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corn-on-ja-cob-s · 2 years

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The Samhain-Verse

So I was literally just talking about how I need to learn to write FanFic but then I remembered: I already wrote fanfic! Like once. A few months ago. And I never finished it because it was meant to be an ongoing idea that was likely far too big for a first try.

But basically I like horror movies? Especially 80s slashers, they’re entertaining and strike the spooky mood without giving me anxiety attacks the way modern ones do. Like I can watch any Friday the 13th movie and love it, but I still haven’t made it through Hereditary without tapping out early because it’s just too much for me.

When you watch all these franchises way too often, you end up noticing weird trends. For example, Halloween and Friday the 13th both transitioned over time from being fairly realistic to having a more supernatural bent. Friday turned Jason from a killer hillbilly to a zombie to, like, a demon? Possibly created by the Necronomicon? Friday Part 9 is really weird. Halloween turned Michael from “just some asshole” to the supernatural agent of an ancient cult.

These retcons are, to be fair, really stupid and were all re-retconned out of existence by later movies. But man is there something appealing about them! Sure, the horror of Michael Meyers is that he’s just Some Guy who could kill you at any moment, and giving him an explanation of being cursed by some cult to kill his family completely undercuts that. It’s an example of how too much lore can really ruin something.

On the other hand, I play D&D and spend half my day on fan wikis, so lore is what keeps my heart pumping! So I decided to imagine an alternate universe where the supernatural elements of those franchises are completely real and are somehow related. Further, I decided to throw in my favorite franchise: Nightmare on Elm Street.

To be clear: I had no idea where any of this would be going. All I knew is that I was going to focus on Jesse from Elm Street 2 (my favorite of the franchise, fucking fight me), and that he was going to go to therapy with a disguised Loomis. Loomis is studying the nature of Evil from his experiences with Michael and is hunting down survivors like Jesse as part of it. Think the comic Nightmare Warriors, except there’s a legitimate focus on the survivors of these movies. Past that the story was a blank slate. If anything, it could’ve just turned into writing short stuff in a larger world without an explicit end goal, I really don’t know.

Anyways, this is all I wrote. Let me know what you think! Maybe enough attention or compliments will make me wanna write more, idk.

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Jesse swatted at his neck. He brought his hand in front of him and saw what remained of the cockroach that had been crawling on him. They had been all over the city recently; on the streets, in their apartment (god, they were everywhere in their apartment) and now in the buses. It was as if the heat wave had reached a point where mosquitos were no longer enough, now cockroaches were apparently the new in-bug.

He went to wipe the cockroach’s guts on his briefcase before thinking twice and wiping it on the bottom of the hard, red plastic bus seat near an ancient piece of greenish chewing gum. He could still feel where the cockroach had been crawling on him, making its way towards his pierced ear. The bus came to a stop, making his journey ever longer. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was on his way to death row, but he was just on his way to school.

To work. Not school; he hadn’t been to school in years. Busses always made him think of school, no matter what. He hated bus rides. But the heat was so unbearable that even the laboring fan on the bus was a welcome alternative to possibly passing out onto the blistering hot pavement and getting burns all over his-

Jessee closed his eyes and tried to recapture his breath. He began to count backwards from 10, 9,...

Why did I do this? Jesse thought. Why did I move to Arizona of all places couldn’t I have picked Alaska or Canada or anywhere where it wouldn’t feel like fire every day.

8, 7…

Jesse clenched his backpack in his hands.

6, 5…

I’m fine, everything is fine. It’s just hot, you made the right decision.

4, 3…

You’re in control.

2, 1.

Jesse opened his eyes. He wished he hadn’t. The bus wasn't downtown anymore, he wasn’t even sure it was the same bus he got on. It stretched on for infinity, letting him see every turn and bump the bus hit coming down seconds before it hit where he was. Through the windows he could see he was driving through his hometown of Springwood, Ohio.

He stood up, grabbed his backpack, and began desperately trying to make his way to the front of the bus. Jesse somehow knew the bus was bringing him home and he needed to get off before then. He began to run down the aisle, but every pothole the bus hit threatened to throw him to the ground. Jesse heard a voice call out his name, and his stomach lurched when he recognized who it was. He began to run even faster, but the front of the bus was too far.

