A NIGHTMARE ON ELM STREET (Continue)
MARGE (OS)
Nancy?
Her mother's door opens OS.
GLEN
Oh, shit.
NANCY composes her voice as best she can.
NANCY
Yes, mother?
MARGE's flip-flops approach outside the door. GLEN barrels out
the window -- NANCY dives for the bed, jams off the light and
disappears under the covers. MARGE, bleary eyed herself, opens
the door and flicks on the light.
MARGE
(beat)
You okay?
NANCY
(weakly)
Yeah. Just had a little dream.
I'm falling right back to sleep.
MARGE
(beat)
Okay... You need anything, just call.
NANCY
Okay.
MARGE closes the door. NANCY immediately sits up and looks at
the window. A single bone-white feather floats down in the
moonlight. Then it's sucked outside and is gone.
97. EXT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT. 97.
GLEN's CADILLAC CONVERTABLE careens into the parking lot and
SCREECHES to a stop. GLEN and NANCY jump out and head for the
station.
GLEN
You mind telling me what's
going on?
NANCY's races into the station without answering.
GLEN (CONTD)
Oh, I see. That makes it all
perfectly clear.
98. INT. POLICE STATION. NIGHT. 98.
NANCY goes straight to the SERGEANT's desk.
NANCY
Garcia, I want to see Rod
Lane again.
GARCIA winces.
SGT GARCIA
I thought when I took the
night shift I'd have peace
and quiet for a change.
NANCY
It's urgent, we've gotta see Rod.
SGT GARCIA
It's three in the morning.
Your mother know you're out this
late?
NANCY
(faking it)
Of course -- look, at least go
back and look at him. Just see
if he's okay.
GARCIA glances at GLEN.
GLEN
(faking it)
We have reason to think there
might be something weird going
on.
LT THOMPSON (OS)
Oh, no argument on that.
NANCY jumps around at the sound of her father's voice. LT
THOMPSON emerges from his office, rumpled and yawning.
NANCY
Dad -- what you doing here?
LT THOMPSON
It so happens I work here, and
there's an unsolved murder. I
don't like unsolved murders,
especially ones my daughter's
mixed up in -- what are you
doing here at this hour? You're
supposed to be getting some
sleep.
GLEN
Listen, sir, this is serious.
Nancy had a nightmare about Rod
being in danger, or something,
and so she thinks...
He trails off, loosing it under LT THOMPSON's glare. Besides,
he
doesn't know exactly what the hell's really going on himself.
GARCIA puts his beefy hand on NANCY's shoulder.
NANCY
I just want to see if he's okay!
SGT GARCIA
Take my word for it, Nancy. The
guy's sleeping like a baby. He's
not going anywhere.
99. INT. CELL BLOCK. NIGHT. 99.
ANGLE ON ROD in his cell. He's asleep, all right, but not safely
so. His bedsheet has come alive. It twitches, pulsates, then
snakes towards his throat.
ROD stirs, the sheet falls still; ROD slips into deeper sleep,
and the sheet moves again, completing the noose around his neck!
100. INT. BOOKING ROOM. NIGHT. 100.
NANCY makes a move for the cell block --
NANCY
This isn't your average nightmare,
Daddy -- damn it!
The door's locked; she hauls on it in desperation.
LT THOMPSON
Now look, Nancy, don't push
it. You've already rubbed my nose
in sex, drugs and violence -- don't
start throwing in insanity!
NANCY takes that one to heart. She wheels on him and pleads, her
intensity sobering even to him.
NANCY
Just go back and check -- please!
The man takes a beat, then shrugs and nods towards SGT GARCIA.
LT THOMPSON
Okay, Garcia. What the hell.
SGT GARCIA
Right...
(feeling in his pockets)
Now where'd I put the key...
He mumbles backs towards his desk. MUSIC BUILDS as we HOLD ON
NANCY'S FACE.
101. INT. ROD'S CELL. NIGHT. 101.
With a terrible SNAP ROD's sheet jerks tight around his neck.
The startled teenager is hauled upright -- eyes popping, face
purple. He claws at the sheet, but despite his strength he can't
get his fingers between the noose and his windpipe. He's dragged
backwards across the cot.
102. INT. BOOKING ROOM. NIGHT. 102.
GARCIA finally has the keys. Urged on by NANCY he fumbles with
the lock.
