"In writing fiction, the more fantastic the tale, the plainer the prose should be. Don't ask your readers to admire your words when you want them to believe your story." - Ben Bova [ more quotes ]

"A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET"

by

Wes Craven



INT. (MONTAGE)

NIGHTMARE MUSIC THEME begins as we FADE UP on a SERIES OF
SHOTS, all CLOSE and teasing.

-- A man's FEET, in shabby work shoes, stalking through a
junk bin in a dark, fire-lit, ash-dusted place. A huge BOILER
ROOM is what it is, although we only glimpse it piecemeal.
Then we SEE a MAN'S HAND, dirty and nail-bitten, reach INTO
FRAME and pick up a piece of METAL.

-- ANOTHER ANGLE as the HAND grabs a grimy WORKGLOVE and
slashes at it with a straight razor, until its fingertips
are off.

-- CLOSE ON SAME HANDS dumping four fishing knives out of a
filthy bag. Their blades are thin, curved, gleaming sharp.

-- MORE ANGLES, EVEN CLOSER. We can HEAR the MAN's wheezing
BREATHING, but we still haven't seen his face. We never will.
We just SEE more metal being assembled with crude tools,
into some sort of linkage -- a splayed, spidery sort of
apparatus, against a background light of FIRE, and a deep
rushing of STEAM and HEAVY, DARK ENERGY.

-- And then we see this linkage attached to the glove.

-- Then the BLADES attached to all of it.

-- Then the MAN'S HAND slips into this glove-like apparatus,
filling it out and transforming it into an awesome, deadly
claw-hand with four razor/talons gleaming at its blackened
fingertips. Suddenly the HAND arches and STRIKES FORWARD,
SLASHING THROUGH a DARK CANVAS, tearing it to shreds.

EXT. LOS ANGELES - NIGHT - (2ND UNIT)

A PULSATION OF LIGHT AND SHADOW. MUSIC DROPS AWAY to a hushed
RUSHING OF WIND and DISTANT SIRENS. CAMERA RACKS INTO FOCUS
on a HIGH PANORAMA of the San Fernando Valley, its night sky
lit from within by a strange GREENISH LIGHT. TITLES BEGIN.

CAMERA TILTS DOWN and ZOOMS SWIFTLY into the valley's web of
light.

CUT TO:

INT. CONCRETE PASSAGEWAY

TITLES CONTINUE as TINA GRAY, a strong girl of fifteen in a
thin night shirt, moves towards us down a dark concrete
corridor. Her steps quicken as TITLES appear in the portion
of frame she leaves free.

A subliminal COLLAGE of SOUND threads in and out of the MUSIC.
Distant insane LAUGHTER. Slamming iron DOORS. A bleating
animal CRY. A LAMB, white and blank-faced, skitters across
her path and on into the dark. No reason why it's there.

Then another SOUND, much nearer -- the slithering SCRAPE of
something like fingernails across slate. It sets our teeth
on edge, twists the MUSIC, and sends TINA running.

INT. BOILER ROOM

Suddenly TINA's a tiny figure running among huge boilers
steam pipes and catwalks -- a shadowed forest of iron and
stone. She stops, listening intently as the SOUND of tiny
hooves suddenly turns into the rattle of DISTANT RAIN.

Then she hears RIPPING FABRIC.

Someone is shouldering behind a ragged screen of dirty canvas,
approaching TINA.

CLOSER ON THE CANVAS. The long curved fingerblades suddenly
punch through, flashing in the firelight, and begin ripping
through the thick fabric, as easily as scalpels through flesh.
They make a hideous, extended RIPPING SOUND.

TINA rushes away, hands over her ears.

ANOTHER ANGLE -- as the blinded girl stumbles backwards.
Then the canvas flaps free. The blades are gone. The TITLES
END, and everything goes silent.

CAMERA CIRCLES until TINA's looking right into our eyes. The
light from a nearby boiler pours through her thin night dress,
leaving her naked and vulnerable. Then a deep, ragged VOICE
whispers at her as CAMERA CLOSES IN ON HER FACE.

VOICE (O.S.)
One two, Freddie's coming for you...

TINA opens her mouth to scream but only a dry, yellow dust
pours out. And at that precise moment a huge shadowy MAN
with a grimy red and yellow sweater and a weird hat pulled
over his scarred face lunges at her. And it's his fingers
that are tipped with the long blades of steel, glinting in
the bony light and giving the hulk the look of an otherworldly
predator.

TINA dodges away, her legs suddenly elephantine and slow.
The MAN seizes the trailing hem of her nightgown and hauls
her back.

The MUSIC shrieks as TINA manages to tear free -- the MAN
lurches after her with a hoarse SHOUT as we --

SMASH CUT TO:

INT. TINA'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

TINA convulses in bed with a SCREAM, looking around wildly.
Someone is KNOCKING on her door.

WOMAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
You okay, Tina?

TINA'S MOTHER sticks her head in with a worried look. TINA
sits up and blows out a breath, groggy.

TINA
Just a dream, Ma...
(more to herself)
Damn dream, is all...

The woman, once attractive, ventures a step into the room. A
MAN hovers BACKGROUND. TINA'S mother waves him away without
looking, shoving a strand of bleached hair from her eyes.
She appraises her daughter.

TINA'S MOTHER
Some dream, judging from that.

She nods at TINA's nightshift.

TINA looks down at her nightgown, only now aware of the chill
penetrating it from the room. There are four long slashes up
its middle, cleanly cut as if by scalpels.

MAN (O.S.)
(distant, annoyed)
You coming back to the sack or what?

TINA'S MOTHER
Hold your horses.
(lower, to Tina as
she stands to leave)
You gotta cut your nails or stop
that kind of dreaming, Tina. One or
the other.

The woman shuts the door behind her. TINA looks back to her
nightgown.

TINA
(low)
Oh, shit.

She suddenly snatches up the cross that hangs over her head,
her face white as her sheet.

FADE TO BLACK:

BURN ON:

THE FIRST DAY

CHILDREN (O.S.)
(singing)
One two, Freddie's coming for you...
Three four better lock your door
Five six grab your crucifix...

EXT. HIGH SCHOOL - DAY

FADE UP ON SHOT OF this large high school and its crowds of
STUDENTS. FOREGROUND, TINA climbs out of a cherry-red 1959
Cadillac convertible with two other students, best friend
NANCY WILSON, and Nancy's boyfriend and owner of the car,
GLEN LANTZ.

FOREGROUND several GRADE SCHOOLERS are playing jump-rope,
and the old ditty they sing continues unbroken from TINA's
bedroom.

ROPE JUMPERS
Seven eight, gonna stay up late!
Nine ten -- never sleep again!

MOVING ANGLE FAVORING NANCY. She's a pretty girl in a letter
sweater, with an easy, athletic stride and the look of a
natural leader. GLEN, holding her hand, wears one of the
school's football jerseys; a good-natured, bright kid. Tina's
in mid-conversation.

TINA
(referring to kids'
song)
That's what it reminded me of --
that old jump rope song.
(shudders)
Worst nightmare I ever had. You
wouldn't believe it.

Nancy nods.

NANCY
Matter of fact I had a bad dream
last night myself...

TINA turns to NANCY, but before either can say more, ROD
LANE, a lean, Richard Gere sort in black leather and New
Wave studs joins up with them and interrupts.

ROD
(to Tina)
Had a hardon this morning when I
woke up, Tina. Had your name written
all over it.

Tina cracks her gum with a look of withering indifference.

TINA
There's four letters in my name,
Rod. How could there be room on your
joint for four letters?

The guy's stopped in his tracks.

ROD
Hey, up yours with a twirling lawn
mower!

He cuts off across the lawn.

TINA
Rod says the sweetest things.

NANCY
He's nuts about you.

TINA
Yeah, nuts.

TINA makes a face and rakes her fingernails across a tree as
she passes.

TINA
(yawns)
Anyway, I'm too tired to worry about
the creep. Couldn't get back to sleep
at all.
(beat)
So what you dream?

NANCY
Forget it, the point is, everybody
has nightmares once in a while. No
biggy.

GLEN
Next time you have one, just tell
yourself that's just all it is, right
while you're having it, y'know? That's
the trick. Once you do that, you
wake right up. At least it works for
me.

TINA looks at GLEN sharply. He kisses NANCY and darts off
for class.

TINA
Hey! You have a nightmare too?

But GLEN's gone.

TINA
Maybe we're gonna have the Big
Earthquake. They say things get weird
just before that...

BELLS ARE RINGING, and STUDENTS crowding; TINA and NANCY are
drawn into the crush.

FADE TO BLACK:

EXT. A VALLEY STREET - NIGHT

ANGLE ON A MODEST HOME; no car, just a couple of BIKES in
the drive. Every light in the house and yard is turned on.
We HEAR the rock group MADNESS played at a 'No adults home'
volume.

INT. TINA'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

ON GLEN, dialing. Nancy and TINA are watching, giggling.

TINA
I can't believe his mother let him
come over here.

NANCY
Right. Well, she didn't, exactly...

GLEN shoves a cassette into TINA's Ghetto Blaster.

GLEN
(to TINA)
See, I got this cousin who lives
near the airport, that it's okay for
me to stay with, right? So I found
this sound effects tape at Licorice
Pizza, and...

The phone is answered. GLEN jerks the tone arm off the record
with a SCRUUPT!!

GLEN (CONTD)
Hello, Mom?
(pushes the 'play'
button)
Yeah, out here at Barry's.

A JET PLANE begins to make itself heard on the tape. GLEN
moves the machine closer to the phone. It's a big plane --
sounds like a 747 coming in for a landing.

