the better killer

[psifi872]

Tuesday, April 11. 11:30 P.M.

Ellen considered bitterly the irony of shivering. The boiler room was hot and humid. The chains hanging from the ceiling were coated in rust and grime, swaying slightly. Her cotton nightdress clung to her skin with sweat. Yet, Ellen felt almost as if she were freezing, goosebumps standing out on her arms and legs, as a chill crawled over her back.

Terror, she supposed, would do that to you.

Whimpering, Ellen walked slowly up the stairs, hoping to find an exit or a place to hide. She whirled, as metal scraped against metal behind her. A note of protest erupted from her throat. She wasn't alone anymore. A shadowy figure stood next to the boiler, running a glove with knives lovingly over the top, chuckling thickly.

"El-len," it crooned. "Come play with Freddy!"

Ellen shook her head, forcing herself to move up the stairs, but not daring to turn her back on the twisted caricature of evil.

"Leave me alone," she tried to demand, drawing more laughter from Freddy.

"Awwwww. Whatsamatter? Is the piggy scared?"

Freddy winked out of sight and Ellen felt cold metal touch one shoulder and slick flesh the other. Desperate, Ellen flung herself forward, less afraid of the stairs than the monster behind her. She rolled down, managing to avoid hitting her head. Her arms, though, flailed wildly and her elbow came down on the last step with a sickening crunch.

Howling in pain, Ellen woke up. Tearing off her sheet and blanket, Ellen stood frantically, trying to control the ragged sobbing of her breath. Her door banged open, almost closing again, after bouncing off the opposite wall. It was caught and held open.

"Ellen? Are you all right?" her father, Alex, demanded.

"I hurt my arm," Ellen whispered. "I think I broke it."

Thursday, April 13. 12:30 P.M.

Ellen walked carefully, balancing her lunch tray uneasily. It started to slide to the floor, but a quick hand caught it, keeping it steady, as Ellen adjust her grip.

"Here. Let me set my tray down and I'll help you," her foster brother, Cassian, offered, smiling warmly.

"Thanks, Cassian," Ellen agreed wearily.

Cassian set his tray down at a nearby table, then came back for hers. He set it down across from his own and Ellen sat down gratefully.

"Are you okay? I mean..."

"Mm. I know. I am. I think."

"You seem tired."

"Well, emergency rooms aren't really restful. Wanna hear something stupid?"

"Sure."

"I've been having nightmares. In my dream, I flung myself down a flight of stairs. My elbow hit the bottom of the stairs and broke."

"So, that made you fall out of bed and break your arm for real," Cassian concluded, shaking his head. "That sucks, El. I'm sorry."

"Thanks. I got lucky, though. The break is super clean."

"You've had a lot of bad dreams?"

"Yeah, ever since we got that assignment about researching our families. I chose my mom's family and it gets really creepy."

"Creepy how?"

"If I tell you, will you promise not to laugh or tell anyone else? 'Cause, I'm thinking of going with my dad's side of the family, instead."

"I promise," Cassian said, gazing steadily at her, unsmiling.

"My great-grandfather was a serial killer, Freddy Krueger. He killed a bunch of kids, then got murdered by their parents. My grandma didn't know, until she was an adult, even that she was adopted."

"Your parents told you that?" Cassian whispered, shocked.

"Oh, hell no!" Ellen disagreed, laughing. "I was going through stuff in my mom's filing cabinet and found grandma's adoption papers. Then, I did a little internet research."

"Makes sense," Cassian said, shrugging.

"You're not gonna make any stupid jokes or anything, are you?" Ellen asked, swallowing painfully.

"No!" Cassian assured her. "Actually, I get it. You know my dad is in prison. That's why I'm living with your family."

"Yeah, but your dad probably didn't kill anyone."

"Well, not a bunch of kids, but...I think he might have. They won't tell me what he's in jail for and I don't think they'd keep it so secret, if all he did was rob a bank."

"Yeah. Do you think he killed a lot of people?"

"I don't know. I can't picture him killing anyone. He's a great dad."

"I'm sorry. At least my family skeleton is a distant ancestor. I don't have to miss him or anything."

"Sure, but I get you having bad dreams. That's scary stuff."

"Thanks. You haven't visited your dad in a while."

"No, he did something and lost his privileges. I will, though. I'm sure he'll work something out, so I can see him. He's smart and I know he wants to see me."

"I hope you get to see your dad."

"I hope you stop dreaming about Freddy."

"Thanks, Cassian."

Friday, April 14. 2 A.M.

Ellen walked past the boiler, stopping abruptly. Freddy sat, sprawled out on the stairs, right on the step where she had broken her arm.

"Hello, Ellen. It's time we got to know each other better."

"No. This is just a dream."

"Awwww, but you're such a special little piggy," Freddy crooned, leaning forward, his lips spread in a ghastly smile, revealing rotten teeth. "Don't you wanna spend time with grandpa?"

"Y-you were a killer," Ellen accused, barely able to force the words out.

"AM!" Freddy corrected, snarling. "I AM a killer."

Ellen flinched, backing away. Freddy smiled again, a certain sly twist to his lips.

"Don't be afraid, Ellen. We're going to have a lot of fun together. You're going to help Grandpa Freddy with his special work."

"Help you?"

"Mmmmhmmmmm. I can't reach the other piggies. This isn't Elm Street. I can only reach you. But, you can bring them to me," Freddy explained, brandishing his glove knives for her to see, "because you share my blood!"

Freddy emphasized the last word by drawing one of the knives across the palm of his other hand, releasing a spray of blood, wetting the floor. Ellen screamed, as Freddy laughed loudly.

"NOW, let's see who we should play with first," Freddy said, flicking his tongue rapidly.

A huge television appeared next to Ellen, showing her sitting outside the school, with some of her friends. Ellen whimpered, watching herself laugh with Laura, Jess, and Gabby. Freddy made a pleased sound from deep in his chest and the television zoomed in, focusing on Gabby.

"NO! Leave Gabby alone," Ellen said, glancing rapidly back and forth between Freddy and the television.

"Aww, don't fret, piggy," Freddy said, chuckling, as he reached into the television. "I just wanna say hi!"

Freddy grabbed Gabby's hair, pulling her kicking and screaming into the boiler room.

"No, no," Ellen screamed, rushing forward.

"Wake up, brat!" Freddy commanded, flicking his glove at Ellen in contempt.

Ellen started awake, screaming and crying. Jenna, her mom, was sitting next to her, holding her shoulders.

"Ellen!" Jenna cried out. "It's just a dream, baby, wake up."

"I'm awake," Ellen whispered. "Gabby..."

"What about Gabby, baby?"

"He has her. Freddy has Gabby."

"Freddy? Freddy who?"

"Freddy Krueger."

"Honey. Freddy Krueger has been dead for decades," Jenna reminded her gently. "He can't hurt you or anyone."

"My arm..."

"You broke your arm by falling out of bed. It was just an accident. Now, close your eyes."

"I don't wanna sleep."

"Ellen. Baby. It's the middle of the night."

Ellen whimpered, starting to cry. Jenna sighed, shifting around so she was stretched out next to Ellen, leaning against her headboard. Looking around, Jenna noted with saddened amusement that all the cheerful creams and greens that colored Ellen's room had turned gray and black in the dark. Jenna pulled Ellen close, cradling her as if she were a smaller child.

"It's all right. I'll stay right here, until you're asleep again. I'm right here, baby."

Friday, April 14. 10 A.M.

Ellen walked slowly into the principal's office. Her mom sat in one of the chairs in front of Principal Hayworth's desk, looking pale.

"Ellen, please sit down," Hayworth said, kindly.

"What's wrong?" Ellen asked, trembling, even as she obeyed.

"Oh, baby. There's no easy way to say this," Jenna told her, her eyes wet. "Baby, Gabby died last night."

"She was killed?" Ellen shrieked, her breath becoming sobs.

"She died of an aneurysm in her brain," Hayworth said, stunned. "What made you think that?"

"She's been having nightmares, lately," Jenna explained, reproachfully. "But, baby, the principal is right. Gabby died of natural causes. Something just went wrong in her brain."

"No. No," Ellen denied, weeping and shaking her head. "She's my age. We don't just die. Not like old people."

"I wish that was true," Hayworth said. "Take a few minutes..."

"I'm taking her home," Jenna said, sharply. "You can't expect her to just suck it up and go back to class."

"Uh, yes, of course," Hayworth conceded. "I'm very sorry."

Friday, still the 14th. 4 P.M.

Ellen looked up, flinching as footsteps came up behind her. Cassian stared down at her, smiling sadly.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you."

"Hi, Cassian."

Cassian sat next to her, opening his mouth, then closing it with a shake of his head.

"It's okay. You don't have to say anything. I know you're sorry. Everyone is."

"Are you okay?"

"No."

"She was one of your best friends."

"It's not just that. Do you think it's true? That you can be crazy, like, really crazy, and no one around you notice?"

"I guess so, if you work hard at hiding it."

"What if you're not trying to hide it? What if you think you're sane, too, but you're not?"

"Well, if you think you're not crazy and no one else does either, what's to say you are?"

"I think Gabby was murdered."

Cassian blinked.

"I thought she died of a stroke?"

"Hayworth said aneurysm. But, he's wrong. I dreamed about her death last night. Just like I dreamed about breaking my arm."

"That's not possible. You can't dream someone to death. Maybe some part of you, some primal part, recognized that she was sick and in danger."

"I'm not saying I killed her by dreaming about it. Not exactly. I think..."

"What? It's okay. We're just talking."

"In my dream, Freddy used me to bring Gabby into the dream. He said I could bring people to him."

"You think your great-grandfather killed Gabby?" Cassian asked, carefully.

"Stupid and crazy," Ellen scoffed. "I know, okay?"

"Not stupid," Cassian objected, strongly. "Crazy, sure, but not stupid."

"Still crazy."

Cassian sighed, not speaking for a few moments, considering.

"The idea is crazy, but maybe you're allowed to be, for a bit. You broke your arm, your friend died, and you've been having awful dreams. I think you're allowed to be a bit crazy. Anyway, life is crazy sometimes."

"Do you think I could be right?"

"Honestly, no. I don't want the world to be that messed up."

"The world's messed up either way. Gabby is still dead."

Ellen made a small, choking sound and Cassian scooted closer, placing his arm around her shoulder.

"Tell me something good," she pleaded.

"I'm getting to see my dad next weekend," Cassian said, unable to hide his happiness.

"Good," Ellen said, trying to smile.

Monday, April 17. 10 P.M.

Ellen whimpered, looking around the boiler room. She hadn't had this dream, since Gabby's death. She'd hoped it was over.

"Elll-en," Freddy crooned, appearing out of the shadows and flames, chuckling wetly. "Time to play, sweetie. Come on. Gabby made me stronger, so now we can start to really play!"

"No. No more. It's not fair! You're dead. You're not supposed to hurt people, if you're dead."

"HA! Says who? I'm just getting started! But, we need more playmates, more piggies! Come on, Ellen. Show me who you got!"

"NO! I DON'T WANT TO!" Ellen screamed, turning and running.

"ELLEN!" Freddy boomed, his voice echoing towards her, as if from a long distance.

Ellen panted, not slowing down, but running hard to get away. She shrieked, as Freddy appeared in front of her, skidding to a stop. She missed him by inches.

