about me.

Hey, I'm Mark Davis. I grew up in Springwood, Ohio, home of the notorious "Springwood Slasher," Fred Krueger, the child murderer that a bunch of parents burned alive... But he was so evil, and nothing that evil stays dead for long. He came back for revenge in our nightmares. My brother Bobby told me a lot, he told me it's our fear that gives him his power. So I figured, that's how the town decided to beat him. They treated him like he was a fucking.. disease, and locked up all the kids who had come in contact with Freddy, we're institutionalized in the Westin Hills Psychiatric Hospital, so we wouldn't infect the others. My proof? When we, myself and my roomie, Will Rollins broke out of the facility, we found the archives of the Springwood Library where hundreds of articles, mainly obituaries had been completely blacked out, including the day my brother "committed suicide." Coincidence? Will tried to tell me not to jump to conclusions, but he was just holding onto that psycho-babble bullshit we learned in group like some kind of goddamn security blanket. In Westin, we were taking these drugs called Hypnocil, they wouldn't tell us what that shit does but I've recently learned that it's a dream suppressant. Keep dreaming, they made you take more. Take too much of it and you turn into a vegetable that foams out the mouth and end up in the D-wing of the hospital ... I made Will promise to put a pillow over my face if I ever turned out like that, and I'd do the same for him. I've developed something of a nervous twitch in my eye, along with thick brown bags under both my eyes from lack of sleep, because I refuse to give in. I'm not going to let this crispy fucker get me, and I'd never do anything to help him, he'd have to kill me first.

My name is Mark.

and I am


Westin Hills, 2000

Notice: Posting in this blog is restricted to Mark and Will Only. This will act as a prequel to Freddy vs. Jason, introducing the characters to each other. The language and details will be rated R. DO NOT COPY.


On the early morning of January 18th, 2000, a young distraught boy named Mark stood in the hospital entrance, next to an officer, whose look of annoyance could only have been brought on by this little walk-through preventing him of getting donuts anytime sooner. There was an orderly standing there as well, a guy who looked Mark over and probably wrote him off as another dumbass suicidal kid, which couldn't be farther from the truth. In fact, Mark wasn't suicidal at all. He actually wanted to live his life with his parents, but his brother, Bobby, had just committed suicide that a few hours before... or so that's what his death was called. Mark knew otherwise. He'd been having nightmares about Freddy for years, and now Mark was being prayed upon just as Bobby had been. He knew the truth, and Mark wasn't suicidal, but try telling these people that while with a wrist more scratched up than a damn cat-post... The four slashes on his arm were still fresh and bleeding, but had gone without stitches, Probably because the doctors felt no need to waste their time on a possible suicide case, he figured.

Mark was to be the newest addition to the line-up of teenage psychotics, put on suicide watch at ol' Westin Hills. Here not even ten minutes and he was already thinking this was a baaaad fucking idea. A year later, he would honestly ask the difference between this hellhole, and prison. If he would have known it was such a trap, he might have taken a bigger breath of fresh air while he had the chance. He followed the orderly with the police officer, who would pretend that Mark was miles away as he stood there, and as they chuckled and made fun of him right to his face. This was typical, and Mark didn't feel up to defending himself right now. What they were saying was probably true anyway. No, at this moment, Mark was too fucking tired to do anything, it was amazing that he was even able to walk at this point.

He himself didn't know exactly how many days he had been awake, too many to fucking count by this point. A patch of his hair had lost pigment and he had been wearing the same ratty coat for weeks. The skin under his eyes looked almost bruised it was so dark with luggage, and he did infact have some red scratch marks on his face, which one could only guess were made by Mark slapping himself to stay awake when all else failed. Looking kind of on the thin side, his recent diet consisted of water, coffee without any added ingredients... Sure, he'd take bites of a baked potato every once in awhile, but not really enough to survive on. His skin had grown horribly pale and his right eye had began to twitch nervously, with no signs of stopping, which was annoying as could fucking be.

The night before was the first time in a long time Mark had made the nearly-fatal mistake of falling asleep, if even for only a moment. It resulted in the wounds on his arm, and he considered himself lucky for that,... Not that he had been cut, but the fact that he lived to tell how the accident happened. Accident? My ass. No one would believe him anyway, but come on, for someone who is supposedly suicidal, that was one bad slash job. Mark was led into the main room, some either retards or seriously medicated fuckwads would be wandering by him, one ranted about a fucking bunny stalking his bed. Down the hall he heard god-awful screams, and looked to see a bunch of rooms, all with wide opened doors, except for one. That must be where the screams were coming from... This, is just.. Great....

"Mark? Mark Davis?" A nurse called out
No answer from him.
"Wow, you look like you haven't slept for days!"
"Weeks.." He finally spoke up in a strained voice.
".. Uh huh." She said in disbelief, since Mark was such a big liar. Fuck, look at him! isn't that proof enough?
"Well I was told to put this band on you," She held out a white medical bracelet. Mark always liked these things to be honest, but two years later he'd grow to fucking hate it. "Which arm?"
Mark held out his right. White blood-seeping bandages were barely visible under the sleeve of his extra-large and extra dark black coat. She slapped the band on his wrist hard and fast, it hurt like hell and snagged a hair, but his yelp she didn't seem to notice, or if she did, she surely didn't care.
"Well,... We don't ALLOW.. COATS. So this will have to go. T-shirts only." She said in a very rude voice, gesturing to his jacket.
"Uh..?" Mark gestured to the crazies walking by, in sweatshirts and robes. Off-white and ugly as hell, sweatshirts none the less.
"Oh, well, if you get cold, a robe will be provided to you. But until then, you are required to change your home clothing and leave it at the front desk. Clothes have been provided for you, in room 323."
"All white?" His voice was nothing short of disappointment.
"Well, you COULD wear a hospital gown, light blue and bunnies on it!"
"..Fuck that.

Room 323 was home sweet home for those who are psychotic. Mark was looking down at the neatly folded off-white sweat-pants on his bed, which was basically a fucking ironing board with a midget pillow and a blanket over it. Beside the pants, a pair of white socks, a way-too-thin white short-sleeved shirt and a way too big white sweat shirt. Too hot or not, he'd complain of being too cold just to get a coat to hide under. At least he would have a room to himself.

"You will be getting a roommate soon enough!" The bitch announced. God damnit. "A young man named William Rollins, he's got the same problem you do."
"What problem?" He asked curiously with just a hint of sarcasm.
She ignored him. "There's also a list of rules you must follow. If you do not, the punishment will be MOST severe!" Her voice echoed in his mind. He hadn't even known five minutes and he could already tell she was a BITCH. "Understand, Mark, we want to HELP YOU. But, you HAVE TO WANT TO BE HELPED FIRST!!!!"
... Great, hey aren't the patients supposed to be the FUCKING INSANE ONES?

