Fanon:A Nightmare on Oak Grove Road

A Nightmare on Oak Grove Rode is a fan fiction by some horror fanatic that incorporates elements from A Nightmare on Elm Street and The Sims 3.

The residents of Sunset Valley are in terror as a killer is invading their homes and murdering them in their dreams. Literally. It's up to a group of teenagers to stop the madness and fight against the supernatural darkness. Or die trying.

Prologue
''Fear is being afraid of the unknown. Death is the unknown manifesting itself in it's clearest form.'' - A friend of mine. Rest in piece.

My name is River McIrish. I'm a teenage girl who loves art, Indian beats and jogging. I have green eyes and nicely shaded skin. I consider myself to be pretty. Not beautiful. Pretty. I live in a pretty average financial-class part of town. 330 Oak Grove Road, to be exact. My mom, Fiona, recently let her friend, Molly, and toddler, Sandi, move in with us. Molly's husband disappeared a few months ago, according to my mom. I love visiting a lady named Claire who lives near us at the beach. She's a nice person to have a decent conversation with, and helps me with advice when I feel moody. I don't have a large amount of friends, though I'm not reclusive. I get along fine with Holly Alto, a girl who's all 'sunshine and butterflies!' enough get unicorns annoyed. Other then her, there's Ethan and Lisa Bunch. Lisa's...weird. Personally, I dislike her, though her brother's cool. Well, cooler then his siblings, at least. He's smart and loves books, though he's also quite charming. There's as much a dearth of enemies as there is of friends. VJ Alvi, Parker Langerak and Bebe Hart are the only names that come to mind, really. VJ's a rude little git, and Parker tried to make out with me last year at the school prom after I broke up with him. Bebe's just an incompetent little girl. Long story as to why I think so. I have a story. As in, the My Story. I know, grammar, but each one of us have a My Story. It's the one that shines through all our other accomplishments and failures. It's the one that's the most funny, the most interesting, or the most sad. Sometimes, it's the most horrifying. I must warn you, before you read on, that you are about to enter something I wouldn't have been able to imagine in any state of madness nor intoxication. A world where everyone's a possible-victim. Where innocence doesn't exist. Some of the stuff I'm about to tell you will disturb you. They will sicken you. It will shock you. You might even feel the cold hands of the unknown brush against your neck as you read on. But there is one thing that is certain, and I hope you will listen to my words of advice: Never sleep again.

Chapter 1
It was late Saturday afternoon and Ethan, Holly and I sat in Hogan's Deep-Fried diner. The joint was busier then normal, so our food took a while to arrive. Meanwhile, we sat and studied (or at least tried to) for final exams. All three of us were enrolled in business-studies, so we decided to take turns asking one-another questions from the book. "In which state is the Simoleon not considered a form of currency?" I thought hard for a while, but Ethan had the sharper mind. "Simwaii." he answered. Correctly, according to Holly's nod. Holly asked another round of questions, to which I only answered (incorrectly) to one. When we were about sixteen pages into Land Grabber's Guide to Bussiness, our meals arrived. We ate, exchanging stories of the busy week of preparing for examinations. "Just two more weeks," I said, my voice trailing away at the horrible thought of what came after them. "Oh," Holly, always a hardcore-optimist, said, "after that, it's vacation!". "For only a week." Ethan pointed out. "Still, it's a week." Holly said, taking a bite out of her fries. "And-River, are you okay?" I wasn't listening. I was staring at the person who had just entered the diner. Other's took notice too. I believed it to be Bebe Hart, though she looked almost nothing like her. Her once elegant blonde hair was messy and pointed in all know directions. Her brown eyes were rimmed with blackish-purple circular bruises, with bags under them, as though she was drained from all energy her body once housed. She tried to walk normal, but stumbled a bit with every few steps. Her drowsiness was as clear as a shining lighthouse in an eclipse. She caught me staring, and I whipped my head back to my food. "Wow..." Ethan started. "She's..." "I've never seen her that tired." Holly said. "She's always so...dynamic..." I tried to brush it off. Besides, how was it my business as to what went on in her life? Holly rose from her chair. She was above us now, so it was hard to hear her over the noise in the rest of the room. "I'm gonna go talk to her. Care to join me?" I didn't have to answer. Bebe walked to an empty table, and when she passed us, Holly called her. "Bebe! Bebe!" She turned slowly, and squinted slightly to see who was talking to her. With her current image and her mouth opened, she looked like a zombie. "Bebe, want to sit with us?" Holly offered. I hate you Holly. I thought. I hate you with a passion, sometimes. Bebe hesitated, then took the open seat next to Holly. "So..." Ethan said. "How's stuff goin'?" Bebe mumbled something. I think she said "fine". "Everything fine at home?" She looked at him. Again: zombie. "I'm just kinda..." she seemed to look for the words. Her mouth moved open and closed repeatedly. "Tired?" I helped. Every time she opened her mouth, obviously unbrushed breath exited. It was nauseating. "Yeah." "Why?" Holly pressed. "I...I've had some...dreams...that weren't..." "Nightmares?" I helped again. I felt like a human word-consultant. "Yeah." "Of what kind?" Holly asked. Bebe seemed to look down. She was a sad sight, really. Confused and uncleaned, people often act differently. "You're better off not knowing."

