheepish, a red headed man raised a hand and Julie sighed, acknowledging him with a weary tone, "Richard."

Richard Newman was far older than all the other students and spoke with something of a wheeze, "I - I thought the film was well put together. Except for some editing problems and the - the static."

"Good point. Anyone else?"

Once more the students seemed silent. Julie knew the class was close to ending and a lot of the students looked restless and bored. A few looked thoughtful and a small few actually looked…scared? She noticed one girl in particular looked edgy and she pointed to her, "Ms. Takamai?"

The girl practically squeaked at hearing her name, "Y-yes?"

"Michelle, what did you think of the movie?"

"It - it scared me."

Once more students scoffed, especially Carter, "Aw come on, it was just a movie! A stupid, dumb movie!"

"But…but…didn't any of you feel - feel," Michelle swallowed and looked down at her desk, "Oh-oh never mind."

"Michelle, it's okay. I'm sure a lot of people felt the way you did but aren't brave enough to face up to that," Julie rubbed in, eyes on Carter who merely shrugged and laughed, his face saying he thought she was full of it, she continued regardless, "The film had many disturbing images."

"Yeah, but tastefully so."

This voice came from Giselle Hall. She was one of Julie's other star pupils, "The images were stark, frightening - but like Elijah said, they expressed the director's pain but more than pain, it expressed the film makers anger. The horse, the bald woman, the head in the bag, bodies floating in the water…that was all about death. Maybe deaths the director caused in answer to their pain."

"Freaky." Lissa muttered under her breath.

"Hmm, possible." Julie looked at the clock again and sighed, "All right, class is reaching its end but before I let you go I'm assigning an essay," the normal amount of groans rose from the class as she went on, "That is due next time we met. I want you to compare and contrast this film to one of the other pieces we have seen this semester. Double-spaced, font sized twelve. When you come back I may have a project in mind, so be prepared. Have a good evening."

With that the air filled with the normal sounds of class ending. Chairs scrapping against the floor and bags being shuffled. Elijah looked in Giselle's direction. The girl's dark chestnut curls bounced about her shoulders as she collected her things. Her smoky eyes rose and locked with his. Elijah swallowed, heart pounding in his ears as she gave him a casual smile.

She pushed her backpack over her shoulder and left, leaving him to stare after her. Susan came up to him then, her height causing her to tower over him, she patted a hefty hand on his back, "Hey there, kid."

"Don't call me that!" Elijah muttered.

She playfully ruffled his hair and he shoved her away, she stuck out her lower lip, looking offended, "Aw, what's your problem?"

He looked off in the direction he'd last seen Giselle. She was gone and no where to be found, but still…

"I don't want…you know."

"Ohhh, her again, huh?" Susan teased, "So why don't you just ask her out all ready?"

"She and I are from two completely different worlds. I mean she's…outgoing and popular and…and…"

"Elijah, like Ms. Smith loves to say, this is college, not high school. There aren't any 'cliques'. You're not the geek and she's not the prom queen. Just ask her."

"No cliques, huh? Then what do you call that?" Elijah pointed in the direction of Carter, who was surrounded by other burly boys in the class, obviously his buddies, as well as cooing girls in the form of Lissa, Elaine, and Alanis.

"What? Carter's clan? Oh those are just kids who haven't grown up yet. Sad really."

"Well considering he's on the football team, all his friends are on the football team and most of those girls are either cheerleaders or girl lacrosse players, well…what was it you said about there not being cliques here?"

"Okay, okay I get your point but Giselle isn't like that. I've talked to her before and she's a real sweet girl, we've even hung out a couple of times, done some shopping…I mean, yeah, she's gorgeous and everyone likes her and I'm sure lots of hot guys ask her out every day but-"

Elijah scowled at her, "What are you trying to do exactly?"

"I'm trying to cheer you up! Swear!" Susan whined, looking properly chagrined at how badly her words were coming out, at last she let out a fed-up little breath, "Look, you don't have to ask her out but my advice is that you do. I mean otherwise I'll do it."

"And upset your girlfriend? I don't think so - she'd kick your ass!"

Susan laughed and ruffled his hair again, "True, true. So you going to come by our place later?"

"Sure, I have to go to work, don't I?"

Susan and her girlfriend lived above Persephone Café, a small business Susan's Dad owned. They both ran it and Elijah had gotten a job there upon moving to the City for school. He had immediately hit it off with them. Which was good, considering he was characteristically shy and it was hard for him to make friends with anyone.

Still, his words made her roll her eyes, "Yeah but I meant it more along the lines of our liking you and wanting to hang out. We can work on our paper together and maybe watch some DVDs. Got the first complete season of 'Starsky and Hutch'…you know you want to see it."

Elijah laughed, "Okay, you got me. I'm supposed to drop by Alex's for a bit and then I'll be there."

"Alex?"

"You know, Alex, he's Michelle's brother. My only other friend past you and-"

"Oh yeah, yeah I remember him now," Susan muttered then ruffled his hair again, "Well I'll see you later then."

She walked off confidently and Elijah shook his head, still chuckling as he followed suit.