"Hey," Freddy said, casually, as if having a sudden idea. "Let's have an assembly!"

The boiler room faded and Ellen found herself standing on the school's theater stage. The bleachers were full of students, some she had never spoken to, but only passed in the halls. Ellen shivered. The students' skin and clothes were faded and gray looking, as if they were from a bad photograph. They stared at the stage with somber expressions and empty eyes.

Ellen stood to one side of the stage. In the center, a small group of children, boys and girls dressed all in white, played hopscotch.

"One, two, Freddy's coming for you,
Three, four, better lock your door,
Five, six, grab your crucifix,
Seven, eight, better stay up late,
Nine, ten, never sleep again," they sang, in eerie, cheerful voices.

As they sang, certain students were suddenly lit by spotlights, some color returning to them. Ellen's friends, Karen, Jessie, Michael, Anna, and Cassian began looking around, confused.

"No, no, no," Ellen chanted, desperately. "Wake up! Guys! Wake up, now!"

Cassian focussed on her, frowning.

"Ellen?"

"One piggy at a time, please," Freddy crooned, clicking his glove's fingers together. "Oh, Ellen. We're going to have so much fun!"

Karen and Michael faded away, while Jessie and Anna huddled together, whimpering in fear.

"Cassian, it's my nightmare!" Ellen warned. "Run!"

"You can run, but you can't hide," Freddy teased, as heavy iron bars crashed down over the doors and windows.

Chains appeared on the children's ankles. Darting forward, Ellen back-handed Cassian sharply, sobbing in relief as he faded away.

"Naughty brat," Freddy snarled, grabbing Ellen by the back of her nightdress and throwing her into Jessie and Anna.

Ellen came awake, wincing at the pain in her neck and back. She flinched, as her door swung open.

"Ellen?" Cassian asked, coming in and sitting on her bed.

"I had another nightmare. Freddy was picking friends of mine. You were there. We were at school and..."

"And Freddy was holding an assembly from hell. There were these weird kids on the stage, singing a nursery rhyme."

Ellen whimpered, nodding.

"You dreamed that too? Is that a real thing? Can people share dreams?"

"No, I don't think that's supposed to be possible. Tell me a line or two from the rhyme."

"One, two, Freddy's coming for you, three, four, better lock your door..."

"Five, six, grab your crucifix, seven, eight, better stay up late..."

"Nine, ten, never sleep again. Sounds like good advice to me!"

"We'll die, eventually, if we don't sleep."

"Or we fall asleep and Freddy kills us."

"Yeah. Your grandfather sucks."

"What do we do? Adults aren't going to believe us!"

"I don't know. Take turns sleeping? One person sleeps and the other person wakes them up, if they start dreaming badly. At least, until we figure something out."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," Cassian admitted, sadly, shrugging helplessly. "I mean, he's basically a ghost, right? There's gotta be a way to exorcise him."

"I guess so."

Saturday, April 22. 1 p.m.

"Dad!" Cassian exclaimed happily, throwing himself into Murdoc's arms. Murdoc hugged his son, ruffling his hair.

"How are you doing, buddy?" Murdoc asked.

"I'm okay," Cassian lied, making Murdoc frown.

"You don't look okay. Are you feeling all right?"

Cassian grimaced. He knew better than to lie to his dad. It never worked and Cassian knew he looked rough. Sleeping only every other night was harder than it sounded.

"I haven't been sleeping well," Cassian admitted.

"Come sit down and talk to me. How's your surrogate family?"

"They're great. This isn't their fault..." Cassian protested, obeying and sitting down in the chair provided for him.

"What isn't?" Murdoc asked, fighting to keep his tone gentle.

"Dad...do you believe in ghosts?"

Murdoc blinked, a bit surprised at the change in subject, but shrugged.

"I don't disbelieve in them. I've never encountered one, but I've seen enough of this world to know it can be strange and we humans don't know as much as we think we do."

"If ghosts do exist, do you think they could hurt living people? Maybe even kill them?"

"Well. I don't know," Murdoc mused, shrugging. "Ghosts are just dead people. I don't see why someone who never killed, when alive, would suddenly kill, when they're dead."

"What if they did kill, when they were alive?"

"Are we talking about anyone in particular?" Murdoc asked, confused and wary.

"Well, someone like...Freddy Krueger. For instance. Do you know who that is?"

"Yeah, I'm familiar with that little piece of history. I'm wondering why you are. That's pretty rough stuff, buddy."

"He's Aunt Jenna's grandfather. Her mom was adopted, when Krueger was killed."

"You were placed with the granddaughter of a serial killer?" Murdoc asked, his voice rising against his will.

"It's not her fault!" Cassian defended, frowning.

"No, no, it's just...ironic," Murdoc said, forcing his tone to even out.

"You killed someone, didn't you?" Cassian asked, sadly.

Murdoc stared silently at him, his eyes wide and glittering, his face taut.

"Never mind," Cassian assured him. "I don't really want to know."

"Cassian, my crimes...look, we can discuss that later, if you really need to. Right now, though, I want to know what's going on."

"Okay, but you're going to think I'm crazy."

"Well, I actually am crazy. That's now official, so spill the beans, kiddo."

"Ellen and me have been having crazy dreams about Krueger. Like, once or twice, we both dreamed the exact same thing. And recently, she dreamt one of her friends died and it turns out she really did."

Murdoc stiffened, feeling a spike of cold in his chest. He experienced intense emotions only rarely and it always amazed him how painful they were. Honestly, he just didn't understand why people thought emotions were good things!

"A kid you know died?"

"Yeah. Everyone says it was an aneurysm, but..."

"You think it was Freddy."

"I know that's dumb, Dad, I really do!" Cassian pleaded. "I mean, I don't get why he killed when he was alive. Why would he as a ghost?"

"Men like Krueger feed on fear. It's their drug. It makes them feel special and important."

"I am scared, though. I can't just not be. He's horrible, Daddy...mean and burned, with that awful glove..."

"You both had the same dream?"

"Yeah, exactly the same. Well, we did once or twice. We're never asleep at the same time anymore."

Murdoc's eyes squeezed shut, as he realized what that meant.

"You're taking turns sleeping and waking each other up?"

"We couldn't think of anything else. How do you get rid of a ghost?"

"There's a way," Murdoc assured him, firmly. "Listen to me, buddy. I want you to look at me."

Murdoc knelt in front of Cassian, staring deeply into his son's weary gaze.

"If Krueger is real, he can be beaten. Destroyed. I promise you that."

"But, he's not human. Not anymore."

"He started that way, though. Think about it. Have you ever heard of a monster that didn't have an Achilles heel? Most of them can be taken out with fire, according to the old tales. Krueger has a weakness. We just have to find it."

"So, you believe me?" Cassian asked, eyes wide, somewhere between disbelief and hope.

"I know you're not lying and you're a smart kid. You wouldn't believe this, without good reasons."

"What do I do?"

"Hang in there. Buy me some time. Hopefully, it won't take me too long to figure something out."

Sunday. April 23rd. 3 p.m.

Riley sat down in the visitor's chair across from Murdoc, frowning severely. The maniac smiled at her, looking pleased as punch.

"Okay, I'm here. What do you want, Murdoc?"

"It's always good to see you, dear Riley. I want to do a little exchange of favors, of course. I need you to do some research for me."

"What kind of research?"

Murdoc sighed, leaning back in his chair.

"I want you to investigate a man named Freddy Krueger..."

"The serial killer? Hell, Murdoc, that sicko's been explored on every true-crime drama ever."

"Yes, but it's not his life that I want information on. I want information on the aftermath of his death. What happened to the people that killed him? Anything strange?"

"Strange how?"

"Unusual deaths...especially if anyone connected to him, in any way, died in their sleep."

"Dying in your sleep isn't all that unusual, Murdoc. What exactly do you want me to find?" Riley pressed, annoyed.

"I don't know!" Murdoc snapped, barely keeping himself from screaming at her. "Anything. Everything. I don't know what the information I need will look like."

Riley leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest and shaking her head.

"Why?"

"Because, if you do this for me, I'll give you some juicy secrets about Codex that the Organization is keeping."

"More bank account numbers?" Riley asked, dryly.

Murdoc leaned forward, smirking.

"That bank account number led you to your mole, yes? However, what I will give you for this is far more substantial."

"You must want this information pretty badly."

"Oh, I do, yes," Murdoc agreed, then sighed again, shrugging in exasperation. "It's about Cassian. I'm trying to protect him."

"From what?" Riley asked, allowing a bit of concern to surface.

"Well, that, dear Riley, is what you're going to find out for me."

"Yeah, but...Krueger is dead."

"Burned alive by the parents of his victims," Murdoc recited. "But, I just suspect that isn't the actual end of the story. Especially let me know, if you find out any weird information connecting him and dreams."

"Dreams."

"Mmhmm."

"You're nuts, Murdoc."

"That is a very well-established fact, dear Riley. Do we have a deal?"

"Yeah, fine," Riley agreed, shrugging and standing. "One portfolio of a very dead killer coming right up."

"Thank you."

Riley blinked, Murdoc's sincerity throwing her off balance. She gave a slight nod and strode away, hoping Murdoc really was just being crazy and not plotting something.

Wednesday. April 26th. 2 p.m.

Murdoc picked up the cell phone that had been pushed to him through his food slot. He started to say hello, but recognized the sound of his son, crying.

"Cassian, what's wrong?" Murdoc asked, pushing away the creeping dread that made his skin crawl.

"Michael is dead," Cassian sobbed. "He was...they're trying to say it was suicide, but that just...Daddy, Krueger killed him! It had to be Krueger!"

"Cassian, take a deep breath and let it out slowly..."

"I can't! Krueger killed Michael!" Cassian all but screamed into the phone.

"Yes, you can," Murdoc said firmly. "We need to talk and we can't with you like this. Now take that breath."

He listened as Cassian all but swallowed a huge gulp of breath, then released it.

"Now. What happened to Michael?"

"He...he fell off the roof of his house."

"Why are you so sure it wasn't a suicide?"

"I knew Michael, Dad," Cassian said reproachfully. "Anyways, I mean, yes, his house is two-story, but simply falling like that...he was too banged up. It wasn't just a broken neck or something. All of his bones were broken. It was like he'd fallen off a cliff. They're gonna have to have a closed casket funeral."

"And the adults there told you that?" Murdoc asked, furious.

"Well, no. Michael's older brother did. He...Michael told him about the dreams and seeing us in them. Josh feels awful, because he didn't believe Michael."

"Cassian...buddy, I need you to hang on. I have someone looking into this for me, but there's nothing I can do, until I get more information."

"I know, but...Dad. Michael didn't. He just didn't."

"I know. I know you're scared, but I'm going to protect you, buddy. I just need a little more time."

"Yeah. I just wanted you to know. I gotta go. Aunt Jenna is taking us home."

"You're still at school?"

"Yeah. I told them I needed to use the bathroom."

"Okay. Well, you go back, now. Be as careful as you can."

"I will. I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too, son," Murdoc assured him, still surprised at how easily the words came, true as they were.

Murdoc hung up and dialed Riley.

"Hello?"

"Riley. How is the research coming?"

"How did you get a phone?"

"I have phone privileges, occasionally. Cassian called me a few minutes ago."

"Yeah, we heard about his friend. Matty is actually on her way to see you."

