FADE IN:

       INT. BOILER ROOM

       DEEP, GRIM MUSIC in ULTRA-STEREO, SUPERSATURATED COLORS, 
       CAMERA MOVES SLICK AND OMINOUS, as we BEGIN A SERIES OF CLOSE 
       SHOTS OF GRIMY HANDS.  BUILDING --

       A STEEL HAND, shining dully in the dark shadows of a filthy 
       boiler room - being assembled slowly over --

       METAL FINGERS -- COMPOSITE SINEW -- the SPARK of hammer on 
       metal -- then -- the thing suddenly flexes as if alive --

       CLOSE ON REMOTE CONTROL DEVICE -- clean hands manipulating 
       levers --

       THE STEEL HAND -- forms into a heavy fist -- thumps on table -
       - then the GRIMY HANDS of the CREATOR thrust in again -- 
       begin affixing long, shining blades to the end of the steel 
       fingers --

       CLOSER ON BLADES -- gleaming, dangerously long.

       CUTAWAYS TO FURNACES -- belching FIRE and SMOKE.

       STEAM PIPES -- hissing and dripping into endless depths of 
       this hellish place.

       THE HAND -- fitted with the final claw -- now a super-modern, 
       almost futuristic version of Freddy's glove -- flexing and 
       trembling.

       THE MAKER'S RIGHT HAND -- caresses it -- then retracts and 
       lays itself on the filthy work bench -- the MAKER'S LEFT HAND 
       ENTERS FRAME WITH A HUGE CLEAVER and raises it over the wrist 
       of the right hand -- then strikes down hard!

       CUT TO A CAMERA AND DOLLY -- BEHIND, IN THE SHADOWS -- A 
       SHADOWY CREW GASPS -- we hear a muffled EEUWWW -- 

       THE STUMP OF THE MAKER'S RIGHT ARM -- now spurting blood -- 
       raises --

                           VOICE (O.S.)
                 More blood, more blood!

       Nearby, CHUCK and TERRY, two young SPFX assistants, pump fake 
       blood through tubing, using large plastic syringes.  It's a 
       messy job, they're covered with fake blood themselves, as 
       their boss, CHASE PORTER, good-looking, early 30's, tweaks 
       the levers of a remote control device.

       BEHIND THEM, at the edge of the set, Chase's wife, HEATHER 
       LANGENKAMP, 30, dressed in woman's pajamas, and his son 
       DYLAN, 5, watch from their chairs.  Heather, appalled by the 
       scene's violence, puts her hand over Dylan's startled eyes.

       THE STUMP OF THE MAKER'S ARM thrusts now into the cuff of the 
       steel hand, synthetic tendons snake out of the steel hand and 
       bury themselves in the maker's wrists, and the unseen actor 
       flexes the razor-sharp steel blades, wheels and SLASHES INTO 
       CAMERA as we hear

                           VOICE (cont'd) (O.S.)
                 CUT!  Fantastic!

       BUZZER.  THE FURNACES STOP BELCHING FIRE.  SMOKE, STEAM and 
       WATER stop dead.  Instead there's CHATTER, LIGHTS and 
       movement as the crew bustles in to reset for the next take.  
       The director, WES CRAVEN, rushes over to Chase ad thumps him 
       on the back.

                           CRAVEN
                 Chase, you're a genius!  This makes his 
                 old claw look like Mother Theresa's!

       Chase waves a 'them too' hand towards his assistants.

                           CRAVEN (cont'd)
                 You, too, Terry, Chuck.  Great blood!

                           CHUCK
                 Thank you.

                           TERRY
                 It's some of our best work.

       Laughter.  Craven cracks a bottle of Lipovitan.  Chuck walks 
       by with dripping steel hand as Chase rumples Dylan's hair.

                           CHASE
                 Want to see some neat stuff?

       Dylan looks up wide-eyed.

                           HEATHER
                 Chase, no.

       Chase laughs.

                           CHASE
                 Come on, it's only make believe!

       

       And lifts Dylan, leading Heather away.  STEADICAM WITH THEM 
       as they move off-set through crew and equipment into a work 
       area behind the boiler room flats.

       He sets Dylan on a workbench.  The kid's surrounded by 
       SNARLING MONSTER HEADS, LON WITHERED ARMS, EVISCERATED 
       TORSOS, propped in corners and peering off temporary shelves.  
       The handiwork of Chase's SPFX MAKEUP wizardry.

                           CHASE (cont'd)
                 You hungry, Dylan?

       He give Dylan a large Chinese food takeout container.  Dylan 
       opens it and a reptilian head jumps out.  Dylan gives a start 
       as Chase laughs.

                           CHASE (cont'd)
                 Gotcha!

                           HEATHER
                 Chase!

       Chase takes it back from Dylan.  Shows it's only a hand 
       puppet.  Meanwhile Chuck's brought the claw back from the set 
       and placed it on a work armature.

                           CHUCK
                 It should have flexed more.  I think the 
                 servos got shorted out with blood.

                           CHASE
                 Insulate 'em with some styro.  It wasn't 
                 designed to be submerged, for Petesakes.

       Heather looks at it eerily.

                           HEATHER
                 I don't like that thing.

       He turns, a funny gleam in his eye.

                           CHASE
                 This thing puts bread on our table.

                           DYLAN
                 Is it alive, Daddy?

                           A.D. (O.S.)
                 Heather, you're in the next shot!

       Heather turns, a little confused.

                           CHASE
                     (putting Dylan on again)
                 Might as well be, Dylan.  State of the 
                 art animatronics enhanced with bio-
                 organic grafting.  Bull tendons, nerve 
                 bundles from a Doberman, even half the 
                 brain of a homicidal primate was...

                           HEATHER
                 Chase...

       heather is looking at the hand again, but now her expression 
       is growing more alarmed. Chase looks over, reacts to

       THE HAND

       flexing.  Trembling.

                           CHASE
                 Hey...

       Chase reaches out to steady the hand, but with incredible 
       speed it contorts.  The claws flick and Chase reels back with 
       a cry, staring at his own bloody fingers.

                           CHASE (cont'd)
                 Shit!

       Chase grabs the remote and switches it off.  THE CLAW falls 
       still.  The other assistant, CHUCK, peers down at it in 
       curiosity.

                           CHUCK
                 Must've picked up something from an AD's 
                 walkie-talkie...

       He flops it over with a screwdriver and pokes at it.  The 
       hand lets out a LITTLE SOUND, half machine, half animal.  
       Terry puts his hand near it, palm down, then looks at Chase.

                           TERRY
                 You sure it's turned off?

                           CHASE
                 It's off.

                           TERRY
                 Funny.  It's warm.  Like a real hand.

       Chuck leans down and peers more closely at it.  Goes to poke 
       it again.  But before his finger touches it the clawed steel 
       hand leaps up and glues itself to his neck.  Its gleaming 
       talons sinking into his throat!

       Chuck jerks back.  Clawing the thing away.  Clutching his 
       throat as blood spurts from between his fingers.

       THE HAND

       smacks back on the table and scrambles out of sight with a 
       clatter of steel.  Into the warren of tools and equipment.  
       Fast as some spiny creature from a thousand fathoms!

       Heather screams.  Dylan draws back, pale and frightened as 
       Chase grabs the remote controller and smashes it.  Pulls out 
       the batteries and flings them away.  Every furnace in the 
       place suddenly ROARS BACK TO LIFE!

                           CRAVEN (O.S.)
                 What the hell's going on?!  Kill the 
                 effects!

       FIRE, SMOKE AND STEAM HOWLING as Chuck crashes blindly into 
       Chase and both go down.  Terry claws cursing through the 
       jumble atop the toolbench, trying to find where the damn 
       thing went.

       ANGLE ON THE FLOOR - THE CLAW skitters down on one leg of the 
       bench fast as a wharf rat and attacks Terry's foot, slicing 
       through his Achilles tendon!

       TERRY shrieks and falls hard, and the instant he slams into 
       the floor, the claw drives straight into his heart!  Terry 
       screams as the claw wheels and scrambles straight for the 
       sprawl of Chase and Chuck's convulsing body!

       CU CHASE

       reacting in horror.

       CHASE'S POV TO CHUCK'S BODY as the CLAW APPEARS over the rim 
       of Chuck's shoulder, inches from Chase's face, spreading its 
       talons wide!

                           CHASE
                 Heather!

       INT. BEDROOM - DAY

       Heather convulses in bed.  Terror elevated by...

                           CHASE
                 Heather!! Earthquake!!

       Chase's already half out of bed, clawing at her.

                           CHASE (cont'd)
                 Get in the doorway

                           DYLAN (O.S.)
                 Mommmmeee!

       That voice jolts her fully awake.

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan!

       A framed picture falls with a deafening crash, its glass 
       shattering, narrowly missing Chase.  Heather sprawls out of 
       the room.

       INT. STAIRWELL - CONTINUOUS

       HAND-HELD and rough, CAMERA grabbing the action as best it 
       can.  Heather half runs, half braces against bucking walls 
       while pictures and china shatter.  Chase staggering behind 
       her into

       INT. DYLAN'S ROOM - DAY

       The child sits upright among his twisted bedclothes staring 
       at the toys swinging wildly from his ceiling.  Then it's 
       over.

       CAMERA STABILIZES, but remains HANDHELD.  There has not been 
       nor will there be any MUSIC CUES.

       The house has fallen still.  The swimming pool, seen outside 
       the window, slaps against its walls.  There's a weird 
       ELECTRONIC ULULATION outside, up and down the street, like 
       spaceships landing.  Heather looks at Chase.

                           CHASE
                 Car alarms.  You okay?

       She nods, scrambles up and lifts Dylan, who's begun to cry.  
       Hugs him.  He's full of jagged energy, soaked with sweat.

                           CHASE (cont'd)
                 You okay, chief?

                           DYLAN
                 no.

                           HEATHER
                     (feels his forehead)
                 You have a fever, sweetie?

       Dylan shakes his head.  Heather kisses him.

                           CHASE
                 Just an earthquake, Dylan.  Every once in 
                 a while we get a few.

                           HEATHER
                 No biggie, really.

       Chase rumples the kid's hair.  Then Dylan says solemnly.

                           DYLAN
                 Daddy, blood.

       Heather follows Dylan's eyes to Chase, to his bloody hand. 
       Chase notices with a start, grabbing one of Dylan's T-shirts 
       and wrapping it, saying a bit too quickly.

                           CHASE
                 Nothing, guys, just a scratch.

       But it's already been dripping through the cotton.

                           HEATHER
                 Where'd you...get that?

       Chase shrugs.

                           CHASE
                 The picture, I guess.  When it fell.  
                 It's nothing, really.

       He gives her a look, like 'cool it in front of the kid, at 
       least', and turns.

                           CHASE (cont'd)
                 I'll put a bandage on it.  Don't worry 
                 about it.

       And he goes out.  Heather looks at Dylan and he looks at her.  
       It's hard to say which is more frightened.

       INT. KITCHEN/DEN - DAY

       Heather, keeping to herself, tries to make order from the 
       mess in the cabinets.  Chase, hand bandaged, brooms broken 
       crockery until the kettle whistles, then abandons the cleanup 
       to make instant coffee.

                           HEATHER
                 One of mom's cups got broken.

                           CHASE
                 I'm sorry.  At least we're in on piece.

       She says nothing.  In the living room, the TV NEWSCASTER 
       drones on about the morning's 5.5 quake, ('...latest of what 
       Seismologists are calling a swarm').

                           HEATHER
                 Do we have to watch that?

       Chase, washing down a fast piece of toast, yawns and blinks.

                           CHASE
                 I thought you turned it on.

       He zaps it off.  Heather eyes him, then turns on Dylan who's 
       making a face in his oatmeal.  Scary eyes.  Gape of mouth.

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan, it's breakfast.  Not arts and 
                 crafts
                     (feels Chase watching)
                 What?

                           CHASE
                 You get any sleep last night?

                           HEATHER
                 More or less.
                     (swipes hair from eyes)
                 Dylan, time to get dressed.  I'm late.

                           DYLAN
                 You going away?

                           HEATHER
                 Just for a few hours.  Julie'll be with 
                 you.

       He sighs, then goes into his room.

       INT. CHASE AND HEATHER'S BEDROOM - LATER - DAY

       The two dress, Heather rather smartly.  Chase, in jeans and 
       sweatshirt, is packing a small overnighter.  Chase again 
       notes Heather's withdrawal.

                           CHASE
                 Anything other than the obvious bothering 
                 you?

                           HEATHER
                 Five earthquakes in three weeks is 
                 enough.

                           CHASE
                 Hasn't been another call, has there?

       She shakes her head.  Chase looks relieved.

                           CHASE (cont'd)
                 Two full weeks without him.  Maybe he got 
                 run over by a truck.

       Heather doesn't seem to take any comfort in this.

                           HEATHER
                 He feels closer, if anything.
                     (low)
                 It's giving me nightmares.

       He looks at her more closely.

                           CHASE
                 You have one last night?

       She finally nods yes.  He softens his voice.

                           CHASE (cont'd)
                 It's just a reaction to the earthquake, 
                 Heather.

                           HEATHER
                 Maybe.
                     (beat)
                 Or maybe I shouldn't do this interview 
                 today.

                           CHASE
                 You've got to get back on the horse some 
                 time.
                     (off her look)
                 Look, you've had a nutcase making 
                 harassing phone calls.  I know how scary 
                 that feels.

                           HEATHER
                 No, you don't.

                           CHASE
                     (kind)
                 Okay, but it still doesn't mean it can't 
                 be over with.

       She turns away.

                           HEATHER
                 What if it isn't over?

                           CHASE
                     (beat)
                 Maybe you should tell me your dream.

       She give s shrug, like it's silly to even talk about it.

                           HEATHER
                 It was nothing.  We were both working on 
                 some movie, and a special effects thing 
                 went horribly wrong.  Terry and Chuck 
                 were...hurt.  You were almost...
                     (at his bandaged hand)
                 You were even cut.

                           CHASE
                     (uneasy)
                 You probably were half awake and saw me 
                 get nicked by that picture glass.  Dreams 
                 work like that.
                     (beat)
                 You want me not to go on this job?

                           HEATHER
                 Just be careful, okay?

                           CHASE
                 I should survive two days in Palmdale 
                 supplying soap bubbles for a detergent 
                 commercial, don't you think?

                           HEATHER
                     (reluctant smile)
                 Guess so.

                           CHASE
                 48 hours.  Back before you know it.

       He kisses her and she kisses back, holding on a moment.  Then 
       he grabs his suitcase and exits.  Heather closes her eyes.  
       Hears him say goodbye to Dylan downstairs, hears the front 
       door close. 

       Then a brittle BREAKING SOUND.  Heather looks up and sees

       FOUR THIN CRACKS snaking down her bedroom wall.  A moment 
       later the TV can be heard again.

       INT. DEN - DAY

       Heather races down to find Chase, but is stopped when she 
       sees Dylan directly in front of the TV screen, impassively 
       watching her.  As Nancy in NIGHTMARE I, looking in horror to

       INSERT TV (FROM NIGHTMARE I)

       Tina in the bloody bodybag standing in the doorway to Nancy's 
       schoolroom.

                           TINA (TV)
                 Naaancyyyy....

       CU NANCY

       reacting in terror.

                           HEATHER (O.S.)
                 Dylan, I don't want you watching that.

       BACK TO HEATHER

       as she snaps off the TV.  Then in fury pulls out the plug as 
       well.  The instant she does, the silent child lets out an ear-
       piercing howl.

                           HEATHER (cont'd)
                 Dylan, stop it!  What in the world's 
                 gotten in to you?

       THE PHONE RINGS.  Dylan instantly falls silent.  Heather 
       looks at him.  He's eerily still now, just watching her. The 
       phone RINGS a second time and she snatches it up, still 
       distracted by her son's eyes.

                           HEATHER (cont'd)
                 Hello?

       Through a deep ROARING OF BOILERS we HEAR a strange garbled 
       VOICE sing

                           VOICE (FILTER)
                 One two...

       She reacts, then slams it down.  Stares at it.  That sound - 
       and the voice - deep, murderous, mocking.  A flawless 
       imitation of...Freddy.

       Scared now, she runs to the front door just in time to see

       EXT. HEATHER'S POV THE STREET

       CHASE'S PICKUP TRUCK giving a honk as it drives off.

       INT. KITCHEN/FRONT DOOR

                           HEATHER
                 Chase!

       But he hasn't heard her, and soon is out of sight.  Heather 
       closes the door, turns and sees Dylan, still staring at her.

                           DYLAN
                 Someone's coming.

                           HEATHER
                 What?

       An instant later, something gives the whole house a subtle 
       SHAKE, rattling everything in it.  Heather grabs Dylan, but 
       there's nothing more.

       Then the DOORBELL rings.

       Heather freezes, paralyzed by unspeakable fear.  Then

                           VOICE (O.S.)
                     (through door)
                 Heather?

       Heather opens the door to JULIE, a direct, open-faced young 
       woman.  She blinks at Heather's pale face.

                           JULIE
                 Everything okay?

       Heather nods sheepishly.

                           HEATHER
                 Yeah, Julie, I'm sorry.  I just 
                 thought...there was an earthquake, I 
                 think.  Little one, but...