Soon he was left by his lonesome, but even then felt as if he were being watched. Looking around, he investigated the door to his room, big and had a window right in the center of it. He also noticed that, they didn't close all the way. It looked like they only moved passed a certain point if they were forced to, probably for some kind of lock-down situation, alike the screamer he had heard before. Awesome ... There is nothing better than knowing someone could just walk in and stare at you while you sleep.

He left his room and walked up to the front desk to get a look at these supposed rules. The rules were on the huge front banner that all patients were required to read, it stated the following:

"Welcome patient, to Westin Hills; Psychiatric Hospital.


1: Behavior: You shall remain CALM and still as stone at ALL times! Any hyper or aggressiveness will get you locked in the quiet room, or confide to your own room until breakfast the next morning! No YELLING. No RUNNING. No LAUGHTER or making LOUD NOISE of any kind of it will be taken as a THREAT! Any fast movement will NOT be tolerated at WESTIN HILLS! ANY ATTACKS made will also insult in being strapped to your bed and strapped down while being sedated by needle. You will awake the next morning, calmly and refreshed!

2. Clothing: YOU ARE TO WEAR OUR SPECIFIC CLOTHING AT ALL TIME! No home clothes! No t-shirts with designs or multi-colors! No jackets or shoes! No clothes with STRINGS! You are to wear a hospital gown, or WESTIN HILLS white sweat shirt, sweat pants, white socks and a white shirt, which are to be changed DAILY (YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR WASHING YOUR OWN CLOTHES!) If it gets too cold for you, a hooded sweat shirt shall be provided, but until and unless that time occurs, NO COATS ALLOWED!

3: Meals: BREAKFAST, LUNCH, SNACKS AND DINNER WILL BE SERVED AT SPECIFIC TIMES ONLY. If you miss your meals then you will just have to starve. You may not eat meals without completely washing first, and if any food spills on your clothes you will go unfed for the rest of the day! Your meals will be chosen for you and you will finish your trays or skip a meal for the day. NO SODA! NO DEW! NO COOKIES! NO CANDY! You will be given fruit and health food ONLY! Schedule for meals can be found listed below:
Breakfast - 9:00 AM
Lunch - 12:15 PM
Snack - 6:30 PM
Dinner - 8:00 PM


5. Accessories: Those with glasses will be given soft contact lenses, you will have to hand in your glasses and retainers and/or false teeth and hearing aids! All nail polish must be REMOVED, and your nails filed and cut down SHORT! As for Shaving, ONCE a month you will be granted a plastic razor (A nurse will be nearby while use) and you will be granted to shave excess hair off, DRY ONLY!

6: Entertainment Room: GOOD BEHAVIOR and OBEYING the RULES will grant you ENTERTAINMENT ROOM time. You will only be allowed access to this room for FIVE HOURS a day, FIVE DAYS a week! In this room you may play cards, socialize with other patients, play board games, read books, and watch T.V! (Selected channels ONLY, Soap Operas, News, sometimes, and NASCAR!)

7: Medication: MEDICATION WILL BE GIVEN AT 8:30 PM EXACTLY, after you have had time to digest your well-made dinners. You will get in line as your name is called at the front desk and take all required medications, along with two cups of water. An advising Doctor will be standing nearby to insure that all medication has been swallowed before you will be allowed to leave.

8: Visitor rights: You may only have ONE visitor at a time! Visitors may only be someone OF RELATION to the patient! They may only come THREE TIMES a week! They may only STAY for ONE HOUR at a time! VISITORS may only come if the PATIENT as followed the rules! You may also contact your visitors by PHONE (NO CELLPHONES! You may use the payphones TWICE daily for up to 15 minutes at a time!) and INTERNET once a MONTH, NO VISITING WEBSITES! NO INSTANT MESSENGERS!

9: Group: Three times a day we will be having GROUP SESSIONS, and ALL DAY on WEEKENDS! You will be expected to attend each group and gradually get BETTER as the medication will be HELPING TO GUIDE YOU. YOU MUST AGREE WITH the selected Therapist for EACH GROUP as they are RIGHT and you are WRONG because you are the PATIENT in NEED of MEDICAL HELP!

10: Discharge: UNDERSTAND, it will be up to US to decide WHEN YOU ARE BETTER and READY TO LEAVE. We are professionals and you can only trust us to know when you are mentally ready to leave! If you must, you can stand in line to look out the window in the Entertainment Room for up to five minutes at a time however!

As a Patient you are expected to follow all these rules. If you at any time choose to disagree with any one of these rules, the punishment shall be very rash and you will spent a lot of time alone, in the quiet room, being studied and given experimental medication to make you think otherwise so this situation will never occur again! "

Mark gave the rules a once over and sighed. For an instant he wondered if he had bled to death and this was his own personal Hell? You know what? Quite fucking possibly. That damn nurse was at his door knocking before he had really been given the chance to do anything.

"Oh, no, no, no Mark, you are to CHANGE your clothes, and bring them to the front desk."
".. I know that, I was just reading the rule sheet."
"Well, you need to do that later. Right now you just need to change."
"..I'm, going to .."
"Just change your clothes and bring them--"
"I got it. Thanks."
"Don't forget to read the rule banner!" With that, she left his sight again. Probably to stand aside and pop back in like some kind of fucking android to say that all again, in the exact same tone, in the next thirty seconds.
"Come the fuck on.." Mark muttered under his breath. He wasn't in the mood for this shit. His brother was dead. This was his parents "solution" to protect him. Fuck this place...

Still, there was no escape. Off would come the coat, Mark winced as he had to pull his arm out of the sleeve. The bandages were loose and one single drop of blood leaked slowly down his arm. He figured fuck it, they wouldn't care to help him anyway, and just wiped it off with his coat, pressing the bandages on for a hopeful tighter stick. Time to get changed. Bare socks touched the marble floor of the halls, above them the long legs of his loose off-white sweats, and a sweatshirt that hung off him like a potato sack on a broom being used for a scarecrow. Mark stood outside his room and just as predicted, there was Satan, that fucking nurse, waiting for him to follow through with her fucking simple directions.