"Oh. Excellent. Then I'll return this to the guard."

"She'll be there in twenty."

Murdoc waited impatiently, barely keeping himself from fidgeting in his chair. Matty came in and Murdoc couldn't help beaming with pleasure. MacGyver was with her.

"Boyscout! What a pleasant surprise!"

"Murdoc," MacGyver greeted gravely, as he and Matty sat down in front of Murdoc.

"I think I have what you were looking for," Matty announced, shoving a thick file across the table to Murdoc. "For a dead man, Krueger gets blamed for a lot of death and Springwood is officially the weirdest place I've ever heard of."

"Why is that?"

"The teenage death rate is about five times higher than anywhere else in the U.S.," MacGyver answered. "And a lot of those...well, suicide seems to be the default explanation for anything that defies explanation."

"Yeah, teens have been dying, in and out of institutions, mental hospitals mainly, for decades, starting with every single child of the people suspected of killing Krueger," Matty added. "And, every single one that was hospitalized complained about nightmares."

"After his death?" Murdoc prodded.

"Yes. A few of his suspected killers died, too. Murdered."

"Krueger's body was found about fifteen years ago, in a junkyard," MacGyver said, shrugging.

"So, you don't think it's him," Murdoc concluded, shrugging.

MacGyver and Matty exchanged a long glance, before Matty cleared her throat, while MacGyver picked at the fabric covering his knee.

"Like I said, a lot of teenagers ended up in institutions and, as teenagers do, a lot of them kept journals...including Nancy Thompson, whose father was the officer who arrested Krueger. She talks about him stalking her in her dreams. About ten years after Krueger's death, when Nancy was in high school, a bunch of teens in Springwood died...including Nancy's boyfriend, Glen."

"There's photos in there of the crime scene," MacGyver added.

Murdoc found the relevant photos and blinked in pure astonishment.

"What? The kid went to sleep with farm equipment?"

"Except none was found. Nothing was found. No explanation was ever given."

"Teenage deaths seemed to come in waves," Matty continued. "Officially...the explanations are actually pretty weak. The local authorities insist the deaths aren't connected, despite the similarities."

"Perfect," Murdoc drawled, dropping the photos, huffily.

"It gets weirder," MacGyver said, shifting in discomfort. "Nancy's mother died the same night as Glen. Her father investigated and found Krueger's hat and gloves, hidden in her basement."

"Her basement?"

"The Thompsons were divorced. Springwood also has a very high divorce rate."

"Ooo, the killer's killers kept trophies!" Murdoc quipped, amused.

"Maybe," Matty admitted, "but that's not what Nancy said."

"Oh?"

"Well, first off, it's a fedora. There's no way it could have survived the fire that killed Krueger. The newspaper reports made a pretty big deal about the intensity of the blaze. And, Nancy claimed in her journal that she brought Krueger's hat out from her dream. She grabbed it off his head, just as she woke up."

"Any chance I can talk to her?" Murdoc asked eagerly.

"No, because she's dead. She was killed at the asylum where she was working, when another batch of teenagers was dying. But, the hat, according to her journal, is what finally convinced her that her nightmares were real."

"So, supposedly, a bunch of teenagers believe Krueger can come back and kill them in their dreams?"

"That's the urban legend, yes."

"Hm. What happened to the hat?"

Matty reached into her duffel bag and pulled out Freddy's hat.

"We confiscated it from the Springwood Police Department," MacGyver admitted.

"Is that legal?" Murdoc asked, amused.

"I pulled some strings," Matty admitted, shrugging.

"The rules in this place are so strict," Murdoc lamented. "I'd love to see you try and burn that thing."

"It's just a hat," MacGyver assured Murdoc, taking out his swiss army knife and piercing the brim of the hat, which took it passively.

"Oh, so you do realize that can be a weapon!" Murdoc cried out, delighted.

"Don't get your hopes up," MacGyver advised him, drily.

"Spoilsport. So, are you going to get me out of here?"

"Why?" Matty asked, a bit gently. "Even if we did, this guy's still a ghost, Murdoc. How do you kill a dream?"

"By making it as real as that hat. I bring him out of the dream, into reality, and kill him here. Ah well. I didn't think you'd go for it, but figured I'd ask."

"One hundred and four," MacGyver announced, cryptically.

"Meaning what?"

"That's the minimum amount of lives destroyed, directly and indirectly, by Freddy Krueger," MacGyver explained grimly. "Drug and alcohol abuse are also very high in Springwood."

"So, you are going to get me out?" Murdoc asked, blinking, then narrowing his eyes, his gaze sharpening. "Why?"

"Because Krueger is a problem and we need someone to finish him."

"And, you don't want the intelligence community to think you've gone insane, chasing after a ghost," Murdoc finished, chuckling.

"A problem we don't have with you. However, I'm not totally on board with your kill plan," Matty said, a bit sharply. "For one thing, Nancy tried that already."

"What happened?"

"She wrote in her journal, after her mom died, that she succeeded in bringing Krueger out of the dream world, then she robbed him of his power, by turning her back on him."

Murdoc sat back, his mouth slightly open and working ever so slightly.

"I'm sorry, Matilda, but she did what now?"

"It's a Balinese dream theory. You turn your back on the monster in your dreams and steal its power."

"She turned her back on someone trying to kill her."

"Well, it's a bit more complicated than that, but yes," Matty agreed, shrugging.

Murdoc leaned forward, folding his hands together.

"I promise you, Matilda, I am not going to turn my back on Freddy Krueger. I will be looking right at him, as I fill him with bullets."

"You have to get him out of the dream world, first," MacGyver reminded him, rolling his eyes. "And, from what we've learned, Freddy can't get to you, so you can't get to him."

"Yes, which means we need bait."

"Jenna can do it," Murdoc said, smiling. "You know. The granddaughter of a serial killer that you left my son with."

"Jenna is a good, loving person," Matty said, flatly, staring hard at him. "And, her husband is my cousin. I put Cassian with the best family I could find."

"Oh. Really?" Murdoc asked, intrigued.

"Yes, really. Did you expect me to predict something like Krueger?"

"Mmm, probably not," he conceded. "But, we still need someone to drag Krueger into reality."

"We'll talk to Jenna about it," Matty promised.

Wednesday. April 26th. 7:21 P.M.

Jenna stared at the convict Matty had brought into her home, before leaving on a mysterious errand. Murdoc sat on the other side of her dining table, dark eyes shining coldly, with a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. He was a handsome man, but even that only made him seem more uncanny. Murdoc stared steadily at her, making her feel like a mouse confronting a snake. This was Cassian's father? That wonderful boy came from this?

"I really don't know about all this. It's insane!" Jenna protested.

"Yes, well, I'm sorry to disrupt your neat, little life, but knock, knock!" Murdoc said, his tone light and cutting. "It's the real world calling and the real world, Jenna darling, is dark, dangerous, and strange."

"That's not news to me," Jenna told him, flatly, her mouth tightening.

"Murdoc, play nice," Macgyver ordered. "Jenna, I know how this sounds, but I saw Michael's body and... something is going on here. I promised Murdoc I would protect Cassian and I'm making you the same promise about Ellen."

"I don't really know what you want me to do."

"Go to sleep, dream, and find Krueger," Murdoc explained, slowly.

"I know about lucid dreaming, but I've never done it!"

"Hopefully, that won't matter," MacGyver said kindly. "You're his granddaughter. If he knows you're looking for him, he'll find you. That's what we need to find out."

"Dad!"

Everyone turned, as Cassian burst into the dining room, followed closely by Ellen.

"This is your dad?" Ellen asked, studying Murdoc with open curiosity, as Cassian flung his arms around his dad's neck.

"I am and you must be Ellen," Murdoc greeted, his tone softening, placing an arm around his son's shoulders.

"Don't frighten her," Jenna warned, wincing, when Cassian gave her a look of hurt reproach.

Murdoc just tilted his head to one side, as if not comprehending why Jenna would be worried.

"I'm not afraid of him, Mom. Everyone else seems tame compared to Freddy. I wish someone would make him afraid for once."

"Well, it so happens that's why I'm here," Murdoc assured her. "I'm going to stop him."

"How? He's a ghost," Cassian reminded him.

"Only in the dream world, I think..."

"Murdoc!" MacGyver said, sharply, shaking his head.

"Let him talk," Ellen said, glaring. "No one believes me anyway."

"Ellen, baby, we just..."

"You've been let down," Murdoc interrupted, his voice smooth, but not soothing. "And, you and Cassian have been very brave. But, dealing with Freddy is not your job."

"Because we're children," Ellen clarified, bitterly.

"Because I have a specific skill set that this situation needs. There's nothing wrong with needing help, Ellen. Some very powerful people have hired me to take care of things they couldn't."

"We couldn't figure out a way to stop him," Ellen admitted, her breath becoming uneven, as she held back tears.

"Yes, well, to be fair, Freddy is a very remarkable problem. The good news is we do have a plan."

"I'm going to help," Ellen insisted.

"You are going to stay awake," Murdoc countered, smiling. "I need Freddy's attention on your mother."

"M-mom?"

Ellen stared at her mom, worry and grief adding unnatural lines of age to her young face. Jenna forced herself to smile calmly, nodding.

"It's okay, baby. We just want to try an experiment."

"Speaking of experiments, I have something that will let the children sleep safely."

Matty came in the door, waving a white bag.

"Then all of this isn't necessary?" Jenna asked, hopefully.

"It's very necessary," Matty retorted, frowning. "I managed to get hold of a dream suppressant called hypnocil. It is not recommended for long-term use."

"A drug? Matty..."

"Jenna. Until Krueger is dealt with, it's the only way we can know the children are safe."

"Do you approve of this?" Jenna asked Murdoc, hoping for even an unlikely ally.

"I trust Matty," Murdoc said simply, shrugging.

"Thank you, Murdoc. Jenna?"

Jenna grimaced, but nodded.

"Good."

Same night. 11:31 p.m.

Jenna dreamed of floating down a dark stream, in a tunnel. Spots of light came and went, but Jenna was almost as afraid of them, as she was of the dark. She was supposed to be looking for something, but she couldn't remember what.

"Jeeennnnaaaa..." a gravelly voice sang from the air, not seeming to have a source, taunting her.

Jenna stood up in the stream, looking around her wildly. The water suddenly stank and she carefully didn't examine the sudden debris she could feel brushing past her. The dream gained a clarity Jenna found repulsive. Shivering, despite the damp heat, Jenna walked to one side of the stream. The shore grew wider the closer Jenna got to it. As she climbed onto the shore, the stream disappeared. A few more paces and Jenna found herself surrounded by concrete and metal. A hissing boiler loomed on one side of the room.

"What do you want, bitch?" the gravelly voice demanded, contemptuously.

Jenna whirled, shocked and afraid to find herself facing her notorious ancestor. She thought of Ellen, facing this figure, night after night.

"I...I needed to know, if you're real. Ellen..."

"Tsk, tsk, it's not nice to tell lies, little girl," Freddy scolded, smirking. "Ellen didn't send you to me."

Jenna tried not to think about Murdoc, fairly certain the killer wanted his presence to remain a secret.

"Pretty clever, bringing a killer to deal with me," Freddy crooned, dashing that hope. "It won't WORk!"

