The Extra-dimensional Pioneer Of Fiction [Draft]

[Tina's Home: Living Room]

The soft hum of Arlo's BrainLink echoed faintly in his ears as he laid out his tools on Tina's coffee table. The air in the room felt charged, thick with the metallic tang of anticipation. Tina sat rigid, her knuckles white as she gripped the armrests of her chair. Nancy leaned forward, her sharp eyes tracking Arlo's every move, while Glen slouched beside her, arms crossed in a facade of indifference.

Arlo's fingers brushed the deck of tarot cards, their edges worn from countless readings. The weight of their symbolism pressed against his thoughts. This isn't just a game, he reminded himself. These kids' lives are on the line.

"Let's start," Arlo said, his voice calm but firm, cutting through the silence. "With the Tarot Reading. This will help us uncover some underlying truths about your dreams, Tina."

Tina nodded, her breath hitching as Arlo shuffled the deck. The cards whispered against each other, a rhythmic shush-shush that seemed to sync with the frantic pulse in her throat. He laid three cards face down, their backs adorned with celestial patterns that glinted faintly in the lamplight.

"The first card," Arlo said, turning over [The Moon]

Arlo turned it over, the image of a lone wolf howling at a crescent moon stark against the card's ivory surface. "Confusion, fear, and illusion," he intoned. "You're being haunted by something you don't fully understand—a shadow that twists reality." Tina's breath caught, and Nancy's hand found hers, squeezing tightly.

The second card," he continued, flipping [The Tower]

Lightning split a crumbling spire on the next card. "Sudden upheaval. Destruction." Arlo's gaze locked onto Tina's. "Whatever's coming… it's violent. Unforgiving." 

Tina gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Nancy leaned closer, her brows furrowed, while Glen shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Arlo's gaze softened as he reached for the third card.

"And finally," he revealed, [The Devil]

The final card depicted a horned figure looming over chained souls. "Bondage. Malevolent forces." Arlo's voice dropped, the words heavy as stone. "This isn't just a nightmare, Tina. It's a predator."

Arlo thought about the final card it is quite fitting since Freddy is kinda a predator that stalk teenagers. Freddy Krueger wasn't just any monster. He didn't simply kill—he hunted. He stalked teenagers, invading their most vulnerable moments, twisting their dreams into his personal hunting grounds. Unlike other killers, Freddy thrived on fear, drawing strength from the terror of his victims. He wasn't mindless; he was calculating, patient. He enjoyed the psychological torment as much as the kill itself, savoring the way his victims broke before he finished them.

In many ways, he was the embodiment of true Fear, a force that couldn't be outrun or avoided. Sleep was inevitable, and that's when he struck. A predator in the truest sense, Freddy didn't just haunt dreams; he made them his playground, a domain where he was the undisputed master.

Tina clung to Nancy's arm, visibly shaken. "What does it mean?" she whispered. "Am I cursed?"

"No," Arlo said firmly, setting the cards aside. "These are warnings, not curses. They're telling us to be vigilant and prepared. Whatever's haunting your dreams is dangerous, but it's not unstoppable."

Glen frowned. "You really believe all this? It sounds like something out of a bad horror movie."

Arlo smirked faintly. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't. I've seen enough to know that sometimes, the things we can't explain are the most real."

Nancy exchanged a glance with Glen before focusing back on Arlo. "So, what do we do? How do we help her?"

"I'll need more insight," Arlo replied, pulling out his topaz pendulum. "This is a Spirit Pendulum. It helps confirm the truth behind the unseen." He held it steady over Tina's palm and thought seven times: Tina is in danger tonight, letting its energy guide the motion.

"It's worse than I thought," Arlo said, his voice grave. "Tina, whatever this is, it's going to come for you soon. Likely tonight."

Tina's face turned pale, her fear palpable. "What do I do? How do I stop it?"

"We'll figure it out," Arlo assured her. His mind raced with plans and contingencies. Freddy Krueger wasn't just a nightmare; he was a predator. Arlo would need every ounce of cunning and skill to protect her.

Nancy, ever the pragmatist, crossed her arms. "We need to stick together. If this thing is real, we can't let Tina face it alone."

"Agreed," Arlo said, meeting her gaze. "But we have to tread carefully"

.....