103. INT. ROD'S CELL. NIGHT. 103.
ROD'S being dragged backwards, gasping and struggling in vain
against the powerful pull -- right across his cell and up the
wall, too. He clutches blindly at his throat at the far end of
the sheet coils around the bars of the high window. Then there's
a powerful wrench of the sheet, and ROD'S neck SNAPS. The kid's
body sags lifeless.
104. ANGLE THROUGH THE BARS as NANY, GLEN, LT THOMPSON and GARCIA
104.
appear in the corridor outside, the girl sprinting ahead.
NANCY
Rod!
But it's too late; NANCY sinks back in horror as her father and
GARCIA rush into the cell.
LT THOMPSON
Gimme a hand, dammit!
GLEN, pale as the sheet that's killed ROD, climbs to the bars
and
unties the knot. ROD slides down over the SERGEANT'S shoulders,
limp as a marrionette with its strings slashed.
SGT GARCIA
Goddamn loco kid -- he didn't
have t'do that -- Madre dios!
They lay ROD at NANCY's feet; a strange Pieta. NANCY's father
looks at her in spooked suspicion.
LT THOMPSON
How'd you know he was gonna do
this?
NANCY says nothing.
FADE TO BLACK
105. EXT. FOREST LAWN CEMETERY. DAY. 105.
BURN ON:
THE FOURTH DAY
FADE UP ON a stark afternoon. On a hill of sere grass
overlooking the valley, the casket of ROD LANE is lowered into
its grave.
A small group of FAMILY and FRIENDS watches soberly as the
MINISTER raises his hand in benediction.
MINISTER
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
May God be with this young man's
soul.
ON THE FACES of MARGE, LT THOMPSON, TINA'S MOTHER and ROD'S
PARENTS. Just for a second or two, in looks too rapid for an
outsider to even notice, these adults exchange looks. Furtive,
quick glances that suggest an immense something that they all
share, something beyond even this second death among their
children. Then they are all staring ahead again, as if the
others weren't even there.
MINISTER (CONTD OS)
His life and his death attest to
the Scripture's warning that he who
lives by the sword shall die by
the sword.
ANGLE ON GLEN, watching --
NANCY, standing alone, not believing it for a minute.
MINISTER (CONTD OS)
But let us recall also our Lord's
admonition that we 'Judge not,
lest we be judged.' Let us
attempt only to love. And may
Rod Lane rest in peace.
NANCY
(quietly)
Amen to that much.
The mourners walk away from the grave, MARGE among them. She
pauses near a MAN and two WOMEN in black -- TINA'S MOTHER, ROD'S
PARENTS. They almost, it seems, speak. Then MARGE hurries on.
WE MOVE WITH HER as she's joined by LT THOMPSON. Both are worn
and on edge. THOMPSON absently lights another cigarette,
offering one to MARGE.
LT THOMPSON
How's Nancy doing?
MARGE
I don't think she's slept since
Tina died.
(shakes her head)
She's always been a delicate
kid.
THOMPSON lights her cigarette, attempting some sort of
nonchalance.
LT THOMPSON
She's tougher than you think.
Any idea how she knew Rod was
gonna kill himself?
MARGE
No. All I know is, this reminds
me too much of ten years ago.
THOMPSON blows a plume of smoke against the hard sky and looks
away.
LT THOMPSON
Yeah. Well... Let's not start
digging up bodies just because
we're in a cemetery.
He gives her a look that could cut stone. MARGE toses down her
cigarete and crosses to NANCY. The girl is simply staring off
over the valley.
MARGE
(very gently)
Time to go home, baby.
She moves her away from the brink of the hill.
106. EXT. CEMETERY PARKING AREA. DAY. 106.
MARGE opens the door of the station wagon for NANCY. NANCY turns
to them both, speaking in a still, small voice.
NANCY
The killer's still loose,
you know.
She has a wild, Cassandra aspect that sends a chill right up
MARGE'S spine.
LT THOMPSON
You saying somebody else killed
Tina? Who?
NANCY smiles a weird sort of smile.
NANCY
I don't know who he is. But he's
burned, he wears a weird hat, a
red and yellow sweater, real
dirty, and he uses some sort of
knifes he's got made into a sort
of... glove. Like giant finger-
nails.
As NANCY has described this monster from her dream, unseen by
her, the faces of MARGE LT and THOMPSON have drained completely
of color.