He ended on a shout, darting forward and dragging Jenna close. He held up his glove, the tips of his knives hovering above her eyes.

"He doesn't have power. I do," Freddy hissed. "I can't BE killed."

Jenna whimpered, wishing Murdoc was here, instead of her. Freddy had to be wrong, right? Matty wouldn't have brought that awful man to her house, her home, if he couldn't help! She thought of Murdoc's cold, calm eyes and felt a tugging sensation.

"I'm not sure this is what people mean, when they talk about family moments," Murdoc mused, his incisive voice cutting through the tension.

He strolled around the boiler room, examining its shadows and corners, amusement tilting the edges of his mouth. Freddy gave a low snarl, shoving Jenna away and taking a step closer to the intruder. Murdoc turned, eyebrows raised.

"Sorry. Did I interrupt?" he asked, unrepentantly, walking closer to Jenna, making a shooing motion with his hand. "I think you can wake up now, thanks."

Jenna nodded, reminding herself that, in the end, this was a dream. With a jerk, her breathing harsh, she came awake, leaving the killers alone.

Freddy smirked, clicking his finger knives together. The intruder...Murdoc? He really called himself that?! Murdoc just stood there, that repulsive smile on his mouth, fueling Freddy's rage.

"Why are you here? You fucking my bitch grand-daughter?"

"Ew," Murdoc laughed, shaking his head. "No offense, but she's not my type."

"She's boring," Freddy conceded. "So? You just here for a tour?"

"Well. I mean, the nightmare thing is a bit impressive, honestly. As hideouts go, this one is a winner! But, no."

"You think you can stop me," Freddy guessed, snickering.

"Mm," Murdoc hummed, non-committedly. "I certainly intend to try."

"Why bother? You're a killer, too. You know what it's like. Maybe we could team up."

"Why bother? Neither of us has anything the other needs. And, neither is stupid enough to trust the other."

Freddy glared, disappointed that Murdoc couldn't be toyed with. Still, he was just a man.
Freddy reached into Murdoc's mind, looking for his fears, his passions, his weaknesses.

He failed and was almost impressed. Very few adults had ever made their way into Freddy's nightmare. Their minds had been bright and layered, full of passions, motives, emotions, dark secrets, and juicy fears. Murdoc's mind was cold and twisted, his emotions dull. There was a disappointing lack of fear, a blasé acceptance of mortality, both Murdoc's own and others'. Freddy ground his teeth, digging deeper, but with no luck. Murdoc's mind was deliciously dark, but Murdoc didn't keep secrets.

He wore his bloodlust on his sleeve.

Murdoc wanted to kill Freddy.

Impossible, of course, but it made Freddy uneasy. Murdoc actively wanted to kill Freddy. It wasn't merely a matter of necessity, of protecting himself or some child. Everyone else who had ever fought Freddy had felt a hesitation, a revulsion at the deed. Some human part of them had rebelled at the thought of destroying any remaining humanity that existed in Freddy. That always made Freddy laugh with delight. He'd stopped being human, long before his own first kill. Murdoc was different and Freddy felt a chill rage at this other predator invading his home.

"Assassin, huh? Fancy. Whatever she's paying you, it isn't enough!" Freddy warned, chuckling wetly and waving his glove in a threatening arc.

"Assassin, yes, but I'm not getting paid for this, Freddy. I'm quite happy to take you out for free."

"Even if you live, you can't harm me! NOTHING can harm me."

"Well, that's what makes it fun, isn't it? Two killers squaring off, death inevitable," Murdoc coaxed.

"Okay, let's have some FUN!"

Freddy charged forward, using the dream to propel himself with inhuman speed at his victim. But, he was used to terrified children. Murdoc didn't cower or duck aside. He stood his ground, grabbing Freddy right before he struck. Heaving, Murdoc flung Freddy back across the room.

"So, other than the kill, what's in this for you? You some sort of danger junkie? Killing live people getting boring?"

"A bit, maybe. Mostly, you're...repulsive," Murdoc announced cheerfully. "And, you're not the first criminal garbage I've disposed of."

"And, you think you're what?" Freddy scoffed, angrily.

"Somewhat hypocritical," Murdoc admitted lightly, smiling.

"WHY ARE YOU HERE?!" Freddy bellowed, then gave a sudden hiss of satisfaction. "Oohhh. So, that's it. You're a piggy's daddy!"

"Cassian, yes. Your granddaughter has the privilege of raising my son."

"Some killer you are. You know the taste of blood and death, but you're wasting time protecting some brat!"

"Ahhh, nihilism. Trite," Murdoc huffed, bored. "You're really not anything unusual. Well, not until after you died. I mean, come on, preying on kiddies? What's special about that? You destroyed a few families and drove up some local statistics. In a rinky-dink little town, full of rinky-dink little people, before being taken down by the local constabulary."

"You think that's all I've done? I made myself immortal! I took death and pain and turned it into a meal! And you think you're better than me?"

Freddy threw back his head and laughed in pure contempt.

"I am better than you," Murdoc agreed, smirking. "You spent your time tormenting children in an otherwise unremarkable town. I've spent mine shaping international politics and helping criminal organizations weed out their weaker branches. My work has influenced nations. You're just so...small town."

"Nations. Who cares about that shit? I'm eternal and I'm gonna gut you. Fat lot of good your politics will do you, then."

"No," Murdoc disagreed, chuckling. "You won't kill me, because you need me to be afraid, first. Murder with no terror? You don't want that."

Freddy hissed, worried that Murdoc understood that. He needed his victims to be afraid. A large part of Freddy's power came from generating fear. Without that fear, there was no bond and Freddy couldn't feed as deeply.

"I can MAKE you afraid," Freddy boasted, "I know every dark and bloody thought that happens here!"

The boiler room disappeared, morphing into a small bedroom. The furniture was sturdy and fairly new, but plain. The blankets and sheets were plain green and blue and only a few toys could be seen sitting on a shelf. A full-length mirror Murdoc was fairly certain he hadn't actually owned reflected an image of Murdoc as a small child.

"Wow. Cassian really does look a lot like me."

"DENNIS! ARE YOU DOING YOUR HOMEWORK?" a sharp voice bellowed, just outside the door.

Murdoc sighed.

"Oh, no, not my childhood traumas!" Murdoc gasped, mockingly.

An image of Murdoc's dad stopped in the doorway, his hand still on the door. Murdoc studied the image. His father's image was dressed in crisp blue jeans and a light, button-up shirt. A slack, paisley tie hung loosely around his neck. He was an inch or two shorter than Murdoc, with watery eyes and slumped shoulders. Freddy studied Murdoc, disgusted by the unnatural calm on his childish face.

"He's really not very imposing is he?" Murdoc mused, chuckling. "A face only a child could fear. Heh. Really, Freddy, I hope you can do better than that."

The bedroom burst into flames. Freddy studied Murdoc, back in his adult form, certain the flames would instill terror in his opponent. Who didn't fear fire? Murdoc just studied the flames with fatalistic fascination, preparing to force himself awake. Freddy transformed the flames into the sweaty heat of the boiler room. He wasn't letting this pig go, until he found his fears!

"How about this?" Freddy asked, making a cascade of body parts fall from the ceiling in a gory mess.

Murdoc lifted his arms, carefully keeping Freddy in view. The flood of rotting flesh was short-lived and he shook his shoulders, making sure nothing was clinging to him.

"Oh, come on, Freddy. I've waded through battlefields. A bit of meat isn't going to frighten me."

"You might not be afraid for yourself, but how about Cassian? How about I make him next?"

Murdoc blew out a laugh, shaking his head and staring intently into Krueger's eyes. He almost seemed happy, but Krueger could read the tension in the man's shoulders and stance, could interpret the emptiness of everything burned away by fury.

"I'm not afraid for my son, because I can protect him," Murdoc said softly, his voice just above a whisper. "You're a bit slow, Freddy. Let me spell it out. You're not the hunter this time. I am."

"Go on, then! Do your worst!"

Freddy smirked, crossing his arms over his chest, the knives on his glove tapping against his arm. Murdoc just smiled, almost mildly, shaking his head.

"Not yet. Tomorrow night, Freddy, one of us will die."

Fear or no fear, Freddy shot a metal spike up from the floor to skewer Murdoc, but Murdoc was already gone, back to the waking world.

"Murdoc! Murdoc, wake up!" Matty commanded, shaking him.

Murdoc reared up, forcing Matty to back away. He took a deep breath, then laughed.

"What happened?"

"I pissed off Jenna's grandfather."

"You're bleeding, Murdoc," Matty told him, a note of concern breaking free from her control.

Murdoc looked down at himself and saw a small cut on his inner thigh, just above his knee.

"Ooops. That was a bit close."

"Murdoc. What. HAPPENED?"

"Jenna can get to Freddy. She pulled me into her dream, somehow, so I took the unexpected opportunity to have a little chat with him. Know thy enemy and all that."

"Did you learn anything useful from this 'little chat?'"

"No, just that Freddy and I despise each other, but that's hardly surprising."

"No, it isn't. Go bandage yourself up."

Murdoc obeyed, cleaning the cut and placing a band-aid over it. He came back to the living room, sitting on the couch, where he had been sleeping. Matty sat next to him, leaving a wide gap between them.

"I've already given Jenna some hypnocil. She's sleeping again. Do you want some?"

"No, I've slept enough. Save it for the children. Matty, why am I here? You're a decent enough shot."

"Not as good as you, though. Bringing you in does increase the chances of mission success. I'm needed for other things."

"Nurse-maiding Jenna?"

"Okay, spill it. Why don't you like her?"

"I'm a sociopath. I don't like people in general."

"This is more than that."

Murdoc shrugged elaborately.

"Fine. She's..." Murdoc trailed off, frowning.

"Freddy's granddaughter?"

"No. Utterly unimaginative. She never even considered the idea that Freddy was real."

"You said yourself the situation is remarkable."

"Yes, but I didn't completely dismiss my son's story, because of it."

"Oh, so it's her sanity you don't like."

"Yes!" Murdoc agreed, giving his widest, creepy grin.

"You really aren't good at making friends."

"True, but then she isn't the one I want to be friends with."

"Stop killing my employees," Matty suggested, pointedly.

Murdoc rolled his eyes, shrugging sharply.

"I was doing my job," he pronounced slowly.

"No one paid you to kill Jill, even if that was a good excuse. Which it isn't."

Murdoc gave a sharp chuckle.

"On the contrary, Matilda, I received money from two different sources, upon her death."

"Excuse me? She never even went into the field!" Matty protested, shaking her head.

Matty frowned, staring hard at Murdoc's bland expression. He didn't seem to be lying, but she couldn't imagine anyone, except him, wanting to hurt Jill. Murdoc shook his head, his mouth tight with anger, even though his lips were tilted into a slight smile.

"Come on, Matty. You must know the sort of information she was pursuing would need sources outside the Phoenix and not all of those sources are as discreet as your people. Did you think no one was paying attention? I wasn't the only one inconvenienced by all those juicy leads she gave you."

"They managed to trace her investigation back to the Phoenix."

"Mmhm. Riley is one of the best, but she isn't the only talented hacker in the world. Frankly, I think I treated you and the Phoenix rather well, all things considered."

"Oh, really?"

"Her leads included information on my son, but I still spared her...for a time. And, when her death became inevitable, I took the job and kept her death in the family, rather than letting an outsider kill her."