GLEN
Huh? Yeah, noisy as usual. Glad we
don't live here -- huh? Yeah, Aunt
Eunice says hello.

The Jet is SCREAMING IN now, full flaps and howling like a
monstrous banshee. NANCY and TINA dissolve into muffled
giggles.

GLEN
(shouting over the
din)
Right, right -- I'll call you in the
morning! Right! Huh? Yeah, sure, I,
huh?...

Suddenly the tape goes silent. GLEN blanches. Next moment
another ENGINE is heard, but this one is a FORD LOTUS
screaming by at 180 mph.

GLEN
(reacting to his
mother's reaction)
Uh... some kid's drag racing outside,
I think...

The sound effect changes abruptly to a SPEEDING SEDAN -- and
the ages-old SCREECH of BRAKES, last-second SCREAM and
horrible COLLISION. NANCY gamely tries to find the right
button to turn it off, but misses. There's a loud SCREEK of
fast-forward mayhem -- Glen improvises desperately.

GLEN
Listen, Mom, I got to go -- I think
there's been an accident out front --
I --

NANCY jumps back from the cassette player -- WORLD WAR II
bursts out at top volume -- MACHINE GUNS, HAND GRENADES,
DIVING BEARCATS and SHOUTS of charging Huns. GLEN makes a
last-ditch dive and flings the cassette out of the machine.

Blessed silence at last.

GLEN
Right. I'll call the police. No,
just some neighbors having a fight,
I guess. I'm fine, I'm fine! Call
you in the morning!

He hangs up and sags back.

NANCY
Worked like a charm.

GLEN
Jesus.

TINA shoves another cassette in, and MICHAEL JACKSON'S
'THRILLER' blasts from the STEREO. The kids relax, the CAMERA
GLIDES PAST THEM TO THE WINDOW.

The WIND is moving the bare TREE BRANCH outside. CAMERA PANS
BACK to the comfortably threadbare room, uneasy. We see NANCY
poking at a flame in the hearth as TINA comes FOREGROUND to
draw the drapes.

NANCY
Nice to have a fire.

TINA
Really. Turn 'er up a little.

NANCY turns a nearby valve handle, and the gas fire climbs
brightly over its artificial log. TINA joins her, heartened.

NANCY
Maybe we should call Rod, have him
come over too. He might get jealous.

TINA
Rod and I are done. He's too much of
a maniac.

GLEN
He should join the Marines, they
could make something out of him.
Like a hand grenade.

TINA laughs despite herself. NANCY brightens.

NANCY
See? You've forgotten the bad dream.
Didn't I tell you?

TINA shakes her head, wishing she had forgotten.

TINA
All day long I been seeing that guy's
weird face, and hearing those
fingernails...

NANCY looks up with a flinch.

NANCY
Fingernails?
(blinks, laughing)
That's amazing, you saying that. It
made me remember the dream I had
last night.

TINA looks up.

TINA
What you dream?

NANCY
I dreamed about this guy in a dirty
red and yellow sweater; I dream in
color, y'know; he walked into the
room I was in, right, right through
the wall, like it was smoke or
something, and just stared at me.
Sort of... obscenely. Then he walked
out through the wall on the other
side. Like he'd just come to check
me out...

The story has left the room deathly quiet. Especially TINA
seems effected.

TINA
(quietly)
So what about the fingernails?

NANCY remembers, imitating the frightful coincidence.

NANCY
He scraped his fingernails along
things -- actually, they were more
like fingerknives or something, like
he'd made them himself? Anyway, they
made this horrible nose --
(imitates)
sssssccrrrtttt....

TINA pales.

TINA
Nancy. You dreamed about the same
creep I did, Nancy...

The girls stare at each other.

GLEN
That's impossible.

They look at him. He looks away, as if suddenly listening.

TINA
What?

GLEN
Nothing.

TINA
There's somebody out there, isn't
there...

NANCY
I didn't hear anything...

Then there's an unmistakable SOUND. A distinct SCRAPING
against the house, just outside the window. Something
multiple, thin and sharp. Something like metal fingernails.
NANCY's mouth opens a fraction of an inch.

EXT. FRONT OF HOUSE - NIGHT

CLOSE ON FRONT DOOR as a BOLT UNLOCKS, a KEY TURNS, a CHAIN
is REMOVED. At last the door swings open and GLEN swaggers
out.

GLEN
I'm gonna punch out your ugly lights,
whoever you are.

No answer but a slight RUSTLE in the bushes. GLEN does a 180
and walks right back inside. The girls prod him right back
out, giddy with giggling fear.

GLEN
It's just a stupid cat.

NANCY
Then bring us back its tail and
whiskers.

The girls push him farther. GLEN edges towards the shadows.
Then the SCRITCHING again. GLEN stops; TINA edges back into
the house.

TINA
Anyway, I don't have a cat...

ANGLE INTO THE SHADOWS. Turned from the girls, GLEN sobers,
listening. IN HIS POV we see the street. Silent houses.
Motionless trees on empty lawns.

GLEN
Kitty-kitty? Chow chow chow?

Not a living, or dead, soul. GLEN turns back to the girls
with a shrug. Instantly, a large FIGURE pounces and throws
him to the ground with a shout.

The girls SCREAM in panic and run for the house.

REVERSE -- ROD leaps up and shouts like a sportscaster --

ROD
And it's number thirty-six, Rod Lane,
bringing Lantz down just three yards
from the goal with a brilliant tackle!
And the fans go wild!

ROD dances into the light, flashing a wild gypsy's grin at
TINA. The girl's relieved and frightened at the same time.

TINA
What the hell you doing here?

ROD
Came to make up, no big deal. Your
ma home?

TINA
Of course. What's that?

ROD takes the spindly hand rake he's found and scraps the
house's wall. It makes a terrible SCRIIITCHING SOUND. He
grins and tosses it aside.

ROD
Intense, huh?
(sizes up the three)
So what's happening, an orgy or
something?

GLEN
Maybe a funeral, you dickhead.

ROD wheels, a knife suddenly in his hand, as if ready to
take Glen's throat out. NANCY breaks between --

NANCY
-- Just a sleep-over date, Rod. Just
Tina and me. Glen was just leaving.

ROD eyes GLEN, laughs and flips the knife closed and away,
putting his arm around TINA's shoulder and laughing as if
it's all a great joke.

ROD
You see his face?
(lower)
Your ma ain't home, is she?
(to Nancy & Glen)
Me and Tina got stuff to discuss.

He pulls TINA inside without further ceremony.

NANCY
Rod...

But ROD's already got himself and TINA halfway through the
living room, heading into the darker part of the house.

ROD
We got her mother's bed. You two got
the rest.

ANGLE BACK ON GLEN AND NANCY.

NANCY
We should get her out of here...

TINA darts to the front door, her blouse half out.

TINA
Hey -- you guys're hanging around --
right?
(fake laughing/whine)
Don't leave me alone with this lunatic --
Pleeeeze, NANCY!

She disappears. GLEN looks at NANCY. Too innocent.

GLEN
So we'll guard her together. Through
the night.
(moving closer)
In each others' arms like we always
said.

NANCY
Glen. Not now. I mean, we're here
for Tina now, not for ourselves.

She kisses him lightly, then pushes him back.

GLEN
(frustrated)
Why's she so bothered by a stupid
nightmare, anyway?

NANCY
Because he was scary, that's why.

GLEN
Who was scary?

NANCY turns and looks at him.

NANCY
Don't you think it's weird, her and
me dreaming about the same guy?
(GLEN looks away;
NANCY stares closer)
You didn't have a bad dream last
night, did you?

GLEN gives her a funny look.

GLEN
Me? I don't dream.

He takes her inside. Over the SOUNDS of locks falling shut
we

FADE TO BLACK:

INT. TINA'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

FADE UP ON an old 50's CLOCK, one of those set into the black
plaster body of a stalking panther. It's just past 2 AM.

PAN the cold hearth and darkened living room to REVEAL GLEN
on the couch, cocooned in sheets. He's listening miserably
to the SOUNDS OF LOVEMAKING coming from the next room. TINA
peaks, ROD howls. Then silence.

GLEN
Morality sucks.

CUT TO:

INT. TINA'S MOTHER'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

This is a slightly larger room than TINA's. Adult. Female.
Spare in its appointments. The streetlight throws the narrow
bed into broken shadow and light. TINA AND ROD lie in each
other's arms in the middle of the big bed. Satiated.

TINA
I knew there was something about you
I liked...

ROD yawns into the pillows, happy.

ROD
You feel better now, right?

TINA
Jungle man fix Jane.

ROD
No more fights?

TINA
No more fights.

ROD
(sleepily)
Good. No more nightmares for either
of us then.

He pulls the covers over his head. He's almost out already.

TINA
(beat)
When did you have a nightmare?

ROD
(under the blankets)
Guys can have nightmares too, y'know.
You ain't got a corner on the fucking
market or something.

He rolls over, practically snoring, and pulls another cover
over his head. A dirty red and yellow cover.

TINA
(sleepily)
Where'd you get this snotty old thing?

SNORES from ROD. TINA yawns, turns off the light and snuggles
against ROD, pulling the cover gingerly over herself, too.

INT. TINA'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

CAMERA MOVES across the room of the original nightmare to
find NANCY alone in TINA's bed, staring at the slanting
ceiling above the bed. Thinking. We can just hear her HEART
beating. She sighs and turns on her side.

Immediately the wall above her head turns a faint reddish
hue, with a broad yellow smear across its center. All unseen
by NANCY, the wall begins to pulse in exact time with her
heart's beat.

CLOSE ON NANCY'S FACE. She closes her eyes.

