>> / A Nightmare on Elm Street

/ A Nightmare on Elm Street. .

: / A Nightmare on Elm Street.

/ A Nightmare on Elm Street

She listens at the door. Nothing. She crosses to her bed. Next second the KILLER dives through her window and seizes her in a shower of shattered glass!

NANCY twists and manages to grab the wrist of his knife hand with both of hers, barely keeping the blades from her throat.

The two fall backwards in a terrible, gasping struggle, crashing onto NANCY's bed. Her grip is broken -- the MAN stabs -- NANCY twists away, backed into a corner of bed and walls. Defenseless, she snatches a pillow up; the KILLER lashes out -- disemboweling the pilow and sending a great gush of feathers flying. NANCY dives for escape in a virtual blizzard.

The KILLER manages to snare her with his other hand, and the two crash across the bedside table to the floor, the table and all its contents cascading around them in a whiteout of feathers.

ANGLE AT FLOOR LEVEL -- CLOSE ON NANCY'S AND THE KILLER'S HEADS. The blades inch towards the girl's face -- the drool of the grizzled shadow with the horribly scarrred face spills into her eyes. Feathers are everywhere; MUSIC is absolutely insane!

But just when the points of steel are less than an inch from her eyes, the old fashioned alarm clock thrown to the floor next to NANCY's head goes off with a jarring RINGGGGGGG!

96. Instantly the MUSIC STOPS. And a moment later the room is 96. light.

WIDER as NANCY reels up, blinded by the sudden light, SCREAMING AND FIGHTING on her bed.

ANGLE ON GLEN, lurching from his own sleep at the frightening noise. He discovers NANCY pressed in terror against her headboard, clutching a pillow like a drowning woman would a straw.

It's an intact pillow, and there isn't a feather in sight.

NANCY stares incredulously at GLEN, then around the room, untangling herself from her bedclothes. Wary and furious, her voice hoarse.

NANCY Glen, you bastard...

The boy looks at his friend in groggy alarm. She's absolutely livid, more angry than he's ever seen her, and more strange.

GLEN What I do?

He reaches for her -- she flattens against the wall, eyes hard, and terribly hurt, too.

NANCY (low) I asked you to do just one thing. Just stay awake and watch me -- Just wake me if it looked like I was having a bad dream. (eyes wild) But you. You shit -- what do you do -- you fall asleep!

She stops herself, wiping a bit of spittle off her lip, alarmed at how out of control she's become. And suddenly she breaks, sinking into her torn bedclothes and rubbing her head.

NANCY (CONTD) (mostly to herself) I must be going nuts...

MARGE (OS) Nancy?

Her mother's door opens OS.

GLEN Oh, shit.

NANCY composes her voice as best she can.

NANCY Yes, mother?

MARGE's flip-flops approach outside the door. GLEN barrels out the window -- NANCY dives for the bed, jams off the light and disappears under the covers. MARGE, bleary eyed herself, opens the door and flicks on the light.

MARGE (beat) You okay?

NANCY (weakly) Yeah. Just had a little dream. I'm falling right back to sleep.

MARGE (beat) Okay... You need anything, just call.

NANCY Okay.

MARGE closes the door. NANCY immediately sits up and looks at the window. A single bone-white feather floats down in the moonlight. Then it's sucked outside and is gone.

97. EXT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT. 97.

GLEN's CADILLAC CONVERTABLE careens into the parking lot and SCREECHES to a stop. GLEN and NANCY jump out and head for the station.

GLEN You mind telling me what's going on?

NANCY's races into the station without answering.

GLEN (CONTD) Oh, I see. That makes it all perfectly clear.

98. INT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT. 98.

NANCY goes straight to the SERGEANT's desk.

NANCY Garcia, I want to see Rod Lane again.

GARCIA winces.

SGT GARCIA I thought when I took the night shift I'd have peace and quiet for a change.

NANCY It's urgent, we've gotta see Rod.

SGT GARCIA It's three in the morning. Your mother know you're out this late?

NANCY (faking it) Of course -- look, at least go back and look at him. Just see if he's okay.

GARCIA glances at GLEN.

GLEN (faking it) We have reason to think there might be something weird going on.

LT THOMPSON (OS) Oh, no argument on that.

NANCY jumps around at the sound of her father's voice. LT THOMPSON emerges from his office, rumpled and yawning.

NANCY Dad -- what you doing here?

LT THOMPSON It so happens I work here, and there's an unsolved murder. I don't like unsolved murders, especially ones my daughter's mixed up in -- what are you doing here at this hour? You're supposed to be getting some sleep.

GLEN Listen, sir, this is serious. Nancy had a nightmare about Rod being in danger, or something, and so she thinks...

He trails off, loosing it under LT THOMPSON's glare. Besides, he doesn't know exactly what the hell's really going on himself. GARCIA puts his beefy hand on NANCY's shoulder.

NANCY I just want to see if he's okay!

SGT GARCIA Take my word for it, Nancy. The guy's sleeping like a baby. He's not going anywhere.

99. INT. CELL BLOCK. NIGHT. 99.

ANGLE ON ROD in his cell. He's asleep, all right, but not safely so. His bedsheet has come alive. It twitches, pulsates, then snakes towards his throat.

ROD stirs, the sheet falls still; ROD slips into deeper sleep, and the sheet moves again, completing the noose around his neck!

100. INT. BOOKING ROOM. NIGHT. 100.

NANCY makes a move for the cell block --

NANCY This isn't your average nightmare, Daddy -- damn it!

The door's locked; she hauls on it in desperation.

LT THOMPSON Now look, Nancy, don't push it. You've already rubbed my nose in sex, drugs and violence -- don't start throwing in insanity!

NANCY takes that one to heart. She wheels on him and pleads, her intensity sobering even to him.

NANCY Just go back and check -- please!

The man takes a beat, then shrugs and nods towards SGT GARCIA.

LT THOMPSON Okay, Garcia. What the hell.

SGT GARCIA Right... (feeling in his pockets) Now where'd I put the key...

He mumbles backs towards his desk. MUSIC BUILDS as we HOLD ON NANCY'S FACE.

101. INT. ROD'S CELL. NIGHT. 101.

With a terrible SNAP ROD's sheet jerks tight around his neck. The startled teenager is hauled upright -- eyes popping, face purple. He claws at the sheet, but despite his strength he can't get his fingers between the noose and his windpipe. He's dragged backwards across the cot.

102. INT. BOOKING ROOM. NIGHT. 102.

GARCIA finally has the keys. Urged on by NANCY he fumbles with the lock.

103. INT. ROD'S CELL. NIGHT. 103.

ROD'S being dragged backwards, gasping and struggling in vain against the powerful pull -- right across his cell and up the wall, too. He clutches blindly at his throat at the far end of the sheet coils around the bars of the high window. Then there's a powerful wrench of the sheet, and ROD'S neck SNAPS. The kid's body sags lifeless.

104. ANGLE THROUGH THE BARS as NANY, GLEN, LT THOMPSON and GARCIA 104. appear in the corridor outside, the girl sprinting ahead.

NANCY Rod!

But it's too late; NANCY sinks back in horror as her father and GARCIA rush into the cell.

LT THOMPSON Gimme a hand, dammit!

GLEN, pale as the sheet that's killed ROD, climbs to the bars and unties the knot. ROD slides down over the SERGEANT'S shoulders, limp as a marrionette with its strings slashed.

SGT GARCIA Goddamn loco kid -- he didn't have t'do that -- Madre dios!

They lay ROD at NANCY's feet; a strange Pieta. NANCY's father looks at her in spooked suspicion.

LT THOMPSON How'd you know he was gonna do this?

NANCY says nothing.

FADE TO BLACK

105. EXT. FOREST LAWN CEMETERY. DAY. 105.

BURN ON:

THE FOURTH DAY

FADE UP ON a stark afternoon. On a hill of sere grass overlooking the valley, the casket of ROD LANE is lowered into its grave.

A small group of FAMILY and FRIENDS watches soberly as the MINISTER raises his hand in benediction.

MINISTER Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. May God be with this young man's soul.

ON THE FACES of MARGE, LT THOMPSON, TINA'S MOTHER and ROD'S PARENTS. Just for a second or two, in looks too rapid for an outsider to even notice, these adults exchange looks. Furtive, quick glances that suggest an immense something that they all share, something beyond even this second death among their children. Then they are all staring ahead again, as if the others weren't even there.

MINISTER (CONTD OS) His life and his death attest to the Scripture's warning that he who lives by the sword shall die by the sword.

ANGLE ON GLEN, watching --

NANCY, standing alone, not believing it for a minute.

MINISTER (CONTD OS) But let us recall also our Lord's admonition that we 'Judge not, lest we be judged.' Let us attempt only to love. And may Rod Lane rest in peace.

NANCY (quietly) Amen to that much.

The mourners walk away from the grave, MARGE among them. She pauses near a MAN and two WOMEN in black -- TINA'S MOTHER, ROD'S PARENTS. They almost, it seems, speak. Then MARGE hurries on.

WE MOVE WITH HER as she's joined by LT THOMPSON. Both are worn and on edge. THOMPSON absently lights another cigarette, offering one to MARGE.

LT THOMPSON How's Nancy doing?

MARGE I don't think she's slept since Tina died. (shakes her head) She's always been a delicate kid.

THOMPSON lights her cigarette, attempting some sort of nonchalance.

LT THOMPSON She's tougher than you think. Any idea how she knew Rod was gonna kill himself?

MARGE No. All I know is, this reminds me too much of ten years ago.

THOMPSON blows a plume of smoke against the hard sky and looks away.

LT THOMPSON Yeah. Well... Let's not start digging up bodies just because we're in a cemetery.

He gives her a look that could cut stone. MARGE toses down her cigarete and crosses to NANCY. The girl is simply staring off over the valley.

MARGE (very gently) Time to go home, baby.

She moves her away from the brink of the hill.

106. EXT. CEMETERY PARKING AREA. DAY. 106.

MARGE opens the door of the station wagon for NANCY. NANCY turns to them both, speaking in a still, small voice.

NANCY The killer's still loose, you know.

She has a wild, Cassandra aspect that sends a chill right up MARGE'S spine.

LT THOMPSON You saying somebody else killed Tina? Who?

