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79.16% Terror Infinity: Shadowed Endgame / Chapter 38: **Chapter 38: The Sleepover**

บท 38: **Chapter 38: The Sleepover**

**Rod's Come to Play**

Not long after their awkward exchange and Glen's half-hearted apology, a sudden, piercing screech shattered the calm atmosphere. The sound was metallic and grating, like nails dragging across steel. Everyone froze, the lighthearted chatter dying instantly.

"What the hell was that?" Glen asked, standing up abruptly, his expression shifting from annoyance to concern.

"It came from the backyard," Tina said, her voice low and cautious. She glanced at Nancy, her earlier smile replaced by unease.

Kris, unfazed as ever, smirked and grabbed his beer. "Relax, probably just the wind or a raccoon knocking over the trash. You guys jump at everything."

He leaned back in his seat, clearly unbothered. Kris already had a good idea of what was happening—it was Rod pulling one of his antics.

But then the sound came again, louder this time. It wasn't random or chaotic—it was deliberate, dragging long and slow as if someone was trying to get their attention.

Glen stood, his hands clenching into fists. "I'm checking it out."

Nancy groaned, shaking her head. "Why do you always have to be the brave one?" She grabbed Glen's arm, half-hiding behind him as she peered toward the backyard.

"And wait, don't leave me behind—I'm coming too," Tina said, latching onto Glen's other arm.

Kris rolled his eyes, sipping his beer. Glen couldn't fight off anybody if he wanted to—not with both girls hanging onto him like that.

Before Glen could argue, Kris set his beer down and stretched lazily. "Alright, might as well check this out while we're all at it."

Tina shot him an annoyed glance but said nothing.

The group made their way toward the sliding glass door that led to the backyard. The night outside was eerily still. The dim glow of the porch light cast long, flickering shadows across the lawn. A chilly breeze rustled the trees, and the faint sound of crickets filled the air—except where the screeching had come from. That part of the yard was silent.

Glen stepped out first, puffing up his chest like he was about to face off with the unknown. Tina and Nancy followed cautiously, stopping just past the porch, their gazes darting nervously around the yard. Kris hung back near the doorway, casually observing.

Glen froze near the middle of the yard, turning to deliver what Kris immediately recognized as the lamest, most unconvincing threat he'd ever heard.

"Alright, whoever's out there," Glen said, his voice cracking slightly, "you better show yourself, or… or else!"

Kris barely suppressed a laugh. He knew Rod had to be nearby, and Glen's attempt at bravado wasn't going to scare anyone.

Suddenly, the screeching sound ripped through the air again—this time, directly behind them.

They all spun around, hearts pounding, but there was nothing there. Just empty darkness stretching toward the fence.

Kris finally let out a laugh, shaking his head. "Okay, who's pulling a prank? Come on, show yourself!"

Everyone turned to him, confused by his amusement. Glen's eyes narrowed as he turned back toward the yard—just in time to miss the figure lunging at him from the shadows.

A startled yelp escaped Glen as he hit the ground, tackled by none other than Rod. "Gotcha!" Rod shouted triumphantly, laughing like a maniac.

Tina gasped and then groaned, smacking Rod on the shoulder as he clumsily got to his feet, still grinning. "Rod! Seriously? What's wrong with you?"

Nancy folded her arms, glaring at him. "Do you have to scare people like that? It's not funny!"

Rod just shrugged, stumbling slightly as he straightened up. "Oh, come on, it's just a joke! You all looked like you'd seen a ghost."

Kris smirked, finally stepping off the porch. "Honestly, Rod, I expected better. That was weak."

Rod pointed at Kris, laughing. "Yeah, well, you're the only one who didn't jump. I gotta step up my game with you around."

Kris chuckled, offering Rod a mock salute. "Looking forward to it, champ."

As the group's tension slowly faded, Tina and Nancy resumed their complaints, while Glen sat on the ground, dusting himself off and muttering curses under his breath.

---

**It's Freddy This Time**

While Rod practically dragged Tina up the stairs, he threw a not-so-subtle remark at the remaining people about an orgy.

Kris smirked at Glen's poor attempt to make a move on Nancy, who shot him down instantly.

Kris watched as Nancy walked past him, clearly uninterested in playing along with Glen's advances. She made her way into the living room, settling down with a sigh, her mood distant.