                           JULIE
                 Big truck went right by before you opened 
                 the door.
                     (grins)
                 Life on the Fault Line.

       She looks past Heater.  Gives Dylan a smile.

                           JULIE (cont'd)
                 Hey, tiger!

       She lifts him with a laugh.  Heather watches the two, 
       fighting a wave of vertigo.

                           HEATHER
                 You think he has a fever?  He felt warm 
                 to me this morning.

       Julie feels his forehead.

                           JULIE
                 Seems okay.
                     (eyes Heather)
                 That all that's wrong?  You seem...

       The telephone RINGS again.  Heather snatches it up.

                           HEATHER
                 Leave us alone, you creep!

                           VOICE (FILTER)
                     (beat)
                 LA Limousine, ma'am.  Just wanted you to 
                 know I'm out front.

       Julie looks at her with surprise.  Heather walks to the front 
       door and checks.

       EXT. HEATHER'S POV THE STREET

       A BLACK LIMO idles in the driveway.

       INT. KITCHEN/FRONT DOOR

                           HEATHER
                 Uh, sorry.  Hang on a minute.

       HEATHER closes the door, returns to the kitchen and hangs up 
       the phone.

                           JULIE
                 Heather, what is it?

                           HEATHER
                     (low)
                 Dunno.  Just have this feeling today...

       She bites her lip, then Dylan speaks, soberly, quietly.

                           DYLAN
                 Mommy stay home, then.

       He turns and walks into his room.  Julie looks at Heather.

                           JULIE
                 He'll be fine, don't worry.

       She goes in the bedroom after Dylan.  Heater takes a long 
       breath...then grabs the phone and dials.

                           MAN'S VOICE (FILTER)
                 Studio B.

                           HEATHER
                 Hi.  This is Heather Langenkamp.

                           MAN'S VOICE (FILTER)
                 The car's no there yet?

                           HEATHER
                 No.  I...listen, I can't make it in 
                 today.

                           MAN'S VOICE (FILTER)
                     (beat)
                 You're kidding, right?

       Heather shakes her head.

                           HEATHER
                 I'm sorry, I can't.

                           MAN'S VOICE (FILTER)
                 Listen, dammit.

                           HEATHER
                 I just can't.

       She hangs up.  Starts for Dylan's room, then the PHONE RINGS.  
       Heather comes back and picks it up, fully expecting it to be 
       the studio and dreading it.

                           HEATHER (cont'd)
                 Yes?

       She reacts, realizing too late she's listening to the HISS OF 
       STEAM.

                           VOICE (FILTER)
                 One two...

       She slams the phone down.  Stares at the thing like it was a 
       snake.  It RINGS AGAIN.  She hesitates.  Picks it up finally.  
       Holds it at a distance for a moment.  Then puts it to her 
       ear.

                           HEATHER
                 Hello?

                           VOICE (FILTER)
                 Freddy's coming for yooooouuuu.

       She recoils and slams it down!  Turns and kicks a chair.  
       CRASH!  Senses someone behind her and whirls to see Julie 
       standing in Dylan's doorway.

                           JULIE
                 What is it, Heather?

       Heather blinks.

                           HEATHER
                 Damn caller.

       Julie crosses to her, lowering her voice so Dylan can't hear.

                           JULIE
                 He's started again?

       Heather just nods.

                           JULIE (cont'd)
                 Sick bastard
                     (puts her hand over her mouth)
                 Sorry.
                     (brighter)
                 Dylan.  He doesn't have a fever like you 
                 thought.  Probably just your nerves.

       Heather gives her a funny look.

                           HEATHER
                 Nerves?

       Julie blushes.

                           JULIE
                 I just meant form the shaker this 
                 morning.  I mean, everyone's freaked out 
                 at how many we've been having.  Then the 
                 calls.

       Heather starts to say something, then the PHONE RINGS again.  
       She snatches it up and shouts.

                           HEATHER
                 Stop calling me, you sonuvabitch!

                           VOICE #2 (FILTER)
                     (beat)
                 You talk to your agent this way?
                     (Heather blanches)
                 And you try to cancel an appearance on 
                 AM/LA at the last damn minute.  What the 
                 hell's with you?

       Heather sags in dismay.

                           HEATHER
                 I'm sorry, Jerry.  I just...can't leave 
                 the house right now.

                           JERRY (FILTER)
                 What, you wanna single-handedly bury your 
                 career?!  Lose your house, put your 
                 husband and kid out on the street?  Or 
                 just give your old agent a heart attack?

       Heather slumps.

                           HEATHER
                 Okay, fine, I'll be there.  It's just, 
                 the calls started again.

       Jerry switches to his commiserative voice.

                           JERRY (FILTER)
                 Unfortunately, this kinda crap is part of 
                 the business these days, Heather.  Have 
                 you thought of buying a good handgun?

                           HEATHER
                 I've got a five-year old in the house, 
                 Jerry!

                           JERRY (FILTER)
                 He's an L.A. kid, probably already has 
                 one.
                     (laughs)
                 Call me after the interview, okay?

       And he hangs up.  Heather looks, sees Dylan staring at her 
       from his doorway.

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan, I gotta go.  Forgive me?

                           DYLAN
                 Bye.

       She crosses and gives him a big hug.  We see his face over 
       her shoulder.  Lost.

       EXT. THE HOUSE - DAY

       Heather and Julie exit an attractive house in an affluent 
       neighborhood.

                           JULIE
                 I'll call the cops for you.  You've got 
                 the number on the fridge, right?

                           HEATHER
                 Thanks.  Just give them the time he 
                 called.  They're keeping a list, 
                 supposedly.
                     (gives a hug)
                 Sorry.  My nerves are so raw these days.

                           JULIE
                 'S okay.

       Julie gives a wave as Heather heads down the walk.  

       CLOSER ON HEATHER

       now eyeing the dark car in the drive, slowing as she sees.

       The DRIVER, waiting, holding the back door.  A big man, faced 
       away, head distinctively bald.  It could almost be...Freddy.

       He turns.  It's just a driver, pale-faced and antsy.  Heather 
       gets in.

       INT. LIMO/EXT. TV STUDIO - MOVING - DAY

       HEATER

       staring out the window, lost in thought.

       THE DRIVER

       studies her intently in his mirror.

                           DRIVER
                 You played that girl...in that 
                 movie...with the guy with the
                     (claws his hand; Heather gives 
                      an uneasy smile)
                 Yeah, sure, that's you.
                     (smiles darkly)
                 That's what I love about this job, I get 
                 to meet the stars.

                           HEATHER
                 I'm hardly a star.

                           DRIVER
                 You kidding?  I love your stuff.  First 
                 was the best.  Where your girl friend's 
                 cut open and dragged across the ceiling?  
                 Awesome!
                     (missing Heather's flinch)
                 And when all that blood comes out of your 
                 boyfriend's bed?  Thought I'd shi...

       Heather finds the switch for the window between them.  He 
       gives a nasty look as the gap closes.

                           DRIVER (cont'd)
                 But they should never've killed off 
                 Freddy!

       Heather sinks back into the leather.  A moment later the limo 
       lurches to a stop and her door is jerked open.  A YOUNG MAN 
       leans in and grabs her arm.

                           P.A.
                 Heather?  We're gonna have to run!

       EXT. TV STATION PARKING LOT - DAY

       And he nearly yanks her out of the car.

       INT. TV STUDIO

       LIGHTS BLINDING INTO LENS.  CAMERA TIPS DOWN TO REVEAL 
       HEATHER and a smiling TALKSHOW HOST.

                           HOST
                 So, Heather, we're coming up on the 10th 
                 anniversary of the first Nightmare on Elm 
                 Street.  It's five sequels later.  Tell 
                 us how this amazing series has affected 
                 your life personally.

       Heather strains for a smile.  Shrugs.

                           HEATHER
                 I don't know if it has, really.  With the 
                 exception of One and Three, I've pretty 
                 much kept out of it.  I'm working in 
                 television now.  The hours let me spend 
                 more time with my husband and little boy.

                           HOST
                 Now that you have a child, is it possible 
                 you've decided horror is bad for 
                 children?

                           HEATHER
                 No, not really.  I...

                           HOST
                 Do you let your child watch your movies?

                           HEATHER
                 My child?  No...but...

       The host cocks his head.

                           HOST
                 What about another sequel?  Is Freddy 
                 really dead?

       Heather twitches, responding a little too quickly.

                           HEATHER
                 Of course he is.
                     (then, softer)
                 Freddy's dead and gone.

                           HOST
                     (setting it up)
                 And how about your co-star in NIGHTMARE 
                 I.  Would you trust him alone with your 
                 child?

                           HEATHER
                     (a little lost now)
                 Robert?  I...

                           HOST
                     (big smile)
                 Maybe we should ask him, hmmm?  We've got 
                 a surprised, Heather.  A great big 
                 surprise for you and our audience.

       A discernible rustle goes through the place.  Heather smiles 
       gamely.  Not knowing what the hell they're pulling.  The host 
       stands and yells.

                           HOST (cont'd)
                 Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands 
                 together for the best of the bad.  Ro-
                 bert Ennn-gluuuuund!!!!

       And ROBERT ENGLUND strolls out with a good-natured wave in 
       full Freddy MAKE-UP!  His fans erupt with thunderous applause 
       and cheers.  After deafening WHISTLES the boys (many dressed 
       in Freddy customs, complete with plastic claws) settle into a 
       chant of FRED-DY!  FRED-DY!  FRED-DY!

       Englund stalks into the spotlight, hooks his claw through the 
       air and growls.

                           ROBERT ENGLUND
                 You're all my children now!

       The place goes wild.

       HOLD ON HEATHER

       looking at that red and green back cavorting against the 
       blinding light.  The steel claws waving and poking as Englund 
       milks it for all it's worth, reminded of a nightmare she'd 
       much rather forget.

       INT. GREEN ROOMS/EXT. WALKWAYS OUTSIDE - DAY

       Heather gathers her things.  In an adjoining room, Robert 
       stands in the doorway to the outside, casually elegant now in 
       civilian, signing autographs for a throng of kids.  He 
       glances at her out of the corner of his eye, sensing her 
       mood.

                           ROBERT ENGLUND
                 You okay?

                           HEATHER
                 I'm fine.

                           ROBERT ENGLUND
                 Everything went great, I thought.  We 
                 really got you, didn't we?

                           HEATHER
                 I don't know why you didn't tell me, 
                 that's all.

       He waves off the last of the kids and closes his outside 
       door, crossing into her room and exiting with her.  CAMERA 
       FOLLOWS as they walk, KIDS blockaded BG by STUDIO SECURITY 
       heading away.

                           ROBERT ENGLUND
                 Hey, they loved the expression on your 
                 face.  I think they'd love to see us 
                 together again!

       Heather glances back at the kids yelling after him.

                           HEATHER
                 In what, a romantic comedy?

                           ROBERT ENGLUND
                     (devilish)
                 Just because it's a love story doesn't 
                 mean it can't have a decapitation or two.

       The P.A. reappears with a cellular phone.

                           MAN
                 Heather?  Call for you!

       Heather looks at the phone.  Puts it to her ear.

                           HEATHER
                 Yes?

                           SARA (O.S.)
                 Heather, this is Sara Risher over at New 
                 Line.  How are you?

                           HEATHER
                 Oh, hi.  I'm fine, Sara.  My God, a voice 
                 from the past!

                           SARA (FILTER)
                 Really!  Listen, Heather, I won't take 
                 but a minute of your time.  It's just 
                 that we have something to propose to you, 
                 and wonder if you'd stop by the offices.  
                 Bob'd love to talk to you.

                           HEATHER
                 Uh...sure...when?

                           SARA (FILTER)
                 No time like the present.  The car will 
                 bring you.

                           HEATHER
                 Now?

                           SARA (FILTER)
                 Just take a minute.  You'll be glad you 
                 did, I bet.

       EXT. INTERNATIONAL OFFICES OF NEW LINE CINEMA - DAY

       Heather exits the limo and starts in to a MODERN OFFICE 
       BUILDING with a SIGN reading NEW LINE CINEMA.

       INT. OUTER OFFICE - NEW LINE CINEMA - DAY

       A sprawling space with a maze of buff-colored file cases 
       defining dozens of work spaces populated by smart-looking 
       twenty-something people.  Heather stops at the machined-steel 
       front desk.  A RECEPTIONIST with dark purple lipstick and Doc 
       Martins peers up.

                           RECEPTIONIST
                 Help you?

                           HEATHER
                 I'm here to see Bob Shaye.

       The receptionist checks her out causally.

                           RECEPTIONIST
                 Was Bob expecting you?

                           VOICE (O.S.)
                 Heather!

       Heather turns as SARA RISHER crosses to give her a maternal 
       hug.

                           SARA
                 Bob's dying to see you.

       WIDER.  MOVING WITH THEM as Sara leads Heather farther back 
       into the place grabbing a young man by the elbow.

                           SARA (cont'd)
                 Heather this is Mike De Luca.  Mike, 
                 Heather Langenkamp, our little Nancy's 
                 come back home!

                           MIKE DE LUCA
                 Hey, I'm a fan!  Great meeting you.

       He ducks into someone else's office, giving a hi-five and 
       closing the door.  Sara smiles at Heather.

                           SARA
                 Can I get you something to drink?

                           HEATHER
                 Coffee'd be nice.

                           SARA
                     (to the nearest)
                 Sounds good.  Kim, would you get Heather 
                 and me a coffee?  How you like it, Hon?

                           HEATHER
                 Black's fine.

                           SARA
                 Me too.

       They've reached a huge stainless steel door.  Sara raps twice 
       and pushes it open, gesturing Heather inside.

       INT. BOB SHAYE'S OFFICE - DAY

       Heather finds herself in a bright post-industrial workspace.  
       There's an unadorned desk and behind, a Warhol of Freddy 
       times four.  Double doors are thrown open to the terrace, and 
       out there, cordless telephone pressed to his ear, is BOB 
       SHAYE.  He gives a wave and starts inside.

                           BOB
                     (into phone)
                 Gotta go.  Call me when you get to Milan.  
                 And don't forget risotto con tarfutti.  
                 Fantastico!  Have fun.

       He tosses it down and gives Heather a two-handed shake.

                           BOB (cont'd)
                 Great seeing you, Heather - how're 
                 things?

                           HEATHER
                 Fine.  I don't have to ask how you're 
                 doing.

       He shrugs, admitting.

                           BOB
                 So far so good.  Maybe we can send a 
                 little your way, too, if you're up for 
                 it.

       He gestures to an area of Italian leather and gleaming glass 
       and sits as the assistant brings coffee.  There are two cups, 
       and he immediately drinks from one, watching her gulp hers, 
       then

                           BOB (cont'd)
                 I'll cut to the chase, Heather.  You 
                 interested in making the definitive 
                 Nightmare with us?

       Heather lowers her cup, taken off-guard.

                           HEATHER
                 I thought you'd killed Freddy off.

                           BOB
                 We did.  Bad mistake.  The fans are 
                 clamoring for more. So, Evil never dies, 
                 right?
                     (grins shakily)
                 Anyway, a while back we got a call from 
                 Wes.  He's got this idea.  And who better 
                 to resurrect Freddy than his creator?

                           HEATHER
                 I thought he'd stopped doing horror.

                           BOB
                 Believe it or not, he told me I hadn't 
                 heard from him in ten years because he 
                 hasn't had any good nightmare.  They're 
                 his inspiration.  But now he's got a new 
                 script in the works.

       She notes Bob biting his thumbnail.

                           HEATHER
                 Which means he's having nightmares again?

                           BOB
                 He's very excited about it.

                           HEATHER
                 The nightmares.

                           BOB
                 He's excited about the script.  You 
                 should be too.  It stars you.

                           HEATHER
                     (reacts)
                 Can I read it?

                           BOB
                 He's not showing it until it's down.  But 
                 it sounds hot, and we wanted to get all 
                 our stars lined up in case it is.  You 
                 and Robert got great ratings today.  
                 Which is the first thing we needed to 
                 know.

                           HEATHER
                 You mean that was a...

                           BOB
                 Sort of a trial balloon.

       Heather blinks.

                           HEATHER
                 I don't know, Bob.  I'm flattered and 
                 all, but I've got a kid, now.

                           BOB
                 So?

                           HEATHER
                 So I don't know about horror.

                           BOB
                 Come on.  Kids love horror.

                           HEATHER
                 And I...I've got other things happening.

                           BOB
                 I'm sure we can match any offer.

       She stands.

                           HEATHER
                 It's not that.  I've got a fan.

       He gets up too.

                           BOB
                 Sweetie, you've got lots of fans, we've 
                 done market studies.  You rate right up 
                 there.
                     (puts arm around her, guides 
                      her to door)
                 We've already got Chase working on a 
                 prototype for the glove.

                           HEATHER
                 What?

                           BOB
                 I know.  We asked him to keep it kind of 
                 surprise until we talked.  Look, how 
                 about we get in touch your agent.  You 
                 still with Jerry?

                           HEATHER
                 Yes, but...

                           BOB
                 We'll work something out.  I'm sure 
                 you'll be happy with it.

       Heather turns in the door.

                           HEATHER
                 Bob, how long has Wes been working on 
                 this script?

                           BOB
                 I don't know.  A couple months.  Why?

                           HEATHER
                 And since you've been thinking of making 
                 it.  Has anything funny happened?