Arlo sat in silence, his thoughts a storm of strategies and contingencies as Tina's fear echoed in the stillness of the room. She clung to Nancy, while Glen paced nervously by the window, glancing out at the suburban street as if expecting Freddy Krueger to materialize. The eerie quiet of Tina's house seemed amplified, like the calm before a nightmare's descent.

"I'm going to try something dangerous," Arlo said finally, his tone steely. "Dream divination."

"What's that?" Tina asked, her voice quivering.Arlo explained. "Dream divination is... complicated. In essence, it's a process where I project my astral body into the spirit world while I'm in a dream state. It allows me to gain revelations, to see things that aren't easily visible in the waking world."

Tina tilted her head, her arms crossed. "You're saying you can dream on purpose? And... control it?"

"In a way," Arlo replied, meeting her skeptical gaze. "It's more focused than ordinary dreaming. But," he paused, leaning forward, "it's not without its risks."

The room fell silent, tension thick in the air. Finally, Tina whispered, "Alright. If you think it'll help."

"I'll need privacy," Arlo said, standing and motioning toward the door.

"It's easier to focus without distractions." Nancy hesitated, glancing at Tina, but nodded. "We'll give you space." She ushered Tina and Glen out of the room, closing the door softly behind them.

Now alone, Arlo exhaled deeply, the weight of his decision pressing down on him. This is reckless, he thought, retrieving a sheet of paper and a pen from his bag. He scrawled the question "Is Tina Gray in danger tonight?" seven times, the words feeling heavier with each repetition.

Placing the paper on the table, he closed his eyes and began to enter cogitation. His breathing slowed, his thoughts narrowing to the singular question before him. The room around him faded, and his body felt light, as if unmoored from the physical plane.

Arlo's breathing slowed, his consciousness slipping deeper as his eyes darkened, taking on an almost abyssal hue. The room around him faded into a formless expanse, and a boundless fog stretched endlessly above and below. It felt both vast and claustrophobic, as if the very air weighed heavily on his chest.

In this strange void, Arlo tried to steady himself. His thoughts were sharp despite the surreal setting. Focus on the task. Find the if Tina is in danger. Get the answers.

Moments later, he blinked and found himself back in the living room of Tina's house.When Arlo opened his eyes again, he was still in Tina's living room or so it seemed. The furniture was there, the walls unchanged, but the atmosphere was wrong. A dense fog coiled along the floor, and the air carried a metallic tang. His Danger Intuition flared violently, warning him that something was terribly off.

"Tina? Nancy? Glen?" Arlo called out, his voice echoing strangely in the room.

No reply came. The silence was deafening, oppressive. This isn't the real world, he realized grimly. Shit.... I'm in the Dream World.

....

Arlo stood in the distorted version of Tina's living room, his senses heightened as the oppressive fog seeped into every corner of the space. His Danger Intuition was screaming, a constant pulse in his mind like the blare of an alarm. He clenched his fists, his breathing measured, as his eyes darted across the room.

A voice echoed, low and mocking, dripping with malice. "Well, well... what do we have here?" The words slithered into Arlo's ears, sending a chill down his spine.

Turning slowly, Arlo saw the unmistakable silhouette of Freddy Krueger materializing from the shadow. The red-and-green sweater stretched across his hunched frame, his fedora casting a shadow over his scarred face. But it was the glove, the infamous bladed glove glinting in the dim light, that held Arlo's attention.

"My, my, a brave little dreamer, aren't you?" Freddy crooned, his voice like nails on a chalkboard. He took a menacing step forward, dragging the blades along the wall, leaving deep, jagged scars in the wood. "You've got some guts stepping into my world."

He took a step closer, the loose black trousers and scuffed work boots making an eerie thud-thud against the cracked pavement of the dream world. "You're not running. Brave or stupid? I haven't decided yet."

Arlo's heart pounded, but he forced himself to stand his ground. He feeds on fear, Arlo reminded himself. His Danger Intuition was intensely like an air-raid siren, every fiber of his being urging him to flee, but he pushed the instinct aside.

"And here I thought Famous Freddy krueger would be taller," Arlo quipped, his voice steadier than he expected

Freddy stopped, tilting his head as if appraising Arlo. "You've got a big mouth on you, kid," he said, the grin widening.

