Nightmare in My House
Sept 15, 2021 20:24:44 GMT -5
via mobile
Marcus Welsh, zybala, and 5 more like this
Post by DiOGee on Sept 15, 2021 20:24:44 GMT -5
"Yeah, this ain't working. I just feel like I could sleep.. How about you?"
Cashe was sitting on the top layer in the sunken living area of his home. His phone was on speaker as he was looking at a note attached to some plastic wrap. "Same here. Tired but nothing special.. What did he say were in these brownies?" Cyrus Riddle or, so the name on the phone indicated asked. Cashe reading the note, names off a few of the ingredients.
"It's basically a cocktail of different shit. Supposed to have some Peyote, THC, and Psilocybe azurescens but I'm sure I butchered those words. I think they are mushrooms of the magic variety. I won't even pretend to pronounce this other shit.."
You hear some tsk sounds on the other line. "Well, that's a bloody drag innit?" Riddle's accent popped up from time to time.
"I'm just gonna call it a night. I'm tired, so at least it helped with that!"
You could hear Riddle yawning through the phone. "Same. We tried. This dream state stuff is hard!"
"Yeah, guess we'll just shoot on em the old fashion way. Drag them out to Sector 16 and bury them in the Hills!" Cashe, making a Hills Have Eyes reference. He crumbles the note and plastic, Cashe chucks it away. He was looking forward to hallucinating. "I'll catch up with you tomorrow."
Riddle responds. "Yeah.." He yawns, cutting himself off. "I'll be around.." Cashe hangs up first, pushing the red circle on his phone to end a call. Shaking off the daze that this brownie WAS giving him, that's all Cashe was experiencing as he stands to his feet. Wobbly as he holds his arms out for added balance.
"Whoa.. I'm getting a little Woozy here!" A play on the movie Scream. He laughed but it stumbled him up. Keeping himself upright, Cashe grabs a wall and heads around the corner. Down a hallway, he finds his bedroom and flops across the bed. He was out as soon as he landed.
"Before you repeat yourselves, no, we ain't a 'real' Tag Team. You are, though, and have been a dominant force. Nobody will be saying differently. I know people hang from the flex of your danglers, real heavy tug job, so I imagine the limp in your walk is real nice. The thing is Bastards? I could use a cane because the very second I came through the door, I was doing it with a pimp mentality. All you deep end swimmers are looking like Hoes to me and I brought the baby powder.
I'm not scared of you. I know that seems clichè and it probably has been said more times than you've heard gargling from the groupies on their knees, praying in front of you! I'm not a swallower of pride, I'm shallow, I barely have any pride to speak of but I AM a spitter. You spit just the same but what you spit seems to only scratch the surface. Let's get to know one another, yeah? Maybe you don't care to, maybe this is a stroll in the park to you, or at least, has been.. Until now. James Raven might have sent us to feed you but sometimes the beast over-eats and chokes on their next meal.."
One, Two, Freddy's Coming For Y--
"Huh?" Groaning as he rolls onto his back. Cashe was still laying across the bed. Covered in sweat, the bed was soaked where he had been laying. "Fuck, it's hotter than the Devil's Snatch in here…" His clothes were sticky, his shirt stuck against his chest like he went for a swim. It would be more visible had there been any light in the room. Only the dim glow of the moon pouring through his windows gave any line of sight.
3, 4 Better Lock Your Door..
A girl's voice sang. Snapping up, Cashe sits at the side edge of his bed. Still tired and soaked. "I always lock my doors! Who's there?" His vision blurry, he rubs his eyes and looks over at the digital clock on a night table. It didn't show a time, the clock had melted like a candle. "Boooshit.." There was a pitch to his voice as he sprang up from the bed. Something wasn't right. Sharply he scans the room, he could feel a presence. Then came a familiar smell.
"Bacon?" It wasn't as familiar as he initially thought. "No, melted plastic. What is that smell?" Being big on smells, it became more annoying that he couldn't place it than the whispering rhyme or the melted clock. A voice from behind him answers the mystery while revealing themselves in the process.
"Flesh. Burnt Flesh.."
Hitting a spin that would score high in Ice Skating, Cashe feels a chill glide over his skin as he stares at something he knows isn't real. "Freddy?" The red and black striped sweater, the top hat and that face appeared just beyond the shadows as the man himself stepped out from the darkness. Cashe let out a single laugh.
