/* Link to trailer

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dCVh4lBfW-c

*/

I woke up in a strange place. It was like a basement with all sorts of pipes running through the rooms. A fire was burning somewhere nearby, and I could see the glow of it on the walls. My right hand felt strange, so I looked at it and saw that it was wearing a metal glove with long blades attached to the fingers. It reminds me of something. I looked at my hands again, and then I realized it was all a dream. I was Freddy Krueger, and the world around me was my personal nightmare, I mean, my home.

Looking around again, I noticed that the dream is... dream. In other words, it wasn't a real world. These were only images, forming a whole, but very abstract picture. Previously, I always perceived the world not just three-dimensional, but multidimensional. I saw secret levels of world that controlled three-dimensional reality. Here the world was... limited. It was flat and drawn. Everything was just images, pictures. Only not drawn on paper, but depicted as a three-dimensional environment. But that didn't change the essence.

And there was another feature. My magic, chakra, and psionics didn't work. The laws of the world didn't prevent it. Because this world was unreal. The dream wasn't real, so the usual rules of the real world didn't apply. I could 'create' a fireball or materialize a ton of gold, but it was just my imagination. I didn't need magic to do that.

But the worst thing about this situation was that I felt myself in a dream... like in a dream. In other words, my mind floated, lost in the details, clinging to images. In general, I felt like a drunk alcoholic. This was completely different from the crystal-clear state of mind I had been in for the past few decades. Right now, I didn't feel like I needed to go anywhere, so I chose a more comfortable spot and went into meditation, trying to regain control of my mind.

It is difficult to say how long the meditation took, but in the end, I managed to concentrate on the feeling of my 'I' and build around it a consciousness filled with my ‘will’. I got the impression that this was my psionic abilities, which had adapted to a new way of life.

When I opened my eyes, I felt that I was now the starting point, the center of the universe, and the Will of God. Oddly enough, this state was close to embodying the principles of the world of Order. I was the law that created the world around me. As sung in one song: ‘don't bend under the changing world, let it bend under us'. That's what I was doing now. By the very fact of my existence, I bent the surrounding reality, forming images of the dream world.

However, after a while, when I got used to this state, I muffled the intensity of my influence to the world around me. For now, it was better to portray an ordinary Freddy Krueger, who did not shine with strategic thinking and clarity of mind.

Having risen to my feet and headed for the exit of the boiler room I was in. This little world was a refuge for the real Freddy Krueger. Here his existence was an immutable law of the universe. Here he might have been resurrected if someone had able to kill him. In general, according to my feelings, now I was some strange form of existence that could be called a 'demon of dream’.

Along the way, I thought about the connection between the world of Dreams and the world of Chaos. The two worlds were similar, but there were differences. Dreams were connected not only to Chaos, but also to Order. I was now in fact the 'angel of Order' in this bedbug. The methods of magic I knew didn't work. Even ritual magic didn't work. More precisely, it worked somehow, but the result of this work was not observed.

When I opened the front door of the boiler room, I found that there was a deserted open space ahead. There was no sky, but instead a kind of gloom hung above, in which floated streams of gray fog. The same fog obscured the horizon, making the viewable world not so big.

"Hey, you! Come here! How long can we wait?” - I heard a distant voice.

And after a couple of seconds, just a couple of steps away from me, the owner of voice appeared. At first glance, he might mistakenly recognize as a Buddhist monk. At least he was dressed in typical Buddhist rags, his head was bald, and he carried a staff. Except that the rags were not orange, but dirty gray, in perfect harmony with the color scheme of the world around them. The staff ended in the snarling skull of a creature. And the eyes of the 'monk' shined with a bright infernal fire.

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"How long can you sit in this hole? Let’s go, it's time to start.”

Well, if it's time to start, so be it. I didn't argue, and followed the guide. Suddenly our movement accelerated through the local wastelands, and we found ourselves next to the company of some maniacs. However, I'm now Freddy Krueger, which means I'm a maniac too. I need to get used to my new role.