"Well, now you just look right at home don'tchu!"
"I'm still kind of cold, actually." It wasn't a total lie, it was cold as winter inside this building, obviously they didn't have any opened windows to get the hot temperature that existed outside these walls.
"Oh, well, I'm sure you'll be fine."
".. I'm cold. I think I'd like a robe."
"No, you can--"
"I said get me a damn robe!"
The Nurse looked shocked as could be, as if such language had never entered her ears before. That look of shock only turned into an evil glare as she suddenly let out a roar of "PATIENT DAVIS IS ATTACKING!!!!"
"..What?" Mark had dropped his clothes to the floor, and was holding his sore ear lobe." "I didn't--"

Before Mark knew it, he was being attacked by two men in dark red scrubs, one grabbed his arm, blood seeped through the sleeve of his white shirt which he would later get in more trouble for, fucking great.

"Hey let go of me! Fuck!! Ow! I didn't do anything! I just got here for fucks sake!" Mark tried to explain to them, as they dragged him back into his room, throwing him roughly onto that piece of fucking wood they tried to claim was his bed, and strapping him down by his wrists and ankles. 
"What-- Dude come on! I-- AHHH!!!" He hadn't even felt the poke of the needle in his neck until it was too late. I guess Mark had been a little pre-occupied with what being manhandled by two huge demons, for all he knew. The bitch of a nurse had filled a syringe up of god-knows-what and stuck it right into his neck. Blood spurted when the needle came out, to which she quickly held a piece of gauze.

"Now you see, that was uncalled for, Patient Davis. You should have just read the rule-sheet to begin with." The nurse chimed in with her bitchy smile.
" ... Fuck you."
"Oh, none of that. Not anymore. Welcome to Westin Hills, Mark. You're going to be here for a very long time. Until we decide you are ALLLLLL BETTERRRRR."

The nurse nodded to the two men, who left the room as she followed. She inserted a key that allowed the door to shut completely, and then locked what sounded like three completely different locks. The bitches face smiling at the window was the last thing Mark saw before his eyelids felt heavy, and soon he was surrounded by darkness.... Westin Hills. Home for the mentally insane...

"I thought we were supposed to be MAINTAINING sanity in this place..?!!" He yelled out loud.

He was drowsy now.. Slipping into deep sleep... 

....The sound of rusty but sharp blood-covered knives clinging against a metal surface was suddenly heard, followed by a familiar laugh that Mark feared, and now would have no choice but to face. There was darkness no more, but glows of red from the fires revealing to be a nasty old boiler room. And there in the barely visible, a dirty old glove with four long blades attached to each finger grabbed onto a metal pole, as the fiend in blood red and dark green stripes swung around, to face Mark, and behind that burnt skin, he began to smile.

"Well now," He raised and flicked his glove, it was still dripping fresh blood off the tips of the knives. "Where were we?" 

It truly was a nightmare, just like in real life, Mark was strapped down the entire time. He was totally defenseless against Freddy... and yet, he was still alive. Why? Because killing him would be too easy. Freddy chose to instead toy with him, a little scratch here or there just to fuck him over before--

Freddy was gone! It was as if Mark just vanished! The dream went to darkness, the nightmare was no more. What in the hell was going on? It was like the dream got blocked in some way, some how... Mark awoke the next morning, looking dazed and fucking confused as could be. He almost thought the past was nothing more than another nightmare, but sadly the true nightmare had only just began. Mark's eyes opened and he was instantly startled by the eyes of that annoying bitch of a nurse glancing down at him, giving him one of those 'you got what you deserved' looks.

"Well, ..."
Oh, here we fucking go again...
"Looks like someone needs his fingernails shortened, by the looks of that."
Mark was caught in confusion, until he looked to his wrists, being untied from the straps to see that the skin was all very blood-caked. He had several marks all along the skin, much resembling the four slashes on his right arm already.
"Oh no. I didn't do that..." He recalled Freddy toying with him in the nightmare. Doing enough damage just to make it look as if he could have done it himself. That fucker...
"Mhm, well, those nails must be cut or you must stop that kind of dreaming. One or the other. Now don't forget to shower this morning, and breakfast will be waiting for you in the entertainment room."
"What happened to me last night?" He asked. "I was.. having a nightmare, and then it just, ended." Mark looked to the fresh bandaid on his, and the IV drip next to his bed. "What did you guys give me?"
"You just never mind.  Now come!" 

With that the nurse left, Mark rubbed his wrists, confused and lost. How long did he have to be in here? He didn't even know, but he sure the fuck couldn't wait to leave. No music, no comics, no internet? Fuck this man... Later when he'd shower, Mark would find the water to be ice cold and that's as warm as it would ever get. He'd only have ten minutes to shower, being done in less than five, and still would be late getting to the entertainment room and lose the chance to eat the nasty breakfast that they had prepared for him. Quickly cooked eggs and greasy bacon .. He wasn't missing much.

By this point, he thought maybe just letting himself be taken by Freddy would be the best choice. No more fucking torment. He was done. Time would pass and he would only become more insane, seeing people come and go, never long enough to make friends with any of the drug addicts or people brought in for suicide or homicide. Mark would wait in line, just to stare out the fucking window. It was all he had to look forward to. More bullshit excuses from the doctors once a month, coming up with medical-term ways to say "we love making you suffer so here is a reason for why you won't be leaving anytime soon, hehehee!!!"

All the time, Mark could only wonder, just what in the hell did HE DO to deserve this? It was Freddy's fault, and that burnt up bastard son of 100 maniacs wasn't going to win. Mark wasn't going down without a fucking fight, that was for sure. But it was a fight that he knew he couldn't fight alone.

Over time, some teenagers would be submitted into the fucking asylum, all knowing of Freddy but, being too weak to survive the nightmare, and eventually would each fall victim to him. Mark was there to see them all get picked off one by one, while the doctors shoved new pills down his throat and he fought to stay awake each night. Have you ever had to pretend to sleep without actually falling asleep in fear of dying? Knowing the moment you do, he'll be there waiting for you? It's a mind fuck, if there ever was one. 

Everywhere in Westin was about standing in lines. A line to get into the bathroom. A line to stare out a window. A line to fucking be in a line. When you're in an asylum, standing around doing nothing is at least doing something productive, rather than just laying around on that fucking board they called a bed. Mark hated being social, especially with all these freaks when he obviously didn't belong here. He wasn't crazy .. But give him a few months in this place and we'll see about that.

Mark had just stood in a line for over an hour just to get a fucking book, only to find nothing to his taste. With an aggravated groan, he lazily pulled up a copy of Beowulf and mainly just skipped to the parts involving Grendel. Reading this or that, he stood in another line, surrounded by people who have murdered, and maimed, and raped the innocent (one, including a squirrel ... ) But, Mark couldn't care. After everything he had suffered through, losing his closest friends and struggling to survive, he had learned that no one is truly innocent, not really. Not anymore in this day and age.