NANCY smiles a weird sort of smile.

NANCY I don't know who he is. But he's burned, he wears a weird hat, a red and yellow sweater, real dirty, and he uses some sort of knifes he's got made into a sort of... glove. Like giant finger- nails.

As NANCY has described this monster from her dream, unseen by her, the faces of MARGE LT and THOMPSON have drained completely of color.

LT THOMPSON (low, even, to MARGE) I think you should keep Nancy at home a few days. 'Til she's really over the shock.

MARGE I got something better... (to NANCY) I'm gonna get you help, baby. So no one will threaten you any more.

She takes the girl by the arm and guides her into the car, locking the door from outside. NANCY never taking her eyes from her father's as the car bears her away.

FADE TO BLACK

BURN ON:

THE FIFTH DAY

107. EXT. UCLA SCHOOL OF MEDICINE. DAY. 107.

FADE UP ON UCLA's WESTWOOD CAMPUS and PAN TO SIGN:

UCLA SCHOOL OF MEDICINE INSTITUTE FOR THE STUDY OF SLEEP DISORDERS

108. INT. A LABORATORY SLEEPING CHAMBER. 108.

A NURSE applies sencors to the head, breast, arms, and fingers of NANCY THOMPSON. The girl is lying on a simple broad cot, in her pajamas. The room is subdued in color and holds only this single bed. A large mirror set into one wall hides an observation room beyond.

NANCY But I just don't feel... ready to sleep yet. Please, do I have to?

109. WIDER, REVEALING DR SAMUEL KING, a young, curly-haired internist; 109. intelligent and wry. He treats NANCY at all times like a young adult, never patronizing. He winks as the NURSE finishes.

DR KING Don't worry, you're not gonna change into Bride of Frankenstein or anything.

NANCY manages a smile, but she's haggard and visibly thinner. MARGE, background, looks downright distraught.

DR KING (CONTD) Nancy have any severe childhood illnesses? Scarlet Fever? High temperatures -- concussions?

MARGE No, nothing.

NANCY He means, did you ever drop me on my head.

The doctor and girl share a nervous laugh; MARGE doesn't even smile.

DR KING Nightmares are expected after psychological trauma. Don't worry, they go away.

MARGE I sure as hell hope so.

NANCY I don't see why you couldn't just give me a pill to keep me from dreaming...

DR KING Everyone's got to dream. If you don't dream, you go... (he drills his finger at his temple) All set?

NANCY No.

MARGE They're just simple tests, Nan. We'll both be right here.

DR KING Look, I know it's been fright- ening, I know your dreams have seemed real. But... it's okay. Okay?

MARGE Please, Nancy. Trust us.

The girls gauges her mother, the doctor, the situation very carefully. Then lowers her eyes.

NANCY It's not you I don't trust. It's... (gives up) Okay. Let's do it.

Greatly relieved, MARGE gives NANCY a goodnight kiss, then follows the doctor through a doorway near the mirror. As soon as her mother is out of sight, NANCY'S eyes drift to the mirror itself. In its reflection she sees herself looking back, alone on the bed.

DISSOLVE TO:

110. INT. THE OBSERVATION ROOM. 110.

MARGE and DR KING overlook NANCY's sleeping chamber through the one-way mirror. And KING monitors the girl even more closely with a bank of instruments -- a mass of glowing dials, graphs and meters. His manner with MARGE is slightly more sober.

DR KING How long's this been going on?

MARGE Since the murder. She was fine before that.

DR KING Not to worry. No signs of path- ology in Nancy's EEG or pulse rate. I'd guess what we've got is a normal young girl who just happens to have gone through two days of hell.

MARGE It's just made her think... her dreams are real...

KING adjusts a dial, watching the EKG like a hawk.

DR KING Ever hear the old Buddhist tale about the King who dreamed he was a beggar who dreamed he was a king?

MARGE twitches. Then there's a slight alteration in the sound of the EKG. KING nods in satisfaction.

DR KING (CONTD) Okay, good. She's asleep.

MARGE (immensely relieved) Thank God.

MUSIC RISES SOLEMNLY, MAJESTICALLY into a haunting transition as we

DISSOLVE TO

111. A MONTAGE OF SHOTS, of the EKG GRAPH, its inky needles calming, 111. of a METER tracing the quieting of NANCY's pulse, and of OTHER INSTRUMENTS, indicating life processes we can only guess. All smoothing out.

112. CLOSE ON NANCY on TV MONITOR, asleep like the child she is. 112. Innocent.

MARGE lights a cigarette, angry at her helplessness.

MARGE What the hell are dreams, anyway?

DR KING Mysteries. Incredible body hookus pokus. Truth is we still don't know what they are or where they come from. As for nightmares... (leans closer) Did you know that in the last three years twenty Philipino refugees in California died in the middle of nightmares? Not from heart attacks, either. They just died.

He gives a "Ah don' know" shrug. MARGE looks out into the sleeping room. NANCY is a motionless bundle in the middle of the bed.

113. ANGLE ON A NEEDLE on an EKG dipping to a lower reading. 113.

114. WIDER ANGLE -- the mother and DOCTOR watching. 114.

MARGE What happened? That needle sank like a rock.

DR KING (quietly) She's entering deep sleep now. Heart rate's a little high due to anxiety, but otherwise she's nicely relaxed. All normal. She could dream at any time now. (beat) Right now she's like a diver on the bottom of an ocean no one's mapped yet. Waiting to see what shows up.

115. INT. THE SLEEPING ROOM. 115.

We can see NANCY drift from the initial stage, over the brink into deep sleep. Her hair falls into her eyes; her face relaxes; her shoulders curl round her like comforters. THE MUSIC DEEPENS, and begins to hint at the tones of the NIGHTMARE THEME.

116. INT. CONTROL ROOM. DAY. 116.

DR KING and MARGE watch the instruments' every move.

One of the machines begins a slight CHIRPING. KING scans it, liking what he sees.

DR KING Okay, she's started to dream.

He leans forward in his chair, like a pilot starting an instrument approach. MARGE THOMPSON licks her dry lips, fighting a turn of nausea.

MARGE How can you tell?

DR KING R.E.M.'s. Rapid eye movements. The eyes follow the dream -- their movement picks up on this --

He prods a dial with his pencil and scribbles the time on a note pad.

DR KING (CONTD) Beta Waves are slowing, too. She's dreaming, all right. A good one, too.

MARGE watches the TV MONITOR. It's in extra-close on NANCY's eyes -- and they're darting beneath the lids, reacting to events lost behind a skein of flesh and neurons.

KING points to a moving graph. A needle's begun waving lazily between plus and minus three. The DOCTOR nods, assured.

DR KING (CONTD) Typical dream parameter. A nightmare, now, would be plus or minus five or six; she's just around three point --

He stops. Outside, visible through the glass, NANCY twists around. Eyes still closed, she's nevertheless holding her head in the attitude of prey listening to the first faint sound of the predator's approach.

MARGE looks from her daughter to the DOCTOR, color draining from her face.

MARGE What the hell's this? She awake or asleep?

The needle of the graph gives a jagged pitch up, plunges, then surges well above the eight mark. A strange MUSIC CUE -- disonant and threatening, creeps in -- the NIGHTMARE THEME slurred into awful minors and weird disonance. KING stares at the gauge in disbelief, rapping his finger on its glass.

DR KING Can't be. It never gets this high...

The needle swings even higher, benind.

DR KING (CONTD) Jesus H. Christ.

He's cut off by the high-pitched KEENING of the girl, the SOUND cutting through the double thickness of the glass like a lasar. A warning BEEPER has begun, the instruments light up like a Christmas tree -- and outside in the sleeping room, NANCY is contorting as if shot through with a thousand volts. KING knocks over his chair in his sprint for the door.

117. INT. SLEEPING ROOM. 117.

The DOCTOR and MARGE come in on the run -- NANCY's flailing and screaming as if the devil himself were after her. KING grabs her to shake her awake;

ANGLE ON NANCY (eyes open) -- looking in terror -- SOUND ECHOED STRANGELY.

IN HER POV -- dressed in KING'S clothes -- the horribly scarred MAN reaches out.

WIDER -- (NANCY'S eyes closed in sleep) as the girl's fist shoots out with incredible force and knocks DR KING flying!

The NURSE and MARGE both descend on her --

and again in her SLEEPING POV we see the MAN stagger for her.

WIDER ON NANCY -- (still in her nightmare) -- fighting like a tiger with both MARGE and the NURSE -- sending the NURSE sprawling -- leaving MARGE hanging on for dear life.

ANGLE on the stunned DOCTOR fumbling with a hyperdermic needle, spilling most of the stuff on himself with his shaking hands -- the SCREAMS AND CURSES of NANCY are deafening and worthy of a stevador fighting off his worst enemy. Stranger still, her hair is electrified, standing on end and greying before their very eyes!

MARGE screams at the top of her lungs.

MARGE NANCY!!! IT'S MOM -- NANCY!!!!

Some deep bolt of psychic power smacks through the girl, and her eyes flap open -- they're glazed with terror and fury, but open. NANCY's awake.

She stares around like a cornered animal in the middle of the bed, her purple face gasping out gut-wrenching SOBS. The NURSE and MARGE dare to go back in and hold the sweat-drenched girl as DR KING comes for her with the needle.

DR KING Now, this is just going to let you relax and sleep, Nan --

With incredible swiftness, NANCY backhands the hypodermic into a far wall, shattering it into a million pieces.

NANCY No. That's enough sleep.

Her eyes are windows straight into white fire as she locks into KING'S face. He dabs his split lip, swallowing painfully.

DR KING Okay, kid. Okay. Fair enough.

He holds out his hand. NANCY at last takes it, and sags back into her pillow, exhausted. Then KING comes up with blood on his hand.

He stares at it, dumbfounded, then at the girl. Across her left forearm, a deep gash is bleeding freely, as if made by a very sharp instrument.

MARGE Oh my god, oh my god...

DR KING (to the NURSE) Get the kit!

The NURSE scrambles away as the DOCTOR claps his hand over the wounds. He looks into NANCY's face. What he sees frightens him even more: NANCY'S haunted, ghost-like eyes turn from him to her mother, and a terrible, chilling smile opens across NANCY's white lips.