                           BOB
                 I don't follow.

                           HEATHER
                 Like weird calls, by any chance?

       His phone RINGS behind him.  He makes no move to pick it up.  
       The phone RINGS again.

                           HEATHER (cont'd)
                 Or nightmares?

       The phone rings again.

                           HEATHER (cont'd)
                 Why don't you pick up your phone, Bob?

       Shaye shrugs.

                           BOB
                 That's what people get paid for around 
                 here.

       An assistant picks up the phone.  Straightens.

                           KIM
                 It's Ted in New York.  He wants to know 
                 how the glove is coming.

       Bob gives a nervous laugh.

                           BOB
                 Gotta take that.  Keep in touch.

       Heather nods, and says quietly.

                           HEATHER
                 You too, Bob.

       She turns and starts to go.  Then stops.

       IN HER POV

       for the first time she notices everyone in the outer office 
       has a cup of steaming coffee on his or her desk.

       HEATHER

       gets the hell out of there.

       EXT. HEATHER'S HOUSE - DAY

       The limo pulls up and stops.  The driver opens the door and 
       Heather exits and walks to the house. Halfway there she 
       starts to hear the SCREAMS.

       INT. HEATHER'S HOUSE - DAY

       Heather bursts in and stops cold.  From Dylan's room comes 
       terrible SCREAMING.

       INT. DYLAN'S ROOM - DAY

       Heather runs in and finds Julie by the bed with Dylan.  The 
       boy convulsing and screaming with terrifying intensity.  She 
       rushes over and holds him, terrified.  Strange and alien 
       words are spilling from his mouth.  A language ripped from 
       another world not connected with our reality at all.  Until 
       suddenly it's English, and he says in a clear and 
       terrifyingly deep voice

                           DYLAN
                 Never sleep again, never sleep again!

       Then he starts sobbing as if his heart will break.  Heather 
       looks at Julie in shock.

                           HEATHER
                 What's going on?  Was he watching the 
                 movie on TV again?

       Julie blinks.

                           JULIE
                 Movie?  He hasn't been watching any TV at 
                 all.  He was taking his nap when I heard 
                 screaming.

       Julie stops, shaken herself.  Heather looks at the child.  
       Dylan turns, catches her eye with his own, and says through 
       his tears.

                           DYLAN
                 Rex saved me.

                           HEATHER
                 Rex?  Who's Rex?

       Dylan pulls a stuffed dinosaur out from beneath the covers, 
       and gives it to Heather.  And it nearly falls apart in her 
       hands, its body torn by four deep cuts, its stuffing pouring 
       out.

       Heather looks at Dylan.

                           DYLAN
                 Is Rex gonna die?

       Heather shakes her head.

                           HEATHER
                 No, Rex is not going to die.
                     (to Julie)
                 Julie, you know where the sewing stuff 
                 is, don't you?

                           JULIE
                 Sure.
                     (Dylan)
                 We'll do an operation, Doctor Dylan and 
                 Doctor Julie. We'll fix him good as new.

       Julie takes the thing, grabs Dylan and heads to the kitchen.  
       Heather glances back at Dylan's bed.

       INT. KITCHEN

       Heather in hushed conversation with Chase.  B.G. Julie sews 
       on Rex, accompanied by a worried Dylan.  Then Chase's voice:

                           CHASE
                 Heather?

                           HEATHER
                 Chase. Hi...

       INT. CHASE'S SPFX TRAILER - DAY

       Chase, on a cellular, is in the back of his SPFX trailer 
       working on frothing up a tub of soap suds.  B.G., set aside 
       in mid-construction, is something shiny and sharp.  Something 
       we instantly recognize as FREDDY'S NEW GLOVE.

                           CHASE
                     (yawning)
                 What's up?

                           HEATHER (FILTER)
                 Chase, you'd better come home.

                           CHASE
                 Heather, I'm stuck here.  Neither Chuck 
                 or Terry came in today.  I can't get 
                 away!

                           HEATHER (FILTER)
                 Chase, it's Dylan!

       He stands, forgetting his emergency, holding his breath.

                           CHASE
                 What?

       BACK TO KITCHEN

       Heather nearly crying.

                           HEATHER
                 He's had some sort of...episode.

                           CHASE (FILTER)
                 What?  What kind of episode?

                           HEATHER
                 He was just acting very strange.  He 
                 thinks somebody's after him, Chase. It's 
                 scary, it scared me.  He was acting 
                 like...

                           CHASE (FILTER)
                 Like what?

                           HEATHER
                     (hardly able to say it)
                 Like Freddy.

                           CHASE (FILTER)
                     (beat)
                 Heather, has there been another call?

       Heather just closes her eyes, fear suppressing an answer.  
       Demanding another question instead.

                           HEATHER
                 Chase.  Why didn't Chuck or Terry show 
                 up?

                           CHASE (FILTER)
                 Forget those two clowns, Heather.  Answer 
                 me, did you get another call from that 
                 guy or not?

       Heather bites her lip and nods.

                           HEATHER
                 Yes.

                           CHASE (FILTER)
                     (instantly)
                 I'll be there in three hours.

                           HEATHER
                 Don't speed, Chase.  It's not...

       He's already hung up.

       CUTTING TO CHASE

       jumping off the tailgate and running for his pickup.  CAMERA 
       HOLDS ON HIM A BEAT, THEN MOVES UP AND INTO THE BACK OF THE 
       TRUCK AGAIN.

       And the place on the workbench where the glove was is now 
       empty.

       EXT. HEATHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT

       Storybook peaceful.

       INT. DYLAN'S ROOM - NIGHT

       Heather sits next to the bed, one elbow on the quilt, reading 
       from the age-old fable of Hansel and Gretel.  Dylan's 
       scrunched under the blankets, only his head visible.  Calm as 
       you please.  The sole light comes from the child's bedside 
       lamp.

                           HEATHER
                 "...as soon as the sun was up the witch 
                 made Gretel fetch the wood and kindle a 
                 fire.  'We will bake cookies first,' she 
                 said.  'I have heated the oven and 
                 kneaded the dough.  Crawl in and see if 
                 the fire is blazing high enough now.'  
                 And she pushed Gretel toward the oven.  
                 The witch meant to shut the door and bake 
                 her once she was inside."
                     (makes face)
                 Dylan, this is too violent.  I don't know 
                 why you like these stupid old tales.

                           DYLAN
                 Finish, please!

                           HEATHER
                 This is going to give you nightmares.

                           DYLAN
                 I like this story.

       Heather sighs.  Picks the book back up.

                           HEATHER
                 "But Gretel guessed what the witch was 
                 planning.  'I don't know how to get in,' 
                 Gretel said.  'How am I to manage it?' 
                 'Stupid girl!'  shouted the witch, 
                 rushing up to the oven.  'The opening is 
                 big enough.  See, I can fit myself.'  
                 Then quickly Gretel came behind and 
                 pushed with all her might.  Plunging the 
                 wicked old woman headlong into the 
                 flames, banging the door shut and bolting 
                 it tight.  The witch howled..."
                     (shakes her head)
                 That's enough.

       Dylan stares off into the night.

                           DYLAN
                 "The witch howled like a scalded cat, but 
                 Gretel ran away and left her there to 
                 perish nonetheless."

       Heather looks at Dylan in surprise, then at the page.  
       EXACTLY as Dylan said, the words are there.  He turns and 
       says the rest straight to her, eyes glittering, almost 
       entranced.

                           DYLAN (cont'd)
                 "She ran to her brother as fast as she 
                 could and flung open the door. 'Hansel! 
                 Hansel!' she cried.  'We are saved.  The 
                 witch is dead!'"

       His face is lit with a fierce radiance. Heather licks her 
       lips.

                           HEATHER
                 Time for sleep.

                           DYLAN
                 Say how they find their way back home.

       She turns out the light.

                           HEATHER
                 Tomorrow night.

                           DYLAN
                 No.  Tonight.  It's important!

       Heather looks at him in the moonlight.  Wide awake, tugging 
       at her sleeve.  She has to laugh.

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan, you know as well as I do, they 
                 follow the trail of bread crumbs back to 
                 their house.

       Dylan sinks back with a smile.

                           DYLAN
                 "Then their father covered them with 
                 kisses and they were safe."

                           HEATHER
                 They were safe and could sleep.

       She tucks him in.  Then notices something.  A bump under the 
       covers, down by Dylan's feet.  She pats it, curious.

                           DYLAN
                 Rex.

       He picks a flashlight off his night stand, pokes his head 
       under the comforter and motions for her to follow. She smiles 
       curiously and sticks her head under too.

       UNDER THE COMFORTER, a colorful tent.  Dylan aiming the beam 
       towards the bottom of the bed and the large stuffed T-Rex 
       there.  Snarling in the center of the sheet, its back turned 
       to them.  It's been sewn together again, but the body looks 
       much worse for the wear.

                           DYLAN (cont'd)
                 Rex keeps him from coming up.

                           HEATHER
                 Who?

                           DYLAN
                 The mean old man with the claws.

       He points past the creature to the bottom edge of the 'tent'.

                           DYLAN (cont'd)
                     (matter-of-factly)
                 He wants to come up from down there.  
                 While we sleep.  I keep my feet up 
                 here...
                     (indicates 'safe' area)
                 Rex keeps him down there.  He's my guard.
                     (looks at her solemnly)
                 You should have a guard, too.

       Heather inexplicably feels light-headed.

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan, there's nothing down there.  
                 Look...

       She reaches past the dinosaur and lifts the blankets, 
       exposing the bottom edge of the bed and the floor beyond.

                           HEATHER (cont'd)
                 See?

       Dylan stares at it a long moment, then shrugs.

                           DYLAN
                 It's different when you're gone.

       OUTSIDE THE BLANKETS AGAIN

       Heather tucks him in, turns off his night light.

                           DYLAN (cont'd)
                 On, please?

                           HEATHER
                     (turns it back on)
                 Okay, sweetie, night, night, sleep tight.

                           DYLAN
                     (with her)
                 Don't let the bedbugs bite.

       She kisses him gently and leaves the room.  But not before 
       his voice catches her in the doorway.

                           DYLAN (cont'd)
                 Daddy coming home?

                           HEATHER
                 He's on his way.

                           DYLAN
                 He can follow the breadcrumbs, right?

                           HEATHER
                 Right.

       She leaves, closing the door, and Dylan says quietly to the 
       night.

                           DYLAN
                 It the birds don't eat them first.

       EXT. CHASE'S PICKUP - NIGHT

       As it roars down a highway cutting through a bleak desert 
       moonscape.

       INT. CHASE'S PICKUP - NIGHT

       Chase, face marked by concern and fatigue, picks up his 
       mobile phone and dials.  Gets nothing but STATIC.  Swears and 
       tosses it down.  Squints his eyes against oncoming brights 
       and shakes his head, suppressing a yawn.

       HIS POV

       the road.  White lines strobing hypnotically.

       CLOSER ON HIS FACE 

       eyes bloodshot and drooping.

       WIDER

       he shakes his head again.  Turns on the radio.  STATIC.  
       Pushes SEARCH.  One HORRIBLE BLAST OF STATIC after ANOTHER.  
       Then a distant station.

                           NEWSCASTER (FILTER)
                 ...tectonic nightmare...fault line 
                 hitherto unknown seems to be spread 
                 (STATIC) so extensive that (STATIC)...

       RADIO

       Chases hand punches it off.

       SILENCE.  Just the PLOC, PLOC of rubber over expansion 
       joints.

       CHASE'S EYES

       drooping further.

       EXT. ROAD AND PICKUP'S WHEELS - CONTINUOUS

       LOW ON THE TIRES.  Oh so gradually crossing the flash of 
       white line.  OMINOUS MUSIC creeps in.

       INT. CHASE'S PICKUP - NIGHT

       CHASE 

       snapping awake again, shaking his head. The MUSIC disappears.

       CLOSE ON HIS HAND

       scratching his leg, rubbing sore muscles.

       REFOCUS TO SEAT BETWEEN HIS LEGS.

       Music sneaks back, and with a barely audible RIP, something 
       shiny and sharp pokes up through the fabric.  Then another 
       and another, bright spikes of steel.  At first just tips, 
       then longer and longer.  Until four long claws are thrusting 
       up.  Straining to break out of the fabric.

       ON CHASE'S FACE

       singing somberly to himself to stay awake.

                           CHASE
                 This is meeee, losing myyyy religion.  
                 Look at meee, losing myyyy...

       Reaches down.

       HIS HAND

       enters FRAME AT CROTCH LEVEL.  Rearranging things with a 
       quick adjustment, and the claws weave just out of the way 
       until the hand is gone.

                           CHASE (cont'd) (O.S.)
                 Religion...

       CU CHASE

       taking deep breaths.  Rubbing his face.  Then noticing 
       there's a torn piece of upholstery clinging to one finger.  
       He tosses it away.  Stares blearily back to the road.

       And as he slides deeper and deeper towards sleep.  The clawed 
       steel hand from Heather's opening nightmare RISES INTO FRAME.  
       Just beneath his chin now.  By his jugular.

       Until Chase falls asleep.  His eyes closing for good.  Head 
       falling forward on a slack neck.

       Instantly the claws strike upwards, hard and jerk down 
       through his body.  His shirt flies open.  The claw buries 
       itself into his crotch as CHASE'S DEAFENING SHRIEK CARRIES 
       OVER INTO

       INT. LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

       Heather wakes up screaming!  MUSIC VANISHES.  Heather bolts 
       upright on the couch.  Staring around.  Seeing

       DYLAN

       watching her solemnly from the doorway near his room.

                           DYLAN
                 Mommy scared?

       Heather's still half asleep and disoriented.  Tries to put 
       calm into her voice.

                           HEATHER
                 Mommy's fine, Dylan.  Just had a bad 
                 dream.  What're you doing out of bed?

                           DYLAN
                 Rex woke me up. He was fighting.

       Before she can respond, the DOORBELL rings.  Heather shrugs 
       off the last of the dream. Stares at the door.  Who the hell 
       at this hour?

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan, you go back to sleep now.

                           DYLAN
                 Not sleepy.

       She looks through the peep hole.  Reacts.  Turns to Dylan, 
       her voice suddenly flat.

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan, go back to bed.  I mean it.

       Dylan looks at her a moment longer, then obediently goes into 
       his room.  By now Heather's shaking so hard she can hardly 
       work the bolt on the front door.

       When she opens it to face TWO HIGHWAY PATROL OFFICERS.

                           HIGHWAY PATROLMAN #1
                 Heather Langenkamp?

                           HEATHER
                 Yes?

                           HIGHWAY PATROLMAN #1
                 Is Chase Porter your husband?

                           HEATHER
                 Yes.

                           HIGHWAY PATROLMAN #1
                 I'm afraid there was an accident.  It 
                 appears he fell asleep while driving, 
                 ma'am.

       She reaches out, steadies herself with a hand to a wall.  For 
       the first time she notices the patrol car parked in her 
       drive.

                           HEATHER
                 Is he...I mean, was he hurt?

                           HIGHWAY PATROLMAN #2
                 I'm afraid it's worse than that, ma'am.

       Heather weaves in the night air.  Her voice hardly 
       perceptible.

                           HEATHER
                 Is he dead?

                           HIGHWAY PATROLMAN #2
                 Yes ma'am.

                           HEATHER
                 Are you sure it's him?  I...

                           HIGHWAY PATROLMAN #2
                 We have his effects, you can confirm from 
                 that.

       He hands over a clear plastic bag with a wallet, watch and 
       some money.  Heather doesn't even take them.

                           HEATHER
                 I want to see the body.

                           HIGHWAY PATROLMAN #1
                 No, you don't, ma'am, it's not necessary.

                           HEATHER
                 I want to see for myself.

       And the way she says it rules out any possibility that she 
       will not do exactly that.

       INT. LA COUNTY MORGUE/BASEMENT CORRIDOR

       HEATHER

       her feet echo on the cold marble walking down a hall lined 
       with gurneys holding bodies under sheets.  From O.S. 
       one direction can be heard the distant sound of a WOMAN's 
       single, gut-deep WAIL.  Then from the other, male laughter, 
       chat and the SOUND of an ELECTRIC TOOL whizzing away at 
       something.

       INT. MORGUE - NIGHT

       Heather ENTERS.  At the rear of this very large room two MEN 
       are eating lunch out of paper bags.  A THIRD is working at a 
       body, lifting something dark and wet onto a scale.

                           THIRD MAN
                 Help you?

                           HEATHER
                 Porter.  Chase Porter.

       He peers at her, a bloody rubber glove poised mid-air.

                           THIRD MAN
                 That a new one?

       One of the men eating lunch points.

                           LUNCH EATER
                 Over there, third from the sink.

       Heather goes over, CAMERA MOVING WITH HER HAND-HELD.  The 
       lunch-eater follows with her, wiping his hands on his apron, 
       checking the toe tag.  A thing very much like a pale blue 
       credit card.

                           LUNCH EATER (cont'd)
                 You say Chase?

       Heather just nods, her heart in her throat.  The man's voice 
       is surprisingly compassionate.

                           LUNCH EATER (cont'd)
                 Sorry.

       He lifts the sheet carefully, just offering a peak at the 
       face.  Heather forces herself to look.