"Mac and Jack pursued you all across the globe and you never attacked them, like that."

"Mac and Jack cover their tracks. They never broadcast information between agencies that could get into the wrong hands. Benjamin Liu's hands."

"You should know I wouldn't let anything happen to Cassian. Even after Jill, you should have told me he'd been kidnapped, instead of blackmailing MacGyver."

"Mm, probably, but I wasn't ready to give up on raising him myself."

"And there it is--everything I'm fond of about you, side by side with everything I despise."

"Fair enough," he conceded, relaxing back against the couch. He tilted his head, studying her, his smile almost soft. "I'm fond of you, too."

"Prove it," Matty challenged mildly.

Murdoc blinked, then gave a slow smile, nodding in respect.

Thursday. April 27th. 9 A.M.

Murdoc dragged his heavily buttered toast through the creamy yolks of his fried eggs, popping the bread into his mouth with pleasure. MacGyver shook his head at the theatrical gesture, drawing Murdoc's attention.

"I have an idea, Boyscout..."

"No."

"Be nice, Angus, it's nothing you'll disapprove of," Murdoc assured him. "I think you should play scoutmaster for the kids. They can camp out in the backyard and you can find some brilliant way for them to roast marshmallows for s'mores, without actually starting a fire...or using the barbecue pit, which is just boring."

"Not boring for food," Alex disagreed. "If they're gonna camp out, they might as well do it on a meal of hamburgers and hotdogs."

"Um, yeah," MacGyver agreed, blinking a bit at the actually thoughtful request. "I can make something for that pretty easily."

"Excellent. That takes care of the kids. Now, we just need to settle on the rest of the sleeping arrangements. Awkward, but we need me in the same room, when Jenna pulls Freddy out of the dream world."

"Matty said she and Jenna were sleeping in the living room tonight. I guess I thought she was giving you a turn in the guest room," Alex said, confused.

Murdoc stared hard at him, eyes wide, then he threw back his head.

"MATILDA!!!"

"What are you bellowing about?" Matty asked, coming back from the living room.

Murdoc pointed sternly at her, his eyes wide and bright, his mouth twisted into a snarl.

"I know what you're planning!"

"That's nice," Matty retorted.

"NO, Matilda."

"I'm sorry. Were you under the impression that you're in charge?"

"You can't agree with this!" Murdoc snapped at MacGyver, turning on him.

"Okay, one, I have no idea what you're going on about, and two, Matty is my boss. She tells me what to do, not vice versa."

"Oh, sorry. Let me explain. Dear Matilda wants Jenna to pull her into Freddy's nightmare, so she can pull Freddy out!"

"Ah."

"Ah? AH?!"

"Murdoc."

Murdoc swiveled back to Matty, who smiled serenely at him.

"Do you want to kill Freddy?"

"Of course, I want to kill him," Murdoc scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Okay. Do you trust Jenna to grab Freddy and wake up, before he can kill her? Because you don't get to kill Freddy, if she simply goes to sleep and dies."

Murdoc leaned back in his chair, deflating, his mouth twisting in a sulk.

"Fine. You are in charge, after all."

"Damn right, I am. Now, you and Mac need to make arrangements for Krueger's corpse."

"Hallowed ground?"

"Better safe, than sorry, yes."

"Wait, hallowed ground?" Alex asked. "Shouldn't we be more discreet?"

"If Krueger was simply a terrorist or senator, sure," Murdoc agreed, shrugging lightly. "But, Krueger is a very unfriendly ghost, so unusual measures are called for."

"So, you're going to sneak a dead body into a graveyard and bury it without anyone noticing the new grave? Can you pull that off?"

"Tell you what, Alex, you leave the disposing of murder victims to me and I'll leave the accounting to you."

"I'm...not an accountant."

"So what?"

"So daylight is wasting," Matty scolded. "Get up and get going."

"Ooh! Yes ma'am!" Murdoc assured her, pushing away from the table, with a chuckle.
Rolling his eyes, MacGyver joined him, following Murdoc out the door.

"So," MacGyver said, climbing in the driver's side door. "Any preference on which cemetery we use?"

"Amanda Krueger was a nun. Let's keep the theme going."

"Catholic it is."

MacGyver drove to the back portion of the Catholic cemetery, where some of the graves dated back before the Civil War. Murdoc eyed the wrought iron fence, laughing.

"Welcome to Horror 101, Angus. Today's lesson...the spooky graveyard."

"If this was a horror movie, we'd be about to flunk out by dying."

"Mm, true. Let's not do that."

Murdoc jumped, grabbing the top of the fence and hauling himself over, landing gracefully on the other side. He stood, watching as MacGyver took his turn over the fence. Murdoc backed up a scant few inches to give MacGyver room to stand up.

Mac's expression, eyes wide and mouth slightly open sent Murdoc spinning around, yearning for a weapon.

Standing two feet away was an older woman, her brown eyes dark with sorrow. Her lined face was surrounded by a white wimple, matching the rest of her nun's habit.

"Well, hello," Murdoc greeted, grinning toothily. "How are you today, sister?"

"Murdoc..." MacGyver hissed in warning.

"I'm glad you're here," the nun responded, giving a slight, somber smile that only increased her air of mourning.

"Are you sure you don't have the wrong party?" Murdoc asked, hopefully.

"Quite sure, yes."

"Sister Mary Helena?" MacGyver asked, as Murdoc huffed, waving his hands in frustrated arcs.

"Yes, born Amanda Krueger."

"Well, I'm sorry, if you object, but I'm going to murder your son," Murdoc said, cheerfully.

"Others already committed that act many years ago, child."

"Fine. Technically, that's true," Murdoc conceded, rolling his eyes. "It just didn't stick very well. I'm going to correct that."

"He's still killing and we have to stop him," MacGyver said, gently.

"Yes, you do. I"m glad you chose this place for his remains."

"Sooo, you're here for moral support?" Murdoc said, with a giggle.

"I'm here to help you," Amanda agreed, gliding closer and fully facing Murdoc, "because you're right. This is not the same as killing a terrorist or a senator."

"My part of it is. The person you should be helping is Matty."

"When the time comes, I will help her all I can."

"And what do you think you can do for me?"

"That remains to be seen. For now, come with me."

Amanda began walking the neat rows of graves giving way to crumbling tombstones nestled amongst tall trees. MacGyver fell in beside her, keeping her pace.

"I'm sorry about him."

"He's a lost child. You should be sorry for him."

"No, he shouldn't. The 'lost child' can hear you, you know."

"He's a killer," MacGyver argued, grimly, ignoring Murdoc.

"Yet, he's here, protecting children."

"Yeah, well, my son is involved."

Amanda stopped, turning around to look Murdoc in the eyes.

"You would be here, anyways. Even if you had never been a father, you would still be here."

"Well, no, because I wouldn't know Krueger was still around," Murdoc disagreed mildly. "Probably it's a good thing for the rest of the neighborhood that Cassian is here."

"Quite providential," Amanda agreed, turning and continuing on.

"Where are we going?" Murdoc demanded.

"You can't dig a grave, without it being noticed. But, I may know of a solution."

"We hide him in some abandoned family crypt?"

"I think it best to let the others here be at peace, without my son's unsettled spirit haunting their rest."

"I don't think they care."

"You don't believe in life after death?" Amanda asked, amused.

"I'm talking to it, but I really hope the dead don't just hang around their own decaying bodies. I mean, please, tell me they usually go bye-bye!"

"Nevertheless," Amanda chided, coming to a halt.

MacGyver stared with interest. Several stones, the smallest the size of a man, lay jumbled together in a small clearing. The stones were pockmarked and gray, with bits of white shining through.

"I think you may be able to conceal his body inside of these."

"I'm surprised they're not covered with graffiti."

"They're said to be haunted."

"We might make that true. What do you think, Angus? Can we use a lever or something to get him inside there?"

"I won't need to. It looks like some animals have used these rocks as covers for a den."

"Occasionally, moles have been spotted in the area," Amanda agreed.

"So, that will disguise any digging we do and we just shove the body into the abandoned den. And you'll be able to visit the grave!" Murdoc congratulated.

"I don't think Freddy would want that," Amanda said, sadly.

"Hm, guess not. Heh. I bet you never imagined you'd be helping hide a body, when you became a nun! Especially your own kid's!"

"MURDOC!" MacGyver shouted, angrily, whirling away from the stones to confront him.

"Mr. MacGyver," Amanda chided gently. "You do realize you're giving him what he wants, when you lose your temper at him?"

"If he wants me angry at him, he's succeeding."

"He wants your attention, though, he could find better ways of getting it."

"Whatever works. I'm not picky!" Murdoc assured them.

"That is a symptom of your mental illness," Amanda said, shaking her head.

Murdoc just smirked, shrugging carelessly.

"We need to get back to the house," MacGyver said, sighing. "Sister, thank you for your help. I'm sorry this is necessary."

"Yes, condolences, Sister, yada yada. C'mon, boyscout. I want to get back to Cassian."

"Yes, fine, we're going!"

MacGyver couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes, as he watched Murdoc stalk off with long strides.

"Mr. MacGyver," Amanda persisted, a hint pleading in her voice. "He'll either live up or down to your expectations for him. That's part of his personality, too, a very childish part. He's not your responsibility, but you do have the power to influence him. Pick a worthy goal and find a path to it. For more sakes than one."

MacGyver thought for a moment, then shrugged, smiling.

"I'll think about it. Good-bye, Sister."

"Good luck."

MacGyver caught up to Murdoc at the car, finding him slouched against it, his brow furrowed.

"Did the good sister make another plea for this 'lost child'?"

"Don't knock it. I think she likes you."

"Well, that's just weird."

"You think liking you is weird?" MacGyver asked, a bit surprised.

"A sociopathic murderer whose people skills are limited to burying them? Most people don't like that in a person."

"Yeah, well, she's a nun. It's kind of her job to reach out to lost souls."

"I thought nuns were supposed to all be crabby, old ladies who go around hitting kids' hands with rulers," Murdoc mused, getting into the passenger's seat.

"You know that's just a cliché."

"Why would I know that? I don't hang out with nuns, Angus."

"Okay...point."

"Oh, and we need to stop at Wal-mart."

"Why?"

"I need a really large plastic tote and some bubble wrap."

"Okay, again, why?"

"For Freddy's shroud and coffin, of course. It'll get us to the cemetery, with no one the wiser."

Thursday. April 27th. 11:09 P.M.

Matty took a deep breath. It had worked. This wasn't the boiler room Murdoc and Jenna had described, but sheer ugliness marked this as Freddy's nightmare. She was standing in a living room, shivering with cold, from the breeze coming from holes in the walls. A gray, torn-up couch stood starkly in the middle of the room, the rotting corpse of comfort. Matty had to give Freddy credit. Giving furniture a sense of death, of being dead, took some skill.

The front door creaked open. Matty stared outside, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever might be waiting. The only thing visible was a cloudy sky and dying grass.

"Are you allergic to living things, Krueger?"

A faint sound that might have been laughter or just the wind drifted in from outside. Sighing silently, Matty walked to the door, peering out cautiously to both sides, then throwing in a glance up. Nothing. She stepped onto the porch and the house disappeared. Matty found herself standing on a flat gravestone, surrounded by other graves. She moved onto the grass, reading the tombstone at her feet.