As the empathetic guy he was, Kris clapped Glen on the shoulder and said, "Guess I'm not the only one not getting any action tonight, huh, buddy? Looks like you'll be dealing with blue balls for the foreseeable future."

"Shut up, man! You're just making it worse." Glen's face was a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. "You don't know how loud those two get. You'll be having the same problems soon enough."

Kris chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Huh, so is it too late to convince Nancy for a little ménage à trois then?"

Glen shot Kris a death glare, his hand coming up as if to swat him away. But when he saw Kris' teasing grin, he shook his head in defeat. "You're impossible."

---

After a bit of small talk and playful banter, the mood slowly shifted back to a pleasant tone. Kris, Glen, and Nancy found themselves clicking effortlessly, the chemistry between them growing stronger as the evening wore on. Kris had successfully integrated himself into the little group, and the easygoing vibe between them made it feel like they'd known each other much longer than just a few hours.

They sat in the living room, surrounded by the warm glow of the lamp, the faint hum of the old house adding to the atmosphere. As they passed around beers and laughed, their conversation drifted from lighthearted stories to more personal ones. They were all getting comfortable, enjoying the simplicity of the moment.

However, as time passed, the moans and grunts from upstairs, which had initially been awkward but tolerable, began to fade into the background. It was as if they'd successfully blocked them out, the noise no longer affecting their conversation. For a moment, it almost felt like everything was normal.

But that comfort was short-lived. Without warning, a shrill, blood-curdling scream for help sliced through the air—a sound so primal and raw that it immediately froze all of them in place. The room, once filled with the casual chatter of new friends, was now silent except for the distant echoes of that horrible scream.

---

**A brawl with Freddy**

Kris didn't waste a second. Using *Soru*, he practically teleported up the stairs, moving with blinding speed. In his hand, his new weapon, *Thoughts and Prayers*, gleamed faintly in the dim light, radiating an energy of resolve.

Reaching the door to the room Tina and Rod were in, Kris didn't hesitate. He kicked it open with a powerful strike, the wood splintering under his force. The chaotic scene inside stopped him in his tracks for a fraction of a second. Tina was thrashing on the bed, entangled in the white sheets, her screams muffled but desperate.

Without a second thought, Kris rushed forward, ripping the sheets off her with a swift motion. He barely registered her tiny white panties as he activated *GYO*. His eyes flared with focus, and for the first time, he saw him—Freddy Krueger, the Springwood Slasher.

Freddy loomed over Tina, his grotesque figure trying to claw at her face with murderous intent. Kris lunged at him without hesitation, tackling Freddy off the bed and sending both of them crashing to the floor.

"Run!" Kris shouted, his voice snapping Tina out of her terrified daze. She scrambled to the corner, clutching at Rod, who stood frozen in shock, his pale confused face reflecting the horror of the scene.

Kris wasted no time, hammering his knuckle-duster-clad fists into Freddy's scarred face. Each blow landed with brutal efficiency, the impact forcing a growl of pain from the killer. Freddy's grotesque smile faltered as he realized something was different—this kid was able to punch him and actually hurt him.

Freddy slashed at Kris with his claws, his blades grazing Kris's shoulder and drawing blood. Kris ignored the pain, his adrenaline surging as he rained down punch after punch. The room echoed with the harsh rhythm of flesh meeting steel, Freddy's twisted laughter replaced by grunts of pain.

The commotion drew Glen and Nancy, who burst into the room. Glen, seeing Kris pummeling what appeared to be a shadowy figure, assumed the worst. "Kris, stop! What the hell are you doing?!" he shouted, rushing to pull Kris off.

Nancy stood frozen, her eyes darting between Rod, who was in his underwear clutching Tina in the corner, and the chaos unfolding on the floor.

Glen grabbed Kris's arm, trying to hold him back, but Freddy took advantage of the distraction. With a snarl, Freddy landed a vicious punch to Kris's face, momentarily stunning him. Freddy bolted for the window, his claws smashing through the glass as he leapt outside.

"Not so fast," Kris growled, his hand shooting out and grabbing Freddy's ankle, the hand equipped with *Prayers* gripped and locked in tight. Freddy let out a shriek of frustration as Kris yanked him back, dragging them both out of the window and into the backyard.

