Chapter 130: Chapter 128: Bewitched Sleep Spell
Thump!
Thump!
Thump!
The rhythmic thumping at the door echoed like a heartbeat through the dimly lit room. Nancy's voice, a beacon of reassurance, called out with urgency, "Kristen!"
The response came, a thread of sound weaving through the stillness. "Come in!" Kristen's voice, though muffled by the barrier between them, was a lifeline to those adrift in the nightmare.
As Nancy pushed the door open, the light from the hallway spilled into the room, casting long shadows that danced like specters on the walls. She stepped inside, Jon trailing behind her.
"Kristen, how have you been lately?" Nancy's voice was a gentle caress, a stark contrast to the harsh reality that clawed at their minds.
Kristen's eyes, haunted pools reflecting a soul besieged by terror, met Nancy's. "I still dare not sleep!" Her voice was a whisper, a breeze that could be snuffed out by the overwhelming storm of her fear.
Jon observed the girl named Kristen, his heart heavy with the knowledge of her plight. Nancy had confided in him about Kristen who possessed a gift that was both a blessing and a curse—the ability to pull others into her dreams. This was the key to their plan.
"Don't worry, Kristen!" Nancy's words were a fortress against despair. She turned to Jon, the introduction a ritual of hope. "This is Kristen, Jon, the one I told you about before. She has the ability to pull people into her dreams."
Leaning closer, her voice a hushed secret meant only for Kristen, Nancy assured her, "Don't be afraid, he can help us."
Kristen's gaze shifted to Jon, her eyes wells of skepticism. "Are you... a new doctor?" she inquired, the weight of her past encounters with so-called healers heavy in her tone.
"No, I am an exorcist," Jon replied, finding a chair and settling into it with a disarming smile. His demeanor was the calm before the storm.
Kristen's frown deepened, her mind grappling with the implications. "So, you want to perform an exorcism on me? Why choose me? That guy has troubled more than just one person!"
Jon's smile was a crescent moon in the night of her doubt. "An exorcism? Well, it's different from what you're imagining. I always prefer simplicity~." He shook his head, his confidence a beacon in the fog of fear. "Miss Kristen, I've heard about your ability to pull people into your dreams. The reason I'm looking for you is to ask for your help. Next time you dream of Freddy, please pull me into your dream so I can deal with him."
Kristen's heart was a drumbeat of trepidation. "Are you sure? Even if you are an exorcist, in the world of dreams, Freddy is omnipotent. No one can defeat him!" Her words were a challenge, a gauntlet thrown at the feet of the impossible.
Jon's eyes met hers, and in them, she saw a reflection of her own resolve. "Miss Kristen, Nancy told me that you accidentally fell asleep yesterday and dreamed of Freddy."
Kristen's nod was a confirmation, a silent acknowledgment of her nightmare.
"And you said that Freddy was injured!" Jon pressed on, his voice a hammer chiseling away at the monolith of her fear.
Again, Kristen nodded, her movements a reluctant dance with hope.
Jon's smile held a touch of enigma, a knowing glint in his eyes that seemed to pierce through the veil of uncertainty. "So, who do you think injured him?" he asked, his tone light but loaded with implications.
Kristen's expression shifted from fear to shock, her eyes widening as she stared at Jon. "Was it you?!" she gasped, the possibility igniting a spark of hope amidst the dread.
"Yeah, but…" Jon's voice trailed off, his confidence unwavering. "Of course, you should believe what you see. Next time you dream of Freddy, just think of me and pull me in, and I will prove it to you."
Kristen's skepticism resurfaced, her head shaking slightly. "Thank you for your kindness, but... ever since I left my parents, I haven't been able to do that anymore!" Her admission was a whisper of vulnerability, a crack in her armor.
It was Nancy's turn to interject, her voice firm and encouraging. "But you did it last night, didn't you? You pulled me into your dream!"