The crowd consisted of six people. The first thing that caught my eye was a guy in a hockey mask with a huge cleaver in his hand. Next to him stood a man with a deformed face and a chainsaw on his shoulder. A little to one side, a man of intelligent appearance sat on a rock, but his front was covered by a leather apron stained with blood, and in his hands were two butcher knives. The others didn't look any better. Only a woman who looked like a worn-out whore in her forties looked different on this masculine society. She didn't seem to have a weapon, but I didn't relax. Looks like there's a whole menagerie gathered here.

"Line up!" – Monk commanded. The people began to lazily and stupidly try to stand in one line. I perched on the edge, trying not to get too close to the 'neighbor'. "Name yourself one by one. Let's start with you.”

Since I stood on the edge, the last sentence was addressed to me.

“Freddy Krueger.” - I said.

"Jason Voorhees." - Masked man said. His voice sounded deaf, because there was no opening for his mouth in the mask.

"Jack the Ripper." - That was the butcher in the apron.

"Dexter Morgan." - This guy did not give the impression of a maniac, unless you look him in the eye.

"This is Thomas Hewitt.” - Monk introduced next participant of the show. It seems that this individual could not even speak. As confirmation, he turned on his chainsaw and roared loudly.

"Michael Myers," - Next maniac croaked. His face was covered with a white leather mask, and in his hand he twisted a large knife.

"Aileen Wuornos." - The whore introduced herself, saying her name as if she were going to leap at the monk and gnaw his throat out.

“Great!” - Monk nodded. - "You can call me Baku. You are all demons of dreams from now on. You draw strength from the fears of people whom you come in dreams. The meaning of your life is to kill innocent people. Anyone who knows your name or image can become your victim. Under my guidance, you will become real demons, able to make reality the worst nightmares of people. But first I will tell you what the dream world is.

"What the fuck do I need?" - The whore shouted. Consonant roar of a chainsaw joined to her. Monk didn't answer, but two disobedient students screamed and rolled on the ground, trying to scratch their eyes out.

"So, the world of dreams.” - Lecturer continued, as if nothing was happening. - "Some of you know that there are many worlds and dimensions. These universes never intersect and each exists on its own. But the dream world is different. This world is not the world of being. It consists of images that occur in the dreams of all living beings in the universe. Yes, the world of dreams unites all worlds. No matter in which universe you go the world of dreams there will be same. This world is infinite. It has everything that can exist. But unlike the realms of real world, dreams are only temporary shelter for souls. Only we demons of dreams can live here permanently. As long as you remember your existence, you are immortal. As long as you can instill fear in people's hearts, you will have power over this world. As long as at least one living being remembers you, you will be able to visit the world where it lives, looking for new victims. But enough of this. I see that some of you are almost asleep, unable to realize the greatness of this place. But I want to warn you. As soon as you fall asleep, you will cease to exist. Demons of dreams should not sleep. Ha-ha. Instead of our own dreams, we have other people's. So, now each of you will get a list of people that you will need to kill. However, this is the recommended minimum. You can kill a lot more. You can kill dozens or hundreds of people every night. It all depends on you. And here is your first task - select one person from the list, enter their dream and make them experience fear, because of which they will wake up with a cry of horror.”

At this point, Baku's monologue stopped, and he literally disappeared into the fog. While this lecture was going on, a mist came down from the sky and surrounded us. A second later, sheets of paper flew out of the fog. I caught the one that flew up to me and saw five names written on it by hand. The handwriting was clumsy, but I could read out all names. But the main thing, of course, was not the grammar, but the image embedded in these names. When I saw them, I realized that I can now visit the dream of any of these five.

"All you must obey me!" – One of maniacs yelled.

I couldn't distinguish who it was, but seems Jack the Ripper is trying to be a leader. I did not enter into the discussion, but walked away, disappearing in the fog. Having made only a couple of steps, I imagined that I approached my boiler room. The iron-clad door popped out of the fog at my first call. I opened it and went into such a familiar room. This place was the source of my strength. Here I was God of the Dream world.