NANCY You believe this?

She pulls her free arm from beneath the sheets and reveals a strange hat, filthy and worn -- the KILLER'S hat. The sight of it frightens MARGE more than anything that's come before.

MARGE (deathly pale) Where the hell did you get that?

NANCY fixes her with Xray eyes.

NANCY I grabbed it off his head.

MARGE stares at the hat as if it held her whole future, and her future was a horror.

FADE TO BLACK

118. EXT. NANCY'S HOUSE. DAY. 118.

BURN ON

THE SIXTH DAY

FADE UP ON NANCY'S HOUSE, early morning.

119. INT. NANCY'S KITCHEN. DAY. 119.

MARGE is on the telephone, the dirty hat in her hand. Nearby is a nearly empty bottle of gin.

MARGE She said she snatched it off his head in a dream. (listens) No, I'm not crazy, I've got the damn thing in my hand! (listens) I know we did, we all... (hears NANCY approaching) Gotta go.

She hangs up and stuffs the hat and bottle into a drawer, screening the action with her body. NANCY enters.

By now the girl has an extraordinary look. Her hair is ashen, her skin transluscent, and eyes dark-ringed. Her right forearm is heavily bandaged over the slashes. In short, instead of the girl next door, we now could be looking at the lunatic from the next cell. MARGE, though she does her best to hide it, is downright frightened of her.

MARGE (CONTD) You didn't sleep, did you? The doctor says you have to sleep or you'll --

NANCY pours herself a cup of black coffee.

NANCY Go even crazier?

MARGE I don't think you're going crazy -- and stop drinking that damn coffee!

NANCY Did you ask Daddy to have the hat examined?

MARGE I threw that filthy thing away -- I don't know what you're trying to prove with it, but --

NANCY comes closer, her eyes shining with a new sureness.

NANCY What I learned at the dream clinic, that's what I'm trying to prove. Rod didn't kill Tina, and he didn't hang himself. It's this guy -- he's after us in our dreams.

MARGE But that's just not reality, Nancy!

120. Furious, NANCY janks open the drawer before MARGE can stop her 120. and spills the bottle and hat onto the counter.

MARGE grabs away the bottle protectively -- but it's the hat NANCY goes for. She waves it triumphantly -- demonically.

NANCY It's real, Mamma. Feel it.

MARGE (horrified) Put that damned thing down!

MARGE lunges for it -- NANCY leaps out of reach --

NANCY His name is even in it -- written right in here -- Fred Krueger -- Fred Krueger! You know who that is, Mamma? You better tell me, cause now he's after me!

MARGE swallows, then persists in the lie.

MARGE Nancy, trust your mother for once -- you'll feel better as soon as you sleep!

NANCY shoots a hard humorless laugh, holding up her slashed arm.

NANCY You call this feeling better? Or should I grab a bottle and veg out with you -- avoid everything happening to me by just getting good and loaded --

MARGE slaps her hard.

MARGE (losing it) Fred Krueger can't be after you, Nancy -- he's dead!

The room falls silent, both women staring at the other.

MARGE (CONTD) (low, raw) Fred Krueger is dead. Dead and gone. Believe me, I know. Now go to bed. I order you, go to bed.

MARGE snatches the hat away. NANCY is furious, betrayed.

NANCY You knew about him all this time, and you've been acting like he was someone I made up!

MARGE pulls away.

MARGE You're sick, Nancy. Imagining things. You need to sleep, it's as simple as that.

NANCY wheels and smashes MARGE'S bottle of gin in the sink.

NANCY Screw sleep!

MARGE (CONTD) Nancy!

But NANCY runs past her mother for the front door.

MARGE (CONTD) Nancy -- it's only a nightmare!

NANCY turns in the doorway.

NANCY That's enough!

On the door SLAM, we

CUT TO

121. EXT. SHAKESPEARE BRIDGE. DAY. 121.

ANGLE ON A NEIGHBORHOOD STREET. We hear GLEN's VOICE and PAN UP to REVEAL NANCY and GLEN high above, two tiny figures walking across this strange white bridge in old Los Angeles. CAMERA BEGINS A SLOW ZOOM.

GLEN Whenever I get nervous I eat.

NANCY And if you can't do that, you sleep.

GLEN Used to. Not anymore.

GLEN jams more Big Mack into his face. By now our ZOOM reveals he's attacking a huge bag of Big Macks, and furtively eyeing NANCY. The girl's hair is startlingly white in the sunlight. She's reading a book, hardly paying attention.

GLEN (CONTD) You ever read about the Balinese way of dreaming?

NANCY No.

GLEN They got a whole system they call 'dream skills'. So, if you have a nightmare, for instance like falling, right?

NANCY Yeah.

GLEN Instead of screaming and getting nuts, you say, okay, I'm gonna make up my mind that I fall into a magic world where I can get something special, like a poem or song. (grins hopefully) They get all their art literature from dreams. Just wake up and write it down. Dreamskills.

He stops, seeing the look on NANCY's face. Our ZOOM is much closer now, a wide medium, and still coming in on the kids.

NANCY And what if they meet a monster in their dream? Then what?

GLEN They turn their back on it. (grins hopefully) Takes away its energy, and it disappears.

NANCY What happens if they don't do that?

GLEN (shrugs) I guess those people don't wake up to tell what happens.

NANCY Great.

She leans over the railing, poking her face back into her book. GLEN tips its cover and reads its title. OUR ZOOM IS STILL MOVING CLOSER, a MEDIUM CLOSE UP NOW. GLEN 'Booby Traps and Improvised Anti-personel Devices'!

NANCY I found it at this neat survivalist bookstore on Ventura.

GLEN (shocked) Well what you reading it for?

OUR ZOOM LOCKS IN ON A TIGHT TWO ON THEIR FACES, NANCY's grimly determined.

NANCY I'm into survival.

She walks away, OUT OF FRAME, leaving GLEN watching after her in astonishment.

GLEN She's starting to scare the living shit out of me.

122. EXT. ELM STREET/NANCY'S HOME/EVENING 122.

ANGLE ACROSS NANCY'S "TREE LAWN", the grass between the sidewalk and the street, in the general direction of GLEN's home. This ANGLE doesn't quite reveal Nancy's house.

FOREGROUND is a utility truck in which a half dozen Hispanic WORKERS are loading tools, extension cords and hardware. They look like they've put in one hell of a hard day's work.

MARGE appears and hands a check to the FOREMAN of the crew, a white guy in clean coveralls and a gold chain. He scrutinizes it.

FOREMAN And the other...

MARGE forks over a wad of cash, hands trembling in her half-drunk, helpless rage.

MARGE Where's your mask and gun?

The FOREMAN counts the money swiftly.

FOREMAN Don't bust my chops, lady. If the city found out I put 'em in without inside releases I'd loose my license.

He shoves the money in his pocket and climbs in his truck. MARGE EXITS FRAME for her house.

PAN WITH THE TRUCK as it pulls away, THEN PICK UP NANCY, walking across the street from the corner. Alone. Dispirited. She lifts her eyes to her home and stops in her tracks.

NANCY Oh gross...

123. WIDENING TO REVEAL THE HOUSE as NANCY walks across her front 123. yard. Every single window has been covered with brand-new ornamental iron bars, bolted deeply into their frames.

CLOSER, AT A WINDOW. NANCY gives a set of bars a powerful shake. They don't budge. Then girl looks up and sees even the window to her second floor bedroom is barred. And the rose trellis has been ripped down and heaped at the foundation in a tangle of wood, thorns and broken flowers.

124. INT. MARGE'S ROOM. EVENING. 124.

ANGLE ON THE DOORWAY INTO THE HALL. Easy listening MUSIC wafts through the air. NANCY appears in the doorway.

NANCY (OS) Mom, what's with the bars!?

125. REVERSE to MARGE, propped against the headboard of her bed, a 125. crooked shadow in the gloom. A fresh bottle of Gin glints in her hand.

NANCY Oh, Mom...

The girl crosses and reaches gently for the bottle. MARGE snatches it away.

MARGE 'S'mine...

She rocks the bottle in her arms.

NANCY What's with the bars?

MARGE S'curity.

NANCY sits on the bed, a surprising compassion entering her voice.

NANCY Mom, I want to know what you know about Fred Krueger.

MARGE Dead and gone.

NANCY I want to know how, where -- if you don't tell me, I'm going to call daddy.

MARGE gives a laugh -- a rasping chachination from deep in her chest.

MARGE (CONTD) Your father the cop. That's a good one. (colder) Forget Fred Krueger. You don't want to know, believe me.

NANCY I do want to know. He's not dead and gone -- he's after me and if I sleep he'll get me! I've got to know!

MARGE blinks at her a moment, then cracks a terrible, crooked grin.

MARGE All right.

126. INT. NANCY'S CELLAR/NIGHT 126.

MARGE drags NANCY headlong down the cellar stairs and across the room with a crazy fury, twisting her down near the foundation. And she thrusts her face so close to her daughter's that NANCY reels from the alcohol.

MARGE You want to know who Fred Krueger was? He was a filthy child killer who got at least twenty kids, kids from our area, kids we all knew. It drove us all crazy when we didn't know who was doing it -- but it was even worse when they caught him.

MARGE draws herself up with a shake.

MARGE (CONTD) Oh lawyers got fat and the judge got famous, but someone forgot to sign the search warrant in the right place, and Fred Krueger was free, just like that.

NANCY So he's alive?

MARGE smiles grimly.

MARGE He wouldn've stopped. The bastard would've got more kids first chance he got -- they found nearly ten bodies in his boiler room as it was. But the law couldn't touch him.

At the mention of "boiler room", NANCY gives a shake. MARGE misses this, too busy taking a pull on the bottle that's never left her hand.

MARGE (CONTD) What was needed were some private citizens willing to do what had to be done.

She reels slowly, looking at NANCY is defiance.

NANCY (hushed) What did you do, mother?

MARGE cradles the bottle.

MARGE Bunch of us parents tracked him down after they let him go. Found him in an old boiler room, just like before. Saw him lying there in that caked red and yellow sweater he always wore, drunk an' asleep with his weird knives by his side...

NANCY (dreading it) Go on...

MARGE reaches over and taps a dusty two-gallon jug of gasoline near the lawn mower.