"Your hair." Someone said.
Mark withdrew his face from the book and turned around, an old bitch in a shirt too small with long wrinkly tits ...He knew this from how low they were sagging, right out from under her shirt ... The sight sickened him beyond description, was poking at the back of his head, he swiped her hand away from him with a shove and a "Don't fucking touch me."
"Your haaaair..." They said again.
"Yeah, I have hair. What about it?" Mark snapped back.
"Heh it's funnnnnny."
"..What's funny about my hair?"
"uhhhhhhhhhhhh..... it's.... dark...but... then there's a white spot... haaahah..."

What the.. fuck? Mark didn't know what the hell this old and obviously demented chick was trying to say, but he pushed his way through the line to get up close to the mirror. At first he saw nothing. Just another dumbass patient seeing shit. But then he turned to the left, seeing a good chunk of hair on the backside of his right, completely white.
"What is this?" He asked himself out loud, pulling at the hair. It had lost its pigment, when the fuck did this happen??
"It's a mirror" The fatass from behind him said. Mark didn't know if he was being sarcastic, or honestly thought he was being helpful ...
"Yeah, thanks."
"Welcome... You can pay me now." The guy held out his hand.
Mark oddly set the book in the man's hand, who stared at him confused.
"What this." The man asked. Yep, the question of a man with one or more screws loose.
"It's a boo--...." Mark stopped. Time to test just how crazy this fuck was. "Toast. It's toast. You can eat it."
"WOOOOOOOOO!!!" The fatass began to dance, wiggle sorts. The image would leave Mark disturbed for days to come, and give him something else, to have less life-threatening nightmares about. 

There had to be someone in this place who wasn't out of their fucking mind. Mark waited three hours until his apparent roommate arrived, this William Rollins guy the Nurse had told him about. Maybe perhaps this guy would be just as crazed as the other nuts here. Maybe not. Mark returned to his room, 323, to find a lonely, sad looking boy sitting on the other bed. 

"Uh... Hey, man."  Mark said, he entered the room cautiously, not knowing if Will was sane, or not. "I'm Mark..."  He said, unsure if he should extend his hand to the kid or not. "Me-Mark.. You're... William?"  He asked, but felt really stupid saying as much. "Are you crazy like the rest of these fuckers?" He just decided to ask out right.

Freddy Vs.......

  i'm re-working FvsJ as a sole nightmare on elm street film. no jason included. this changes most the plot points and would allow dead characters to continue remaining past the point they died in the film. Interested, comment me. 


These were the only RPs I got to do as Mark.




The last thread was continued, here:


He went to step inside, having been blocked by the two girls there. he managed to move passed them, and headed left toward the living room. He was still soaking wet, and left a trail of wet footprints into the house, but didn't seem to notice. he took a glance around but saw no one else beside the three of them were here.

" I take it that Will never showed up..?" He awaited for an answer but only got silence. he took it as an asnwer anyway, "..Lori, right? You Do remember who Will even is...?"

He stood there a moment, water dripping off his nose. 
"..you should um.." -he wiped his face with the long over-hand sleeve of his now wet and darker blue jacket sleeve. "shut the door.."

He only waited for the problems to occur, having a good feeling that with his luck, it would be soon now. he stood still, not wanting to sit down with wet clothes.

Gibb snuck in tward a wall to lean up against; her head spinning and the ground seemed to be far from her. ... maybe if she just shimmied down a little ...

"Ermm ... err ..."

Gibb pushed herself against the wall and slowly sat down making a little squish in her soggy shoes and a loud plunk as her red bookbag plopped on the ground beside her.

Taking off her soggy red hat, Gibb revealed those locks she was just a bit sheepish to unveil. Why, she never knew. But she found a nice, safe comfort with her red hat. The dye had begun to run both from bleach and rain and it stung those large eyes of hers.

"Of course she remembers Will ... how could she ever possibly forget? ..."

Gibb's lazy eyes looked Mark up and down with a small scowl.

"I've tried thousands of times to introduce the kid to guys, but does she even give them a chance? ..."

Gibb tossed her hat to the ground and scoffed.

"Not a chance in hell. She'd never forget."

Mark let his eyes roll. Not to be at all sarcastic to what she was saying, but because he knew EXACTLY what she meant. Sure the girls back at Westin were.. slightly insane, Will seemed to only ever talk about Lori. Mark had tried to assure him some of the more sane girls around mentioned they had gotten feelings for him, but did Will care? Noooo .. it was all about Lori. This annoyed Mark to no end.

"Yeah, I hear that .. He's the exact same way." Mark agreed, thinking it was somewhat funny that both of them were alike in trying to get their friends to be over eachothers crushes, and failing horribly. He didn't show any sign of laughter, except for the slight crack of a smile. It would have been hard to notice, Mark wasn't really one for smiling.

He looked around noticing Lori had suddenly vanished, probably running outside with the geeky looking kid, or whatever, that wasn't his problem. He only hoped these people were trustworthy enough to not turn him back in to Westin. Again with the paranoia.. it was never rested with him.

Mark shot a look back up to the girl in the red hat, Gibb, yeah her name was Gibb. ... was that a last name? or a nick name? or.. what? Nah better not open up that can of worms. He shook the thought and looked up at her, she looked almost as if she were going to pass out. He could smell something on her, knowing shes obviously been drinking and probably is light headed.

"You.. should probably sit down or something.. Not looking to good.-- I mean. You look good. Just .. You don't look like you're feeling too well. For standing.." You babbling idiot, Mark! Just shut up and quit making failed attempts to being friendly. o.O or, more than friendly..

(Alittle explaination here. This continues after thread 3. We lost all our RPers, except for me and Gibb. so the plot of now is, Lori, Linderman, and the non-existant Kia have gone out of her house, in search for the thread-one only Will. Mark decides that it'd be too risky for him to go out again, but Lori doesn't exactly feel safe letting a strange guy just stay in her house. Gibb figures fuck it, she doesn't want to go out in the rain right now anyway, and decides to stay at lori's with Mark.)

Lightening strikes, and reflects in the window. Also in Mark's eyes, as he watches from the very same window. He still still somewhat damp, his hair dripping wet almost nonstop as if he were sweating. but he wasnt, and was rather cold as a matter of fact, his bottom lip shivering slightly, though he tried to hide it well. 

He heard light footsteps behind him, his eyes shot Right as he knew it had to be the girl with the red hat. There was something about her, mark didn't quite know, yet. Not so much the way she looked (though she was amazingly beautiful, given the fact he hadn't seen a Sane girl for a few years, this one really stuck out for him, and gave him that knotty-feeling in his stomach whenever he got near her.) or how she was. Just.. something about her. He liked it. A lot.