"River!" My mom called. "Could you get the door?" I switched my computer off and walked out into the hall. I could hear my mom warring with the new laundry machine she had installed again. I opened the door to see Ethan. He looked pale and saddened by something. I hadn't seen him since the previous afternoon. "Dude," I started. "What's wrong?" He held back a tear. "Bebe's dead. She died last night in her sleep."

Chapter 2
Everything about that Sunday night seemed different. It was amorphous, the feeling was. Unidentifiable. It was a feeling most of Sunset Valley never knew. Never thought about expecting. Foul play was rumored around the death of Bebe Hart. Ethan had came inside and told me that Bebe was found motionless in her bed by her mother. Apparently, she had died of shock, which was 'natural', though when you live with two certifiably insane parents, others may make the perception of murder. We went to the living room, and sat on the couch. Both of our legs were a bit shaky. "How do you die of shock? In your sleep?" I asked. The only 'shock' she really knew other then a brief moment of emotion was that of popular culture, like when the famous Emmy Star had been caught in a four-way-relationship scandal. Ethan shrugged half-heartedly. Then, genius that he was, turned on his 'Encyclopedia Mode'. "Shock, or acute stress reaction, ASR, is the psychological reaction to something scary or traumatizing. There are various clear symptoms to this," he stopped. "We saw it yesterday." The wheels in my mind spun to keep up. "So, Bebe had ASR?" "I believe so. She showed symptoms such as being in a daze, confusion, and she didn't seem quite in the conversation we had with her. Detachment. In the state she was in, it would have likely developed PTSD. Posttraumatic stress disorder." My mom walked in suddenly, and gave me a hug. I struggled for air. "Mom!" I said muffled. "You're killing me!" I regretted saying the words as soon as they escaped my mouth. "Oh dear," she said, stroking my hair. Someone had called her about the death. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Everything's gonna be alright, okay?" I told her Ethan already told me the story. She asked me thousands of questions, like "Did you know her from school?" and "Were you good friends." Ten minutes later, my mom allowed us to have our privacy once more. Ethan took a few seconds to remember where he left off. "So, you have the psychological effect of shock, and then you have the physical effect. Then you have the physical effect. Circulatory shock.  I payed (barely) enough attention in the CPR coarse at our school to know what that was. More or less.  "Like a hemorrhagic shock, when you go into shock because of rapid bloodloss?" Ethan nodded. "But Bebe didn't bleed at all. So, the arteries in and around her heart were obscured, and the flow of blood was impaired, causing a cardiac arrest."  I nodded. He could have just said 'Heart attack' instead of giving me a biology lesson.  "I could be wrong, though. But I think she might have done something other then simply going to bed to induce the heart attack. I simply don't see a nightmare as being the main cause." "She complained about nightmares at the diner," I pointed out. "So she would have had trouble sleeping. Maybe she took some sleeping pills to help her." "Good eye." "My eyes have nothing to do with it." I said, and smiled.   "Good mind, then." he said. The tension of the room wasn't as great. "From a genius, that's a really nice compliment."   He moved closer to me and kissed me on the lips. It was long. Passionate. I  closed my eyes, and kissed him back.  Our lips parted after a few moments, and our eyes met. We gazed in each other's, searching for the other's reaction. "I...that was interesting." I said. If I had a spare leg, I would've kicked myself for saying something that pathetic.   He jumped from his seat. Silently, he walked to the front door. Or skipped. I couldn't tell the difference. From a different world, he said "See you tomorrow."  So yeah. I basically hooked up with somebody while talking about cardiac arrests. Cool, huh?