MARGE We poured gasoline all around the place, left a trail out the door, locked the door, then...

She mimes striking a match --

MARGE (CONTD) WHOOSH!!!

Her arms shoot up and her eyes go wide with the light of that fire. There's awe in her voice. Then she drops her arms.

MARGE (CONTD) (hushed, remembering) But just when it seemed not even the devil could live in there any more -- he crashed out like a banshee, all on fire -- swinging those fingerknives every which direction and screaming he... he was going to get us by killing all our kids...

She stops with a sudden quake and drinks for a long moment. But the intake doesn't hide the image. Her face bathed in tears, she looks at her daughter and shakes her head.

MARGE (CONTD) There were all those men, Nancy, even your father, oh yes, even him. But none could do what had to be done -- Krueger rolling and screaming so loud the whole state could hear -- no one could take your father's gun and kill him good and proper except me.

She sweeps her hand across the air in a terrific slash, then stops, her hand shaking, her voice hoarse and terrified. She looks at her daughter, begging.

MARGE (CONTD) So he's dead Nan. He can't get you. Mommy killed him.

For someone who started this film at a very young seventeen, NANCY's now the battle-tempered veteran as she takes her mother in her arms and rocks her.

NANCY Who was there? Were Tina's parents there? Were Rod's?

MARGE sags back.

MARGE Sure, and Glen's. All of us. But that's in the past now, baby. Really. It's over. (slyly) We even took his knives.

The woman twists around and opens the door on an old furnace -- a furnace unused since the newer gas one nearby was put in. She fishes inside the cavity -- as then we hear a touch of the familiar 'SCRRIITCH'. Next moment she pulls out an object wrapped in rags, opens it and displays the long, rusted blades and their glove-like apparatus.

MARGE (CONTD) See?

NANCY stares at the damn things, chilled.

NANCY All these years you've kept those things buried down here? In our own house?

MARGE (CONTD) Proof he's declawed. As for him, we buried him good and deep.

MARGE shoves the knives into their hiding place, closes the little iron door.

MARGE (CONTD) So's okay, you can sleep.

She lurches up and staggers upstairs.

NANCY shivers and looks down at her arm. The cut beneath her bandage has begun to bleed again. And from inside the furnace, as if from deep below, the PULSING of the boundless nightmare-boiler room can be faintly heard.

127. EXT. ELM STREET. NIGHT. 127.

WIDE ON THE STREET AND BOTH HOUSES, GLEN's on the right, NANCY's on the left. A TELEPHONE RINGS. ZOOM IN ON GLEN'S UPSTAIRS BEDROOM WINDOW.

128. INT. GLEN'S & NANCY'S BEDROOMS - INTERCUT. NIGHT. 128.

129. GLEN, yawning, crosses and picks up his telephone. 129.

GLEN Hello?

NANCY (telephone) Hi.

GLEN Oh. Hi, how y'doing?

NANCY looks out the window and touches her hair.

NANCY (CONTD) Fine. Stand by your window so I can see you. You sound a million miles away.

In the lighted window across the way, she can SEE GLEN move into sight. In his shot, we can SEE NANCY step into her window behind the bars.

NANCY (CONTD) Much better.

GLEN I heard your ma went ape at the security store today. You look like the Prisoner of Zenda or something. How long's it been since you slept?

NANCY Coming up on the seventh day. It's okay, I checked Guiness. The record's eleven, and I'll beat that if I have to. (beat) Listen, I... I know who he is.

GLEN Who?

NANCY The killer.

GLEN You do?

NANCY Yeah, and if he gets me, I'm pretty sure you're next.

GLEN is appalled.

GLEN Me!? Why would anyone want to kill me?!

NANCY Don't ask -- just give me some help nailing this guy when I bring him out.

GLEN pales.

GLEN Bring him out of what?

NANCY My dream.

GLEN How you plan to do that?

NANCY Just like I did the hat. Have a hold of the sucker when you wake me up.

GLEN Me? (switching back to a more comfortable reality) Wait a minute, you can't bring someone out of a dream!

NANCY If I can't, then you all can relax, because it'll just be a simple case of me being nuts.

GLEN I can save you the trouble. You're nutty as a fruitcake. I love you anyway.

NANCY Good, then you won't mind cold-cocking this guy when I bring him out.

GLEN What!?

NANCY (simplicity itself) You heard me. I grab him in the dream -- you see me struggling so you wake me up. We both come out, you cold cock the fucker, and we got him. Clever, huh?

GLEN You crazy? Hit him with what?

NANCY You're a jock. You must have a baseball bat or something. Come to my window at midnight. And meanwhile...

GLEN (weakly) Meanwhile..?

NANCY Meanwhile whatever you do don't fall asleep. Midnight.

She hangs up. GLEN's eyes bug out.

GLEN Holy shit! Midnight. Baseball bats and boogemen. Unfucking real.

130. OMIT OMIT 130.

131. EXT. THE VALLEY AND HILLS. NIGHT. 131.

HIGH, WIDE SHOT. The moon is above the horizon. A cool wind slides a bank of white fog inland. The valley and its lights stretch forever, an endless net of illumination and darkness. A coyote HOWLS on the dark hill.

132. EXT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT. 132.

A palm frond scuttles across the center of the parking lot. LT THOMPSON arrives in an unmarked car.

COP (passing) Lieutenant Thompson -- what you doing in at this time?

LT THOMPSON Can't sleep, thought I'd come break up the poker game.

The COP laughs and goes his way. THOMPSON's smile evaporates.

133. INT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT. 133.

THOMPSON enters and checks the log. Nearby, SGT GARCIA pours coffee.

SERGEANT GARCIA If it was any more quiet we could hear owls farting.

LT THOMPSON Is quiet, isn't it?

SERGEANT GARCIA (too casually) How's your girl?

THOMPSON looks at the Desk sergeant a moment, then tosses down the log.

LT THOMPSON She's sensible. She'll sleep sooner or later.

134. EXT. ELM STREET. NIGHT. 134.

The neighborhood is utterly still, most of the homes already dark. But not NANCY's. Or GLEN's.

ZOOM TO GLEN'S LIGHTED LIVING ROOM WINDOW.

135. INT. GLEN'S LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 135.

GLEN's father watches eleven o'clocks news, a dreary FILM CLIP (STOCK) of war and refugees in a far-away land.

MR LANTZ takes a pull on his Bud.

MR LANTZ You'd think they'd have some- thing 'bout the Lane kid hanging himself.

MRS LANTZ walks through the room, drying her hands on a dishtowel.

MRS LANTZ Maybe we're all making more out of it than we should.

She heads upstairs. MR LANTZ pops the automatic tuner. CARSON blinks ON.

CARSON (TV) I wouldn't touch that line with a ten foot pole.

ED MCMAHON and the AUDIENCE laugh in delight.

136. INT. GLEN'S HOUSE/UPSTAIRS CORRIDOR. NIGHT. 136.

MRS LANTZ comes along the upstairs hall and knocks gently at a closed door.

MRS LANTZ Glen? you all right?

She puts her ear to the door and listens.

MRS LANTZ (CONTD) Glen honey?

No answer.

137. INT. GLEN'S ROOM. NIGHT. 137.

GLEN lies sprawled across the bed, long legs flung over the end, head not visible.

His mother enters. She looks at the boy, turns off the TV. Looks at him again. From this angle she can see his head, earphones crammed over it rasping their tinny noise. But no movement from the kid at all. MRS LANTZ crosses and pokes him in the ribs. GLEN lurches up, arms windmilling.

GLEN Whuu?

He refocuses his eyes, takes off his earphones.

MRS LANTZ How can you listen to Carson and a record at the same time?

GLEN swings his legs over the edge of the bed and shakes his head to clear the cobwebs.

GLEN Wasn't listening to the tube, just watching. Miss Nude America's supposed to be on tonight.

MRS LANTZ Well how you gonna hear what she says?

GLEN Who cares what she says?

The mother gives up.

MRS LANTZ You should get to sleep soon, Glen. It's almost midnight. Goodness knows we've all had enough of a time the last few days...

GLEN I will, Mom...in a while. You guys turning in?

MRS LANTZ Pretty soon.

His MOTHER sighs and goes out, closing the door behind her. GLEN flips the TV back on and glances at the clock.

138. INSERT OF CLOCK. It's 11:42. 138.

139. TIGHT ON GLEN's face. He clamps the earphones back on, and turns 139. the volume up high. The MUSIC is so loud we can hear it resonating inside his skull.

CAMERA MOVES PAST GLEN to his window, then ZOOMS through to:

140. EXT. ELM STREET / NANCY'S HOUSE. NIGHT. 140.

CONTINUE ZOOMING into the LIGHTED window of NANCY's barred second floor bedroom and

CUT TO:

141. INT. NANCY'S ROOM. NIGHT 141.

CLOSE ON MARGE, weaving on the edge of NANCY's bed, stroking the girl's hair. NANCY's still something of a wreck, but less than MARGE.

MARGE We'll go away, take a vacation. Get your hair colored nice, the way it was. No one will ever know. (sniffs) This whole room smells of coffee, y'know?

She gathers up NANCY's coffee cups and empty NoDoz boxes, leans down and kisses her.

MARGE (CONTD) It's all over now, baby. The nightmare's over. Please.

NANCY nods her head, half stubborn, half sadly. She can barely keep her eyes open now.

NANCY Okay.

She scrunches into her pillow. MARGE smiles haggardly and shuts off the light, taking the coffee pot with her as she leaves.

NANCY (CONTD) Night-night.

MARGE smiles, relieved. The girl pulls the blanket around her shoulders. Her eyes flutter closed, her breathing becomes regular and deep. Once again she's the litle girl MARGE fantasizes she is.

The mother tiptoes out of the room, closing the door behind her. HOLD ON NANCY's sleeping face as the DOOR CLOSES. Her eyes remain closed another beat, then open wide.

She quietly jumps out of bed and shakes herself savagely to scatter the sleep settling so quickly.

Still in the dark, she fishes a full electric coffepot from under her bed and pours herself a fresh fix into a mug she digs from beneath her pillow. The face illuminated by the neon light on the pot is set in absolute determination.

