75-76

*Chapter 75: Gathering Together *

“If Freddy was burned to death by angry parents twenty years ago…”

Closing the file in his hands, Agent Zhou’s gaze shifted to the photograph Amanda was holding. He couldn’t help but speak.

“Then why did he wait twenty years to exact revenge on the residents of Springwood?”

Most of the parents who had decided to burn Freddy back then had already moved away from Springwood. If revenge was the motive, Freddy’s timing seemed unusually delayed.

“Who knows?”

Amanda had no answers to Agent Zhou’s question.

“That’s something you’d probably have to ask Freddy himself to find out.”

“Does he even count as human anymore after coming back to life?”

Hearing Amanda’s response, Agent Zhou raised an eyebrow and looked calmly at the photograph.

Inside the police station, as the two discussed Freddy, the door to the records room swung open. The sheriff entered, glancing at Amanda and Agent Zhou before speaking.

“There’s been another incident, you two!”

---

“I only learned about it during my morning patrol.”

At Nancy’s home on Elm Street, the sheriff glanced at the girl, trembling and huddled in a corner. He turned to Amanda and reported.

“Apparently, Nancy’s been in this state since last night. Her mother approached me, hoping I could do something to help.”

“I was at a loss—I’m just the town sheriff, not a doctor. Initially, I planned to help Nancy’s mother take her to a nearby clinic until I heard one name from her…”

“…Freddy.”

When the sheriff spoke the name that had haunted Springwood for twenty years, his expression grew noticeably heavier. Looking at Amanda and Agent Zhou, he continued in a solemn tone.

“Now, what’s happening in Springwood is beyond what I, as a small-town sheriff, can handle. I need your help to deal with everything that’s unfolding here.”

“For the record, we don’t assist in cases; we take over entirely, except in special circumstances,” Agent Zhou responded coolly to the sheriff’s plea for help.

“You’ve already done a great job, Sheriff,” Amanda said, retracting her gaze from the trembling girl in the room. She offered the sheriff a reassuring nod.

“Next, I’ll need your help to gather all the kids in town who’ve experienced nightmares, just like Nancy.”

Although Amanda only knew fragments of Freddy’s history—primarily the case from twenty years ago—there was a troubling commonality.

From the first suicide, Duncan, to Dick’s death in his bed, and even from Nancy’s account, one consistent detail emerged.

Nightmares. Every child associated with Freddy had suffered relentless torment from nightmares before their deaths.

While such a coincidence might be dismissed as insufficient evidence in a regular case, in the realm of supernatural events, it was enough for Amanda to draw a conclusion.

After all, her experience with the Arthur case in New York had already shown her the bizarre and illogical nature of supernatural forces.

If merely wearing a clown mask could drive those who looked upon it into fits of laughter, then Freddy’s connection to nightmares didn’t seem so far-fetched.

The supernatural was beyond the bounds of conventional logic—a lesson Amanda had learned all too well during her encounter with the wolf-girl in Texas.

---

“I’ve gathered all the kids on Elm Street who’ve experienced nightmares, just as you requested.”

Back at the police station, the sheriff brought a group of anxious teenagers into the building.

“Nancy?!”

The kids exclaimed when they saw Nancy.

“We thought you were already…”

When the sheriff first rounded them up, they’d begun piecing things together. Duncan’s suicide and Dick’s death had left them all deeply uneasy, fearing they might be Freddy’s next target. Not seeing Nancy among them had led them to assume she’d met the same fate as Dick.

“Freddy’s already come for me,” Nancy admitted.

Thanks to Amanda’s reassurance, Nancy had managed to break free from the worst of her initial terror. Though she no longer curled up in fear, her face still bore traces of dread as she recalled Freddy’s chilling words in her nightmare.

“…”

Hearing Freddy’s name from Nancy’s lips silenced the group once more.

To them, Freddy’s name was a horrifying taboo.

Whenever they closed their eyes, his laughter echoed in their dreams, accompanied by the grating sound of his clawed hands scraping closer.

“I don’t think I need to explain why the sheriff brought you all here.”

Amanda’s voice broke the silence as her gaze swept over the group of kids, her expression growing graver.

There was no doubt—they were all potential targets of Freddy.

“I’ve contacted headquarters, but reinforcements will take time to arrive,” Agent Zhou reported, shaking his head grimly upon returning from outside the station.

As a newly established division, the Bureau of Supernatural Investigations (BSI) was still in its infancy, relying heavily on FBI support to function. Yet tensions between the BSI and the FBI had already surfaced during the “Clown Shooting” case.

“For now, it looks like we’re on our own.”

Amanda didn’t seem surprised by Agent Zhou’s report.

She had already sensed the FBI’s subtle hostility toward the BSI. As a former patrol officer recently transferred from Texas, Amanda knew she couldn’t resolve interdepartmental conflicts alone.

Rather than hope for reinforcements to save them, she focused on surviving the night.

Moreover, regarding the supernatural events plaguing Springwood, Amanda doubted any outside help would change much.

In fact, even if reinforcements arrived, they might only add to the casualty count.

---

End of Chapter  

*Chapter 76: Protection*

Late at night, in the small-town police station.

Dim lights flickered eerily, casting shifting shadows that stretched across the station, creating an interwoven, unsettling scene.