ANGLE BACK UP ON THE CEILING JUST ABOVE HER HEAD. SOMETHING
presses against the surface from the inside. The plaster
bulges out as if suddenly elastic, taking the shape of the
thing pressing from inside -- taking the shape of a man's
face. The face opens its mouth. The knives rake through the
surface.

ANGLE ON NANCY -- as plaster dust snows down on her.

She jerks awake, sitting bolt upright. The face retracts
suddenly -- the wall is normal.

ANGLE DOWN ON NANCY as she looks up to the ceiling, touching
her hair and feeling the plaster dust.

REVERSE IN HER POV TO THE CEILING. There are three parallel
cuts in the plaster there. About eight inches long. As if
cut by sharp knives. Nothing else.

Back on NANCY. She draws the covers around her and shivers.
Eyes wide open.

EXT. TINA'S HOUSE - NIGHT

Not a car or person in sight. A stricken breeze dies in the
trees.

ZOOM IN on the window of the room where TINA sleeps. By the
time we're FULL IN CLOSE on it, the air is again still as
death. A moment later a PEBBLE bounces off the pane. The
NIGHTMARE THEME appears in the lower registers and holds its
breath.

Another PEBBLE strikes, with a sharper RAP.

INT. TINA'S MOTHER'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

CLOSE ON TINA'S FACE as her eyes open.

REVERSE IN HER POV. Another PEBBLE clatters off the glass.

TINA raises slowly.

TINA
ROD...

SNORES FROM ROD. TINA sits up.

PAST HER TO THE WINDOW. The WIND MOVES AGAIN; the trees brush
the window with their shadows. Then another pebble. RAP!
TINA slips to the window.

EXT. TINA'S BACKYARD - NIGHT

She looks out on an old yard with a patch of banana trees
rattling in the Santa Ana winds. It seems deserted, though
the welling dark won't let her be sure. Then another pebble --
PAP!

-- hitting with a sharp RACK FOCUS.

A LOW ANGLE TO WINDOW as TINA jumps back, startled. She hadn't
seen that one coming. But she's drawn back to the glass out
of curiosity, straining to see in the dark. It's as if the
stones are materializing out of thin air.

INT. TINA'S MOTHER'S ROOM - NIGHT

WHAP! This time a heavier stone, and a thin crack bristles
across the glass.

TINA
(low)
Who the fuck you think you are,
whoever you are?

EXT. TINA'S BACK YARD - NIGHT

WIDE ANGLE ON THE REAR OF THE HOUSE. A LIGHT COMES ON. TINA
appears in the doorway.

TINA
(listening)
Somebody there?

She can see through the backward to a yawning gate and the
back alley. No one there. But a word is spoken, as if by
wind.

VOICE
(garbled)
Tina.

TINA straightens, unable to swallow. There's a ragged, obscene
GIGGLE. Deep in the throat. Phlegmy.

TINA
Who the hell is that?

TINA charges across the yard and through the gate, the MUSIC
chasing after.

EXT. A SERVICE ALLEY - NIGHT

She brakes in the middle of the alley and whirls around.
Listening. Shivering in the same thin slashed nightgown.

A sharp crank of METAL, and fifty feet down the alley the
lid of an ash can rolls from the dark like a huge tin coin
and spirals noisily down.

LOW REVERSE ACROSS LID TO TINA. Despite herself she comes
over and touches it. She comes up with long worms on her
fingers.

Next moment the exact same shambling MAN from her nightmare
staggers into view fifty feet behind her. TINA falls back
into the shadows, shaking the worms off her fingers in
repulsion. The MAN turns and starts directly for her,
something shining on his right hand as he spreads his arms
wide. He starts scraping the steel FINGERNAILS along a
cinderblock wall. Orange sparks spurt out -- his arms elongate
until they reach from one side of the alley to the other --
and TINA is cut off from her home!

CLOSE ON HER as the SCRAPING of the blades gets louder and
closer. She begins to shake uncontrollably.

TINA
Oh, shit, please God...

KILLER
(softly, approaching)
This is God...

He holds up his steel-tipped hand like a surgical-steel
spider. TINA runs for her life.

WIDER ANGLE IN THE ALLEY -- a terrifying, all-out foot race
between the girl and her pursuer. The MAN is fast; the
distance between them closes with each heartbeat. TINA
overturns ashcans -- claws her way through a rotten back
fence, hammers against a window. Ashen FACES appear, recoil,
pull curtains closed and disappear in fright.

EXT. TINA'S STREET - NIGHT

TINA runs out onto front lawns, SCREAMING for help. No help
comes. In fact, the only response is for all the porch lights
on the block to be turned off. The MAN roars out from behind
a tree -- a tree too narrow to have hidden him -- nearly
upon the girl! TINA runs in panic -- at last making her own
home, only to be trapped against its locked front door.

She hammers against its thick wood.

TINA
Nancy! Open the door -- Nancy!

The MAN slows. He has TINA now and knows it.

MAN
She's still awake. Nancy can't hear
you.

TINA turns and looks full at the approaching MAN. Smudged by
deep shadow, he's big and hideous. He wears the same dirty
yellow sweater from the first nightmare -- from the wall
hanging and blanket too -- and has the same sagging hat and
leering grin over his misshapen face. And on his fingers are
the steel talons.

CLOSE ON HIM as he takes the blade on the end of his right
index finger and lopes off one of the fingers of his left
hand. Then another. We SEE the PIECES OF FINGERS fall past
TINA'S face in SLOW MOTION.

ANGLE ON THE GROUND of the FINGERS squirming on the ground,
one flopping onto TINA's naked foot.

TINA leaps back, sickened, and begins stamping on then as if
they were huge bugs.

The MAN snaps up his arm and the FINGERS fly back into place
on his hand. He leers at TINA -- then suddenly lunges at
her, sweeping with his cutting hand!

TINA's no weak sister -- blocks his arm, deflecting the
spines, and grabs the MAN's ugly face with her other hand.
But the face only slides off to the bone. The MAN presses
in, and TINA contorts in horror as the knives slash across
her shoulder -- cutting her deeply.

TINA staggers backward, GROANING, her foot now inexplicably
caught in bedclothes! She falls over her bed's comforter,
twists away from the man and, like a child, pulls the cover
over her! The skull-faced MAN crushes down, and there's a
fierce grappling -- punctuated by his GRUNTS and the girl's
DEAFENING SCREAMS -- and they both become totally wrapped in
the comforter -- until they're beneath it, fighting for life
and death.

INT. TINA'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

ROD lurches up into CLOSE UP in the lightless bedroom, half-
awakened by the tremendous struggle somewhere, somehow inside
the dark bed. ROD grabs groggily, lifting the blanket.

IN HIS POV we glimpse the dark underside of the blanket --
see TWO SHADOWY FIGURES flailing and clawing under the
bedspread -- TINA and the MAN -- or a shape that could be a
man -- raging against each other.

ROD drops the blanket and leaps from the bed, scared full
awake and terrified. Then the horrible TINA's GASPS change
to the CRIES of a terribly wounded victim. ROD instantly
jerks back the bedspread.

IN HIS POV we SEE TINA struggling and flailing along on the
sheets, the MAN nowhere in sight.

ROD
T-tina!?

Suddenly TINA -- eyes turned inward to her tormentor -- give
an awful jolt -- her arms and legs are spraddled as if by
overwhelming force and pinned to the bed. Next instant, her
nightgown flies apart and four long gashes chase across her
torso. From no visible instruments! A huge irrigation of
blood floods the bed.

Terrified, ROD dives for the light -- but at the same moment
something invisible grabs TINA, wielding her body in the air
and bringing it around in a swift blow that knocks ROD
crashing into the light -- smashing it to bits.

CLOSER ON HIM as he struggles around. In the blue FLASHES OF
ELECTRICITY ROD sees TINA sliding up the bedroom wall in a
dark smear, dragged feet first!

ANGLE ON ROD -- paralyzed by terror!

ANGLE ON TINA'S DYING EYES -- moving with her up the wall
and bumping around the corner onto the ceiling. She's just
looking at who's dragging her, eyes glazing.

REVERSE IN HER POV -- to the shadowy, horrendously ugly MAN,
dragging her with fierce glee across the ceiling, literally
swabbing the ceiling with her bloody body. SEEN in FORCED
PERSPECTIVE, the SHOT carries her across a great distance
without seeming to get anywhere -- as if the ceiling is an
endless plane.

ANGLE DOWN ON ROD -- on his hands and knees -- the lamp next
to him blurting blue SPARKS and STROBING the nightmare room.
ROD'S screaming up at TINA'S invisible tormentor.

ROD
What the hell's going ON here! Tina!

ANGLE ON TINA -- upside down, clawing at the hanging swag
lamp above her mother's dressing table -- desperate for some
anchor. But she's dragged away from it. The lamp swings back,
it's wires gushing more SPARKS.

CLOSER along the ceiling as TINA rakes a long furrow in the
ceiling with her fingernails. But her eyes are glazing,
glazing. And then they fall closed.

WIDE, UP ON THE CEILING, as her body suddenly flops loose,
hanging for an awful moment by the feet over the bed.

REVERSE ON ROD -- staring like a terrified child.

ROD
Tina --

REVERSE IN HIS POV -- as the body falls like a sack of rocks
onto the devastated bed, in SLOW MOTION, striking with a
huge splash of blood. A sick, awful GIGGLE floats around the
room, then ECHOES off into infinity. ROD staggers up, staring
around as if hoping to see this phantom.

ROD
You motherfucker! I'll kill you for
that!

INT. TINA'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

NANCY is sitting straight up in bed, terrified. The CRIES of
ROD are ringing through the whole house. She forces herself
to move -- bolting from the bed despite her terror and sense
of dread.