NANCY drains the cup, then crosses to her closet, retrieves a pitcher of ice water from behind a heap of clothes and splashes her eyes and the back of her neck. That done she eases open her window and presses her face to the bars, sucking in cool night air until every shred of sleep is gone from her brain.

Then she starts pulling on clothes.

142. INT. NANCY'S HOUSE/DOWNSTAIRS. NIGHT. 142.

ANGLE ON MARGE as she checks the lock on the backdoor. Firm.

143. ANGLE IN THE LIVING ROOM as she pads through the darkened house, 143. feels her way to a wall of shelves and takes down a book. Then another, and a third. Then reaches in and fishes out a bottle of gin.

144. EXT. NANCY'S HOUSE AND ELM STREET. NIGHT. 144.

The sky has gathered in greater darkness. LOW, DISTANT THUNDER rolls around the horizon like a great drum.

ANGLE ON NANCY'S HOUSE from across the street. The moon glints off the barred windows. CAMERA ZOOMS to NANCY's window. The imprisoned girl hovers in the darkness behind the grill like a ghost, her eyes turned towards GLEN's. Then she switches to something much CLOSER TO CAMERA ANGLE, and she draws back.

145. REVERSE ON GLEN's father, standing on the front porch of his 145. home, also in the shadows, looking straight across and up at NANCY. He draws on his cigarette; his face glows red.

146. NANCY pulls down the shade. 146.

147. GLEN's father grinds the cigarette beneath his shoe. 147.

MRS LANTZ Shouldn't stare.

As the man turns our SHOT WIDENS TO REVEAL MRS LANTZ.

MR LANTZ Know what I think? I think that kid's some kinda lunatic.

The woman spoons more sweetness into her mouth and rubs her forehead.

MRS LANTZ Shouldn't say such a thing about the poor child. If you mean the bars, Marge's just being cautious, her being alone and Nancy acting so nervous lately.

The woman rises and pulls him gently towards the living room. As he goes inside he takes one last look.

MR LANTZ (CONTD) Well, she ain't gonna hang around our boy no more.

Once the two are inside, the door is locked.

148. INT. NANCY'S ROOM. NIGHT. 148.

CLOSE ON NANCY's face. VERY CLOSE. Her eyes stare ahead, red-rimmed, anxious. She picks absently at the thick bandage covering her forearm. The long cuts from Fred Krueger's fingers are bleeding again, but she doesn't even care anymore. Too late to sweat the small stuff. She crosses the room.

On the bedside table with the nearly empty Pyrex coffee maker, the empty cup and the empty box of No-Doz, is her old fashioned alarm clock, and a phone.

NANCY pours herself the last of the coffee and drinks it to the dregs, then looks to the clock.

INSERT CLOCK -- ten minutes to midnight.

NANCY'S eyes go to the door.

WIDER. Fully clothed and in a jacket now, she creeps to the door and cracks it, just to make sure. Then freezes.

149. INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE NANCY'S DOOR. 149.

IN NANCY'S POV through the door we see MARGE, rummaging around in the linen closet not fifteen feet away. There's no way NANCY can get past her. The woman pulls out a full bottle of gin in satisfaction and begins fumbling with its cap.

150. INT. NANCY'S ROOM. NIGHT. 150.

NANCY eases the door closed again and sinks to the key hole, watching through it with a sinking heart.

NANCY (very quiet, very intense) Hang on GLEN...

151. INT. GLEN'S ROOM. NIGHT. 151.

GLEN, coat now on, goes to his window, checking.

152. INT. ELM STREET. NIGHT. 152.

GLEN'S POV -- NANCY'S porch is deserted; front door closed, lights out. No sign of NANCY.

153. INT. GLEN'S ROOM. NIGHT. 153.

GLEN shrugs, takes off his jacket and plops back onto his bed.

GLEN Well, I'm not gonna risk sneaking out until she does.

He puts the earphones back on.

154. INT. NANCY'S ROOM. NIGHT. 154.

Absolutely frustrated, NANCY turns from the keyhole to the window. She opens the blind and eases back the curtain.

155. EXT. ELM STREET. NIGHT.

IN NANCY'S POV THROUGH THE BARS we ZOOM directly across to GLEN's window.

156. INT. GLEN'S ROOM. NIGHT. 156.

GLEN lies on his bed, fully clothed, earphones over his ears, CARSON droning from the TV. And the boy's eyes begin to droop.

157. INT. NANCY'S BEDROOM. NIGHT. 157.

NANCY picks up her phone, bites her lip, then begins dialing.

158. INT. GLEN'S ROOM. NIGHT. 158.

TIGHT ON PHONE as it begins RINGING loudly.

WIDER SHOT, revealing GLEN asleep BACKGROUND, the MUSIC still LOUD in his earphones.

159. INT. GLEN'S LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 159.

RINGING here, too, just as MR LANTZ is turning out the lights for bed. He stops in the dark, scowling.

MR LANTZ Who at this hour?

He refuses to turn the light back on. His wife picks her way to the telephone.

MRS LANTZ Hello? (listens, frowns slightly) Oh... Hold on. (covers the mouthpiece) It's her. She wants to talk to Glen.

The father crosses to the telephone, suspicious.

MR LANTZ (whispering) About what?

MRS LANTZ (into phone) What's this about, Nancy?

She listens, covers up again.

MRS LANTZ (CONTD) She says it's private. Very private and very important.

MR LANTZ grabs the telephone from his wife and barks into it.

MR LANTZ Glen's asleep. Talk to him tomorrow!

He SLAMS down the telephone with a grunt of satisfaction to his wife.

MR LANTZ (CONTD) Just got to be firm with kids, is all.

Then as a refinement he takes the phone off the hook and lays it on the table.

160. INT. NANCY'S ROOM. NIGHT. 160.

NANCY dials again. This time she gets a BUSY SIGNAL. She slams the phone down in frustration and looks out the window.

NANCY Glen. Don't fall asleep...

She goes and sits on the bed, propping her chin on her fists. 161. Yawns. The TELEPHONE RINGS. 161.

NANCY snatches it up.

NANCY Glen?

TIGHT ON HER, ZOOMING EVEN CLOSER ON HER EAR AND THE EARPIECE as we HEAR the awful SCRITCHING SCRAPE of STEEL FINGERKNIVES.

NANCY slaps the phone down as if it were diseased -- then, in pure rage, rips the thing's cord from the wall.

Spent instantly, she puts the receiver back on the cradle and lays it on her bed, chiding herself.

NANCY Brilliant. Now what if Glen calls?

She wraps the phone cord around the useless machine and puts it on her bed, then sneaks back to the door. This time she gives an expression of relief, and opens the door. MARGE is gone.

Then the TELEPHONE RINGS again.

CAMERA MOVES IN ON NANCY as she turns slowly.

162. REVERSE IN HER POV. THE TELEPHONE RINGS again, despite the fact 162. that the end of its janked-out cord is clearly visible. The NIGHTMARE MUSIC THEME slips right up our spines.

BACK ON NANCY. She starts to shake. She goes to the telephone as we WIDEN, unwraps it as it RINGS even louder. She's shaking so hard by now she can barely manage to lift the receiver. MOVE IN CLOSE ON HER, so close we can HEAR her teeth chattering as she brings the phone to her ear.

NANCY (CONTD) Hello?

The unmistakeable VOICE of FRED KRUEGER comes over the phone, garbled by time and unknown dimensions, but clear enough.

KRUEGER (FILTER) (triumphant) I'm your boyfriend now...

CLOSE ON THE MOUTHPIECE. It's changed from a normal telephone mouthpiece to an actual mouth -- Fred Krueger's mouth -- and his long, slick tongue flicks out and darts into the startled girl's mouth!

WIDER -- as NANCY explodes from her micro-dream -- absolutely mad. She jerks the telephone away from her and smashes it against her wall, then attacks it with her feet and hands, smashing it to smithereens.

ANGLE ON THE TELEPHONE PIECES. Normal pieces of a normal telephone.

She pinches herself hard -- until tears come and her flesh is nearly bleeding.

NANCY I'm awake, I am awake. This is not a dream! I am --

She stops, realizing what Krueger meant.

NANCY (CONTD) My boyfriend...!

163. INT. NANCY'S LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 163.

NANCY barrels down the stairs and across the darkened living room to the front door.

It takes her a moment of tugging and fumbling to realize the deadbolt is locked from inside. And there's no key in it now.

She races to a porch window and throws it open, shaking and banging on the bars like a mad woman. But there's no getting through. She staggers back, stymied and furious. Then somebody moves behind her in the dark.

VOICE (OS) Locked.

NANCY jumps around in shock. Her mother has posted herself on the couch with her bottle.

NANCY (furious) Give me the key, mother.

MARGE I don't even have it on me, so forget it.

The word is final. NANCY runs past the woman to the back door, to one window after the other, shaking bars and slamming locks and SCREAMING in teenage fury. But it's no good. The house is her prison.

MARGE (CONTD) (drunk satisfaction) Paid the guy damn good to make sure you stayed put. You ain't goin' nowhere, kid. You're gonna sleep tonight if it kills me.

NANCY clenches her fists and screams at the top of her lungs, a heart-wrenching, eardrum-breaking cry of love in despair --

NANCY GLEEENNNNNN!

SMASH CUT TO:

164. INT. GLEN'S ROOM. NIGHT. 164.

CLOSE ON GLEN'S FROM DIRECTLY ABOVE. The MUSIC is tinny from the earphones, the TV SOUND DISTANT AND ECHOED. The boy is breathing deeply now, slowly and gently. Then, unmistakeably, he begins to SNORE. Very faintly, far in the background, we can hear NANCY.

NANCY (OS) Glen!! Don't fall asleeeeeep!

CAMERA PULLS BACK AND STRAIGHT UP as the SNORES merge with a weird, unsettling MUSIC CUE. The boy lies sprawled, still clothed, in the middle of his bed. Save for the bedside lamp, the room is dark.

FULL WIDE ANGLE FROM THIS HIGH SPOT looking down at him as from the eyes of some great fly hung on the ceiling. THE MUSIC REACHES A TERRIFYING PITCH OF ANTICIPATION -- THEN STOPS ABRUPTLY.

There's a heartbeat's pause. Then with tremendous force, two powerful arms shoot up beneath the red and yellow bedspread and grab GLEN around the waist!