Jesse saw the foot stick out after it had already tripped him. He hit his head on a lunchbox and felt things start to go dark. Fueled by adrenaline, he shook off the nausea and lifted his head up. He was no longer on the bus, he was pinned underneath some massive metal thing. The heat of it filled the small space, drying out his mouth and burning his eyes. He could barely move. What little he could budge burned against the metal.

“Help, god somebody help me!” Jesse rasped out, pressing the back of his head to the floor as hard as he could. Oh god please be a dream please be a dream. Jesse began to pinch himself, press his arm against his burning prison, anything to wake himself up. The sound of steam escaping from valves and chains rattling echoed around him.

Something grabbed Jesse by the foot and began to pull him out. He was thankful for a moment, and then was struck by the realization that he was being dragged out into a boiler room. He tried to pull his foot back, but a second hand clamped onto his leg. He tried to fight, but he had no room, no space to gain leverage. He was trapped, no matter what he did. He tried to find purchase on the metal above him, letting it burn him if it meant not going out there. He found one miraculously, and tried to hold on with all his might. His fingers began to slip, first knuckle by knuckle until he was holding onto it by his fingernails. When he began to move he was deafened by the screeching of metal on metal. Sparks flew everywhere, lighting up the small space and letting him see that his hand now wore a glove with bladed fingers.

Jesse awoke, screaming.

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Jesse sat at the foot of his bed, staring into the corner.

“Are you okay?” Asked Grayson, cross-legged at the head of the bed.

“Yeah. Just a bad dream,” Jesse answered. “It’s stupid, I’m sorry.”

“Oh baby, you don’t need to apologize.” Grayson crawled up to Jesse and draped his arms around his shoulders from behind. “We all have bad dreams.” He began to kiss Jesse's neck and caress his body.

His hands were freezing, and their touch felt like he was being stabbed, sliced apart. Jesse stood up suddenly and tried to find his clothes.

“Jesse what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, I just…I need to go. I’m not trying to be mean, you didn’t do anything wrong, I just, I need to go. I’m sorry.”

Grayson watched as Jesse threw on his clothes and gathered his things with a rehearsed speed. Within moments, Jesse was out the door.

Lisa sipped her coffee. It was a raspberry chocolate brew she had bought at the supermarket, and it tasted like it had been on the shelf from before she and Jesse had moved to the city. But she wasn’t drinking it for taste, nor for caffeine - it was decaf - but for heat. Their heating was on, the building they lived in was nice enough for that, but she questioned if it made much of a difference. Although Springwood winters could be miserable at times, there were at least temporary reprieves thanks to the bipolar nature of Ohio weather. New York winters, on the other hand, had proven to be consistently terrible twenty-four-seven. This year has been the worst since they moved here two years ago.

She took another sip of the coffee. It was already beginning to grow lukewarm, making the cheap taste of the blend come to the forefront.

It would be difficult to say whether the kitchen she stood in was small. It was more of an island in the living room, which by kitchen standards was quite large, but by living room standards was quite small. The clutter surrounding her didn’t help matters. Despite Jesse being at home with few obligations nearly every day this past week, he had failed to do any dishes.

Lisa jumped as she heard the key turn in the latch, splashing some of her coffee on her. “Shit,” she muttered, although it was no longer hot enough to hurt. Jesse walked in, bundled up against the cold outside.

“What are you doing back,” asked Lisa, wiping coffee up her front. “I thought you were spending the night.”

“I changed my mind,” said Jesse, throwing off his coat onto the ground. “Did you make enough coffee for me? I don’t wanna sleep anymore”

“No. Besides, it’s decaf.”

“Fuck, damnit.” Jesse stood briefly, as if he was unsure what to do, then quickly paced to the kitchenette. He squeezed his way past Lisa to try and get to the coffee machine. “Where’s my mug?”

“Still broken,” said Lisa. “You haven’t bought a new one. Now sit. ” She picked up a large Dutch oven crusted with rice to make a spot on the counter for Jesse. “What happened?”

Jesse remained standing and stared away. “I…had a nightmare.”

“Oh Jesse…”

“It was stupid of me to freak out like that,” said Jesse

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Yeah that’s literally it. Last edit I made on this was in July. Woot.

#friday the 13th #nightmare on elm street #halloween #fanfiction #writing #lgbtq #elm street 2

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