Chapter 3
The next day was uncanny. The entire schoolday routine seemed disrupted as a dark mood hung over it. At 09:00, my grade were ushered by teachers to listen to a priest help consult us about life and how precious it is. Some people cried. Others couldn't care less. After a day that passed in the span of centuries, the bell rang to signify it being three in the afternoon. I seized my bag and swung it over my shoulders. For the last period, we had Literature, and continued reading a book called Unicorns for Audrey. I hadn't seen Ethan throughout the day. It was both a relief and a disappointment. I walked down the steps of the school and decided that I would be walking home The bus was full, and I hated riding with other people. I walked, bag slung over shoulder, past the theater, only to stop dead in my tracks. Oh...my...gosh... Exiting the grocery store was Michael Bachelor, the dubbed 'Jock' of the school. He was a lawbreaker at times who often stayed at home. Illness my butt, I'd always say. The fact that he wasn't at school for the nineteenth time this semester wasn't what surprised me. He looked exactly like Bebe Hart the day before she died. Exhausted beyond measurement. Confused. In a daze. Unwashed. He was only fifteen feet away from me. I think I could have went up to him and kindly ask him what the problem was. I think I could have patted his back kindly, telling him he was probably just suffering from some stress for the exams. Perhaps I could have warned him about the dangers of taking too many sleeping pills in one swallow. But, in truth, I just hurried past him, keeping my head low and trying to hope for the best.

My body rocketed up into a sitting position. I was breathing heavily, and cold sweat ran down my forehead. I looked to my right. The alarm clock read 05:38 in green digits, explaining the darkness. I scanned the room for any abnormalities. I tried to assure myself that what made me wake up was purely cognitive. A simple noise that my dreams deceived to be real. River... The voice was a whisper. Barely audible. "Hello?" I called into the darkness. "Mom? Molly?" Why would either of them come into my room at this hour? ''River...' the voice sounded again. It was female, and when I heard it, a feeling of remembrance struck my senses. My mouth felt dry. A tremor shot through my spine. "Hol-Holl-Holly?" I asked. "Holly?" There was no doubt. Holly's dulcet voice was golden. Unique. I wanted to reconvene into my sleep. I wanted to ignore the fact that my classmate had intruded my home. Help....help me...please... "Holly!" I yelled, and threw the bedsheet out of my path. I scurried to the tip of the bed, jumped off from all fours, landed with a thud, and bolted out the room. Holly must have gotten injured someone and reached our house for assistance. "Holly! Where are you!?" I turned the light on, and jumped back. My scream tore through the night air. "Holly! Holly!" I screamed, the body of my friend motionless and pale. River... the voice of the body whispered again. Holly's lips didn't move. RIVER!

In a different dimension, consciousness, to see my mom shaking me to awake. "River, River," she repeated, until my eyes opened. "Come on. You're gonna be late for school."