Wilt Bozer.

"C'mon, Freddy. I made peace a long time ago with the dangers of my work, both to myself and those I lead," Matty called out, forcing herself to read the rest of the tombstones, unsurprised to find Mac, Riley, Desi, and Jack's names.

It still hurt. Matty blinked back unexpected tears, fighting the grief that shot through her guts, like a cramp. A nearby grave began heaving, the soil coming loose, a muffled thumping barely audible rising up from the ground. As more dirt poured away, a coffin shook free of the ground. Matty stood still, ready to attack, if Krueger emerged.

The shouts coming from the coffin sounded like Jenna, accompanied by fists pounding angrily on the coffin's lid.

Matty strode up to the coffin and flung it open, darting back, not trusting her senses. Jenna was there, not Freddy, breathing deeply in relief.

"Matty! He...he trapped me. I think I'm bait!"

"Get it together, Jenna," Matilda ordered, keeping her own voice calm. "Where is he?"

"I don't know. He disappeared, once I was in the grave. The atmosphere changed, y'know?"

"All right. We look around. He's here and I doubt he plans on killing us remotely. According to his files, Freddy likes his kills up front and personal."

"Yeah, but I'm not ready to kill you yet, bitch!" Freddy announced, appearing directly beside Matty, out of nowhere.

Grabbing Matty, Freddy tossed her into the coffin, which snapped shut, then sank rapidly into the ground.

"Matty," Jenna cried, alarmed.

She took a deep breath and imagined a shovel, trying to make one appear.

"Uh, uh, little girl. I control what's real around here," Freddy scolded.

"Let her go."

"Oh, I don't think sooo," Freddy crooned. "We're all gonna stay right here. I'm sure more people will show up to play. You ever do any sleepwalking, Jenna?"

"No. Grandfather, no!"

Freddy chuckled derisively.

"Let's watch. Open your eyes, little girl. I want to see what's happening!"

In the real world, Jenna's eyes cracked open, just enough to let her and Freddy see into the living room. From her couch, Jenna could just make out Matty tossing and turning on the love seat. Murdoc stood over her, frowning.

"C'mon, Matilda. Wake up."

Freddy sneered, moving over to Jenna. A slick cold filled Jenna's body, as Freddy merged into her, possessing her. She shuddered, barely able to breath, trying to draw away, but the cold seeped into her bones, as Freddy took control. In the waking world, shadows like burn scars appeared on Jenna's face, puckering her smooth skin.

"Hey, Murdoc," Freddy taunted, speaking through Jenna.

Murdoc whirled, glaring.

"Neat trick. What are you doing to Matty?"

"Aw, I'm keeping her nice and cozy for you, big boy! You want your girlfriend back? Come and get her!"

"You're trying to up the stakes. With the woman who keeps sending me to prison?" Murdoc rattled off with a chuckle. "That's hilarious."

"Liar," Freddy sneered. "You forget I've been in your head."

"All I know is I am SO going to enjoy killing you."

"So, c'mon. Come and get me!"

Jenna fell back, landing hard against the arm of her couch. She whimpered, but didn't wake. Murdoc glared down at her, then threw his head back, screaming in rage. He picked up the coffee table and threw it at the far wall, only barely controlling himself enough to throw it away from Jenna and Matty. Next, he tossed the armchairs over onto their backs.
Hearing footsteps pounding towards him, Murdoc stopped, panting more from anger than exertion.

"Murdoc? What's wrong?" MacGyver asked, staring in dread at the mess.

The two couches remained in place, slanted slightly towards each other. The windows, one in front of each couch, with a television centered between them, were intact. Two armchairs and a tall, standing lamp had sat between the couches, a couple of feet back, but still in easy reach of the coffee table. Now, the lamp lay shattered, between the upended chairs. The coffee table lay in pieces, beneath a triangular dent in the wall.

"What did you do to my living room?!"

"Freddy has your wife and Matty trapped in his dreamworld. They're alive, but we're going to have to send someone in to rescue them. So, maybe now isn't the time to worry about your furniture, hmmm?"

"I haven't taken hypnocil, yet," MacGyver assured him. "I'll go in."

"Have the children taken hypnocil?" Murdoc demanded.

"No, it's best to take it right before sleeping..."

MacGyver trailed off, as Murdoc stormed towards the doorway. He stopped just outside, hearing harsh words.

"I will not let him use Ellen in this fight!"

"He's not. I don't think he wants them awake, when he kills Freddy. Murdoc's gone to great lengths to keep Cassian from seeing that side of him."

"That doesn't mean he'll protect Ellen."

"Cassian cares about Ellen. Murdoc cares about Cassian. I think you can give him the benefit of the doubt."

"He's a killer."

"Yeah, I know, but maybe that isn't all he is."

"Hmph. I guess we'll find out."

11:31 P.M>

Murdoc gave a slight smile, walking briskly outside. Cassian and Ellen stood outside their tent.

"Dad? We heard something. Is it over?"

"No, I just got a bit frustrated. Freddy made a move I didn't expect. He's trying to lure me into his nightmare. Matty and Jenna can't wake up."

Ellen gave a small sob, but raised her chin.

"Then, I'll get you in there."

"Oh, no. I came out here, because it's time for you both to take the hypnocil."

"But..."

"But, nothing. We're the parents. Our job is to protect you. Besides, your mom can still pull us into the dream. She just can't leave herself. Now, get the pills and something to drink. I'm going to watch you take it."

Cassian gave a defeated sigh and went into the tent. Ellen stomped in after him.

"Look, maybe we can palm the drug," she hissed, hoping Murdoc wouldn't hear.

"Bad idea. You do not want to try and pull one over on my dad. It wouldn't work, anyway."

"What would he do to me, if I did?"

Cassian rolled his eyes.

"He wouldn't hurt you, but you'd end up looking pretty stupid."

"Bummer," Ellen declared, grabbing the pill bottle and going back out.

Murdoc smirked at her, as Cassian came up behind her with their sodas.

"He's right, you know. I can tell, when someone is swallowing air or an actual object."

"And, you have awesome hearing," Ellen added, huffily.

"That, too. Now, pill time. Swallow them."

"Adults suck," Ellen said, swallowing her pill and taking a long drink.

"Yes, and you get to be one someday."

Murdoc watched as Cassian took his own pill, then turned back to Ellen. He placed a careful hand on her shoulder, smiling.

"You're a smart kid, Ellen. I came here to protect you, both of you, from a predator. I can't do that and let you get involved. They're opposite things. You get that don't you."

"Yeah, but...he has my mom."

"Not for long. So, are we good?"

"Yeah," Ellen agreed, smiling shakily. "We're good."

"Excellent."

"Dad? Are you going into the nightmare now?"

Murdoc gently ruffled his son's hair, shaking his head soothingly.

"No. In order for our plan to work, I have to stay awake and alert. Now, no more questions and worrying. It's time for bed."

Both children stepped forward, wrapping their arms around him and resting against him. Murdoc could never quite keep from stiffening, almost from flinching, at that much contact, but he forced himself to relax, hugging back lightly. Cassian pulled back first, smiling up at Murdoc, trusting.

"Good night, Dad."

"Good night, Mr. Murdoc."

"Good night, kiddos. We'll see you in the morning."

Murdoc waited until they were settled in their tent, before striding back inside. He found MacGyver alone in the living room, pulling the coffee table back into place.

"I sent Alex to bed. He's taken hypnocil. He took Jenna with him."

"Very romantic. So. Time to get back to work."

"Mmhmm. Good thing the army taught me how to go to sleep, whenever I had to."

"Good thing."

MacGyver settled on the couch, a bit wary, when Murdoc sat down on the floor next to him.

"I'm almost sorry I won't get to witness this."

"You think I'm a match for Freddy?"

"There's no one like you, Boyscout. He has power, but you're far smarter than him."

"Any advice?"

"Improvise."

MacGyver gave a sharp laugh.

"Thanks."

"Seriously. He's used to adults who are stuck in their patterns of thinking, stuck in adult disbelief. You think Santa Claus could be real."

"Why do you know that?"

"I keep tabs on you. I...might have planted a bug or two, the times I broke in."

"I didn't ask how, Murdoc. I asked why."

"Oh. Curiosity, mostly. Plus, you're almost as much fun with science stuff in your spare time as you are on the job."

"You need a better hobby."

"I knooow, but they're so hard to find and this one is so entertaining."

"Murdoc," MacGyver sighed, giving a small laugh. "Shut up and let me go to sleep."

"Aye, aye...sergeant, was it?"

"Close enough."

MacGyver closed his eyes, reaching for sleep. He came back to himself with a jolt, as a hand landed on his shoulder. Opening his eyes, MacGyver stared into the gentle warmth of Amanda's gaze.

"We don't have long," she told him. "I can only hide you from Freddy for a short time, as I'm hiding my granddaughter."

MacGyver looked from side to side, spotting Jenna standing nearby.

"Jenna..."

"I'm sorry. I messed up."

"No, this isn't your fault. We have to stop underestimating Freddy."

"Right now, you need to rescue Director Webber. She is in the greatest danger."

"I wouldn't bet on that," MacGyver disagreed dryly. "But, I am here to help her...or, at least, to help her help herself."

"What are you going to do?"

"Think outside the box."

MacGyver pulled out his swiss army knife, holding it up in the flat of his palm. Concentrating, he thought of Matty, molecules, and wormholes. He grinned, as the knife seemed to break into tiny pieces, before fading away.

"What, did you..."

"Matty gave me that knife. It connects us, so I used that connection to send it to her."

"You're going to try to use his dream world against him? The stories say he's in complete control."

"Not complete. If he were, no one would ever have survived."

"Well. Did anyone?"

"Yes, at least one girl, Alice. He never managed to kill her. Amanda. Can you help me find Matty?"

"I can take you to her," Jenna disagreed. "Amanda is going to hide our movements from Freddy."

"I'm going to try. He can be fought, but it isn't easy. You don't have much time left."

"We'll hurry. Jenna? Are you ready?"

"Yes, follow me."

Jenna led MacGyver to a pale door, carved out of stone. She pushed lightly on it and they stepped through, into a decrepit hospital room. Live wires hung from the light fixtures and water pooled on the floor...and other liquids too, MacGyver noted with disgust. A single hospital bed sat in the middle of the room, surrounded by malfunctioning or dead monitors. A doctor's table sat next to the bed, covered in knives, some of them stained with blood.

Matty lay on the hospital bed, her mouth and eyes taped shut. Her limbs were fastened to the bed with chains. MacGyver couldn't pinpoint the problem, but there was something wrong with the way she was laying, an unnatural angle to her spine. MacGyver's mouth tightened into a grim line, his eyes narrowing, until only a slight sliver of blue shone behind his lashes.

Forgetting his mission, MacGyver strode towards Matty, intent on freeing her.

"Mac, look out!"

MacGyver spun around, shifting to one side, as Freddy appeared behind him. Freddy laughed and a whirling wind filled the small room. The door burst open and MacGyver could see open sky.

"Y'know," Freddy shouted over the roaring air, "I actually really love the simple fears! Go splat, asshole!"

"Actually, Krueger, this much wind gives me my best chance for survival! It's all in the math," MacGyver countered, not fighting the wind, but letting it push him around the room, allowing him to control his path.

