Freddy vs. Ash

by A. Eggleston

  Ashly Eggleston

  3920 Gordon St.

  Vernon, TX 76384

  (940) 839-7227

  misstry@sbcglobal.net

  Freddy vs. Ash

  A novel by A. S. Eggleston

  Approximately 150,000 words

  PROLOGUE

  CAMP CRYSTAL, 2003. Above the night sky was a sense of calm and peacefulness. The black night was illuminated by the light of the stars, and the full, silver, moon. It was a vision of pure, and absolute beauty.

  Below, was a battle between two raging behemoths, monsters of both the real and supernatural worlds. While it was only one-against-one in the fight, it was certainly a battle for the ages. One: A towering, unstoppable killing machine. A sick, twisted full-filler of vengeance. His name...Jason Voorhees. The other: A manipulator of nightmares, a dream demon, the ultimate seeker of revenge. The bastard son of a hundred maniacs.

  His name...Freddy Krueger.

  Somewhere, deep inside the torturous pit of Hell, these two wretched beings found each other. Freddy, despite the dark powers that enabled him to invade the dreams of children and murder them, had one weakness: If the children of Elm Street can forget about him, they can't fear him. If they no longer fear him, they can't dream about him. He can't return if nobody's afraid. Sure, being dead wasn’t a problem, but being forgotten...now that's a bitch.

  He needed someone, someone who'd make them remember. Someone dumb, easily manipulated, like that giant psycho-momma's boy, Jason. Freddy may have been able to get in Jason's head, and read him like a book, but he definitely underestimated his strength. No matter what his victims did, or tried to do, Jason always came back, and came for them.

  Their final battle took place at Crystal Lake, or Camp Blood, as those who lived to tell had called it. It was Jason's home. It was where he consumed the lives of his victims.

  Each had their own weapon of choice. For Jason, it was his machete: a blunt instrument used for decapitation, disemboweling, and impalement. For Freddy: It was a weapon he had constructed in the dark basement of the boiler room where he had worked. It was a copper-plated welding glove, with steel knives on each finger. It was perfect for

  torturing the little boys and girls he lured down there, and after he died...killing them in their dreams.

  The bright light of the moon reflected upon their weapons as Freddy and Jason raised them to the sky and hurled them at each other. They viciously stabbed and swung their

  blades as they fought on the dock of Crystal Lake.

  With each stab, with each puncture, with each flat-out punch and kick they hurled at one another, not only did they bleed profusely, but they were killing each other.

  Everywhere the two went, there was blood. The whole camp was stained with blood and guts. It was a vision of pure carnage. Freddy stabbed Jason in the eyes with his knives. Jason ripped Freddy's arm right out of its socket. Freddy would use Jason's own machete to slash him, stab him, and pierce it straight through Jason's black heart. Jason used his brutal force to jam his arm right through Freddy stomach. They were both soaked and dripping with each other's blood.

  Suddenly, the calm, black, waters of Crystal Lake was consumed by fire. The sheer force of the blast knocked Freddy and Jason off their feet and hurled them into the lake to be eaten by the flames. The fire rose, higher and higher as their bodies burned above the lake, and eventually drowned below. The black night was lighted by the bright, orange, glow of the fire. The flames were alive, as if they were dancing in celebration of the deaths of the two monsters.

  Jason: Drowned as a boy, and left for dead into the cold, dark, waters of the lake.

  Freddy: Burned alive at the hands of innocents for the sake of retribution.

  As they were in life, so shall they be in death.

  At least...That's what everyone had hoped for.

  Yes, they were dead...for now. Freddy and Jason's souls are being tormented in Hell. Just like they were, numerous times before. And just like before, something will bring them back. Jason will rise again with a couple of new scars as a memento, ready to strike

  the next batch of young camp counselors who dare step foot on his territory.

  As for Freddy... this time, he's not satisfied with just coming back for a while, killing a new crop of suburban brats, only to have some clever bitch send him back to Hell where he came from.