       It's Chase, and something about the sweet sleep-like quality 
       to his face hits Heather harder than the bloodless pallor, or 
       the slightly broken-egg misshaping of his head.

       The man lowers the sheet and fetches a clipboard hanging at 
       the foot of the stainless steel table.

                           LUNCH EATER (cont'd)
                 Just sign at the bottom, that's all we 
                 need.

       But Heather is just staring at the sheet, head ever so 
       slightly tilted, as if there's one thing she saw under there 
       she's not yet quite through with.

                           HEATHER
                 Let me see once more.

                           LUNCH EATER
                 I'm sorry.

                           HEATHER
                 Lift the sheet again.

       He looks, sees she's serious, and lifts it.

                           HEATHER (cont'd)
                 More.

       He lifts it a little more.  Still it's only down to Chase's 
       chin.  But it's enough, and in a deadly still voice Heather 
       asks...

                           HEATHER (cont'd)
                 What's that?

       She's pointing to a flap of whitish skin beneath Chase's 
       chin.

                           LUNCH EATER
                 Uh, well, this was a bad wreck, ma'am.   
                 I mean, his head's gonna be okay for the 
                 funeral and all, but...

       Heather reaches out suddenly and pulls the sheet back much 
       farther.  For one horrendous instant we glimpse a torso sewn 
       back together with rough mortician's stitches along four 
       deep, savage slashes.

       The lunch eater pulls the sheet back over Chase as Heather 
       spins and vomits.

                           LUNCH EATER (cont'd)
                 Oh, now, there.  You okay, lady?

       He offers her a piece of white muslin to wipe her mouth.  She 
       does so with shaking hands, then asks with a shaken, 
       terrified whisper.

                           HEATHER
                 What did that?

       The man blinks a moment.

                           LUNCH EATER
                 Ma'am, it was head-on.  I heard the truck 
                 was torn up something awful.  You can 
                 imagine how he'd, well, not be exactly in 
                 top shape.

       Heather, still crouched, looks back at the gurney looming 
       above her.

                           HEATHER
                 It looks like...he was clawed.

                           LUNCH EATER
                 Yeah, well, that's why we don't lift the 
                 sheet past the face, ma'am.  Sometimes 
                 what you don't see is what gets you 
                 through the night.

       EXT. CEMETERY - DAY

       Surrounded by her friends, Heather buries her husband.  There 
       are several recognizable faces here in addition to Bob and 
       Sara, especially to Elm Street fans - Robert Englund, JOHNNY 
       DEPP, WES CRAVEN, JOHN SAXON among others.  There is no media 
       or fans - the funeral has been kept from the press.

       Heather stands apart from the rest, holding Dylan's hand.  On 
       his other side is Julie, touching his shoulder.  Only a 
       slight twitching of the boy's hand betrays emotion as he 
       solemnly watches the casket lowered.  As it disappears 
       beneath the brink, a sudden WIND moves through the trees.

       A moment later a SHARP JOLT ROLLS THROUGH THE PLACE.  
       Instantly there are cries of EARTHQUAKE! and the SHOCK 
       CONTINUES - THE GROUND HEAVING - and the men winching the 
       coffin fall backwards.  Several grave stones and monuments 
       tumble.  The coffin itself tilts wickedly, then falls end-
       first into the pit, hitting with a sickening crack.  Heather 
       lurches forward instinctively.  Loses balance.  Falls and 
       hits hard, head against the framework over the grave.

       Mass confusion for the rest of the people, ducking, stumbling 
       over gravestones, generally grabbing for something solid.  
       Then that eerie still again.  Just DOGS and CAR ALARMS.

       Heather shakes herself, twists round looking for Dylan.  Sees 
       he's not with Julie.  Hisses desperately at the girl.

                           HEATHER
                 Julie.  Where's Dylan?!

       Julie looks around, dazed.  Everyone nearby looks for the 
       child.  And for god knows what reason, Heather checks the 
       grave and reacts in horror.

       HER POV

       In the merest fraction of a second we see the coffin has 
       split open.  The lid ajar.  And incredibly, the leering face 
       of someone who looks a lot like FREDDY KRUEGER - darker, even 
       harder, but definitely in that mode, ducks back deeper into 
       the dark of the coffin after a split second of eye-contact 
       with Heather.  And he's dragging Dylan after him!

       Without hesitation Heather jumps into the pit.  Amid gasps of 
       astonishment from the dazed onlookers, even as Dylan 
       disappears into the coffin with a terrible yank!

       IN THE PIT WITH HEATER

       wrenching back the coffin lid, seeing Dylan about to vanish 
       down the dark slot at the foot of the coffin.  Just like the 
       danger area beneath the blankets!

       INSIDE THE COFFIN

       Heather diving under the winding sheets and grabbing Dylan's 
       hand.  Hauling back.  For the briefest instant she glimpses 
       the long arm of Freddy's red and green-striped sweater.  The 
       wicked glove and blades.  All snaking down out of sight into 
       darkness.  As his mocking laughter echoes over her, Heather 
       hauls up with all her might.  Pulling the child back and over 
       the bloody remains of her husband.  Dylan screaming in 
       fright!  And at the sight of Chase's face, his dead eyes 
       staring in horror into her own.  Heather passes out!

       CLOSE ON HER FACE

       rolling to the side.  And now gentler HANDS are touching her.  
       Trying to rouse her.

       PULL BACK TO REVEAL

       Heather on the ground at the graveside.  Robert Englund, Wes 
       Craven and John Saxon hovering over her in concern.  She 
       looks around in panic.

                           HEATHER (cont'd)
                 Dylan!?

                           JOHN SAXON
                 He's right here.  It's okay!

       Saxon points.  Heather turns, sees Dylan watching down at her 
       with that intense, eerie look.  Held by the frightened Julie.  
       A terrible dizziness sweeps over Heather.

                           HEATHER
                 What...happened?

                           JOHN SAXON
                 Quake knocked you off your feet.  You got 
                 bumped pretty good, actually.
                     (dabs blood from her forehead)

       Heather turns and sees men already have the coffin back 
       level.  The lid is not open - the coffin isn't split.

       WIDER NOW

       Sirens and a faint hubbub from the surrounding city.  Those 
       gathered are clearly shaken, and the MINISTER raises his 
       hands as a subtle but ominous AFTERSHOCK rolls by.

                           MINISTER
                 May he rest in peace, children.  And my 
                 you all get home safely!

       Immediately several head for their cars.

       CLOSER ON HEATHER

       shivering.  She stands, turns to go and bumps right into 
       Robert Englund.  She gives a start.  He puts his hand on her 
       shoulder.  And moving in CLOSER, we can just hear him murmur.

                           ROBERT ENGLUND
                 If there's anything I can do, Heater.  
                 Anything...

       And he moves off, pulling a wide-brimmed, not-quite Freddy 
       hat over his head.  Heather watches him go as John Saxon puts 
       a big arm around her.  Behind, Wes Craven looks up at the 
       sky.  It's getting late in the day and the wind is picking 
       up.

       EXT. HEATHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT

       The cottage huddled against strong Santa Ana's.  A 
       streetlight nearby throws eerie shadows on the roof.

       INT. CHASE AND HEATHER'S BEDROOM

       Heather lies in bed wide awake, listening to the wind howl.  
       She pulls the blankets closer and tries to close her eyes.

       Then she becomes aware of another sound, this one from 
       downstairs.  A MUFFLED SING-SONG, and a PAD OF SMALL FEET.

       HEATHER

       stands, listening.  Grabs a robe and rushes down to

       INT. DEN - NIGHT

       Heather peeks around the corner of the stairwell, and to her 
       dismay sees Dylan circling in the den, eyes closed, mouth 
       slurring something.

       Sleepwalking.

       Heather crosses, not knowing whether to wake him or not.  He 
       hovers by the TV for a moment.  It's also on, this one 
       running silent images of

       TV

       Heather as NANCY in the boiler room for the first time (again 
       from NIGHTMARE I) seeing Freddy step out from behind the 
       furnace, backlit, dark, clawed.

       CLOSE ON HEATHER

       reacting.  Scared now.

       Dylan, still asleep, veers away blindly, bumps into the 
       coffee table, then heads for the kitchen.

       Heather's had enough.  She catches up with him.  Softly 
       encircles him in her arms.

       CLOSER ON THE TWO

       as she shakes him gently.

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan.  Sweetie.  Wake up, baby...

       Awakening, Dylan's eyes snap wide in fear.  His mouth gapes 
       open in a startled cry and he flails out of her arms onto the 
       floor.  Heather desperately trying to gather him back up...

       And then he seems to recognize her, and falls still.  Only 
       his labored breathing breaks the stunned silence, his eyes 
       staring wide at Heather.

                           HEATHER (cont'd)
                 Dylan, baby, we're gonna get you back to 
                 bed now.

       The child shakes his head violently, tears springing.

                           DYLAN
                 I can't sleep there, Mommy.  Please!

                           HEATHER
                 You've got to sleep, Dylan, you...

       She never finishes the sentence because Dylan suddenly sings 
       a thin, plaintive voice

                           DYLAN
                 One two, Freddy's coming for you...

       Heather, feeling her head swim through an unexpected wash of 
       vertigo, can barely find her voice.

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan, did you hear that in that move?

       Dylan looks at her, confused.

                           DYLAN
                 What movie?

       Heather looks at the TV.  There's nothing there.  The set is 
       off.  And not only that, it's still unplugged from that 
       morning.  She looks back at the child.

                           HEATHER
                 Then...where did you hear that song?  Did 
                 you answer the phone?

       Dylan shakes his head.

                           DYLAN
                 In my bed.

                           HEATHER
                 Your bed?

                           DYLAN
                 Under my covers.
                     (off her look)
                 Kids singing, and way down there, the 
                 man...the mean man...

       And he makes the sign of the claw.

                           HEATHER
                 And...what's the man doing?

                           DYLAN
                 Trying to get up...trying to get into our 
                 world.

       Then Dylan stops, startled by the warm run of liquid over his 
       upper lip.  His nose has started to coarse dark, red blood.

                           HEATHER
                 Oh, shit.  Dylan.

       He touches his hand to it, stares at the bright surprise, 
       then Heather snatches him up.  Rushes him into the bathroom.

       FRAMED IN THAT DISTANT DOORWAY she daubs his face, soothes 
       his silent tears.

       INT. CHASE AND HEATHER'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

       Heather, back in bed and listening to the wind HOWL.  Dylan 
       is curled against her side.  Peaceful as a baby now.  Breath 
       deep and regular.  But if Heather thinks he's asleep, she's 
       wrong.

                           DYLAN
                 Where's Daddy now?

       Heather gives a start.  Looks down.  Dylan's looking up at 
       her, waiting for the answer.

                           HEATHER
                 Daddy's...in Heaven, Dylan.  He's with 
                 God now.

       Dylan thinks a moment.

                           DYLAN
                 Do you have to die to see God?

                           HEATHER
                 No, I don't think so.  You just have 
                 to...pray, or reach...

       He curls against her, tighter.

                           DYLAN
                 Why does God let there be bad things?

                           HEATHER
                 I honestly don't know. Try to sleep, 
                 baby.

                           DYLAN
                 Can you come with me in my dreams?

       Heather pulls the cover over him farther.

                           HEATHER
                 I think that only happens in movies.  But 
                 I'll always be here when you get back.
                     (looks under covers)
                 And I'll make sure nobody grabs your 
                 toes, either.

       She tickles his toes.  He lets out a giggle and closes his 
       eyes.  Heather does not close hers.  In fact, she reaches 
       over and finds a still steaming cup of coffee stashed on her 
       bedside table and takes a long gulp.

       UNDER THE COVERS

       we see Dylan's HAND reach down and touch REX.  He turns the 
       snarling beast to face the darkness at the bottom of the bed.

       EXT. PLAYGROUND - DAY

       Sun a warm yellow, CHILDREN playing under the watchful eyes 
       of MOTHERS.  Nearby, Dylan runs a stick around the palings of 
       a playground rocket, somber and tentative.

       PAN TO FIND HEATHER AND JOHN SAXON.  The man in immaculate 
       sweats, tan and fit.  A reassuring presence if ever there was 
       one, listening intently as Heather speaks.

                           HEATHER
                 I know what he's doing is bizarre, but 
                 most of the time he seems so normal, so 
                 well adjusted.  I just can't believe it's 
                 him.  I mean, and not something outside, 
                 influencing him.
                     (scared)
                 Or is that how denial works?

                           JOHN SAXON
                 When it is denial.  I don't think that's 
                 the case here, but if you're really 
                 worried, have a doctor check him out.  
                 You'll see, everything's fine.

       Heather looks back at him.

                           HEATHER
                 You're not just saying that to help a 
                 crazy friend cope, are you?

       Saxon shakes his head.

                           JOHN SAXON
                 All of Dylan's behavior is understandable 
                 for a kid dealing with a parent's death.  
                 How can a child process such a thing?

       Heather shakes her head, saying low.

                           HEATHER
                 Don't know.  Haven't been able to process 
                 it very well myself.

       Saxon looks at her.

                           JOHN SAXON
                 You're not crazy, by the way.

                           HEATHER
                 Thinking I saw Freddy in the grave feels 
                 pretty crazy.  And jumping in...

                           JOHN SAXON
                 You didn't jump in.

                           HEATHER
                 That's my memory.  And it seemed 
                 absolutely real.

                           JOHN SAXON
                 Seemed, not was.

                           HEATHER
                     (looks off, lower)
                 It's in my family, you know.  My 
                 grandmother died in an institution...

                           JOHN SAXON
                 Really?
                     (unfazed)
                 Hell, if having a screwy family made you 
                 crazy, the world'd be one colossal 
                 nuthouse.

       She looks at him, well?  He laughs and she does, too.

                           JOHN SAXON (cont'd)
                 Look, you've got a crazed fan after you.  
                 That's what's making you crazy, and 
                 probably Dylan, too.

                           HEATHER
                 I've never mentioned it to him.

                           JOHN SAXON
                 Kids know when something's bugging a 
                 parent.
                     (focusing on it)
                 You've got no idea who this is calling?

       She turns and watches Dylan.

                           HEATHER
                 Freddy, for all I know.

                           JOHN SAXON
                 Steady...

       Heather tries to smile.

                           HEATHER
                 A man, or a boy with a deep, y'know, 
                 Freddy voice.

                           JOHN SAXON
                 Six weeks of this, and you're surprised 
                 you've got Freddy in your dreams?  Hell, 
                 Sonny Bono says after a while he was 
                 seeing his stalker everywhere.  Even at 
                 Mass.

                           HEATHER
                 Really?

                           JOHN SAXON
                 Absolutely.  And how many times has 
                 Letterman called the cops thinking that 
                 woman was down in his kitchen again?  It 
                 gets under your skin if you let it.

                           HEATHER
                 You really think Dylan's okay?

       Saxon gives her a paternal look.

                           JOHN SAXON
                 Dylan's fine.  You're fine.  Hurting, but 
                 fine. Definitely not crazy.

       CUT TO THE PLAYGROUND ROCKET

       a tall structure standing over 25 feet high.  Dylan has 
       unexpectedly made his way all the way to its top level, and 
       has squeezed out through a broken guard band.  Right now he's 
       climbing up the outside of the rocket towards its nose cone!

       BACK ON HEATHER

       not seeing any of this.

                           HEATHER
                 It's my worst fear, that whatever my 
                 mother had, I'll have.  And I'll pass it 
                 along to...

       Heather shakes her head and smiles, then looks up and gives a 
       start, seeing

       DYLAN

       who's climbed to the pinnacle of the rocket and is standing 
       fully upright on its nose cone, way the hell up there, arms 
       stretched to the heavens!

       Heather stands, afraid to move.  And now several other 
       parents, even kids are seeing him, pointing, as

       ANGLE PAST DYLAN

       stretches up impossibly far, fingers straining.  Heather far 
       below, leaping off the bench and starting to run!

       UP ANGLE TO DYLAN

       as he stretches even harder, and then with a cry loses his 
       balance and falls.

       HEATHER

       running at top speed.

       DYLAN

       falling through space.

       HEATHER

       barely making it to him.  The boy and her meeting with a bone-
       jarring impact.  Heather driven to the sand hard, with Dylan 
       atop her!

       By the time Saxon gets to them, Heather's finding out that 
       though she's dazed and bruised, amazingly, Dylan is not only 
       okay, but serenely unconcerned with his close call.  He 
       simply looks up at her and says solemnly.

                           DYLAN
                 God wouldn't take me.

       EXT. HEATHER'S HOUSE - DAY

       Peaceful, sun-drenched.  Never know anything was going wrong.  
       Heather, limping noticeably, fetches her mail.

       INT. DEN - DAY

       Heather wipes the sweat off her face with her T-shirt and 
       shuffles through the pile.  There's a newspaper with 
       headlines of the earthquake, the usual load of junk mail - 
       and then something that stops her cold.

       CLOSER

       as she singles out one letter in particular.  Grimy, no 
       address, smeared with soot.  She opens it with shaking 
       fingers. We see a sheet of filthy paper holding a single cut-
       out "E" pasted on its center.

       HEATHER

       stuffs the letter in a drawer,and as she does we glimpse 
       dozens of other filthy ENVELOPES.

       Heather crosses to the phone and dials.

                           VOICE #2 (FILTER)
                 Hello?

                           HEATHER
                 Robert?