The air of the room filled with numbers, in bright blues and greens, writing themselves into complex equations. MacGyver filled the doorway with them, forming a net. The wind died, leaving Freddy staring at MacGyver, warily. Jenna eased slowly over to Matty, as MacGyver taunted Freddy.

"That much wind creates lift, slowing the rate of descent..."

"No one CARES!" Freddy snarled.

"Well. I care."

Freddy rifled through MacGyver's brain and shuddered in disgust. Formulas, facts, creative inspirations all swirled around in dizzying patterns, in every color. Worse, was the underlying order, strict rules, and moral code. Oh, he was definitely killing this. The guy wasn't even that old. Time to get old-fashioned.

Cackling with bloodlust, Freddy charged at MacGyver, intending to make quick work of him. Like Murdoc, MacGyver stood his ground...and Freddy went right through him, almost toppling over Matty. Freddy spun, snarling in outrage, ignoring Jenna, who hovered on the other side, her eyes wide and her hands very still.

"Matter phasing," MacGyver informed him cheerfully. "Spread your molecules apart and let everything else pass through the empty space."

"Think you're smart, huh?" Freddy taunted, throwing a tray of scalpels at MacGyver's face.

MacGyver threw his hands up around his face, feeling the knives cut into his arms. Pulling his hands away, he saw Freddy chuckling, his eyes bright with evil glee at even that small amount of bloodshed.

"I read a lot," MacGyver agreed, shrugging, ignoring the assault.

"Bet I can kill you that way."

Freddy concentrated and MacGyver began separating into small bubbles. MacGyver hissed in pain, as his body started to drift apart. MacGyver grabbed up a scalpel and dragged one of the live wires from the ceiling, wrapping it around the metal knife.

"It's actually amazing how magnetics play such a huge part in how the universe works. Our molecules are actually held together by magnetism, so I can use an electromagnet to stabilize myself...at least in the dream world."

MacGyver ran his electromagnet over himself, healing Freddy's damage. Freddy gave an unwilling huff of admiration.

"You think quick, but you still can't stop me. How're you planning on killing me, bright boy?"

"I'm not here to kill you."

"Damn boring brat! What, you come here just to fetch your boss? I figured loverboy would want the honor," Freddy sneered.

The live wires MacGyver had used began spitting out electricity, waving around madly, before striking at MacGyver, wrapping themselves around his throat. He felt them dig into the soft tissues, his air cutting off. MacGyver wheezed, his throat and eyes burning, trying to imagine a way to trick air into his lungs.

"Think you're way out of that one, brainiac!"

A sudden searing pain lanced through Freddy's back, making him scream, though mostly in shock. Something small and hard twisted inside, beside his spine.

"He doesn't need to," Matty told Krueger, twisting MacGyver's army knife further into Krueger's back. "Mac, Jenna, wake up!"

"What? No!" Krueger protested, trying to wrench free from Matty's hard grip.

Her strength surprised him and he found himself torn from the safety of his nightmare.

Friday. April 28th. 2:09 A.M.

Matty, Jenna, and MacGyver all came awake in the same instant, sitting up abruptly. Murdoc drew his gun, aiming it in Matty's general direction, but not directly at her. Freddy was nowhere in sight, but there was a foulness to the air, almost too faint to detect, but Murdoc could taste it, like ash on his tongue. He nodded at Matty, then nodded sharply to the side. Matty obeyed the silent signal, getting up and heading to one side.

Freddy sprang up from behind her couch with an enthusiastic shout, driving his knives towards Matty's neck. Murdoc fired, catching Freddy in the upper flesh of his shoulder.

Freddy gave a shriek of pain, deeply shocked. He dove back behind the couch.

"OOoooo, I scored a point there, Freddy," Murcoc taunted, happily. "Come on. Come play with the big boys, you coward. No kids here, pal."

Pain, pain and blood, bright red, flowing red, into his sweater. The pain, the pain didn't matter, but the BLOOD. No, no, no, nope, he was supposed to be beyond that, he was FREDDY, the king of nightmares and he. Did. Not. BLEED.

The shuffle of boots on carpet called out to Freddy. He wasn't done yet, though. He could still win. He just needed their fear, their fear and their deaths, especially the kids, but start with the adults. If he could, start with the other. The dark shadow now clinging to his own heels. Oh, Freddy wanted that blood! Kill them all, drink their fear, and he could go home. Easy.

He just had to stay away from any more bullets.

The window...no, too obvious, and predators could always see in the dark. No, the window with the moonlight and star shine, disgustingly clean and bright, that way lay defeat. No, shadows, that was it. He needed to be the boogeyman, hiding in shadows, creeping up. Forcing away his chuckle, Freddy scooted under the couch, merging into the darkness. He watched the boots, knew Murdoc was now in front of the couch. standing in the star light.

"Murdoc..." the bright boy's voice came from the other couch, still close to the window.

"Out, both of you. I need this to be me and him."

Freddy gnashed his teeth, angry and excited. Him and the shadow, but the shadow didn't fear. The bright boy and the woman were calm and cool, too, so contained, practiced. Why weren't these piggies properly afraid?! But, oh...there was fear. Ohh, the delicious thrum of terror, a tasty snack! Not a proper meal, not yet, but enough. The energy of the dream had started to fade, sure, but this helped. Freddy flowed, almost a shadow himself, from the back of the couch, to a corner of the ceiling.

"What's happened?" Alex asked, his voice thready with anxiety.

"The hunt has begun," Murdoc said cheerfully.

"He's here, then? In the house?"

Freddy let himself laugh, then scurried across the ceiling, like half of a spider, disappearing out the door, despite the bullets that pinged next to him or the one that bit off a small piece of his outer thigh. And, oh, that terror increased, as Alex screamed in shock.

"It didn't work! He can still...he's not human!"

"He spent decades in dreams. It's not so surprising he carried a bit out with him," MacGyver reasoned.

"He'll kill us. He'll find the kids and Jenna; they're asleep. They can't protect themselves..."

A sharp thwack, fingers hitting flesh, stopped the torrent of words.

"Now, listen to me, Alex," Murdoc instructed, the words light and sharp, like a slicing blade. "Freddy feeds on fear. He's bleeding, but your fear makes him stronger. I really need you to not do that."

"Of course, I'm afraid. My wife and daughter's lives are at stake!"

"Oh, I don't expect you to stop being afraid," Murdoc assured him, that disgusting smile showing in his voice. "I expect you to be afraid of me."

Alex began choking. Freddy angled himself, so he could just peek back inside the living room, without being clearly seen. Murdoc had put his gun away and had a hand wrapped tightly around Alex's throat.

"You're interfering in my hunt, Alex, and I can't have that. Do you think Freddy is the only one who can do terrible things to you? To protect my kid, I will cheerfully see how many times I can shoot you, without killing you."

Freddy flexed his glove. Guns. This guy liked guns. Where was the fun in that? Knives, knives, slicing, stabbing, watching the blood well up. A gun? Pop, pop, and done. Pop. Pop. Okay, the sound was exciting, but ohhh. To drag cold metal across hot skin, to feel the wetness of death...a gun couldn't give you that!

"Don't worry. I'm plenty afraid of you."

Freddy watched Murdoc shove Alex away, releasing him. Alex stared, rubbing his neck, with sick, anxious breaths, but oohhh. The fear was not for Freddy and had become pale and useless.

"What are we going to do? We don't know where he is," Alex argued, anger further diluting his fear."

"You know he's not in here. Feel free to stay put. If things get too much for you, you can always go out the window."

"Murdoc," Matty ordered, waving him over to her.

Murdoc came and knelt down, as she continued beckoning to him, once he was in front of her. Matty leaned in, her voice becoming a faint whisper.

"I'm going to send Mac to the kids, once you get Freddy away from here. If we can, Alex and I are going to stand watch over Jenna. Don't make him a victim of friendly fire."

"He's not really in danger from me. I just needed to redirect his fear."

"Yes, I know," Matty agreed, calmly. "I also know you're not afraid, but don't underestimate Freddy. The most dangerous predator is a wounded one."

"Hopefully, the one protecting their child is the most dangerous, but I concede your point."

"Tell me something. Is Dennis your birth name?"

"Sure. I didn't start collecting aliases, until after I met Helman. There wasn't any need before."

"Hm. Well, be careful, Dennis," Matty instructed warmly.

"Take care of the others," Murdoc countered, eyes shining with affection, standing back up.

"I will," Matty promised.

Murdoc turned towards the living room door and gave a long, shrill whistle.

"Ohh, Fred-dy! Oley, oley, oxen free! We're finally being left alone, bud. Time to play."

"Come and get me!"

"Ohhh, I intend to."

Murdoc approached the living room door, pulling out his gun. Stopping, he eyed the doorway, fully expecting to be ambushed. Well, so be it. Murdoc rushed through the door, swiftly checking in each direction for his quarry. Nothing. Murdoc huffed.

"Oh. Come. On. You had a clear advantage!"

"Awww, did I disappoint you?"

Murdoc shifted to the right, seeing Freddy standing a short way down the hall.

"Oh, you still have your glove! To be fair, you didn't actually bring a knife to a gunfight. You brought five knives."

"It's all I ever needed. Come on! You got firepower, sure, but I got the shadows. Come get me!"

Freddy disappeared into the shadows behind him. The shadows welled unnaturally, absorbing the hallway's overhead light, the bulbs seeming to pulse and dim. Murdoc strode down the hall, looking for variations in the shadow and listening for his enemy. It saved his life, as he heard Freddy's glove scrape against the wall. He backpedaled so Freddy's glove only grazed his chest, slicing through his sweater and opening the upper layers of skin. Murdoc laughed, as blood oozed out.

"See, that's more like it!" Murdoc said, grabbing Freddy's wrist with his left hand and driving the gun in his right hand into Freddy's jaw.

Freddy spit blood, narrowly missing Murdoc's eyes, a reluctant laugh burbling up from his chest.

"Fella," Freddy told him, falsely kind, "you got something seriously wrong with you."

"Sociopathy," Murdoc provided, smirking.

"Uh, huh," Freddy muttered, crashing his forehead into Murdoc's, then tearing free.

While Murdoc was momentarily stunned, Freddy ran, fading back into shadows, heading for Jenna. Sweet, sweet child, so sweetly afraid, like a chocolate bar, her death rich on his tongue, he could taste it, feel it, wanted it. But, he could hear the unsafe shadow, boots measured, coming ever closer. Freddy swallowed, hurrying along. No more bullets. Yet. It was only yet. He stopped, pressing into a corner, panting. The measured steps, coming closer, set Freddy's heart racing, fear, anger, fear, anger, anger, RAGE.

The game had twisted, but he wasn't prey. He was NOT. He'd heard. Freddy had heard the whispers--Murdoc's woman was with Jenna. Well, good. Screw fear. She died next. That would show Mr. Fancy who ruled. Freddy would gut her and make sure Murdoc tripped on her entrails. Freddy chuckled, bouncing loudly up the stairs, towards the bedrooms.

Halfway up, POP, and Freddy's leg collapsed underneath him.

"Guns are always louder in the movies," Freddy grunted.

"I'm using a silencer. We don't want the neighbors interfering in our business."

"Fine, yeah, duh."