LT THOMPSON
(low, even, to MARGE)
I think you should keep Nancy
at home a few days. 'Til she's
really over the shock.
MARGE
I got something better...
(to NANCY)
I'm gonna get you help, baby.
So no one will threaten you
any more.
She takes the girl by the arm and guides her into the car,
locking the door from outside. NANCY never taking her eyes from
her father's as the car bears her away.
FADE TO BLACK
BURN ON:
THE FIFTH DAY
107. EXT. UCLA SCHOOL OF MEDICINE. DAY. 107.
FADE UP ON UCLA's WESTWOOD CAMPUS and PAN TO SIGN:
UCLA SCHOOL OF MEDICINE
INSTITUTE FOR THE
STUDY OF SLEEP DISORDERS
108. INT. A LABORATORY SLEEPING CHAMBER. 108.
A NURSE applies sencors to the head, breast, arms, and fingers
of
NANCY THOMPSON. The girl is lying on a simple broad cot, in her
pajamas. The room is subdued in color and holds only this single
bed. A large mirror set into one wall hides an observation room
beyond.
NANCY
But I just don't feel... ready
to sleep yet. Please, do I
have to?
109. WIDER, REVEALING DR SAMUEL KING, a young, curly-haired internist;
109.
intelligent and wry. He treats NANCY at all times like a young
adult, never patronizing. He winks as the NURSE finishes.
DR KING
Don't worry, you're not gonna
change into Bride of Frankenstein
or anything.
NANCY manages a smile, but she's haggard and visibly thinner.
MARGE, background, looks downright distraught.
DR KING (CONTD)
Nancy have any severe childhood
illnesses? Scarlet Fever?
High temperatures -- concussions?
MARGE
No, nothing.
NANCY
He means, did you ever drop me
on my head.
The doctor and girl share a nervous laugh; MARGE doesn't even
smile.
DR KING
Nightmares are expected after
psychological trauma. Don't
worry, they go away.
MARGE
I sure as hell hope so.
NANCY
I don't see why you couldn't
just give me a pill to keep me
from dreaming...
DR KING
Everyone's got to dream.
If you don't dream, you go...
(he drills his finger
at his temple)
All set?
NANCY
No.
MARGE
They're just simple tests,
Nan. We'll both be right
here.
DR KING
Look, I know it's been fright-
ening, I know your dreams have
seemed real. But... it's
okay. Okay?
MARGE
Please, Nancy. Trust us.
The girls gauges her mother, the doctor, the situation very
carefully. Then lowers her eyes.
NANCY
It's not you I don't trust.
It's...
(gives up)
Okay. Let's do it.
Greatly relieved, MARGE gives NANCY a goodnight kiss, then
follows the doctor through a doorway near the mirror. As soon as
her mother is out of sight, NANCY'S eyes drift to the mirror
itself. In its reflection she sees herself looking back, alone
on the bed.
DISSOLVE TO:
110. INT. THE OBSERVATION ROOM. 110.
MARGE and DR KING overlook NANCY's sleeping chamber through the
one-way mirror. And KING monitors the girl even more closely
with a bank of instruments -- a mass of glowing dials, graphs and
meters. His manner with MARGE is slightly more sober.
DR KING
How long's this been going on?
MARGE
Since the murder. She was fine
before that.
DR KING
Not to worry. No signs of path-
ology in Nancy's EEG or pulse
rate. I'd guess what we've got
is a normal young girl who just
happens to have gone through
two days of hell.
MARGE
It's just made her think...
her dreams are real...
KING adjusts a dial, watching the EKG like a hawk.
DR KING
Ever hear the old Buddhist tale
about the King who dreamed he
was a beggar who dreamed he
was a king?
MARGE twitches. Then there's a slight alteration in the sound
of
the EKG. KING nods in satisfaction.
DR KING (CONTD)
Okay, good. She's asleep.
MARGE
(immensely relieved)
Thank God.
MUSIC RISES SOLEMNLY, MAJESTICALLY into a haunting transition
as
we
DISSOLVE TO
111. A MONTAGE OF SHOTS, of the EKG GRAPH, its inky needles calming,
111.
of a METER tracing the quieting of NANCY's pulse, and of OTHER
INSTRUMENTS, indicating life processes we can only guess. All
smoothing out.
112. CLOSE ON NANCY on TV MONITOR, asleep like the child she is.
112.