"Heh. Freddy fucking Krueger?" Cashe relaxed, a smile formed as he looked around at his 'dream state'. "I'm dreaming! So did you or Jason win at the end of your co-op? He had your head but you winke--"
That signature low crackle Freddy was known for catches Cashe off guard. Freddy steps around the foot of the bed, getting closer to Jason. His hand flings up showing his razor sharp fingered glove. "That's Dope!" There was an excitement in his voice but Freddy stared at him with widened eyes and that killer grin he has. Original Krueger, not that CGI fucker..
"You." Freddy's voice had a scratch to it as he pointed at Cashe with his index knife finger. Cashe was fanboying a little at this point. Great dream.
"Hey, I'm Cashe!" A signature introduction. Cashe offered a hand but Freddy stayed staring.
"It's your turn.. You will take over. The Dream Demons have selected you to.. replace me. You have a scornful past and they want you. I just need you to transfer the souls! Kill for us.."
This wasn't in any of the movies, what was going on? The long dead stare that Cashe offered him as he explained his reason for being there. A moment of silence fell over the room before Cashe burst with laughter. "You serious?! Hahahaha!"
"You know the horrors of a nightmare. The long nights. The sins you've committed have set ablaze to bridges, ended friendships, relationships. You are a nightmare in presence.. Look no further than those who seek to set you on fire like I once was.."
Freddy raises his gloved hand passed Cashe and again points. As Cashe turned around, his bedroom was no longer his room.
"So many playful nicknames. So many catchphrases and statements made about just how great the No Good Bastards are! I've heard them. I've even enjoyed them! I cannot tell you how cool I think TK is just on a far away glance! That mullet alone! Chewing gum is banging! But all of that is nice, it's entertaining in a world where entertainment is important. Look at XWF in general.. It's quite possibly the biggest thing in the business today! Talent oozes out of it's butt cheek pores. Literally shitting talent. In that fame though, you also see a lot of vanity..
Not saying you ain't as bad as you claim but boooys, oh boys, when you participate, you risk loss. Every Champion can be dethroned and even a Goat can faint and fall over. This is science, the sport, the competition and right now? We aim to be that small percentage, that shock value who does JUST that. Knives don't wear and tear from butter but you need to recognize the cheap leather steak in front of you. Sharpen your tools."
He was standing in the doorway of the front of his home. The door was open. "How did I get here?!" Cashe said with concern as he turned back to see that Freddy was pressed against him chest to back. His breath smelled like spaghetti and soul balls.
"Everyone you have ever crossed. Everyone who hates you, wants to see you lose. Those who seek to set you ablaze.. They will do so, so that you can accept what has been offered to you..."
Freddy's burnt voiced whisper gave Cashe a chill as he jumped away and turned to face Freddy. Cashe hadn't seen anyone outside the door. His interest was piqued. Backing through the doorway, Cashe was still watching Freddy but slowly looked over his shoulder.
"Thaaat's wrecked…" And it was. Like a lynch mob hunting down Frankenstein or, more fitting, Freddy Krueger. He recognized a lot of those standing about 30 yards away from the house. Old friends, past girlfriends, a few fiancees. There was even a burnt Short Bus back there. "Sheesh.. This IS a nightmare!"
Pushing through the crowd of his opposition. A massive man of animation, flickering like a glitch in the Matrix appears. Next to him was a guy with a shotgun and a dire need for some soul glow. "Those No Good Basta--" As he started to speak their names, they, together, as a team broke into a race towards the house. The crowd follows like a medieval war advancement. Cashe casually closes the door and turns to Freddy.
"Yeah, not really feeling this dream." He squeezes his eyes trying to change the scene. "Naked bitches with ooohh wee booties, naked bitches with ooohh wee booties!"
Freddy cackled loudly. Cashe kept his eyes closed. "How's this for a Wet Dream!"
"On behalf of the greatness of the Bastard, the glory of the Bastard, and the righteousness of the Rainbow Laser Death Sequence… I want to introduce myself properly. I might not be the baddest with brotherhoods and have people in the streets singing my praise. I'm just the stray that runs the block. My name you may or may not know. Some say I have a bad past, that I don't deserve redemption. I say, don't let my past be what makes you have issues. I'll gladly give you new reasons to dislike me when we take what you have. You stay confident. Stay arrogant and sure of yourselves. Hell, bring the whole team! B.O.B. let's get it!
You can bring a whole squad. XWF or OCW, I owe no loyalties to either. This isn't a war of companies, this will just be one with the four of us. Two sides, One victory. Sleep tight, hope the bed bugs bite.. Nightmare gets ya cause we are coming! October 10th. London."