Next moment the young man's body is dragged straight down into the bed, as if some huge beast had grabbed him and heaved him down! His feet and his arms shoot up -- there's another hauling yank -- and the boy disappears except for his hands and fingers -- down into the pit in the middle of the bed! His hands are last to go, clawing for a hold. But soon they vanish as well, dragging blankets and bedsheets, wires and stereo across the caved-in bed and into the abyss.

There's HIDEOUS SCREECHING of MUSIC jamming in with GLEN's ECHOING SCREAMS -- then an unholy, sudden silence.

Next moment what's left of GLEN is vomited up from the pit of the nightmare bed...a horrible mess of blood and bone and hair and wires...streaming out and over the bed. Then the pit in the bed is gone as if it were never there.

Drawn by the terribly screams and struggle, GLEN's mother bursts into the room. The women stares for one moment of horrified disbelief, then reels back and lets out the most god-awful SCREAM imaginable. The cry splits the night.

165. EXT. ELM STREET. NIGHT. 165.

The SOUND of the SCREAM CROSS-FADES WITH the WAIL of the AMBULANCE as it screeches to a halt at the curb, followed by two BLACK AND WHITES and an UNMARKED CAR. Uniformed POLICEMEN spill out FOREGROUND.

LT THOMPSON and PARKER exit the unmarked car. By habit or by premonition THOMPSON glances at the house that was his home. His eye is caught by a movement; his daughter is at her upstairs window, white-haired, hollow-eyed, looking down on him through her bars. She gives a little wave.

Unnerved, THOMPSON waves back, then walks rapidly for GLEN's home. MR LANTZ, pale as a ghost himself, waits on the porch; we can hear the mother's WAILING inside.

166. INT. NANCY'S ROOM. NIGHT. 166.

CLOSE ON NANCY'S BIG OLD WINDUP ALARM CLOCK. Its big and little hands sweep together at midnight.

BURN ON:

THE NINTH DAY

There's a BABBLE of POLICE RADIOS, SIRENS WINDING DOWN, RUNNING FOOT-STEPS, SHOUTS, NEIGHBORHOOD KIDS and DOGS BARKING as CAMERA LIFTS TO NANCY'S FACE. Set. Unafraid. Ruthless.

The girl pulls the window shade on it all, then looks at her bed.

NANCY Okay, Krueger, you bastard. We play in your court.

167. INT. GLEN'S LIVING ROOM/NANCY'S KITCHEN -- INTERCUT. NIGHT. 167.

168. LT THOMPSON is halfway across the living room when he stops. 168. Something dark and red is welling from a crack in the ceiling. One of his men is rigging a bucket beneah to catch the leaking. The telephone rings and PARKER picks it up.

PARKER Lieutenant. It's your daughter. Says it's urgent.

THOMPSON turns away from the dripping.

LT THOMPSON (low) Tell her I'm not here, tell her...

PARKER Uh, she just saw you, sir...

THOMPSON nods, crosses and picks up the telephone. SCREEN SPLITS; we see both.

LT THOMPSON (CONTD) Hello Nancy.

NANCY Hi daddy. I know what happened.

LT THOMPSON Then you know more than I do -- I haven't even been upstairs.

NANCY (guessing) You know he's dead though, right?

THOMPSON debates, then admits it.

LT THOMPSON Yeah, apparantly he's dead. How the hell'd you know?

A tear coarses down NANCY's cheek, but her voice remains firm.

NANCY I've got a proposition for you. Listen very carefully, please.

LT THOMPSON Nan, I --

NANCY Please. I'm gonna go get the guy who did it and bring him to you. I just need you be right there to arrest him. Okay?

LT THOMPSON Just tell me who did it and I'll go get him, baby.

NANCY Fred Krueger did it, Daddy, and only I can get him. It's my nightmare he comes to.

The detective flinches at the name.

LT THOMPSON Where'd you hear about Krueger --

NANCY presses, very firm, very rational.

NANCY -- I want you to come over here and break the door down exactly twenty minutes from now -- can you do that?

LT THOMPSON Sure, but...

NANCY That'll be exactly half past midnight. Time for me to fall asleep and find him.

LT THOMPSON Sure, sure, honey. You just do that -- get yourself some sleep -- that's what I've been saying all along.

NANCY And you'll be here to catch him, right?

PARKER Lieutenant -- they're waiting upstairs.

THOMPSON waves curtly, still speaking to NANCY.

LT THOMPSON Sure, okay, I'll be there. Now you just turn in and get some rest, sweetheart. Please. Deal?

NANCY Deal.

NANCY hangs up. LT THOMPSON starts upstairs. But then he stops, and as an afterthought he could never really explain, turns to PARKER.

LT THOMPSON (CONTD) Get outside and watch her house. If you see anything funny call me.

PARKER 'Anything funny' like what?

THOMPSON shakes his head, embarassed.

LT THOMPSON I don't know -- but one thing for sure, I don't want her coming over here. She's way too far gone to be able to to handle this.

As PARKER exits, ANGLE CUTS TO NANCY'S KITCHEN as the girl hangs up and sinks back agiainst the wall, trapped by her own resolution. She looks at her watch.

169. INSERT -- five past midnight. NANCY switches modes to stopwatch 169. and sets the COUNTDOWN going at twenty-five minutes.

170. INT. GLEN'S BEDROOM. NIGHT. 170.

LT THOMPSON steps into GLEN's room, anxious to be done with it. He hits a wall of stench and horror even before he takes it in with his eyes, and as soon as he sees the bed he claps his hand over his mouth, pivots and walks right back into the hallway.

171. INT. HALLWAY. NIGHT. 171.

He sags against the wall, unable to look at the COPS who hover there.

COP (faint) What the hell did that, Lieutenant? There ain't even a head left.

LT THOMPSON Goddamed if I know. (tries to straighten) What's the Coronor say?

COP He's in the john puking since he saw it.

172. INT. CELLAR. NIGHT. 172.

NANCY pulls tools and hardware out with grim resolution. Hammer, nails, spools of wire, an old square of heavy fishneting, some old shot gun shells, a file -- referring only once to the booklet in her hand.

173. INT. NANCY'S LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 173.

Barely able to control her shaking hands, NANCY starts stringing off the spool of wire across the living room, crying and swearing at the same time.

DISSOLVE TO HER HANDS wrapping bare lamp wire around two thumbtacks stuck into the insides of the pinchers of a common wooden clothespin. The wire goes OFF SCREEN.

ANOTHER ANGLE as she inserts a Lifesaver between the two prongs. One end of the fishline is tied to the lifesaver. The whole now is stretched taut about three inches off the living room carpet.

ON NANCY carefully filing a hole in a LIGHTBULB.

OH HER pouring powder and shot from shotgun shells into the opening in the bulb until it's full, then sealing it with tape.

DISSOLVE TO HER screwing the bulb back into the floor lamp, and placing the thing near the foot of the stairs.

SC 174 (DELETE)

175. INT. NANCY'S UPSTAIRS HALLWAY. NIGHT. 175.

-- NANCY completes installing a sturdy sliding bolt to the outside of her own bedroom door.

-- NANCY screws a hinge into the wall directly above her door. Attached to the hinge is the shank of something -- some kind of tool. We can't see what it is because CAMERA never quite frames the whole thing.

-- NANCY tiptoes to her mother's door and peeks in.

176. INT. MARGE'S BEDROOM. NIGHT. 176.

MARGE lies propped in her bed looking back at NANCY. Her drunkeness has been altered by the SIRENS and BABBLE outside into a sort of comatose clarity.

MARGE Guess I should'n'a done it.

NANCY Just sleep now, Mom.

MARGE Just wanted to protect you, Nan. Just wanted to protect you...

MARGE slides over on her side. NANCY smooths her hair, covers her as she would a child, then exits the room.

DELETE SC 177

178. INT. NANCY'S ROOM. NIGHT. 178.

The girl enters, turns out her bedside light, slips out of her dress and puts on her nightgown. Then she kneels by her bed.

NANCY (quietly) Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.

She gets into bed and pulls the blankets to her chin.

CLOSE ON NANCY's face. She stares straight up at the ceiling for a long moment, then closes her eyes.

CUT TO:

179. INT. GLEN'S LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 179.

LT THOMPSON trudges down the stais and confronts GLEN'S FATHER.

LT THOMPSON I know it's hard to think at a time like this, Walter, but can you think of anyone who could've done such a thing?

The father stares away, his voice low and dull.

MR LANTZ He done it.

THOMPSON looks at the man, baffled.

LT THOMPSON Who? Who did that?

MR LANTZ Krueger.

LT THOMPSON Krueger?

The father gives him the strangest look.

MR LANTZ Had to've done it. No one else was in there.

LT THOMPSON How you know that?

MR LANTZ Cause I thought Glen was gonna sneak out to see your lunatic daughter, that's why. So I locked him in his room! (getting control) Sorry. Anyways, the door was still locked when we heard the screams.

He blinks.

MR LANTZ (CONTD) Maybe god's punishing us all...

LT THOMPSON (much lower and hard) Keep your head -- this is a fucking flesh and blood killer we're talking about.

MR LANTZ Like Rod Lane?

A voice calls down from upstairs.

COP (OS) Lieutenant Thompson. Coronor wants to show you something.

THOMPSON gives MR LANTZ one final look, then heads upstairs.

CUT TO:

NOTE: These rewrites of scenes 180 and 180 A replace NANCY walking through the 'dream streets' at night, and NANCY approaching the huge deserted building at night, prior to her entering the Boiler Room the final time.

180. INT. DOWNSTAIRS, NANCY'S HOUSE. NIGHT. 180.

LOW ANGLE UP STAIRS as NANCY appears at head. As she comes downstairs, CAMERA MOVES WITH HER through the hallway to the cellar door. She opens the door.

180A. INT. NANCY'S CELLAR. NIGHT. 180A.

NANCY appears at top of these stairs, hesitates, then comes down.

WIDER as NANCY approaches center of room, stops in CU, then turns eyes. We HEAR the distant SOUND of the boiler room now, faint but unmistakeable. NANCY MOVES, and CAMERA PANS HER to the cellar's side WALL, where another, new doorway is REVEALED. NANCY opens this door and looks down. FIRELIGHT is on NANCY'S face now, and the SOUND of the Boiler Room is very clear. NANCY goes through the door.