He turned around, slipping into the couch. Awkward silences were not his thing. But in all honesty he was alittle nervous, okay fine, call it Shy, to be there alone with her. "T-They're uh ... probably not going to have... much luck finding him" Mark stated, finally. he looked up at her, nodding. Starting conversations were skills he lacked for sure. "I don't know where he is but, If I know Will, he's found himself a nice little hiding spot. Once they searched for him for like, a week in Westin. they were sure he had broken out. But ofcourse, the human body can't survive without food, so he turned up a few days after that..." 

Mark explained, rambling on. "the body needs food to survive?" ..yeah, no shit sherlock. way to go .. this girl is going to think you're a fucking moron, man! he shook his head, looking towards the fire. "Would it be okay with Lori, and you, if I possibly asked for a glass of water or like ..Soda or something?" He asked. He had lived on water and ONCE in a long while, a tiny packette of apple juice in Westin 

My Rules

Now, I'm a very friendly person. I'm pretty laid back. I'm here to make friends, ya know? Having that said, I do have a couple rules for adding me, and more specifically, for role playing with me. They are as follows:
1: Accept and understand that I am NOT Brendan Fletcher. He's an actor. Use some logic, here.. Why would Brendan Fletcher be role playing a character he played in a TV show? He wouldn't be. I'm not him. I don't know him. I'm just a role player. I'm a guy. I'm 24. I'm heterosexual. I play multiple characters that all sort of match my personality, Mark is one of them.

2: I've been role playing for over ten years. Though, only on Facebook for a year now. I don't like it here. I didn't like it on myspace, either. It's good for getting to meet people, but otherwise, it sucks. FB especially. It's too damn strict. Now they're asking for scans of your ID just in order to keep you're account? Ridiculous. If you want a website you can make an RPG account on and never worry about being deleted, it's Livejournal. Add me here.

3: When it comes to role-playing with me, this is where the important part comes up. I only type in long, detailed paragraphs. This sometimes intimidates people, but don't let it. You learn a lot in ten years. Now days it's simply harder for me to type in short, one liners.  I expect to get back what I'm willing to give. In other words, if I give you three paragraphs, and get one line back? We're done. 

4. Now, I don't care how you chat or type OOC. I'm even a joking lazy bum when I chat OOC. So that's fine. But when it comes time to Role play, I don't text, so I don't reach chat-speak. Numbers for words. Poor grammar. My number one rule, is that if I can't READ your post, I can't REPLY to your post. And, I really don't think that's unfair. If you think it is, then just don't ask to role play with me.

5. If we do role play, please, be faithful and accurate to your characters. There is nothing I hate more than seeing Deadpool show up, in all seriousness, quoting Joker from The Dark Knight. Dude, JUST ROLE PLAY AS THE JOKER. Don't pretend to be the Joker through Deadpool. You get what I'm saying? Keep the portrayals of your characters accurate to who they are and what they would do. 

6. As a role player, on a character account, I am here to meet other role players through their own characters.  I will not add real-life people. The few exceptions on here are people I am OOC friends with. On the same note, Mark is a horror character. I don't enjoy doing cross-overs.. UNLESS they make sense. Comic characters, Twilight shit, I won't be adding those role players, but I'll be accepting other HORROR characters. Just give Mark a reason for why he should be there. 

7. One thing I hate the most is being ditched. Listen, real life DOES come first. I totally believe that. But, if you need a break, or something comes up, is it asking too much for you to just let me know? Rather than just deciding to give up and leave me hanging. That's not cool. I won't be waiting for you when you get back, if you don't give me a heads up.

Some additional Rules I'm just gonna put a couple things out there, which may make me appear to come off as rude, but it's not my intent. I just have a few more rules to add. 

1 - I'm a free-lance RPer. This means, simply, I'm not going to be tied down to any one group or relationship, specific. I'll role play with whoever is interested in starting up a SL with me. I'm not going to do the whole "well, my Mark is in a relationship with this one person, so therefore, it would be cheating to RP with you."   Lol, like, come on. it's just RPG. No need to take it literally.

2 - I don't ship. I don't RP sex. While other characters do have sex in FvsJ, we never see Mark do it. I prefer to keep my RPG like that. There is an attraction between the two of them, no doubt. But they're both so playful, it's hard to take them seriously with it. I can't imagine them doing the whole relationship, engagement, marriage thing Lol. I'm sorry.

Also, side note, I'm a heterosexual male, who likes to keep my portrayal of Mark faithful and accurate in adaptation from the TV show. I don't see him "hooking up" with guys.   If that's what you want to do, go for it. I don't care, as long as you don't try to involve me. I'm not into it.

4 - As stated, if I can't read a post, I can't reply to it. If you sent me a starter with poor grammar, or chat/text speak, or some generic "I was walking down the street WHEN I SAW YOU IN AN ALLEY!" one liner, and you have yet to get a reply from me? Then I haven't responded to it for that reason. Don't be mad at me, guys. My rules are so simple, but you repeatedly choose to ignore them. I'm a multi-para, English with intelligible grammar, novel RPer. That's what happens when you've been playing for ten years. But, I do NOT hold myself in comparison to you. We all start somewhere and I think it's cool you found RPG and decided to join. I'm very patient and I'm willing to work with you, and teach you some cool stuff along the way. But, you have to be willing to learn what I have to offer. I understand, RPG should be fun. But it's not fun for both of us when I'm putting in 110% worth of effort, barely to even get all but 7% back. It's not fair. It's not fun. 

5 - Finally... I am so sick of FB RPG. My friends and all my accounts just keep getting deleted, and I'm sick of it. I've lost so many of my accounts, and fun RPG's because Facebook chose to be stupid. My last accounts got locked. I suspect this one will too. While this profile will be the exception for role playing on this forsaken, by role playing with me, you are agreeing to allow me the right to SAVE our work and REPOST IT on my LJ. You will, of course, be provided a link to gain access to our RPG. I just want to ensure that our work does not get lost in the forgotten cemetery of Facebook's deleted profiles.

If you want to start an SL with me, we'll have to discuss it first. If it follows these rules, then I'd be glad to meet you and start an RPG. Please let me know you have read and understood, and agree to the rules sMarkd in this message by commenting below. 

If it's too much to ask for, just delete me. No hard feelings, I won't care, and I'm sorry my rules were just too extreme for you.


My Original Script

This is something I wrote a long time ago, that I thought was lost.

Sadly, the ending of it still is. The script randomly cut off mid-sentence, and my original ending is gone.