                                                  INTERCUTTING WITH:

       INT. ROBERT ENGLUND'S HOUSE/STUDIO - DAY

       TIGHT ON ENGLUND, intense, quick, stalking back from the 
       cordless phone's base through the living room of a large, 
       Mediterranean mansion.  He talks as he walks, soon ending 
       back where he evidently was when the call came, in a sun-room 
       off the larger room, which features a large easel.  Clearly 
       an avid amateur painter, he's surrounded here by jars of 
       brushes, rags and palettes.  The large canvas he's working on 
       is seen only from behind.

                           ROBERT ENGLUND
                 Heather?  You doing okay?

                           HEATHER
                 Holding my own.  You know that guy who 
                 was calling me all the time?  He's 
                 started again.  He's been putting stuff 
                 in my mail.

                           ROBERT ENGLUND
                 Must've read about the funeral.  Sick 
                 mother.  That's the last thing you need 
                 right now, I'm sure.

                           HEATHER
                     (almost embarrassed)
                 It's actually been giving me Freddy 
                 nightmares.

       Line noise for a second, then...

                           ROBERT ENGLUND
                 Freddy as in me?

       Heather shakes her head.

                           HEATHER
                 It isn't you. He's scarier.  He's...
                     (searching for words)

       Robert puts down his brush, takes the portable phone to the 
       window and looks out as if he could see her.

                           ROBERT ENGLUND
                 Darker.  More...evil?

                           HEATHER
                 Yeah...how'd you know?

                           ROBERT ENGLUND
                 Call it a guess...

       He starts painting again, as if he saw something in the 
       canvas he had to capture instantly or it would vanish.  His 
       face twists and flinches with the effort; we get the feeling 
       this is no mere hobby at all.  But we still don't see the 
       picture.

                           HEATHER
                 Anyway, what I was calling about 
                 was...have you seen any of the script, by 
                 any chance?

                           ROBERT ENGLUND
                 Wes won't show it until it's finished.  
                 That's what he told me, at least.  I 
                 asked him at the funeral.

                           HEATHER
                 When do you think it'll be done?

                           ROBERT ENGLUND
                 The way he's writing is so weird, who 
                 knows?  I asked him how far he'd gotten 
                 at the funeral, and what was it he 
                 said...?  Oh yeah, as far as Dylan trying 
                 to reach God.  Weird, huh, that he'd have 
                 your kid in it?

       Heather can't find her breath for a moment.  Fighting a 
       perception of fear so stifling it's like a pillow pressed to 
       her face.  She barely manages.

                           HEATHER
                 Robert?  Have you been having any 
                 nightmares?

       Just the line noise.

       ON ROBERT

       painting, the phone held away from his head as if it contains 
       something he doesn't want to acknowledge.

                           HEATHER (cont'd)
                 Robert, I think we should talk.  And not 
                 over the phone.  Could I come over?

       He shakes his head.

                           ROBERT ENGLUND
                 Uh, actually today's not good.  There's 
                 something I've got to finish.  How's 
                 tomorrow?

       BACK NOW WITH HEATHER

       pale, turning to look at Dylan's door.

                           HEATHER
                 Tomorrow, then. First thing in the 
                 morning.  Meanwhile take care, Robert, 
                 okay?

       She hangs up.

       ROBERT

       hangs up, too, just staring at the painting.  As if it held 
       his salvation or his doom.

       INT. CHASE AND HEATHER'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

       Heather, deep in sleep, tossing as if her bed were floating 
       on a stormy sea.  In fact, this time very, very subtly, 
       another EARTHQUAKE has begun rocking the house.  Lamps sway, 
       the whole bed rises and falls, as we

       MOVE IN ON HEATHER

       INT. DEN - NIGHT

       CAMERA AT CARPET LEVEL as two little FEET pad INTO FRAME.  
       MOVE WITH THEM, TILTING UP the cowboy PJ's TO DYLAN'S FACE.  
       Ghostlike in the moonlight.  Eyes vacant, moving through the 
       living room as in a dream.

       INT. CHASE AND HEATHER'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

       Heather gasps out something in her sleep, the tone deeply 
       distressed.  PAN OFF HER, ACROSS THE SHEET FLUNG OVER HER, TO 
       THE FOOT OF THE BED.  There's movement there.  The sheet 
       rising at four salients.  Pressed up from beneath.  Then the 
       glint of steel pokes through with a subtle rip-rip-rip, the 
       claws of finely-honed steel rise into moonlight.  Moving.

       PAST HEATHER'S FACE TO THE CLAWS cleanly parting the sheet as 
       they pull their way closer to her.  The only sound a soft 
       RRRIIIIIPPPPP.

       THEY STOP IN CU and with practiced SNICK cut the tatters 
       between them, leaving only a single hole. Then the lethal 
       steel hand rises fully into sight. 

       Then there's a CRASH from downstairs, as if a silverware 
       drawer were dumped on a tile floor.

       Heather JOLTS as if prodded with an electric wire, twists 
       around and stares wide-eyed at

       NOTHING.  OUR WIDE ANGLE FROM DIRECTLY ABOVE SHOWS twisted 
       blankets, nothing more.

       Chilled, Heather pulls the sheet around her.  Then pulls it 
       back open.  Realizes it's cut into ribbons along its entire 
       length.

       She jumps out of bed, breath caught in her throat.  Then 
       there's a METALLIC SCRRRIIIIITCH from the kitchen.

                           DYLAN (O.S.)
                     (distant)
                 One two, Freddy's coming for you.  Three 
                 four, better lock your door...

       INT. STAIRWELL/DEN/KITCHEN - NIGHT

       Heather appears at the foot of the stairs, heart in her 
       throat.  Twenty feet away, advancing slowly from the kitchen, 
       Dylan is chanting the old refrain

                           DYLAN
                 Five six, grab your crucifix...

       Heather starts for him.

       REVERSE ANGLE PAST DYLAN TO HEATHER, and from this vantage 
       point, we can see the cluster of steak knives he's taped to 
       his fingers, making a serious-looking claw, hidden behind his 
       back.  Heather shakes her head, almost to him.

                           HEATHER
                 Sweetie, don't sing that...

       She reaches for him, and he strikes like lightning, slashing, 
       barely missing.  Advances again, breath coming in little 
       asthmatic rasps.  Heather backs away.

                           DYLAN
                 Seven eight, better stay up late!

       She bangs up against a wall, he's too near for her to dodge 
       away.  They grapple, the boy suddenly with the strength of a 
       feral animal.  He raises the blades, hissing at her

                           DYLAN (cont'd)
                 Nine ten!

       Heather lurches backwards as he strikes, and

       INT. CHASE AND HEATHER'S BEDROOM - DAWN

       CRASH! she falls out of bed, now truly awake.

                           DYLAN (O.S.)
                 Never sleep again.

       Pad, pad, pad.

       INT. DEN - DAWN

       Heather enters, limping.  Looks.  Sees her child circling in 
       the center of the room before the lit TV, crying softly...

                           DYLAN
                 Never sleep again, never sleep again...

       And scattered all around him on the floor are the filthy 
       pages of letters.

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan...

       Then she stops, staring more closely at the letters on the 
       carpet.  For the first time she sees that using the single 
       letter from each page, Dylan has spelled out:

                                A*N*S*W*E*R

                                   T*H*E

                                 P*H*O*N*E

       Then the phone RINGS.

       Heather stares at Dylan, stunned.  The phone RINGS again, and 
       without even thinking about it, she picks it up.

                           HEATHER (cont'd)
                 Yes?

                           FREDDY (FILTER)
                 I touched him.

       Before she can react the telephone suddenly thrusts a long, 
       fleshy tongue into her mouth in an appallingly obscene lick.  
       She flails backwards, flinging it away, and as she does, 
       Dylan lets out a piercing scream and falls gasping on his 
       side, legs kicking like an animal struck by a car.

       Heather grabs him and runs for the door.

       INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY

       EYES, PEERING FROM BEHIND THE FLARE OF LIGHT

       CLOSER STILL ON DYLAN'S EYES - WIDE - UNBLINKING.

       DOCTOR HEFNER, a tall, powerful looking woman in her 40's and 
       Chief of Pediatric Medicine, clicks off the light and looks 
       at Heather.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 Any history of epilepsy in your family?

                           HEATHER
                 No.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 Diabetes?

                           HEATHER
                 No.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 Was there any trigger event?  A trauma, 
                 shock or...
                     (looks at her more carefully)
                 You haven't shown him any of the films 
                 you make, have you?  The horror stuff?

                           HEATHER
                     (not sure she imagined it or 
                      not)
                 No...

       Hefner nods, scowling.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 Good.  I'm convinced they can tip an 
                 unstable child over the edge.

       Heather swallows, hardly able to find her voice.

                           HEATHER
                 Unstable?  Dylan's not unstable, he's... 
                 just...upset.

       The doctor's looks at her, as if wondering if Heather's 
       competent enough to handle a painful truth.  Then she just 
       scrawls something on a prescription sheet.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 We'll run a battery of tests and know in 
                 a few days.

       Heather looks at Dylan, eyes haunted by a terrible 
       vulnerability.

       Dylan is stone silent.  No evil behavior.  Just exhausted and 
       withdrawn, like some small creature escaped from a predator 
       by the skin of his teeth, now just following core instinct: 
       stay in hiding.  Do not make a sound.

                           HEATHER
                 Does he have to stay here over night?

                           DR. HEFNER
                 Absolutely.

       The doctor draws her out into

       HALLWAY OUTSIDE DYLAN'S ROOM

       She holds Heather's eye and speaks low, so Dylan can't hear.

                           DR. HEFNER (cont'd)
                 Anything more happen we should know 
                 about?

       Heather tenses ever-so-slightly.

                           HEATHER
                 Like what?

                           DR. HEFNER
                 Sometimes what a child says or fantasizes 
                 will give a clue to what ails him.  Did 
                 he say anything while he was still lucid?

       Heather looks to Dylan.  He's looking at her with trusting 
       eyes.

                           HEATHER
                     (low)
                 No.  Dylan didn't say anything.

       She goes into the room.  Dr. Hefner watches her carefully. A 
       nurse walks by and Hefner hands her the X-rays.

                           NURSE
                 What have we here?

                           DR. HEFNER
                     (low)
                 It's too soon to know for sure, but the 
                 early symptoms point towards childhood 
                 schizophrenia.

       INT. DYLAN'S HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY

       TIGHT ON HEATHER AND DYLAN.  Heather has heard the above 
       exchange.  Near tears, she looks down to Dylan curled against 
       her, eyes open but unseeing.  Staring not so much at her as 
       past her, out the window.

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan, can you hear me?

       Just barely perceptibly, the terrified boy shakes his head 
       'no'.

                           HEATHER (cont'd)
                 Dylan, you've got to fight it, whatever 
                 it is that's after you.  And you've got 
                 to come back to me.  You can't make it 
                 alone.  Do you hear?

       ON DYLAN

       No response to this.  But then a single tear courses down his 
       cheek.  And then he nods 'yes'.

                           HEATHER (cont'd)
                 Yes.  And if you can hear me, you can 
                 tell me what you need to feel safe.

       He says nothing.  But then Heather is aware of movement.  She 
       looks down and sees Dylan's hand moving under the covers, 
       reaching, reaching down towards the bottom of the bed, for 
       something that clearly is not there.

                           HEATHER (cont'd)
                     (realizing)
                 Rex?  Is that what you want?  Rex is 
                 home, Dylan. That's where you should be, 
                 too.  You've got to get better so they'll 
                 let you come home, understand?!

                           DYLAN
                     (very, very quietly)
                 Home.

                           HEATHER
                 Home, that's right.

       She points out the window.

                           HEATHER (cont'd)
                 That's where I want you, Dylan.  You know 
                 we're not that far.  Right out there past 
                 the freeway is our home.  But to get 
                 there you've got to come out from where 
                 you are.  Then they'll let you come back 
                 home to Rex...and to me.

       She kisses him gently on his forehead, crying herself now.  
       Then a NURSE ENTERS with a paper cup.

                           NURSE
                 Time for your medicine, cowboy.

       Dylan looks at it solemnly.

                           HEATHER
                 What is that?

                           NURSE
                     (quietly)
                 Just something to help him sleep.

       Heather looks at Dylan and nods.  Then as if he were a 
       thousand years old, Dylan puts it in his mouth.  The nurse 
       gives him water and he swallows.

                           NURSE (cont'd)
                 Attaboy.  Now take a little nap.
                     (to Heather)
                 You'll have to leave now. He'll be fine.  
                 We'll run tests tonight.  You can visit 
                 again in the morning.

       The nurse leaves.  Heather turns to Dylan.

                           HEATHER
                 Okay, Dylan.  I'll be back here first 
                 thing tomorrow.  I love you.

       Heather kisses him again, gives a little wave, and leaves.  
       Dylan closes his eyes.

       But when Heather disappears through the doorway behind, he 
       brings his hand to his mouth and spits the sleeping pill into 
       his palm.  A moment later he's hidden it deep in his bed 
       covers, and his eyes are wide open, staring out through the 
       window again, to his home over there, so near yet so far 
       away.

       EXT. HOSPITAL PARKING LOT - DAY

       Heather, in her Volvo, starts to back out, lost in thought.  
       Instantly there's a BLARE OF HORN and CURSES from the car 
       she's almost backed into.  Heather pulls back into the 
       parking place and kills the engine.

       She just sits there and sobs, for one moment all the 
       confusion and dread surging out of her.  Then she forces 
       herself to breathe.  Swipes away the tears.  Swears to 
       herself.  And starts the engine.

       INT/EXT. HEATHER'S VOLVO - DAY

       Heather drives and drinks 7/11 coffee.  She's got the RADIO 
       on loud to fight drooping eyes.

                           RADIO NEWSCASTER
                 Seismologists at CalTech have counted 
                 over 300 of the temblors so far.  Though 
                 most were too faint for us to feel, seven 
                 have shaken our community in the last two 
                 weeks.  And now scientists are 
                 speculating there might be an unknown 
                 fault running beneath Los Angeles, a 
                 fault that could...

       Heather turns it OFF.  Thinks a moment, then punches numbers 
       on the carphone and listens to it cycle and RING.  Somebody 
       picks up immediately.

                           PATRICE (SPEAKER)
                 Robert?

                           HEATHER
                 This is Heather, Patrice.  I was calling 
                 for Robert.  He's not there?

       INT. ROBERT ENGLUND'S HOUSE/STUDIO - DAY

       PATRICE, Robert's wife, 33, a face of great strength and 
       beauty, looking a bit dazed and edgy right now, moves through 
       the living room with a suitcase.  She puts is down with two 
       others, then starts for the studio.

                           PATRICE
                 He's...out of the house, Heather.

                           HEATHER (FILTER)
                 Will he be back any time soon?

                           PATRICE
                 Uh...actually, we're ducking out of town 
                 for a while.

       ON HEATHER

       sensing the woman's near panic.

                           PATRICE (cont'd)
                     (on speaker)
                 And you should get away, too, Heather.  
                 You really should.

       CUTTING BACK TO ENGLUND'S

       Patrice has stopped in the studio to grab Robert's glasses. 
       She stuffs them into a pocket, turns and looks off

                           PATRICE (cont'd)
                 Just a little break away from L.A.

       CUT TO WHAT SHE'S LOOKING AT

       The IMPRESSIONISTIC PAINTING Englund was working on.  A 
       LARGE, FRIGHTENING PORTRAIT OF FREDDY HIMSELF.  A being far 
       more dark and ominous that the usual version.  The one we 
       (and Heather) glimpsed in Chase's coffin.  As different in 
       kind as the film Batman was from the TV version.  
       He's larger, quick and feral, yet at the same time imbued 
       with enormous strength and intelligence.  A truly primal 
       threat from the lowest ring of hell.  And the large gleaming 
       steel hand and claws, cocked and ready to strike, grow right 
       out of the end of his arm.

                           PATRICE (cont'd)
                 We could all use a break right about now, 
                 don't you think?

       BACK ON HEATHER

       as the line goes dead.

       EXT. WES'S HOUSE - DAY

       A modern home high above MALIBU.  PAN ACROSS A POOL to a 
       PATIO, where we DISCOVER WES and HEATHER walking together.

                           WES
                 I wish I could tell you where this script 
                 is going.  I don't know.  Look, I dream a 
                 scene, I write it down the next morning.  
                 Your guess is as good as mine as to how 
                 it ends.

       He ducks inside, Heather running to catch up.

       INT. WES'S HOUSE - DAY

                           HEATHER
                 Well at least tell me what it's about so 
                 far.

       Wes stops as his HOUSEKEEPER emerges from the kitchen with a 
       steaming cup of coffee.  Heather drinks immediately, despite 
       the scalding heat.  When the housekeeper disappears, Craven 
       continues.

                           WES
                 I can tell you what the nightmares are 
                 about.  They're about this...entity.  
                 Whatever you want to call it.  It's old, 
                 very old, and it's taken different forms 
                 in different times.  The only thing that 
                 stays the same about it is what it lives 
                 for.

                           HEATHER
                 What's that?

                           WES
                 Killing innocence, one way or the other.

       She notices the haunted eyes.

                           HEATHER
                 This is still a script we're talking 
                 about, right?

                           WES
                 I think of it as sort of a nightmare in 
                 progress.

