Christine looked around at the foreign landscape. "Where am I?" she said to herself as she walked down the path in a heavily fogged forest. The forest she was in was silent. No animals. No crickets chirping. No birds flying overhead. Totally.....dead.

The sky had a gray tone to it as the wind howled. Christine didn't know where she was, but she had a strange feeling that she knew this place and she knew where she was going. But, where exactly, she had no clue.

Nervously, Christine continued walking down the path. The path was only dirt and trees surrounded it to the point seeing past them was impossible. After what seemed like an eternity of walking, Christine came to a clearing. She saw nothing unusual.

"Christine…" said a low voice with unknown origins.

"Who's there?" Christine called out. Silence. "Who's there?"

But the voice didn't answer back. Christine felt fear rise up in her stomach. Something didn't seem right about this.

"Christine!" the voice, filled with rage, screamed from behind.

Christine jumped and turned around. When she did, her jaw dropped and she gasped. Standing before her was a familiar eighteen year old boy. Scars covered his pale blue skin on his body.

"B-b-but you're…" Christine said losing her breath.

Rage filled the boy's eyes as Christine felt the hate radiating from him. But, he couldn't be there. That was impossible. It just couldn't be.

Without warning, the boy grabbed Christine's throat and held it tightly.

"I'll kill you!" he screamed as he held her neck tighter. Just as Christine thought he was about to choke her to death, she screamed.

"AHHHHHHH!" Christine woke and sat up screaming in her bed. Christine was sweating bucket loads and breathing hard. As she was trying to calm down, Christine's parents rushed in.

"What the hell is wrong?!?!" Christine's parents cried.

"N-nothing," Christine managed to say. "Just had a terrible nightmare and woke up screaming."

"Oh, well, don't scare us like that again, Christine," her dad said.

"Sorry." After her parents left, Christine picked up her phone and called a friend of hers. The phone rang and rang. After ten rings, it was answered. "Darryl, is that you?"

"Christine?" Darryl said. "What is it? It's two in the morning!"

"I..I had a nightmare."

"You called to tell me that?"

"No, it wasn't just any nightmare," Christine said. She lowered her voice to a whisper. "It was about...him."

"Him him?" Darryl asked. "Christine, let the man rest in peace for God's sake. He's dead. He can't hurt you, unless he happens to know Freddy Krueger. Christy, besides, it was an accident. We didn't mean to kill him. It was just a joke and an accident."

"Joke?" Christine yelled. "Darryl, you...we killed the poor boy. Darryl, I can't stand it. It's tearing me up on the inside. I feel like I'm going crazy."

About three months before, the boy in her dreams, Davis, had just moved to their town. He was the new kid, and everybody tends to like to pick on new kids, be it a lot, slightly, a lot, or hardly ever. Christine hadn't had any problems with the new guy. Darryl, for whatever his reasons had been, couldn't stand him.

One weekend night, Darryl had wanted to try and scare him. He talked Christine into asking him and taking him to a secluded area in a forest where he would try to scare him. Well, that night, they made it. They were talking, and a masked Darryl "attacked" with a butcher knife. To scare him, Darryl grabbed Davis and cut him a bit. Not hard enough for any serious cuts, but, enough to bleed nonetheless.

Christine told Darryl he was going too far, but Darryl didn't listen. Instead, he placed the knife at Davis' throat to scare him some. Without warning, a large tree limb fell to the ground with a loud bang. Darryl jerked at the sound and the knife went across Davis' throat.

"Christine, go back to bed," Darryl muttered and hung up the phone.

Christine sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Get a grip, Christy. Like Darryl said, he's dead and can't come back." Christine lied back down and closed her eyes.

Suddenly, Christine's warm room felt cold. Christine pulled the covers up farther over her body as she shivered.

"You can't get away from me that easily," said the familiar voice from her dream. Except this time she wasn't dreaming.

Christine's eye shot open and she sat upright. She turned on the lamp on the desk next to her bed and looked around her room. Nothing out of the normal was to be seen.

"I'm over here..." the voice said from a corner. "You still remember me, don't you Christine?" She didn't see anything at first. Suddenly, a form took shape. The shape took the form of a young man covered in scars.

Christine's asthma kicked in at the sight of the boy she had helped accidentally kill. "It's nice to see you too," Davis said. "It's time for you to pay for what you did."

"Why...are you...doing...this?" she asked as she tried to use her inhaler.

Davis didn't reply. He simply moved in silence.

"Stay back!" Christine yelled. Davis still walked towards her. "Oh God please stay away from me."

Christine was paralyzed from fear. Without warning, Davis possessed her. Christine's eyes went cold as she stood and walked into the kitchen. Christine opened a drawer filled with knives and pulled out the sharpest knife in the drawer. Christine bled to death from the knife wounds seconds later. Davis left her body and looked at Christine's dead body. Smiling, he silently faded away.

The following morning, Darryl's parents found their son hanging from a tree in their backyard with a bed sheet wrapped around his neck.

Davis' spirit was never seen again.