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

NANCY flies into the dark hall -- crashing directly into
SOMEONE who lurches out of the dark before her. She SCREAMS
and jumps back --

GLEN
What the hell's going on!?

NANCY
Oh -- jeez -- Glen! Rod's gone ape!

ROD (O.S.)
(sobbing)
I'll kill you!

NANCY grabs the door; it's locked; she pounds on it. BAM!
BAM! BAM!

Things fall into sudden, awful silence on the other side.
GLEN's voice cracks with fear.

GLEN
Rod?
(silence)
Rod, you better not hurt Tina...

ROD erupts into terrible HOARSE LAUGHTER AND SOBBING. Then
they hear BREAKING GLASS.

GLEN barrels into the door like the football player he is.
The frame splinters and they're in.

INT. TINA'S MOTHER'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Just inside the door NANCY slips and goes down hard. GLEN
finds her in the dark more by touch than sight.

GLEN
You okay?

NANCY
Yeah. Something slippery all over
here...
(feeling)
Tina?

No answer. The room is quiet as a tomb. Except for a steady
DRIPPING, from all over. Then GLEN finds a LIGHT SWITCH.

On the CLICK the devastation is revealed. There's BLOOD
everywhere: up the walls, over the clawed ceiling, soaking
the killing floor of the bed, and pooling in the dark red
puddle where NANCY has slipped and fallen.

GLEN
Oh, shit...

NANCY wobbles up and sees TINA in the center of the ravaged
bed. Unmistakably and utterly dead. NANCY presses against
the wall, then contorts and chokes.

GLEN
(numb)
I... I'm gonna call the cops --

He bursts from the room.

TIGHT ON NANCY. She turns away from the body in repulsion,
sticking her head through the shattered window ROD LANE used
for his escape, sucking in the cold night air and moaning.

FADE TO BLACK:

EXT/INT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT

FADE UP ON RED LIGHTS and SIREN as an unmarked POLICE CAR
speeds to the curb.

LT DON THOMPSON, a decent-looking man in his mid-40's, exits
and punches a cigarette from his pack. His shaken aide, a
uniformed patrolman named PARKER, greets him. (CAMERA FOLLOWS
them from the car straight into the station and eventually
to THOMPSON'S OFFICE.)

PARKER
Lieutenant Thompson. Sorry to wake
you, but --

LT THOMPSON
I'd've canned your ass if you hadn't.
What you got?

PARKER stumbles to open the door for THOMPSON as the man
bulls into the station at a furious pace.

PARKER
Her name was Tina Gray. It was her
home. Father abandoned ten years
ago, mother's in Vegas with a
boyfriend. We're trying to reach her
now.

LT THOMPSON grimaces as if he knows the story.

LT THOMPSON
What's the Coroner got to say?

PARKER
Something like a razor was the weapon,
but nothing found on the scene.

THOMPSON is already to the desk officer SERGEANT GARCIA.
The big MAN shoves him a sheaf of papers --

SERGEANT GARCIA
(wary)
Lieutenant. You know who --

LT THOMPSON
Where is she?

SERGEANT GARCIA
I put her in your office...

PARKER scurries after.

PARKER
Looks like her boyfriend did it. Rod
Lane. Musician type, arrests for
brawling, dope --

LT THOMPSON
Terrific. What the hell was she doing
there?

PARKER
She lived there.

LT THOMPSON
I don't mean her --

INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - NIGHT

THOMPSON enters his office and confronts NANCY and her mother,
MARGE SIMSON.

LT THOMPSON (CONTD)
I mean you.
(accusingly, to Marge)
What the hell was she doing there?

MARGE SIMSON is in her middle thirties; a good-looking woman
despite the hour and circumstances.

MARGE
Hello to you, too, Donald.

THOMPSON stops, the steam suddenly out of him. The girl is a
wreck and he winces to see it.

LT THOMPSON
Marge.

THOMPSON glances at PARKER and the other UNIFORMED COPS who
are in the room. As a man they head for the door. There's no
question who the boss is here. THOMPSON turns to NANCY. She
fumbles a smile.

LT THOMPSON
How you doing, pal?

NANCY
Okay. Hi, dad.

NANCY's dress is dark with dried blood, her skin clammy and
the color of paste. MARGE shoots her ex-husband a worried
glance. THOMPSON pulls a chair close to NANCY.

LT THOMPSON
I don't want to get into this now,
God knows you need time.
(hotter)
But I'd sure would like to know what
the hell you were doing shacked up
with three other kids in the middle
of the night -- especially a
delinquent lunatic like Lane.

NANCY weaves.

NANCY
Rod's not a lunatic.

LT THOMPSON
You got a sane explanation for what
he did?

The girl is shredding a Kleenex, staring off.

MARGE
Apparently he was crazy jealous.
Nancy said they'd had a fight, Rod
and Tina.

NANCY
(quietly)
It wasn't that serious...

MARGE
Maybe you don't think murder's serious --

NANCY sits bolt upright in her chair, her eyes flashing.

NANCY
She was my best friend! Don't you
dare say I don't take her death
seriously!
(lower, near tears)
I just meant their fights weren't
that serious.

The girl holds the woman's eyes a moment, then looks away.

NANCY (CONTD)
(to herself)
She dreamed this would happen...

LT THOMPSON
What?

NANCY
She had a nightmare about somebody
trying to kill her, last night. That's
why we were there; she was afraid to
sleep alone.

A tear splashes off the arm of her chair.

MARGE
She's been through enough for one
night. You have her statement.

The mother and daughter rise; THOMPSON raps on the door and
PARKER opens it.

LT THOMPSON
(to MARGE)
I suggest you keep a little better
track on her -- she's still a kid,
y'know.

MARGE wheels on him.

MARGE
You think I knew there were boys
there!? You try raising a teenager
alone.

Then she and the girl are gone. THOMPSON glares at PARKER.

LT THOMPSON
(low to PARKER)
See they get home okay.

PARKER shoves his hands in his pockets. ON HIS FACE we

FADE TO BLACK:

INT. NANCY'S KITCHEN - MORNING

BURN ON:

THE SECOND DAY

FADE UP ON MARGE SIMSON opening a new bottle of gin, pouring
herself a careful shot, drinking it, then chasing it with
coffee. Nearby a TV drones the morning news. We can't yet
see the SCREEN.

TV NEWSCASTER (O.S.)
(filter)
In the headlines this morning -- a
local teenage girl was brutally
murdered during an all-night party.

MARGE TURNS, startled, seeing NANCY coming downstairs.

The girl looks a little better than she did in the Police
Station, but her eyes are still red-rimmed, and a vacant
stress masks her face. She looks to the TV. Stops.

TV NEWSCASTER
Police say the victim, fifteen-year-
old Christina Grey, had quarreled
earlier with her boyfriend, Rod Lane,
a punk rocker with a history of
delinquency. Lane is now the subject
of a city-wide manhunt. According to --

The TV PICTURE has begun featuring a HANDHELD NEWSREEL SHOT
of a dark rubber BODY BAG being carried to a CORONER'S VAN.
Just before the thing is lifted inside, TINA'S bloodied,
white ARM slips from its zippered side and lolls into the
dark night air. A man rudely shoves it back inside and pulls
the zipper up the rest of the way.

WIDER -- as NANCY pales visible. MARGE darts to the TV and
slaps it off, then turning to NANCY. She looks at the girl a
moment, then goes to her and hugs her.

MARGE
(kind)
Where you think you're going?

NANCY
School.

MARGE
I could hear you tossing and turning
all night, kiddo. You've no business
going to school.

NANCY pulls away, determined.

NANCY
I gotta go to school, Mom. Please.
Otherwise I'll just sit up there and
go crazy or something.

MARGE studies her face a moment.

MARGE
Did you sleep?

NANCY
I'll sleep in study hall, promise.
I'd rather keep busy, you know?

She absently drains the woman's coffee cup -- then pecks her
cheek.

MARGE
Right home after.

NANCY
Right home after. See you.

MARGE watches the girl disappear outside, then lights a
cigarette from the one already burning in her fingers.

EXT. STREET - DAY

MUSIC slips back in, subtle but tense as we TRACK with NANCY
as she walks alone down a sidewalk edged with thick flowering
Oleander. She cocks her head, puzzled, as if sensing
something. MUSIC mounts. NANCY looks across the street.

REVERSE IN HER POV. A MAN is over there in dark clothes,
reading a newspaper, but really watching her.

NANCY shrugs and continues on, then stops and looks back
again.

IN HER POV we SEE the MAN is gone.

Next moment -- with a MUSIC STING -- a BLOODIED HAND jumps
out from the opposite direction, clamps over NANCY'S mouth
and drags her into the bushes.

EXT. BUSHES - DAY

NANCY struggles, twisting against the powerful assailant.

A WIDER ANGLE REVEALS ROD LANE -- barefoot, clad only in
jeans and leather jacket, still caked with dark blood. The
rest of his skin is pale as a ghost's.

ROD
I'm not gonna hurt you.

He releases her warily. NANCY makes no move to run or scream,
even though several STUDENTS pass on the nearby sidewalk.
This reassures ROD just a little.

ROD
Your old man thinks I did it, don't
he?

NANCY
He doesn't know you.
(eyeing the blood)
Couldn't you change?

ROD
The cops were all over my house.
(shivers)
They'll kill me for sure.

NANCY
Nobody's gonna kill you.

He runs his hands down his face, trying to believe that. The
two study each other.

ROD
I never touched her.

NANCY
You were screaming like crazy.

NANCY says this without accusation, just cool observation.

ROD
Someone else was there.

NANCY
The door was locked from your side.