180B. INT. BOILER ROOM. 180B.

NANCY decends like Orpheus into hell, but without weapon save her wits.

She decends a steel stair to the lowest level, then hears the SOUND of the knives from down another shaft. She sees there's an even deeper place down there. She starts down.

Again, and then again, NANCY decends, each ladder narrower or more twisting, each level deeper, wetter, darker, more airless. Soon she's gasping for air, but still she pushes herself on. She doesn't stop until she breaks out at last at the very bottom of the place, a wet, firelit sump deep in the bowels of the place.

CAMERA NOW PANS AROUND WITH HER, and for the first time we SEE the vast maul of the empty boiler behind her.

She stares at it. It's seething with some dark WIND that soughs and whines like a huge dying dog.

NANCY crosses to it, touching the pile of old, coal-dusted dirt at its base. It looks almost like an old grave.

She turns suddenly, listening. Then, hearing nothing, she looks down.

NANCY'S POV as she picks up GLEN's earphones.

WIDER as she suddenly drops them, staring at her fingers. They're dripping blood.

There's another BEEP.

180C. INSERT ON NANCY'S WATCH -- the COUNT-DOWN a blur of black digits 180C. counting down to zero. They've just crossed the ten minute warning.

180D. CLOSE ON NANCY'S FACE. She speaks into the night. 180D.

NANCY (quietly) Come out and show yourself, you bastard.

No sooner are these words off her lips than the huge bulk of FRED KRUEGER lurches up behind her! The man is even more hideous hatless, his bald head and tormented face veiled in skeins of ruined flesh, his ragged teeth barred, the great spider of razor-blades flashing from his fingertips.

He leaps, but the girl leaps just as fast, a fierce jump, that sends her out over black space and down into a huge, dark sump of blackness.

180E. EXT. THE HEAVENS. NIGHT. 180E.

CLOSE ANGLE ON NANCY as she curves like a swan though her apogee, and begins falling, diving, planing through black air, the wind ripping at her hair and eyes. Suddenly the complex, glittering skein of light that is the San Fernando Valley seen from the air slides INTO FRAME, and we see she's falling from high, high over the earth.

NANCY falls, falls in slow motion against the spinning lights, free as a sky diver freefalling -- a giddy, acrophobic plunge.

181,182,183,184 OMIT OMIT 181,182,183,184

185. EXT. ELM STREET/NANCY'S HOUSE. NIGHT. 185.

NANCY crashes suddenly out of the night and into a hedge just outside her own front door, rolling out at its bottom scratched and bloodied. If she were in any normal reality she'd be a mass of broken bones -- but somehow she's able to claw her way up and look at her watch once more.

INSERT. Just a few seconds from zero.

She staggers for her house's front door -- but a moment later KRUEGER crashes down atop her! NANCY struggles to her knees just as the man lunges with that godawful handful of blades. But instead of running, she ducks inside the deadly grab and seizes him in a desperate bearhug!

The surprise move sends him pitching backwards, her still on him --and they fall into the jumble of torn-down trellis of roses beneath her window. Almost at that very second we HEAR the jarring, deafening RINGING of NANCY's alarm clock!

SMASH CUT TO:

186. INT. NANCY'S BEDROOM. NIGHT. 186.

NANCY sprawls out of her bed onto the floor, twisting from the jabs of the already vanished thorns, briars and brush. Gasping, she takes a second to get her bearings

ANGLE ON THE BED as she recovers quick as she can, snatching up the net, ready for an assault from any direction.

But the room is empty.

Hardly able to catch her breath, her hair tangled, her nightgown torn, she drops the net. She sits on the bed, turns on the bedside lamp and re-examines her room. No one there but herself.

It's a terrible blow, despite the fact that she's safe. Her face is covered with tears, she's shaking and breathless. She rattles her head in confusion and despair, realizing her own madness.

NANCY I'm crazy after all...

At that very instant FRED KRUEGER leaps up from the far side of the bed with an EXPLOSIVE SHOUT of rage!

He lunges across the table for her, missing by inches as NANCY pitches backwards and scrambles for the window. But she's stopped by the bars.

KRUEGER, incredibly fast, regains his feet and leaps again -- the girl wheels and shatters the coffeepot over his head. As he crashes backwards NANCY flings open the door of her room and dives through -- only to rebound off someone on the other side --

187. INT. HALLWAY. NIGHT. 187.

MARGE, knocked flying by NANCY'S charge, hits the floor hard, knocking the wind out of herself. NANCY sees what she's done, jumps over the body and slams the door and throws the new bolt home. Next instant she gingerly ties a string to the door's knob, a string that trails down from the ceiling, attached to something up there that's still just barely out of sight.

Next instant she's dragging her MOTHER towards the woman's bedroom as fast as she can.

KRUEGER is already splintering the doorway behind her as NANCY dips and makes it into MARGE's room, SLAMMING the DOOR behind her and locking it in a flash.

The MANIAC breaks the bolt and rips open the door.

But the in the very act of doing this he of course unknowingly pulls the string attached to the outside doorknob with terrific force.

CLOSE ANGLE ON THE CEILING. The string jerks against a single-edged razor, which in turn cuts a tight wind of cord holding a heavy wedge of steel to the ceiling.

WIDER as the thing falls free, pivoting at the hinge at the far end of its handle, and drives straight into KRUEGER'S groin with a terrific blow. As he catapaults backwards with an incredulous shriek, the twenty pound sledge hammer swings back and reveals to camera just what it is!

ANGLE DOWN ON KRUEGER, clawwing his way up despite his agony, lurching and cursing forward like an enraged bull.

WIDER ANGLE IN THE HALLWAY as KRUEGER roars out -- only to immediately strike the length of WIRE strung across the hallway, catching it just above the thigh. He cartwheels head-over-heels and lands flat on his back!

Instantly the DOOR to NANCY's MOTHER's bedroom flies open and NANCY brings a brass lamp down over KRUEGER's head with all her might! It sounds like a line-drive caroming off a metal flagpole.

NANCY SLAMS the DOOR as KRUEGER struggles up, clutching his head.

Enraged, the huge man CRASHES against the door with terrific force, and rears back and starts smashing against the door like the utter homicidal lunatic that he is.

CUT TO:

188. EXT. ELM STREET/NANCY'S HOME. NIGHT. 188.

HIGH ANGLE at the second floor level. NANCY jerks open the window to her MOTHER's bedroom and jams her face to the bars. The AMBULANCE is pulling away with a tremendous WAIL of its SIREN as NANCY SCREAMS down, trying to make herself heard.

NANCY Help! Hey -- Daddy -- I got him trapped! Where are you!?

189. ANGLE ON the street. PARKER, assigned to guard the house, sees 189. NANCY -- hair white, eyes wide -- pounding on the bars and screaming like a lunatic. But her meaning is utterly lost in the noise of the ambulance next to him.

PARKER (yelling up at her) Everything's going to be all right! Everything's under control!

ANGLE at the window. Close on NANCY's face, incredulous at his response.

NANCY Get my father, you asshole!

PARKER does a little take. That almost sounded sane.

PARKER (OS) You heard what I said! Now get back inside or I'll tell your dad!

191. Behind her the DOOR SPLINTERS. NANCY whirls around just in time 191. to see KRUEGER bull in! NANCY's eyes go wide -- she's trapped against the bars and has nowhere to go. The man bunches his knives into a single thick blade and rushes her, stabbing. NANCY closes her eyes --

Then from OUT OF FRAME Marge leaps between the two.

MARGE No!

She blocks the charge perfectly -- blocking the knives. Both she and NANCY are slammed backwards against the bars behind. Drunk though she is, is hanging onto KRUEGER'S weapon hand, keeping the knives inside herself, away from her daughter!

MARGE Nancy -- for god's sake's run!

But NANCY turns to the window instead, screaming for her father.

NANCY Daddy! Where are you!

192. EXT. ELM STREET. NIGHT. 192.

PARKER, just about to turn back to the business at GLEN's house, sees NANCY and SOMEONE else fall just inside the window. Something begins to dawn on the man. Just a little.

PARKER Poor woman's got her hands full with that kid. Maybe I better tell the lieutenant.

He turns and jogs towards GLEN's house.

193. INT. MARGE'S BEDROOM. NIGHT. 193.

ANGLE ON KRUEGER, hauling MARGE up in rage, knocking her senseless across her bed and climbing after her with his knives raised. NANCY wheels behind him and whams him in the kidneys with her fists, spilling him back off the bed, then running past him for the door. She makes it to safety, then turning back. She flips the monster the bird, her eyes wild with pain and fury.

NANCY Hey fuckface -- can't catch me!

The bait works -- KRUEGER leaves MARGE and howls after NANCY.

194. INT. UPSTAIRS HALLWAY. NIGHT. 194.

As NANCY clears the hall and makes the stairs, KRUEGER lurches through the shattered doorway after her.

195. INT. LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 195.

The girl careens down the stairs, across the room and to the front door, banging against it with terrified fury.

NANCY (screaming) Come on -- he's in here! Daddy! Don't let him kill me too!

Behind her the huge MAN is thumping down the stairs, KNOCKING THINGS OVER, SCRAPING his LONG STEEL FINGERNAILS along the wall with a horrible sound!

NANCY flings a heavy ash tray through the porch window and screams through the bars.

NANCY (CONTD) HEELLLPPP!!! Daddyyyyyyy!!!!

KRUEGER, bloody and spewwing threats, staggers for her -- NANCY dives behind the couch.

CLOSE ON KRUEGER'S FEET as they hit another wire.

CLOSE ON the Lifesaver jerking out -- the clothespin snapping together, completing the circuit with a CRACKLING SPARK.

WIDER ON THE EXPLOSION that rips out of the floor lamp next to KRUEGER and knocks him sprawling across the room.

NANCY peeks out from behind the couch. The man lies in a smoking heap. NANCY runs to the windows and screams out again.

NANCY (CONTD) Hey -- Daddy! Hey! I got the bastard!

KRUEGER roars up behind her -- she throws herself sideways -- he crashes into the window frame, smashing glass and wood to bits.

NANCY turns SCREAMING and runs deeper into the house.