But this is what remains. Quickly enhanced so you wouldn't have to see my old shitty work.

[The Script]
Westin Hills: Institutionalized

Written by Keith Stewart

Adapted from the Movie Tie-in of 
"Freddy vs. Jason" 
Stephen Hand

Based on the screenplay 
"Freddy Vs. Jason" 
Damian Shannon and Mark J. Swift.

Based on characters created 
Wes Craven 
from "A Nightmare on Elm St."



INT. Westin Hills Activity Room. Night.

Westin Hills Psychiartic Hospital

Open on the eyes of someone, the eyes seem to appear gone. A light shines in them, pull away to see the guy is drooling. Kinsey, a black staff guard with attitude shines a light into his eyes.

Nobody's home. This one's ready for D-Wing.

Kinsey nods to an orderly who wheels the patient away. He passes two boys sitting in seats. Will Rollins, tall and slender with a look of everlasting boredom on his face, and Mark Davis, short and intense, both around age 17. They lean forward, watching the patient being wheeled away. MARK's left eye twitches. They stand up.

Cut to the door closing, and the orderly walks down the hallway. behind him, MARK and WILL lean to their right to look through the window at the guy being wheeled away one last time. He was originally one of their friends. They turn around, MARK crosses his arms, his eye twitches again.

If I turn out like that, put a pillow over my face, will you?

WILL shoots MARK a look, but the it fades and he nods, knowing MARK would do the same if it were to happen to him.  They hit their fists together, a buddy handshake.

Across the room, the blue light from the tv glares.

(over the speaker)
Medication time. Medication time. Please line up 

WILL and MARK get into the line. On the tv in the background a news reporter is talking.

three young girls, a teen boy, and another unnamed person who was murdered....

MARK gets up to the line, setting his rubix-cube on the counter. Kinsey hands him his pill.

(Reading the pill)
Hypnocil.. What's this shit do anyway? I mean, why do we all have to take it?

So you'll be nice and docile when I kick your little ass.

MARK looks offended and confused as he shrugs. He puts the pill in his mouth and flushes it down with water, grabbing his rubix cube and stepping aside with his back to the window, waiting for WILL.

Kinsey pushes WILL his pill. WILL doesn't take it.

Tonight's murder in this quiet town of Springwood. Details remain unavailable

The tv shows a house on the screen, a house WILL knows... WILL's heart stops, he jumps at the glass, trying to break through it almost.

Hey, Turn that up!

Kinsey smirks, shutting it off.

Sorry Will, you know the rules.

WILL scrabbles at the glass

Please! Turn that back on man! I know somebody that lives in that house, come on just turn it on!!!

Kinsey sighs, though sarcastially, because he loves doing this, and pulls out a black little what looks to be book. He opens it up, inside WILL sees a visable syringe.

Fuck you, man! What the fuck is your problem?!


MARK quickly grabs WILL and pulls him away from the the glass. 
What the fuck are you doing, man .. Do you want 10 cc's of that pink tranquilizer  in your ass?

They move over to a table and sit down next to a drowsy patient, Kurt. 

That was Lori's house..

MARK looks up. He spent 4 years with WILL, they are best friends. MARK knows more about Lori and she probably knew about herself.

They said something about a murder. We gotta go, Mark. I gotta see if she's okay.

Back to Springwood? You want me to start having nightmares again, man?

DON'T Start with that dream demon shit again. You know that's all in your head.

Yeah, right.. and who are you? The poster boy for sanity? You're the one that told the cops you saw the girl's dad kill her mom--

Right. Now it looks like someone else got killed there. You think thats a coincidence?

Kurt begins smacking MARK on the arm, Each slap gets harder.

KURT! .. man, how many times do I have to tell you. I don't do checkers. I'm an uno guy. So go find the fuckin' uno deck and we'll play, okay? now GO!

Kurt looks sad, but he stands up and walks away. MARK sighs.

Look at us Will. Look around you, man. We're institutionalized. We're not going anywhere.

The voice on the loud speaker comes again. "Bed Time"


INT. Bed Ward. Night

WILL was laying in his bed, about two feet away from MARK's, and all the others. Mark looks at a picture of him and his family.

My parents are alittle whacked... I mean, one son in the loony bin, the other committing suicide..

MARK looks over at WILL, who looked to be asleep. But MARK knew he wasn't.

Hey you listening to me, man?

WILL's eyes are  opened, but distant.

You really care about her, don't you?

I love her, MARK. We grew up together. She's the girl I know I'll always love.

MARK nods

WILL smiles, remembering what he and Lori had.

You'll find someone one day. Then you'll know

Sure. A nurse who thinks I'm quite possibly psychotic .. Or a patient that's even more whacked out than I am.

WILL chuckles

MARK laughs at first, but then gets back to the point

I mean all these years and you're still convinced you saw her father..

I know what I saw, MARK .. Fuck what the doctors try to get me to 

MARK sits up in his bed, leaning closer so their whispers won't be heard.

I just.. I gotta know shes okay.

MARK rubbed his hands together, his eye twitched slightly. He looked back to the door.


WILL gave him a weird look.

Whats that mean?

Listen man. I don't like the fact that we're going no where, except maybe a four-wheeled ride to the D Wing.

WILL sighs.


The common room where they had been before was quiet now. Except for the tv.
In his booth, Kinsey sits with his feet up flicking through channels, eating a baked potato
Suddenly, a torso appears infront of the window.


Kinsey jumps.

Up the Torso, is the face of MARK, staring evily and then grinning a very insane happy grin.

Kinsey sighs.

MARK, what the fuck are you--

Suddenly a hand reaches through the buttom window. MARK snatches the potato, and takes a bite. his scream is muffled by the big chuck of potato in his mouth, he smashes the rest on the window.
MARK began to bang on the glass in rage, laughing and chewing. he jumps up on tables, kicking chairs over, and a checkers board with all the pieces skattering over the room. He jumps around like a demented monkey.

MARK turned around, pressing his bare ass on the glass. he turned around, waving at him and grinning like an idiot
Kinsey turns the tv off and goes to the door, opening it.

MARK turns torwards him, bashing his cheeks in and sending chunks of potato all into Kinsey's face.
Kinsey wipes the potato chunks from his eyes.

..Ohh. You wanna play?

Kinsey walks back into the booth, grabbing his black book and unzipping it.

He turns back, and MARK is gone. It is quiet.

Kinsey walks back out of the booth, needle in hand.

Suddenly an evil laugh echos, at the end of the hall, MARK runs pass, kicking doors open. MARK is screaming insanely.
MARK runs passed again, slamming more doors.