They hit the ground hard, but Kris recovered first. Pinning Freddy beneath him, he unleashed a barrage of strikes, his street-fighting instincts taking over. Each blow sent vibrations through his arms, but Freddy wasn't going down easily.

Realizing that brute force wouldn't be enough, Kris began chanting the Buddhist scriptures he had learned. As his voice grew louder, Freddy's grotesque body began to smoke, wisps of black vapor rising from his wounds. Light began to seep from the gashes Kris had inflicted, and Freddy's inhuman screams echoed into the night.

Kris didn't relent. Drawing on *Prayers*'s power, he activated its *Wall of Light* skill. A radiant barrier of light erupted, encasing Freddy's burning form. The energy surged, purifying the darkness as Freddy's body began to disintegrate.

When the light faded, all that remained were Freddy's tattered shirt and his iconic glove, lying on the scorched ground. Kris stood there, panting, his fists still clenched, the blood on his shoulder forgotten in the aftermath.

---

**Post Brawl Haze and The Police**

By the time the others arrived in the backyard, Kris was already lying flat on his back, chest rising and falling in desperate gasps.

His breath came in short, ragged bursts, each inhale a painful reminder of the brawl he'd just endured.

His vision swam with blurs of movement, the edges of the yard and Freddy fading into a dull haze.

He could feel the sticky warmth of his own blood against his skin, the throbbing ache in his ribs, and the burn in his throat from the effort of chanting buddhist scriptures as he pummeled the creep into the ground.

It was only when the adrenaline began to wear off that the reality of the situation fully hit him, leaving him shaky and cold.

He had barely realized what happened when his senses finally caught up to him.

The overwhelming sound of sirens, the flash of red and blue lights cutting through the dusk, and the murmurs of police officers filled his ears.

His body stiffened as he instinctively tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through his side, forcing him to fall back onto the stretcher. He let out a hiss, the paramedic at his side quickly urging him to lie still.

As Kris blinked and tried to gather his bearings, he noticed the cops already moving through the yard.

One of them was talking to a neighbor near the fence, scribbling notes in a small notepad, while another was examining the grounds around the house.

The air smelled faintly of blood, gasoline, and something metallic, an almost tangible reminder of the chaos that had unfolded.

Kris's head was still spinning, the shock settling into a cold numbness in his limbs.

"Hey, you with us?" a voice called from beside him. A paramedic, a woman in her thirties with a calm, practiced demeanor, was holding a damp cloth against the side of his face.

She was trying to clean him up, but the blood was still coming in slow trickles. "How are you feeling?"

Kris's throat felt tight as he tried to answer, but the words came out barely above a whisper. "I—I don't know… What happened?" His voice cracked, and he winced, the pain in his chest making him feel like he might lose his breath again.

The paramedic gave him a reassuring smile, though her eyes held the practiced concern of someone used to dealing with people in shock. "You're gonna be okay. Just try to stay still. The police are gonna ask you some questions, but don't try to talk too much right now. We'll take care of you."

His mind was foggy, but the idea of the cops talking to him snapped him back into a more focused state. Kris turned his head slightly, catching sight of one of the officers approaching.

This was it—he'd have to explain what happened, even if he wasn't entirely sure himself. He'd remember bits and pieces, but it was all hazy. The fight had been so fast, so chaotic, that the details felt like a jumbled mess in his head.

"One thing is for sure: he can't just outright tell the police that, they're in a movie with a killer who can manifest in your dreams, and that killer tried to kill his new buddy's girlfriend."

He tried to sit up again, ignoring the dizziness, but the paramedic gently pressed him back down, her gloved hands firm but not unkind. "You need to rest," she insisted. "We'll get you patched up and then the cops can talk to you."

But Kris could see the officer already walking toward him, notebook in hand. The officer's face was serious, scanning over Kris's injuries with a trained eye. "Sir, can you tell us what happened?" he asked, his tone firm but not unkind.

The cop was clearly used to people being in shock, and though his voice was professional, there was an edge of concern in his eyes.

Kris swallowed hard, his mouth dry. He tried to push the pain out of his mind, but it was all too overwhelming. His hands clenched at the stretcher beneath him, fingers shaking as he struggled to find his words.

"I... My freind was attacked," Kris finally managed, his voice hoarse. "The... The creep came out of nowhere. I was just trying to save my friend."