       She looks at him, he stares back, revealing nothing.

                           HEATHER
                 Then, in this nightmare in progress, does 
                 this thing have any weaknesses?

                           WES
                 It can be captured, sometimes.

                           HEATHER
                 Captured?  How?

                           WES
                 By storytellers, of all things.  Every so 
                 often, they imagine a story good enough 
                 to catch its essence.  Then it's held 
                 prisoner for a while.  In the story.

       She looks at him.

                           HEATHER
                 Like the Genie in the bottle.

                           WES
                 Exactly.
                     (beat)
                 The problem comes when the story dies.  
                 It happens a lot of different ways, the 
                 story gets too familiar, or too watered 
                 down by people trying to make it easier 
                 to sell, or ti's labeled a threat to 
                 society and just plain banned.  However 
                 it happens, when the story dies, the evil 
                 is set free.

       Heather blinks as it hits her.

                           HEATHER
                 You saying Freddy's this ancient thing?

                           WES
                 Current version.  For ten years he's been 
                 imprisoned as Freddy by the story of 
                 Nightmare on Elm Street.  But now that 
                 the films have stopped-
                     (looks at her)
                 The genie's out of the bottle, Heather, 
                 that's what the nightmares are about.  
                 That's what I'm writing.

       She looks at him, fear creeping up her spine.

                           HEATHER
                 If Freddy's loose, I mean, in your 
                 script, where's he going to go?  Another 
                 age?  Another form?

                           WES
                 That's not what the dreams say he's 
                 doing.

                           HEATHER
                 Then what is he doing?

                           WES
                 Well, see, he's gotten used to being 
                 Freddy now.  And kinda likes it here in 
                 our time and space, too.  So...he's 
                 trying to cross over, from film into our 
                 reality.

       Heather looks like she might pass out.

                           HEATHER
                 Isn't there anyone that can stop him?

                           WES
                 Interestingly enough, in the dreams there 
                 is one person.  A gatekeeper, so to 
                 speak.  Someone Freddy's got to get by 
                 before he can enter our world.
                     (looks at her)
                 It's you, Heather.

                           HEATHER
                 Me?  Why me?

                           WES
                 Dramatically speaking it makes perfect 
                 sense.  You played Nancy, after all, the 
                 first to humiliate and defeat him.

                           HEATHER
                 That was Nancy, not me!

                           WES
                 But it was you that gave Nancy her 
                 strength.  So to get out he has to come 
                 through you.  And it's inevitable that 
                 he'll hit you at your most vulnerable 
                 points...

       Heater pales.

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan.  And...
                     (realizes)
                 Chase.  My God, Wes, did you know?

                           WES
                 Heather, it's just a movie, a dream, 
                 really...

                           HEATHER
                 You know damn well it's more than that 
                 now!
                     (lower)
                 How can we stop him?

       He stops in the doorway to his studio.  Heather sees this 
       room is draped against the light.  In its center glows a 
       computer, a half-finished page of script on its screen.  Next 
       to the computer, a narrow cot, its sheets twisted.

                           WES
                 The way to stop him is to make another 
                 movie.  And I swear to you I'll stay at 
                 my computer and keep writing until I 
                 finish the script.  But when that time 
                 comes...
                     (quietly)
                 You're gonna have to make a choice.

                           HEATHER
                 Choice?  What kind of choice?

                           WES
                 Whether or not you're willing to play 
                 Nancy one last time.

                                                     FADE TO BLACK.

       FADE UP ON:

       INT. CHASE AND HEATHER'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

       Heather studies long into the night, a host of books spread 
       around her.  Yellow pads for notes, and she's brought the 
       coffee-maker right into the bedroom now.  It sits prominently 
       on her bedside table.

       CLOCK 12:30AM

       CU PAN OF BOOKS

       Chilton on Childhood Diseases, Barton & O'Neil's text on 
       Pediatric Schizophrenia; Xeroxes from Scientific American, 
       the Journal of the AMA, Lancet, Journal of the American 
       Psychological Institute.

       CU HER FINGERS

       tracing complex paragraphs.

       XCU OF TEXTUAL FRAGMENTS

                           SARA
                 ...incipience of aphasia commonly 
                 preceded by periods of acute 
                 irritability...delusional accounts of 
                 shadow figures... hearing of voices... 
                 seizures, nausea and emesis...

       INTERCUT WITH CU OF HEATHER'S EYES

       reading, reacting subtly as the fear and awful doubts mount.

       Then she loses her grip momentarily on the book, and several 
       pages turn.  She tries to find her place.  Then straightens.

       XCU NEW TEXT

       under a heading of SLEEP DISORDERS, the words 'many of the 
       symptoms of schizophrenia are duplicated in children 
       suffering from sleep deprivation.'

       XXCU THE WORDS "SLEEP DEPRIVATION"

       CU OF HER HAND REACHING FOR HER CUP OF COFFEE, stopping 
       inches from the cup.

       XCU HEATHER'S EYE, shifting to the cup.

       XCU COFFEE CUP, the black surface of the coffee radiating 
       concentric rings, subtle at first, then larger and larger 
       until the fluid is sloshing over the brim.

       HEATHER

       goes rigid, braces looking around.  There's a distinct LOW 
       RUMBLE BUILDING now, with a responding CREAKING COMPLAINT 
       from the timbers of the house.

       Then the TV IN HER ROOM BLINKS ON, at first silently, so that 
       she's not even sure she's heard its subtle 'blink'.  Then the 
       volume comes up, and she finds herself watching a newstory on 
       the days earthquake, FOOTAGE (STOCK) of brick walls atop 
       smashed cars, freeway overpasses cracked and closed off.

                           ANNOUNCER (TV/VO)
                 A six-point quake on the Richter Scale, 
                 bringing scattered destruction throughout 
                 L.A. Basin...

       HEATHER fumbles in the drawer of her bedtable and finds the 
       remote, aims and fires and the 

       TV BLINKS OFF.  BEAT.  THEN BLINKS BACK ON.

       HEATHER

       just stares at it.  What is going on, here?

       She's about to beep it off again when she stops, the story is 
       segueing to:

                           ANNOUNCER (TV/VO cont'd)
                 The world of horror films suffered its 
                 own terror today, as two of Hollywood's 
                 best-known special effects technicians 
                 were found dead in a vacant field.

       THE TV SWITCHES to a late-night NEWSCASTER with the SUPER-
       IMPOSED LOGO of FREDDY'S CLAW and the TEXT: REAL-LIFE HORROR.

                           ANNOUNCER (TV/VO cont'd)
                 Terrance Feinstein and Charles Wilson, 
                 two special effects artists reputedly 
                 working on a top-secret project for the 
                 makers of the Freddy Krueger films, were 
                 found brutally slashed to death early 
                 this.

       Heather beeps it off, and the TV stays black.  She breaths a 
       sigh of relief, badly shaken.  Then it comes back on.

                           ANNOUNCER (TV/VO cont'd)
                 Freddy's glove was missing, and police 
                 are speculating whether the murders were 
                 the result of a botched theft of...

       GZZZTTT!!! The picture contorts, goes to snow and dies.  
       There's an interior, bluish flare inside the TV, and a wisp 
       of smoke.  Then silence.

       Then the phone rings.  Heather just stares at it.  

       IT RINGS AGAIN.  Then her answering machine picks up 
       downstairs.

                           SARA (FILTER)
                 Heather?  This is Sara.  Um, sorry to 
                 call so late, but...this is kinda hard... 
                 I don't know if you've seen the news, 
                 but... we just are thinking we might 
                 shelf this new Nightmare project for a 
                 while, and wanted you to know.  Call.  
                 Bye.

       CLICK.

       Heather leans back against her pillows.  Closes her eyes and 
       takes a deep breath.  Just the sound of the WIND now.  Her 
       head falls slowly sideways.

       Then the first plate falls in the kitchen, then another, a 
       sharp, harrowing CRASHING of crockery.  And Heather dives out 
       of bed, stumbling for the doorway as the full force of the 
       earthquake hits!

       KABLAM!  Heather braces in the doorway, gritting her teeth as 
       things throughout the house topple now, something big in the 
       living room, both lamps off the bedside tables, this is the 
       worst quake yet!

       Then the LIGHTS GO OUT.  Heather lets out a cry of terror and 
       adrenaline.  At last, it's over.

       A moment's silence.  Then one final CRASH.  Glass from the 
       sound of it.  Then utter, preternatural silence.

       Heather holds, waiting for the aftershock.  But there is 
       none.  Then she starts to wonder about that last crash.  
       There's enough moonlight to tell the direction of it, the 
       closet.

       She looks.  The rest she can guess, but what the hell was in 
       the closet?  She crosses and opens the door, looking down to 
       see

       The broken remains of her coffee pot.  She looks back to her 
       bedside table.  The coffee pot is gone.

       The merest sound brings her head around, and she finds 
       herself looking into a face not ten inches from her own, a 
       dark, scarred figure, face contorted with menace, eyes 
       catching the scant light just enough to glint incredible 
       hatred and energy.

       Heather lets out the scream at the same second he strikes, 
       lunging forward and driving her backwards over the bed, 
       landing atop and pressing his ugly face right into hers. Now 
       there's enough of the moonlight to glimpse the pocked and 
       crisped skull.

                           FREDDY
                 Naaaaancy!

       XCU TWO SHOT

       and he drives down hard, but as he does, the bed suddenly 
       twists up and over at the same instant, and the AFTERSHOCK 
       HITS!  Heather is thrown to the side at the last possible 
       second.  The blades slashing past her throat and hitting her 
       up-thrust arm, a split second before she careens out of bed 
       entirely.

       Hitting the floor hard, knocking herself out cold.  As the 
       quake's last RUMBLES shake the room, then fall away.

       CLOSE ON HEATHER

       on the deck.  Shaking herself back to consciousness.  Looking 
       around in shock.

       The room is normal.  Only her bed seems affected, so askew 
       half the mattress touches the floor.

       She raises herself painfully.  Her bedside clock radio is 
       blinking "12:00...12:00".  She realizes she's clutching her 
       arm, that there's blood oozing between her fingers.

       Then she remembers.

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan!

       INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR - NIGHT

       CAMERA MOVING HANDHELD WITH HEATHER as she runs down the 
       corridor towards Dylan's room.  Then she sees

       JULIE

       staring back at her, stopped by a nurse.

                           HEATHER
                 Julie, what're you doing here?

       Julie gives a funny shrug.

                           JULIE
                 I don't know.  I just...had this terrible 
                 dream...that Dylan was in danger.  I had 
                 to come over to see...
                     (laughs nervously)
                 You must think I'm crazy.

       Heather shakes her head.

                           HEATHER
                 No, I don't think that at all.  How is 
                 he?

                           JULIE
                 They wouldn't let me...

       At that moment Dr. Hefner strides into sight.  She looks at 
       Heather with a slightly pained smile.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 Ms. Langenkamp.  I'm afraid there are no 
                 evening visiting hours in Intensive Care.

                           HEATHER
                 Is he all right?

                           DR. HEFNER
                 Dylan?  He's holding well.  Earlier he 
                 had some problems, he's in an oxygen tent 
                 just now...

                           HEATHER
                 Oh my God...

       She goes to pass but the doctor stops her, looking down at 
       her sleeve.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 It seems we've had an accident, Mrs. 
                 Langekamp.  May I?

       Heather looks down. She's forgotten entirely about her 
       bloodied arm. The doctor lifts the sleeve.  Sees the four 
       slashes across the forearm.

                           DR. HEFNER (cont'd)
                 Those are nasty cuts.  How...

                           HEATHER
                 It happened during the earthquake.  I 
                 fell.  I want to see Dylan...

       But the doctor doesn't move out of the way.  She looks from 
       the cuts to Heather's face, seeing the fear and stress.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 In a moment, first let's see about you.

       She takes Heather's elbow.  Heather glances towards Julie, 
       then goes with her to...

       INT. DISPENSARY

       Heather sits while the doctor treats the cuts.  Heather's 
       obviously uneasy and wishing to be with her son, but the 
       Doctor isn't taking the cuts lightly, and is increasingly 
       alert to Heather's highly agitated state.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 If these had been a few inches nearer to 
                 the wrist... What did you say you cut 
                 yourself on?

                           HEATHER
                 It was an earthquake and it was dark.  I 
                 have no idea.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 These look quite fresh.

                           HEATHER
                 They are...it happened in tonight's 
                 quake.
                     (off her blank look)
                 It happened just fifteen minutes ago.  
                 You must've felt it.

       The doctor has no idea what she's talking about.

                           DR. HEFNER
                     (smiles faintly)
                 Guess we lucked out over here.

       Heather swallows.  The doctor begins bandaging.

                           DR. HEFNER (cont'd)
                 Your son, apparently, is terrified of a 
                 man. Someone he thinks is going to come 
                 out of his bed.
                     (off her look)
                 One of the nurses heard him talking in 
                 his sleep  You have any idea who that man 
                 might be, Mrs. Langenkamp?

       Heather winces as the woman binds the gauze with a clip.

                           HEATHER
                 I meant to bring him his dinosaur, Rex.  
                 Rex keeps Freddy from...

       Heather realizes what she's said, but too late.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 The man from your films?  Freddy Krueger 
                 with the claws?  Is that who he's afraid 
                 of?
                     (eyes flick to Heather's arm)
                 You have let your child see your films, 
                 haven't you?

       Heather turns and faces the woman, furious.

                           HEATHER
                 Every kid knows about Freddy.  He's like 
                 Santa Claus or King Kong.

       Dr. Hefner just eyes her, too appalled to take it further.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 I see.  Well.  Interesting talking to 
                 you, Ms. Langenkamp.  I hope you 
                 understand, my concerns are simply for 
                 the welfare of your son.

       She smiles thinly and leaves the room.

       INT. DYLAN'S HOSPITAL ROOM - NIGHT

       Dylan, now visible only through the plastic of an oxygen 
       tent.

       Heather sits next to her son's bed, exhausted.  Just watching 
       his slow breathing.  Trying to piece it all together.  

       A nurse passes, glances at Heather and exchanges a whispered 
       word with a SECOND NURSE.

       Heather, despite her best efforts, is nodding.  Suddenly 
       there's a shrill ALARM from a monitor and Dylan twists 
       sharply inside his tent, suffering what looks like the full 
       cardiac arrest.  Arched across the bed, fingers clawing the 
       air in silent agony.

       Heather jerks awake as several NURSES rush in, looks back to 
       Dylan, sees he's half sitting up now, his eyes open, peering 
       back at her with incredible intensity as he unzips the oxygen 
       tent.

       It stops her short.  She leans closer.

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan, honey.  You shouldn't do that!

       Dylan's face twists slowly into an uncanny imitation of an 
       old man, and the voice that comes out of this child's mouth 
       is absolutely recognizable, absolutely Freddy Krueger's.

                           DYLAN/FREDDY
                 Too late.  I'm almost there, Heather, I'm 
                 almost there.

       And with that Dylan vomits.  A huge involuntary convulsion 
       that sends green/black effluvia straight into her eyes!

       Heather lurches back, clawing at the stinging globs clinging 
       to her face, her hair.  We glimpse insects, worms and worse:

       QUICK CUTS

       Emergency machinery flying in.  Heather pushed back.  Nurses 
       scurrying.  The SOUND of Dylan CRYING in a daze for his 
       mother.

       Then Dr. Hefner strides in and roughly shoves the nurses 
       away.

                           HEATHER
                 Doctor...

                           DR. HEFNER
                     (to nurses)
                 Get her back!  I've got to go in!  Get me 
                 a full anesthetic, STAT!

                           NURSE
                 We don't have any here, doctor.

       The doctor, grim-faced and furious, wheels back to Dylan, 
       clawing the oxygen tent away.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 Screw it, then.  I'm going in!

       She rips the terrified child's gown away from his chest.

                           DR. HEFNER (cont'd)
                 Cut this evil out of him!

       And with that, she pulls her hand out of her bag and we see 
       the grim glove.  A medicalized version of the gleaming, 
       TINGING scalpel-sharp claws.  Dr. Hefner raises them to 
       plunge into the child. 

       Heather lurches forward.

                           HEATHER
                 Nooooo!

       STILL IN THE ROOM

       the crazed Dr. Hefner is not there.  But Heather has dived 
       right onto Dylan's bed.  Now several NURSES struggle to 
       subdue her.  Heather fights one last second, then realizes 
       what's happened.

                           NURSE
                 Now what have you done to yourself, Miss?

       Heather looks down and sees the blood seeping out from under 
       the bandage on her arm.  Then she looks back

       DYLAN'S BED.  The oxygen tent shredded.  And Dylan gone.  
       Heather loses it.

                           HEATHER
                 He's got him.  He's got my Dylan!

       The nurses wheel and stare at her.  Wild, trembling, and now 
       with a stark streak of gray slashed through her auburn hair!

                           NURSE
                 Who?  Who's got him?

       Heather sees the looks of people clearly thinking she's nuts.  
       But she doesn't give a shit.  She realizes now what's 
       happened in the brief moment she was asleep.

                           HEATHER
                     (low)
                 Freddy...

                           NURSE #2
                 Freddy...?
                     (laughs)
                 Who, Freddy Krueger or something?