"That's different!" Kristen protested, the memory of that night a flickering candle in the overwhelming darkness.
"You can't lose such a gift; you've just forgotten how to use it," Nancy insisted, her belief in Kristen unwavering. "Why not give it a try?"
After a moment of hesitation, Kristen's resolve hardened, and she nodded in agreement.
Jon gestured with a sense of finality. "So, we're agreed? Let me know before you go to sleep next time."
As Jon made to leave, Nancy's voice halted him. "It doesn't have to wait long, right?"
Her gaze met Jon's, a silent conversation passing between them. "We can use group hypnosis to put you and Kristen to sleep together, so you can appear in the dream at the same time!"
Jon's mind flickered to the movie, recalling the method they had used to confront Freddy. After a brief contemplation, he nodded. "I think that's a good idea."
He withdrew his Elder Wand, the instrument of his power, and added, "But hypnosis is too primitive and troublesome. Let's keep it simple, shall we?"
Nancy's frown was one of concern and curiosity. "What are you going to do?"
"Don't worry, there won't be any danger," Jon assured her, his wand now aimed at Kristen. He uttered the incantation, "Bewitched Sleep!"
A serene blue light emanated from the wand, caressing Kristen's forehead. Her resistance ebbed away as her eyelids grew heavy, and she succumbed to the induced slumber, her body relaxing into the chair.
"Kristen!" Nancy's voice was tinged with worry.
"Don't worry, she is just sleeping," Jon reassured her, his attention now on himself. "Don't wake us up before I come out."
With the same blue light now enveloping his own head, Jon allowed the spell to take him, his body mirroring Kristen's as he fell into a deep sleep.
***
The abrupt transition from the depths of sleep to the stark reality of her room left Kristen's heart pounding. The pen in her hand, the scattered homework, and the blaring music were anchors to normalcy, yet the dissonance of waking from a nightmare lingered like a sinister fog.
As the door swung open, the figure of her mother, garish in her evening makeup, seemed like a specter from a dream not yet faded. The music ceased, and her mother's voice, soft yet tinged with concern, cut through the silence. "Sweetheart, you'll wake the neighbors!"
"Why are you still up? It's past one o'clock!" The words were a gentle chide, a reminder of the world's expectations.
Kristen's voice was a mere whisper, her confusion palpable. "I... I wanted to wait for you to come back, Mom!" The relief in seeing her mother was a balm to her frayed nerves.
Her mother's smile was a beacon in the night, her movements tender as she prepared the bed. "I'm back now, and it's time for you to go to sleep. Come on, hurry up!"
The embrace they shared was a daughter's silent plea for comfort, for the assurance that the horrors of her dreams could not breach the sanctity of her reality. "I'm so glad you're back!" Kristen's voice was a mix of gratitude and lingering fear.
As Kristen nestled into bed, the confession slipped from her lips, "Mom, I had a terrible nightmare!"
"Elaine, where did you put the whiskey?" The intrusion of the man's voice from the living room was a jarring note, a reminder that she had a company.
"I'll be right back!" Her mother's response was a shout back, a brief interlude before she turned to Kristen with an apologetic expression. "Kristen, I have guests!"
Kristen's plea was a child's fear, raw and unguarded. "Please, Mom, I don't want to be alone!"
The indulgent smile on her mother's face was a promise, a silent vow that was shattered in an instant. The force that snatched her mother from the doorway was unseen but its violence was unmistakable, and her scream was a sound that would haunt Kristen forever.
"Mom?!" The word was a whisper, a hope against hope.
The horror that unfolded before Kristen's eyes was a grotesque tableau. Her mother reappeared, but not alone. The visage of Freddy, his face a tapestry of burns and malice, was a nightmare made flesh. His grip on her mother's neck was both a threat and a taunt.
"Where did you put the whiskey~?" Freddy's voice was a sinister purr, a mockery of the mundane question that had preceded the terror.
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