I don't own anything! Don't sue me! Also, this is my first fanfic attempt ever. Be gentle? :) [Oh yeah, Christine WOULD be considered my imaginative creation...guess I do own something...]

Chapter 1: Introductions

"Mmm..what I wouldn't give to stay in here forever." Christine's moan of approval slipped past her lips before she even thought to keep the remark to herself. After the fact, she slapped her right hand over her mouth with a giggle.

Christine was taking a long-awaited shower to try and warm up her cold limbs. Feeling the harshly warm water cascade down her aching and increasingly tired body was almost enough to want to stay in there for hours on end. A grin graced her features at the thought.

She had been working on homework, intermittently disturbed by some movie watching. Not to mention sporadically wriggling around on her computer chair to various tunes. Unfortunately, the little breaks that Christine let herself indulge in made it so that it was nearly three in the morning before what she had planned out for the day was finally done. She really needed to keep quiet and not cause a racket in the bathroom.

Sighing at the borderline boiling water that was enveloping her body, Christine allowed her eyes to flutter shut…

When she opened her eyes once more, she was shocked to find herself in a boiler room of sorts that definitely looked worse for the wear. Christine took in her surroundings, reeling at the fact that just a moment ago she was lathering her body. Shocked, she looked down to realize that she also was naked.

"Wonderful…" Christine muttered under her breath, trying to figure out just how her limbs could be positioned to be as least exposed as possible. She decided to sit on her knees and crossed her arms over her chest. Darting her eyes to and fro, Christine decided that here was no way in hell that she was going to explore this freakish place.

The boiler room seemed to have a life of its own, and it was making Christine jittery. Steam coursed out of different pipes, some intentionally, but the majority due to poor upkeep. 'Who the hell takes care of this place?' thought Christine. Better yet, why the hell was she there?

Just then, Christine thought she heard the shriek of metal. It sent a shiver down to her core, and she wrapped her arms around herself tighter. 'Bloody fucking hell…do I want to know what did that? Or who?' At the latter question, Christine shook her head, trying to snap out of her thoughts. It was just the boiler room…no one's here other than me…

Christine went back to assessing the room, her eyes by now having adjusted to the crimson tint of light that seemed to be the only source of light and color flooding the room. The loose dirty white tiles overhead seemed to teeter, seemingly doomed to fall at any moment. She wondered whether they had any asbestos before laughing at herself. Here she was in the middle of a freaking boiler room in the wee hours of morning, naked, and she's worried about that?

A boiler an arm's length away decided to spit out some steam at that very instant and Christine jumped with a screech, feeling her skin crawl at the scare. 'It's just machines, don't be scared you nitwit. Stop jumping at every little sound!' Somehow, the little voice in her head wasn't too comforting. Her auburn hair was standing up at the nape, so she decided to run her deathly cold fingers through her wet locks.

Christine didn't know why on earth she was so cold when the atmosphere around her was practically peak summer time temperature. 'Other than the fact that you're naked, wet, and frightened out of your mind?' Christine grimaced. The not-so-stupid sarcastic voice in her head wasn't helping matters much.

Screeeeeeech. There it was again! That piercing sound! It was closer this time, too. At hearing the noise occur once more, even the goose bumps that were found on her pale flesh seemed to be getting goose bumps. The blush that graced Christine's features up until now disappeared without a trace, leaving her even paler than usual. She had an ugly feeling that whatever, or whoever was making that noise wasn't just the usual racquet coming from the aged, peeling boilers strewn about the room.

"Nice view," growled a male raspy voice from beneath Christine. Prying her legs open to look underneath herself, Christine's eyes found the source of the comment. How could she not realize that she was kneeling on a gritty catwalk where anyone who was underneath could see her womanhood in its full glory? Not to mention she just gave them a better view right then and there.

Blushing from head to toe, Christine hurriedly got up and crossed her legs before letting her eyes return to the figure whose comment was met with not too much disapproval. 'Most women like hearing positive comments concerning their body,' she rationed with her mind. It had nothing to do with the way his voice sent a pleasant tingling sensation down her spine. None whatsoever.

Christine's eyes widened when she took in the details of the man (was it even a man?) underneath her. Blinking her eyes intentionally a few times, she was sure that her mind wasn't playing tricks – a severely burned figure in a brown dusty fedora was looking up at her with a lecherous grin. Squinting her eyes, Christine could make out the Christmas colors of his ratty looking sweater and if she wasn't mistaken, one of his hands had a glove with claws. That didn't bode too well for her.

All of the sudden, the man materialized beside her. Out of pure instinct, Christine pushed him away from her with a scream, causing him to stumble back a few paces.

"Now, now..that's no way to treat someone you don't know. Not that I didn't mind the flashing, of course." The odd man's eyes glinted as his tongue snaked out, waggling at Christine. Somehow she found it within herself to blush an even deeper red as her hands returned to cover her bosom. With all of her strength, Christine wished at least a simple t-shirt would cover her body. Not being terribly comfortable with her body and having this strange man dressed in long black trousers and a sweater compared to her nakedness were most definitely the factors.

All of the sudden, her wish was granted and a plain white v-neck shirt covered her trembling body, mercifully covering her pasty white skin up to the middle of her thighs. Genuine surprise fleeted across the faces of the two occupants of the stifling boiler room. The charred man narrowed his eyes at her before moving to close the distance between them.

"How did you do that?"

"I don't know…I swear!" Christine's innocent sepia eyes were quite easy to read and the man appeared to be somewhat mollified at her hasty response. It didn't seem to stop him from advancing however, and Christine started to back away slowly.

"What brings you here, little piggy?" The man's azure eyes glinted devilishly as he teasingly clanked his knifes together.

"Piggy?" Christine narrowed her eyes at the eccentric and mysterious man. How dare he call her such a name? The adrenaline coursing through her veins at the moment caused her to draw enough courage to stop retreating and stand her ground, settling her hands on her hips.

Seeing her stop trying to run away didn't stop the man from continuing to close in on her, however. "Yes, pretty little piggy." In one swift fluid motion, the cool blade of his index finger materialized before Christine's lips, pressing on them lightly, yet enough to draw a bead of blood before trailing a soft line down her cheek. His cerulean eyes were markedly drawn to the speck of plasma and before she could protest, he took his left un-gloved hand, forcibly grabbing her curly, over-the-shoulder length hair and crushed her lips to his own thin ones.

Before Christine had time to process what was going on, the charred man was sucking away at her lips. Her eyes shot all the way open as she tried to push him off of her, but it was to no avail. Her lungs ached for a breath and her mouth opened in pursuit of the needed oxygen. This was a mistake, as the man started ravaging her mouth with his tongue, leaving her with the taste of foul incinerated flesh and her own blood. Seeing no alternative, Christine kicked the man in his groin with her knee.

His eyes flashed dangerously at Christine. "What the fuck was that for, bitch?" He brought the glinting talons over his head, slashing at the girl's t-shirt and chest, satisfied when a flood of blood gushed out from the four knife marks left on her alabaster skin.

Whatever emotions and responses his lustful and aggressive kiss stirred up in her body were quickly squashed by that point. Christine whimpered as she pitifully groped at the newly acquired marks on her flesh. That would certainly leave a permanent mark.

"Who…who are you?" Christine whispered, tears threatening to form in her eyes as she looked into the eyes of her assailant.

"I'm Freddy Krueger, bitch."