       Just at that point the real Dr. Hefner comes in.  Takes in 
       the situation in an instant and asks

                           HEATHER
                 My baby.  Freddy's got my baby!  He's got 
                 my Dylan!

       The doctor seizes Heather roughly by the arms and shakes her 
       until she looks at him.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 Ms. Langenkamp.  I suggest you go home 
                 and get some rest.  Your son is fine.  
                 He's been taken downstairs for further 
                 testing.

                           HEATHER
                 He was just here!

                           DR. HEFNER
                     (as to a retarded child)
                 He was here.  You fell asleep.  We took 
                 him.  You looked so exhausted, frankly, 
                 we didn't wake you.  Besides, the young 
                 woman, Julie, is with him.  Believe me, 
                 everything is fine.

                           HEATHER
                 Everything is not fine!

       And she bolts out of the room.  Hefner swears under her 
       breath and snaps to a nurse.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 Call security.

       INT. TESTING AREA CORRIDOR

       MOVING WITH HEATHER HAND-HELD.  The woman in mid-argument 
       with several nurses as she charges down the corridor.

                           HEATHER
                 Where is he?

                           TESTING NURSE #1
                 This is a restricted area.  Do you have a 
                 pass?!

       The nurse tries to grab Heather.  Heather shoves her away 
       with a warning look.

                           HEATHER
                 Screw your pass!

       Just then Dr. Hefner catches up.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 It's all right, now...Ms. Langenkamp, 
                 just remain calm.
                     (glance to nurse)
                 Tell us how our boy is doing.

       The nurse flicks a look at Heather.

                           NEEDLE NURSE
                 He's fine, actually.  He came out of coma 
                 ten minutes ago.
                     (just to Hefner, lower)
                 It's looking like acute sleep 
                 deprivation.  I don't think she ever lets 
                 the kid get a night's sleep.

                           DR. HEFNER
                     (more to herself)
                 Munchausen syndrome...?

       Heather pushes over.

                           HEATHER
                 What're you saying?  Where is he?

       The door behind them opens and two SECURITY GUARDS appear.  
       Hefner stops them with a hand signal, hearing...

                           JULIE (O.S.)
                 Over here, Heather.

       Heather turns to see Julie, motioning from a door.  Beaming.

                           JULIE (cont'd)
                 Got someone here who wants to see you!

       INT. TESTING ROOM DOORWAY

       Heather runs into

       INT. TESTING ROOM

       Dylan's wide awake on a small examination table, and the 
       moment he sees Heather he holds out his arms.

       CLOSE ON THEM

       as they embrace, both speaking in whispers, affording 
       themselves the only privacy they can.

                           HEATHER
                 You okay, champ?

                           DYLAN
                 Can we go get Rex, now?  The bad man's 
                 getting awful close.

                           HEATHER
                 I know he is, sweetie.  We'll both go get 
                 Rex right now.

       She starts to pick up Dylan, then stops.  Dylan's looking 
       over her shoulder.  She turns and sees Dr. Hefner.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 I'm afraid Dylan really should stay with 
                 us until we know what's causing these 
                 episodes, Ms. Langenkamp.  I'm sure you 
                 understand.

       Heather looks back to Dylan.  Motions for Julie to come in 
       close with them.

                           HEATHER
                 Tell you what.  I'm gonna go get Rex for 
                 you right now.  You know home isn't far 
                 from here, right?

                           DYLAN
                     (remembering)
                 Right 'cross the freeway.

                           HEATHER
                 That's right.  So I won't be long.  
                 Meanwhile Julie's gonna be right here 
                 with you.

                           JULIE
                 You bet.

       Julie takes his hand. Dylan seems to take comfort in that, 
       but still he leans closer to Heather and begs.

                           DYLAN
                 Hurry back, please.  I'm sleepy.

                           HEATHER
                 Promise.  Cross my heart.
                     (kisses him)
                 But until Mommy gets back, Dylan, 
                 whatever you do, don't fall asleep.

       She turns to Julie.

                           HEATHER (cont'd)
                 Don't let him out of your sight, Julie.  
                 And keep him awake!

       Julie, thank God, accepts this at face value.

                           JULIE
                 I'll stick to him like glue, Heather.  
                 Swear to God.

       INT. TESTING ROOM DOORWAY

       Heather comes out and starts for the exit.  But she doesn't 
       get more than a few steps before the two Security Guards come 
       out of nowhere and take her by each elbow.

                           HEATHER
                 Hey!

       And before she knows it, Heather is hustled into the same 
       dispensary where Dr. Hefner patched her up earlier.  And 
       there the good doctor waits now.

       INT. TREATMENT ROOM - CONTINUOUS

       Heather is pressed into a chair by the guards.

                           HEATHER
                 DO you mind...

                           DR. HEFNER
                 Just a quick word, Ms. Langenkamp.  For 
                 Dylan's sake.

       The security men post themselves at the door.  Dr. Hefner 
       exchanges a glance with the nurses, and they vanish from the 
       room.  Heather has no choice right now.

                           DR. HEFNER (cont'd)
                 Well, it's been an exciting few days for 
                 you, hasn't it, Ms. Langenkamp?

                           HEATHER
                 If you don't mind, I've got something 
                 more important to do than to make small 
                 talk.

       She starts to rise but the doctor presses her back down with 
       a look that means business.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 Won't you please be patient.  All of this 
                 is just routine.

       INT. TESTING ROOM

       Julie and Dylan look up to see...

       INT. TESTING ROOM DOORWAY

       the two nurses enter.

       INT. TESTING ROOM

                           DYLAN
                 Uh-oh...

       Julie stands.  One nurse goes directly to a cabinet and 
       begins rummaging inside.  The second walks past Julie to 
       stand by Dylan.  Julie, instantly alert, crosses to the nurse 
       at the cabinet as the woman pulls out a very large needle and 
       vial.

                           NURSE AT CABINET
                 Would you mind stepping outside for just 
                 one moment, miss?

                           JULIE
                 As a matter of fact, I would.  What do 
                 you think you're doing?

       The nurse has already filled the syringe and now squirts out 
       the air bubble.

                           NURSE AT CABINET
                 Just a little shot to see that he gets 
                 some sleep.

                           JULIE
                 No way.  His mother specifically said...

       The nurse moves for Dylan.  Julie grabs her.  The nurse just 
       stops and looks at her with a strange smirk of a smile.

                           NURSE AT CABINET
                 Do it.

                           DYLAN (O.S.)
                 Ow!

       Julie spins around.  The second nurse is just withdrawing a 
       needle of her own from Dylan's arm, having caught both of 
       them off-guard.

                           NURSE #2
                     (childlike)
                 All done.

       Dylan lets out a little wail of despair.

                           NURSE AT CABINET (cont'd)
                 He'll be asleep in no time.  Mind letting 
                 go of my arm.

       Julie goes red.

                           JULIE
                 Bitch!

       And she brings around a left hook that sends the nurse 
       reeling backwards...

       INT. TESTING ROOM DOORWAY

       and out the door.  The woman lands flat on her back in the 
       hall!

       INT. TESTING ROOM

       Julie stares in shock, hardly believing she's done that.  As 
       the second nurse rears up behind her...

                           NURSE #2
                 Hey!  You can't do that!

       Julie grabs the large syringe dropped by the KO'd nurse and 
       levels it at the other.  Nurse #2 holds her own a moment, the 
       two facing each other needle to needle.

                           JULIE
                 I know what's in that one.  Do you know 
                 what's in this one?
                     (nurse #2 wavers)
                 Or what it'll do when I stick you with 
                 it?  And I will...

       She feints.  Nurse #2 drops her syringe like a hot potato and

       INT. TESTING ROOM DOORWAY

       runs out the room!  Julie slams the door and locks it.  
       Then...

       INT. TESTING ROOM

       she runs to Dylan.

                           JULIE
                 Dylan.  Don't fall asleep!  Dylan!

       INT. TREATMENT ROOM - CONTINUOUS

       Dr. Hefner pulls up a stool and sits directly before Heather, 
       leaning in closer still.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 Ms. Langenkamp, has...there been any use 
                 of recreational drugs in your family?  Or 
                 any history of mental disturbance?

       Heather's eyes flash with barely suppressed rage.

                           HEATHER
                 What the hell are you asking?

       The woman raises her hands in a practiced non-threatening 
       gesture.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 Please don't take this wrong.  But if 
                 there was, there's a good chance Dylan 
                 could be suffering from something passed 
                 down to him.
                     (leaning closer)
                 Have you been suffering from any 
                 delusional events, Ms. Langenkamp?

       Heather starts to stand again, but this time the security 
       guards push her back down.  Heather looks back to Dr. Hefner, 
       a cold snake of fear now coiling up her spine.

                           DR. HEFNER (cont'd)
                 This man from your films...Freddy 
                 Krueger... Have you been seeing him?

                           HEATHER
                 No!

       Heather looks down.  The bandage on her arm is seeping blood.  
       She looks back to Hefner, a flick of desperation in her eyes.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 There are drugs and treatments, Ms. 
                 Langenkamp.  We could place Dylan in 
                 foster care for a short while.  Run some 
                 tests on you...

       Heather cuts Hefner off with a deadly cold wave of her hand.  
       Gets up.  Bumps against the guards.

                           HEATHER
                 I want my kid out of here now!

                           DR. HEFNER
                 Very well. As soon as we gather the 
                 appropriate papers...

                           HEATHER
                 You don't understand.  If Dylan falls 
                 asleep,then...

       Heather turns at an O.S. SOUND

       INT. TESTING ROOM

       POUNDING ON THE DOOR FROM THE NURSES OUTSIDE, and Julie is 
       shaking Dylan as hard as she can without hurting him. But 
       despite all this, the injection is having its way.  Dylan is 
       sagging before her very eyes.  Eyelids fluttering, words 
       slurring...

                           DYLAN
                 Where's mommy?  Where's...

       Then his head lolls onto his shoulders.

       CLOSE ON HIS EYE.  CLOSING.  Then opening just a crack, 
       seeing

       SOMETHING BIG AND DARK AND AWFUL rising behind Julie.  
       Something with long, vicious claws at the ends of his 
       gleaming steel fingers.

                           DYLAN (cont'd)
                     (faint)
                 Julie, behind you!

       She turns.  There's nothing there for her to see.

       But DYLAN SEES THE CLAWS RAISE OVER JULIE, then fall onto her 
       like the scythe of the Grim Reaper himself.

       FROM OUR POV, JULIE lets out a scream and is hauled up into 
       mid-are by an invisible but horrible force just as

       INT. TESTING ROOM DOORWAY

       The door behind bursts open.  The two nurses barge in, then 
       freeze, seeing

       INT. TESTING ROOM

       A SCREAMING, WRITHING JULIE lifted into the air by invisible 
       hands, then flung to the floor.  Next moment she's being 
       dragged bodily up the wall, leaving a scarlet trail of life's 
       blood.  Dylan jerks suddenly up into amulatory sleep.  
       Eyes glazed, face rigid and pale.  And Julie smashes to the 
       floor behind him.  The nurses scream at a terror they could 
       never in a million years imagine

       INT. TESTING ROOM DOORWAY

       and Dylan runs out of the room and is gone!

       INT. TREATMENT ROOM - CONTINUOUS

       Heather, as the security guards react to the screams and race 
       from the room, gives one look to Dr. Hefner.  The woman 
       frozen in fear.  She then turns and bolts from the room.

       INT. CORRIDOR

       HEATHER RACES BY CAMERA as a nurse running from Julie's room 
       stops the security guards.

                           NURSE ABBOTT
                 Forget it.  Nothing you can do there.  
                 Call the cops.  Now!

       The guards tear off in another direction.  Heather races down 
       to the testing room and looks inside.

       HEATHER'S POV

       Blood everywhere.  But no Dylan.

       INT. CORRIDOR

       She turns to Nurse #2.

                           HEATHER
                 My son.  Did you see my son?

                           NURSE #2
                     (in shock)
                 I...thought he was here...I thought...

       Then Dr. Hefner's there.  Not seeing yet into the room.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 No way he's going anywhere.  He's been 
                 well sedated.

                           HEATHER
                 He doesn't have to be awake to be on his 
                 feet.

                           DR. HEFNER
                 What?

                           HEATHER
                 He sleepwalks, you idiot!  He's fully 
                 capable of walking out of this hospital.
                     (swallows, realizing)
                 Oh my God...He thinks I've gone home...

       Without another word she turns and runs out.

       EXT. HOSPITAL PARKING LOT - NIGHT

       HEATHER'S VOLVO roars down the ramp and onto the street, 
       narrowly missing a collision, screaming off into the night.

       INT. HEATHER'S VOLVO

       Heather drives as fast as she can, scans the streets while 
       she's punching up a number on her carphone.  It rings and is 
       picked up by a sleepy

                           JOHN SAXON
                 John Saxon.  Do you have any idea what 
                 time it is?

                           HEATHER
                 John.  It's Heather.  I need help!

                           JOHN SAXON
                     (instantly alert)
                 You got it.  What's happening?

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan's run away from the hospital.  I 
                 don't know whether he's wandering around 
                 or heading for the house.  But I think 
                 Freddy's after him.  I know it sounds 
                 crazy!

                           JOHN SAXON
                 You're right.  That sounds crazy!

                           HEATHER
                 John.  Will you please just look for him 
                 around the hospital?  I'm gonna go right 
                 to the house.
                     (near tears)
                 Will you help me, John?  Please!

       There's a beat.  Then.

                           JOHN SAXON
                 I'm on my way.  You go home, Heather.  
                 That's the smart thing to do.  I'll call 
                 you there!

       Now Heather is crying.

                           HEATHER
                 Thank you, John.  I'll never forget...

       She doesn't get anything else.  She sees something so 
       chilling through her windshield, she just slams on the brakes 
       and stares in disbelief.

       INT/EXT. HEATHER'S VOLVO

       WE ZOOM ACROSS THE STREET TO AN EMBANKMENT.  UP THE 
       EMBANKMENT.  TO THE TINY FIGURE up there in cowboy pajamas.  
       Doggedly clawing his way up through the weeds and cresting 
       the hill.  There, lit now by the flare of a thousand 
       headlights, is Dylan, staring across either lanes of high-
       speed traffic.  Trying to see his home!

       EXT. STREET/EMBANKMENT - NIGHT

       Heather leaps out of the car and screams at the top of her 
       lungs.

                           HEATHER
                 Dylannnnnnn!!!!

       ANGLE WITH DYLAN

       on the edge of the freeway.  Traffic roaring by, wind ripping 
       through his hair.  Somehow in all this din he still hears his 
       mother and turns.

       SEEING HER RUNNING ACROSS THE STREET 

       starting up the steep embankment after him.

                           HEATHER (cont'd)
                 Dylan!  Stay right there!

       But then he looks up and reacts.

       AND IN HIS POV WE SEE

       the night sky.  A giant bank of clouds, moving, twisting, 
       changing into a huge, DARK FIGURE in a wide-brimmed hat, 
       peering out from behind the clouds in frightening silhouette.  
       It looks down on him with glowing, leering eyes.  And then 
       the huge steel claws poke through the very fabric of the 
       night, rendering it asunder as the light of the full moon 
       catches in their wicked curves.

       Without another choice, Dylan turns and runs into traffic.

       Instantly, there's a BLARE OF AIRHORNS and semi-tractor 
       trailer is screaming down on him.  Momentarily blinded by its 
       headlights, Dylan barely manages to dance sideways enough, 
       and the truck misses him by inches!  But this puts Dylan 
       directly in the path of a SPEEDING CAR coming up in the next 
       lane.  He freezes, the car swerves and screams around him so 
       close his clothes are ruffled by the wind!

       ON HEATHER

       hearing the BRAKES AND HORNS.  She convulses in horror and 
       lets out a scream of her own.  Then redoubles her efforts, 
       clawing her way over the fence and up the hill!

       WITH DYLAN

       staggering for the median strip, three howling lanes away!

       WITH HEATHER

       topping the embankment.

       IN HER POV

       seeing in horror her son, missed and missed again by inches, 
       unable to cross the last two lanes.

       CUTTING WITH DYLAN

       as a huge CLAWED HAND stabs into FRAME, plucking him up and 
       swinging him with merciless sport, in and out of the path of 
       oncoming cars!

       BACK TO HEATHER

       about to start after him, then, to her amazement, SEEING

       DYLAN

       no claw visible whatsoever, just lifting into the air against 
       all laws of physics, nearly dashed to oblivion time and time 
       again.

                           HEATHER (cont'd)
                 Freddy!  You bastard!  Take me!

       And she runs straight for him!

       A TANKER TRUCK

       slams on all brakes, hews sideways.  Heather sees it coming, 
       turns and runs for her life.  But it's coming too fast.  
       She dives, tucks and looks up just in time to see the whole 
       massive tanker sweep right over her head!  Cars are slewing 
       every which way, but she stumbles back up and presses on.  
       Her terror surpassed only by her utter resolve to get to

       DYLAN

       the blade of the claw cuts clear through his PJ's.  He drops 
       hard.  He jumps up and darts through a gap in the median 
       fence.

       HEATHER

       leaps for her life as a station wagon blurs past her without 
       even seeing her.  Then she looks up to see a second car, 
       brakes smoking and screaming, coming right at her!  She's too 
       paralyzed by fear to move, and the car hits her just before 
       it stops, knocking her flying.  A moment later the freeway on 
       her side grinds to a halt.