Everything went quiet. Cashe felt a change in the air and as his eyes opened, another familiar smell filled his nose. His eyes shoot open in horror! "Bloody 'ell!"[/center] The room was filled with bodies. Like an orgy turned slaughterhouse. Why did he say bloody hell in a Cockney accent? Cashe was covered in blood himself as if he had done the deed himself, his hand was heavy. Lifting it, it had the glove fitted over it. "Psyche?"
His eyes drifted from body to body as faces became recognizable to him. The bright white face of his ex fiancee, Psyche Devyne, lay among them. As did every ex friend or relationship. Everyone that had been outside was now piled and laid about in his room. Dead. Sliced along throats and down rivers. He couldn't help but giggle a bit. Psyche stood out because Riddle and him had both been with her. Rivals, Friends, Brothers. Chemistry was built and stands present.
"Fuck them all.." Cashe couldn't find it in himself to have regret for any of their deaths. In fact his guilt came from not having any.
"Become a Beautiful Nightmare… Feel the power of what I offer you. The glove, how does it feel?"
Freddy's whisper returns as Cashe pulls off the glove and tosses it to the burnt face man in a red and black sweater.
"I'm good." Cashe shrugs. "More of a Michael Myers fan if I'm being honest. How I'ma get with the ladies if I look like that? Can I wake up now? This aint even scary, just a satisfaction I didn't know I'd wanted to see."
"Well then…" Freddy Krueger picks up his glove, it slides perfectly over his hand. "Welcome to Prime Time, Bitch!" He howls and leaps towards Cashe.
"Aaaaghh!!" He couldn't be proud of the shrill later. It was bad. Lunging backwards, Cashe lands on the bed. He scrambles and gets the covers over him as if they were a shield for protection. Freddy slashes through them with his claws..
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
His alarm went off, it was a whole new day. Cashe jolts awake on his bed, snapping around to see everything. It was all normal again. The morning sun brightened the room. His chest was jumping and falling with heavy breaths. Slowly he lets himself calm down and lays down on the bed again. Something was off though.. "What's this?"
Pulling on the sheet, there were four long slashes. His phone ringing makes him flinch, he misses the call and sees that he has 20 missed calls and texts. "Riddle…" Cashe hurries to make the call as his eyes scan his surroundings.
Cashe was sitting on the top layer in the sunken living area of his home. His phone was on speaker as he was looking at a note attached to some plastic wrap. "Same here. Tired but nothing special.. What did he say were in these brownies?" Cyrus Riddle or, so the name on the phone indicated asked. Cashe reading the note, names off a few of the ingredients.
"It's basically a cocktail of different shit. Supposed to have some Peyote, THC, and Psilocybe azurescens but I'm sure I butchered those words. I think they are mushrooms of the magic variety. I won't even pretend to pronounce this other shit.."
You hear some tsk sounds on the other line. "Well, that's a bloody drag innit?" Riddle's accent popped up from time to time.
"I'm just gonna call it a night. I'm tired, so at least it helped with that!"
You could hear Riddle yawning through the phone. "Same. We tried. This dream state stuff is hard!"
"Yeah, guess we'll just shoot on em the old fashion way. Drag them out to Sector 16 and bury them in the Hills!" Cashe, making a Hills Have Eyes reference. He crumbles the note and plastic, Cashe chucks it away. He was looking forward to hallucinating. "I'll catch up with you tomorrow."
Riddle responds. "Yeah.." He yawns, cutting himself off. "I'll be around.." Cashe hangs up first, pushing the red circle on his phone to end a call. Shaking off the daze that this brownie WAS giving him, that's all Cashe was experiencing as he stands to his feet. Wobbly as he holds his arms out for added balance.
"Whoa.. I'm getting a little Woozy here!" A play on the movie Scream. He laughed but it stumbled him up. Keeping himself upright, Cashe grabs a wall and heads around the corner. Down a hallway, he finds his bedroom and flops across the bed. He was out as soon as he landed.
======
"Before you repeat yourselves, no, we ain't a 'real' Tag Team. You are, though, and have been a dominant force. Nobody will be saying differently. I know people hang from the flex of your danglers, real heavy tug job, so I imagine the limp in your walk is real nice. The thing is Bastards? I could use a cane because the very second I came through the door, I was doing it with a pimp mentality. All you deep end swimmers are looking like Hoes to me and I brought the baby powder.