Kinsey slowly walks down the hallway.

MARK gets to the middle again, jumping up and kicking a door window.


Kinsey smirks.

MARK laughs.


INT. Bed Ward. Night

MARK groans.

The orderlies throw him on his bed, restraining him tightly.

Who's the bitch now? Sweet dreams monkey boy.

They walk out of the room, Kinsey stays for  a moment looking through the window.

MARK's right middle finger goes up towards the window. Kinsey smirks again, and walks away.

WILL turns, getting out of his bed and rushing to MARK.

What the hell was THAT for, man?

Though very Numb, MARK smiles. His eyes open, and shoot down toward his left hand.
WILL looks, and opens MARKs clenched fist. Inside, an ID car and badge of Kinsey.

Oohhhh, dude.

MARK chuckles too.

I owe you man.

You can start by getting me THE FUCK OFF THIS BED


WILL undoes MARK's restraints.


Thank you, man. I don't know what I'd do without your crazy ass. How am I going to get out though?

MARK sits up, rubbing his wrists.

We're going to sneak down the main hallway.

We? No.. Don't man, stay here.

I just took a shot of tranq in my asscheek to get that card, theres no fucking way I'm staying.

You can't walk.. you're too drugged. Fuck it man, you can barely even move. I'd have to carry you.

Yeah well, you do owe me.

WILL sighs, MARK Chuckles


INT. Westin Hill's Hallway. NIGHT

MARK is being dragged by WILL as they sneak out of their room. They quietly make their way through the common room, the orderlies too busy on the ground picking up checker peices to notice WILL and MARK sneaking behind them, and out to the main enterance.


Hey WILL ...

Shh, quiet man, do you want us to get busted?

No listen. I love you, man. You, WILL.. have been like a brother to me. Since.. my brother died. But WILL ... you are my best friend, man .. 

WILL pushes MARK back

Come on dude, that's the tranq talking.

MARK leans back, almost losing his balance

nah. well... yeah this is true. But really man. Thanks for being there. Without you I would have gone insane.. er ....haha

In a fucking psych ward?

MARK laughs.

WILL shh's him and slides the card, and the door unlocks. MARK and WILL stumble out of the building. Fresh air for the first time in four years hit them.

They both begin laughing. Free at last.

WILL stopped and looked at MARK, shaking his head.

MARK. you're a fucking lunatic. Do you know that?

I know you are. but what am I?

WILL shakes his head, and they began running toward a fence about 10 feet up. WILL knows he could jump it, But MARK is too weak.

..This could be a problem.

They look up, MARK is looking dizzy.

Ohh shit...man... Uh. Hang on, I'll figure it out ...



EXT. Mark's House. Morning.

The next Morning at a small green house a few blocks away from Elm St, MARK and WILL wake up in a van with an obscure paint job, hearing voices.



Outside the van, A male and a female, about 40, are mumbling something. They pass a big oddly painted (with characters on both sides) and get into their car behind it. 

MARK watches from the drivers window, he hadn't seen his parents in a long time.
As soon as they backed away, the back door of the van open and the get out, still in Westin Hills sweats.

Your parents?

Yeah .. it's been years since I..

They look how you remember?

MARK turns towards him

Actually? My dad used to have more hair.

WILL shakes his head, MARK taps his shoulder and they walk to the front door. 

MARK starts picking up rocks, WILL looks away. He notices theres bars on the windows.


MARK lifts up a rock, there is a spare key there.


He picks the key up, and fiddles with the door knob.

The door opens, and they walk inside.



My room is back here, unless they've changed it.

WILL nods, looking around at the family pictures. They seemed like a nice family.

WILL walks down the hall, to a door.

This one?

NO! um.. sorry. Nah that's.. my brother's room .. Mine is to the left.

Oh. Alright.

WILL feels kind of stupid, but he shrugs it off, MARK didn't seem to care as he scurries off to the kitchen.


MARK opens the fridge, grabbing a rootbeer. He opens it and chugs the whole thing, almost not believing the taste. He and WILL had lived on water. Enough to survive on, but not to enjoy. He grabs another, opens it and walks to his room.


Like my room?

For a moment I almost thought this was the wrong room. I never would have pictured to to live like this.


WILL laughs, taking the soda MARK hands to him. His reaction was almost the same has MARK's when he tastes it.
They look around for a minute. MARK boots his computer up. Looking at some pictures of him and his brother.

We ought to get changed. The Westin sweats are aren't so comfy anymore ..


MARK opens his closet. He takes out some shirts and pants, tossing them on the bed.


No prob. The bathroom is one door down if you want to go change there.


WILL didn't care about colors or styles, though most of what MARK had seemed extremely slackerish or dorky. WILL grabs some clothes and exits to the bathroom.

Minutes later, a normal-dressed MARK sits at his desk.

WILL knocks twice.

Hey, how do they fit?

WILL walks into the room, still in his Westin Hills sweats.

That's kind of the problem.. they don't.

MARK laughs alittle.

Yeah, you're a bit taller than me.... 

WILL nods. Unsure of what to do.

..I'll get you some of Bobby's .. just, promise you'll do your best not to fuck any of his stuff up.

Thanks. I promise.

Sure. You can go raid the fridge if you want.

I'm not really hungry.

MARK nods, walking out of the room. His eye twitches as his hand shakes reaching for the handle of his brothers room.

He opens it, stepping inside slowy, and slamming the door.

WILL jumps from this. All these years, he finally feels like he knows his best friend. 

INT. Bobby's Room. Morning

Unlike Mark's room, This room was left untouched. It's really dusty and damp. Smells just like Bobby used to. It's weird inside, creepy even. Mark gets a nasty feeling in his stomach, so he grabs some clothes quickly and exits.

INT. MARK'S ROOM. Morning.

MARK suddenly  tosses some clothes at WILL, they seem to be more his size.

There, those should fit.


Yep. So do you want to go to her house..?

No.. cops might still be there. let's try her at school. Can we take your brothers van?

He hid the keys from me. I'm sure their in there somewhere but You'd have a better chance of knowing than I would.

Okay. On foot then.



MARK and WILL Exit MARK's house and they head down the driveway.

Do you want to maybe stop by your house on the way?

Nah man. Cops might be there, I lived next door to her remember?

Yeah. Just a suggestion. But WILL .. Are you sure going there is smart? If we get busted, man...

We won't. You didn't have to come with me

What are friends for?

They hit their fists again.

She's worth it to me. I just have to see her.

MARK nods, but gives him a weird look. MARK had been worried that maybe Lori was the one who died, though he hadn't said anything to WILL, yet.