Innocent.
MARGE lights a cigarette, angry at her helplessness.
MARGE
What the hell are dreams, anyway?
DR KING
Mysteries. Incredible body
hookus pokus. Truth is we
still don't know what they
are or where they come from.
As for nightmares...
(leans closer)
Did you know that in the last
three years twenty Philipino
refugees in California died
in the middle of nightmares?
Not from heart attacks, either.
They just died.
He gives a "Ah don' know" shrug. MARGE looks out into
the
sleeping room. NANCY is a motionless bundle in the middle of the
bed.
113. ANGLE ON A NEEDLE on an EKG dipping to a lower reading. 113.
114. WIDER ANGLE -- the mother and DOCTOR watching. 114.
MARGE
What happened? That needle
sank like a rock.
DR KING
(quietly)
She's entering deep sleep now.
Heart rate's a little high due
to anxiety, but otherwise she's
nicely relaxed. All normal.
She could dream at any time now.
(beat)
Right now she's like a diver
on the bottom of an ocean no
one's mapped yet. Waiting to
see what shows up.
115. INT. THE SLEEPING ROOM. 115.
We can see NANCY drift from the initial stage, over the
brink into deep sleep. Her hair falls into her eyes; her face
relaxes; her shoulders curl round her like comforters. THE MUSIC
DEEPENS, and begins to hint at the tones of the NIGHTMARE THEME.
116. INT. CONTROL ROOM. DAY. 116.
DR KING and MARGE watch the instruments' every move.
One of the machines begins a slight CHIRPING. KING scans it,
liking what he sees.
DR KING
Okay, she's started to dream.
He leans forward in his chair, like a pilot starting an
instrument approach. MARGE THOMPSON licks her dry lips, fighting
a turn of nausea.
MARGE
How can you tell?
DR KING
R.E.M.'s. Rapid eye movements.
The eyes follow the
dream -- their movement picks
up on this --
He prods a dial with his pencil and scribbles the time on a note
pad.
DR KING (CONTD)
Beta Waves are slowing, too.
She's dreaming, all right.
A good one, too.
MARGE watches the TV MONITOR. It's in extra-close on NANCY's
eyes -- and they're darting beneath the lids, reacting to events
lost behind a skein of flesh and neurons.
KING points to a moving graph. A needle's begun waving lazily
between plus and minus three. The DOCTOR nods, assured.
DR KING (CONTD)
Typical dream parameter. A
nightmare, now, would be plus or
minus five or six; she's just
around three point --
He stops. Outside, visible through the glass, NANCY twists
around. Eyes still closed, she's nevertheless holding her head
in the attitude of prey listening to the first faint sound of the
predator's approach.
MARGE looks from her daughter to the DOCTOR, color draining from
her face.
MARGE
What the hell's this? She
awake or asleep?
The needle of the graph gives a jagged pitch up, plunges, then
surges well above the eight mark. A strange MUSIC CUE --
disonant and threatening, creeps in -- the NIGHTMARE THEME
slurred into awful minors and weird disonance. KING stares at
the gauge in disbelief, rapping his finger on its glass.
DR KING
Can't be. It never gets
this high...
The needle swings even higher, benind.
DR KING (CONTD)
Jesus H. Christ.
He's cut off by the high-pitched KEENING of the girl, the SOUND
cutting through the double thickness of the glass like a lasar.
A warning BEEPER has begun, the instruments light up like a
Christmas tree -- and outside in the sleeping room, NANCY is
contorting as if shot through with a thousand volts. KING knocks
over his chair in his sprint for the door.
117. INT. SLEEPING ROOM. 117.
The DOCTOR and MARGE come in on the run -- NANCY's flailing and
screaming as if the devil himself were after her. KING grabs her
to shake her awake;
ANGLE ON NANCY (eyes open) -- looking in terror -- SOUND ECHOED
STRANGELY.
IN HER POV -- dressed in KING'S clothes -- the horribly scarred
MAN reaches out.
WIDER -- (NANCY'S eyes closed in sleep) as the girl's fist shoots
out with incredible force and knocks DR KING flying!
The NURSE and MARGE both descend on her --
and again in her SLEEPING POV we see the MAN stagger for her.
WIDER ON NANCY -- (still in her nightmare) -- fighting like a
tiger with both MARGE and the NURSE -- sending the NURSE
sprawling -- leaving MARGE hanging on for dear life.