I'm not scared of you. I know that seems clichè and it probably has been said more times than you've heard gargling from the groupies on their knees, praying in front of you! I'm not a swallower of pride, I'm shallow, I barely have any pride to speak of but I AM a spitter. You spit just the same but what you spit seems to only scratch the surface. Let's get to know one another, yeah? Maybe you don't care to, maybe this is a stroll in the park to you, or at least, has been.. Until now. James Raven might have sent us to feed you but sometimes the beast over-eats and chokes on their next meal.."
======
One, Two, Freddy's Coming For Y--
"Huh?" Groaning as he rolls onto his back. Cashe was still laying across the bed. Covered in sweat, the bed was soaked where he had been laying. "Fuck, it's hotter than the Devil's Snatch in here…" His clothes were sticky, his shirt stuck against his chest like he went for a swim. It would be more visible had there been any light in the room. Only the dim glow of the moon pouring through his windows gave any line of sight.
3, 4 Better Lock Your Door..
A girl's voice sang. Snapping up, Cashe sits at the side edge of his bed. Still tired and soaked. "I always lock my doors! Who's there?" His vision blurry, he rubs his eyes and looks over at the digital clock on a night table. It didn't show a time, the clock had melted like a candle. "Boooshit.." There was a pitch to his voice as he sprang up from the bed. Something wasn't right. Sharply he scans the room, he could feel a presence. Then came a familiar smell.
"Bacon?" It wasn't as familiar as he initially thought. "No, melted plastic. What is that smell?" Being big on smells, it became more annoying that he couldn't place it than the whispering rhyme or the melted clock. A voice from behind him answers the mystery while revealing themselves in the process.
"Flesh. Burnt Flesh.."
Hitting a spin that would score high in Ice Skating, Cashe feels a chill glide over his skin as he stares at something he knows isn't real. "Freddy?" The red and black striped sweater, the top hat and that face appeared just beyond the shadows as the man himself stepped out from the darkness. Cashe let out a single laugh.
"Heh. Freddy fucking Krueger?" Cashe relaxed, a smile formed as he looked around at his 'dream state'. "I'm dreaming! So did you or Jason win at the end of your co-op? He had your head but you winke--"
That signature low crackle Freddy was known for catches Cashe off guard. Freddy steps around the foot of the bed, getting closer to Jason. His hand flings up showing his razor sharp fingered glove. "That's Dope!" There was an excitement in his voice but Freddy stared at him with widened eyes and that killer grin he has. Original Krueger, not that CGI fucker..
"You." Freddy's voice had a scratch to it as he pointed at Cashe with his index knife finger. Cashe was fanboying a little at this point. Great dream.
"Hey, I'm Cashe!" A signature introduction. Cashe offered a hand but Freddy stayed staring.
"It's your turn.. You will take over. The Dream Demons have selected you to.. replace me. You have a scornful past and they want you. I just need you to transfer the souls! Kill for us.."
This wasn't in any of the movies, what was going on? The long dead stare that Cashe offered him as he explained his reason for being there. A moment of silence fell over the room before Cashe burst with laughter. "You serious?! Hahahaha!"
"You know the horrors of a nightmare. The long nights. The sins you've committed have set ablaze to bridges, ended friendships, relationships. You are a nightmare in presence.. Look no further than those who seek to set you on fire like I once was.."
Freddy raises his gloved hand passed Cashe and again points. As Cashe turned around, his bedroom was no longer his room.
======
"So many playful nicknames. So many catchphrases and statements made about just how great the No Good Bastards are! I've heard them. I've even enjoyed them! I cannot tell you how cool I think TK is just on a far away glance! That mullet alone! Chewing gum is banging! But all of that is nice, it's entertaining in a world where entertainment is important. Look at XWF in general.. It's quite possibly the biggest thing in the business today! Talent oozes out of it's butt cheek pores. Literally shitting talent. In that fame though, you also see a lot of vanity..
Not saying you ain't as bad as you claim but boooys, oh boys, when you participate, you risk loss. Every Champion can be dethroned and even a Goat can faint and fall over. This is science, the sport, the competition and right now? We aim to be that small percentage, that shock value who does JUST that. Knives don't wear and tear from butter but you need to recognize the cheap leather steak in front of you. Sharpen your tools."
======
He was standing in the doorway of the front of his home. The door was open. "How did I get here?!" Cashe said with concern as he turned back to see that Freddy was pressed against him chest to back. His breath smelled like spaghetti and soul balls.