"Yawn~"

Sitting in a chair, Amanda let out a wide yawn as a wave of deep fatigue washed over her.

“Now’s not the time to fall asleep, Amanda.”

She slapped her cheeks lightly, chasing away the drowsiness that was trying to take hold.

Amanda bit her tongue gently, forcing herself back to full alertness. She looked around the police station, her gaze falling on the equally tired faces of the others. Quickly, she issued a stern warning.

“Whatever you do, don’t fall asleep. If you notice anyone starting to drift off, wake them up immediately.”

Amanda’s words jolted the weary officers in the station into a more conscious state.

They widened their eyes and glanced at one another, making a visible effort to stay awake.

“So, this is our strategy to fight Freddy?”

“Gather everyone together and stay awake?”

Agent Zhou, noting the officers’ reactions, voiced his doubts to Amanda.

“I’ve spoken to the kids,” she replied.

“Both Dick, who’s already dead, and Nancy, who survived an attack, had their nightmares about Freddy at night. This suggests that, at least for now, Freddy can only invade dreams during nighttime. If we can just make it through tonight, we can at least ensure there won’t be another victim of Freddy’s nightmare.”

The involvement of supernatural forces had rendered many conventional investigative methods ineffective.

Amanda couldn’t speak with certainty, relying instead on the scattered clues they’d gathered during the investigation in town to piece together a rough hypothesis.

As a newly established department, BSI (Bureau of Supernatural Investigations) was still inexperienced in dealing with such cases.

Many of their investigative techniques were rooted in traditional practices. While effective in ordinary cases, these methods fell short when confronted with entities like the Joker in New York or the supernatural occurrences in Springwood.

One couldn’t expect these supernatural forces to conveniently leave helpful evidence at the crime scene every time.

If they followed standard procedures, Dick’s death on Elm Street would likely be classified as either a cold case or a miscarriage of justice.

After all, in the real-world legal system, you could never convict someone based on evidence from a dream.

This thought gave Amanda some insight into why the FBI exhibited such hostility toward BSI’s establishment and existence.

The FBI’s investigative processes were, at least for now, still bound by federal law.

BSI, however, was already showing signs of operating outside those boundaries. If BSI were to grow and expand, it would undoubtedly pose a significant threat to the FBI’s investigative authority.

Shaking her head, Amanda dismissed her thoughts about federal politics.

BSI might hold great potential for the future, but it offered no immediate help for the crisis they faced in Springwood.

Rather than worrying about BSI’s future, she focused on the more immediate challenge of surviving the night.

“Let’s hope my judgment isn’t wrong,” she muttered under her breath.

Amanda glanced at the clock in the police station.

3:27 a.m.

There were roughly three hours left until sunrise.

…

"Yawn~"

“Maybe the next script should take place during the day,” Zhao Yuan murmured in a hotel prepared by the Writers Guild of America for the strike.

Watching Amanda on the system screen made him yawn as well.

“Also, designing a story that’s a little less terrifying might be a good way to reset my mind and body,” he added, pouring himself a glass of water to settle his scattered thoughts.

When Allen first chose to experiment with the system’s evolution feature using horror-themed scripts, he was influenced by the impact of his previous script, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and his personal fondness for the genre. Naturally, horror became the main framework for the system’s script evolution.

This framework was akin to defining the genre of a movie, novel, or comic.

Once decided, it was challenging to make fundamental changes.

You couldn’t expect a single movie to encompass every genre—it would inevitably fail.

Unless, one day, Zhao Yuan had a sudden change of heart and grew tired of horror, choosing instead to focus on sweet, romantic storylines.

At that point, the world—especially America—might become filled with “love.”

For now, though, he had no intention of sprinkling love everywhere.

Although he wouldn’t stray far from horror as the main theme of the system’s script evolution, he considered incorporating other elements into the narratives.

After all, even horror films weren’t entirely about scares and gore; some included unique subplots or side stories.

Ideas for new scripts and storylines began to take shape in Allen mind as he let his thoughts wander.

His attention, however, remained fixed on the system screen and the unfolding events in Springwood.

…

Tick, tock. Tick, tock—

Springwood, Elm Street Police Station.

As the night deepened, the heavy darkness engulfed the small-town police station.

The entirety of Elm Street was pitch black, with the police station’s dim lights standing out as a faint, lonely beacon in the void.

Inside the station, several kids brought together by the police chief had grown noticeably quieter.

They stared at each other in silence, their expressions of fear gradually giving way to the overwhelming weight of exhaustion.

Even though they knew falling asleep could plunge them into Freddy’s terrifying nightmare, they seemed powerless against the mounting drowsiness.

“Stay awake—don’t sleep…”

A boy noticed his friend nodding off and quickly shook him awake.

“Thanks, Crane.”

The boy, who had almost fallen asleep, snapped his eyes open and gave his friend a grateful look.

“No problem,” Crane said with a shrug. He blinked his own heavy eyes and glanced at the clock in the station. “Less than two hours left. Once the sun comes up, we’ll be safe.”

Though his words were meant to reassure, the drowsiness on Crane’s face grew even more apparent.

Sitting in a chair, his head bobbed up and down, teetering on the edge of sleep.

---

*End of Chapter*