Nightmare on Elm Street
woman.
NANCY I got him — I got Fred Krueger!
THOMPSON stares at his wild little girl in astonishment, then runs in after her. The others follow, coughing and choking.
203. INT. LIVING ROOM. NIGHT. 203.
THOMPSON collides with NANCY as she brakes, frozen. THE SMOKE IS BELCHING OUT OF THE CELLAR, but whoever was locked in there certainly isn’t now. The door is flat on the kitchen floor.
LT THOMPSON
What the hell are you talking about, Nancy?
NANCY wheels without answering. A series of tiny, isolated fires burn across the living room and up the stairs. Firesteps.
NANCY (CONTD)
He’s after Mom! Come on!
She darts across the living room, following the flaming footprints of FRED KRUEGER up the stairs before THOMPSON can stop her.
LT THOMPSON
NANCY!
204. INT. MARGE’S BEDROOM. NIGHT. 204.
NANCY STOPS IN THE SPLINTERED DOORWAY — a ragged gold-red light splashing her horrified face.
205. REVERSE IN HER POV — FRED KRUEGER, literally a man of fire, has 205.
a screaming MARGE pinned to the bed and is crawling all over her! NANCY gives a banshee’s howl, snatches up a chair and brings it down over the back of the firey beast, stunning him.
By the time LT THOMPSON races into the room NANCY’S seized a heavy blanket has thrown over both of them, fighting the flames. The father joins his daughter without a second thought, heaving
another blanket over the bed and smothering the last of the flames.
NANCY He’s under there! Watch it!
206. THOMPSON pushes the girl back — yanks out his .38 and pulls off 206. the first cover. No movement. He pulls back a second one,
ready to fire. But the only thing he sees is the blackened half-skeleton of his ex-wife, smoking and seething and sinking into the fluid-like mattress, sinking right down through it as if she were sinking into a lake. A blackened, gnarled hand goes last, then the bed solidifies over the place she’s disappeared. And it’s as if no one was ever there.
NANCY turns and looks at LT THOMPSON, her face white as her ghostly hair. THOMPSON shoves his .38 back in its holster and finds a cigarette, his hands shaking so badly he can barely manage.
NANCY
Now do you believe me?
PARKER barges in. The room is filled with smoke, the bed is stripped, but other than that, the place seems normal.
PARKER You find him?
(looking closer at THOMPSON) Sir?
LT THOMPSON just walks by him. PARKER chases after.
PARKER (CONTD OS)
(fading) Sir — here, let me light that for you — Lieutenant? What happened? (gone)
WIDER, ON NANCY alone in the room. She turns and looks at the
bed. MUSIC slips in and builds. The bed has changed color. It’s now an ash-darkened red and yellow.
207. CLOSER ON NANCY from the direction of the bed. MUSIC SUDDENLY 207. STOPS, and the surface of the red and yellow bed gets a bump in its center that keeps raising, raising until it’s a hump that’s a head and shoulders, still raising until it looms over NANCY.
Then FRED KRUEGER’s entire shape sweeps up into the yellow and red mass — and the garish head, smoking and seething, pops through.
NEW ANGLE — KRUEGER, a burned, sizzling black hump of a killer, clumps onto the floor between NANCY and the door.
NANCY falls absoltely still, and her face goes through a strange, almost sublime transformation.
NANCY (quietly) I know you’re there, Krueger.
She turns and faces him.
FREDDIE You think you was gonna get away from me?
NANCY shakes her head.
NANCY I know you too well now, Freddie.
KRUEGER smiles bitterly. Coming closer.
FREDDY
And now you die…
There’s a SLICKERING RATTLE at his side, and he raises the only thing on him not charred — the gleaming steel talons.
208. NANCY simply shakes her head again, as if seeing a light at the 208. end of her long, long tunnel. And the way she says the words, they might be appearing on the inside of her eyes.
NANCY It’s too late, Krueger. I know the secret now — this is just a dream, too — you’re not alive — the whole thing is a dream — so fuck off!
I want my mother and friends again.
KRUEGER grins insanely, confused and amused at the same time.
FREDDIE You what?
NANCY (even, firm) I take back every bit of energy I ever gave you. You’re nothing. You’re shit.
And then she turns her back on him. KRUEGER bunches his fingers, producing a single ragged bundle of razor talons and raises his hand over the back of her head and neck.
NANCY closes her eyes and steps to the door.
CLOSE ON HER HAND, touching the door knob.
CLOSE ON KRUEGER’S KNIFE-FINGERS poised.
MUSIC BUILDS then SHRIEKS as KRUEGER stabs down, right through NANCY — as if she were an optical illusion — loosing his balance and falling down, down, down… And he’s gone.
CUT TO:
209. EXT. ELM STREET. DAY. 209.
CLOSE ON NANCY’S FRONT DOOR AS NANCY jerks it open and blinks in
the bright, diffused light. The MUSIC FADES on a transitional note, into light.
We hear BIRDS.
CHILDREN playing.
Early morning SOUNDS.
NANCY (to herself) God, it’s bright.
MARGE sticks her head out, squinting, and nods. Sober.
MARGE Gonna burn off soon or it wouldn’t be so bright.
NANCY turns and looks her mother over.
NANCY Feeling better?
MARGE They say you’ve bottomed out when you can’t remember the
night before. (shakes her head) No more drinking, Baby, suddenly I just don’t feel like it any more.
She touches NANCY.
MARGE (CONTD) Didn’t keep you up last night, did I? You look a little peeked.
NANCY smiles.
NANCY Nah. Just slept heavy.
The girl gives a wave and goes off. MARGE calls after.
MARGE See ya.
NANCY turns and waves.
NANCY See ya.
210. WIDER ON NANCY as she walks to the curb. The whole scene is 210. wrapped in an unseasonal tule fog, bright yet diffuse. We notice
that NANCY’s house no longer has bars on its windows. Then we see a familiar convertible pull up at the curb, top down. TINA and ROD are in the back seat. They all wave to MARGE as NANCY climbs in.
GLEN (calling)
You believe this fog?
MARGE (laughs) I believe anything’s possible.
TINA slaps five with NANCY.
TINA Lookin’ good, girl!
ANGLE INSIDE THE CONVERTIBLE. GLEN slips into the seat next to NANCY. Someone else is driving, it seems. NANCY looks up to the DRIVER. The big MAN turns and grins at NANCY, a terrible,
scarred, hideous leer of a grin — FRED KRUEGER’S grin!
ANGLE BACK OUTSIDE THE CONVERTIBLE as its top clamps over the kids within — a bright red and yellow top that closes as fast and hard as a beartrap! NANCY’S frightened face flies to the window, pressing against the thick glass as the car roars away from the curb and into the thick fog.
211. CAMERA PANS TO a group of LITTLE GIRLS, half-hidden by the fog, 211. jumping rope and singing gayly.