Let's take the back streets.

MARK and WILL take off down an alley way.



Approaching the school, they are across the street from it. They wait for some cars to pass.

Hey WILL .. What if Lori isn't here..

WILL looks at him confused.

Well, I mean ..What if she's the one who.. Died?

WILL looks as if he might cry, but he's too furious for that. He grabs MARK by the arm about ready to slap him.

Don't say that man, DONT FUCKING SAY THAT!

Alright man, just calm down, we'll find her..

Finally, the cars got the red light.

Lets go.

MARK steps forward, WILL doesn't. He's staring toward the school.


MARK stands there, and then turns. As he looks in that direction WILL did, it made sense.

It's her.

The light turns green....

MARK sees Lori. He had never seen her picture, but knew who she was right away. The description fit perfect. But that wasn't the only one he saw. A black girl standing up, yelling about something being "Bullshit" and Sitting close by her, was a girl smoking with a red hat on. MARK kind of stared at her the most for some reason.

Alright, lets go--

What?-- OH SHIT!

MARK jumps forward just before a moving car hits him. He runs across the street, looking back. WILL is still on the other side of the sidewalk, motioning for MARK.

MARK gets to the area he had seen them, and turns to WILL.

WILL Shrugs, wanting to know whats going on.

MARK stands alone, they have already gone inside. He motions his thumb for WILL inside the school, and jogs in behind everyone else.

From around the corner, MARK looks around for the three faces he had seen only moments before. lots of chatter. above that out of no where, there was another voice, louder than the others.

MARK jumpes, the voice had been screaming, and suddenly. 

The girl in the red hat yells "..STOP STARING AT ME!!!"

MARK looks around, but sees nothing.

He looks out a window to see Will is finally making it toward the school.
Mark continues to search the hallway, now crowded with kids, for the girls. He finds them when one of them, Lori, is freaking out

What did he look like?

He wore this dark brown hat and his skin.. was horribly burned. and his right hand had these long like razor fingers.

You had a nightmare, thats all..

MARK stops, the description he was hearing sounded too familiar, he began pushing his way through kids to get to the voice.

No but this was so real. There were these little kids singing this song like.. I can't remember.

(Approaching them)
One two, Freddy's coming for you...

Lori jumps, looking at the boy who just said that.

MARK steps forward, he glances up at the girl in the red hat, getting to see her closer now. He held back a smile.
GIBB looks at him oddly, and looked down hiding her face under her hat. 

Do you know why they sing that?

Lori shakes her head "no."

Because that's when he comes for you. In your dreams. You're lucky to be alive.

 ..Who is he, please tell me..

MARK glances around, back to GIBB, he felt kind of embarrassed suddenly.

He was a child murderer. That some parents from around her burned alive. But then.. He came back. Back For Revenge. In our nightmares. Funny no one ever told us about him?

(Trying to ward him off)
Alright, Thank you!

He's REAL? But how do you..

MARK gives her the "SHH!" sign.

You want some free advice? Coffee: Make friends with it.

A hand grabs MARK's shoulder from behind, making MARK jump. He leeps forward, bumping into the girl with the red hat.

MARK! That's enough! Can't you see you're scaring her?

Lori looks up at WILL, shaking.


WILL stepped forward, nearly in tears.

We thought you might um .. be in trouble.. so we--

Lori went to touch his face, but couldn't take it. She faints.

Oh shit, Lori!

MARK turned back, he movea out of GIBB's way.

The principal is coming.

MARK's eye twitches, He reaches out, grabbing WILL

WILL the Principal, come on, lets go!
WILL fights for a second, but then is pulled along by MARK.



INT. Infirmary. NOON

LORI sleeps in the room, on a small bed. KIA stands by her side, then goes to sit down besides GIBB.


Strong work, man. I came to make sure shes okay, and you put her in the infirmary!

MARK gives him an evil glare.

They turn the corner to a room with "Nurse" on the door. Inside they can see the two girls Kia and GIBB sitting down. GIBB is looking through a magazine, Kia looks alseep.

They turn around the corner when a couple teachers walk by.

What were you thinking, telling her all that stuff man? We're not in group.

WILL leans to check on the hallway, MARK doesn't take his glare off.

I'm thinkin for the first time in my life that maybe I'm not crazy. She had the Same dream WILL. My brother was right.

WILL shakes his head and then leans his head out of the hallway. Nothing. when he turns back, someone is standing there.


Principal Shaye
WILL, MARK, I need to talk to you.

Behind him, two officers are walking closer.

Principal Shaye
Take it easy, nobody wants any trouble. Just, let these officers take you back to Westin and--

WILL motions to MARK, who nods.

WILL runs to his left, MARK runs passed WILL to his right, grabbing Principal Shaye from both sides and pushing him right into the officers, buying enough time to run passed them.

Cut to inside the room, GIBB jumps seeing a flash outside. She was sure she saw that MARK kid run passed the window.

Whoa, shit--

The cops get up and run down the hallway.

MARK and WILL burst open through a fire-exit, and the alarm goes off.

WILL and MARK run like crazy down the street.


Out of breath, they stop running.

FUCK! what are we going to do MARK? They are going to be by both our houses.

We need to kill some hours.

Yeah. How? We sure as fuck can't go back to the school.

Let's go to the library. There's something I have to see...

WILL looks at MARK, confused.


INT. The Springwood Town Library. Noon.

MARK and WILL enter the library, and they walk into the basement.

What's the point of this, exactly?

WILL looks around nervously.

That's what we're here to find out...

MARK boots up the microfiche-viewer. MARK takes the chair, WILL stands behind him to his left. Mark begins reading through files.

This doesn't make sense. Nothing on Krueger .. Not his arrest, or death .. not even a birth.

WILL taps MARK's shoulder.

Maybe he was never anything but a nightmare, you ever think that?

No. Look.. Maybe they just.. Don't have stuff of him on film or computer yet. because I-- WILL! Wait a second. Look at this, man.

On the screen, big parts of the paper were completely blackened out. MARK scrolls down, and more articles are blackened out.

This is scary shit man. check it out. Sections of the records are just gone. Look at all these black out obituaries.
He moves to January 18th, the same newspaper clipping WILL had seen in MARK's room was there, but most of it was blackened out.

This is the day my brother "committed suicide" .. Why isn't that in here?


The rest was going to play out as the movie and book do, except taking a twist. Mark wouldn't die. Will finds the key Mark did before, and runs inside to wake him up. From there, a sequel would have spawned that re-wrote much of the story, hopefully for the better. Also, it would have seen a hinted romance between Mark and Gibb, who hadn't died at the rave.