  No, not this time. He's the Springwood Slasher, after all. He lured countless children into his murderous lair, did foul and unspeakable things to them, and killed them. All the parents in the neighborhood gathered around the power plant and lit the whole building on fire. His sanctuary, his hiding place, his dungeon, was awash with flames. Krueger thought his time had come, when three Dream Demons appeared before him, and allowed him the opportunity to live in the nightmares of his victims. He lived off their fear and fed off their souls. But that was nothing compared to what he has in store this time.

  Since his plan with Jason had failed, Freddy devised a plot to go to the ultimate source of his evil power, and claim it for himself. It may take a while, but when he does, Freddy's going to find a way to be truly...eternal.

  His name is Ash, and he is the Chosen One--at least--that's what he's been told. Back

  in the day, Ashley J. Williams was just like any other guy. He had a medium-wage job as a stock boy, drove an old, broken down piece of machinery, and had a beautiful girlfriend, Linda.

  One night, Ash and Linda drove to a cabin in the mountains for the weekend.

  That was where his average, everyday, life had ceased.

  Beforehand, an archaeologist by the name of Professor Raymond Knowby had stayed there, in the cabin, to study his latest finds.

  Inside the ruins of the castle of Kandar, among his discoveries was the Necronomicon Ex-Mortis. Roughly translated: Book of the Dead. The book served as a passageway to the evil worlds beyond. Bound in human flesh, and inked in blood, this ancient Sumerian text contains bizarre burial rites, funerary incantations, and demon resurrection passages. It was never meant for the world of the living.

  Since finding the damned book, Ash has had every horrible and torturous thing imaginable done to him. Everyone around him had been possessed by the foul things that live inside the book. He's been forced to murder his loved ones, dismember their corpses, and bury them in shallow graves.

  The bastards even came for him. It got into his hand and it went bad, so he lopped it off at the wrist with a chainsaw. Even when Ash thought he had rid himself of the evil things, he was sent back in time to the Middle Ages, leading a war against an Army of Darkness. He managed to return to his own time, but not without a price. He left as normal, young, man, and came back as a hero. Chosen by destiny, and screwed by fate.

  After all this time, he now knows things that others cannot even comprehend. He knows that there is a living evil, a presence that lives not in the space that we live in, but beyond it. In the dark. In the night. And he cannot escape them. He tried to. Time and again, he tried to live as much of a normal life as he could. But wherever Ash goes, the Evil Dead follows. The spirits, or Deadites, as one would call them, are everywhere. They

  Eggleston / Freddy vs. Ash / 6

  harbor all kinds of demons, and they're the stuff nightmares are made of. They fester in the dark bowers of man's domain, waiting to be set free.

  Waiting to consume the souls of the living.

  Waiting...for someone to let them out.

  Chapter One

  Ash found himself in the heart of the desolate woods. He didn't know exactly where he was. He didn't know how he even got there. Then again, considering all of the head injuries he had sustained over the years, it was a wonder he could remember his name.

  This was just like any other night fo
r Ash: come home from work, hear from the locals about some poor sap going missing, and find himself in a place like this, to make sure the Deadite plague doesn't spread any further. This has been his life for the past thirty years. It's a noble job and everything to protect the innocent and all... Ash would often say to himself. but I wonder sometimes what life would have been like for me if I'd never gone to that blasted cabin. Linda and I were serious. Who knows? Maybe we would have

  gotten married, had a few kids, and lived happily ever after. But any prospects of that were dead and gone. Literally.

  Nowadays, Ash doesn't really have time for an exciting love life. Even if he did, he couldn't risk it. It seemed like everyone he ever cared about, everyone he was close to, died around him. He didn‘t want to risk getting his heart broken again. Again, very flattering to be the guy to rid the world of Deadites, but it still sucked sometimes.