ANGLE on the stunned DOCTOR fumbling with a hyperdermic needle,
spilling most of the stuff on himself with his shaking hands --
the SCREAMS AND CURSES of NANCY are deafening and worthy of a
stevador fighting off his worst enemy. Stranger still, her hair
is electrified, standing on end and greying before their very
eyes!
MARGE screams at the top of her lungs.
MARGE
NANCY!!! IT'S MOM -- NANCY!!!!
Some deep bolt of psychic power smacks through the girl, and her
eyes flap open -- they're glazed with terror and fury, but open.
NANCY's awake.
She stares around like a cornered animal in the middle of the
bed, her purple face gasping out gut-wrenching SOBS. The NURSE
and MARGE dare to go back in and hold the sweat-drenched girl as
DR KING comes for her with the needle.
DR KING
Now, this is just going to let
you relax and sleep, Nan --
With incredible swiftness, NANCY backhands the hypodermic into
a
far wall, shattering it into a million pieces.
NANCY
No. That's enough sleep.
Her eyes are windows straight into white fire as she locks into
KING'S face. He dabs his split lip, swallowing painfully.
DR KING
Okay, kid. Okay. Fair enough.
He holds out his hand. NANCY at last takes it, and sags back
into her pillow, exhausted. Then KING comes up with blood on his
hand.
He stares at it, dumbfounded, then at the girl. Across her left
forearm, a deep gash is bleeding freely, as if made by a very
sharp instrument.
MARGE
Oh my god, oh my god...
DR KING
(to the NURSE)
Get the kit!
The NURSE scrambles away as the DOCTOR claps his hand over the
wounds. He looks into NANCY's face. What he sees frightens him
even more: NANCY'S haunted, ghost-like eyes turn from him to her
mother, and a terrible, chilling smile opens across NANCY's white
lips.
NANCY
You believe this?
She pulls her free arm from beneath the sheets and reveals a
strange hat, filthy and worn -- the KILLER'S hat. The sight of
it frightens MARGE more than anything that's come before.
MARGE
(deathly pale)
Where the hell did you get that?
NANCY fixes her with Xray eyes.
NANCY
I grabbed it off his head.
MARGE stares at the hat as if it held her whole future, and her
future was a horror.
FADE TO BLACK
118. EXT. NANCY'S HOUSE. DAY. 118.
BURN ON
THE SIXTH DAY
FADE UP ON NANCY'S HOUSE, early morning.
119. INT. NANCY'S KITCHEN. DAY. 119.
MARGE is on the telephone, the dirty hat in her hand. Nearby is
a nearly empty bottle of gin.
MARGE
She said she snatched it off
his head in a dream.
(listens)
No, I'm not crazy, I've got
the damn thing in my hand!
(listens)
I know we did, we all...
(hears NANCY
approaching)
Gotta go.
She hangs up and stuffs the hat and bottle into a drawer,
screening the action with her body. NANCY enters.
By now the girl has an extraordinary look. Her hair is ashen,
her skin transluscent, and eyes dark-ringed. Her right forearm
is heavily bandaged over the slashes. In short, instead of the
girl next door, we now could be looking at the lunatic from the
next cell. MARGE, though she does her best to hide it, is
downright frightened of her.
MARGE (CONTD)
You didn't sleep, did you?
The doctor says you have to
sleep or you'll --
NANCY pours herself a cup of black coffee.
NANCY
Go even crazier?
MARGE
I don't think you're going
crazy -- and stop drinking
that damn coffee!
NANCY
Did you ask Daddy to have the
hat examined?
MARGE
I threw that filthy thing away --
I don't know what you're trying
to prove with it, but --
NANCY comes closer, her eyes shining with a new sureness.
NANCY
What I learned at the dream
clinic, that's what I'm trying
to prove. Rod didn't kill Tina,
and he didn't hang himself.
It's this guy -- he's after
us in our dreams.
MARGE
But that's just not reality,
Nancy!
120. Furious, NANCY janks open the drawer before MARGE can stop
her 120.
and spills the bottle and hat onto the counter.
MARGE grabs away the bottle protectively -- but it's the hat
NANCY goes for. She waves it triumphantly -- demonically.
NANCY
It's real, Mamma. Feel it.
MARGE
(horrified)
Put that damned thing down!