With a bellow, Freddy took a might leap, flinging himself off the stairs, directly at Murdoc. They thudded together, rolling around in an ecstasy of violence, clinging, punching, scratching. Murdoc's gun skittered to one side, momentarily forgotten, as Freddy's glove became the deciding factor in their fight. Freddy's bizarre strength soon flagged, wore down by Murdoc's expertise. Murdoc twisted Freddy's arms behind him and grabbed onto the thick metal plate on the glove's back.

"No, no, no, that's MINE!" Freddy whined, twisting his shoulders back and forth in a vain attempt to pull free.

"It's the most interesting thing about you," Murdoc grunted, finally prying the glove free from Freddy's hand. "I give you points for craftmanship."

Hopping up, Murdoc drove his boot into Freddy's ribs, listening with satisfaction to the brittle snapping of ribs. Grinning, Murdoc put the glove on, then fetched his gun, cradling it in his other hand. Freddy turned onto his back, raising up on his elbows. Freddy licked his lips, tasting defeat. His glove, his glove, sweet death-maker, he needed it!

"Like that? Guess professionals don't knife people much. Too much evidence?"

"Hm. It does leave traces, but there are ways to cover them," Murdoc answered, waving the glove around and clicking the knives. "Mm. Solid craftmanship, Krueger."

"Sure you don't want to partner up? You'd be surprised what I could show you with that thing."

"I'm sure, but, here," Murdoc said, throwing the glove to Freddy. "It's fitting you finally die with it."

Freddy caught the glove, putting it on. An opening, that's all he needed. People always made mistakes and this guy loved to talk and talk. He inched closer. He swallowed, surprised at how much his leg hurt, how shaky it was beneath him. He told himself it didn't matter. He just needed a kill. One kill and he'd be strong enough to wipe them all out. Before he could attack, Matty showed up at the top of the stairs.

"Murdoc, you've played enough. Finish him, so you can get his corpse hidden before sunrise."

Murdoc looked up at her and smiled brightly.

"Matty, coming from you, that's the sexiest thing anyone has ever said to me."

Freddy used the moment of distraction to attack, flinging himself at Murdoc. Murdoc barely managed to fling his arm up, Freddy's knives opening long gashes in Murdoc's forearm. With a pained hiss, Murdoc delivered a powerful blow with his uninjured right arm, the fist connecting powerfully with Freddy's chest. Freddy staggered back, crashing into the wall.

He straightened up to see Murdoc standing still, his gun already aimed, lips curled up slightly and his eyes shining merrily. Freddy felt sick, wanting to slice that smile off the other's face.

"Goodbye, Freddy," Murdoc said, serenely.

"NO!"

Freddy's protest was answered by two bullets, one in his chest and one in his eye. He collapsed, falling in a loose pile at Murdoc's feet. Alex came running out of his bedroom, then walked downstairs, heading towards Freddy.

"Stay back!" Murdoc ordered.

"He's..."

Alex stopped, as Freddy lurched up, growling. Murdoc fired two more shots, both entering Freddy's head, shredding his brain. A quiver went through Freddy's crumpling body and the scent of ashes and blood filled the air. Despite the smell of death, the atmosphere lightened, a foulness to it fading away. Murdoc gave a sharp nod.

"Okay. He's dead."

"Are you sure?" Alex asked, eying the corpse with dread.

"Alex, don't provoke him. He knows a corpse, when he sees one. Goodness knows, he's seen enough of them," Matty chided. "Do me a favor and go get me some bandages and antiseptic."

Alex obeyed, while Matty sat down on the stairs. Sitting a couple of steps below her, Murdoc stripped off his ruined sweater, leaving him in a short-sleeved t-shirt. Matty carefully examined his slashed arm.

"Not too bad. It definitely needs cleaning."

Alex came back with a first aid kit, then left to check on Jenna. Matty cleaned and bandaged Murdoc's arm, her touch firm, but gentle. She didn't let herself linger on the pale, strong limb, steadfastly ignoring Murdoc's state of undress.

"Well, that was fun. Back to prison, I guess."

"I have to keep you there," Matty agreed, reaching out and running the tips of fingers through the hairs at the base of Murdoc's neck.

"It's the sensible thing to do. You don't have to ignore me, though," Murdoc complained.

"What do you want? Mac to show up and play chess with you?"

"Mac as Charles Xavier...I like it! You could, too."

"I prefer poker."

Murdoc leaned forward, resting his forehead on hers, staring silently into her eyes. Matty gave a rueful chuckle, before brushing her lips lightly over his.

"Good thing for you, I'm the boss and can arrange visits, of any kind, as I see fit."

"OOoo, that sounds promising!"

"Yeah, well, you have to get away with murder one last time, first. Go on. You and Mac need to get rid of Freddy."

"Done, boss lady."

3:42 A.M.

Mac couldn't help staring over his shoulder to the back seat. As promised, Murdoc had wrapped Freddy in bubble wrap, before folding him up inside the large, plastic tote. One of Freddy's legs stuck out, covered thickly with bubble wrap. And gift wrap. Murdoc had found a roll of Christmas gift wrap covered in unicorns with red and green manes. The assassin had gleefully covered the serial killer's leg in the whimsical paper and dumped a large bag of bows over the rest of him. Knowing what it was for, MacGyver felt the cheery decorations contrasted starkly with the rope harness fastened around the tote.

"What?" Murdoc asked.

"I'm not sure Amanda is going to appreciate your sense of humor."

"You laughed."

"I was startled."

"Oh, okay, Boyscout," Murdoc laughed. "She's a nun. They like Christmas, right?"

"Yeah, disrespecting the dead, not so much."

"We didn't respect him, when he was alive. I don't see the point in starting now."

Murdoc pulled off the road, parking close to the cemetery fence. Murdoc and MacGyver wrestled the tote over to the fence, then Murdoc climbed nimbly over. MacGyver threw the end of the rope over. When MacGyver was over the fence, too, they both hauled on the rope, bringing Freddy to the top of the fence.

"Okay, I can keep him up for a minute or two. Go over and keep him steady."

MacGyver obeyed, keeping a firm grip on both sides of the rope harness. Murdoc worked his way swiftly but carefully over to the fence, keeping the rope taut. Within minutes, they had Krueger's tote on their side of the fence.

"Okay, time to get this bad boy out of sight," Murdoc said gleefully.

"Right. Grab an end."

Murdoc followed instructions, lifting one end, while MacGyver lifted the other. They managed to haul the tote in unison, keeping an almost easy stride together.

"We work so well together, Angus. It's a shame we can't do this more often."

"You're the one who joined a foreign army and became an assassin."

"Not the point, Boyscout. True, but not the point."

"It kind of is. You don't want to help us, Murdoc. You just want to have fun."

"Why can't I want both?"

Murdoc frowned, turning as far away from MacGyver as he could, while keeping a comfortable grip on their shared burden. MacGyver noted Murdoc's lowered brows and slightly protruding lower lip, sighing.

"What difference does it make?" Murdoc continued, angrily. "If I want to help, or have fun, or just keep prison from making me any crazier, you'd still benefit."

"If you're trying to make friends with us, Murdoc, it matters."

"I can't earn your trust, if you ignore me."

"And, you hate being ignored."

"Absolutely. Who doesn't?"

"Fair enough. Anyway, Matty makes those decisions, not me."

"She brought up the idea of you coming and playing chess with me," Murdoc said, as they came up to the rock grouping.

"As long as you limit yourself to playing chess, not with my head," MacGyver retorted, setting his end of the tote down.

"Arguing again, already?" Amanda asked, appearing next to them.

"Sorry, Sister," MacGyver said, chastened. "We're ready to bury him."

Amanda looked at the tote and gave a slight chuckle.

"Well, that's one way to avoid suspicion. I don't think the tote will fit."

MacGyver hurriedly removed the wrapping paper and bows. He and Murdoc spent a difficult few minutes maneuvering Freddy, but finally, the dead killer was put to rest. MacGyver gathered some smaller rocks and shoved them underneath, making sure Freddy was completely out of view and nearly inaccessible. They straightened up, finding Amanda praying, her cheeks wet with tears. Murdoc started to speak, but MacGyver put a hand on his arm, shaking his head firmly. A moment later, Amanda looked up.

"Sister...I'm sorry," MacGyver said gently.

"I know. I am, too. But, the children are safe, now that it's finally over."

"We need to go, Boyscout. The later it gets, the more likely questions will be asked."

"Be well, both of you. Murdoc? Don't let yourself die unmourned, except for your son. You don't have to share my son's fate."

"Hm. Maybe, maybe not. Good-bye, Sister."

Amanda faded out of their sight. She reappeared in Alex and Jenna's house, sitting next to Matty on the couch.

"Amanda Krueger," Matty stated calmly, setting her coffee down. "What can I do for you?"

"The task is finished. The young men are on their way back."

"Both of them?"

"Yes, I believe so. They walked away together."

"Good. Tell me. Why so much concern for Murdoc? That is why you're here."

"Those in darkness are the most in need of light. I can't help wondering, what might have been, if I had raised my child."

"You had good reasons to believe he would be all right."

"Yes, perhaps, but he wasn't. The worse thing is he never really loved anyone. He stopped wanting to be loved, at a terribly young age."

Matty picked her coffee back up, sipping at it.

"But Murdoc loves and wants to be loved? It's not that simple, Amanda, even if that is true."

"There's nothing simple about love," Amanda said, firmly. "If he wasn't loved, I wouldn't be here. I would be in church, praying that someone would."

"I have to send him back to jail."

"Yes, but you don't have to abandon him there."

"He's not a good person, Amanda."

"No. But, he is still human. Would you love him, if he wasn't?"

"No, I wouldn't," Matty admitted, smiling. "Fine. I do love him. I know he has a lot of, so far, wasted potential."

"I wish you luck, Director Webber. There are too many sad endings in this world. Perhaps this story can have a happy one."

"That depends on Murdoc, but I'll do what I can. Thank you, Amanda, and I'm sorry about your son."

"Thank you. Good-bye," Amanda said softly, fading away.

"Oh, MATILDAaaaah! We're ho-oome," Murdoc sang out, coming in the front door.

"And loud enough to wake the dead, much less Alex and Jenna," Matty retorted, coming to greet them.

"Freddy is well hidden," MacGyver assured her. "There shouldn't be any further problems."

"Good. Now, go get a few hours' sleep. I'll wake you, when breakfast is ready."

"I call dibs on the guest room," Murdoc tried.

"No, you don't. You two are sharing the living room. I get the guest room," Matty retorted.

"Fine with me," MacGyver said, shrugging and trudging into the living room.

Murdoc sprawled down on the floor in front of Matty, smirking.

"I could join you."

"You could and, eventually, you might. One step at a time, Dennis."

Murdoc leaned forward, kissing her, pleased at the feel of her lips moving underneath his. He pulled back, barely suppressing a yawn. Not fooled, Matty smiled wryly at him.

"Okay, fair enough," he conceded, hopping up. "Sleep well."

"You too," Matty answered, smiling fondly, as he walked away, then laughed lightly. "Men."

Matty went upstairs to the guest room, deliberately putting away all thoughts of Murdoc.
Their relationship held as much danger and potential for reward as any mission, if not more. When she was less tired, she would give it her full and careful attention, planning cautiously, but with optimism.

Murdoc wouldn't be able to complain about being ignored anytime soon, that was for certain, Matty promised herself.