"That's good. Makes it more fun when they scream." He raised his bladed glove, tapping the knives together in a rhythmic ting-ting.

"I'm not here to play your game," Arlo shot back, his eyes narrowing as he tried to assess the dream world around him. "I'm here for answers." He shifted his weight subtly, keeping Freddy in his line of sight but ready to move if needed.

Freddy's grin faltered for a fraction of a second, replaced by a look of mock pity. "Answers? Oh, kid, this is my world," he hissed, taking another step forward. "There's only one question that matters: how loud will you scream?"

Arlo didn't reply, his mind racing as he tried to formulate a plan. Freddy was toying with him, but the predator's gaze told Arlo that the real danger was only just beginning. Stay calm. Stay focused. If he feeds on fear, don't give him a feast.

Freddy chuckled, low and guttural, his eyes glinting with sadistic glee. "Come on, tough guy," he said, spreading his arms wide in mock invitation. "Show me what you've got."

Arlo's grip tightened around the idea of resistance—not physical, but mental. He had to disrupt Freddy's control, bend the dream world to his advantage, or at least keep Freddy distracted long enough to figure out an escape.

"Sorry," Arlo said evenly, forcing himself to smirk. "You're not in my top Ten Fears. Maybe try being a clown next time."

Freddy's grin twisted into a snarl, and the air around them seemed to grow colder. Arlo braced himself, knowing the nightmare was far from over.

=================================================

Arlo's heart raced as he assessed the dire situation. He immediately used [Observe]:

[Status Info]Name: Freddy Krueger

Race: Dream Demon

Level: 15

HP: 180/180

MP: 185/185

[Stat Info]

Strength: 11

Dexterity: 15

Intelligence: 14

Charisma: -20

Luck: 5

Endurance: 16

Wisdom: 17

Status: Immortal / Blessed by Dream Demon

Skills: Dream Manipulation (6/10), Dream Snares (8/10), Dream Projection (7/10), Nightmare Inducement (8/10), Fear Affinity (8/10)

Description: The Iconic dream-stalking killer, Once a child murderer, he was burned alive by vengeful parents but returned as a supernatural entity who kills people in their dreams.His appearance are burned face, red-and-green sweater, fedora, and bladed glove, Freddy manipulates nightmares, shapeshifts, and taunts victims with his dark humor.

Threat Level: Extremely Dangerous

His Observe had revealed Freddy Krueger's stats, a terrifying array of abilities centered around manipulation and terror.

"Figures," Arlo muttered under his breath, gripping the wooden stick he'd found. "No inventory, no backup. Of course, this place plays by Freddy's rules."

Freddy lunged with his bladed glove, the claws slicing through the air with a menacing whistle. Arlo sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the strike. He picked a wooden stick and countered with a wild swing of the wooden stick, the impact landing on Freddy's arm but having no visible effect.

Freddy chuckled, his twisted grin widening.

Freddy chuckled, his scarred face splitting into a twisted grin. "Is that all you've got, boy?" His voice dripped with mockery. "You're not even a warm-up."

Arlo pressed on, attacking with everything he had. He swung the stick again and again, but Freddy evaded each blow with unnerving ease, his movements fluid and unnatural. Frustration bubbled in Arlo's chest as Freddy lashed out, catching Arlo's wrist in an iron grip. The claws of Freddy's glove hovered inches from Arlo's face.

Freddy lashed out, catching Arlo's wrist in an iron grip. Pain shot up his arm as Freddy's claws hovered inches from his face. "I'm going to fucking enjoy this," Freddy hissed, his breath acrid and hot.

Arlo struggled, but Freddy's grip was unyielding. His wooden stick slipped from his fingers, clattering onto the twisted dream world beneath them.

Arlo's mind raced. He couldn't rely on brute strength. This was a dream. Freddy had power here but that meant Arlo did, too.

"Imagination," he whispered to himself, clinging to the thought like a lifeline. The dream world could be manipulated. Freddy wasn't the only one who could twist reality to his will.

The air around them shifted. A dense, grayish-white fog rolled in, swallowing the fragmented landscape. Freddy's grin faltered, his eyes flicking around.

"What's this?" he muttered, his tone shifting from amusement to irritation.

When his gaze snapped back to Arlo, the boy was no longer the same. In his place stood a figure clad in a black windbreaker, its hood shadowing a blank, featureless mask. The mere sight of it radiated unease.