MARGE lunges for it -- NANCY leaps out of reach --
NANCY
His name is even in it -- written
right in here -- Fred Krueger --
Fred Krueger! You know who that
is, Mamma? You better tell me,
cause now he's after me!
MARGE swallows, then persists in the lie.
MARGE
Nancy, trust your mother for
once -- you'll feel better as
soon as you sleep!
NANCY shoots a hard humorless laugh, holding up her slashed arm.
NANCY
You call this feeling better?
Or should I grab a bottle and
veg out with you -- avoid
everything happening to me
by just getting good and loaded --
MARGE slaps her hard.
MARGE
(losing it)
Fred Krueger can't be after you,
Nancy -- he's dead!
The room falls silent, both women staring at the other.
MARGE (CONTD)
(low, raw)
Fred Krueger is dead. Dead and
gone. Believe me, I know. Now
go to bed. I order you, go to
bed.
MARGE snatches the hat away. NANCY is furious, betrayed.
NANCY
You knew about him all
this time, and you've been acting
like he was someone I made up!
MARGE pulls away.
MARGE
You're sick, Nancy. Imagining
things. You need to sleep,
it's as simple as that.
NANCY wheels and smashes MARGE'S bottle of gin in the sink.
NANCY
Screw sleep!
MARGE (CONTD)
Nancy!
But NANCY runs past her mother for the front door.
MARGE (CONTD)
Nancy -- it's only a nightmare!
NANCY turns in the doorway.
NANCY
That's enough!
On the door SLAM, we
CUT TO
121. EXT. SHAKESPEARE BRIDGE. DAY. 121.
ANGLE ON A NEIGHBORHOOD STREET. We hear GLEN's VOICE and PAN UP
to REVEAL NANCY and GLEN high above, two tiny figures walking
across this strange white bridge in old Los Angeles. CAMERA
BEGINS A SLOW ZOOM.
GLEN
Whenever I get nervous I eat.
NANCY
And if you can't do that, you
sleep.
GLEN
Used to. Not anymore.
GLEN jams more Big Mack into his face. By now our ZOOM reveals
he's attacking a huge bag of Big Macks, and furtively eyeing
NANCY. The girl's hair is startlingly white in the sunlight.
She's reading a book, hardly paying attention.
GLEN (CONTD)
You ever read about the Balinese
way of dreaming?
NANCY
No.
GLEN
They got a whole system they
call 'dream skills'. So, if
you have a nightmare, for
instance like falling, right?
NANCY
Yeah.
GLEN
Instead of screaming and getting
nuts, you say, okay, I'm gonna
make up my mind that I fall
into a magic world where I can
get something special, like a
poem or song.
(grins hopefully)
They get all their art literature
from dreams. Just wake up and
write it down. Dreamskills.
He stops, seeing the look on NANCY's face. Our ZOOM is much
closer now, a wide medium, and still coming in on the kids.
NANCY
And what if they meet a monster
in their dream? Then what?
GLEN
They turn their back on it.
(grins hopefully)
Takes away its energy, and
it disappears.
NANCY
What happens if they don't do
that?
GLEN
(shrugs)
I guess those people don't
wake up to tell what happens.
NANCY
Great.
She leans over the railing, poking her face back into her book.
GLEN tips its cover and reads its title. OUR ZOOM IS STILL
MOVING CLOSER, a MEDIUM CLOSE UP NOW.
GLEN
'Booby Traps and Improvised
Anti-personel Devices'!
NANCY
I found it at this neat
survivalist bookstore on
Ventura.
GLEN
(shocked)
Well what you reading it for?
OUR ZOOM LOCKS IN ON A TIGHT TWO ON THEIR FACES, NANCY's grimly
determined.
NANCY
I'm into survival.
She walks away, OUT OF FRAME, leaving GLEN watching after her
in
astonishment.
GLEN
She's starting to scare the
living shit out of me.
122. EXT. ELM STREET/NANCY'S HOME/EVENING 122.
ANGLE ACROSS NANCY'S "TREE LAWN", the grass between
the sidewalk and the street, in the general direction
of GLEN's home. This ANGLE doesn't quite reveal
Nancy's house.
FOREGROUND is a utility truck in which a half dozen
Hispanic WORKERS are loading tools, extension cords
and hardware. They
look like they've put in one hell of a hard day's work.
MARGE appears and hands a check to the FOREMAN of the crew, a
white guy in clean coveralls and a gold chain. He scrutinizes
it.