The cop nodded, taking down the information. "Do you know who they were?" he asked, but Kris could already feel the gaps in his memory widening. Freddy's face blurred, the sounds of fists hitting flesh, the rush of adrenaline and fear—it was all a mess.

"I... no. I don't know," Kris admitted, his chest tightening again as the helplessness of the situation hit him full force.

The officer didn't press, but his eyes lingered on Kris's face, as if trying to gauge whether there was more to the story than he was letting on.

Another paramedic arrived to check on Kris's vitals, but he barely noticed, too focused on the distant sound of Freddy's voices still echoing in his mind.

Through the flashing lights and the chaos, he was vaguely aware of the others arriving—friends, maybe, or family, but they were just shadows against the bright emergency lights.

Their faces blurred too, their voice blending into the background. All Kris could think about was the fight, the pain, and the uncertainty of what would happen next.

---

Hidden Achievement Unlocked!

Preemptive Kill: Killing the villain of the movie "A Nightmare on Elm Street" before the plot fully develops awards you a B-rank reward and 5,000 points.

---

**Aftermath and Recovery**

When Kris slowly regained consciousness, the sharp scent of antiseptic and the soft beeping of machines surrounded him. For a moment, his mind was a haze, and he couldn't quite make sense of where he was or how he'd gotten there. His body felt heavy, and a dull ache pulsed in his head. Then, as his senses sharpened, he realized the cold, sterile light of a hospital room enveloped him. He was lying in a bed, wearing nothing but a loose hospital gown. Panic started to rise in his chest.

He quickly pushed himself up, his hands searching the sheets and around the room. His fingers brushed against the metal of the bedframe, the coldness grounding him in the present. "My clothes, my gear—where are they?" he muttered to himself, his voice hoarse, throat dry.

Beside him, Biscuit was sitting still, her posture rigid, her eyes unfocused as if lost in thought. She had barely moved, the silence between them palpable. Kris watched her for a moment, noticing the tightness in her expression. She was wrestling with something, maybe with what had happened, or maybe with what they were going to do next.

Finally, she stirred, her gaze shifting to him. "Don't worry," she said softly, her voice breaking the tension in the air. "I arrived before you were sent to the hospital. I came here with you on board the ambulance. I made sure to keep your gear safe. I didn't let anyone take it." She reached into a bag beside her and pulled out the knuckle dusters, handing them to him with a reassuring smile.

Kris exhaled in relief. His fingers closed around the cool metal of the dusters, the familiar weight a comfort. "Thanks, master," he said, a hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "They were really effective against Freddy. I'd hate to lose them." The relief in his voice was palpable, and he couldn't help but feel a little more grounded with his trusted weapon back in his hands.

As he slid the dusters onto his fists, his eyes drifted to the wristwatch he was wearing. The sleek, digital display blinked with an unfamiliar notification symbol, a small but unmistakable alert. His heart skipped a beat. He was still a player in God's dimension, and that meant... it could mean anything.

He pressed the button to open the notification, and a new message popped up. Hidden Achievement Unlocked! it read. Preemptive Kill: Killing the villain of the movie "A Nightmare on Elm Street" before the plot fully develops awards you a B-rank reward and 5,000 points.

Kris blinked, processing the message. It was a strange feeling, being able to beat an opponent said to be unkillable, earning points in the process. But why does it seem so anticlimactic, and why does it leave such a hallow feeling in my gut? Anyway atleast got we came for, sure there's nothing worth being bummed about earning rewards, right?

He turned to Biscuit, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Looks like I've got a little bonus," he said, holding up the watch so she could see the message. "Unlocked a hidden achievement. 5,000 points. Guess I'm doing better than I thought."

Biscuit's eyes softened, and the heavy atmosphere that had lingered between them seemed to lift, just a little. She gave a small laugh, shaking her head. "You always manage to make things more interesting, Kris. Just don't make a habit of ending up in hospitals, alright?" She smiled, her usual stoic demeanor cracking for a moment as she let out a breath of relief.

Kris chuckled, feeling the tension between them ease. "No promises. But I'll try to keep the hospital visits to a minimum."

The room felt a little less suffocating now, the weight of their situation lightened by the small victory, and by the simple, human connection between them.


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