ROD grabs her hard. His muscular body tenses.

ROD
Don't look at me like I'm some kind
of fucking fruitcake or something,
I'm warning you.

VOICE (O.S.)
Morning, Mr. Lane.

The boy jerks around. NANCY's father, his .38 leveled right
at ROD's belly, eases out of the bushes.

LT THOMPSON
Now just step away from her, son.
Like your ass depended on it. I'm
warning you.

ROD backs away, looking once at NANCY with a look of terrible
sadness. Then he dives out of the bushes and runs like hell.

THOMPSON snaps his revolver to fire -- but instinctively
NANCY jumps between --

NANCY
No!

THOMPSON jerks his gun into the air, furious.

THOMPSON
Jesus -- are you crazy!?

He plunges past the girl.

EXT. STREET - DAY

ROD races like a frightened animal across the lawns -- but
is soon cut off by the PLAINCLOTHESMAN NANCY saw watching
her before -- and then TWO UNIFORMED POLICEMAN, who close
from another angle. The chase is short and pitifully off-
balance, and ROD is soon wrestled to the ground. Next moment
one of the cops is holding ROD'S knife into the air for
THOMPSON to see. THOMPSON looks at NANCY, as if to say 'I
told you.' Background, ROD'S SHOUTS can be heard as he's
shoved into a SQUAD CAR.

ROD (O.S.)
I didn't do it -- !
(fading)
I didn't kill her, Nancy!

The car's door slams and ROD is gone. NANCY turns to her
father, livid.

NANCY
You used me, daddy!

LT THOMPSON
(exasperated)
What the hell you doing going to
school today, anyway -- your mother
told me you didn't even sleep last
night!

NANCY spins angrily and walks away.

LT THOMPSON
Nancy! Hey!

But she just keeps going.

FADE TO BLACK:

INT. CLASSROOM - DAY

FADE UP ON an ENGLISH TEACHER and CLASS, NANCY among the
kids, trying to concentrate.

TEACHER
According to Shakespeare, there was
something operating in Nature, perhaps
inside human nature itself, that was
rotten -- a canker, as he put it.

The TEACHER'S eyes glance across the room. ANGLE ON NANCY;
yawning but listening.

TEACHER
Of course Hamlet's response to this,
and to his mother's lies, was to
continually probe and dig -- just
like the gravediggers -- always trying
to get beneath the surface. The same
was true in a different way in Julius
Caesar. Jon, go ahead...

She nods to a SURFER who's been waiting uncomfortably in
front of the class. He squints at his book and begins, the
recitation a struggle between baked and salted brain and the
poetry of the Bard.

SURFER
(reading aloud)
Uh, In the most high and palmy state
of Rome...

WISEGUY STUDENT (O.S.)
California's the most high and palmy
state, man.

The SURFER halts with a grin; KIDS snicker.

ENGLISH TEACHER
Can it.

She glares them back into silence. The SURFER starts over,
as we CUT TO NANCY.

She's nodding off now, barely able to keep her eyes open in
the warm, close boredom of the classroom.

SURFER (O.S.)
In the most high and palmy state of
Rome, a little ere the mightiest
Julius fell...
(NANCY's head pitches
forward; she jerks
it back up, barely
awake)
The graves stood tenantless, and the
sheeted dead did squeak and gibber
in the Roman street...

NANCY's head has sunk again, eyelids drawn as if by enormous
weight. By the time her cheek's against the desk, the SURFER'S
VOICE is ECHOED and DISTANT. But another voice, TINA'S, is
very near, very much present. A sad, thin plaint.

TINA (O.S.)
Nancy.

NANCY gives a start. Her eyes lock onto something.

REVERSE. TILTED SIDEWAYS, IN HER HEAD'S POV, we look straight
out through the open doorway of the classroom into the hall.
There, standing in a black pool of fluid, is a full-sized
rubber body bag. Dark red and yellow. Weaving slightly, the
merest suggesting of movement within it.

BACK ON NANCY, sitting upright, wiping the sleep from her
eyes, shaking her head like a punchy prizefighter. She looks
back out the door.

REVERSE IN 'NORMAL' POV -- the hallway is empty. But there's
a dark smear on its floor tiles.

NANCY looks nervously towards the rest of the class. No one
else has noticed a thing outside the door. All are dumbly
spellbound by the SURFER, who now recites like a deep-voiced
robot, his face wreathed by white hair.

SURFER
O God, I could be bounded in a
nutshell and count myself a king of
infinite space, were it not that I
have bad dreams...

ANGLE BACK ON NANCY. She slips from her seat, eye warily on
the teacher and class. But no one turns as she disappears
through the doorway.

INT. SCHOOL HALLWAY - DAY

NANCY turns and looks both directions. No sign of anybody.

TINA (O.S.)
(distant)
Nancy.

NANCY wheels and sees the bag, prone on the tiles at the far
end of the hall, at the end of a long snail's trail of slime.
A pale hand thrusts out of it. A moment later, as if pulled
by invisible gravity, the bag slides out of sight into an
intersecting corridor.

NANCY
Tina!

NANCY starts running for it.

ANGLE AT THE CORNER as NANCY races blindly around the turn
and smashes straight into a BODY lunging at her from the
opposite direction! Both go down.

ANGLE AT THE FLOOR. A dazed freshman HALLGUARD cranks herself
up on one elbow. She wears a plastic plaque on her red and
yellow sweater that reads 'Hall Guard'. Her nose is bleeding
from the impact.

HALLGUARD
Y-you're not supposed to run. W-
where's your pass -- you got a pass?

NANCY leaps up --

NANCY
Screw your stupid pass!

She turns -- sees the body bag halfway down this darker,
narrower hall, upright again. But just as she sees it, it
tips and pitches headlong through a doorway -- like some
godawful rotten tree finally timbering down. She can hear
the sickening CRUNCHING of it falling down a long flight of
stairs.

NANCY runs for it again. The HALLGUARD staggers up FOREGROUND,
bleeding profusely from her eyes and ears.

HALLGUARD
Hey, no running in the halls!

The HALLGUARD raises her hand and we see it's tipped with
long metal spikes.

REVERSE ANGLE AT THE DOOR as NANCY runs up. NANCY turns to
check out the HALLGUARD. She's vanished. NANCY turns and
looks down through the open door. The MUSIC sweeps through a
strange, brooding movement of strings, mounting towards the
NIGHTMARE THEME.

INT. A STAIRWELL

NANCY edges into the stairwell and looks down. Looks like
there's a fire somewhere down there, from the way the orange
light dances. But there's only a low WHITE NOISE.

NANCY
Tina?

No answer. NANCY starts down the stairs.

INT. BOILER ROOM - DAY

NANCY comes off the stairs into a dank boiler room. The smear
trail is there. It runs behind a cracking, red-hot boiler
the size of a diesel locomotive. Everything about the place
feels dreadfully wrong, and the MUSIC is deep into the
NIGHTMARE THEME when it pauses.

TIGHT ON NANCY. Slow terror moves into her face. There's a
low, sinister GIGGLE.

REVERSE IN HER POV -- we see a tangle of pipes, shadows, and
the tainted fire of the huge boiler. Then from behind this,
deeply shadowed but still identifiable, steps TINA's KILLER.
The same filthy red and yellow sweater and slouch hat, the
same melted face twisting into a smile, the same GARBLED
LAUGH as he slides the long blades from beneath his shirt
and fans them on the ends of his bony fingers.

NANCY
Who are you?

MAN
Gonna get you.

The leering MAN brings the bloodied scalpel-fingernails across
his own chest, splitting a nipple. Yellow fluid pours out.
MAGGOTS and WORMS.

NANCY forgets the question -- jerks around and flees in blind
panic into the first opening she sees -- a dark pipe tunnel.

INT. PIPE TUNNEL

ANGLE IN THE NARROW PASSAGEWAY. In the BACKGROUND the killer
shambles towards her; FOREGROUND NANCY breaks into a run.

The killer sprints -- NANCY tears ahead into darkness.

She flees deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of steaming,
SIZZLING pipes, squeezing through smaller and smaller
openings. The killer is just yards behind her, and soon she's
trapped, just as TINA was before her.

She presses her back to the wet bricks. There's no hope of
fighting him off, for NANCY is not as strong as TINA. But
she is smart as hell, and thinking even in this nightmare.
So by the time the creep has raised his knives to strike,
NANCY has realized something. She wheels and shoves her arm
against one of the scalding steam pipes. In the same split
second we HEAR her flesh scald, we

CUT TO:

INT. ENGLISH CLASS - DAY

NANCY lurches up SCREAMING, arm raised to ward off the
invisible blow, books clattering to the floor -- other GIRLS
nearby SCREAM in surprise as she stumbles over them. Then
she stops, confused and groggy from the nightmare.

WIDER ANGLE. EVERYBODY is staring at NANCY as if she's gone
mad. The ENGLISH TEACHER rushes over, herself frightened by
the terror in the girl's eyes.

TEACHER
Okay -- Okay, Thompson! Everything's
all right now -- Nancy!

NANCY jerks around with panicked eyes, expecting the killer
to leap from any direction. But there's only the sea of
staring eyes.

NANCY begins methodically picking up her books.

TEACHER
I'll call your mother.

NANCY
No! No, really, I'm fine. I'll go
straight home. I'm okay.

She marches for the door.

TEACHER
You'll need a hall pass!

But the girl's gone.

EXT. THE SCHOOL - DAY

NANCY walks out of the building, shaken. Then she pauses at
one of the big pine trees out front, stops and rests her
head against its bark, teeth set. NANCY starts to shake, and
next second she's sobbing like a broken-hearted, frightened
child.