  As he walked through the woods, Ash noticed something about his surroundings. Something about where he was...it just didn't seem normal. Of course, being miles away

  from town, looking for some possessed monster to hack off with a chainsaw wasn't very normal in the first place, but seemed like something was off. Ash looked up at the moon. It was full and glowing red. That was never good. A thick cover of fog surrounded him as he walked deeper into the woods. Even if the guy was here, Ash wouldn't be able to see him unless he was extremely close. And the trees...the trees just looked as if they were...staring right at him. As if they were monitoring and surveying him. The long, leafy branches looked like they were ready to completely engulf him.

  He slowly, and cautiously, walked past the thick tree trunks. He glided his hand against the bark, getting a feel for where he was going. He felt blinded by the dense fog around him. While the glow of the moon provided a somewhat ethereal ambience, it did nothing in terms of leading his path. As he walked past the trees, he heard a sound, like someone was walking beside him. He whipped his head to the side, waving the fog from in front of him. He didn't see anyone and continued walking. But, in the back of his mind, Ash could have sworn he saw something with red and green stripes hiding behind the tree

  a few yards away from him.

  Ash had been walking for quite some time now, ever since sundown it felt like. He was exhausted. Carrying a chainsaw on your right hand, and a double-barreled shotgun on your left was harder that it looked. Ash was tired of these games. They always hid in the corner, waiting to sneak up on him. Ash wanted them to just show up so they could die already. He put his shotgun back in his holster, and leaned back against the tree trunk behind him. He took just a few moments to relax, rest, and try to figure out where this demon could possibly be. Ash was breathing pretty heavily. Hunting down Deadites and sawing their limbs off was harder than it used to be. He wiped the sweat off his brow and mumbled, "Damn it, where are y-- Ack!"

  Before he could finish, he felt a pair of cold, grimy hands around his throat. They squeezed tighter and tighter, muffling Ash's screams. The hands belonged to a set of large and muscular arms, pushing Ash flat on the ground.

  It was him. The undead bastard waited for the perfect opportunity to rip through the fog and attack Ash as soon as he let his guard down. But the ugly, decayed, giant didn't account for one thing...

  Ash was the one with the chainsaw.

  As the demon chanted, "Join usssss! Join usssss!" Ash wasted no time reaching over and starting up his favorite weapon. He couldn't afford to goof around, as he was losing air fast. That's right, he didn't need reload a chainsaw. He pulled the recoil as hard as he could.

  rrrrrrr... Nothing. He pulled it once more.

  rrrrrrr... Nothing, again.

  He did, however, need to refuel a chainsaw.

  Well, this is just great. Ash was slowly losing consciousness, he was being choked out by some rotted demon who weighed about two tons. He tried one last time. "Come on!" he said, his voice was scratchy.

  RRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRR!!!

  Finally! Ash grinned from ear to ear. He directed his attention to the living undead hovering over him. "Hey buddy," he said, his voice still raspy. "Your insides could use

  some arranging!" He rammed his chainsaw right into the guy's stomach and though his spine, shredding his guts away. The living corpse shook and convulsed as the chainsaw cut through his stomach and chest. Blood sprayed in every direction, causing Ash's face and body to be covered in thick, gooey, redness. "Who's laughing now, huh?! Ha ha ha ha ha!"

  Once the monster was completely disemboweled, Ash threw him off and got back on his feet. He studied him for a second, already smelling the rotting guts that were now exposed to the air. He looked at all of the blood and intestines that spilled over the creature. Ash would be lying if he said he didn't take a little pride in his work. He pulled out his shotgun and aimed it at the guy's head. If there's one thing he knew about Deadites, it's that they always like to come back for one last scare. The creature's eyes were blank white, looking and nothing and everything at the same time. He was still...for a minute.

  He jerked his head up and reached for Ash, when his entire head suddenly exploded

  from the impact of the shotgun blast. He was finally dead. Grey smoke rose from the barrel. Ash nonchalantly blew it away, spun the gun once with his thumb, and placed it back in the holster.

  Ash turned and walked away. Now, he could return back home, and grab a cold beer that had his name on it.

  Snap!