196. OMIT 196.

197. INT. CELLAR. NIGHT. 197.

She careens down the stairs, throwing on the lights, the man thundering after her.

ANGLE AT THE FAR END OF THE CELLAR. NANCY brakes at the wall. Nowhere left to hide.

THE SCRAPPING of the blades against brick turns her to see the huge killer holding his knife-laden fingers up for her.

KRUEGER Ready for these?

198. ON NANCY -- she ducks behind the furnace -- comes out the other 198. side with the big jug of gasoline and lets KRUEGER have it straight over the head. The heavy container shatters, showering its contents over every square inch of the man.

He staggers backwards with a ROAR of fury, NANCY screaming after him with a box of kitchen matches. Before the man can realize what she's up to, she ignites the whole box and throws it in KRUEGER's face.

There's a blinding WHOOSH -- and KRUEGER goes up in a terrific BALL OF FIRE. Faster than a flash the girl runs past the howling maniac and makes for the stairs, KRUEGER after her in full pyrrhic rage.

199. INT. NANCY'S KITCHEN. NIGHT. 199.

NANCY holds the heavy door until the precisely right moment. Just as the burning, blind monster tops the stairs, NANCY brings the heavy oak door round with all her might and catches him in a great RINGING CONCUSSION. It sends him windmilling backwards and down the stairs in an ass-over-teakettle sprawl of sparks and flames.

NANCY slams the door and throws the deadbolt home.

No sooner does she accomplish this than the man is SLAMMING again and again against the door from the cellar. The terrible SCREAMS and CURSES PEAK, THEN GROW WEAKER AND MORE GARBLED. Then there's just silence.

NANCY staggers, half blind, from the kitchen.

As the room begins seething SMOKE from every pore, we

CUT TO:

200. INT. GLEN'S UPSTAIRS HALLWAY. NIGHT. 200.

The CORONER steps out of the bathroom peeling bloody rubber gloves. Pale and sweating.

CORONER Found you something, Donald. Should remind you of something...

The man shoves out his hand to LT THOMPSON. THOMPSON stares at it without touching it. A long, thin steel blade, razor sharp, attached to some sort of ring and armature -- broken off...

The CORONER gives a sweaty, grim smile.

CORONER (CONTD) Only place I ever heard of such a thing before was ten years ago. Remember that fucker Fred Krueger?

LT THOMPSON has just knocked PARKER sprawling in his race to the stairs.

PARKER Hey -- your daughter's acting kinda -- ! (THOMPSON'S gone) Strange...

201. EXT. NANCY'S HOME. NIGHT. 201.

CRASH as NANCY breaks another window and presses against the bars. The house shudders and glows orange behind her. She sees her father bursting out the front door of Glen's house!

NANCY DAD! GET US OUTTA HERE!

LT THOMPSON Oh, Jesus -- Nancy! (to his men) Hey! We got a fire!

202. ANGLE ON NANCY'S FRONT DOOR. Many MEN batter the door down as 202. black smoke pours from the windows and NANCY's SCREAMS and SHOUTS fill the air. Within moments they've destroyed the door and LT THOMPSON has pulled his daughter into the safety of his arms. But NANCY immediately fights free and darts right back to the front door -- beckoning him to follow -- gesturing like a wild woman.

NANCY I got him -- I got Fred Krueger!

THOMPSON stares at his wild little girl in astonishment, then runs in after her. The others follow, coughing and choking.

203. INT. LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 203.

THOMPSON collides with NANCY as she brakes, frozen. THE SMOKE IS BELCHING OUT OF THE CELLAR, but whoever was locked in there certainly isn't now. The door is flat on the kitchen floor.

LT THOMPSON What the hell are you talking about, Nancy?

NANCY wheels without answering. A series of tiny, isolated fires burn across the living room and up the stairs. Firesteps.

NANCY (CONTD) He's after Mom! Come on!

She darts across the living room, following the flaming footprints of FRED KRUEGER up the stairs before THOMPSON can stop her.

LT THOMPSON NANCY!

204. INT. MARGE'S BEDROOM. NIGHT. 204.

NANCY STOPS IN THE SPLINTERED DOORWAY -- a ragged gold-red light splashing her horrified face.

205. REVERSE IN HER POV -- FRED KRUEGER, literally a man of fire, has 205. a screaming MARGE pinned to the bed and is crawling all over her! NANCY gives a banshee's howl, snatches up a chair and brings it down over the back of the firey beast, stunning him.

By the time LT THOMPSON races into the room NANCY'S seized a heavy blanket has thrown over both of them, fighting the flames. The father joins his daughter without a second thought, heaving another blanket over the bed and smothering the last of the flames.

NANCY He's under there! Watch it!

206. THOMPSON pushes the girl back -- yanks out his .38 and pulls off 206. the first cover. No movement. He pulls back a second one, ready to fire. But the only thing he sees is the blackened half-skeleton of his ex-wife, smoking and seething and sinking into the fluid-like mattress, sinking right down through it as if she were sinking into a lake. A blackened, gnarled hand goes last, then the bed solidifies over the place she's disappeared. And it's as if no one was ever there. NANCY turns and looks at LT THOMPSON, her face white as her ghostly hair. THOMPSON shoves his .38 back in its holster and finds a cigarette, his hands shaking so badly he can barely manage.

NANCY Now do you believe me?

PARKER barges in. The room is filled with smoke, the bed is stripped, but other than that, the place seems normal.

PARKER You find him? (looking closer at THOMPSON) Sir?

LT THOMPSON just walks by him. PARKER chases after.

PARKER (CONTD OS) (fading) Sir -- here, let me light that for you -- Lieutenant? What happened? (gone)

WIDER, ON NANCY alone in the room. She turns and looks at the bed. MUSIC slips in and builds. The bed has changed color. It's now an ash-darkened red and yellow.

207. CLOSER ON NANCY from the direction of the bed. MUSIC SUDDENLY 207. STOPS, and the surface of the red and yellow bed gets a bump in its center that keeps raising, raising until it's a hump that's a head and shoulders, still raising until it looms over NANCY.

Then FRED KRUEGER's entire shape sweeps up into the yellow and red mass -- and the garish head, smoking and seething, pops through.

NEW ANGLE -- KRUEGER, a burned, sizzling black hump of a killer, clumps onto the floor between NANCY and the door.

NANCY falls absoltely still, and her face goes through a strange, almost sublime transformation.

NANCY (quietly) I know you're there, Krueger.

She turns and faces him.

FREDDIE You think you was gonna get away from me?

NANCY shakes her head.

NANCY I know you too well now, Freddie.

KRUEGER smiles bitterly. Coming closer.

FREDDY And now you die...

There's a SLICKERING RATTLE at his side, and he raises the only thing on him not charred -- the gleaming steel talons.

208. NANCY simply shakes her head again, as if seeing a light at the 208. end of her long, long tunnel. And the way she says the words, they might be appearing on the inside of her eyes.

NANCY It's too late, Krueger. I know the secret now -- this is just a dream, too -- you're not alive -- the whole thing is a dream -- so fuck off! I want my mother and friends again.

KRUEGER grins insanely, confused and amused at the same time.

FREDDIE You what?

NANCY (even, firm) I take back every bit of energy I ever gave you. You're nothing. You're shit.

And then she turns her back on him. KRUEGER bunches his fingers, producing a single ragged bundle of razor talons and raises his hand over the back of her head and neck.

NANCY closes her eyes and steps to the door.

CLOSE ON HER HAND, touching the door knob.

CLOSE ON KRUEGER'S KNIFE-FINGERS poised.

MUSIC BUILDS then SHRIEKS as KRUEGER stabs down, right through NANCY -- as if she were an optical illusion -- loosing his balance and falling down, down, down... And he's gone.

CUT TO:

209. EXT. ELM STREET. DAY. 209.

CLOSE ON NANCY'S FRONT DOOR AS NANCY jerks it open and blinks in the bright, diffused light. The MUSIC FADES on a transitional note, into light.

We hear BIRDS.

CHILDREN playing.

Early morning SOUNDS.

NANCY (to herself) God, it's bright.

MARGE sticks her head out, squinting, and nods. Sober.

MARGE Gonna burn off soon or it wouldn't be so bright.

NANCY turns and looks her mother over.

NANCY Feeling better?

MARGE They say you've bottomed out when you can't remember the night before. (shakes her head) No more drinking, Baby, suddenly I just don't feel like it any more.

She touches NANCY.

MARGE (CONTD) Didn't keep you up last night, did I? You look a little peeked.

NANCY smiles.

NANCY Nah. Just slept heavy.

The girl gives a wave and goes off. MARGE calls after.

MARGE See ya.

NANCY turns and waves.

NANCY See ya.

210. WIDER ON NANCY as she walks to the curb. The whole scene is 210. wrapped in an unseasonal tule fog, bright yet diffuse. We notice that NANCY's house no longer has bars on its windows. Then we see a familiar convertible pull up at the curb, top down. TINA and ROD are in the back seat. They all wave to MARGE as NANCY climbs in.

GLEN (calling) You believe this fog?

MARGE (laughs) I believe anything's possible.

TINA slaps five with NANCY.

TINA Lookin' good, girl!

ANGLE INSIDE THE CONVERTIBLE. GLEN slips into the seat next to NANCY. Someone else is driving, it seems. NANCY looks up to the DRIVER. The big MAN turns and grins at NANCY, a terrible, scarred, hideous leer of a grin -- FRED KRUEGER'S grin!

ANGLE BACK OUTSIDE THE CONVERTIBLE as its top clamps over the kids within -- a bright red and yellow top that closes as fast and hard as a beartrap! NANCY'S frightened face flies to the window, pressing against the thick glass as the car roars away from the curb and into the thick fog.

211. CAMERA PANS TO a group of LITTLE GIRLS, half-hidden by the fog, 211. jumping rope and singing gayly.

GIRLS One two -- Freddy's coming for you! Three four -- Better lock your door! Five six -- Get your Crucifix Seven eight -- Gonna stay up late! Nine ten -- Never sleep again!

MUSIC CROSSFADES WITH THIS SONG, expanding the simple tune to symphonic, boundless dimensions as the little girls fade into thin air, and we

FADE TO BLACK ROLL END TITLES.

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/ A Nightmare on Elm Street.
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