But she shakes herself silent. Wipes the tears away with a
slash of sleeve. She rubs her arm absently, lost in thought,
then reacts in surprise and pain. She lifts her arm and stares
at the spot she's touched.

INSERT ON HER ARM and the BURN there; about the size and
shape of a half-dollar.

WIDER ON NANCY. Utterly, chillingly confused.

TINA, against the tree inches from NANCY -- turns to her and
says --

TINA
Couldn't get back to sleep at all.
(beat)
What you dream?

EXT. A BUSY STREET - DAY

NANCY is walking quickly, head erect, jaw set. Then she enters
her father's Police Station.

INT. VAN NUYS POLICE STATION - DAY

NANCY crosses directly to the GARCIA.

NANCY
My dad here?

GARCIA looks up from his paperwork.

SERGEANT GARCIA
Lieutenant.

LT THOMPSON emerges from another room, uneasy to see NANCY.

LT THOMPSON
Decide to take a day off after all?

NANCY
Dad, I want to see Rod Lane.

THOMPSON doesn't miss a beat.

LT THOMPSON
Only family allowed, Nancy. You know
the drill.

NANCY
Just want to talk to him a second.

LT THOMPSON
He's dangerous.

NANCY
You don't know he did it.

LT THOMPSON
No, I know, thanks to your own
testimony, that he was locked in a
room with a girl who went in alive
and came out in a rubber bag.

NANCY flinches; her father shows the first signs of color in
his neck.

NANCY
I just want to talk to him.
(beat, lower)
Please, Dad.

THOMPSON shifts almost imperceptibly towards GARCIA, then
turns back to NANCY.

LT THOMPSON
Make it fast.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. CELL AREA - DAY

A GUARD exits pushing a cart of food trays. NANCY waits warily
until he's gone, then looks back to ROD LANE. ROD looks more
like a captured coyote than a human; haggard, ribbed,
expecting poisoned bait. His hair is wet, his clothes are
borrowed jeans and work shirt.

NANCY
(low)
And then what happened?

ROD
I told you.
(reluctantly)
It was dark, but I'm sure there was
someone else IN there, under the
covers with her.

NANCY reacts.

NANCY
How could somebody get under the
covers with you guys without you
knowing it?

ROD
How the fuck do I know?
(beat)
I don't expect you to believe me.

NANCY studies his encrypted eyes. Surprisingly, she looks
like she just might believe him. She leans closer with a new
thought.

NANCY
What he look like? You get a look at
him?

He looks away.

ROD
No.

NANCY
Well then how can you say somebody
else was there?

ROD
Because somebody cut her. While I
watched.

Now the place is so quiet you can hear heartbeats.

NANCY
Somebody cut her while you watched
and you don't know what he looked
like?

ROD smiles an insane smile, stuck with a reality no one will
buy.

ROD
You couldn't see the fucker. You
could just see the cuts happening,
all at once.

NANCY gives a twitch.

NANCY
What you mean 'all at once'?

ROD
(low)
I mean, it was as if there were four
razors cutting her at the same time.
But invisible razors. She just...
opened up...

By now he's picking at a clot of dark blood on his jacket,
as if it was a scab on his own body. Then he catches NANCY
watching and turns away to the back of the cell. He smashes
his fist into the wall -- bone-crushing blows that scare the
wits out of NANCY.

NANCY
Rod!

He stops, and his fist is dripping blood as he says in a
small, sad voice.

ROD
I probably could've saved her if I'd
moved sooner... But I thought it was
just another nightmare, like the one
I had the night before.
(beat)
There... was this guy who had knives
for fingers...

CLOSE ON NANCY, unable to swallow the gorge rising in her
throat. ROD turns to her, and to his surprise she's ashen.

ROD (CONTD)
Do you think I did it?

NANCY
No.

FADE TO BLACK:

EXT. ELM STREET / NANCY'S HOME - NIGHT

FADE UP ON ESTABLISHING SHOT as a spooky WIND sets a DOG
BARKING down the block. A CAR goes by, then this pleasant
residential street falls into silence. CAMERA has MOVED IN
on NANCY's well-tended two-story home.

INT. NANCY'S KITCHEN - NIGHT

The house is in shadow. Alone, MARGE scrapes the last of the
evening's dishes and slips them into the dishwasher. Neither
she nor her daughter has touched the food. But MARGE is well
into a bottle of gin; her appetite for that is growing, right
along with her dread. She turns and looks up the stairs,
calling.

MARGE
Nancy, don't fall asleep in there.

NANCY (O.S.)
I won't.

MARGE
Get into bed.

INT. UPSTAIRS BATHROOM - NIGHT

NANCY
I will.

NANCY'S in the tub, so drowsy she can hardly rinse without
falling asleep. The water in the tub is opaque with suds.
Luxurious.

CLOSER ANGLE, AT WATER LEVEL ON NANCY. Her eyes droop. She
slides closer to the surface of the water, letting its heat
soothe her nerves. Her eyes stare straight up, glazed; her
breathing deepens.

REVERSE, across to her legs, crooked, one knee on each side
of the tub. There's a ripple in the water between. Then
something tiny and shiny breaks the surface between them. It
pops up with a slithering MUSIC CUE and catches a sliver of
light. Then it begins to rise.

Higher and higher it rises, soon accompanied by another,
then two more shining, gleaming blades, and then the full
glove and dark hairy hand and then the wrist and arm, straight
up light an evil sapling between the girl's knees, the knives
blossoming into a bright flower of razor sharp steel in the
air, moving over the girl's belly. The hand rears back, the
claws arch to strike.

MARGE (O.S.)
(approaching)
Nancy?

MARGE raps on the door. The instant she does NANCY jerks up,
opening her eyes groggily. The dark wet arm, hand and knifes
are gone.

NANCY
What?

MARGE (O.S.)
(through the door)
You're not falling asleep, are you?
You could drown, you know.

NANCY
Mother, for petesakes.

MARGE (O.S.)
It happens all the time.
(brighter)
I've got some warm milk all ready
for you. Why don't you jump into
bed?
(fading)
I'm gonna turn on your electric
blanket, too. C'mon, now.
(then she's gone into
another room)

NANCY
(low)
Warm milk. Gross.

She slides down to water level again, and sings softly,
thoughtfully to herself.

NANCY
One, two, Freddie's coming for you,
three four, better lock your door,
five six, grab your crucifix, seven
eight gonna stay up late, nine ten,
never sleep again...

The next instant she's jerked with incredible violence
straight down beneath the surface of the tub -- as if the
bottom had suddenly dropped out and she was in a bottomless
well!

EXT. UNDERWATER SHOT - NIGHT

LOOKING UP PAST HER ANKLES we SEE NANCY pulled sharply down
into really deep water, the dim light of the surface and
bathroom beyond receding with each yank. And yet she somehow
flails and gasps and struggles back towards the surface,
managing by pure panic to break the surface with her hands!

INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE BATHROOM

MARGE rushes to the door and listens, alarmed at the wild
SPLASHING audible through the locked door.

MARGE
Nancy! NANCY!

EXT. UNDERWATER SHOT - NIGHT

MARGE'S VOICE reaches to the girl, who thrusts up through
main force and breaks the surface with her head and shoulders.

INT. BATHTUB

Gasping and choking, NANCY breaks the surface of her
bathwater, like a drowning sailor getting one last chance.
Her mother's VOICE booms over her, ECHOED and frantic -- and
the loud BANGING on the door finally opens her eyes. She
turns and calls gasping to her mother --

NANCY
Mommy!

REVERSE ON THE DOOR -- as MARGE, using the old hangar through
the doorhandle trick, makes it into the room. She rushes
across to the tub. NANCY is staggering up in the bathwater,
again with solid porcelain beneath her feet.

MARGE
I told you! Hundreds of people a
year drown like that!

The mother throws a towel around the gasping girl, helps her
from the tub and begins drying her like a child. NANCY looks
like she's likes paralyzed with some sort of weird dread.

MARGE
You okay?

NANCY
Great

MARGE
(not believing it for
a minute)
To bed with you, c'mon.

MARGE rushes out to get the room ready. NANCY turns and looks
at herself in the cabinet mirror, then opens the medicine
chest and begins a quick, furtive search.

CLOSER as she takes out the box of No Doz and slips it into
her robe.

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

NANCY emerges from the bathroom yawning. MARGE follows as
the girl plods obediently to her room.

MARGE
No television, forget the homework,
no phone calls.

NANCY
No, Mother. Yes, Mother. No, Mother.

INT. NANCY'S ROOM - NIGHT

MARGE
And no school tomorrow, either. You
take a little vacation, relax and
rest for a change.

NANCY
Yes, Mother. G'night.

MARGE offers a smile, and a little yellow pill.

MARGE
Take this, it'll help you sleep.

NANCY
Right.

NANCY pops it in her mouth and swallows obediently. MARGE
leans to her with a kiss.

MARGE
Sleep tight, don't let the bedbugs
bite.

MARGE goes out, relieved. NANCY closes the door, leans against
it and spits the pill into her hand. She tosses it straight
out her window and takes a NoDoz.

FADE TO BLACK:

FADE UP ON INSERT OF TELEVISION SCREEN

A MONSTER MOVIE in BLACK AND WHITE. NO SOUND from the set.

PULL BACK to REVEAL NANCY propped up in bed, furtively
watching. Or is she just thinking? A bedside CLOCK reads
12:45 pm.

The girl YAWNS. She shakes herself violently and sits up
straighter, forcing herself to concentrate on the movie.

ON THE TELEVISION SCREEN. A DIVER struggles to keep facing a
large circling shark.