       Already people are out of their cars and running to her aid.  
       But on the other side of the median strip, the brakes are 
       still SCREAMING!

       WITH DYLAN

       looking back to his mother's side.  Then seeing dozens and 
       dozens of FREDDYS suddenly peering at him over the brink of 
       the median wall.  Dylan turns and runs, and somehow, by 
       absolute miracle, makes it to the far side, plunging down the 
       embankment!

       WITH HEATHER

       dazed, but fighting her way up.  She pulls away from the 
       helping arms and staggers after her son!

       EXT. HEATHER'S STREET - NIGHT

       Heather stumbles and limps down the street, bloodied and 
       bruised, but moving.  She stops in front of her house.

       The front door is open.  She runs in

       INT. KITCHEN/DEN

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan!!!

       She listens, hears something, then sees the shadow of a man 
       ease out from the dark kitchen!  She gives a scream and 
       shrinks back.  Then sees it's

       JOHN SAXON

                           JOHN SAXON
                 Holy...

                           HEATHER
                 Where's Dylan?!  Have you seen him?

       Saxon tries to soothe her.

                           JOHN SAXON
                 Relax, Nancy.  Relax!

       He points.  Heather, not knowing what the hell's going on 
       with him using Nancy's name, turns and looks:

       DYLAN

       toddling out of his room, holding his guard dinosaur, Rex.  
       The child's eyes are still glazed, and he's definitely not 
       awake, but he's singing softly...

                           DYLAN
                 One two, Freddy's coming...Freddy's 
                 coming...

       Heather races over and hugs him.  So hard Saxon's afraid 
       she'll hurt the kid.

                           JOHN SAXON
                 What in the world happened?

       Heather just hugs Dylan, trying not to cry.

                           HEATHER
                 I know how Chase really died.

                           JOHN SAXON
                 What are you talking about?

                           HEATHER
                 Fred Krueger did it.

                           JOHN SAXON
                 Yeah, sure.

       Heather looks at Dylan.

                           HEATHER
                 You saw him, didn't you, Dylan!?

                           DYLAN
                     (in deep trance)
                 Coming for you...

       Saxon gently pulls Heather away.

                           JOHN SAXON
                 Hey, come outside a minute.  I need to 
                 talk to you.

       He pulls her up and marches her towards the front door.

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan!

       Dylan, sucking his thumb now, has turned to stare back at his 
       bedroom, apparently not hearing her.

                           JOHN SAXON
                 Jesus, what the hell's going on, Nancy?

       heather looks at him, dazed.  Saxon pulls her outside and 
       closes the door.

       EXT. HEATHER'S FRONT YARD

       Something is different.  Heather registers it subconsciously 
       the moment they're through the door, but she's too focused on 
       Saxon's strange misnomer for her...

                           HEATHER
                 John, why are you calling me Nancy?

       Saxon looks at her.

                           JOHN SAXON
                 Why are you calling me John?

       She glances back at the house, trying to see Dylan.  Can't.  
       She looks back at Saxon, and reacts in shock!

       He's staring back at her from in front of an UNMARKED POLICE 
       CAR with its magnetic dome light flashing.  Those of us with 
       a good memory might even realize that it's the identical car 
       that LT. THOMPSON drove in NIGHTMARE I.  And even more mind-
       boggling, he's now dressed in the wardrobe of Lt. Thompson 
       from the same film!

                           JOHN SAXON/LT. THOMPSON
                 Nancy, you gotta get hold of yourself 
                 before you make both yourself and that 
                 kid nuts.

       Heather weaves slightly, not knowing what kind of sick joke 
       this is but determined to wrestle it back into a reality she 
       can deal with.

                           HEATHER
                 John...
                     (Saxon stops, looks at her 
                      pained and confused)
                 Would you call Robert?

       He stares at her.

                           JOHN SAXON/LT. THOMPSON
                 Robert?

                           HEATHER
                 Robert Englund.  You know.  The actor who 
                 plays Freddy?

       Saxon/Lt. Thompson grows instantly guarded.

                           JOHN SAXON/LT. THOMPSON
                 Freddy who?

                           HEATHER
                 You know who.  Freddy Krueger.

       Saxon/Lt. Thompson colors, then, struggling to keep his voice 
       controlled.

                           JOHN SAXON/LT. THOMPSON
                 Freddy's dead, Nancy.  Now don't lose it 
                 like your mother.

       Heather steps back, stung.  Saxon/Lt. Thompson instantly 
       regrets having said that.  Comes back and hugs Heather 
       fiercely.

                           JOHN SAXON/LT. THOMPSON
                 I love you, sweetheart.  Don't ever 
                 forget that.

       He turns and gets in the car.

                           HEATHER
                 I love you too, Daddy...

       Tears spring to her eyes and for some reason she gives a deep 
       shudder, as we...

       INT. DYLAN'S ROOM - NIGHT

       DYLAN'S BED, as something starts to rise from under its 
       blankets.  Something big and powerful.  Rising to a full 
       man's height and still coming.  And then the claws are poking 
       through, breaking out.  And we SEE FREDDY, a hulking, dark 
       silhouette of pure evil.

       EXT. OUTSIDE ELM STREET HOUSE - NIGHT

       CLOSE ON SAXON/LT. THOMPSON AND HEATHER/HEATHER, Saxon 
       leaning out of the car.

                           JOHN SAXON/LT. THOMPSON
                 Now get yourself some rest, Nancy... 
                 please?

       He starts the engine and siren.  Then the dome lights.  He 
       roars away.  Heather stares after him in shock a moment, then 
       realizes that everything is different.  This isn't her front 
       yard at all.  Even her wardrobe has changed.  She's now 
       wearing the same pajamas she wore in our opening boiler room 
       nightmare.  She feels the cold chill up her spine.  Turns 
       around and looks at her house.

       THE HOUSE ON ELM STREET

       stares back at her.  Its windows barred.  Its front door 
       swinging open in the wind.

       Then she hears her child's SCREAM.  

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan!

       She races inside and the iron reinforced door slams shut 
       behind her!

       INT. HEATHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT

       Interestingly, it's still Heather's house inside.  She shakes 
       herself to make sure she's not dreaming...

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan?

       No answer.  She crosses to the kitchen and picks up the 
       largest kitchen knife she can find.  Then she becomes aware 
       of the television set.  She reacts in shock.

       HER POV OF TV SCREEN

       Nancy and Lt. Thompson (Heather and John Saxon) mid-dialogue 
       from the final moments of NIGHTMARE I, and what they say on-
       screen matches exactly what they've just said in the previous 
       scene.

                           NANCY (TV)
                 Fred Krueger did it, Daddy.

                           LT. THOMPSON (TV)
                 Yeah, sure...

       The transformation is complete.

       INT. HEATHER'S HOUSE - NIGHT

       Then she notices something on the floor.  She stops and picks 
       it up.

                           HEATHER
                     (seeing what it is)
                 Dylan's sleeping pills...

       She looks again.  There's another.  And farther on, another.  
       A trail, leading towards Dylan's room.

       INT. DYLAN'S ROOM - NIGHT

       Heather enters.  Knife ready, turning on the light and 
       picking up another capsule.  Then she notices two things: the 
       disemboweled remains of Rex flung on the floor near the foot 
       of the bed, and then still another pill, on the blanket near 
       the pillows.

       She picks this pill up.  Then, on impulse, lifts the blanket 
       and looks under.  Two more pills, on in the middle, one far 
       down towards the bottom.  She pulls the blanket all the way 
       back.  Nothing but bed, then floor.

       Then Heather realizes...

                           HEATHER
                 He's given me the only way I can join 
                 him.

       She closes her eyes and takes the pills.  All of them.  
       Swallows.  Turns back to the bed, lifts the cover again.

       IN HER POV UNDER THE COVERS

       There's another pill there now, so far down she has to get 
       under the blanket to reach it.  She tucks the knife in her 
       belt and crawls under.

       UNDER THE BLANKETS

       Heather picks up the capsule, starts to squiggle back out, 
       then, again on impulse, lifts the blanket at the very bottom 
       of the bed.

       INT. TRICK BED/CHUTE

       And this time, instead of the edge of the mattress and floor 
       beyond, only more sheet is revealed.  Going on another five 
       or six feet.  And sloping downwards.  And down there, near 
       the place where sheet and blanket come together, is another 
       pill.  Heather starts down for it.

       WITH HER DOWN THERE

       now completely within the softly glowing tent of blanket, 
       pitched downward awkwardly, she picks up the pill and takes 
       it and the other.  And just...has to lift the blanket and 
       check if there's one more.

       What is revealed is a steep slope of sheet dropping away 
       sharply into what could be infinity, it goes so far.  Heather 
       draws back, intimidated.  Yawns and starts to crawl back out.  
       Then hears the VOICE from down there.

                           DYLAN
                     (distant)
                 Mommmeeee!

       And then the unmistakable LAUGHTER OF FREDDY.  Heather closes 
       her eyes and dives forward without hesitation.

       MOVING WITH HER

       a wild, half OVER-HER-SHOULDER, HALF POV SHOT plunging down a 
       well of bedding into darkness and then

       RUDDY LIGHT

       wet stone walls shooting by at great speed, then

       AN ANCIENT STONE FACADE

       Heather flies out of a stone flume in this wall amid coursing 
       water, pitching out into thin air and out of frame!

       INT. FREDDY'S BOILER ROOM 

       UP ANGLE to a toothed rectangle in some ancient ceiling.  
       Above is darkness, out of which falls Heather/Nancy.

       She plunges down into the deep, fetid water of some 
       horrendous catch of basin.  She surfaces, gasping and half 
       drowned, looking around.

       She finds herself lit in hellish hues by the flames licking 
       through a monumental wall of furnaces behind her.  
       Galleries of stone and vistas of a city of Night stretch out 
       in all directions.  The heavy drizzle of condensed steam is 
       everywhere.  And there is a palpable feeling of...Evil

                           HEATHER
                 D...Dylan?

       Her only answer is the horrific SOUND OF STEEL NAILS 
       SCRATCHING ALONG STEEL.  A sound a thousand times worse than 
       fingernails on a chalkboard!

       She reaches under the red water, coming up with the butcher 
       knife.  Then turns and splashes towards the last sound.

       She searches the vast room, then stops, hearing the 
       faintest...

                           DYLAN (O.S.)
                 Mommy?

       She races across the chamber towards the wall of flame, and 
       there at its base is DYLAN.  Crouched alone in front of a 
       huge furnace, backlit by the angry flames.  And he's holding 
       something.  A sheaf of papers.  And the whole dimension falls 
       quiet as he holds it out to her...

       Heather starts for him, then warily stops, alert for a trap.

                           HEATHER
                 Dylan, where's the man?

                           DYLAN
                     (indicating the sheaf of 
                      papers)
                 Here.

       She splashes to him.  Drops the knife on a sill of a furnace 
       and takes him in her arms.  

       CLOSE ON THE TWO

       a long, tender embrace.  Heather looks at his face.  He seems 
       alright.  Then she looks at the papers in his hand.

                           HEATHER
                 What...what is that?

                           DYLAN
                 A story?

       Heather finds herself seized by the strangest compulsion to 
       look, despite where she is.  She opens a page towards the 
       back at random.  And smiles grimly.

                           HEATHER
                 Yes.  It's a story.  A story for a movie.

                           DYLAN
                 Read me some?

       Heather just shakes her head, incredulous at the eerie 
       accuracy of the writing...

                           HEATHER
                     (reading)
                 "At last his mother finds him.  She gives 
                 him a long, happy hug.  And then looks at 
                 the pages.  'Story?' the little boy asks.  
                 'Yes,' says his mother.  'A story of us.'  
                 And the mother takes the book and begins 
                 to read."
                     (Heather looks at him and 
                      laughs' reads more)
                 "And as she begins to read, from behind 
                 her there comes...There comes..."

       She stiffens, realizing, twists around and at the same split 
       second he strikes.  The true FREDDY, huge and dark and 
       incredibly fast.  Slamming into her and lifting her up in his 
       clawed hands.  Snatching away the script and flinging it into 
       the fire.

                           FREDDY
                 Meet your maker!

       He lifts his arm to strike, then lets out the most GOD AWFUL 
       SCREAM IMAGINABLE!

       LOW ANGLE ON DYLAN

       down there on the deck with the big knife jammed into the 
       back of Freddy's right knee!

       FREDDY

       goes down like a fallen Seqouia clawing for the child.  

       DYLAN springs backwards barely out of reach of the monster  
       Heather leaps onto the monster's back, pulling him off.  And 
       Dylan is free.

                           HEATHER
                 Run, Dylan!

       And run he does.  Freddy twists Heather around and flings her 
       across the room into a stone pillar.  Heather hits hard and 
       doesn't move.  Freddy turns and SEES

       DYLAN

       dodging through an archway and disappearing.

       FREDDY

       pulls out the knife and flings it away.  Takes off after him 
       like a tiger after a fawn.

       MOVING WITH DYLAN

       through this lowest level of hell.  Fire and steam and 
       gushing water the only elements, splashing through to a low 
       staircase, turning to see

       FREDDY

       huge and fierce, splashing after him, claws flashing!

       DYLAN

       turns and runs deeper into the light of fire, reaching.

       A FINAL CHAMBER

       a huge furnace ending the passage.  With one last look over 
       his shoulder telling him he must do something fast.  Dylan 
       climbs like a little monkey and disappears into the maw of 
       the huge furnace.  This one not fired up but still lit from 
       within by a huge PILOT FLAME.

       INT. FURNACE

       Dylan jumps the flame and lands singed but safe on the far 
       side of the fire pit, safe for the moment as Freddy slams 
       into the opening of the furnace, reaching for him.  And 
       though he's too big to get in fast, his claws are inching 
       closer and closer, inches now from the boy's body!

       INT. FIRST ROOM

       Heather drags herself up, half dead, but hearing the SCREAMS 
       OF DYLAN turning to see Freddy head and shoulders inside the 
       distant furnace.  She races back and retrieves the knife.

       INT. FURNACE

       Dylan looks behind, spies an access port barely larger than 
       his head, leading outside the furnace.  Knowing it's his only 
       chance, he instantly squeezes himself into it just as 
       FREDDY'S CLAW SNAGS HIS PAJAMAS, pulling him back.

       INT. MIDDLE CHAMBER

       Heather splashes through the ankle deep water, coming fast 
       with blood in her eye!  She reaches the stairs and suddenly 
       sinks to her knees in sticky goo, flailing and clawing to 
       pull herself free!

       INT. FURNACE

       Freddy, lit like a demon in hell by the flame of the pilot, 
       reeling the kid in inch by inch.

                           FREDDY
                 Gonna eat you up...

       He has Dylan now, pulling him up to his face, opening his 
       mouth wider and wider, unhinging his jaw like some horrendous 
       snake, when suddenly he

       CONVULSES and drops Dylan then lets out a WAIL.

       OUTSIDE FURNACE

       Heather has made it there in time and has the knife buried 
       deep between Freddy's legs, her body blocking sight of 
       exactly where.  But we get the idea.  She shoves it hard and 
       twists.  Freddy HOWLS and fills the world.

       INSIDE FURNACE

       Dylan squeezes through a tiny aperture!

       VENT PASSAGE JUST OUTSIDE FURNACE

       Dylan looks and sees 

       HIS POV

       down this narrow passage and through a grill to Heather, 
       pushing at Freddy's kicking feet!

       Dylan rushes to help

       OUTSIDE THE FURNACE

       the side vent grill pops and Dylan jumps out, and at the same 
       instant Freddy pulls his legs fully inside in terrified 
       panic.  Together, HEATHER AND DYLAN SLAM the main furnace 
       door and bolt it.

       The screams are deafening.  Heather backs away, horrified.  
       But Dylan climbs right up on the furnace, reaching for the 
       rusted iron lever just above the door and pulls down hard!

       Instantly there's a DEEP RUMBLE and the furnace fills with a 
       huge GOUT OF FLAME!  The child falls back amid deafening 
       screams from inside the furnace.  Heather sweeps Dylan up and 
       staggers off!

       INSIDE THE FURNACE

       INSIDE THE FLAMES, as Freddy's screams roar and a huge, 
       gargantuan Freddy starts to outglow the flames themselves!  
       Flame sprouts from his arms and claws.  His head blossoms 
       with light and then he's blindingly brilliant, rising, 
       WHITING OUT THE SCREEN, and his screams turn to terrifying 
       laughter.   The we...

       INT. DYLAN'S ROOM - FIRST LIGHT

       His bed, as the blanket bumps up yet again, and Dylan and 
       Heather fall out onto the floor.  Heather, wet, shivering and 
       bloodied, turns and pulls the blanket completely off the bed, 
       wrapping it around herself and her child.  And of course 
       there is nothing behind them now but...bed.

       Heather turns to Dylan and pulls his head against her breast.  
       She looks to the clock.  It changes from 6:59AM to 7:00.  
       Then she looks to the floor.

       There's something there, bound loosely with three brads.

       She picks it up and opens it.  A script.  Finished now.  She 
       looks at its top page

       CU OF TITLE PAGE

                            NE7 - THE ASCENSION

       starring:

       Heather Langenkamp.......as herself

       Robert Englund...........as himself

                                         CONTINUE ROLLING CREDITS...