Freddy tilted his head. "Oh, so you've got some tricks, huh? Think you can scare me with your little wardrobe change?"

Arlo, or what Freddy perceived as Arlo, took a step forward. The blank mask radiated an unsettling aura, its emptiness daring Freddy to decipher it. Inside, Arlo's thoughts raced as he clung desperately to his makeshift persona. The Fool—a mask of secrecy and change inspired by his past memories of Lord of the Mysteries. But this wasn't just an aesthetic choice. Every fiber of his being screamed danger, and the mad whispers of an alien consciousness gnawed at his resolve.

Freddy's bravado wavered, if only slightly. He flexed his clawed fingers, a nervous tic. "Cute," he said, trying to regain control. "But I've seen scarier Halloween costumes."

Without a word, Arlo extended an arm, and from his sleeve, inky black tendrils slithered forth, writhing like living shadows. They lunged at Freddy with unnatural speed, wrapping around his torso and pulling him backward. Freddy snarled, slashing wildly. Each strike severed one tendril, but more sprang forth in their place, latching onto his limbs, dragging him down

Freddy growled. "You think this'll hold me?"

The tendrils constricted, pressing tighter. Then the first maggot appeared, wriggling out from the black mass. Then another. Then dozens. They poured over Freddy's body, burrowing into the fabric of his sweater, wriggling under his skin.

Freddy screamed, thrashing wildly. "GET THESE OFF ME, YOU FREAK!"

Arlo then laughed maniacally, the sound raw and unhinged. It wasn't the forced bravado of someone trying to mask fear—it was the laughter of a man standing on the precipice of madness, teetering over the edge. Imagining the Fool wasn't just a mask; it was consuming him.

A part of his rational mind screamed in warning, but it was drowned out by the eldritch whispers clawing at his thoughts, urging him further into insanity. He felt an intoxicating exhilaration, a sick hunger to see Freddy suffer, to take this beyond mere control, beyond anything sane. And for the briefest moment, he wondered if he had already gone too far.

Freddy clawed at his own body, tearing away chunks of his own flesh in his frantic attempt to rid himself of the infestation. His screams turned guttural, primal. The dreamworld around them flickered and warped as his control wavered.

Arlo raised a hand, and the tentacles lifted Freddy into the air before slamming him onto the jagged ground. The impact sent cracks radiating outward, and Freddy's body flickered, his form destabilizing. But even in this weakened state, he grinned through gritted teeth. "That all you got?"

Arlo felt the strain of maintaining his dream construct. The raving whispers in his mind grew louder, clawing at his sanity, urging him to let go, to let the madness take over completely.

Freddy took advantage of the lapse. With a burst of strength, he wrenched free from the tendrils, lunging forward in a blur of movement. His claws slashed, carving through the air. Arlo barely dodged, the razors grazing his shoulder, tearing through his dream-forged windbreaker. Pain flared—sharp and real.

Blood dripped onto the warped ground.

Arlo clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay focused. He willed the tendrils to strike again, but Freddy was relentless, weaving through them, closing the gap.

A faint glimmer of light appeared in the distance. A doorway.

Salvation.

Freddy saw it too. "Oh no, you don't," he growled, surging forward.

Desperation fueled Arlo's next move. He slammed his tendrils into the ground, creating a shockwave that sent Freddy hurtling backward. The dream demon shattered like glass, reforming a few feet away, but the delay was enough.

Desperation surged through Arlo as he raised the tentacles one final time, slamming them into the ground. The shockwave sent Freddy hurtling backward, his form splintering into shards of shadow. Arlo turned and sprinted toward the doorway, each step a battle against the encroaching madness.

As he reached the doorway, Freddy's voice echoed behind him, low and menacing. "This isn't over, kid. Not by a long shot."

Arlo didn't look back. He leaped through the light, his body lurching forward as he woke with a gasp in Tina's living room. His head pounded, and his body felt heavy, but he was alive.

Nancy burst into the room, followed by Tina and Glen, their faces pale with concern. "What happened?" Nancy asked, her voice trembling.

Arlo steadied his breathing, glancing at the faint marks on his shoulder. "Just a nightmare," he said, his voice hoarse. "But it's only the beginning."