ON NANCY. Her eyes droop shut -- then she jerks awake,
rattling her head as if it were a radio drifting off station.
She tumbles out of bed, throws open the window and takes a
deep breath of the cool night air.

EXT. NANCY'S HOUSE AND STREET - NIGHT

HIGH ANGLE, AT SECOND-STORY LEVEL. NANCY looks directly across
the street to a lighted, open window. Its curtains, sucked
out and waving in the night breeze, give the only motion to
the deserted street.

Then someone pitches out of the dark at her. NANCY gives a
YELP -- then clamps her hand over her mouth as she recognizes
GLEN, balanced precariously on the rose trellis outside her
window.

GLEN
Sorry! Saw your light on. Thought
I'd see how you were.

She gets herself together, barely.

NANCY
Sometimes I wish you didn't live
right across the street.

GLEN
Shut up and let me in. You ever stand
on a rose trellis in your bare feet?

INT. NANCY'S ROOM - NIGHT

NANCY looks over her shoulder to make sure her mother hasn't
heard. GLEN's already through her window and planted on her
bed. NANCY points to a chair.

NANCY
If you don't mind.

GLEN crosses to the chair and plops down.

GLEN
So. I heard you freaked out in English
class today.

There's no maliciousness in his voice, and the familiar
frankness is actually comforting to NANCY.

NANCY
Guess I did.

GLEN
Haven't slept, have you?

NANCY
Not really.

NANCY tries to smile, but can't fake it very well. GLEN looks
her over.

GLEN
You look dead and rained on, if you
want the ugly truth. And what did
you do to your arm?

She shrugs, trying to keep it casual.

NANCY
Burned myself in English class.

She hazards a look in the mirror, and her jaw drops.

NANCY
M'god, I look twenty years old.
(turning back to him)
You have any weird dreams last night?

GLEN
Slept like a rock.

NANCY
(pleased)
Well at least I have an objective
wall to bounce this off.
(off)
You believe it's possible to dream
about what's going to happen?

GLEN
No.

NANCY
You believe in the Boogey Man?

GLEN
One two, Freddie's coming for you?
No. Rod killed Tina. He's a fruitcake
and you know it.

NANCY
You believe in anything?

GLEN
I believe in you, me, and Rock and
Roll. And I'm not too sure about you
lately.

NANCY thinks.

NANCY
Listen, I got a crazy favor to ask.

GLEN
Uh-oh...

NANCY
It's nothing too hard or anything.
(beat)
I'm just going to... LOOK for someone,
and... I want you to be sort of a...
guard. Okay?

GLEN makes the Twilight Zone sound.

NANCY
Okay?

GLEN
Okay, okay.
(beat)
I think.

She comes very close to him.

NANCY
You won't screw up, right? I mean, a
whole lot might depend on it.

The way she's looking at him gives him the creeps.

GLEN
Okay, I won't screw up.

Nancy takes a deep breath. Then without another word turns
off the TV and the light.

GLEN
(in dark)
Jesus, it's dark in here.

NANCY
Shhh. Now listen, here's what we're
gonna do...

EXT. ELM STREET - NIGHT

FADE UP ON NANCY, still in her pajamas, walking through the
shadowy streets near her home, listening for the slightest
sound. We MOVE with her. But nothing, not even the dog barking
earlier, is there now. NANCY peers into the darkness of lawns
and trees behind her.

NANCY
(stage whisper)
You still there?

Across the street and a distance away, GLEN steps from behind
a tree.

GLEN
Yeah. So?

NANCY
Just checking -- keep out of sight!

GLEN throws up his hands in exasperation and walks back out
of sight. NANCY turns and looks down between the houses,
deep into a dark alleyway. Then she forces herself to walk
into it.

EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT

MOVING WITH HER as she makes herself go deeper and deeper
into shadows. Each time she pauses and waits, the MUSIC grows
more threatening and expectant. The feeling is of immense
tension -- we're sure the killer will come screaming out on
her at any second.

But he doesn't. In fact absolutely nothing happens, and NANCY
emerges from the far end of the alley unscathed. The only
thing strange is that she now finds her self looking across
the mall to

EXT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT

The Police Station. It takes her a little by surprise, it
just seems to have appeared.

MUSIC creeps into the NIGHTMARE THEME as NANCY whispers
hoarsely back down the dark alley.

NANCY
Still there?

EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT

We only HEAR the DISTANT VOICE, slightly ECHOED.

GLEN'S VOICE (O.S.)
(yawning)
Still here!

NANCY
On your toes, right?

NANCY stares into the dark trying to see him, but she can't.
She turns back and makes up her mind to move without him in
sight.

EXT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT

MUSIC MOUNTS as we MOVE WITH NANCY across the lawns to the
police station, creeping to the first lighted window she
sees. It's a low, barred basement window, and NANCY reacts
as soon as she looks through it.

INT. ROD'S CELL - NIGHT

NANCY'S POV down into ROD LANE's cell. The boy is on his
rough cot, twitching in disturbed sleep. And a long SHADOW
is sliding across the wall.

A big SHAPE appears in the shadowed corridor outside the
boy's cell, and as IT walks closer NANCY can barely see it's
the shambling, grimly scarred man with the filthy red and
yellow sweater and strange slouch hat pulled across his brow.
The KILLER from all of their nightmares.

And this giant shadow of a man passes through the bars of
the cell, like so much evil Jello. Halfway through he pauses,
turning to check over his shoulder. We see the bars clearly
penetrating his body, going in his head, passing out his
ankles. Then he turns back to ROD and moves forward, and
within another heartbeat is beside the boy.

EXT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT

NANCY draws back sharply, swallowing in terror. She looks
behind her for help.

NANCY
Glen.

No answer.

NANCY
(louder)
Glen?!

The street is absolutely deserted. There is no motion, and
no sound save one: the distant but unmistakable sound of
GLEN SNORING.

NANCY
GLEN!

A beat of silence after the shout's echoes die, then the
steady, boyish SNORES again. NANCY swears under her breath
and jerks back around, forcing herself to look again into
ROD's cell.

INT. ROD'S CELL

IN HER POV -- the killer picks up ROD's bedsheet and tests
it between his powerful hands. Without thinking, NANCY bangs
against the glass.

NANCY
Rod! Look out!

The KILLER wheels around, locking eyes with NANCY. The girl
goes white. The man's face is in the light, and it's horrible --
seething with hatred and a twisted, insane intelligence.

The hold of those eyes is only broken when ROD rolls up on
an elbow with a deep, troubled GROAN. The instant ROD does
this, the KILLER fades into the shadows in the cell. But
even then his eyes hold on NANCY's until the last second
he's visible.

ROD looks around the cell groggily, runs his fingers through
his matted hair, then collapses back on his pillow. No matter
how hard NANCY screams, ROD never once looks at the window.
He just pulls the twisted covers about his shoulders and
succumbs once more to sleep.

And now the bed sheet is no longer on the bed. The KILLER,
materializing out of the shadow again, is holding it between
his hands like a garrote. He looks up and leers at NANCY,
then moves for ROD.

EXT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT

ANGLE BACK ON NANCY. She pounds on the window, then turns in
frustration and yells into the night.

NANCY
Glen!!

She turns back to the cell in desperation.

INT. ROD'S CELL

IN NANCY'S POV we look into a cell that is quite deserted
save for ROD. Sleeping peacefully.

EXT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT

NANCY pulls back from the window, stunned.

NANCY
I swear...

Suddenly NANCY feels utterly exposed. She shivers, chilled
and vulnerable to the bone in her thin night clothes. She
can't move. It's as if some great nerve between her instincts
and body had been severed. And she hears the SOUND behind
her. A sort of filling-vibrating Scrriiitchh.

MUSIC sneaks in -- the unmistakable NIGHTMARE THEME, creeping
over her. NANCY forces herself, by sheer will, to look.

Ahead of her perhaps twenty-five feet, covered with a thick
plastic body bag through which we can barely see her face,
is TINA. Standing square in the middle of the street. A dark
ooze of BLACK EELS roil out of its bottom, and at its top,
the zipper CHATTERS down and the greenish-white face of TINA
lolls out. She gestures, supplicating, her watery eyes
desperate to convey some desperate message.

The MUSIC FALLS TO A HUSH.

NANCY backs away, eyes streaming tears.

NANCY
Glen, where are you! Wake up! Glen!

DEEP RAGGED VOICE
I'm here.

NANCY twists around in horror at the same instant the KILLER
grabs for her face with his knife-fingers! The girl
instinctively pitches back, then scrambles up and runs like
hell!

NANCY
Glen! Glen!!!

EXT. ELM STREET - NIGHT

MOVING WITH NANCY at full gallop, running blind. She crashes
through a sawhorse into a new sidewalk, sinking into the wet
cement over her ankles. The stuff sticks to her legs in long
gluey globs and she can barely pull her feet loose.

The KILLER looms nearby, mocking her -- his scalpel claws
gleaming in the streetlight. He just misses the girl as she
wrenches free and flees again, now so winded she can only
stagger.

MOVING WITH THEM. Time after time NANCY just barely manages
to elude the shadowy form, leaping from his reach by inches
and pouring on more steam. It's too close to even bother
screaming now; and besides, that would take breath she doesn't
have. The only SOUND is of RUNNING FOOTSTEPS, RASPING BREATH
and the KNIFE-FINGERS WHISTLING through the air.

EXT. NANCY'S HOME - NIGHT

NANCY tears across her front lawn and into the open front
door of her home, SLAMMING it with all her might. There's a
tremendously satisfying CONCUSSION of wood against doorframe,
and the LOCKS fall shut.

INT. NANCY'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

NANCY
Glennn!!!