  What was that? Ash looked around. There was no one there. Must have been a squirrel or something. He carried on and continued walking, wiping the blood off his face. He didn’t want to drive back to town covered in blood, and carrying an arsenal of weapons. Probably best not to cause any suspicion.

  Snap! Snap!

  Just keep walking. Ash couldn't let his paranoia control him. Besides, he was almost to his car: A 1973 Delta 88 Oldsmobile. The Classic, as he liked to call it. Even though it had been wrecked a few dozen times, it still managed to take him where he needed to go. He opened up the trunk, and unlocked his chainsaw from his arm, and set it inside. He slammed the trunk closed, and headed for the door.

  Almost there.

  "Aaaaaaaaah! Hhhhha ha ha ha ha! Ashhhhhhh! Join usssssssss!"

  He whipped around and saw bodies coming from everywhere. Rising from the dirt, emerging from within the woods, they were even up high, hiding in the branches of the trees. They were disgusting and decrepit. Their faces were locked in permanent, demented smiles. Ash quickly reached for his shotgun and opened up the barrel to reload. He

  grabbed two shells from his shirt pocket. Several hands rose from the dirt, grabbing Ash by the ankles and knocking him down.

  They all surrounded him in a circle, hovering over him, and reached down to scratch his flesh. He could hear their demonic chant, "Join usssss! Join usssss!" This had never happened before. Ash was completely powerless, there were too many of them. He did all he could, he tried to break away, but they kept pulling him back. He saw that his shotgun had landed next to him. He managed to grab it, replace the shells, and cock it in a matter of seconds.

  BOOM!

  One down.

  He then aimed for one that was about to reach over to his leg, and take a bite of his flesh.

  BOOM!

  Another one down. But they still swarmed, and he was out of bullets. All he could do was just punch and kick the living hell out of them. "Get off of me!" he yelled. They just kept coming for him, holding him down so he couldn't move. "When will you stop torturing me like this?!" he howled. Suddenly, mere inches from his face, was another disfigured creature.

  It was small, female, with little blonde pigtails. This horrible monster used to be a sweet, little girl. Her face showed nothing but evil, and a lust for blood. She spoke to him, replying to his cries of terror, "We will not stop until you set him free!" She opened her mouth wide, revealing a set of sharp fangs for teeth. Black blood came pouring out of her

  mouth, she stuc
k out her tongue. It was long, green, and absolutely disgusting. She laughed. Her voice quickly changed from that of a little girl, to something low, guttural, and evil. "Haaa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!" Her face and body morphed. Her skin was no longer pale and smooth. It appeared to be burned, with scars everywhere and fleshy sinews hanging from her face. She no longer looked like herself. It was now someone completely different. It was a man. The same man wearing the red and green stripes on his shirt from before.

  Ash shouted at the disfigured man. “Who the hell are you?!”

  He quickly lunged towards Ash, wearing what looked like knives on his fingers…

  Ash screamed at the top of his lungs. He feared for his life. “No! No!”

  The four blades were now inches from his eyes.

  "Aaaaaah! Aaaaaah!" Ash screamed until he gasped for breath. He found himself sitting up, back in his own bed. It was all just a dream. "I'm fine now." he said, reassuring himself. "It was just a bad dream,"

  He felt a sharp pain run across his right arm. He looked at it. There were scratch marks on it. Some of them had blood seeping from the wounds. He was now unsure of himself. "or maybe it wasn't."

  Ever since he came to Springwood, things just got even stranger. He figured, "I'll get out of Michigan for a while, rent a house for cheap, rid this town of its Deadites, do my heroic job, move on somewhere else. Like I always do." But something wasn't right about this house. He couldn't believe he got something this nice for so cheap: Two stories, three bedrooms, huge kitchen. It even had a basement to keep all of his gear in. Of course, he assumed something bad had to have happened at 1428 Elm Street, but it's not like Ash wasn't equipped to handle a haunted house. But still, something about this place just gave him a bad feeling.

  Ash laid back down, but he certainly didn't go back to sleep.

  Chapter Two