FOREMAN
And the other...
MARGE forks over a wad of cash, hands trembling in her
half-drunk, helpless rage.
MARGE
Where's your mask and gun?
The FOREMAN counts the money swiftly.
FOREMAN
Don't bust my chops, lady.
If the city found out I put
'em in without inside releases
I'd loose my license.
He shoves the money in his pocket and climbs in his truck. MARGE
EXITS FRAME for her house.
PAN WITH THE TRUCK as it pulls away, THEN PICK UP NANCY, walking
across the street from the corner. Alone. Dispirited. She
lifts her eyes to her home and stops in her tracks.
NANCY
Oh gross...
123. WIDENING TO REVEAL THE HOUSE as NANCY walks across her front
123.
yard. Every single window has been covered with brand-new
ornamental iron bars, bolted deeply into their frames.
CLOSER, AT A WINDOW. NANCY gives a set of bars a powerful
shake. They don't budge. Then girl looks up and sees even the
window to her second floor bedroom is barred. And the rose
trellis has been ripped down and heaped at the foundation in a
tangle of wood, thorns and broken flowers.
124. INT. MARGE'S ROOM. EVENING. 124.
ANGLE ON THE DOORWAY INTO THE HALL. Easy listening MUSIC wafts
through the air. NANCY appears in the doorway.
NANCY (OS)
Mom, what's with the bars!?
125. REVERSE to MARGE, propped against the headboard of her bed,
a 125.
crooked shadow in the gloom. A fresh bottle of Gin glints in her
hand.
NANCY
Oh, Mom...
The girl crosses and reaches gently for the bottle. MARGE
snatches it away.
MARGE
'S'mine...
She rocks the bottle in her arms.
NANCY
What's with the bars?
MARGE
S'curity.
NANCY sits on the bed, a surprising compassion entering her
voice.
NANCY
Mom, I want to know what you
know about Fred Krueger.
MARGE
Dead and gone.
NANCY
I want to know how, where --
if you don't tell me, I'm going
to call daddy.
MARGE gives a laugh -- a rasping chachination from deep in her
chest.
MARGE (CONTD)
Your father the cop. That's a
good one.
(colder)
Forget Fred Krueger. You don't
want to know, believe me.
NANCY
I do want to know. He's not
dead and gone -- he's after me
and if I sleep he'll get me!
I've got to know!
MARGE blinks at her a moment, then cracks a terrible, crooked
grin.
MARGE
All right.
126. INT. NANCY'S CELLAR/NIGHT 126.
MARGE drags NANCY headlong down the cellar stairs and across the
room with a crazy fury, twisting her down near the foundation.
And she thrusts her face so close to her daughter's that NANCY
reels from the alcohol.
MARGE
You want to know who Fred
Krueger was? He was a filthy
child killer who got at least
twenty kids, kids from our
area, kids we all knew. It
drove us all crazy when we
didn't know who was doing it --
but it was even worse when
they caught him.
MARGE draws herself up with a shake.
MARGE (CONTD)
Oh lawyers got fat and the judge
got famous, but someone forgot to
sign the search warrant in the
right place, and Fred Krueger
was free, just like that.
NANCY
So he's alive?
MARGE smiles grimly.
MARGE
He wouldn've stopped. The
bastard would've got more
kids first chance he got --
they found nearly ten bodies
in his boiler room as it
was. But the law couldn't
touch him.
At the mention of "boiler room", NANCY gives a shake.
MARGE
misses this, too busy taking a pull on the bottle that's never
left her hand.
MARGE (CONTD)
What was needed were some private
citizens willing to do what had
to be done.
She reels slowly, looking at NANCY is defiance.
NANCY
(hushed)
What did you do, mother?
MARGE cradles the bottle.
MARGE
Bunch of us parents tracked him
down after they let him go. Found
him in an old boiler room, just
like before. Saw him lying there
in that caked red and yellow sweater
he always wore, drunk an' asleep
with his weird knives by his side...
NANCY
(dreading it)
Go on...
MARGE reaches over and taps a dusty two-gallon jug of gasoline
near the lawn mower.
MARGE
We poured gasoline all around
the place, left a trail out the
door, locked the door, then...
She mimes striking a match --
MARGE (CONTD)
WHOOSH!!!