But her voice is garbled as if she's under water, and there's
no answer. The only clue to Glen being there at all is his
distant SNORING. Innocent. Persistent. Deep.

NANCY stops, breath in shreds, face smeared with dirt and
tears. Something is clawing the window in the dark of the
kitchen. NANCY looks and catches the MAN prying at the glass
with his big knife-fingers, the sharp blades SIZZLING against
the edges of the glass as they crack it away from the frame.
NANCY runs upstairs in blind panic.

INT. NANCY'S ROOM - NIGHT

NANCY darts into her unlit bedroom, slams the door and locks
it.

Safe at last.

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 pillow 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 scarred 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!

Instantly the MUSIC STOPS. And a moment later the room is
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
(mostly to herself)
I must be going nuts...

MARGE (O.S.)
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.

EXT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT

GLEN's CADILLAC CONVERTIBLE 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
Oh, I see. That makes it all perfectly
clear.

INT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT

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 (O.S.)
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.

INT. CELL BLOCK - NIGHT

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!

INT. BOOKING ROOM - NIGHT

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.

INT. ROD'S CELL - NIGHT

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.

INT. BOOKING ROOM - NIGHT

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

INT. ROD'S CELL - NIGHT

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.

ANGLE THROUGH THE BARS as NANCY, GLEN, LT THOMPSON and GARCIA
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 marionette 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:

EXT. FOREST LAWN CEMETERY - DAY

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 (O.S.)
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
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 tosses down
her cigarette 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.

EXT. CEMETERY PARKING AREA - DAY

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 fingernails.

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

EXT. UCLA SCHOOL OF MEDICINE - DAY

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

UCLA SCHOOL OF MEDICINE
INSTITUTE FOR THE STUDY OF SLEEP DISORDERS

INT. A LABORATORY SLEEPING CHAMBER

A NURSE applies sensors 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?

WIDER, REVEALING DR SAMUEL KING, a young, curly-haired
internist; 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
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 frightening,
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 good-night 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:

INT. THE OBSERVATION ROOM

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 pathology
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
Okay, good. She's asleep.

MARGE
(immensely relieved)
Thank God.

MUSIC RISES SOLEMNLY, MAJESTICALLY into a haunting transition
as we

DISSOLVE TO:

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

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

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

WIDER ANGLE -- the mother and DOCTOR watching.

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.

INT. THE SLEEPING ROOM

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.

INT. CONTROL ROOM - DAY

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
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
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 --
dissonant and threatening, creeps in -- the NIGHTMARE THEME
slurred into awful minors and weird dissonance. 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, behind.

DR KING
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 laser. 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.

INT. SLEEPING ROOM

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 hypodermic needle,
spilling most of the stuff on himself with his shaking hands --
the SCREAMS AND CURSES of NANCY are deafening and worthy of
a stevedore 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:

EXT. NANCY'S HOUSE - DAY

BURN ON:

THE SIXTH DAY

FADE UP ON NANCY'S HOUSE, early morning.

INT. NANCY'S KITCHEN - DAY

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 translucent, 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
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!

Furious, NANCY yanks open the drawer before MARGE can stop
her 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
(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
Nancy!

But NANCY runs past her mother for the front door.

MARGE
Nancy -- it's only a nightmare!

NANCY turns in the doorway.

NANCY
That's enough!

ON THE DOOR SLAM, WE

CUT TO:

EXT. SHAKESPEARE BRIDGE - DAY

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

GLEN
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. Dream skills.

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
Antipersonnel 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.

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

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...

WIDENING TO REVEAL THE HOUSE as NANCY walks across her front
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.

INT. MARGE'S ROOM - EVENING

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

NANCY (O.S.)
Mom, what's with the bars!?

REVERSE to MARGE, propped against the headboard of her bed,
a 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
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.

INT. NANCY'S CELLAR/NIGHT

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
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
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
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
(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
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
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
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
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
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.

EXT. ELM STREET - NIGHT

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.

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

GLEN, yawning, crosses and picks up his telephone.

GLEN
Hello?

NANCY
(telephone)
Hi.

GLEN
Oh. Hi, how y'doing?

NANCY looks out the window and touches her hair.

NANCY
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
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.

EXT. THE VALLEY AND HILLS - NIGHT

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.

EXT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT

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.

INT. POLICE STATION - NIGHT

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.

EXT. ELM STREET - NIGHT

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.

INT. GLEN'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

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 something
'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.

INT. GLEN'S HOUSE/UPSTAIRS CORRIDOR - NIGHT

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
Glen honey?

No answer.

INT. GLEN'S ROOM - NIGHT

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.

INSERT OF CLOCK. It's 11:42.

TIGHT ON GLEN's face. He clamps the earphones back on, and
turns 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:

EXT. ELM STREET/NANCY'S HOUSE - NIGHT

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

CUT TO:

INT. NANCY'S ROOM - NIGHT

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
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
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 little 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.

INT. NANCY'S HOUSE/DOWNSTAIRS - NIGHT

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

ANGLE IN THE LIVING ROOM as she pads through the darkened
house, 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.

EXT. NANCY'S HOUSE AND ELM STREET - NIGHT

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.

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

NANCY pulls down the shade.

GLEN's father grinds the cigarette beneath his shoe.

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 is 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.

INT. NANCY'S ROOM - NIGHT

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.

INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE NANCY'S DOOR

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.

INT. NANCY'S ROOM - NIGHT

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...

INT. GLEN'S ROOM - NIGHT

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

INT. ELM STREET - NIGHT

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

INT. GLEN'S ROOM - NIGHT

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.

INT. NANCY'S ROOM - NIGHT

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

EXT. ELM STREET - NIGHT

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

INT. GLEN'S ROOM - NIGHT

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

INT. NANCY'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

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

INT. GLEN'S ROOM - NIGHT

TIGHT ON PHONE as it begins RINGING loudly.

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

INT. GLEN'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

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
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
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.

INT. NANCY'S ROOM - NIGHT

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.

Yawns. The TELEPHONE RINGS.

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.

REVERSE IN HER POV. THE TELEPHONE RINGS again, despite the
fact that the end of its yanked-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
Hello?

The unmistakable 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
My boyfriend...!

INT. NANCY'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

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 (O.S.)
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
(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:

INT. GLEN'S ROOM - NIGHT

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, unmistakably,
he begins to SNORE. Very faintly, far in the background, we
can hear NANCY.

NANCY (O.S.)
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.

EXT. ELM STREET - NIGHT

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.

INT. NANCY'S ROOM - NIGHT

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.

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

LT THOMPSON is halfway across the living room when he stops.
Something dark and red is welling from a crack in the ceiling.
One of his men is rigging a bucket beneath 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
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, apparently he's dead. How the
hell'd you know?

A tear courses 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
Get outside and watch her house. If
you see anything funny call me.

PARKER
'Anything funny' like what?

THOMPSON shakes his head, embarrassed.

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 against the wall, trapped by her own
resolution. She looks at her watch.

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

INT. GLEN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

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.

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

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
Goddamned if I know.
(tries to straighten)
What's the Coroner say?

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

INT. CELLAR - NIGHT

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.

INT. NANCY'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

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.

INT. NANCY'S UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT

-- 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.

INT. MARGE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

MARGE lies propped in her bed looking back at NANCY. Her
drunkenness 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.

INT. NANCY'S ROOM - NIGHT

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:

INT. GLEN'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

LT THOMPSON trudges down the stairs 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
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 (O.S.)
Lieutenant Thompson. Coroner wants
to show you something.

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

CUT TO:

INT. DOWNSTAIRS - NANCY'S HOUSE - NIGHT

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.

INT. NANCY'S CELLAR - NIGHT

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 unmistakable. 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.

INT. BOILER ROOM

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

She descends 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 descends, 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.

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

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

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.

EXT. THE HEAVENS - NIGHT

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.

EXT. ELM STREET/NANCY'S HOUSE - NIGHT

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:

INT. NANCY'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

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 --

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

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 catapults backwards with
an incredulous shriek, the twenty pound sledge hammer swings
back and reveals to camera just what it is!

ANGLE DOWN ON KRUEGER, clawing 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:

EXT. ELM STREET/NANCY'S HOME - NIGHT

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!?

ANGLE ON the street. PARKER, assigned to guard the house,
sees 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 (O.S.)
You heard what I said! Now get back
inside or I'll tell your dad!

Behind her the DOOR SPLINTERS. NANCY whirls around just in
time 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!

EXT. ELM STREET - NIGHT

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.

INT. MARGE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

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.

INT. UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT

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

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

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
HEELLLPPP!!! Daddyyyyyyy!!!!

KRUEGER, bloody and spewing 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
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.

INT. CELLAR - NIGHT

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?

ON NANCY -- she ducks behind the furnace -- comes out the
other 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.

INT. NANCY'S KITCHEN - NIGHT

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:

INT. GLEN'S UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT

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...

EXT. NANCY'S HOME - NIGHT

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!

ANGLE ON NANCY'S FRONT DOOR. Many MEN batter the door down
as 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.

INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

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
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!

INT. MARGE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

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

REVERSE IN HER POV -- FRED KRUEGER, literally a man of fire,
has 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 fiery 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!

THOMPSON pushes the girl back -- yanks out his .38 and pulls
off 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 (O.S.)
(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.

CLOSER ON NANCY from the direction of the bed. MUSIC SUDDENLY
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 absolutely 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 FLICKERING RATTLE at his side, and he raises the
only thing on him not charred -- the gleaming steel talons.

NANCY simply shakes her head again, as if seeing a light at
the 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:

EXT. ELM STREET - DAY

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
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.

WIDER ON NANCY as she walks to the curb. The whole scene is
wrapped in an unseasonable 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.

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

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.

THE END

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