"Everyone you have ever crossed. Everyone who hates you, wants to see you lose. Those who seek to set you ablaze.. They will do so, so that you can accept what has been offered to you..."
Freddy's burnt voiced whisper gave Cashe a chill as he jumped away and turned to face Freddy. Cashe hadn't seen anyone outside the door. His interest was piqued. Backing through the doorway, Cashe was still watching Freddy but slowly looked over his shoulder.
"Thaaat's wrecked…" And it was. Like a lynch mob hunting down Frankenstein or, more fitting, Freddy Krueger. He recognized a lot of those standing about 30 yards away from the house. Old friends, past girlfriends, a few fiancees. There was even a burnt Short Bus back there. "Sheesh.. This IS a nightmare!"
Pushing through the crowd of his opposition. A massive man of animation, flickering like a glitch in the Matrix appears. Next to him was a guy with a shotgun and a dire need for some soul glow. "Those No Good Basta--" As he started to speak their names, they, together, as a team broke into a race towards the house. The crowd follows like a medieval war advancement. Cashe casually closes the door and turns to Freddy.
"Yeah, not really feeling this dream." He squeezes his eyes trying to change the scene. "Naked bitches with ooohh wee booties, naked bitches with ooohh wee booties!"
Freddy cackled loudly. Cashe kept his eyes closed. "How's this for a Wet Dream!"
======
"On behalf of the greatness of the Bastard, the glory of the Bastard, and the righteousness of the Rainbow Laser Death Sequence… I want to introduce myself properly. I might not be the baddest with brotherhoods and have people in the streets singing my praise. I'm just the stray that runs the block. My name you may or may not know. Some say I have a bad past, that I don't deserve redemption. I say, don't let my past be what makes you have issues. I'll gladly give you new reasons to dislike me when we take what you have. You stay confident. Stay arrogant and sure of yourselves. Hell, bring the whole team! B.O.B. let's get it!
You can bring a whole squad. XWF or OCW, I owe no loyalties to either. This isn't a war of companies, this will just be one with the four of us. Two sides, One victory. Sleep tight, hope the bed bugs bite.. Nightmare gets ya cause we are coming! October 10th. London."
======
Everything went quiet. Cashe felt a change in the air and as his eyes opened, another familiar smell filled his nose. His eyes shoot open in horror! "Bloody 'ell!"[/center] The room was filled with bodies. Like an orgy turned slaughterhouse. Why did he say bloody hell in a Cockney accent? Cashe was covered in blood himself as if he had done the deed himself, his hand was heavy. Lifting it, it had the glove fitted over it. "Psyche?"
His eyes drifted from body to body as faces became recognizable to him. The bright white face of his ex fiancee, Psyche Devyne, lay among them. As did every ex friend or relationship. Everyone that had been outside was now piled and laid about in his room. Dead. Sliced along throats and down rivers. He couldn't help but giggle a bit. Psyche stood out because Riddle and him had both been with her. Rivals, Friends, Brothers. Chemistry was built and stands present.
"Fuck them all.." Cashe couldn't find it in himself to have regret for any of their deaths. In fact his guilt came from not having any.
"Become a Beautiful Nightmare… Feel the power of what I offer you. The glove, how does it feel?"
Freddy's whisper returns as Cashe pulls off the glove and tosses it to the burnt face man in a red and black sweater.
"I'm good." Cashe shrugs. "More of a Michael Myers fan if I'm being honest. How I'ma get with the ladies if I look like that? Can I wake up now? This aint even scary, just a satisfaction I didn't know I'd wanted to see."
"Well then…" Freddy Krueger picks up his glove, it slides perfectly over his hand. "Welcome to Prime Time, Bitch!" He howls and leaps towards Cashe.
"Aaaaghh!!" He couldn't be proud of the shrill later. It was bad. Lunging backwards, Cashe lands on the bed. He scrambles and gets the covers over him as if they were a shield for protection. Freddy slashes through them with his claws..
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
His alarm went off, it was a whole new day. Cashe jolts awake on his bed, snapping around to see everything. It was all normal again. The morning sun brightened the room. His chest was jumping and falling with heavy breaths. Slowly he lets himself calm down and lays down on the bed again. Something was off though.. "What's this?"
Pulling on the sheet, there were four long slashes. His phone ringing makes him flinch, he misses the call and sees that he has 20 missed calls and texts. "Riddle…" Cashe hurries to make the call as his eyes scan his surroundings.