Her arms shoot up and her eyes go wide with the light of that
fire. There's awe in her voice. Then she drops her arms.
MARGE (CONTD)
(hushed, remembering)
But just when it seemed not
even the devil could live
in there any more -- he crashed
out like a banshee, all on fire
-- swinging those fingerknives
every which direction and
screaming he... he was going
to get us by killing all our
kids...
She stops with a sudden quake and drinks for a long moment. But
the intake doesn't hide the image. Her face bathed in tears, she
looks at her daughter and shakes her head.
MARGE (CONTD)
There were all those men, Nancy,
even your father, oh yes, even
him. But none could do what
had to be done -- Krueger rolling
and screaming so loud the whole
state could hear -- no one could
take your father's gun and kill
him good and proper except me.
She sweeps her hand across the air in a terrific slash, then
stops, her hand shaking, her voice hoarse and terrified. She
looks at her daughter, begging.
MARGE (CONTD)
So he's dead Nan. He can't
get you. Mommy killed him.
For someone who started this film at a very young seventeen,
NANCY's now the battle-tempered veteran as she takes her mother
in her arms and rocks her.
NANCY
Who was there? Were Tina's
parents there? Were Rod's?
MARGE sags back.
MARGE
Sure, and Glen's. All of us.
But that's in the past now,
baby. Really. It's over.
(slyly)
We even took his knives.
The woman twists around and opens the door on an old furnace --
a
furnace unused since the newer gas one nearby was put in. She
fishes inside the cavity -- as then we hear a touch of the
familiar 'SCRRIITCH'. Next moment she pulls out an object
wrapped in rags, opens it and displays the long, rusted blades
and their glove-like apparatus.
MARGE (CONTD)
See?
NANCY stares at the damn things, chilled.
NANCY
All these years you've kept those
things buried down here? In our
own house?
MARGE (CONTD)
Proof he's declawed. As for him,
we buried him good and deep.
MARGE shoves the knives into their hiding place, closes the
little iron door.
MARGE (CONTD)
So's okay, you can sleep.
She lurches up and staggers upstairs.
NANCY shivers and looks down at her arm. The cut beneath her
bandage has begun to bleed again. And from inside the furnace,
as if from deep below, the PULSING of the boundless
nightmare-boiler room can be faintly heard.
127. EXT. ELM STREET. NIGHT. 127.
WIDE ON THE STREET AND BOTH HOUSES, GLEN's on the right, NANCY's
on the left. A TELEPHONE RINGS. ZOOM IN ON GLEN'S UPSTAIRS
BEDROOM WINDOW.
128. INT. GLEN'S & NANCY'S BEDROOMS - INTERCUT. NIGHT. 128.
129. GLEN, yawning, crosses and picks up his telephone. 129.
GLEN
Hello?
NANCY (telephone)
Hi.
GLEN
Oh. Hi, how y'doing?
NANCY looks out the window and touches her hair.
NANCY (CONTD)
Fine. Stand by your window
so I can see you. You sound
a million miles away.
In the lighted window across the way, she can SEE GLEN move into
sight. In his shot, we can SEE NANCY step into her window behind
the bars.
NANCY (CONTD)
Much better.
GLEN
I heard your ma went ape at the
security store today. You look
like the Prisoner of Zenda or
something. How long's it been
since you slept?
NANCY
Coming up on the seventh day. It's
okay, I checked Guiness. The
record's eleven, and I'll beat
that if I have to.
(beat)
Listen, I... I know who he is.
GLEN
Who?
NANCY
The killer.
GLEN
You do?
NANCY
Yeah, and if he gets me, I'm
pretty sure you're next.
GLEN is appalled.
GLEN
Me!? Why would anyone want to
kill me?!
NANCY
Don't ask -- just give me some
help nailing this guy when I
bring him out.
GLEN pales.
GLEN
Bring him out of what?
NANCY
My dream.
GLEN
How you plan to do that?
NANCY
Just like I did the hat. Have
a hold of the sucker when you
wake me up.
GLEN
Me?
(switching back to a more
comfortable reality)
Wait a minute, you can't bring
someone out of a dream!
NANCY
If I can't, then you all can
relax, because it'll just be a
simple case of me being nuts.
GLEN
I can save you the trouble.
You're nutty as a fruitcake.
I love you anyway.
NANCY
Good, then you won't mind cold-cocking
this guy when I bring him out.
GLEN
What!?
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